Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Europa (Comics)
Relationship: Batman/Joker (DCU), Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Character: Batman, Joker (DCU), Bane (DCU), Harleen Quinzel, Alfred Pennyworth, Edward Nygma, Superman Additional
Tags: Amputation, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Comedy, Secret Identity Fail, Joker Knows Who Batman Is, Domestic Fluff, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Size Difference, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Joker/Harleen Quinzel
Summary: In which Bane actually rips off Joker's arm in Europa, Batman is doing his best but Bruce Wayne is better, and Joker enjoys traumatizing people.
Notes:Before we begin, I want to explain a few things. First of all, this is based on a what if scenario in which Batman had waited a few minutes more before distracting Bane and gave Bane the chance to rip off Joker's arm. I'm 100% sure that that's what Bane had intended to do (literally rip Joker limb from limb) and I'm almost sad that they didn't go that route in the comic. The whole idea came from a single comic page in Europa, Page 117 ( /reader/Batman_Europa/Batman_Europa_(2016)/117) (non-spoiler page).
Second, I've made this Batman physically look like the one from White Knight for the sole purpose of I love the Height Difference between Joker and Batman ( /reader/Batman_White_Knight/Batman_White_Knight_(2017)_1/7) (non-spoiler page).
By the time they entered Rome, Joker was so sick that he couldn't laugh anymore. The fever burned him up from the inside out and lent a painful edge to everything. He was worried about Batman more than he cared to admit. The Bat was losing his fucking mind a lot faster than Joker was.
Batman grabbed Joker by the coat and hauled him close. His breath smelled like iron and heat. His blue eyes were unfocused, angry, confused. "Have you listened to a single word I've said, you maniac?"
Joker lifted his lips in a silent snarl. "You didn't say anything. We were walking down the via, you spun, grabbed me, and spewed this...batitude." If they lived through this virus, Joker would have to congratulate himself on that one.
For a moment Batman looked more confused than angry while his fever-idled brain tried to keep up. Then the anger returned full force. "The Colossus virus might make staying focused harder by the minute, Joker, but I know whoever led us around Europe had it all planned from the beginning." Batman tossed Joker away like he was garbage. "And I know just who that might be…"
The warning hung in the air and Joker scoffed. "Hey!" His Bat must be going even crazier than Joker thought. Funny how all it took was a life-eating virus to make him fall. Joker would have to try this again under a more controlled setting. If he lived. "You must be crazy to have to make me the rational one, but fine." He staggered and followed after Batman. "If you think I've infected myself...or that I value your death more than my life then you've really taken 'when in Rome' to heart."
Batman didn't answer, just kept walking.
So Joker kept talking. It kept his mind off the way colorful lights surrounded everything and how weak he was becoming. He taunted Bats about having a thing for some historic guys; he totally did, too, it was great fodder.
"Basta!" Batman bit out. Enough! He stopped. "We're here."
Joker barely glanced at the coliseum. They walked into the monument. Dead guards hung from the walls. Most of them looked like they'd been torn apart limb from limb. "Hmm...Judging by the state of security, I'd say there's a new Emperor in town."
Something was burning beautifully in the center. The heat from the flames fanned the fire inside. Joker wanted to shed the jacket he wore, strip down to his batman-themed boxers. He didn't because he recognized this part; it was the boss fight.
The first thing the boss did was insult Batman.
Joker leapt to his defense. Bats was emotionally constipated but he wasn't stupid.
Bats literally shoved him out of the way. His eyes were focused solely on the man in front of them. He demanded to know what the man wanted.
Was this how a Robin felt when Batman went after Joker? Ugh. He didn't recognize the man talking to them. It nagged at the back of his fever-idled mind. Something about it made Joker want to laugh but he couldn't force the noise past his throat. The boss was monologuing about how they could pass each other on the street and not know it when they looked like normal people. Who was smart enough to do this? Surely not Nygma or Crane. There was that size, too. There weren't many super villains that big; just Croc and… "Oh crap."
Bane put on his mask and shed the coat he wore. He bellowed at them like a bull and if Joker hid behind Batman that was his own business. He only had a second to realize this before he and Bats were being picked up and smashed together like toys in the hands of a playing child. Then they were both being smashed into the ground.
