Crumpled Paper
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. Unfortunately.
"Talk."
emphasis
Summery: In some ways, Bruce really is like paper.
The Joker hadn't meant to, really he hadn't. It was all an accident. How was he supposed to know that Bruce Wayne was his Batsy? Or that by shooting that butler -what was his name? Albert - Adam - Andy - Anthony - whatever- would turn his fierce Batsy into that whimpering, babbling, pathetic fool of a man? He couldn't have!
But he still shot that old butler and therefore broke Batman. So Bats was now his responsibility. Whatever the dark-haired man did after this, was Joker's responsibility. He could blame no one but himself. He stopped his pacing and looked around the dark room when he finally noticed that everything was quiet. He began to panic as he thought of where his Batsy was and what his Batsy could be doing began to fill his crazed mind.
He could be hanging himself somewhere, or slitting his wrists, or drowning in a tub, or even facing down a car that couldn't stop (he refused to think that maybe it just wouldn't). He gasped as worse thoughts assaulted him. Batsy could be out there, somewhere, lost; he could be trapped in an alleyway with some old drunken, being raped; he could be killing someone; he could be being killed; he could have wandered off and be sitting in a cell; one of his many enemies could have found him and-
his thoughts were suddenly cut off as he tripped over something.
He landed with an "Oof!". He turned on his hands and knees, ready to destroy anything that dared get between him and finding his Batsy. He gasped loudly (and somewhat over-dramatically) when he saw that he had tripped over Bruce, who was lying on his stomach and staring blankly straight ahead. Joker flinched when he saw those empty blue orbs, starring in pity at the broken man on the floor.
"Batsy!" he called loudly, rising to his knees and spreading his arms wide. His insane grin fell when he got no response. He sucked in a deep breath and tried again, "Brucey-baby!" He slumped down when Bruce didn't even blink. "What will I ever do with you, Bats?" He sighed out loud to himself. If Brucey continued to act like this, Joker would have to rebuild him.
He grinned at the realization that he could rebuild Batman, to suit his own image. He giggled at the possibility of Batsy fighting him and only him. He quickly stands, picking up Bruce along the way. He waited for the darker-haired man to react but Bruce's head only lolled about on his shoulders.
"Don't worry, Bats, I'll fix you right up! You'll be better than ever!" Joker laughed, dragging the broken man with him to begin his new 'training'.
And that's it. Story's over. Hope you enjoyed it. It took me months to finish this. I started the first sentence but stopped and finally came back to it. And for those who wonder about Alfred- you can decide if he's really dead or not. Most likely wont be a sequel. Please enjoy, although its short. I DO have ch. 5 for TCH so I promise to post it soon.