A/N: Obligatory for the first chapter.

This story takes place very shortly after the Dark Knight, and it assumes that Batman Begins, Gotham Knight, and The Dark Knight are all canon.

I

You won't kill me

As he came back up, the Batman's grappling hook attached to his shoe and grunting along the way, the Joker muttered: "You. You just couldn't let me go, could you?"

The Batman blinked once, then listened.

"This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You truly are incorruptible, aren't you? You won't kill me out of some…misplaced sense of righteousness, and I won't kill you because you're just too much fun." He smiled broadly, showing his terrible rictus, and again accentuating the scars along his face. "I think you and I are destined to do this forever."

"You'll be in a padded cell forever," the Batman growled.

The Joker laughed again, then said: "Maybe we can share one. They'll be doubling up, at the rate this city's inhabitants are losing their minds."

"This city just showed you that it's full of people willing to believe in good."

"Until their spirits break completely! Until they get a look at the real Harvey Dent and all the heroic things he's done. Then, Gotham will know the true face of heroism. You didn't think I would risk the battle for Gotham's soul in a fistfight with you?!" The Joker said incredulously. "When dealing with this city, you need an ace in the hole. Mine's Harvey."

The Batman stared, and his growl faltered: "What did you do?"

"I took Gotham's 'White Knight' and I…brought him down to our level. It wasn't hard. You see, madness, as you know, is like…gravity. All it takes is a little push." With that, he pushed himself, still hanging upside down, and laughed maniacally. The Batman stormed away as quickly as possible, just before a SWAT team arrived.

--

No explosion, she thought, thank god. She was sitting in front of an electronics store, watching the TVs in the window, praying and praying that there wouldn't be an explosion. Her aunt and her cousin were on that ferry. She had almost cried when it reached midnight and there still wasn't a boom. Then, nothing had happened. Nothing. Now she simply sat, wondering.

"I'm a man of my word," he had said. Was it just a bluff? Or was he waiting, building up suspense, giving them just one more chance to blow themselves up? She still waited. She heard the news anchors speaking but did not hear the words. Her mind was unconsciously scanning for key words.

Batman, SWAT team, ferry, passengers, explosion, dead; words she was listening for. Eventually, she looked up and saw a man hovering over her. At first she thought he was watching the TVs too, but quickly realized he was instead staring at her. When he saw her look up, he smiled cruelly.

Before she could respond, he grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her up, then put his other hand, a wet cloth in it, onto her mouth. She screamed, but quickly felt she didn't have the energy to continue. Her limbs felt weak, she felt light-headed. She glanced down at the cloth and realized suddenly what it was wet with.

"Shh," said the man, smiling still. "Go to sleep. It'll be alright." She tried to lift her arms to fight him off, but it didn't work. She looked around and saw the streets deserted, everyone hiding in their homes and afraid for their lives because of the Joker. She felt something pressed against her and realized that the man couldn't even bother to wait until he brought her home, and had slipped his hand up her shirt.

She didn't bother to fight it, she couldn't. She slumped against him, the exhaustion taking over every thought she permitted herself. Then, a flash, like a lightning bolt cast by a mad god. Something flew through the air and stabbed into the man's shoulder. His arm flew away and she gulped the air, trying to fight off the liquid's effects. The man fell back and she fell with him, not being able to hold her own body up.

She glanced at the man, from her position lying on the ground, and could see only the side of his face and his shoulder. In his shoulder was a sharp, thin piece of silvery metal. Blood was gushing from the wound, and she suddenly realized what it was shaped like: a bat.

Just as the man stood up to look around, she had to strength to lift her head up and do the same. The man looked left and right frantically, and fumbled in his waist band for a gun that he just couldn't seem to find. He never had a chance to find it. The Batman found it for him.

He was like a shadow. He swooped out from nowhere and engulfed him, his massive wing-like cloak completely enveloping the screaming man. There were two hard thwacks, then a black silhouette lifted the man up in the air by the shoulders, and threw him against the wall of the electronics store, thankfully not into the glass. The Batman rolled his shoulders, then turned to leave but stopped at her feeble cry of: "Batman…"

The Batman turned and saw the girl on the ground. He slid over and scooped her up, then propped her onto her feet. When she started to droop again, he reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small syringe. He pulled a needle out of the same pocket and hooked it on, then injected just a bit into her throat.

