In the darkness of Gotham's alleyways, the Joker fell to his knees. Adjacent buildings burned hot with fire and the heat and stress and blood loss collapsed the villain against the pavement. With a groan of exhaustion, his green eyes fell shut as his body gave in to the heat and dehydration. Still sweating, he lay unconscious on the ground.
When the batmobile pulled up beside his limp and aching body, the villain didn't even wake up. Even when the Batman pulled him into the car, he stayed unconscious.
"Alfred," Bruce announced into the open air of the car. "I need Lucius there in three minutes. I have an individual with severe facia lacerations who is bleeding profusely."
"Sir," Alfred began, "Why not bring him to Gotham General? I'm sure they would be better suited to -"
"That's enough, Alfred. Please call Lucius immediately." Neither had time to say goodbye before the Dark Knight disconnected the call.
Later that night, the bat slept fitfully in the seat beside his own bed where the villain lay resting. Bruce woke up to the screams of the villain, coming from the bathroom close by.
The bat leapt to his feet and rushed into the bathroom, searching for the source of the disturbing sound. "What? What is it?"
"MY FACE!" the villain screamed, once again falling to his knees.
"Joker, it's not that bad. There are surgeries..."
"Look at me. LOOK AT ME!" the Joker screamed, slamming his fists down and cracking the delicate floor tiles. Bruce knelt beside him, a shaky and nervous hand resting softly on his back.
"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter to me. It's just your face. It's your heart I care about."
But still, he looked. Blood dripped down over his face, but the scars were so deep that Bruce could see them through the mess. Instead of his signature two scars cutting open his smile, his face appeared as though it had lost a fight with a lawn mower. The scars were so deep that, even with the stitches, blood was still oozing from almost all of the wounds.
"Who did this to me?" Jack sobbed, grabbing hold of the Batman's shirt. "Tell me."
"We don't know yet, Jack. But we're going to find them. But it's someone who's definitely jealous of your cockiness as a villain."
"How can you keep looking at me? How can you look at me like this?"
"Don't cry... Joker..." Bruce pleaded, finally swallowing his masculine pride enough to wrap his arms around the man's torso. "I l-l-love you. I love you J-Jack. And I don't care how you look. I don't care what you do right or wrong or what you don't do. I don't care how you act. I don't care who you are. All I care about is the way I feel when I'm with you..."
"I can't look like this... I'd rather die..."
The Batman touched the villain's neck and left his hands there until blood dripped over his fingertips. "I will always love you and be here to take care of you, no matter what. Nothing will stop me from loving you. You will never have to worry about that. But don't worry. When I find the guy who did this to you... I will kill them."
"You can't kill," the Joker stuttered, unable to respond to the rest of the hero's speech.
"For you, I'd do anything."