A/N: I kept on watching and rewatching the Dark Knight and read parts of the script (type the dark knight script on google and click the first result, that's what I did anyways... ) just to get the gist of what I'm writing in addition to reading many fanfics by my fellow authors of TDK BatmanxJoker fanfiction. I don't write that often but when I do, it's been known to blow people's minds. No joking... I don't really know how long this story will become, but I'm not going to drag it out over a period of 50 chapters (cause that's just too laborious!) that's for sure! If I had to guess, I'd say maybe 25-30 chapters, maybe not even 25, but I do want to do at least 20. I'll try to get as many chapters up as I can before school begins, at least three but no promises. This story will be rated T for the first few chapters but will change to M after a few chapters, not sure which one... I named this story "Metamorphose" not only because it was a fitting title for Bruce's cathartic change and Joker's (er, kinda?) transformation, but also because it is the name of a song from an anime called Monochrome Factor that reminds me so much of BatmanxJoker. My BFF since childhood (WritingInTheDarkness) told me about this song first and made me listen to it and she was right, it is good. So shoutouts and credit goes to WritingInTheDarkness for inspiring me to get up off my lazy ass and write, love ya Writing! Listen to Metamorphose, you'll love it, I think... Whatever, just listen to it!

Anyways, on with the show! Or story, whatever.

Sorry if it sounds a little random/angsty at first, it should make more "sense (whatever that is)" as the story goes on. I'm actually kinda writing it as I go because—as Joker says, "Do I really look [sound/read] like a guy [girl, in this case…] with a plan?"

Note: I wanted to leave the dialogue between Bruce and Alfred out of the story but I decided against it because it is a crucial scene and will be integral to the beginning of the fic and the fic altogether.

Summary: TDK up to and a little after the point of Bruce's reflection on Rachel's death. Everything is the same as it was in the scene—except, instead of telling Alfred that Rachel would have come back to him, he keeps it to himself to ponder the extent of his feelings towards his former childhood friend and love interest. Eventually, he reads the note she wrote him and discovers the true extent of her feeling towards him. Enter a Batman obsessed harlequin and you have yourself a recipe for disaster, or in this case, just what Batman needs. Batman/Bruce WaynexJoker.

BTW, in case you didn't realize this in the beginning or subsequent summary, yes, Batman/Bruce Wayne and Joker will be romantically involved in this story, and yes that includes yummy mentions of man on man action. In other words, there will be SLASH, if you don't like it, then don't read it, but don't go flaming/reporting my ass just because your fragile constitution can't deal with the fact that people actually like and write about this stuff; I'll hunt you down and make you pay if you do…

Jk! But seriously, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the damnable disclaimer! Wouldn't want my poor ass (and yes, I am poor because I'm in university and therefore most of my money gets siphoned off by my tuition, books, living, transportation and miscellaneous expenses, alas, the life of a student is tough, but I shall endure!) to be sued on account of my being too careless to put a disclaimer in!

Disclaimer *Legal Stuff!*: I do not own Warner Bros. Entertainment, Time Warner, DC Comics, Batman syndicate, The Dark Knight, Batman/Bruce Wayne, Joker, or any other characters mentioned in this story that are the intellectual property of Warner Bros. Entertainment, DC Comics, Time Warner, Batman syndicate, and The Dark Knight.

BTW, many thanks to Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan for writing the script, I used some dialogue from the script in this story which will be asterisked when they appear.

'Italics' = thoughts

'Bold' = yelling/screaming

'Bold Italic' = yelling/screaming in thoughts

*Smiles!* Enjoy!

Batman, Bruce Wayne or maybe a combination of the two since he wasn't wearing the cowl—stared off into the distance dejectedly, trying to make sense of everything that happened so far.

'Rachel…' The idea that she was gone forever was still sinking into his brain like blood on a pristine white shredded shirt; he knows that eventually it will seep into his mind and subconscious and knows that, like the shredded shirt, he will be ruined beyond repair. Only then will the tears, anger, and self-loathing come in droves but for now he feels numb, almost as if he's in a nightmare and any second he'll wake up and berate himself for being so stupid to believe that it was real.

Almost: he still wouldn't believe any of it if he did not rescue Harvey and did not witness first hand the horrendous injuries he sustained to the whole left side of his face which would never heal, not fully at least.

