AN: There are some pretty major spoilers in here, so if you don't want to know, I suggest coming back to this after you've seen the movie… You've been warned!
Unfinished Business
Just as we have two eyes and two feet, duality is a part of life. - Carlos Santana
The lights flickered, as they often did, in the room he sat in. This was no hotel. Gotham City spared no afterthoughts on their criminal element and their comforts. But then again, he was a simple sort of criminal. Unlike his counterparts running through the city, he had no need for extravagance. Greed begot limitations. He was more than happy with his arrangement for the time being. A bed, a window, and three not-so-square meals a day. He was left alone, mainly out of fear, from staff and other guests alike. It didn't bother him.
The lights flickered again, and this time went out. Dark overtook the room and rather than scream uncontrollably, like the unfortunate person in the room next to him, the man known as the Joker just hummed a little tune to himself. He wasn't here by choice. But he certainly wasn't as captive as everyone seemed to think he was. Oh, he'd put up with the jeers from whomever they sent from the district attorney's office. And he'd handled the derision from the Arkham staff. It was nothing. They were nothing. What they didn't understand was that with all this time, he could watch. He could give the illusion of behaving after being beaten and he could observe. He would play their games for as long as he was interested.
He may not be the man with the plan, but he knew what he needed to do. With a grin he changed his humming to whistling as he let his hands relax behind his head. Isn't it rich? Aren't we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air. Send in the clowns... It only served to send his dear neighbor into louder fits. The walls weren't very thick here. Not as they should be in order to house all the crazies of the world. He laughed as the fits graduated to shrieks. Poor fool... Reminded him of his father before he'd been through with him...
When the lights flickered back on, the Joker raised his eyebrows at the black form standing in the corner. He didn't move from his relaxed, unconcerned position on the bed.
"Here we are again. I've been expecting you," he said with a clap of his hands. He stilled for a moment in his action as his eyes caught on an over-embellished, super hero-like gun being pointed at him. It only enhanced his glee. "Are you going to kill me? Here? While I'm locked away? That's not very sporting of you..."
"You killed Rachel, you killed Harvey Dent, you killed innocent citizens and cops... I'm not feeling very sporting." The Joker gave him a look that mocked being ashamed.
"It was nothing personal," then he paused with a grimace. "Wait... no, it was slightly personal. But it was never solely about you, as much as I hate to admit." He stood up and paced by his bed. The stark white of his issued shirt and pants made the make-up on his face and hands stick out grotesquely. It was nearly blinding in the pale yellow light of the asylum. He had asked nicely if they would leave his face painted… they, for all their disgust at having to deal with him at all, agreed. When he looked back to the Batman, he smirked.
"It would appear that you are about to break your one rule. Tsk, tsk…" he taunted with a twitch of his finger at him.
"It was what you wanted, right? To watch the protectors of Gotham fall? Well, here I am. And if I can get rid of you, then Gotham may have a chance yet."
"You can't kill me. Just like you couldn't kill me before. There's something to be said for a relationship as symbiotic as ours," he said with a wistful smile and a momentary far off look.
"You really are crazy to think there's a relationship. I am merely here to take care of some unfinished business." The Joker assessed the face under the cowl for a moment.
"Why is it you do what you do?" he asked. His face, despite being covered in make-up and sweat, conveyed an honest curiosity. The Batman only looked at him for a moment, gun still gripped tightly.
"Why is it you do what you do?" the caped man returned. The corner of the Joker's lip twitched.
"Touché, Mr. Batman. Touché," he said. Then he found a very interesting string on the hem of his shirt and tugged non-commitedly at it. "But that doesn't mean you get out of answering the question..." His eyes rose to look at his foe. The Batman continued staring, but apparently he found the question too irresistible.
"I do this to protect my city from whack jobs like you," he gritted out. The Joker smiled another half-smile as he bent forward, like he was sharing a secret.
"I do this to protect this city from whack jobs like you..." he returned, surprising the vigilante. The grip on the gun wavered and then tightened again.
"What is that supposed to mean?" At the question, the Joker let out a laugh. An outright, unreserved, insane laugh. As he righted himself somewhat, the Joker pointed to the Batman.
"Your silly little thing you call hope? Your so-called justice? There is no such thing. The world does not operate on those frilly notions. It never has. Civilized society puts on the airs of abiding by those doctrines, but when push comes to shove, it all comes down to one little thing... instinct. No matter how much you deny it, you've seen that. You are a part of that," then he purposely lowered his voice. "But I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." The Batman shook his head.
