His twisted grin released a crazed laugh as pale hands gripped the detonator. Hidden below the New Tri Gate bridge stood Gotham's most feared villain The cars and people above continued unknowingly of the disaster that would soon come. The clown looked back on his last attempt to play a joke on the suspecting city. The Batman had come before he could cause any real damage, but did that stop his fun? Of course not! No, not at all. The Batman was his favorite part of all his jokes. Their complex battles usually leaving at least one of them with a new scar. A keepsake. And now it was time for a new one. He had been cooped up in the loony bin known as Arkham for too long, though he could have escaped whenever he choose. His laughter died down to a fit of small giggles as he raised the small remote, fingering the first button and looking up at the suspended concrete. He licked his scars in anticipation then set it off.
Click. Click. Boom.
Instantly there was a shower of cinder and a cloud of smoke from the middle of the bridge. On coming cars slammed on their brakes as the bridge rattled. Cars that had been above the carefully placed explosives rose up only to smashed against the road on the opposing side.
The Joker groaned in disappointment. He had been hoping at least one car would have sailed over the edge. It would have been hilarious. But no matter, the madman laughed as he waited. Soon the Batman would arrive and the real fun would start.
.
The Dark Knight sat perched atop a central business complex, waiting as he watched over the dark cloaked streets. Gotham was quiet. Had been for awhile now, a few minor robberies and drug dealers, but nothing the GPD couldn't handle. Something was wrong. He knew the Joker was on the loose, escaped Arkham earlier in the week, but was no where to be heard of. He was planning something, Batman was sure of it. He had left all sort of pointless clues that would somehow lead to a massive sot of destruction.
Boom.
His instincts, unfortunately, were right.
He turned to the sight of smoke rising from the Trigate bridge and headed for the batmobile. He dashed through the late night streets, approaching the falling rubble to hear an unmistakable laugh. He drove as far as he could before stepping out and walking towards the source of the sound, stopping when he found it.
The Joker's laughter died as he saw him. "Ah! Here's everyone's favorite bat! Well, mine anyway." He chuckled. The Batman was unmoved. "What's wrong Batsy? Didn't you miss me?" He laid his hands and the detonator over his heart and smiled warmly before going into another fit of laughter.
"You're going back to Arkham, Joker." Batman responded plainly.
The Joker's laughter stopped as he pretended to be hurt. "Aw, but where's the fun in that? It getting awfully boring making fun of penguins and 'Alice in Wonderland' characters. I'd much rather cause mayhem with you." He grinned.
"Drop the detonator."
"Oo, testy." The Joker chuckled. "But as well know I don't take orders. Besides, you don't know what it does. It's innocent. " He held out the small device causally Batman narrowed his eyes.
It was true. The device had two buttons. One, he was sure, had blown up half the bridge. The other could be far worse. It could be able to kill more than the Joker already had. If anything to the bat, it was the opposite of innocence.
Batman locked a glare on the grinning clown that, to anyone else, would have bent steel. "We've been here before. You wanted me, here I am."
The Joker stopped chuckling and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess you're right. " He raised the armed device, pushed the button and threw it at the Batman's feet. It shattered and poofed into several clouds of colored smoke. The Joker's laughter was cut short by the sound of close approaching sirens filling the air. He groaned. They were always killing the best part. They were the real murders of his fun, and he didn't have time nor desire to deal with them today. He fled through the thick color, wanting to get as far out of their reach as possible. He was disappointed, but he chuckled. He had a plan to see the Batman again soon enough.
Batman coughed once. twice. And ran out of the smoke, eyes darting left and right to try to catch a glimpse of the purple suit or wavy green hair, but the clown prince of crime had vanished. He growled as he returned to the batmobile, knowing the police would to clear and close off the bridge. Irritated, he drove to his manor. After being safely inside the haven, he removed his mask and his armor, setting it away before laying down for the rest of the night. His thoughts were clouded of the manic who escaped. The Joker had gotten away. Gotten away after halfway destroying the New Trigate bridge and injuring a vast number of people. Next time, Batman promised, he wouldn't.
.
The Joker laughed in the safety of his new hiding place. An old distribution company, abandoned years back in the lower regions of Gotham. Several creatures and bugs infested and whittled away at the walls, stripping it of it's peeling paint and rusted features, but that just seemed to make it fit more with his, crooked personality. His laughter bounced and echoed off the silence as he recalled the day's event. It had gone well enough, he supposed, he had gotten away clean. However, he didn't get his wish to fight the Batman before the GPD showed up and ruined everything, not that he had a plan anyway but still. But no matter, he was already setting up his next joke: Paying a visit to Mr. Bruce Wayne.
The idea made his head spin in excitement and joy. Oh yes, he knew who the Batman was, but he would never tell. That wouldn't be any fun! No, instead he worked away on his plan, writing down every crucial detail as he grew giddier and giddier.
"Joker."
His laughter stopped as he turned. Emerging from the shadows of the machinery was a man with a big bow tie, white, dirty finger less gloves, and a large top hat. "Hatter?" The Joker chucked "What are you doing here? Did you lose your rabbit again?" He laughed as he turned back to his plan.
The Hatter chuckled slightly. "No, my head actually."
The Joker readied himself for another crack and turned back to see two bright lights beaming from the top of the character's hat. Everything faded to black.
.
When he woke, he felt rope tight against his wrists and torso. He lifted his head, he had been leaning against the wall behind him, wooded and rotting as much as the floor beneath him, he was no longer in his place. He opened his eyes painfully, the front of his head throbbing and his vision blurred. He blinked few times, and the sight becoming clear both amused and irritated him. The Mad Hatter was sitting at a small decorative table, sitting in a little chair that was odd and clearly not his size, and sipping tea from a small set of fancy china. To the Joker, normally, the idea of him, the most wanted in the city, being kidnapped by another wanted villain, would have made him laugh. But now, being bagged and dragged, it wasn't as funny.
"You're finally awake?" The Hatter questioned in annoyance as he sipped from his cup.
The Joker chuckled. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was late for tea." He began laughing at his joke.
The Hatter stood and made his way over to him, smiling and chuckling. "Oh, that's a good one. Here's another." Within a single moment he outstretched his leg and landed a swift kick across the Joker's face, knocking him over but fully stopping his laughter. The Joker licked his yellowed teeth and spat a shot of blood onto the floor as he glared up at the Hatter. "Just making sure the bindings work." He waved and returned to his drink. "You'll be here awhile so might as well be comfortable." He chuckled again.
"Why is that? Enjoy my company?" The Joker hissed his questions.
"No," The Hatter poured himself another cup. "I need you to stay out of the way as I rebuild the city." He dropped a couple lumps of sugars into the dark liquid.
"Rebuilding? Creating Wonderland and making Gotham's people all your little play things?" The Joker smirked as he tried to sit himself up off the floor, being fairly difficult with his hands behind him.
"Yes actually." The Hatter replied as he absently stirred his tea. "I intend to create the perfect city, the land of wonder and imagination, the-"
He was interrupted as the Joker threw his head back and laughed. "Hatter!" He said between breaths. "Back at Arkham you mush have fallen off your rocker and down a rabbit hole!" He laughed louder at the thought.
The Hatter slammed down his cup and returned to the Joker, forcing his shoe against his chest and causing the uproar to be silenced, repeativitly stabbing him with his heal as a reminder to stay quiet. The Joker coughed as more blood ran from the side of his mouth. He felt the same hot liquid staining his torso, cuts and possibly new scars. The Hatter stopped his rampage after a few moments, madness and pure hatred burning in his eyes. He leaned in close to the Joker's face.
"This city will be mine." He whispered "It will be a perfect Wonderland. I can't have you blowing all of it up. In fact, there is no Joker in this story." He grinned and placed his arms behind his back, striding back to his table.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" The Joker spat. The Hatter glanced at him. "I don't think the Batman is a fan of fantasy stories, or any story really. He never lets me tell mine."
The Hatter laughed lowly. "Of course not. But all in good time." He took a final long sip of his tea and stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish the work you started." He pulled out a small syringe filled with a transparent substance "That now blasted bridge is in my way of paradise." He pushed some of the unknown out of the needle then confronted the Joker once more.