He stayed in this state for a good three or four hours or maybe even more: he couldn't really tell. Time didn't matter much to him now that his love was gone, her boyfriend was in hospital and he was partly responsible for it. Indirectly or not, he knew this was his fault and it hurt so much to know that. Guilt and doubts quickly came to the surface of his mind. If only… he were faster, he broke his rule, he took off his mask—then maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to save her; still see her smile, her knowing eyes, and her beautiful face again.

Alfred walked in carrying a tray with breakfast for Bruce, carefully avoiding the cowl and gauntlets; he didn't know why he brought it to begin with, it wasn't as if Bruce would touch a thing on it, depressed and lank as he was at the moment. With a half smile that never quite made it to his eyes, Alfred set the tray down on the coffee table beside Bruce, Rachel's envelope propped up against the silver tea pot.

Alfred clears his throat a little and says in a consolatory tone 'I prepared a little breakfast.'*

He was greeted by silence.

'Very well.'* Alfred turns to leave but Bruce's voice stops him.

'Alfred?'* Bruce almost whispered in a tone Alfred last heard when Bruce was much younger and he was coping with the sudden loss of his parents.

Bruce looked at Alfred with desperation apparent in his eyes as if asking his butler—although he was more like a father to him ever since his parents died—if what he did was what he should have done.

Should I have become the Batman? What good has it done anyone but me?

'Did I bring this on us? On her? I thought I would inspire good, not madness—'*

Alfred took a breath. 'You have inspired good. But you spat in the face of Gotham's criminals—didn't you think there might be casualties? Things were always going to have to get worse before they got better'*

Bruce's face tensed at those words, he knew what Alfred was saying was true, but almost could not believe they were coming out of his mouth. His mind screamed.

'RACHEL WAS NOT JUST "A CASUALITY!" She was my friend, my love!

Ah, but she was never really your love… she never really loved you.' A voice somewhere from the depths of his mind whispered menacingly. He pushed this thought to the back of his mind and buried it under what he should be thinking and feeling: raw anger, grief, guilt, and an urge to break his one rule and kill the Joker for injuring and killing his friends and terrorizing the citizens of Gotham City.

Instead of screaming all of this at Alfred, he decided to gloomily say 'But Rachel, Alfred…'*

'Rachel believed in what you stood for. What we stand for.'* Alfred sighed, looked at Bruce and picked up the cowl.

'Gotham needs you.'*

Bruce let out despondent laugh.

'Gotham needs its hero. And I let the Joker blow him half to hell—'*

'Which is why for now, they'll have to make do with you.'* Alfred interjected.

Alfred and Bruce stared at each other. Alfred knew from Bruce's glazed over eyes and the pain and sorrow in them that Bruce was done talking. Alfred put the cowl on Bruce's lap and turned to leave the room. Bruce wanted to be alone but he also wanted to know if the bandit that was similar to Joker in so many ways was captured and, 'preferentially killed', made to pay for his crimes. He would not apologize in his mind for wanting the Joker dead—even if he knew he could never kill him.

Curiously, Bruce asked 'That bandit, in the forest in Burma… Did you catch him?'*

Alfred nodded and Bruce inwardly raised a fist in triumph; surely Alfred would never kill and if Alfred captured such a criminal without killing him, then so could he.

There was hope yet!

Slightly revived in his efforts against Joker, he pressed on.

'How?'*

Alfred looked uncomfortable when he replied but had no choice but to answer honestly.

'We burned the forest down.'*

Bruce looked devastated.

Alfred abruptly looked away from Bruce and scurried from the room altogether immediately after dropping the bomb on Bruce's lap and breaking psyche. He never looked back at his master and surrogate son—it would be too much for him to bear.

At that one little phrase, Bruce's world built upon that one little rule of his came to a screeching halt and began to fall apart.

Maybe there was no hope after all.

It was at that moment that Bruce's emotions finally caught up to him. Grasping the cowl tightly, he stood up and let out a deafening heart wrenching cry from deep within his chest, collapsed on his hands and shins and began to sob in earnest on the cold, hard and unforgiving marble floor.

Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter, I promise it will heat up later, but for now I'm building it up. Please review and convince others to read this story, your reviews make my day! I don't mind flames so long as they are constructive and not debilitating. Thanks for reading, please read on!

Jia Chan!