Joker groaned weakly. That hurt. He heard a crunch when Batman landed. Something must have broken in the Bat.
Batman, ever the fighter, was rolling onto his knees. His reflexes were that much slower. "You can't kill me, Bane. Don't you know that?"
"No." Bane punched Batman in the back of the head.
Bane grabbed Joker by the collar of his suit and yanked him backwards. Joker lost track of the conversation for a moment. A huge fist collided with his abdomen and several ribs broke. Bane dropped Joker a second time.
Immediately, Joker scrambled out of the way. Every breath and movement sent sharp pain through his abdomen. Joker hated fighting Bane even though he always won their fights. Now, it looked like Bane was getting some sort of revenge. But why? He and Joker rarely ever fought. Even then it was just business. Nothing personal between them. Once he was safe behind a wall, he twisted around to fixate puppy dog eyes on Bane. "But why infect me? I don't get it. I mean, it isn't funny."
"Don't you dare hurt him, Bane!"
Joker's heart gave a painful squeeze that had nothing to do with his bodily trauma. Bats had to of lost it if he was spouting out things like that about Joker. He heard a fight but didn't turn around.
"Ah, so now you understand." Bane sounded strangely happy. "That's all I was waiting for, detective. That light to go on." Joker thought they were seeing plenty of lights right now. "You needed to know that you can't live without Joker-"
What? Someone else figured it out too? Oh no...
"-Before I kill him." Bane had found him. He punched Joker again, didn't hold back at all despite the fact that he'd already broken the clown's ribs.
Joker tasted blood in his throat. He felt something inside break and convulse. His ribs splintered beneath his skin from the impact.
The next punch was to Joker's face. It rattled the teeth in his skull but mercifully didn't dislodge any of them. Bane was distracted with talking to Batman; the punch didn't pack quite as much of a kick.
Joker collapsed to the ground like a rag doll. He struggled to breathe.
Bane dropped a knee onto the small of Joker's back.
His pain was so strong that Joker couldn't even scream. Joker was pinned under Bane. If he hadn't been sick he may have been able to wiggle free; even with the broken ribs. As it was, he could barely crawl.
Bane stopped that little movement with a hand on his head, shoving Joker's face into the dirt. His hand was as big as Joker's whole head.
Joker didn't want to die like this. Not like this. He was supposed to die at Batman's hands or live forever. A soft whimper of weakness slipped past his lips. "N-no."
Bane grabbed Joker's right arm with the hand that wasn't holding his head down. He started pulling back.
It hurt! Joker reached out for his Bat.
Bane kept pulling.
The bones in Joker's arm shattered and Joker couldn't hold in the loud groan of agony. This pain didn't feel good. Not at all. His stomach twisted with nausea. He wanted it to stop! Where was Batman?
Bane adjusted his grip. Then he yanked on Joker's arm.
There was an awful pause, a moment which seemed slowed down and Joker felt his muscle and flesh tearing and the way his joint popped sickly from his shoulder. Joker screamed. It sounded like nothing that had ever come from his mouth before; beastial and high. It sounded like the noise an animal made right before it died. Joker's mind blanked. All he knew was pain. He couldn't even think about what happened; it was just pain, pain, pain!
Batman roared. It was beastial, primal, full of rage. It was a sound that terrified most people whether they were criminals or not.
Joker was glad to hear it. He was gladder when Bane's weight was gone and he could lay there in pain. His entire body shook, teeth chattering with the pain of it. Joker's vision faded in and out as he struggled to remain conscious. The damn virus was killing Bats and the blood loss was killing Joker and Batman was killing Bane. It looked like this was the end of the line for him. At least as long as he died he would be taking Bats out with him. Batman couldn't live in a world without Joker. It hurt so much.
He forced himself to focus on the fight. Bane was about to snap Batman's spine. Again. No. Joker followed a hunch. "Kill him, Bane." Joker growled before dropping his head back into the dirt.
"Eh?" Bane's foot was poised to go crashing down onto Batman's spine. "But he dies, you do too!" As if killing Batman wasn't the plan all along.
Joker let out a sigh of relief and tasted dirt. He was right. They'd been right.
