(A/N: I wrote this awhile back, when I was first starting to read Batman/Joker fics. I'm sorry if it isn't stellar, but like I said, it's a touch old. I don't own Batman and I don't make money from this. On with the story.)

New Men

The streets of Gotham, they stank, and it wasn't just the kind of stink that made your nose wrinkle, no this was the head-spinning, eye-watering you can taste the air stench. The sky was a perpetual haze of smog, trapped and suffocating gasses swirling like a miasma above the city, illuminated and refracting sickly orange and yellow lights. Gotham was a rotting city of death and despair, so close to collapsing under its own deterioration that some days you dreaded touching it, the brittle wreckage set to crash upon you in the blink of an eye. The city was a poison, a disease, a cancer and once you entered its sphere the same misery was drawn to you like a magnet, pulling you down to be covered by the sickness until you were part of the desolate landscape, another broken citizen.

Some days, in his weaker moments, when the despair of the city held his heart in its decaying hand, Batman would have his doubts, if he could keep fighting for something that genuinely needed to be put out of its misery. He wondered if he could get away with it, put the cowl and cape up for a few months and just be Bruce Wayne, just to be human for awhile. However, that meant giving all of Gotham over to the Joker, the Anarchist Clown with the taste for destruction that matched his own desire for peace, and he couldn't let that happen, he simply wouldn't be a hero if he did. Still, he wondered, if Batman went away, would the Joker; self professed completion to the personality of the vigilante similarly vanish from the public eye? On nights when the city bit him the hardest, he told himself he could do that, leave it to fester alone, but within a few nights he returned to help it along, like a patient parent holding the hand of a struggling toddler.

"Prowling again Batsy?" he didn't even flinch at the Joker's presence, it was normal, routine almost to place him back in Arkham at least once a week, where he'd sulk for a day or two. Never did the Joker give the impression that he was doing anything other than humoring Batman or gracing the Asylum with his presence, he simply knew too well how to get out. The Dark Knight remained motionless as his pale and ghostly glimmering nemesis basked in the rare moonlight, it was the same thing he had been doing himself just a few moments before. Rarely was the festering scrap heap of buildings, trash and flesh beautiful to Bruce anymore, he'd seen so much ugliness that he wasn't sure the taint of its observance would ever leave his eyes.

"Did you kill anyone to get up here?" Batman questioned after a long quite moment, his eyes still sweeping the ground for signs of anything unusual, not that he wanted to do anything about it. The Joker was his enemy, but he was also the only one that ever stopped to talk, it may have just been him mocking the hero but it was helpful to know what the other villains were planning. The Joker dearly loved shooting down the logic of his fellows, and Batman would never tell the clown that he was the reason he got the drop on so many of the crimes in the city. The Clown was hands down his best informant, and though they frequently insulted one another and fought against one another, there was a mutual respect. It was just enough to ensure that if the Joker wanted to talk Batman wouldn't hit him and if the Batman needed information the Joker would try to kill him. Batman had adopted a policy of not taking the Joker to Arkham until the Clown had actually done something wrong.

"You wound me Batsy. I know better than to do that. So no, I didn't. They are asleep, I even locked the door behind me and reset the security system," the clown giggled childishly and leaned against Batman's legs, allowing his own to kick aimlessly over the ledge. For once the Caped Crusader did not shove the slender man away, there was something terrible in the way that he held himself that night, it bespoke injury, likely more severe than he'd ever admit. No, Batman would not risk breaking his rule because he decided to strike a man that couldn't possibly absorb a blow, besides; he seemed to be there to talk. Unconsciously he rested a gloved hand in the mop of green hair, when he felt the Joker snuggle into the touch, it didn't seem to be a spinal cord injury and that was cause enough for Batman to relax slightly.

"Joker…"

"None of that Batsy. Just relax that self-righteous disgust you feel, I'm going to be okay," the Joker took Batman's unoffered hand and pulled himself up so that he was facing the Dark Knight. Tension and a driving anger boiled inside of Bruce's heart, the Joker's face had been cut wide open, it was bleeding freely, and finally the Caped Crusader noticed that the Clown's breaths were short and careful. He judged them to be caused by broken ribs, and he hoped dearly that nothing would cause his lungs to collapse.

"Who did this to you?" Batman growled and found himself with a new Joker shaped necklace as the smaller flung his arms around his shoulders, it was a strange embrace. Batman gingerly put his arms around the Joker's slender waist, hoping not to hurt his ribs and to keep him from toppling them both off the side of the building. The Clown seemed to melt against him, accepting Batman's arms around him and placing his head on the Dark Knight's shoulder, doing his best to relax.

"Do you really want to know?" the Joker whispered his breaths hitched and halting, it was a struggle to stay awake when Batman was so comfortable. He was glad that his Batsy had held him up, he wasn't sure if he would have been able to keep clinging without those arms.

"Tell me. We both know that I'm the only one allowed to beat you up. So who…"

"The guys at Arkham. They like to drug us, and they think it's funny to beat on me, I guess they are tired of me coming and going," the Clown Prince said and gave a soft, very human moan of pleasure as his enemy cradled the bleeding side of his head with one hand. Batman's entire body was tense, he was burning with a desire to harm the people responsible for the Joker's current state of being, and another, stranger desire that he'd never had before. With the man's vulnerable body so close, arms wrapped around one another, and that damnably soft noise that spilled so beautifully from the Joker's lips, Batman found himself tempted in a very new way.

"They are supposed to be helping you," Bruce said gently, his voice, not Batman's and confused by everything that was going on he decided to go with what he desired the most, he softly kissed the Joker on the mouth. The Joker's arms instantly tightened around him and the kiss grew deeper, he hadn't expected it to happen but Bruce wanted it to continue.

"Oh, Batsy, you are going to have to do that again," the Joker moaned in a breathy little voice, sounding very much like a cliché woman in the movies that had just been swept off her feet. Again their lips met, the kiss revealing more passion than either of them ever expected to show for one another in anyway other than brutality.

"Let me take care of you," Bruce breathed slowly, his hand absently stroking the pale skin and ruby lips of his enemy, he had been careful of the Joker's no longer bleeding wound as he threaded his fingers through green hair. It was vastly different from their old relationship, and Batman's tender touches were more loving than the Joker had ever known, he wasn't sure he ever wanted that to change again.

"I can't say no to you, not when I have your undivided attention," Joker said gently, leaning in for another kiss, his hands pawed softly at Batman's chest when the Dark Knight took over the full support of his body. It called to attention (at least in Batman's mind) the tenderness that his adversary was capable of expressing. When Batman scooped the slender man into a comfortable one-armed holding position and used his grappling hook to take them off of the roof he felt the clown go slack. It pained him to know that the man had fainted, likely from pain, and he cuddled his enemy close for a moment, kissing the paper white skin of his cheek before placing him in the passenger seat of the Batmobile.

As he drove home he contemplated how he was going to explain bringing the clown with him. Or, for that matter, the fact that he wasn't bringing him home to hold for trial or to arrest him. Would Alfred understand, if the relationship he had with the Joker had permanently changed? Would Tim or Dick be able to understand it? He felt as though that he didn't honestly care what they had to say. It had broken his heart and made him furious to see the abuse that his long time enemy had endured.

"Back early Bruce?"

"Yeah, is Tim home? The city actually looks pleasant tonight, a little morbid but at least the sky is clear. I know how he likes to see it at its best," Bruce said softly and pulled he heaped and broken form of the Joker from the Batmobile.

"Bruce…uh…no…err…yes Tim is home. What the hell did you do to him?" Dick asked calmly as he hastily replaced the mask on his face. He wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but he knew that the Joker was dangerous and he didn't want to risk the homicidal clown knowing his identity. It was utterly strange to see Bruce handle the beaten man so gently, almost as if he cared.

"He found me tonight. I didn't hit him because he just wanted to give me an update, and it appeared to me that he had suffered some trauma. I asked him about it and he told me that they had beaten him in Arkham. I…if I had hit him tonight I would have collapsed his lung, I'm almost certain of it," Bruce laid the Joker on one of the hospital beds typically used by one of the members of their family. The clown moaned weakly at such a shift in his body and his eyes fluttered open.

"Bats, you brought me home with you? A few shattered ribs and you are worried?" a small smile formed on the clown's lips but it broke open the cuts that lined so much of his jaw and cheeks. It was a wonder that Batman wore none of that blood on himself; he had been kissing the smaller man quite passionately after all.

"No laughing Joker," Bruce breathed, still wearing the Batsuit he felt odd to be so affectionate to anyone, and he ran his fingers delicately through the mop of green hair. The clown gave a simple nod and leaned into Batman's touch, he liked the idea of comfort very much.

"Pain killers still work on you?" Nightwing questioned as he consulted the bottle of pills in his hand for typical dosing information. He was not going to question Bruce; it was his job to be a crime fighter, not to worry after his mentor's preoccupations or who he had them with. Besides, there was no crime in helping someone in pain when you've taken the time to get licensed as a medical tech.

"Yeah, lucky me, they don't believe in giving them to me at Arkham," the Joker breathed softly, his attempt at sarcasm overshadowed by his obvious struggle with breathing. He gave Batman's hand a gentle squeeze as his favorite vigilante helped him to sit up without too much shifting of his abused ribs. He was swallowing the pills with a glass of water when Tim and Alfred made their way down to the Batcave, seeing this; Nightwing carefully drew the curtain and went to speak with the pair.

"Sorry, I'm sure you aren't going to want the hostility."

"Darling you couldn't understand, but I'm okay. You are here, with me," the Joker said and leaned against Batman's chest. The Dark Knight cradled his enemy close and kissed the top of his head, it was oddly comforting but he had no real clue if a relationship with the Joker even had a chance of working. Bruce had had many lovers over the years, and some of them had known about Batman, but the Joker was a man, and he was Batman's greatest rival. That was something people likely wouldn't accept about billionaire Bruce Wayne.

"And I will be here with you, as long as this is real. I'm too old for cruel jokes," Bruce breathed softly and allowed the Joker to kiss his neck in a gentle fashion, much like a cat might rub against its master.

"You kissed me first love," the Joker moaned half of his sentence as strong fingers worked the knots in his shoulders. Batman felt the smaller man shudder as their lips met, it was a delicious icy chill that the clown hat to him that always seemed to beg Bruce's lips to linger.

"So I did. Just know then that I'm not stringing you along," the older man whispered and gently pressed the Joker back to relax in his pain killer induced haze, it was what was best for him after all.

"Night Batsy."

"Night Joker," Batman pressed a kiss to the clown's forehead, he walked out as his medicated enemy slash lover fell asleep.

"He almost out?" Nightwing asked cautiously, Tim and Alfred seemed more than a little confused.

"Yeah. He's got to stay here for a bit…"

"How bad did they…."

"Bad. If he had picked a fight tonight he would have died," Bruce pulled the cowl off and ran his hands through his hair. They could see his pain, and sooner or later he'd tell them.

"Master Bruce, I hope that you don't mind my asking but how do you plan to keep him here long enough to heal?"

"Easy, he loves best being here Batman is and having his attention. I stay in for a few nights and Gotham will be safer for it."

"He's actually hurt right? He isn't pretending?" Tim's voice was meek, and Bruce had to smile, things were at least going better than he had planned.

"It hurts him to breathe or talk. I lifted him up to carry him and his chest actually crushes inward. And those wounds are real, that's his blood," Bruce said as he pulled his gloves off, trying to get comfortable while everyone Tim and Dick were suiting up to go out.

"He wants to kill you Bruce," Nightwing finally said what the others were thinking. Placing his hands over his face Bruce looked for the words to say.

"Right now he isn't concerned with killing me or exploiting me, he is just hurt."

Tim and Dick shrugged and accepted it for what it was. They had a city to protect and left with little remark, just firmly set confused looks on their faces. Alfred remained still and silent, eyes fixed on a man he had known for so long that he at once recognized the sidestep of the truth. He approached Bruce and studied him closely.

"Be sure that whatever you are doing…just be sure that it is what you want, okay?" Alfred said and saw Bruce slump into relaxation.

"I…may be going crazy. But yeah, he's what I want," Bruce admitted and if it fazed Alfred it didn't show.

"He's been your enemy for a very long time. Tread carefully. For now though, he probably needs you," Alfred said gently, no judgment in his voice and Bruce nodded, accepting it.

"Thanks Alfred, I'm not sure that Tim and Dick will be so understanding," Bruce said with a disenchanted sigh.

"They have their own love to worry about. Go take care of yours. Good night Master Bruce," Alfred said and a smile came to Bruce's lips. He changed quickly into sweats and a tank top but replaced the cowl on his head; he didn't feel that Alfred needed to know that he was willing to risk his identity just yet. Seeing that the Joker was still asleep and shivering he placed himself in the small bed, putting his arms around the small man to try to chase the chill from his flesh. While it probably had more to do with the pain than anything Bruce was happy when the Joker snuggled closer without really waking up. Before long Bruce was lulled into an easy slumber.

It was the middle of the night when Bruce woke up (yes 4 A.M. counted as middle of the night). Joker seemed to be having a nightmare, his hands pawing frantically at Bruce's chest.

"Wake up Joker," Bruce whispered and kissed his companion's trembling lips, it was strange but he didn't know that his former adversary had nightmares. The slender man responded subconsciously at first and fisted his hands into the older man's shirt once he woke up. The kiss grew more passionate when the Clown Prince shifted slightly to prop himself on Bruce's chest and the billionaire gasped, giving his smaller companion the chance to work his tongue into the kiss. The heat of the Joker's mouth was certainly not betrayed by the coolness of his lips, and for all his yellowed teeth, the clown tasted like clean mint and the astringent of mouthwash. Bruce cupped the angled jaw as his lover moved closer.

"You saved me from my nightmares," Joker whimpered and with a soft moan closed his eyes. Bruce was lavishing attention on his pale throat and their fingers twined together.

"As long as you are by my side I'm going to save you," Bruce allowed his lips to brush Joker's earlobe. "But I thought nothing frightened you…"

"I have developed a few phobias in the last few years," the Joker countered softly with a morbid little laugh. Bruce stopped that little giggle with a firm kiss, not bothered at all when the clown's slender fingers tugged the cowl free. No shock or surprise crossed the Joker's face when he stared at Bruce Wayne, the love stayed the same. "But beautiful men in their pajamas will never be on that list," Joker whispered calmly and kissed Bruce on the lips, dropping the cowl to the floor.

"You going to be okay? Being mine, being Batman's?" Bruce held his too thin lover close, wanting very much to never let go. Joker sighed and rolled himself possessively on top of Bruce, their frames nearly completely meshed.

"All I've ever wanted is your attention, your love counts as the ultimate attention. Darling, I have ways of looking normal, I can retire for you as long as you will be here for me," the Joker had never sounded more serious, and though a part of him begged to differ Bruce believed him. He wanted his messed up relationship to last as long as possible.

(Longest oneshot I have ever written. Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are appreciated and I know it was old and probably not my best writing but thanks for sticking with me.)