"Whoa," The Joker pulled away the best he could, if only slightly. The Hatter grabbed him, janking up the sleeve on his left arm, and shoved the pin point in to the clown, draining it of it's fluid. "Are you mad!?" The Joker flinched as the Hatter pulled away. Suddenly he felt tired, the room started spinning, yet it felt all too familiar.
"Behave while I'm gone." The Hatter chuckled as he tossed the needle aside on the table then heading for the door.
"Hey!" The Joker called, an amused curve hitting his lips as his eyes began to shut. The Hatter stopped and looked over his shoulder unconcerningly. "Be careful. Not all bats sleep at night."
.
The sun had just barley began to rise when Bruce Wayne awoke. He stretched and stood as there was a knock on his door.
"Good morning Mister Wayne." Alfred, his beloved butler greeted him as he opened the door.
"Morning Alfred." Bruce replied, a slight chill coming from his words, his expression no better.
"Late night sir?" Alfred asked as he pulled out a list of the day's events and passed it to him.
"Joker." Bruce answered reading over the list starting the preparations.
"Do not let it get to you sir," The older man assured. "soon he will be shipped back off to Arkham where he belongs."
Bruce threw him a bitter glance. "Alfred, he needs help. Recovery. No one belongs there." That is what he strongly believed.
Years of working for the man, the butler knew that look was deadly and he was serious. "My apologizes."
Boom.
A far off sound rumbled through the house. Bruce instantly ran to the window. Again smoke rose from the Tri Gate bridge, or at least what had been.
"Alfred, cancel my meetings." He said as he went to change into his alter identity.
Alfred was by the phone, dialing the memorized numbers. "Already done, sir."
.
Batman drove through the city streets, coming closer to the bridge as by standers stood and gasped at the sight. The New Tri Gate bridge was now nothing more than a pile of concrete fragments of all shapes and sizes. Luckily, after the Joker, the bridge had been closed, so one was on it when the explosive went off.
Once hidden under the remains, the Batman stepped out of the dark vehicle and looked around. He was alone. The shattered detonator still laid on the ground, orange strips of torn safety tape were scattered along the debris. The bridge was gone, but it wasn't the work of the Joker. Batman knew. The Joker would have laughed at the sight and waited for him to arrive. This was the work of someone else. There was only one problem. Who?
.
The Mad Hatter hummed as he opened the door to the room of the broken Joker, laying still where he was left like a forgotten toy. He smiled and walked over to his table, pulling out a small pad of paper and an old style fountain pen. A hour or two passed of writing when he heard the Joker finally groan. He winced in pain and opened his eyes.
The Hatter smiled as he wrote his work. "Good morning." He chuckled.
"Well it would have been better had I known about it first." The Joker started gruffly. "So," He cleared his throat. "How'd it go?"
"Excellent really," The Hatter smiled. "It went off without a hitch. And I left before your bat friend could arrive."
The Joker chuckled. The thought of himself and the Batman as friends rather than mortal enemies in a never ending cycle of crime and justice was hilarious. "Don't worry. He'll drag us back to the Asylum in no time."
The Hatter closed the small book and stuffed it into his coat. "That's where you're wrong, I'm afraid." He turned to the Joker. "I intend to kill Batman, and re-" He was once again silenced by the deafening laughter.
"Kill the Batman!" The Joker exclaimed in between. He remembered when he had once said the same thing. It was too funny. "No one can kill Bats!"
The Hatter fed up returned to violence, brutally bashing the clown as he continued to laugh. He didn't stop. The sound wore against his battered body only to become small giggles as hair slipped from the Mad Hatter's top hat. "You can't kill Batman because you're too busy laughing at him!"
"I've never tried, but I know he'll live." The Joker grinned. "He always does. It wouldn't be fun without him around! Not to mention, I believe I have more experience with destruction than you. How could you get him better than I?"
"I have a way of finding the Batman." The Hatter affirmed.
"Really?" The Joker asked sarcastically. "And, what would that be?"
And eerie smile spread over the Hatter's lips. "Kidnap someone who knows his true identity." The Joker raised a bruised eyebrow. "Bruce Wayne."
At that the Joker bursted, the Hatter truly was a card!
"Shut up!" The Hatter yelled and threw the Joker against the wall. "Bruce Wayne knows something about Batman!" He stomped across the room and swung open the door, glaring back at his captive. "I have work to do. Mark my words; Bruce Wayne knows."
Well duh The Joker thought. Of course he knows the Batman. Everything there is to know! He giggled smally as the hatted man exited out the door, leaving him to himself. "Good luck."
.
A little over a week had pasted, Gotham's streets staying quiet. The Hatter continued to plan out his work to fix up the city, occasionally visiting the captured Joker to insert more of the mysterious serum into his body whenever he left to set up his soon coming remodel. Whenever he was seen, the Joker tried to laugh about the Mad Hatter's plans, continuing the humorous thought on his perspective of Bruce Wayne. These trips often ended in a mercilious attack on the currently helpless Joker. By now his body was about worn. There was little about him that seemed like the Joker. His suit ripped and dirty, make up smeared and blood new and dried staining his body. He simply remained himself by his attitude, now starting to wonder what would come next.
Bruce Wayne was wondering too. He paced back and forth across the balcony at Wayne tower, glancing over the the night cloaked city. Where? He thought as he racked his mind for an answer.
"If I may ask," Alfred caught his attention as he stood in the doorway, how long he had been there was unknown. "What is the matter sir?"
"Something's wrong." Bruce replied as he continued to either side of the ledge.
"But sir, the city has been quiet since the Joker blew up the New Tri Gate bridge."
"Exactly." He stopped his stride and laid his hands on the railing, looking out onto the sleeping city. "But Joker only blew up the center. Someone else finshed it."
Where is he? All was silent. Not a single siren blared. But why? Where's the Joker? And who blew up the bridge? Scarecrow? No, he's back at Arkham. Not his style. And so is-
Boom.
He turned to the noise. The clock tower jolted, smoke rising from the base as it tilted, but didn't fall. Bruce repeated his actions, dressing in his signature suit and pursuing the crime.
.
Working hastily beneath the tradgety was the Mad Hatter, rearming and equipping more explosives to the base. It would seem his plan overlooked a small detail: He was the villain expert on hypnotism and hats; not destruction. Although he had been able to successfully wire the C4 to a detonator, he hadn't set the correct amount needed to crumble the mighty structure. Unlike the bridge, this one was completely unharmed and steady, it would take much more power to knock over. Now the Hatter was scrambling, placing random amounts of the dangerous substance around the base to try again. He knew the Batman would come soon, but he wasn't ready.
"Hatter."
The distinct voice made him stop in his tracks to turn, whipping away the look of uncertainty and replacing it with vague confidence. "Hello Batman, what brings you here?" He asked as he slid one hand into his pocket.
Batman narrowed his eyes, being careful to avoid the sight of his hat. Of all criminals, he had not been expecting the Mad Hatter, though it explained the state of the clock. "Explain yourself Hatter."
"Of course, of course." The Hatter nodded as he pulled a small metallic disguise from his jacket. Batman saw his movement and looked up slightly. "I'd be happy to." The Hatter dropped the cylindrical grenade and of grey fog appeared.
Smoke? Batman coughed as he tried to follow the Hatter out of the cloud. That's the Joker's trick.
The Hatter fled quickly, dropping the metallic device and leaving behind the carnage producers of his plot. He ran through the dark allied streets and stayed silent, he needed the Batman off his trail, at lease long enough to prepare.
Batman turned from the fog and scanned the ground, listening closely. The Hatter's footsteps began to fade, he was no where in sight. But now, he wasn't needed. Batman picked up the detonator, still armed and ready, but no attached explosives. It was digital beeping every few moments, and hand made. A custom device. His smoking gun. He left the remaining items where they lay, the GPD would take them when they arrived. The Dark Knight headed for the Batcave, inside he could attach the device to his computer and find out where the Hatter was.
.
The Mad Hatter moved quickly inside his hideout, giggling smally, and happy with his escape. He had left the Batman cold, if only in his thoughts. Completely baffled. But now he knew he has the Joker. He used his 'Jokes'. Oh well. He unlocked the small room that held his captive and walked inside. The Joker was still asleep. He chuckled. Arkham's Fentanyl really did the trick.
