A\N~ Yeah, guys. I know it's terrible. xD But hey, I gotta shake the rust off somewhere. If you absolutely hate it, then how about leaving some constructive criticism, eh?

Bruce Wayne grimaced to himself, looking down at the unconscious bodies of three members of the newly formed "Ratz" gang. 'What a great time to come out of retirement,' he thought to himself sarcastically. Then again, if he didn't get control of this kind of thing, it could always blow completely out of proportion due to the lack of action on the Gotham City Police Department's side.

He glanced up at the moon, guaging its position in the velvet night sky. Almost time to head back home. To Selina. To the baby.

The baby. When Selina had come out of the bathroom, pregnancy test in hand, tears flowing freely from her eyes, Bruce knew it would be a hard decision to keep the baby or place it into foster care.

They had stayed up that night, laying in bed but unable to sleep. Finally, she posed the question,"What are we going to do, Bruce?"

He glanced at her. Eyes red-rimmed and fearful, hands clenching her stomach. He pulled her close to him, and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing softly.

"I don't know," he had said, caressing her hair softly,"I don't know."

With only two months before the due date, the decision had to be made. Put the child into foster care, and it would live without parents, much like himself. He despised this. On the other hand, if he fathered the child, it might not live at all. If word of his identity got out; if someone found him. He couldn't bare the thought.

The hero looked one last time at his surroundings, mind filled to the brim with possibilities for his unborn baby boy. He sighed deeply before preparing himself to leave the alley.

Bruce was about to ascend out of the makeshift battleground when he heard it. A lone step. Citizen? No, this step was aggressive. Gang member? No, too intentional for someone who was going to attack him. Maybe it's-

"Well, well, well...Look what we have here."

These words, spoken from behind the billionaire himself, sent chills down his spine. He didn't need to turn around to know whom they originated from. Bruce knew the voice all too well. Nevertheless, he hesitantly turned, facing the man who nearly drove him to the brink of insanity. The man who tested his willpower to abide by the very vows that shaped his lifestyle. The man who almost broke him.

When he saw the opposing man's face, his throat tightened, barely able to speak the next word.

"Joker."

Joker smiled, playfully throwing back his signature green hair.

"Happy to see me, I presume."

Bruce took a step toward the man, extending his arm and locking onto his throat like a vice.

"How did you get out?" he inquired hoarsely, slackening his grip on Joker's wind pipe just enough for him to emit a reply.

"Oh, Bats," he laughed, before coughing a little,"You really didn't think that with all the chaos that good Bane fellow caused. All the..." He stopped here to inhale deeply, eyes rolling back into his head with emulated ecstasy, before speaking out in a deadly, almost psychotic voice,"All the...destruction."

The Dark Knight thought back on the events a year prior. Bane. Miranda. The bomb. All the innocent people dead. The sacrifices made. The costs of it all.

Joker's thrashing brought him back to reality, and it was then he realized he had tightened his grip to the point that the villian's face had changed colours. He let go, and the man fell to his feet, gasping for air. After a few deep breaths, he laughed. That haunting, madenning laugh.

"A little tense, are we?" He laughed out, standing and rubbing his throat gingerly.

Without thinking, the Bat threw a full-force punch; it connected with Joker's face, sending him stumbling backwards into a trashcan on the side of the alley.

Bruce, quick to respond, pursued him. He lifted him off the ground by his collar.

Joker laughed. Again. Bruce couldn't stand that laugh. He slammed him into the wall to his right.

"What have you got planned?" he almost yelled. The Joker looked at him innocently, head tilted to one side. He licked his lips.

"Me?" he replied gently, touching his chest with mock modesty,"Nothing! Honest!"

Gotham's hero was willing to extract the information in any way possible. He showed this by driving an armored knee into his adversary's torso. Joker coughed at him, before smiling.

"It seems someone's gone a little soft. And I must say, you look absolutely awful!"

Bruce was ready to put in another knee, but Joker's next words caught him. Stopped his blood cold.

"It couldn't be that baby boy of yours, could it?" He asked menacingly. He saw through the Bat's poker face. "Oh-ho! I'm not as dumb as you look, Bat."

He laughed at Bruce's bewildered expression.

'How could he have known? Selina hasn't been out of the house in weeks. Could he have-?'

Then it hit him. He landed a fist square on Joker's painted jaw before screaming,"What have you done with her?"

The man simply threw his head back and laughed. No, this couldn't happen again. Another punch. Laughter. Another, and another. No response. He wasn't getting anywhere with this.

"Hey Bats, how's about you an' me make a deal?"

This caught Bruce's attention. He hesitated, staring intently at the man who he thought would be locked away forever.

"What kind of deal?"

Joker spit a tooth out of his scarred mouth,"If you would let me down, I'd be more than obliged to let you in on it, old pal."

Batman's patience was wearing thin, but he did as asked, slowly stepping back and letting go of the nightmare-come-true. He watched as Joker smoothed out his ratty purple suit.

"Now then," he said with a smile,"down to business."

There was a silence, in which he pulled another tooth from his gums, tossing it casually on the ground.

"Alright," he laughs,"You want your little girlfriend back, yes? Yes. Of course you do. You're really a good guy, Bat. Full of honesty and heroism." Mockery and sarcasm. It stung.

Joker glances at a watch on his wrist, probably stolen,"Ooh! Look at the time. I'd better get this show on the road. Okay, so here it is, old buddy old pal. You want your woman back, and I want something she has."

Bruce looks at him with pure loathing;

"I want something of hers, yes. But not something she soley owns, no, no. Something both of you own. Something both of you care about, even though you try to mask it with frail attempts of busying yourself with," he waved his hands at the still unconcious bodies of the gang,"whatever you call this."

Bruce's eyes went wide as it sunk in.

"That's right, kiddo."

The hero stared at him in dismay.

"I want the kid."