She felt life gushing into her body, her entire self re-energized. She glanced down and saw the man's gun, broken apart into pieces with the bullets missing then stared at The Batman. He nodded, then shot his grappling hook at the roof of the electronics store and was gone.

--

"Master Wayne," muttered Alfred, walking into his penthouse room. He was surprised to actually see that Bruce was asleep in his bed. The sheets and blankets were thrashed and thrown everywhere from fitful sleep, but he was in his bed for the first time in a long while. Most of the nights previous had been spent in the new "bat cave".

"Mr. Wayne, wake up," said Alfred, and the playboy stirred. "Gordon is giving his speech for Harvey. He hasn't mentioned Batman."

"He will," muttered Wayne.

"I am certain of this," said Alfred. "Nevertheless, you need to wake up. Even billionaire playboys can't sleep past three pm."

"Recycling your lines now, Alfred?"

Alfred said nothing, and simply walked to the curtains, throwing them open. Bruce nearly hissed and rolled away, shielding his eyes like a vampire.

"What if said playboy stayed up late into the night fighting villains, saving lives, and whatnot?"

"Three PM, master Bruce?" Said Alfred, smiling and looking at him. "I believe that fifteen or more hours is more than enough even for you."

"Not for Batman."

"I believe, Master Wayne, that you once said that 'Batman has no limits'."

"Twisting my words again," said Bruce, forcing himself up to a sitting position. There was a long lack of sound as Alfred walked shortly out of the room, grabbed a tray full of food, and brought into Wayne's room, setting it across his lap.

"What do you think they will do?"

"Who and to whom?" asked Alfred.

"Gotham, to Batman."

"Perhaps they will do exactly as Commissioner Gordon said they would."

"Hunt me?"

"And set the dogs on you, yes."

"Good," said Bruce.

"And what will Batman do about that?"

"He will do what he has always done."

"And he will, I assume, try not to get shot?"

"Yes," said Bruce, with a smile.

--

The night found The Batman upon the roof of a tall building overlooking the island that was now Arkham. It used to simply be an asylum, but after what had happened after Ra's al Ghul's stunt, it had become forsaken land, given over to the asylum.

"Alfred, can you hear me?"

"Unfortunately loudly, sir," came the British accent over his earpiece.

"Good," said The Batman. "So if I whisper, it'll still be loud and clear."

"Especially loud."

The Batman now simply watched as an armored car drove toward the bridge that connected Gotham with Arkham. After what the Joker had done before, there were now three armored cars and four police cruisers in a square around them.

"Alfred, I need sonar."

A blue interface appeared over the Batman's vision. What he saw before him was mostly a sea of black, since most of the sonar phones had been shut down after Lucius turned them off. Only a few had stayed online, and there were "conveniently" at least one in each armored car. The Batman could see within each armored car and found that the Joker was in the center one. Well protected, but obvious. If the Joker had planned anything, it wouldn't be difficult for them to figure out where he was.

So the Batman watched, leaping from building to building, the slow journey of the armored car to the bridge of Arkham. Once it reached the bridge, it drove over, then surrendered the armored car to the security guards that helped to keep Arkham quarantined. However, something went wrong.

"Master Wayne," muttered Alfred, clearly watching through the sonar. "What is happening?"

The Batman turned his sonar vision off and swung closer to get a better view, and then realized, with horror, that something was terribly wrong. The door to the armored car was left open and it was driving away faster than it should have, toward the center of the island. As the Batman drew ever closer, he spotted two bodies lying on the ground where the armored car switch took place.

"I'll tell you in a minute, Alfred," growled the Batman as he turned a dial on his cowl. His earpiece switched to a police scanner, and he heard a terrifying report: "All Points Bulletin: There has been a riot at Arkham Asylum. Calling all units…"

The Batman switched his earpiece back to Alfred and started running and leaping across rooftops, using all his acrobatic strength to keep himself moving lightning quick. He got to where he had left the batpod and hopped on.

"Alfred, prepare my utility belt," roared the Batman as he sped through back alleys, avoiding the main streets. There would be more than enough police swarming them, and he didn't want to be impeded by them. "There's been a breakout at Arkham."