"You don't understand, Bane. Joker can't help himself. And neither can I."
Joker had to of been high as fuck and dying because he could have sworn he saw bats - literal flying rodents - descend from the sky and swarm Bane. He closed his eyes. It hurt less when his eyes were closed.
The next time Joker opened his eyes, Batman stood over him. He kneeled and helped Joker onto his hand and knees. "Get up." They ignored the fact that Joker's severed arm was a few feet away from them.
Joker's limbs didn't want to hold him up. His ribs ached under Batman's strong hand. He managed a bloody smile. "My, my. What a pair we are." He laughed weakly.
"Shut up." Batman growled. His voice was slurred and more tired than Joker had ever heard it. "Your arm…?"
Was that a joke? His Bat always did have the strangest sense of humor. He shifted his gaze to the space his arm used to be. Blood poured freely from the open wound. "It looks fine." Joker's vision faded to black. "It only hurts when I laugh," he manages.
"Well then, I'd tell you not to laugh but I know you too well, Joker." Batman followed his gaze to Joker's severed limb. "If I'm correct, the antidote is in our blood. We are each other's antidote."
Joker laughed again and pain spasmed through him. "I don't think your blood will help me, Bats." He shivered. When did it get so cold? "If the virus doesn't get me, the blood loss will." His arm gave out and Joker face planted onto Batman's lap. His bruised cheek protested. This wasn't how he'd wanted to end up with his face in Batman's lap. "Not much longer now…"
Batman maneuvered him so that he's laid on his back, head still on Batman's thighs. "I'm thinking about letting you die."
Joker met Batman's eyes. "I know."
"The world would be better off without you."
Joker closed his eyes. He was too tired to keep them open for more than a few seconds. "That's debatable. Don't think I've got the energy for it though."
"Did you really let Nina die?"
"I am utterly shocked, I mean…" You just said you know me. Right? "I would always choose you, Batsy darling." Joker reached a hand up and cupped it against the back of Batman's neck. He used the last of his strength to pull Batman's face to his. "Save me, Batman." Then he kissed Batman's bloody lips. There was tongue because the point was to drink the blood but also because he really wanted to properly kiss Batman. And they didn't get to French kiss while they were in Paris. Joker pulled back his tongue and swallowed down the blood.
He was going to pass out, he knew it. Could feel the life draining out of him even as the fever ebbed. He let me kiss him was the last thought he had before Joker blacked out.
Joker had either followed the light at the end of the tunnel or he was in a hospital room. The smell of sickness and iron and antiseptic told him that it was probably the second one. The normal people of the world would be concerned to wake up and find themselves in a new location than the one they'd fallen asleep in but not Joker. He'd done it far too many times to be truly worried. Breathing didn't hurt as much as Joker remembered it hurting last time he was conscious. In fact, Joker felt pretty okay. That was odd because painkillers only worked on him in very large quantities. His blue eyes followed the tube of the IV stuck in his arm to a literal keg hanging from the ceiling.
Huh. Well. That was new. It probably explained why he didn't feel like death warmed over, either. For a moment Joker considered ripping the IV from his arm and went to do just that. Except he couldn't. There was no second arm to move. Joker's brain sent the signals but nothing happened because his arm had been severed. Right. Well.
Joker stared at the spot his arm used to be in. He was wearing a hospital gown but it did little to hide the bandages wrapped around his chest. He was high as a fucking spaceship but Joker was still very aware of the tightness around him like a hug. In a hospital that meant bandages. At home it meant Harley or his weighted blanket or one of the hyenas. So. He was down to one arm. That was definitely a thing. How exactly was he going to continue to be the Clown Prince Of Crime if he was down to one arm? Almost everything he did was with two arms. He couldn't even crochet with one arm or build a bomb with one arm.
Joker's lip quivered. His eyes filled with unshed tears that blurred his vision. How could he dance with Batman if he only had one arm to do it? What if Batman didn't want him anymore? A low whine built in his throat. Would he lose all of Batman's respect because he only had one arm? Did Batman think he would be easier to tame now that he only had one arm? Joker used that arm to wipe at his eyes. No. NO! He was not going to cry over this. Joker was adaptable. It was one of his best traits. If he had to find a new way to dance with Batman then he would. He would keep Bat's interest, show him that Joker wasn't out for the count.
Speaking of Bats...where the hell was that flying rodent? Joker was alone in his room. He squinted at the posters on his walls. They were in Italian with English subtitles. So he was still in Rome. No surprise there; Joker had almost kicked the bucket. Bats wouldn't have had time to get him home. But where was Bats?
A nurse came in to the room. Her lips were red and her face pale. Joker vaguely recalled her face as one of his cronies from Paris. "Mister Jack Napier, it's good to see you awake." She spoke Italian with a French accent. "You've suffered greatly. Four splintered ribs, a concussion, strain to your spine, loss of the right arm, along with the remains of what seems to be some sort of virus in your system. The doctors here at the hospital have worked very hard to keep you alive this past week -"
"WEEK?!" Joker repeated in French. "I've been here an entire week?!" Usually, Joker could bounce back fairly well. He was special like that. No one could explain it. A week was an unusually long time for Joker to be in the hospital. It was a long time for him to be unconscious. Joker glanced at the keg of drugs that kept him from feeling anything.
The nurse followed his gaze. "They had to up your dosage of pain medication to what a large elephant would need to be, ah, put down."
Joker ran his hand through his hair. It felt greasy. He made a face. If he's been here for a week then that means they've also got a catheter in him. Gross. Joker licked his scars as he took in this new information. If Bats wasn't also in this hospital then he was probably back in the United States. But Batman would never leave Joker like this so he had to be close. "Where's the Bat?"
Now the woman looked nervous. She glanced down at her clipboard to avoid Joker's gaze. "I only have suspicions. They're keeping a man down the hall from you. His identity is a secret."
Instantly Joker knew; it was the Bat without his face on. The urge to see him was gone. He didn't want to ruin the game by exposing anyone's secret identity. Joker didn't want anything to do with whoever Batman is when he takes off the cowl. He lifted his finger and made a come here motion to the nurse. When she obeyed the command, Joker took her clipboard and pen from her. He thought about stabbing her with the pen but she was going to be his messenger so he couldn't do that quite yet. He scribbled out a quick message on a sticky note then surrounded his words with hearts and little bats. "Give this to the man down the hall."
The woman took the note and hurried out of the room.
Joker had no doubt that she would do what he told her to. She was one of his many loyal followers. Now all he had to do was wait. Thankfully he had plenty of practice with waiting on Batman to show up. Joker settled back against the pillows and let his eyes slip half shut. More rest would help him to heal and he would hear if anyone else came in. Probably. These drugs were pretty good.
"Bats," Joker whispered as he rose up from a drug-induced sleep. He still felt light and warm. The pain he should be feeling was a mere suggestion of actual pain.
"I'm here, Jay," Batman's gravelly voice reassured him. He squeezed Joker's hand.
Joker opened his eyes. He rolled his head to the side with a yawn. "Hi."
Batman wore his suit and cowl. They no longer had the scent of disease and slum on them so he must have washed them somehow. Maybe Joker wasn't the only one with followers here. There were still healing scratches on his face and a slump to his shoulders. "Hi. How are you doing?"
Joker smiled. "I'm trying to think of an amputee joke but I'm stumped."
Batman stared at him for a solid sixty seconds. "Oh no."
"Oh yes," Joker chirped happily.
"You are not -"
"Oh but I am -" Joker's grin grew.
"Going to start with the amputee puns."
"How do you get a one armed man down from a tree?" Joker asked. He paused for a heart beat. "You wave to him!"
Batman groaned. He still hasn't let go of Joker's hand though. That was progress. "Jay, be serious for me please. How are you doing?"
Joker's smile faded. He tapped his fingers against the back of Batman's hand. "I keep trying to move it and it's not there. But. You know. I'm alive. So that's something."
Batman's edges softened a little. "Yeah."
"So what did you do with my arm?" Joker would have had to be an idiot to miss the way Batman tensed. "Bats? Where's my arm?"
For the first time Joker can ever remember, Batman looked like a deer caught in the headlights. All of his confidence was gone. Batman distinctly avoided Joker's gaze. "If you recall, Bane had a fire going."
Joker's eyes widened in realization. He snatched his hand back. "You. Burnt. My. Arm?!" In that moment he thought of all the pranks he could have pulled if he still had the limb. How many people he could scare and gross out with it. Joker felt like a child whose toy was taken away before he even knew what he had.
"I, um, didn't think you'd want it." Batman admitted. His entire stance was still tense. He was no idiot when it came to Joker's temper. "And the doctors wouldn't have been able to reattach it."
"Well now they can't because you burned it!" Joker huffed. He thwacked Batman upside the head. "How am I supposed to hit people with my severed arm when you lit it on fire?!" For good measure he hit Batman a few more times. Nothing to seriously hurt; just something to make himself feel better and drive his point home.
Batman took the abuse with grace. "I'm...sorry about your arm, Jay."
Joker shook his head. "You sorry about my ribs too?" He pointed the tender bruise on his face. "Or my face?" Joker rolled his face away from Batman. It was still a little too much energy to lift his head.
Batman's silence answered for him.
"Of course not. Those will heal." Joker rolled his eyes. "My arm isn't going to grow back so you've got to feel sorry about that. Your moral code won't let you feel anything else since it's your fault I was a target at all."
Batman heaved a sigh. "Joker, I don't want to fight." His blue eyes pled with Joker through the cowl. The Bat did look tired and he had taken quite the beating; though it was still nothing compared to Joker's beating. He slipped his hand off the bed as though suddenly realizing it was still there. So much for holding hands and making progress. "I've got to go back to my room before anyone misses me."
Joker huffed but his expression was amused. "What a lovely tale that makes. Boy sneaks out of his room to slip into a girl's room while their caretakers are unaware. Does he kiss her?"
Batman stood up and left without answering.
Joker watched him go with a sigh. At least he got to kiss Batman once with it being reciprocated.
Despite the fact that his ribs were still healing, Joker was given the okay to travel. He refused any sort of physical therapy and attempts at getting the story out of him. He didn't kill anyone for asking though he thought about it. As soon as he was given permission to travel, Batman booked them a flight home on a private plane. Apparently he intended to bring Joker with him despite the fact that it may be easier for him to just leave Joker in Rome and make him someone else's problem.
Joker was wheeled onto the plane despite the fact that his legs work fine. He didn't break them. His ribs still had a few more weeks to go and he has been off the pain medicine so he was really feeling the burn. He also felt his phantom limb but he tried to hide it. No need in making himself look pathetic or bothered by it.
The inside of the plane was done up in creams and gold and both of them - Bats in his black suit and Joker in borrowed clothes - looked out of place in it. It obviously wasn't a Bat-plane. The seats faced each other and had the option to recline. Joker snapped his teeth at the nurse who tried to help him sit in the seat then looked to his Bat for assistance.
Batman reluctantly helped Joker into the seat opposite his. He even buckled Joker's seatbelt before easing himself down opposite of Joker. Then he pulled out his phone and started opening apps.
The good news was that there's a bar and as soon as the nurse left, Joker got up to get himself something to drink. Joker mixed together drinks to make something sweet and fruity that would pack a real punch. After a moment's hesitation, he made one for Batman too. The Bat was still moving a little stiffly. Joker handed him his drink then carefully fell back into his seat. It was a luxurious plane and the seats were comfortable enough to sleep in. Joker sipped his drink, watching Batman over the brim of his glass.
Bats was occupied with something. He had been for the past several days. Joker has never considered himself one to be outrageously jealous but now he found himself jealous of the phone in Batman's hands that took all of the Bat's attention. Batman didn't even touch the drink except to set it aside.
The pilot's voice came over the intercom announcing that they would be leaving and to remain in their seats. As if either of them was really in any condition to do anything other than sit there.
Batman continued texting.
Joker grew bored as he sipped his drink. What would keep Bats attention off him? "It isn't poisoned, you know."
"Huh?" Batman looked up and not for the first time, Joker saw a sliver of his daytime persona.
"The drink. It's not poisoned." Joker took another sip of his own.
"If anyone could poison a drink on a private plane it would be you," Batman replied though he didn't sound overly concerned. His eyes dropped back down to the phone and his thumbs started moving again.
Joker stared at him. What could be so important that Batman isn't paying Joker the proper attention. He summoned the energy needed to snatch Batman's drink and down it in one burning gulp. Sleep tugged at his consciousness. Before this Joker had never slept so much in his life. He knew that he healed faster when he was asleep and that depriving himself of sleep meant that even a papercut could become a serious, festering infection.
Batman looked up again and searched his face. He leaned over and hit a button that dimmed the lights. "Get some rest, Joker. It's a long flight."
Joker reclined his seat until it was comfortable then slumped down until his shoes touched Batman's shoes. "Don't tell me what to do." He stayed awake staring at Batman until his eyelids grew too heavy to stay open.
Once they touched Gotham soil, Joker refused to be coddled. It was mostly alright in Rome but here he had appearances to keep up. He'd spent almost a month away from his territory so he needed to make sure that the vultures hadn't tried to swoop in. As much as he would have liked to hang out with Bats more, he needed to get back to business. "Bye, Bats." Joker waved as he walked off the air strip.
Batman let him go.
Joker walked to the nearest business and asked to use their phone. He didn't have any weapons on him - thanks, Batman - and after nearly a month his hair was losing its green color. He hadn't even been given any makeup while he was in the hospital. Plus he was wearing borrowed clothes so he really didn't even look like himself. It was very obvious when his presence in the little diner didn't alarm anyone. His first call was to his favorite henchman, Dimitri. "Dimitri, baby, gather up the crew. Tell them daddy's home and we're going to have some fun tonight."
Once that was done, he hung up and called Harley. She screamed in his ear when he answered. Ugh. "Shut up, Hars. I need you to come pick me up." He rattled off the address. "Now. And bring my emergency bag. I need to get out of these clothes."
Harley replied with something lewd that Joker ignored. They weren't dating at the moment and Joker wouldn't even bother with her if he'd had a choice. She promised to be there as soon as she could.
Joker accepted that. He sat down at a booth and ordered a slice of apple pie and a coffee. All the while he stared out the window. There were plans to make yet Joker's mind wandered back to his trip around Europe with Batman. The surprise at having Bat burst through a window on the other side of the world. The fear when he realized Bats was going to die if Joker didn't save him. The pride of showing off his cult of loyal followers. The pain when Bane beat them up and took Joker's arm. Joker winced with the last memory. He could still very well call up that pain and it felt almost as raw as it did when it happened. And beneath it all was the delirium and heat of the fever.
He licked at his scars inside his cheeks to settle himself. His heart pounded too fast in his chest for his liking. Joker sat still and told himself to get his body under control. His fingernails dug into his thigh, the pain grounding him from a memory of pain. These things didn't always make sense. Joker just did whatever worked. When his heart rate had returned to something normal, Joker released his thigh. He picked up his coffee mug and sipped the rest of it. The hot liquid flowing over his tongue gave him something else to think about.
The squeal of tires alerted Joker to Harley's presence before he actually saw her. She pulled up in a bright red camaro, taking up two parking spaces. There was nothing subtle about her entrance nor her red and black jester's outfit. Harley threw the door open. "Puddin'!" She screeched at the top of her lungs upon entry.
Everyone in the diner jumped except for Joker. Joker put his mug down and waved at Harley.
Harley bounded over to him. "Mistah J!"
"Where's my bag, Harley?" She hadn't noticed yet but Joker didn't want to be here when she did.
She pulled the strap of the duffle bag over her head and handed it to him. "Where have ya been, Mistah J? I've been so lone -"
"I'm going to change," Joker cut her off. He slid out of the booth and kept his left side to her while he walked to the bathroom. She was going to find out. He should just tell her. Joker glanced around the diner. The other patrons had mostly gone back to eating but a few of them were giving him and Harley looks. He didn't want to do it here. Joker walked into the disabled stall and hung his duffle bag on the provided hook. The pants and underwear were easy to get off. He had a little more trouble with the shirt, had to wiggle to get it over his head. Left in just his socks, Joker was forced to lean against the bathroom wall - at least it wasn't sticky or wet - and peel them off one at a time. His ribs still ached.
Once he was naked, Joker opened his duffle bag. He stared down at the purple suit within and for a second he wished that he'd just left the borrowed clothes on. Once he put the suit on, everyone would know that it was Joker. They were probably already suspicious but now they would have no doubts. He shook his head. Better to just get it over with. Wiggling out of his clothes had been easy - if painful - but getting into them with only one hand proved to be a challenge. Bats had helped Joker dress before they got on the plane and before that, Joker had been lounging around in a hospital gown.
The thing that no one told him was that it still felt like his arm was there. Sure, it hurt like a bitch but Joker's brain was still convinced that the limb was attached. He tried to switch hands and dropped his batman-themed underwear. Joker picked them up and tried again. One leg at a time, inching them up. This was stupid. Whatever. He wondered how long he'd been in the bathroom already. His pants were a deep, nearly black violet color. They were a challenge as well. How often had he gotten dressed using only one hand? You don't realize how much you take something like an entire limb for granted until it's gone.
When his pants were on, Joker felt better. The top half of his ensemble would probably be easier. It wasn't. Joker got his left arm into the sleeve, went to do the same with his right, and remembered it wasn't there. His dress shirt was such a light shade of green that it almost looked white. The buttons were a shade darker. It was one of his favorite shirts because it was comfortable material that didn't agitate his sensitive skin; which was why it was in his emergency kit because every time he'd had need of it he was so banged up that only comfortable clothes would do. With a missing arm, the shirt hung awkwardly on his lean frame and the buttons were stubbornly refusing to line up with the holes.
He briefly considered calling Harley in here but his face warmed at the thought. He didn't want her to see this. It was dawning on him that everything was going to be that much more difficult. Joker had already been in the bathroom for twenty minutes and he was only half dressed. Normal things were going to take that much longer to do. Eventually Joker gave in and used his teeth to draw the dropping side of his shirt across his chest. He fumbled with every button but by the time he'd gotten to the bottom he no longer had to hold the shirt in place with his teeth.
Joker's green vest went on a little easier. It rested nicely on his shoulders and he felt pretty good about the buttons. He smiled down at himself. Almost there! Next he tackled his socks. For that, Joker had to sit on the bathroom floor. Thank god whoever ran this place made sure the bathrooms were clean. Just for that he would actually pay for his food. Maybe. At any rate, he wouldn't shoot the place up. His socks slipped off a few times before he managed to get them on his toes and up past his heels. The shoes were laceless and went on easily.
Last was his coat, which was heavy leather and only a single shade away from being black. Joker gathered up his borrowed clothes and stuffed them into the duffle bag. He opened a side pocket and pulled his gun from the midst of cosmetics. The gun went in an inner pocket of his coat. Later he'd take care of his skin - oh his poor skin was so painful - but right now he wanted to get out of this bathroom. Joker pretended like he didn't see the gloves there too. He slung the dufflebag over his shoulder and exited the bathroom.
Maybe Harley wouldn't even notice. Joker smiled. He wondered how long he could keep that charade up before she noticed.
Harley stood up and waved at Joker from their table. She'd finished off his pie and coffee. Whatever.
"Let's get out of here, Harley." Joker walked by the table on the way to the exit. He didn't kill anyone. Plenty of people would die tonight, he rationed. Before then there were more things to take care of.
Joker didn't like how surprised Batman was to see him. "Surely you didn't think I'd be able to resist coming out into the lovely Gotham night air for a dance with my favorite partner, did you, Bats?" He aimed his gun and let off a shot. The bullet brushed Batman's bicep but otherwise didn't do any more damage. It was just to entice his Bat into playing. Hurt Batman too much and Joker wouldn't be seeing him for an entire week.
The shot worked. Batman shook himself out his surprise and chased after Joker.
Joker flew across the rooftops of Gotham city. He was a monster in the night. His was the face of death. His ribs hurt. His brain told him that he had two hands and the right one was currently tingling painfully. Joker ran just out of reach - intended to keep going until his Bat was ran ragged - until he tripped. One moment he was running, the next he'd face planted onto the rooftop. His brain said he had two working arms. The reality was that he only had one and so he smashed his nose into the gritty rooftop.
Batman was on him in an instant. He straddled Joker, grabbed hold of his one wrist. There was the telltale rattle of handcuffs before Batman realized that he didn't need them.
Joker's nose bled and his body hurt. He was confused and angry and humiliated. The weight of his Bat was a comforting and humiliating one in the face of what had happened. So Joker did what he always did when he was unhappy. He laughed. Laughter poured from Joker's mouth and rang out clear in the night. "And - ahaha - what exactly - hehe - do you plan to do with those?" They'd forgotten for a second. Both of them had. To his surprise, Joker felt the cuff go around his wrist anyway. Then he heard another one snap and suddenly Batman's weight was gone and Joker was being hauled up by his wrist. "Ow!"
Batman had cuffed them together. His lips were almost curved up in a smirk. 'What now' that smirk seemed to say.
Joker snorted. "Touche, Bats." He pushed forward and pulled with his hand at the same time, drawing Bats near him. Once they were more or less face to face, Joker smiled up at Batman. "You got me. What are you going to do with me now?"
"You're going to Arkham." Well at least some things hadn't changed.
"Let go of my puddin'!"
Both of them turned when they heard Harley's voice. She'd snuck up on them, wielding a huge mallet.
"Wait -!"
The mallet struck Batman hard enough that he was knocked on his ass.
Joker fell with him. He groaned as he ended up half on Batman and half on the ground. Was doing this tonight really a good idea? "Harley!"
"Mistah J. what are you doing down still in those cuffs?" Harley went to pull on his hand. Except there was nothing but sleeve for her to grab. The look of utter confusion on her face was priceless.
Or it would have been had Batman not chosen then to speak up, "You haven't told her?"
Harley took immediate offense to that. "Mistah J. tells me everything!" She still searched for Joker's arm. Her expressions mirrored her thoughts; she thought Joker was fucking with her somehow. Harley looked into Joker's sleeve.
"I had more important things to do." Like let everyone know that Joker was back in town. "Harley, stop messing with my sleeve!" He struggled to sit up.
"You should tell her, Joker," Batman advised. He seemed more intent on watching this play out than taking Joker back to Arkham.
Joker hissed at him. "Don't let her distract you from our dance, Bats."
"Where is your arm!?" Harley cried. She still clung to his sleeve.
"Bane ripped it off!" Joker snapped at her. He grinned at Batman. "While Bats and I were on our honeymoon."
Harley stared at them with a gaping mouth. She processed what he told her slowly. A dozen different emotions flitted across her face until finally her expression settled into a blank mask. Harley slowly stood up. "Excuse me, gentlemen." Her voice was perfectly calm as she hefted the mallet. "I've got a big fat gopher to exterminate." Harley backflipped away.
Joker wondered how long it would take Bane to kill her. He wasn't even sure if Bane was in Gotham again. "She's going to fucking die." He burst into laughter.
Batman thwacked him upside the head. "I should go after her."
"So you can get your ass kicked again?" Joker shifted his body weight and rolled on top of Batman. "Stay with me, darling. I'll make all your fantasies come true." Even as he said the words he felt Batman tense underneath him. Bats wouldn't stay.
Batman shimmied out from beneath Joker. He unlatched the cuff on his side and attached it to a pipe nearby. "Stay here while I go save your girlfriend."
Joker rolled his eyes. "We aren't together." As an afterthought he added, "right now."
Batman gave a noncommittal grunt and took off in the direction Harley had gone.
Just like that their dance for the night was over unless Joker could get out of his handcuff. Normally he would just break his wrist or dislocate his thumb but now he hesitated. He only had one hand. Before, even when he mangaled his wrists, he still had two of them and the knowledge that he could use them through the pain. His one good hand was nearly useless. At least until Joker adjusted to having only one hand. Until then he probably shouldn't be breaking it.
Instead, he tested the strength of the pipe he was stuck to. It didn't give so much as an inch. Not even when he kicked it. Well this was just fucking perfect. Absolutely dandy. Joker had left his phone at home so he couldn't even call one of his henchmen to come pick him up. He'd decided losing it was too much of a risk. What an idiot he'd been.
Joker tilted his head back to look up at the night sky. Maybe he'd just stay here. The jet lag seemed to be catching up to him, albeit slowly. Joker could just stay on the roof until the sun came up and if someone didn't come to get him by then, he would break his wrist to get free.