After a day of playing victim, the Joker attempted to slip from his binds and escape. He was left only to himself, the Hatter must have slipped all his tricks when he was first kidnapped. He had a plan however, and maneuvered quickly to free himself. Unfortunate for him, the Hatter hadn't left the small building they were hidden in, but only in the next room, and unknown to him, the Hatter was ready. He had expected as much. The Joker was the king of escaping Arkham. A small shed on the west outskirts of the city wouldn't be much of a challenge. That's why when he left, he was sure to swipe a few viles of the drug.
He sighed as he sat in his chair, if he was lucky, his tea would still be hot. He picked up the decorative pot and inhaled with a smile, pouring some of the warm delight into his cup. He dropped in a few cubes of sugar and stirred them in with a silver spoon. Taking a sip he couldn't have been happier.
.
Batman sat infront of the computer, the failed detonator deconstructed and set neatly next to it. Chips and wires attached to different parts of the electronic device. The computer before him carefully calculating where it had come from. His eyes ran over the screen continuously, watching as it analyzed every piece.
Click Click
A printer inked out a lengthy sheet of data, several types of localization links, levels, and estimations listed. It took the Dark Knight only a moment to determine where it had been made. Where the Mad Hatter hopefully was hidden. He was ready.
.
The Hatter sipped down the last of his tea and stood. He had to create a new detonator and finish off the clock tower. And possibly recalculate his explosive quantities... Oh well. He turned to the Joker, still sound asleep. Perfect. He bowed out of the smaller half of the room and into the larger part of the shack.
The bigger room was filled with odds and ends, several spare parts scattered around various notes and plans. Messy papers covered in scribbled ideas and crossed out details, most involving the renovation of the city.
The Hatter sat at a surprisingly normal desk and began to write. As he sketched out a new plan he giggled madly to himself, ignorant to any sounds outside his mind.
Click.
From the shadows the Dark Knight slipped into the room.
"Hatter."
The said man jumped up from his seat and smiled, nerves trembling at the sight. "Ah, Batman." He straightened up his papers and turned away from him, searching his pockets for a vile. "So nice of you to visit me."
The Batman walked carefully around the room, approaching the Hatter slowly. "Where's your partner?" He asked.
"Partner?" The Hatter looked up, unable to find anything but another smoke grenade, and faced him. "What partner?" His eyes scanned the room for another device. Nothing. He had only one conceivable weapon. It was in the other room.
"Joker." Batman stated plainly, lowering his eyes as the hat came into play.
The Hatter threw his head back and laughed. "The Joker? Oh no, that madman isn't my partner." He stepped backwards towards the door and placed his fingers on the handle "But if you'd like to see him, he's right here." He smiled and opened the door, allowing Batman a full view. His eyes went wide as he took in the sight.
The Joker moaned thinly in pain, his eyes twitching as he began to wake. His makeup mask was all but gone, the traces of his scars amplified by the dark blood that stained over it. His hair was matted in sweat and dirt, ruby colored strands hung in the front of his face. His jacket was torn at the seems, one of the sleeves rolled up to reveal recognizable spots where a needle had been forced. His shirt was stuck against his skin, several stains of the red liquid lining cuts.
The clown painfully opened his eyes and blinked repetitively, clearing his vision, then making sure he wasn't delusional. "Batsy?" He asked, grinning weakly. This truly was a surprise. The Batman was here. This could be fun.
Batman turned to the Hatter, searching frantically through the room. "You torchered him." He asserted, there was no question in it.
The Hatter shrugged as he worked. "All with good reason."
Oo, that wasn't smart. The Joker chuckled mentally.
Batman glared at the Hatter. "No one deserves this."
"Hey Bats," The Joker caught both of their attentions. "If you'd be a doll and me out of these I'll gladly help you beat this character into his hat."
The Hatter chuckled at the glares he was receiving finding his key item. "I don't think so." In a quick second he turned, aiming a 357 magnum revolver straight at the caped foe, and fired it, missing by a foot.
Batman moved at the shot ran towards him as the Hatter cocked the gun for another shot. He pulled the loaded trigger and again missed. He dropped the gun and moved just out of the Batman's reach, driving his hand into his pocket for the grenade of unknown sorts and set it off. He threw it to the ground as Batman's fist came plowing into his jaw, knocking him to the floor. Batman moved quickly to the Joker to release his binds, needing the ropes to restrain the Hatter. His belt lacked a pair of handcuffs, to his misfortune.
As soon as he could move, the Joker used surprising strength to kick Batman to the side, falling over as the Hatter stood, knocking them both from his sight. The Joker moved quickly to the other side of the room, rummaging through the items that the Hatter had collected from him. He knew the grenade that he had pulled was harmless, only a mere scare. He wanted something better. Batman stood and stepped carefully, unable to see clearly in the fog, he watched closely for the shape of a top hat while scanning the floor for his gun. The Hatter growled seeing the Joker missing and instantly dropped back on his knees, sweeping his hands across the molded flooring for his only weapon. The Joker grinned happily at his findings and stepped quietly towards the Hatter. After all, it was his smoke, he knew how to find people in it. The Batman too moved in when he noticed Hatter bumbling along the floor, readying his ropes.
"Hey Hatter," The Hatter turned to a frighteningly scarred smile as an object was forced into his surprised, gaping mouth. "Give my best to the Red Queen." The Joker laughed as he pulled the pin and laughing gas filled the Hatter to the brim.
The Batman used his distraction and instantly grabbed the coughing and chuckling Hatter, holding his breath as he bound him best he could in the fast filling smoke and forced him out the door, exiting the small room. He dragged the now manically laughing villain outside and was about to take him to Arkham when he noticed something. The Joker hadn't followed him out. He waited a moment, making sure he wasn't just behind. No luck. He pushed the Mad Hatter to the ground and bolted back inside the smoking building. He held his breath and covered his mouth, he'd be no better than the Hatter if it got to him. His eyes scanned through the room, soon finding the Joker laying on the floor in the center of the room. He immediately rushed to his side, lifting the lighter and fallen criminal as if it was nothing.
"What are you doing Bats?" The Joker asked both surprised and amused, unaffected by the smoke.
The Batman didn't respond, instead he ran out the door once more. He set the Joker in passenger side of the batmobile and went to retrieve the Hatter, in his place was nothing but scattered dirt and a fallen grenade cartage Batman looked for him for a moment, but his instinct decided the Joker needed help. He returned to the black super car and climbed behind the wheel, pulling away from the small hideout the Hatter had left.
"What did Hatter do to you?" He turned to the clown beside him.
The Joker blinked hazily, not wanting to respond. He was beaten and tired.
"What did he do Joker?" The Batman tired again, wanting to know what had been used on the Joker's body, especially on his arm.
"...Later..." the Joker responded, almost inaudibly as he drifted into his first wanted sleep of the week. The Batman didn't bother him any further.
The Joker had been hit hard. Sure, he had gone round and round with the Batman several times before, but this time was far different. Far worse. He had been abused, beaten, and drugged. Torchered for fun. The Batman could ask for all the details later. Now, what the Joker needed was rest and healing, and Batman would be the first to deliver as he made his way to the batcave.
.
Batman laid the Joker down on a metal table near his computer he had asked Alfred to set before hand, it stands for itself his reaction when he learned who the patient was. Batman pulled off the Joker's jacket, vest, and shirt, revealing the unseen damage that was made.
The Joker had several noticeable bruises forming either under his old scars or surrounding a new one entirely. A couple gashes stood out a deep red color against his pale features while the black, days old blood began to dust. Pushing back his hair, Batman found the wound on his scalp. The bleeding on it had luckily long been stopped, but he was sure it'd leave a scar.
His scars. The Batman could identify everyone he had made, and tell the story of each. Each the Joker had earned during a ferocious battle, fighting to prevent them. Each one a mark of a deep cutting pain. He could describe every detail of every fight, and so could the Joker.
Suddenly Batman was filled with a deep sense of remorse for what he had done. At the time given, it had seemed he had made those permanent marks on the most feared villain in Gotham, but now, as the clown prince of crime slept in agony, laying on his table helpless and broken, Batman realized something as he hadn't before: The Joker is still human.
"Alfred," He turned to the waiting butler. "Bring me a bucket of warm water and a cloth."
The older male complied and went to fulfill his 'orders'.
Batman returned his eyes to the Joker before him, resting them on his arm. It was easily recognizable the Hatter had forced something into his body, the needle work was slopping, and, the Batman guessed, painful.
When Alfred returned with the items asked for, Batman thanked him and sent him up to the manor, it could be troubling if he was could be seen when the Joker wakes. He dipped the white cloth into the water and soaked it, ringing out the excess before bringing it to the Joker's body and gently washing away the blood. Blood. Another thing that made him human. Carefully he moved over the new and existing scars, dipping it back into the bucket when needed and turning the remaining water a pale red. Next he moved to the face, wiping away the last bit of the signature makeup and showing the recognizable scars. The scars that made him the Joker.
Joker.
Batman.
Joker.
Bruce Wayne. Does the Joker have a name?
"Bats,"
Batman looked, the Joker's eyes were opened slightly, their normal vivid color dulled. The kind of eyes he had never seen during their battles.
"Why are you helping me?" The Joker's eyebrows furrowed in confusion against the stained cloth, disappointed when the cool material was taken away as the Batman dropped it into the bucket.
"It's my job." Batman responded plainly as he stood.
At this the Joker chuckled, making it obvious to the Batman how badly his ribs had been set in the past. "I thought you only helped the innocent little civilians."
Batman moved the water aside and moved to his desk, picking up a small syringe he had laid out. "I help anyone who needs it." He returned to the Joker's side. "Let me see your arm." The clown rolled over his clean arm, allowing for a clearly visible vein for the Batman to draw blood. "When was the last time the Hatter drugged you?" Batman eased the needle carefully into the Joker's arm, retracting just enough of the red liquid he needed to find out what combination of chemicals were floating around inside it.
The Joker racked his mind for an answer. "Yesterday? Early this morning? It's hard to tell after he's done it more times than Arkham. Why?"
Batman removed the needle and placed a ball of cotton on the clown's arm before standing. He moved to his computer and dropped a small amount of the Jokers blood onto a slide and pushed it into the device as he started typing. "I need to know what the Hatter used on you and if it will interfere with the antibiotic medication I want to give you." The computer shifted through the crimson and printed a short paper to provide the information.
"Wow Batsy, you should be a doctor." The Joker chuckled as he sat up, now able to do so.
Batman filled another needle with a clear liquid from a small glass bottle and returned to the Joker once more to administer it. "Who says I'm not?" He asked in blank thought.
"Everyone knows Bruce Wayne is a care-free billionaire, not a doctor." The Joker laughed softly as the Batman gave him the medicine.
Batman continued normally, trying to lure away the thought. "Bruce Wayne?" He question.
"Come on Brucey I know it's you. Who else could afford the toys you have?" The Joker grinned as the Batman finished his shot and returned to his desk to clean up. "Don't worry, I wont tell. It'd kill all the fun! No, It's our little secret."
The Batman turned to the sickled clown, he chuckled softly, but looked serious enough. "Does Hatter know?"
At that the Joker let out a full laugh, the medication bringing him to life. "That was the best part of my stay Bats! He was planning to kidnap Bruce Wayne and get him to tell where the Batman was."
Batman mentally sighed in relief, though short lived it may be. The Hatter thinks Bruce Wayne knows where the Batman is. He can't learn more than that. "How long were you there?" He asked, redirecting his attention to the problem at hand.
"I don't know," The Joker's laughter faded. "Since the day I blew up the Trigate. Long enough to bore me into making jokes unrelated to his girlfriend Alice."
"Did he have any other plans?" The Batman asked.
"Batsy he's completely off his rocker!" The Joker exclaimed. "He kept talking about destroying Gotham to build Wonderland! You should have seen it." He laughed again at the thought.
The Batman thought for a moment. "Then why did he kidnap you?" He asked, trying to fit the final pieces together.
The Joker's laughter continued for a moment before he responded. "He said I needed to stay out of the way as he rebuilt the city. After he finished he was going to celebrate by killing me and you, which in a sense if funnier than the plan to build 'Wonderland'." He motioned a rainbow with jazz hands.
Batman nodded and went over to the phone, punching in the number for house above. "Alfred, prepare a room." He placed the phone back into it's receiver.
The Joker looked to him curiously. "What for?"
"You're still injured." The Batman explained as he approached. "You need to be watched over the next couple of days, and I haven't determined the amount of antibiotic doses you will need. The easiest way is for you to stay here."
The Joker almost objected, but he was still tired, and still in some pain. Not to mention any cozy bed in the home of the billionaire Bruce Wayne would be much better than anywhere he could find. Agreeing, the Joker tried to stand. Weak still from laying down all week, his legs gave the moment he did, the Batman catching him before he could make contact with the floor. In a moment he was able to stand straight, walking as they made their way to the stairs.
Once in his room, the Joker changed into the pair of pajamas that laid folded for him on the bed. They were purple in color, suiting him nicely, and much more comfortable than the ripped, dirt covered clothes he had tossed onto the vanity. He laid onto the bed and rested under the silk sheets, asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
.
The next morning, Bruce Wayne woke early, gotten ready, and was about to leave for Wayne Enterprises, being interrupted with good concern.
"Sir, are you sure about this?" Alfred asked as he worked, he had already been nervous when the master had let his own nemesis into the batcave, now he was in his home. He trusted Bruce Wayne's decisions, just not the Joker. "You're letting Gotham's most feared villain enter your very home and your strutting about without the identity of Batman to cover for it."
"For the last time, yes, Alfred." Bruce answered for the third time that morning, slipping on his coat. "I only have two meetings this morning. I'll be back soon."
"I'm nervous for you." The butler admitted. "This is the Joker we are talking about. If he finds out that Batman is-"
"Bruce Wayne?" A voice caught the olderman's fear and the attention of Bruce himself. "Don't flatter yourself Alfy I know." The Joker grinned at the bottom of the stairs, it was anyone's guess how long he had been there. He was still in sleeping clothes, his hair messier than usual.
The englishman stared in surprise for a moment then looked to Bruce in search of an answer, only to find the sneaky bat had already left. His eyes caught back on the Joker, the clown staring back at him for a moment before asking simply, "Do you have a deck of cards?"
.
A few hours later in the batcave, Bruce sat infront of his computer, analyzing anything he could to find the Hatter. The Joker sat on the opposite side of the cave, his legs crossed on the damp floor, cards sprawled out infront of him as he attempted to play Solitaire. He groaned as he threw the cards down, aggravatingly losing for the twenty-sixth time that day. He hadn't been able to win once and was not contemplation setting the deck on fire.
He stood and walked over to bat and and looked to the computer's screen. "What are you doing?" He asked, leaning in closer as he studied the information.
"Looking for clues." Bruce answered as he typed.
"Clues?" The Joker looked to him.
"To track down the Hatter." Bruce replied as he opened a new file of data and filling his screen.
The Joker chuckled to himself, causing Bruce to look to him curiously and raise and eyebrow. "You don't need to track him." Bruce continued his puzzled look and the Joker rolled his eyes. "Pull up a map of Gotham." Bruce followed his request, punching in a couple of buttons causing a bird's eye view of the city to appear. "He's right... here." The Joker pointed to a small string of abandoned buildings on the north-east edge of the city. "He told me in Arkham, a few times back. A spare hideout for when you find him."
Bruce zoomed in on the small buildings, each a single level, varying in size. A decent hideout. "Are you sure?" He turned.
The Joker looked more serious than before. "Believe me, I want him back at Arkham, getting pushpins shoved in his arms and locking him back in a cage more than you do. Why would I lie?"
Bruce looked back to the screen and nodded. Now all they needed was a plan to catch him. He lowered the map and stood, looking past the Joker and noticing his failed game. "Where did you get those?" He pointed the the red cards scattered aimlessly.
The Joker turned and remembered his frustration. "Oh. Alfy let me use them for Solitaire." He almost mentioned his plan to burn them, but that didn't seem like a good idea.
Bruce Wayne couldn't help the small, rare smile that spread over his face as he chuckled.
"What's so funny?" The Joker asked in confusion. He had never seen the Bat smile, let alone laugh.
Bruce turned from him, walking towards the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder. "That deck is missing the two of hearts."
.
A couple days pasted, the Batman and the Joker planning the capture of the Hatter. A few variables were left untouched, giving the mission the ability to become more complicated. But between the two of them, there would always be an answer.
Alfred became slightly more relaxed the longer the Joker stayed, proving that Bruce was right to both heal him and trust him enough to help catch the Mad Hatter. He had spoken to, even lived down the hall from the him. Who better for the job?
