A/N: What can I say? It's that time of year again and a new Batman game is out...and...for whatever reason...whenever I play these games my love for Joker/Batman flares up again (and with half the things Joker says in Arkham Knight...can you really blame me?). This will (probably) be a lot tamer than Rough Teasing...and only have some gay hints? lol I don't know yet as this is only part one. So obviously, if you haven't played the game yet or are playing it and don't want to be spoiled...don't read this story. The first part explores a little bit what happened after Arkham City and leads up to the beginning of Arkham Knight. Let me know your thoughts ;)
Madness
Part One: The Aftermath
Gotham was slowly hurtling towards Halloween and appeared to have decided– as it was so often the case – to present itself in its most depressing colours.
Bruce Wayne stood by the window of the clock tower that he had chosen to be his new hideout and watched the rain wash down the glass. He was trying to prepare himself for the night that lay ahead of him, filled with the same combination of petty crime and larger than life villains that made Gotham the bleak city it was.
But righteous motivation was difficult to come by these days. Everything seemed to have altered when he had carried the disfigured body of the Joker out of the Monarch Theatre. He should've been grieving for Talia but found himself oddly numb instead. Perhaps years of sacrifice, of suffering losses of the people closest to him had finally taken their toll.
And so he'd spent a little while pondering the changes he could've made if only he'd been ready and willing to kill, the same way Talia had been. He thought about the people that had died, not at his own hand but in direct consequence of his shortcomings.
But in the end all these thoughts led to the same conclusion: He wasn't any more willing to kill now than he had been then. If anything, this recent experience had only confirmed why killing was not the answer. Not that this realisation made him feel any better because it came at the price of having to admit that the Joker had been right all along. He needed the clown and their strange little game as much as the clown had needed him.
Granted, Gotham had an array of villains that still required his attention, not to mention the regular mob wars that left the city wrecked in their wake but there was a predictability to it all that left Bruce feeling rather bored. If everything was so mundane all the time, so stuck in routine how could there ever be fun?
A strange chuckle bubbled up in his throat but he managed to suppress it before it could break free. Feeling nonetheless unnerved by the incident, he quickly turned and paced away from the window and towards a bust that was located on a shelf in the middle of the room. He allowed the computer to scan his retina and then watched as the space transformed into his makeshift bat cave. Perhaps a quick trip around the city would distract him enough and get him out of this funk he was in.
But half an hour later with the icy air whizzing through his cape and cooling his skin he still hadn't managed to steer his thoughts away from the clown prince. Instead he pondered all the mysteries the Joker had taken with him to his grave.
What had his obsession been with him? Why not Robin or Nightwing or Batgirl? Because even when he had engaged with them in his own particular way, it had always been done with the intention of capturing Batman's attention. And why had he chosen him? The crazy maniac and the stable, predictable Batman? How had he never grown bored of him?
Underneath the armoured suit, Bruce's heart ached in a way that caused a heavy nausea in the pit of his stomach. He knew he wasn't supposed to feel like this.
"Aww Batsy, you old softie, do you miss me?"a familiar voice asked, followed by a bout of hysterical giggling that had him touch down on the roof of one of Gotham's skyscrapers with a little more force than he had intended.
But when he whirled around there was no slim figure clad in a purple suit sitting perched on the edge of the building. Nonetheless, Bruce blinked and carefully stalked closer, half expecting a surprise attack from below.
But there was nothing.
Just a drop and a dark alleyway.
Releasing a deep, low sigh, Bruce closed his eyes again.
"Is everything alright, Master Bruce?" Alfred's voice cut through the silence and startled him.
"Yes, Alfred? What's wrong?" he replied, making sure to keep his voice firm and steady.
"There's crime reported all over the city but one especially peculiar case, Sir. An emergency call from a young lady."
"What's the location?"
"It's in Kingston, Sir, at the waterfront. I can track it to a parking garage. I'll send you the coordinates."
"I'm right here, I'll deal with it." And he disconnected their conversation.
"Convenient, eh?"
A flash of green intermingled with the sweet scent of candy and cheap cologne. Bruce growled and resisted the urge to reach out and grab the clown by his throat, knowing that he'd be grasping only thin air.
"Awww Brucie," the green-haired man giggled, "don't be so grumpy. Let's play a little. Let's have a little…" he paused and leaned in closer "fun…"
Bruce shivered and plunged down the side of the building, as far away from the clown as he could possibly get. Glad for the force with which his feet hit the ground that sent a sharp pain shooting up his ankles.
"Delicious," somebody giggled but he shook it off and kept walking.
He only liked the pain, he told himself, because it made him feel alive, because it gave him the sense that he hadn't gone completely insane yet.
"Sooner or later, Brucie."
The playful whisper made him shiver but the giggle that followed this time did not belong to a man. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"I'm glad to see that you've made time for me…"
He could see her mouth move in the dark, could make out the smiling grimace while he stepped closer.
So much like his.
At first he thought Harley Quinn had returned to the city to take her revenge but the voice didn't match.
"Who are you?" he narrowed his eyes.
"Don't you recognise me, Batman? I'm your biggest fan. You should've seen my latest work…I'm surprised you didn't hear. It was quite the scandal."
A girlish giggle that sounded more like a screech to his ears.
Something was very wrong.
"Who are you? What's happened? You were sending out a distress call."
"Was I?" she giggled again, "Oops…I guess I've been bad…"
He saw the blade of the knife flash before she swung his way, ducked and pulled her arm against her back.
"Drop it!"
She whimpered, then chuckled mildly and did as she was told.
"Ohoho…he was right…you do play rough…"
"Answer me!" he barked, twisting her arm up higher.
But she only squealed in delight and tried resisting harder.
"Who are you?" he demanded once more.
"Who I am?" she trembled excitedly and sing-songed: "You are me and we are three! The world we'll slay like Mr J!"
Impatience coursed through him, fury because she dared to talk like him, because she dared to keep him guessing while the rest of Gotham tolerated the regular criminal onslaught on its own.
"The Joker?" he growled, "Tell me what you know about him."
"Careful, Bats," the sweet smell was back and a moment later purple-fabric clad arms snaked around the woman's throat, "we don't wanna break that delicious neck?" He shifted his position and whispered into his ear once more. "Or do we?"
His voice sounded darker now, hungrier and Bruce could vividly picture the blood dripping down his chin, like a hungry dog who had just sunk his teeth into his victim's flesh.
Her screams brought him back to the present and with a growing sense of terror he realised that he had broken her arm by twisting it too much. Shocked and disgusted with himself he stepped away. He expected to see fear in her eyes but found satisfaction instead.
"Now kiss the booboo?"
She stumbled towards him, crushing her lips to his. She drove her teeth into his bottom lip and he growled and pushed her away. She tasted like him, but it wasn't the same. She wasn't Joker enough.
"Oracle, I need you to gather as much information as you can on a Miss…" he held her firmly and scanned her fingerprints for a match "Bell. Tell me anything you find. Her work, her friends, any chemical related accidents."
The woman turned out to be Christina Bell, Executive Director of Queen Industries who had seemingly overnight developed an unhealthy obsession with the Batman. Murdering eleven senior executives at a board meeting she had since disappeared and – as many believed– succumbed to her madness. But of course there hadn't been any other incidents reported that could explain why this strange turn had taken place or why she had suddenly started to resemble the Joker.
That was until more cases appeared all over Gotham. Other citizens who had suddenly changed and started to crave a little bit of humour in their lives. There was nothing to connect them except a couple of recent visits to the hospital. He had examined their blood relations but he hadn't considered their blood.
"You are me and we are three," Bruce repeated silently to himself, while watching how his recently taken inmates were acting in their cells.
Of course.
They had been infected just as he'd been infected months ago.
Why hadn't he thought about that earlier?
What had he been thinking about instead?
"Oh it's alright now, Brucie. You didn't think I'd leave you all alone, did you? That booboo is still a little sore from mommy and daddy, isn't it?" the clown giggled, swinging down from his perching place between the cells. "Although some people fancy picking at that scab again and again and again," he came closer, stabbing his chest with one of his long, white fingers, "I personally don't see the fascination." He laughed at his own joke and then turned to face the other way. "So what do you think about my little guinea pigs? Are they crazy enough to keep you entertained?"
Bruce didn't answer but instead tried steering his thoughts towards a possible solution. Something that would stop the Joker's blood from being circulated around the city.
"Come come now, Brucie, I really need an answer. Are they fucked up enough to satisfy you?"
"Enough…" he thundered and the three infected instantly snapped their heads in his direction.
"Oh I see now how it is…" the Joker whispered into his ear, having suddenly materialised behind him "there has to be a leader…It's you! You're the king of the fools! Vigilante turned villain…it would be tacky if it wasn't so…"
"Funny," Bruce finished for him, this time unable to stop the gurgling laughter that erupted from his body.