"You failed to bring down this city. They survived you. They outsmarted you." The Joker smiled placidly.
"I did not fail in anything. That is what you don't realize. Harvey Dent is dead. Not merely by my hand, they're all guilty... but their little white knight is gone. The city will mourn him and remember him, but for how long? How long will it be before they forget again? How long before the Falcones and the Maronis take over Gotham? It will be like they killed Dent themselves." Black smudged eyes roamed over the other man. "And it'll be a little hard to be a white knight when you wear all black."
"Not as hard as you might think," was the answer. The Joker laughed again.
"What are you going to become when Batman can be no more?" He sat forward and raised his eyebrows. "Forgive me if I can't see you saying 'Would you like fries with that?'"
"What are you going to become when there's no more world left to burn?"
"Figured it out, have you? That all of this..." he said, spreading his arms wide and licking the corners of his mouth. "... means nothing. That the world is a vast wasteland. Peace will always be unattainable. But chaos… chaos is not only attainable, it's permanent. It is everlasting."
"To you, maybe. You sound like the League of Shadows..."
"Oh believe me, I would never spout something so noble as that. That was planned chaos with purpose. True chaos has no purpose."
"And that's you?" The Joker lifted his make-up stained hands to frame his face.
"That is me," he said before folding his hands in front of him. "I am so glad we've come to this understanding. And I told Harvey this before... well... before... I am a mere agent of chaos. What happens to me... well, I simply don't care. See how that works well for me?" The Joker sat back on his bed with a satisfied smile. The gun had lowered. It was hard to find 'justice' in killing a man who didn't care one way or another if he died. It was what made what the Joker did all that much more… fun. Watching people beg and plead for their insignificant little lives.
That was the beauty of being completely… insane. To inflict pain, to incur pain… neither was a pleasure to him. Not really. There was no label to it. It was just… fun.
"So, go. Go jump off your buildings, go truss up your bad seeds and errant youths, go protect those honorable citizens. You know... the ones that turned their backs on you. Blamed you. Then you'll come back here, defeated and very much alone and wanting to know how to break that one rule to bring order to a city that vilifies its supposed savior. You need me. You will always need me, because I know how to do what you are incapable of," he said.
"And what, exactly, is that?" the question was filled with a mix of disgust and curiosity. The Joker could only smirk again.
"Everything."
The punch landed quickly, and the Joker didn't make a sound as it connected with his face. He only smiled. The next punch was harder and all he could do was suck in a breath at it. Then he let it out on a laugh.
"You're getting there, grasshopper," he chuckled as he righted himself. The man in black looked like he wanted another blow. But he held himself in check. The Joker could only shake his head.
"You'll know you've finally let go when that fist will keep flying, no regard for law, justice, pride or any of those other little things that keep a leash on you. It is that tiny little leash that holds you back," the Joker mused. With another grin, he stretched unceremoniously before sitting back down on his bed.
"I said it before, you've changed things. There's no going back. And it's that fear of not coming back that keeps you from severing that leash. You're not a real hero. A real hero can't worry about that. A real hero doesn't have to worry about that. But you… it's what keeps you up at night. It's what you can never resolve. Because to cut that leash would be to become me and there would be no going back for you. Yet you don't know any other way for you to save the world," he said. The Batman struggled. It was written on every inch of his half-exposed face.
"There's no place for you in this world. And I'll prove it. I'll beat you," the caped man growled. The Joker sat back and placed his hands behind his head.
"But not tonight…" he responded, closing his eyes. He could feel the hate swirling around the room. He could feel the frustration and the pain. The crusader had lost the woman he loved and his only hope at a normal life tonight.
Oh, but there's so much more important things to lose… The Joker opened his eyes again in time to watch as the man in black slipped out as easily as he had slipped in. It was ironic that it was thought that this very room would hold him when the Batman could come and go as he pleased. With a deep, pleased breath, he sat back down on the bed. It was almost time…
Gotham City should watch out. This was merely the beginning of a beautiful, twisted relationship. Watch out, indeed. They probably could do this forever. It was what the Joker had in mind, anyway.
After a long moment, he crossed his arms over his chest as he lay back to look at the ceiling. He had lied to his old pal, Harvey, earlier that day. He would know exactly what to do with a car if he caught it… tear it to pieces. With patience. One by one.
The End A/N: I'm toying with the idea of doing a small series after this piece, but if I do it's a long way off. So much other stuff to get done before I take on another "epic" piece of sorts. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading!