The real reason

by TheOtherKate

In the movies, we are never told how the Joker got his scars. And don't you think it's a bit weird how long Batman looks at the cards for. This is my version of how the Joker got his scars and why Batman is so obsessed with those cards. No pairings, no slash, no romance.

Hey there all you Batman fans! I wrote this just after The Dark Knight came out and I just haven't got around to uploading it. For any of you out there that are reading this note that nobody seems to read, I hope that you enjoy this oneshot on my view of how the Joker's scars came into being. I hope that I have catched the essence of both the Joker and Bruce Wayne (God he's scrummy! I could eat him like jam on toast!). Anyway, enjoy and please review! Thanks!

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Joker's POV

I'm no hero. And if you've heard of Batman's story then you're bound to have heard of all the sadistic and criminal things I've done. Well, that's not me. Not the real me; not the one that Marcy fell in love with. Not the one who's father used to beat him senseless. Not the one who watched their father take a blade to their mother's throat. And not the one who's only remaining family was destroyed by the Wayne's. If my family were alive now, they wouldn't recognise me. But then again, nobody recognises me now. Nobody can stand to look at me long enough to notice anything.

I came to Gotham city for one reason; to get my revenge on those who ruined my life. I am yet to complete my revenge and I sometimes doubt that I ever will but at least one problem has been dealt with. And I didn't even have to move a finger. Now there's no one to put all of those stupid criminals that keep on getting caught. Idiots. Although, I suppose that it would have been more satisfying if I had done the deed myself but, no matter. There's plenty of fun to be had with the citizens of Gotham city. And trust me, it is fun. They are just too easy to scare, especially after that scarecrow released that fear toxin of his. It all failed in the end though. "The Batman" saw to that. Most criminals hate him and for good reason. Me however, I love the guy. He makes what I do interesting. No point in being a villain without having a hero to try and stop you. And if you've actually got a hero that focus' all their time onto you, then you know that you're doing something right. (Or wrong. Depending on how you look at it.) But do you want to know what my favourite pastime to play with the Batman his? It's to bring him out on his rules. But he will learn; he will learn that the only way to survive in this world is to have no rules. And if he wants to break my "reign of terror" then he's just going to have to break his one rule. But we all know that he'll never do that. When he does though, I'll be there, waiting to tell him who he really is.

This...face. These scars. This make-up. It's not me. The make-up used to be Marcy's before they destroyed her. That's the only thing that's left of her for me to remember her by. I guess the only thing that truly belongs to me is my face. My eyes, my nose, my ears, my mouth; they're mine but nothing else. I've always wanted something for me. Just me and only me. Something that I don't have to share. Not my mum's, dads or even Marcy's. Not my granddads, my grandma's or Becky's. The closest thing I've ever had to something being mine, and still have, was the pack of Jokers that I have stashed in my suit. Although I didn't buy them myself, someone actually bought them for me. Me! I will never forget him. He's the guy that beat up 7 odd men and came out without a scratch. But that was the last time I heard from him. Or saw him for that matter. All I saw was him being dragged away by the guards, which wasn't all that unusual for him. But he was and still is my only true friend and him, only him, knows the true story behind the scars that call my face "home."

Flashback

"Why so serious?" asked one of the guards on patrol of the dingy prison, staring me, the new guy. I'd only just arrived, this morning to be exact, and had arrived with someone that the guards had labelled as "Batty." All because he claimed that he wasn't stealing from Wayne Enterprises even though we'd been caught red handed, loading box after box into a truck of our own. He never told me why he wasn't stealing but I believed him when he told me. I guess people just couldn't imagine someone like that stealing something. Oh well. But while he settled in just fine, already finding himself in enough fights, on his own, with enough different people to have killed him yet; he was one of the few inmates that weren't in the prison's infirmary. Bruce and me. I on the other hand, hadn't moved since arriving here. The guards have been asking me if I was simply lonely and when I didn't answer said that Batty wouldn't be back for a couple of weeks yet as he was in solitary confinement so I'd have to deal. (As you can tell, they didn't have time for names and gave each and every one of us our very own nickname. Some weren't too bad but mine and Bruce's were defiantly the worst.)

"I'm not serious." I said in a tone that scared most people I have ever encounted. But since this man worked in a prison it probably didn't have the effects that I was hoping for. He will have heard and seen it all before. People that were trying to act tough so that they won't get beaten up. But by far the roughest around here is Batty. He doesn't need to act tough for people to not pick a fight with him. After the first night here when people saw him fight against 3 guards, each with guns, and win; not many have dared to cross him which so far had made my life here a lot easier. Hadn't exactly made his easier though. Unless he likes solitary confinement. This is unlikely. It's supposed to be horrible down there.

"Really? You could have fooled me with that frown of yours." The guard reached through the bars and stuck his fingers at the edge of my mouth and pushed upwards, forcing my lips into a smile that I didn't plan on keeping. "See? Doesn't that feel better?" He asked sarcastically. The guards had a knack for that. Asking things to people sarcastically. It must be something you pick up here. I looked up at him with my piercing green eyes that had caught Martha's attention and stared at him for a good 10 seconds before whipping my head round to the left and biting his finger that was still situated at the corner of my mouth, drawing a small amount of blood. I gently ran into my mouth as I held firm as he tried to shake my head and mouth off of his finger but he wasn't succeeding. I had always found some form of comfort in blood. Ever since my mum was murdered. There was so much blood that night that I guess that I associate blood with her. The man eventually managed to pull away and immediately dragged his finger, hands and arms back through the bars so that he could inspect the damage to his finger that was now beginning to swell. He looked at his finger for a minute or 2 before looking back at me with wide, fearful eyes. Those wide eyes then slide back down to his bloody fingers. He appeared to be looking at the finger that I'd just bitten so I then to glanced down to his finger. There I saw 2 teeth marks that were continuing to ooze blood. I noticed that he'd opened his mouth to make a remark; sarcastic no doubt, when he suddenly clamped his mouth shut like a fish out of water. He then shoved his finger into his pocket. I guess that he didn't want people to see what a lonely inmate had done to his finger. He appeared to be listening to something so I followed suit and listened to what was going on down the hall. All I could hear were footsteps. That was nothing unusual. It was probably a couple of guards bringing someone back from the infirmary. Like I said, since I've been here, that's nothing unusual. I have no idea if it was unusual before me and Bruce got here. As the person got closer I could distinctly make out 3 different rhymes of footsteps. Closer again, another 2 behind them. At first I thought that they were possibly 1 inmate with 2 guards but now it appeared to be a different combination. Maybe it was somebody who wasn't trusted to be left alone with only 2 guards. I wasn't to know, I don't have the world's best hearing and I don't pay attention to gossip. As the group of people rounded the corner, I saw why there had been so many footsteps. They'd been walking Batty. They were probably scared that someone, one of the other inmates, might have tried to make a scene with him in the hallway and, as was obvious by the fact that there were so many guards, they were wary. But by the looks of things, there had been no encounter what so ever. They'd made it here from SC and they were now...well, I don't know what they were doing. And it appeared that neither did the guard that I'd just bitten.

Bruce was standing in the middle of 4 men which were pointing their guns at him while the person in front told the other 4 when they would be turning it appeared. And behind that there were another 3 guards. Also pointing their guns at Batty. Everybody enjoyed getting to say that they pointed a gun at the Batty inmate I guess.

"Why have you brought him back here? I thought he was meant to be in SC for another 2 weeks." That's what Batty had told me just before they came to come and get him. Heck, he'd been here less than a day and yet he'd already gotten into 3 fights. The 3rd one was the one that the guards had picked up on and done something about.

"We would have kept him there. Except he was still terrorising inmates down there so we have decided to keep him in here with the Joker. See if he can damage him." The guards replied as they dragged open the door, blocking all possible exits except the one into the cell, and threw Bruce in here with me.

"The Joker and Batty. A match made in heaven don't ya think?" One of the guards asked the guard I had just bitten, throwing his arm over his shoulders.

"A great couple indeed." The bitten one replied as the others laughed. Personally, I didn't get the joke or see the funny side. Then, they dragged the guy who'd been bitten away, chatting and laughing the whole way. Bastards.

*Scene Change*

"Hey mate. They asked me 'why so serious?' again and I'm tired of it! I want a permanent smile on my face to stop those name calling bastards!" I screamed at my friend. He didn't even flinch. He'd gotten used to my manic outbursts of screaming like a banshee and giggling like a little girl.

"Then just smile all the time." He shrugged, saying it like it was obvious.

"No! I don't want to have to put any effort into it. For it just to be there!" Again, he didn't flinch. Maybe the guards were right. He was a bit batty.

"Then carve a smile into your face." He said, lazily walking over to the solid slab of concrete these guys call a bed and lying down, trying to get comfy yet knowing that he never will. He may have only been here for a day but even he knew that he was trying to complete an unaccomplished feet. I thought back to what he said for moment, mulling the idea over and over in my head.

"That's a brilliant idea!"

"What?" He yelped, surprised enough to hit his head on the 'bed' above him. "Ow... Did you just agree to it?" I nodded my head frantically, suddenly excited about getting rid of the retched joke that only the guards found funny. "Man I was joking! No sane person would do that to themselves!"

"Exactly. That's why you're going to do it for me!" He looked at me like I was crazy.

"No! No! No way am I carving a smile into your face. Besides, what would I carve it with?"

"So you agree to do it if I find something to carve my face with?" I asked hopefully.

"What? No! Of course not!" He yelled, drawing the attention of the inmates in the cells around ours. "Look away people! There's nothing to see here!" He spoke calmly yet threatening enough to make them all respond by turning their back to us. Once he was satisfied, he turned back to me and made his way over, sitting on the lower of the small beds near me. "Why? I get that you're fed up but this is a bit drastic don't ya' think?" He didn't understand. He didn't have people teasing him, day in, day out. Yes that may be because everyone around here's terrified of him but still.

"Please! I'm begging here. Besides, if you don't do it then I will." I wouldn't really but I was counting on him not knowing that. I stared at him and he stared right back, looking at me with disbelief. I kept my eyes calm and serious, screaming at him within my head to agree to do this. He holds my gaze for a long time until he finally pulls his gaze away and, slowly but surely, nods his head at me, agreeing to do what I was asking of him. I couldn't believe it! I wanted to hug him but since he was a straight playboy and the guards would make a joke out of it, annoying me to no end, I decided against. Now all I had to do was find something for Batty to do it with. That could be tricky...er than getting Batty to agree to do it in the first place!

I've done it! I found something for Batty to use. I bribed one of the guards to give me their razor. Obviously these guards are a load of crap 'cause they just give it to me! Heck, I could have given it to Bruce. Well, I'm going to give it to him but not for him to use on anybody but me. But he'll be controlled around me. He doesn't want to do this in the first place. Anyway, all of the guards know how well it would end if Batty got a razor and planned on using it. They'd all be dead within days, maybe hours. He'd probably end up chopping somebody's hand off. Idiotic to give a sharp object to me then huh? Maybe they're all suicidal. Or maybe not... but who cares! Because this plan is perfect. The guards and everybody else will all stop laughing, jeering and taunting me with their "why so serious?" joke. Seriously! Do they have nothing better to do in their lives other than to torture wimpy people like me? Hmm... Now just to wait until Batty gets back from the isolation wing again. They might as well give him his own room over there with the amount of time he spends in that place!

He's coming back today! That means that he can get to carving my face... you know, when I put it that way, it doesn't sound like such a smart thing to do. Oh well. At least if it doesn't work and I die, I will never have to hear those blasted words again. And if I do live, great! It'll give me the opportunity to torture and kill every single person who singled me out to make fun of, just because I don't smile enough. I will have my revenge!

"Come on Batty! You promised!" I whined. He was refusing. He was disappointing me. He looked up at me. He was ashamed of me. Just like my parents had been my whole life.

"Yeah I promised. But I didn't think you'd actually go out and find something for me to do it with!" He was refusing. He was going to refuse to do this for me. He was admitting to have lied to me.

"But Batty-." I tried to reason with him once more, desperate for this to happen but he cut me off before I even got to the reasoning.

"And stop calling me that! You know my real name. Use it!" I was about to comment on the fact that nobody believed him when he said what his name was, even me. But he cut me off before I had been made a sound this time. "And that's another thing. Have you thought this plan through? At all!" This time I wasn't going to let him cut me off again.

"Yes I have. Now would you please carve a smile on my face?"

"Have you thought about-." This time I cut him off.

"Yes."

"What about-." I cut him off once more.

"Yes!"

"Are you sure that you want to-." Jeez! How many times do I have to cut him off before he gets the picture.

"Yes! Yes! And Yes! Now please... Take this blade and thrust it into my mouth and carve me a smile!" I pushed the razor blade into his face, stopping centimetres away from his nose. I kept enough space between the two, not because I didn't want him to get hurt, simply because if he is hurt, he wouldn't be able to carve me my smile! He took in a deep breath and took the blade out of my out stretched hand. He placed the blade on his index finger and dragged it across the tip, testing how sharp the razor is. It pierced the skin immediately, drawing blood that then dripped down his finger. He didn't even flinch. He looked up at me, away from his bleeding finger.

"You sure?" He was going to! He was going to do the one thing that I wanted. I grinned at him like a Cheshire cat.

"Yes." It was going to happen right now. I would never look the same again. Nobody would recognise me here, there or anywhere!

He walked right up to me and told me, calmly, to sit down. I did just that, sitting on the edge of his concrete slab, grinning like a maniac in anticipation.

"Relax your face man. This is gonna hurt enough without you tensing up like that." My smile immediately fell off my face. I had thought of all the consequences of after I'd done this but I hadn't thought of the pain during the carving. Best not to think of that now though 'ey!

Batty rested the blade near my check bone, across from my left ear. He hesitated for a second or two before sighing and digging the blade deep into my skin. My eyes teared up immediately. He was right; it did hurt. More than the beatings from my father. More than watching my own father kill my mother. More than Martha leaving me for that stupid Wayne. Bastard! More than what the guards call me in here. Maybe this really wasn't worth it. But as batty began to drag the blade across my face before stopping at the corner of my mouth, all I thought was 'too late now.'

He pulled the blade out of my skin and looked at his handy work. He swore under his breath and pulled his shirt up over his head. Now, I'm not gay or anything but even I have to admit he has a hot upper body.

He thrusts the shirt into my hands and told me to press it against the side of my face; where he had just cut. I did just as he said and while he went and washed the blade, ready for the other side of my face, I pulled away the shirt to see what had him so shocked. Blood. Red, oozing blood coming out the side of my face. I shoved the shirt back onto the wound as quick as I could. I didn't exactly enjoy the site of blood.

Batty came back with a clean blade and a shirt in his hand, probably to put on the other side of my face. Hood thinking! Unfortunately, my good spirits came to an end pretty damn quickly as Batty dug the blade into my other check before, once again dragging it down to the corner of my lip. And once he had pulled the blade out, he grabbed the shirt and forced it roughly onto the side of my face that he had just sliced, causing me to wince, and then telling me to hold it there while he cleaned the blade off again, destroying any evidence of what I had asked him to do. I decided to stand up so that I could climb into bed but I wasn't even able to turn around before I blacked out, hitting my head on Batty's concrete slab. I always knew that they were health hazards.

When I woke up, I assumed I was in the hospital wing. I'd seen others coming in and out of here because of injuries induced by Batty and so I knew what this place smelt like. I didn't have the strength to open my eyes. I was too tired.

"He's waking up." Said someone in the room. I didn't want to 'wake up' yet. I didn't want to see the damage or feel the pain from my face. But I couldn't stop my eyes from opening. It was like I had no control over the, what-so-ever.

"He's awake" yelled someone, like it was some sort of miracle. Then again, If I remembered the pain, blood and hitting my head on the concrete slab, I suppose it would be some kind of miracle.

I lifted my hands up to my face to feel the damage. I looked at the nurses and saw the alarm written all over their faces. I don't know why. Maybe, they thought I wouldn't be able to handle it. They obviously weren't aware of what I had seen and been through in my life before I came here. But as my hands reached the skin that Batty had cut there was no canyon. Only a mountain on my skin. What the hell had they done to me?

"Give me a mirror." I stated calmly. I could see their hesitation. I could tell why as well. If I was willing to do this to myself, or have Batty do it for me, then what would I do to them? They were terrified of me and I loved it!

"I said Give. Me. A. MIRROR!" I practically screamed at them before one of them ran off to get me a mirror. I may not be cool and collected one second and then and erupting volcano the next like Batty, But I was still pretty damn creepy if I do say so myself.

Someone small and wimpy skidded into the room holding a pocket mirror in her trembling hands. She looked around at her colleges who were nudging her forwards towards my bed.

Finally, her and her trembling hands made their way over to the bed. However, she only got about halfway before chickening out and freezing where she stood. I was getting fed up of all this waiting. All I asked for was a bloody mirror! Was it really that hard to do? But before I could 'blow my top', someone that I hadn't noticed before when I was scanning the room, sighed deeply before walking over to the trembling girl and snatching the mirror out of her grasp.

I watched as this magnificent woman sauntered over to me. She truly was magnificent! She had a certain power in her step and she looked like she was in charge and she took that to her full advantage, not worrying that someone would yell at her for doing somebody else' job. But it wasn't her power that captivated me first before I noticed the rest. It was her beauty. Long, flowing blonde hair that you wouldn't have thought belonged on her petit frame. But, boy did it look good alongside those deep, turquoise blue eyes! Her personality reminded me of someone but I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

She arrived at the side of my bed and shoved the mirror into my hands.

"Here is the mirror you wanted." She forcefully said. Now I knew who she reminded me of: Batty! I wonder if they know each other...

"Thanks Darling." I said softly, doing my best to accomplish something I hadn't tried in over twenty years: flirting.

"Don't you call me that!" She yelled while slapping me across the cheek. Obviously my skills were a bit rusty. I looked where everyone had been minutes before but they certainly weren't there now.

"The only one who can call me that is my boyfriend. And, believe me, you aren't him!" I knew I was trying my luck but I need to know. I don't know why. I just needed to.

"Who's this boyfriend of yours then?" I said, trying to make it sound casual when it obviously wasn't. She smirked at me, but softly, possibly dreaming about her boyfriend.

"Oh you know him. He's amazing all round, sexy, fit as a fiddle and, oh yeah, you tow share a cell!" Batty? Batty is her boyfriend? Why didn't he tell me? Maybe she was lying. But when I looked for her in my room, she wasn't anywhere to be seen.

'Time to look at my face' I thought. I held the mirror up to my face but with my eyes closed. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see what had become of my face. I wasn't sure what to expect. I mean, from the reactions of the nurses, it's probably quite gruesome. But, then again, that beauty managed to look me in the eye so why shouldn't I be able to? I asked Batty to do this for me and I should at least be able to look at my own reflection!

I was wrong! I shouldn't have looked at my face! I was a wimp, just like that trembling nurse! I'm pathetic! I'm a grown, 45 year old man and I fainted at the sight of my own face! A face that I wanted. Although, I have to admit that it's bloody disgusting now that they stitched it back together. My skin was stretched over the cuts, making the skin around the scars look old and wrinkled. You know what. That's what they're gonna call me now. "Scar face." It's worse than the "why so serious" jokes they used to pull from before. What the hell was I thinking? I can tell you what I am thinking. I'm thinking that Batty is one hell of a lucky man!

[1 week later]

Now that I had recovered enough to think straight, I was still moaning over the scars on my face and the new, refreshing jokes that they would bring with them, Batty casually walked into the place like he owned it. Although, then again, he kinda did. Nobody was going to tell him no so what was there to worry about?

"Hey man. How's it going?" I'd been wanting to talk to him since that sexy nurse told me she was with him. How the hell did he score that? I get that he's hot and all, I've heard it enough from the female nurses and even some of the guards, but everyone thinks he crazy to be honest. He says he's Bruce Wayne but why would Bruce Wayne be here in this hell hole when he could be 'playing' with a couple of leggy, beautiful models a night? It doesn't make any sense really. But who am I to say who's crazy or not? I asked somebody to cut deep into my skin so I couldn't be sane myself now could I?

"Fine. Been moaning in pain cause, man, the stitches hurt. But then again, it could be because every time I close my eyes to blink I see my face and it's causing my stomach oh so much pain." He laughed his deep, throaty laugh. Or chuckle really but it was the closest to a laugh I had heard from his body. Nothing like my giddy giggling. "And the usual of course. Staring up nurses' skirts and down their shirts when they bend over. Speaking of nurses, there is this really fit one with an attitude problem but boy is it sexy on her. I was thinking of asking her out once I'm out of here in 4 years, getting to know here better while in here first, maybe a bit of messing around in janitors closets, you know what I mean?" I was expecting him to say something crude but all he did was smirk and shake his head at me and my fantasises which lead me to believe that he had done what I was planning on doing. Oh well. I gave up on those fantasises a while ago. "Well I was, until she told me about a certain boyfriend of hers. Apparently he's, and I quote, "amazing all round, sexy and fit as a fiddle." And you wanna know what else she said? That he shares a cell with me! How could ya man?" At this he looks at me like I've grown another head before his mouth forms the shape of an "o."

"You mean Amanda?" He asks. I shrugged my shoulders at him as I never got her name. "Powerful, blonde long hair, petit body and turquoise blue eyes with pale skin?" I nod, that was her alright. So her name was Amanda. I could work with that. "Yeah, she's my girlfriend and I know what you're thinking man and I wouldn't. She'll have your balls mounted before you enter her house." Yikes!

"I leave her to you then." I really liked her too but keeping my balls is more important.

[2 weeks later]

I still can't believe that he had her of all people! But unfortunately, I was still lying in this hospital bed with nothing to do except watch new people come from Batty's beatings each day before they leave again, only to come back two days later with the same injuries from the same person. I hadn't seen much of said person and I'm guessing that it's because of the one-sided fights he's been getting into have landed him in the isolation unit: again! One day, people here are gonna get smart and permanently put him in the isolation unit, but I doubt that that day will come any time soon.

[2 days later]

I'm finally getting outta here! I've been here for little more than 3 weeks but anybody else that had come in here for stitches has only been here for a week; tops! So I'm not too sure why I've been here for so long. But it's been unbearable! However, now that I'm getting out of here, I could care less. Although, I have missed Batty and the normal-er food and I'm gonna miss it here. Rather, I'm gonna miss the nurses checking in on me every few hours. Oh, I can't wait to sleep on my concrete slab again instead of this comfy bed. Who wouldn't want that?

I walked into my cold cell, expecting to see Batty sitting on his slab as he always was when he wasn't trying to kill someone or in isolation for trying to kill someone, but he wasn't there. Nobody was. I considered the possibility that he was in isolation again, but nobody had come to the hospital wing injured since those 8 guys came in last week. So where was he?

I saw a guard walk past my cell so I asked him the question that has been burning at the back of my throat all day,

"Where's batty?" I didn't bother with the 'Hi'. The guards just blow you off anyway.

"Aww... Are you missing your boyfriend already scar face?" That was defiantly worse than the last joke. Maybe because this one was true; I am a scar face.

"Ha ha! No, I was just wondering where he was." Innocent enough but I knew that by tomorrow, Batty would officially be my boyfriend in the guard's minds. Guess they don't know about his hot girlfriend then.

"He got shipped out last week sometime. You happy now?" He asked as he stormed off down the long corridor, muttering under his breath about me. I nodded at his retreating figure before slumping down onto Batty's concrete slab in shock. He'd been shipped out! Why? Nobody had come into the infirmary since last week... unless that was him. But he'd done worse. So why ship him out now?

I just can't believe that he isn't here anymore. He was the only one keeping me even remotely sane. I collapsed back onto the concrete slab, seriously injuring my back as always. I was lying on something. I sat back up, but not before hitting my head on my concrete slab and yelping in pain.

It turned out it was a pack of cards. 'What the hell?' I thought to myself. I opened them up and tipped them out onto his slab, being careful not to lose any of them. They were all jokers! Somebody left a pack of complete jokers in my cell! Why? As I sifted through them, admiring each one, I noticed a black joker that appeared to have wings. In the corner it read;

See ya man!

Enjoy your smiling days!

Batty

Batty got me these? Why? What had I ever done to deserve a gift as unique as this one?

As I was carefully putting them all back into the packet, I looked at the bat joker carefully. There were no pen marks! He'd done this on a computer. I placed the cards next to me and as I fell asleep, all I could think was 'Thanks Batty.'

End Flashback

I had gotten that pack of cards out now. Half of them were gone and when I ran out I would always keep one with me; the bat joker. My most prized possession. All because somebody gave it to me, rather than me having to steal it.

I'd been thinking about my time at that prison. In total, I ended up there for about 5 years. I never heard from Batty again and I still haven't. Apparently, he broke up with Amanda just before he left so when I asked her where he'd gone, she didn't know. Which was a bummer. Then I remembered what Batty had said his real name was. If he was telling the truth, the he lives here in Gotham and was hosting a party in honour of Harvey Dent tonight at his pent house. Looks like it's time for me to pay you a visit, Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne's POV (As Batman)

As I watched over the city, standing on the top of Wayne Tower two hours before the big party for Harvey, I took out the cards that the Joker had been leaving at each murder and I recognised them. I'd given them to that guy in Tibet called...umm... Tyler! Wait! That means that I know who this guy is! I could have him arrested easy.

But as I looked down at the card in my hand, I realised that I couldn't do that to Tyler who only wanted someone to care enough to give him a gift, if I remember correctly. I couldn't do it to my best friend. I couldn't do it to the one guy that understands me. No matter what he does in Gotham, I will catch him as the Joker, not as my trouble cell mate from Tibet that was fed up of being asked "Why so serious?"