Bruce continued working and spending money during the day as usual, leaving no room for suspension. The first day he returned with a new deck of cards for the Joker to keep him occupied while he was busy. Alfred thanked him. The Joker spent most of the next two days playing Solitaire and trying to get the English butler to join him, not begging, but being very persistent.
Alfred was relieved when the phone rang, interrupting the Joker's third attempt that morning. "Wayne Residence." He answered as he picked up the call. The voice on the other end rambled for about a minute, Alfred's changing expression catching the Joker's attention. "Yes, yes, thank you." The older man responded and placed the phone back into the receiver.
"What's wrong Alfy?" The clown asked curiously, following the butler as he moved towards the batcave.
"It seems master Wayne has been taken from his place of work." He answered as he sat down at the computer and hastily started typing. The Joker instantly went into another room, gathering a few items and pushing them into the batmobile, and moving into the driver's seat. Alfred saw him and confronted him. "What do you think you are doing?"
The Joker sighed. There is no way he'd get consent to do was he was about to. "Alfy old boy, I hope you can forgive me for this." In a swift moment the clown kicked his leg out of the open car door, knocking the surprised butler off his feet. He slammed the vehicle shut and turned on the ignition As the engine roared to life the Joker was off.
He drove several blocks, pushing the car's speed limit to it's max, and enjoying it very much, until he arrived at his first location. He stepped out of the machine and ran inside, slowing when he entered. Inside he flipped a single switch, lighting up the large room. He only needed a couple things, but he would need to hurry.
.
Bruce groggily opened his eyes from a sleep he never meant to have. He was sitting in a chair, arms behind his back, and feeling of rope digging into his wrists and torso. Fantastic. He thought, not one to use sarcasm often. It was point blank who had bound him. A rusted door infront of him opened with a loud screech, walking in was the man of his knowing.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne." Hatter smiled politely.
"The Mad Hatter!" Bruce exclaimed. Damn. We were too late. He drew back in his seat, a look of confusion taking it's place for the act. "What do you want with me?"
"With you?" The Hatter laughed. "That'd be nothing. But tell me, Mr. Wayne," His words rolled slickly off his tongue. "Who is Batman?"
"Batman?" Bruce stuttered, pulling on the ropes behind him. "I don't know. No body knows."
The Hatter sighed. "Perhaps you're right." He turned and placed his hand in his pocket, fingering the object inside. "Then tell me what you know about the Batman."
The rope around Bruce's wrists stayed tight, his attempts to free himself falling further and further. "Nothing."
"Oh I wouldn't lie if I were you." The Hatter pulled out his weapon, the revolver. Aiming it at Bruce, the shot would be so close he could count the bullets inside. Fully loaded. But at his distance, this time he wouldn't miss. "You see earlier this week I had a clown in my possession I was saving him for a... special, occasion." He chuckled. "But if you don't have the information I need, I could simply dispose of you now." He smiled as he pulled back the hammer.
"Excuse me," The Hatter and his captive turned to the sound. Sitting in the windowsill was the Joker, dressed in his deep purple suit, green vest, and blue undershirt. The full effect enhanced by the excited grin on his face and the signature makeup, so perfectly fit. "I had dibs on the gorgeous playboy billionaire." He slid from the seat as he laughed at his own joke.
Joker? Bruce was genuinely surprised. He had expected for Alfred to call someone, Gordon at least, for help.
The Hatter growled and pointed the gun, firing at the clown prince of crime, just barely passing his side.
"Missed me!" The Joker stuck out his tongue and laughed, throwing a couple playing cards that had been concealed in his sleeves. The first one grazed the Hatter's arm, tearing his coat. The second was the best, flying quickly to the right side of his face and making a deep gash, instantly filling over in blood. The Joker gasped. "Could it be? You're first scar! I'm so proud!" He smiled and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.
Bruce grinned at this, giving up on his bindings and having confidence the Joker would release him. If he couldn't step in as Batman now, he might as well enjoy the show that was taking place.
The Hatter fired the gun twice more, the Joker only needing to move slightly to avoid the bullets that would have merely grazed him. "What's wrong?" He grinned as he grabbed one of the lesser grenades from his coat, having had no time to arm it. "Can't hit a pretty face?" He batted his eyes as he threw it to the ground. The Hatter swatted at the smoke and fired a shot into the cloud. No luck. Bruce narrowed his eyes, scanning for the Joker. "Bruce." The clown's voice came as a whisper beside his ear, he felt he bindings go loose. "Out the window. I left a little gift for you." The Joker dropped something in his lap and stalked back into the fog.
Bruce stood and silently escaped to the window as the Joker played as his distraction. He climbed over the edge and let himself fall to the ground outside, a drop only a couple feet. He turned. Sitting on an old crate box sat his armor, his cape, his identity as Batman. But it was missing a single piece. He looked to the object the Joker had given to him, finding the last part of suit. His mask.
Inside, the Joker stayed hidden in the fast fading fog, moving constantly, shouting out various ideas and jokes to throw off the Hatter, making him increasingly more aggravated. "You're a miserable shot." He walked silently. "You should get a knife instead. It's more fun that way." The Hatter followed the sound, aiming the gun where ever he heard the slightest shift of movement, but not releasing the final bullet he had.
"Aren't you running late?" The Joker asked as he chuckled. "Tea can only stay hot for so long."
"That's true." The Hatter said lowly, his eyes glancing quickly. "But your smoke will be gone before it gets cold."
Batman slid on his cowl, now full in his armor, and climbed back through the window. He needed to hurry. The fog was thin, the Joker would be seen any moment. He needed to stop the Hatter. He wasn't willing to waste any time.
The Joker didn't stop as the color lifted, instead he kept moving. He had a few tricks up his sleeves, but not all he could use. He wanted to pull the pin on one of his favorites, Joker Venom, but the Batman was right outside. If he came in while it was in air, the Hatter wouldn't be the only one to fall. He pulled a few more playing cards from his sleeves, throwing them with the upmost accuracy at the armed man. One grazing the hand he held his gun as he turned, one sinking into his upper arm, and one getting stuck in the very top of his hat. The Hatter yelled in pain and grabbed his arm, his blood already visable on his jacket. He turned to where it had came. The smoke was lifted, the Joker in clear view. He raised his injured arm and pulled the trigger. The Joker was marveled at the force, he fell to the ground, pain shooting through his side on impact. His eyes went wide as he looked up at the man who had pushed him.
The Batman was still standing, leaning slightly as he clutched his just beneath his shoulder. He came through the window as the Joker had thrown his cards, when the Hatter found him. He had arrived just in time to force the unprotected clown out of the way, but not enough for himself. The Batsuit was an astounding device indeed, nearly impenetrable. But the Hatter had gotten an unanticipated straight shot, penetrating the armor's separation. A perfect one in a million.
The Hatter shook at the sight, the gun falling to the floor with a metallic thud. "I did it." He whispered in shock and joy. "I did it." He laughed and fled for the door, two more of the Joker's cards sinking into his back before he reached the outside.
The Joker almost ran after him, stopping when the Batman held out his arm to block him. The Joker looked to him in question but it was written on the Bat's face he couldn't. They waited too late to strike. He was hurt. He needed help. The Joker pulled up the knight and led him to the Batmobile, taking the driver's side. He started the infamous car and headed for the cave.
.
When safely hidden, the two made their way inside the complex, the Batman still holding his wound. Alfred was there in an instant, about to kick out the deceitful villain, but at the sight of Bruce, excused the matter to get the required materials to fix him. Batman sat on the table the Joker had earlier in week, the clown sitting backwards in the chair across from him. Almost like deja vu. He removed his armor carefully, setting aside the torso for repairs later. The butler returned with a tray of bandages, cotton balls, alcohol, surgical tweezers, and a suture.
He cleaned the area with the cotton smoothly, Bruce not wincing slightly at the sting of the alcohol. Then he picked up the tweezers, the obstruction clear, not going far too into his chest. He grasped the bullet carefully, removing it with doctor-like persision, and dropping it onto the tray.
The Joker sat watching every move, fast questions rolling around his usually busy mind. "Hey Bats." Bruce looked over to him as Aflred prepared the suture. "Why did you take that shot?" He asked.
"It's my job." Bruce responded, returning his eyes to his wound.
"Yeah, sure." The Joker nodded vaguely, as if thinking it over. "Okay. Alfy?" Alfred turned slightly. "Mind if I finish stitching up Batsy? I'd like to speak with him." He asked smiling, looking surprisingly innocent. Alfred turned to Bruce unfazed, the clown's face falling in insult as a result, but only for a moment, realizing he deserved it. Bruce nodded and the butler bowed out, leaving the readied needle on the table. The Joker picked it up and delicately placed it at the bat's wound, beginning to sew. "So why did you take that shot again?" He asked.
Bruce sighed, looking for an answer. He knew he had to save the Joker. It was the right thing to do. Wasn't it? He was in need of help. Wasn't he? Bruce had wanted to protect the Joker. He had been his rescuer. Despite the number of times he had been forced back to Arkham by the Batman, the Joker saved Bruce Wayne, knowing it was him. Bruce wanted to save the Joker. But something was missing. "I don't know." Bruce responded after a few moments of silenced thought, the Joker had just finished his final stitch.
"Alright," The Joker sighed as he clipped the sting. "Fair enough." It was, in his mind, as he bandaged the finished wound. Being on the same team really throws you.
.
Bruce Wayne laid his bed, his mind fallen into a troubled slumber as the days events rolled over in his head.
He was kidnapped. He was bound. The Hatter had captured him. Pulled out his gun. Was ready to shoot. The Joker had saved him. Released him. Covered for him even. Distracted the Hatter. But that's where the similarities ended, and the dream became a nightmare. He was too late.
The Hatter shot. The Joker fell. The Hatter fled. Batman ran to the Joker. He had been hit hard. He was bleeding. His clown was dying. Bruce's heart pounded. His mind raced. The Joker chuckled. Pulled his face up to Bruce's. Called him 'Brucey'. Kissed his lips. Said goodbye. And died.
Bruce sat up sharply with a jolt. He was breathing heavily, his heart pounding vigorously, and he was covered in cold sweat. A dream. He sighed in relief. It was only a dream. He was home in the manor. The Joker was down the hall. The Joker. The Joker had kissed him. In his dream. Why? Why am I dreaming that?
The Joker is my arch nemesis! And my savior.
He's the Clown Prince of Crime! And my protector.
He's the most feared and wanted villain of Gotham! And one you can trust the most.
Bruce had helped the Joker. Healed him after his torture. But the Joker didn't leave after he was healing. He stayed willingly and helped him plan to capture the Hatter. After Bruce was captured, he didn't leave him on his own. He came and saved him. The Joker knew he was the Batman, the piece of information any villain in Gotham would kill for. But he didn't proclaim it to anyone. He kept it a secret. Gave him his mask when he needed it most. The Joker never abandoned or revealed him. No, he rescued and healed him.
Bruce rubbed his head and fell back onto his pillow. He had caught himself red handed. The Dark Knight was falling for the Clown Prince.
Little known to Bruce, down the hall the Joker laid awake in his bed, Batman's bed. resting his head on his pillow, Batman's pillow. but unable to sleep. His chaotic mind was spinning, but the subject was all wrong. What was normally plans to destroy Gotham, play jokes on the city, and newly get revenge on the Hatter, were now all thoughts possessed only on Batman. Bruce Wayne.
Batman had saved him from the Hatter. No regret, no remorse. He saved Gotham's top villain And in the process, the Joker had been given several moments, several precious opportunities to kill the hero of Gotham. Any other villain would have, not wasting a moment to do so. But he hadn't. He had helped the Batman. Saved the Batman. Kept his identity to himself as if he was Robin the Boy Wonder himself. But what fun would it be without him? Batman was his obsession. A toy in the way. He always had the most fun with him, always at his best. He couldn't kill the Batman! No, he could. He always could. He still could. The corrected statement was I wont kill the Batman.
.
Bruce pressed the final syringe into the Joker's arm. It was still early, Bruce's day off. They were down in the Batcave, Bruce administering the final dosage of antibiotics completely clearing all traces of the Fentanyl from clown's system and running off any chances of infection. Most of his wounds were healed, scars set. He was back to normal.
"You're bleeding Brucey." The Joker pointed with his free hand. Bruce looked as he pulled the needle away, a red spot peering through his white shirt.
"I'll call Alfred." He responded, discarding the syringe into the trash as he walked to the phone.
"Nah, I'll do it. The old guy needs his rest. I'll do it, come on." The Joker offered as he rolled down his sleeve and retrieved the bandages that were set aside from the night before.
Bruce sat down and pulled off his shirt, hoping Alfred could take care of the stain later. His old bandage dark and crimson around the edge, bright and new on top of the wound. The Joker sat before him and pulled away the cloth, readying the new one. "Joker." Bruce said in thought.
"Hm?"
He paused. "What is your name?"
The Joker stopped for moment, seeming to disbelieve the question, but continued normally. "What are you talking about? It's Joker." He answered plainly. "You hurt your chest not your head." He taped on the bandage and stood heading for the lift, he needed to gather his things.
Bruce didn't bother to ask if he understood the question. He knew he did, and apparently didn't like it. He slid on his bloodied shirt and made his way to the computer.
The Joker arrived at his room, he didn't have much in it. His makeup, a few spare weapons that weren't used on the Hatter, and Bat's playing cards. He slid the tricks into his sleeves and pockets, arming them in a way, and tucked his signature paint away in a safe one on the inside of his jacket. He smiled as he picked up the purple box of cards, a jester decorated the front. So befitting of him, intentional or not. He kept them in his hand as he returned down to the batcave, saying a quick goodbye to Alfred in passing, and surprising him at his name being said in full.
Bruce heard the sound of the lift and turned, the Joker in his completion. Scars, suit, and jokes set and ready. Gotham's most feared villain. Bruce found himself saddened at the sight, he would miss him. The Joker crossed the floor to the computer and took a look at the screen. "You work too hard Brucey, it's your day off." He turned to the Batman after judging the monitor of various charts and figures.
"Not in a city that doesn't sleep." Bruce replied, expanding the information to show the list of various inmates of Arkham, aswell as their progress, medication, and results.
"Oh," The Joker browsed through the list, searching for his name. He had been free of that place of three weeks. Three weeks? He had spent a couple days readying the bombing of the New Trigate Bridge. Another week or so unwillfully with the Hatter. That means he had only been living with the Batman for a little more than a week. That's all? "Wow." He said quietly to himself.
Bruce heard and followed his gaze, wow was right. So much had happened, so little time. It seemed like so much longer. He was already leaving. He turned back to the clown. "Thank you."
The Joker was snapped out of thought by the comment. What? "What for?" He asked, looking to the bat.
"For your help." Bruce answered.
The Joker looked confused for a moment, then smiled. "Thank you too." The response was equally surprising to Bruce. He held up the jestered box. "For the cards." Bruce smiled for a second, quickly fading as he looked back to his computer. The Joker's grin faded as well as he slid the cards into his safe pocket and started for the exit. "We'll have to play for the same team again sometime Brucey." He chuckled at the idea.
Bruce almost smiled again. "Yes," he agreed, stopping the clown in his tracks and causing him to look over his shoulder. "It was fun."
The Joker was stunned for a moment, but found it amusing. He never expected the Batman to have fun with him. But now it was at an end, it was saddening. Suddenly, he realized, he too would miss the Batman. Bruce Wayne. He sighed. "Hey Brucey," The bat turned to him, the clown stayed facing away. "It's Jack." He said naturally.
Bruce looked at him questionably. "What?" He asked.
The Joker turned, meeting his gaze. "My name is Jack Napier." He turned back, once again walking for the door.
Jack Napier. Bruce's mind began to race. Joker. Jack. "Jack." He whispered. He bolted from his chair. "Jack!" He yelled, grabbing the clown's arm. The Joker stopped and turned back to him. "Jack," Bruce repeated normally. His heart began to pound. His mind ran over looking for the right words to say. "Don't..." He started, stopping short. That wasn't it. "Just," He tried again and sighed. What did he want? The man to stay? He's the Joker! He's Jack Napier. What did he want to say?
The Joker watched as he struggled to find the words. He grinned slightly. "What's wrong Brucey? Cat got your-" He was cut off by the Batman's lips crashing into his.
In that moment the Joker's mind ran faster than ever before then in the next, was utterly calm. The Batman was kissing him. And slowly, he felt his lips begin to press back. Kissing him back the way he was being kissed, with passion and strength. He closed his eyes. He understood now. He didn't just save the Batman for fun. He saved him because he had fallen for him. And the Batman had now fallen for him. The Batman was kissing the Joker. Bruce Wayne was kissing Jack Napier. And both the hero and the care free billionaire had said everything he needed to.
After a moment Bruce reluctantly pulled away, a smile on his face to match the Joker. The clown chuckled. "Well now I guess I have your tongue." At that, the bat chuckled with him as he walked to the phone.
He dialed in the manor. "Alfred, keep the Joker's room." He said happily, getting an assumptuous 'yes sir' on the other line before replacing it in the receiver.
"What are you doing?" The Joker asked questionably.
Bruce turned to him. "Aren't you staying?"
The Joker sighed. "Brucey I can't." He said in obvious disappointment.
Bruce walked back over to him, studying him carefully. "Why not?"
"Look at me." The clown held out his arms and looked straight at the bat. His tricks were armed, slightly visible "Remember who I am?" He asked. Bruce stayed silent. The Joker dropped his arms. "I'm the Joker. The most hated and feared person in Gotham. That won't change, I promise. I won't be 'fixed'. I can't, let alone saying I don't want to." He pointed to the scars around his mouth. "Remember these? I'll always have them. I can't change who I am."
"But you're also Jack Napier." Bruce stated plainly.
The Joker chuckled half heartedly, he was painfully amused. "And how is that supposed to work?" He questioned. "Be the full time most feared, uncontrollable villain of Gotham and lead a double life as the pretty boyfriend of billionaire of Bruce Wayne? It can't happen."
Bruce looked down, his thoughts ran over in his mind, his mortals and feelings battling each other. He didn't like the idea of crime. He wanted Justice. But he also wanted Jack Napier. The Joker. The clown prince of crime. "It can." He decided lowly.
The Joker looked to him stunned, unsure if he had heard correctly. "What?"
Bruce looked up, his gaze was enough to piece iron. "If no one gets killed."
The Joker simply stared at him for a moment. He was completely boggled. Is he playing with me? No. The bat's face was straight and stern, the kind of glare he used in a serious situation, like when someone was in trouble. "You're... serious." The Joker concluded. Bruce nodded in affirmation. Wow. The clown thought. Batsy does care. "Alright." He agreed finally, still trying to figure ways to cause chaotic explosions and destruction without it resulting in death. "I'll stay."
"Good." Bruce smiled shortly out of satisfaction. "But you may have to return to Arkham a few times."
"That place can't hold me Brucey." The Joker waved it off and stepped off the stairs. "You should know that by now." He grinned. "So, how should we find the Hatter today?"
Bruce thought for a moment, the reports on the Arkham criminals beginning to go cold. Not to mention there was no specific hide out past his backup. He had to think. What were the Hatter's weaknesses? What were his skills? What he lacked in destruction and gun sight he made up for in hypnotism and hats. Hypnotism. He used hypnotism to kidnap the Joker and Bruce Wayne. Kidnapping. That's it. One of them would need to be kidnapped. And he knew just how to do it. "You're coming to work for me."
The Joker looked to him strangely. "Excuse me?"
"You can drop clues, proof, to the Hatter. Showing you know Batman. The Hatter will kidnap you, Jack Napier, The Joker and personal assistant of Bruce Wayne."
"Hey that's not a bad plan Bats." The Joker grinned in excitement. "This could be a lot of fun."
"Good." Bruce nodded and returned to the phone. "I'll let Alfred know of the preparations that need to be made. You start tomorrow."
.
Up in the farthest north reaches of the city, the Hatter was hard at work. He sat in the same hideout he had the day before, when Bruce Wayne escaped. No. He didn't escape. He was released, and by the Joker no less! He mumbled to himself in irritable comments and angered groaning as sewed up the top of his hat, the Joker's card laying on the table next to it. Luckily, it hadn't pierced any of the equipment hidden inside, the hat was still in perfect working order. But the tear, oh, the Joker would surely pay for that. The Hatter had already removed the cards from the back of his jacket, cuts not very deep. His hand and face were scratched, the Joker may proving right about him receiving his first scar. The worst, however was his arm. The card had dug deeply into his flesh. He used the same method on his arm as he did on his hat, stitching the edges back together and forming a neat, almost invisible seam. No one would ever notice it, except the Hatter. He would make sure the Joker would pay. He just needed a plan. He was sure of one thing, the battle was far from over.
.
Wayne Enterprises was a sight to behold during the day, the massive building shimmered against the sun, and only the best dressed found their way inside. The layout was also stunning, spacious for all the men and women normally walking from floor to floor for meetings or other business. While some stayed behind their desks, tapping away at the computer before them as they kept the those inside the department in check. About ten o'clock that morning, a man swayed through the large glass doors and approached one of their desks.
He had medium blonde hair, reaching slightly to his shoulders and had waves, almost curls. His skin was a pale ivory and his eyes a deep, yet electric blue, and smile was charming, almost amused looking. He wore a deep violet suit and matching tie, a light blue shirt underneath, making his eyes stand out all the more.
"I'm here to see Bruce Wayne." He smiled. "Jack Napier."
The secretary nodded and picked up the line, punching in the number for the owner's office.
.
"Mr. Wayne, a Mr. Jack Napier is here to see you." Bruce picked up the phone.
"Send him up." He replied. A few moments later, the doors to his office opened, revealing the sharp dressed clown.
"Good morning Mr. Wayne." He grinned as he sat in the chair opposite of his new boss.
Bruce was pleased, impressed even at his new make up. "No scars." He noted. Jack groaned.
"It only took half the morning. Not to mention the contacts or this damned wig." He scratched at the blonde locks.
"It looks good," Bruce approved. "You'll be in the office next door. The computer holds all the contact information and schedules you'll need. The basic guidelines for how to use them are in the bottom drawer. The other equipment you'll need is here." He passed the Joker an orange envelope, Jack Napier and the date marked on the top. "How long before the Hatter starts to suspect you?"
Jack grinned as he opened the envelope, pulling out a small, undetectable ear piece and placing it beside his right lobe. "Well if all goes to plan around midnight tonight."
"Good." Bruce opened a drawer and pulled out an identical ear piece, placing it in his own. "Be sure to stay in touch. " He tested.
"Of course Brucey." Jack chuckled. "What would I do without you?"
.
Over the next few days, Jack Napier became the buzz of Wayne Enterprises. Fast, efficient, and, to women on every floor, quiet handsome Everyday he was on right on time, completing the days requirements timely and without error, making some envious. Bruce began to wonder if he had done it before. On the hidden side, unknown to anyone but the bat, Jack continually dropped imperfect evidence of him being the Batman's connection. Notes and secretive writings that a child could decifer, but not enough that everyone would believe it. He was also very cunning, staying to the lower, darker parts of the city to return to home and go to work, the perfect place that even a common criminal could mug him, not that he'd allow anyone to. He still carried a trick or two, very discretely hidden, it would take anyone else too long to find, if they even thought to. The suit he wore daily was a gift from Bruce. Though normal looking inside and out, the jacket's sleeves had hidden slits, enough for Jack to store a couple cards if he needed them. His shoes were altered as well, similar in the Joker's style, clicking his heel against the ground causing a sizable blade to slide from the front of the leather. He was prepared for anything.
After work the last day, he stayed late, waiting for the sun to start setting before he began his walk, acting casually, though he felt a set of eyes following him, and no doubt who they belonged to. He turned in an alley way, waiting for the character to strike, and it only took a moment before he was out cold.
.
Jack woke with semi-familiar bindings, his hands behind his back and his torso bound, though this time he was in a chair. Through a pulsing headache and blurred vision, he noticed the chair was the same odd one the Hatter used to sip his tea, approving the plan had worked.
"Good evening, Mr. Napier." Jack turned to the man in the distinguished top hat. His eyes were viably red and sleep withdrawn, almost like an insomniac, his mouth twisted in a hideous frown, and his hair falling from all edges of his brim, dirty and sweat covered. A fresh red scar ran down his face, sewn improperly and probably mistreated aswell as infected. He no longer appeared to be the simple, schizophrenic Alice in Wonderland charter, now, he was clearly mad.
"Hatter!" Jack exclaimed as he mentally grinned. "What do you want?"
Unseen, Bruce sat up infront of his computer, instantly typing in new information and tracing the Joker's line.
"The Batman, Mr. Napier." The Hatter spat at his question. "And don't lie, I know you know who he is!"
Jack held back his laughter and smiled. "Of course I know he is." He sighed, seeming to relax slightly, pissing off the Hatter even more. "He's the hero of Gotham. The Dark Knight. A visualante."
Bruce got the signal, finding the address and immediately going for his suit. "I'm on my way."
"I know that! I want to know where he is" The Hatter shouted. "Where do I find him?"
"I don't know!" Jack shot back.
In a single second the Hatter pulled a knife from his jacket pocket and brought it close to the clown's throat, the Joker now kicking himself for giving him the advice to get one. "Don't. Lie. To me." The Hatter said lowly, pressing the knife softly to his neck. "Where is Batman?"
"I haven't spoke to him recently," Jack said, slightly more nervous with the plan, but still wanting to see the ending. "I don't know."
"When?" The Hatter hissed, pushing the blade closer, now Jack felt a small trickle of blood running down his skin.
By now, the Joker would have pulled out his tricks, cutting the manic in return for cutting him, but that would ruin the fun he hoped to come later."Earlier this week." He said cautiously. "After he saved Bruce Wayne."
The Hatter growled and pulled away slightly. "Wrong." He gripped the man's collar, pulling him close to his face. "Batman didn't save Bruce Wayne. The Joker did. I shot the Batman."
"The Joker?" Jack asked in disbelief, his mind now spinning with laughter. How funny was the thought, the Hatter blissfully unaware of who he is. "But, why would the Joker save-"
"It's not important!" The Hatter yelled and repositioned the knife against his flesh, holding him in place. "Now tell me where the Batman is hiding."
Jack had to prevent a wild grin from crossing his face. "Okay," He sighed and glanced at the floor. "He's standing right behind you."
He kicked his feet up and slammed them into the Hatter, causing the chair to fall backwards and shatter. The Hatter stumbled backwards into the grip of the Batman, he turned and raised his knife, attempting plunging it into the armor of the Dark Knight's stomach, but not making a scratch.
"Not this time." The Batman landed a blow across the Hatter's face, knocking the blade clean out of his hands and onto the floor, which Jack happily picked up, free of the ropes. The Hatter's top hat fell to the ground aswell, landing with a gentle thud.
"You can't do this!" The Hatter groaned and struggled, the Batman's strength well over powering his own. "I have a city to create. I will have it!"
"Sure you will." Jack grinned and stepped towards him. "As soon as you're back in the asylum." Batman held back the Hatter as he tried for the clown. "You know, I don't ever remember you having these." Jack grabbed the restrained man's right arm, taking it carefully from the Batman but still holding tight. He forced up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal several pin points dotting randomly on his arms. "No wonder you're loonier than usual." He chuckled. The Hatter growled in realization and started shouting as Batman studied his forearm. Different areas of it were red and swollen, some worse than others. Self experimentation. The Hatter tried to force his arm out of the grip as Jack dropped him to return to his fallen chair. Batman kept his strength. "Don't be surprised Bats." Jack said plainly as he returned with a handful of rope, unknotting the last piece before handing it to the Batman. "He was a research scientist. It's a natural thing to him."
The Batman nodded and took hold of the Hatter's exposed arm, causing him to yelp slightly, surprising the Dark Knight as he began to tie him. Some of whatever was flowing through the character was either recent or residual. When bound, the bat dragged him outside to the black car, the clown walking beside calmly, the knife loosely hanging in the hand farthest away from the still struggling Hatter. He opened the door with a grin as the Hatter was forced into the backseat, slamming it shut once inside. Finally the mad man was caught. Batman turned to the clown. "Stay here."
"Why?" He asked surprised. "It's not like the guards will recognize me." He reached for the passenger side door, the bat stopping him from opening it.
"I'd rather not risk it." He looked straightly at Jack, seeming more serious than usual.
Jack sighed. "Okay." He submitted. "Just don't forget to come back for me." He grinned. "It's a long walk home."
"I won't." The Batman assured and turned to the driver's side, climbing inside and soon disappearing into the night.
Jack returned to the building, walking around aimlessly inside for a few moments before boredom swept over him. He started to become mischievous He began searching through the rooms, finding the various odds and ends the Hatter had left, loving what he found. Wires, connectors, timers, switches, buttons, detonators; he had it all. Now all he needed was something that could blow the building into a million tiny pieces. Nitroglycerin, HMX, C4, anything would do in the wrong amount. He began to look harder, searching faster as the idea made him excited. Who doesn't want to end with a bang? After what felt like years of searching he found it, hidden below the floor boards of the center room. How perfect. He grinned and began to link every component together, forming a rough, perhaps thirty second detonation wait time. He flipped the switch and started the exit the building, a small timer ticking down. Jack continued calmly, pleased with his work as he got out of range. Within a few moments a familiar car drove into view. "Hey Batsy!" He grinned. The Batman walked carefully out of the vehicle, knowing something was about to happen. His instincts kicking in. "You're just in time." Jack chuckled and stopped at his side, turning back on his work to watch, the bat following his gaze. The timer inside was on it's last seconds.
Click. Click. Boom.
Within a single second the building was in a giant fire ball of shattered pieces. Fragments of walls, doors, and other things flying in different directions as Jack threw his head back in an extremely Joker laugh. The Batman wasn't surprised. He should have guessed it would happen. He turned to the clown as his laughter began to fade. "The police will be here soon."
Jack grinned. "Then lets leave before we have to explain why you haven't thrown a hit yet." He climbed into the batmobile and relaxed as Batman took the wheel. "Hey Batsy," He glanced over. "Wanna know how the Hatter got his drugs?"
"You know?" The knight asked, slightly curious as to how he knew.
"Sure," Jack answered. "His rehabilitation was going so well, one of the scientist decided it'd be a good idea to ask him to help formulate a new drug. Help calm some of the more frantic of his friends." He grinned knowing the Joker was one, most likely topping the list. "So he took the opportunity to test some things."
"That sounds like him." Batman affirmed "He'll be back in Arkham in the morning, rehabilitation will be starting over though." He thought for a moment, the Joker went the Arkham countless times, behaving badly and causing some injury to it's employees, though only minor. His rehabilitation track was constantly changing, always restarting. Not once did he improve. But then again, the Joker himself said he never could.
"I'm glad I don't have to go back there yet." Jack smiled. "It's much more fun being outside where everyone's waiting for something to happen." Batman continued his thoughts as he pulled into the manor, safely storing away the car and stepping out. Once inside he removed his cowl and armor. The Joker sighed as he pulled off the blonde wig and sat on the couch. "Home sweet home." He chuckled. "Now we just have to go to work in three hours."
Bruce smiled partially. "That's how it normally goes."
The clown glanced at him from his seat. "You know you should smile more often Brucey." He grinned as Bruce turned to him. "It looks good on you."
"Perhaps." Bruce smiled again and turned away from him. "With good reason."
The Joker rolled his eyes. "Reason huh?" Bruce turned to answer only to see the clown's closed eyes an inch from his and the feeling of his lips pressing against his own. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to smile as he kissed back. The Joker's lips curled into a grin of victory the feeling. When they broke their eyes caught sight of a grey suit in the doorway. "Oh hi Alfy." The Joker chuckled.
Alfred cleared his throat. "Master Wayne, what is the status on the Hatter?"
"He's been turned in." Bruce answered. "He'll be put back into the Arkham system tomorrow afternoon."
The butler nodded and started to leave when the clown caught his attention. "One more thing Afly." He grinned. The older man looked to him curiously. "If you don't mind I'll be retiring my room, hope I wasn't too much of a problem for you." Alfred nodded and exited the room.
Bruce looked to the clown concerning, even some hurt. "Why? Joker, Jack Napier, you don't need to go just because the Hatter's been captured."
"Calm down Brucey, I'm not leaving." The Joker chuckled. "I just don't see a need my room anymore." He grinned mischievously as he picked up his wig and began heading for the stairs.
Bruce thought for a moment, being slightly confused. "But where will you stay?"
The Joker stopped on the first step and turned to him. "Isn't it obvious?" He asked rhetorically. "In yours." He continued up the stairs, chucking to himself.
Bruce smiled and followed him. He had no objection.