Disclaimer- I do not own any of the characters in this story, though with all my heart I wish I did...Ah, at least I can dream. I'm rating this M for future chapters, though it depends on how brave I'm feeling as I write. XD I Loved The Dark Knight, but only for the Joker...he rocks my world. R.I.P. the legendary Heath Ledger. Let's here it for him claps her hands with the purple and green nails
Please R&R, I will love you forever. I haven't written anything for ages, so I hope you enjoy this. x
The metal bar of scaffolding pinned Batman down and as he fought against it's weight, the Joker loomed over him, holding a knife in his bloodstained fingers. "It's a funny world we live in. Speaking of which, do you know how I got these scars?" He licked the scars at the corners of his mouth for emphasis and stared down at his capture.
"No," Now the Batman was ready, armoured forearm positioned in the Joker's face, "but I know how you got these ones."
The lethal metal spikes that shot forth from his forearm, hit home and the Joker yelped, recoiling backwards, as Batman heaved himself up and threw his weight against the Joker.
He fell from the scaffolding, a mighty drop. His manic laughter filled the ever increasing distance between them.
For those few moments the Joker and the Batman were the only two individuals in existence, but it was Bruce who took the leap.
His armour weighing him down, he fell faster than the Joker and had caught up with him still with a great stretch of falling yet to do. He grabbed the slighter man round the waist and his wings billowed out behind them, pulling them out of their swift descent and gliding both men over the bulk of cop cars that formed the perimeter to the site. Batman steered them down an alleyway and at 6 foot, dropped the Joker before making a not entirely graceful landing himself. Batman hauled himself up and turned to face the Joker who was chuckling as he pulled himself to standing, making a show of wiping the grime from his long purple coat. He opened his mouth to speak but the Batman ran forward and head butted him, knocking the Joker unconscious, who then fell to the floor. Though the Batman stood over the limp form of this nemesis, it was Bruce who stared down at the other man, raging emotions of anger and grief and those so deep they could not be named, fought to be heard within him. Bruce's head swam with the laughing face of the Joker and the dead body of Rachel and the look of horror on Dent's face as he burst through the doors into the warehouse that should have held Rachel. As the alleyway dissolved into darkness, Batman took hold again and brought Bruce back to his senses. He leaned down to the Joker's form, where it lay in a oily puddle, and picked the man up, before carrying him off, away from the police cars and to the place where he had left the tumbler's motorcycle. He positioned himself on the motorcycle, with the Joker's body lying slumped in front of him. He revved the motorcycle into life and sped away, not quite knowing where he was going, but things had changed now, and he had to follow this through. He was so close to breaking his one rule, hadn't that been what the Joker had told him he must do? Live in the world without rules. He'd upset the established order, his own established order, and now everything was turning into chaos.
The Joker awoke with a start, to find himself fuzzy headed in a small dank room, with the blood from the wounds on his face drying on his scarred cheeks and down his shirt. The room almost looked like a cell, like the one in which he'd been interrogated by the Batman, though without the give-away mirror, badly concealing a one way window. He licked his scars and stared around him, he's been stripped of his over jacket and his gloves and shoes had been removed, it was then that he noticing the powerful bindings that held his hands in place behind his back and firmly on the chair. He struggled against it, shaking his hands and twisting his body this way and that to feel for any give in the bindings, but there was none. He was trapped, a rabbit in a snare. He admired the Batman for that, at least he knew he was in the secure hands of a professional.
The lights flickered on above him and he smirked as the figure of the Batman appeared through the lessening gloom.
"You…you…ha-ha, huh huh, ho-ho, he-he…you, you, you." A lick of the lips, all the time not losing eye contact with the black clad vigilantly who stood before him. "You just couldn't let me go, could ya?"
Batman stood perfectly still, staring into the fathomless eyes of his nemesis, watching, waiting.
"Is the Batman ready to break his one rule, I wonder. Was the falling to my mutilated death not good enough for you? You want it be a little more, should we say…personal? Don't get me wrong, I respect a man who enjoys the finer things in life." He erupted into maniacal laughter, and shook his head, his lank green hair whipped across his face. His laughter petered to an end and he slumped in his chair, breathing deeply, though the smirk didn't leave his face.
"So, out of reach of the police, hidden away, you're gonna punish me for your mistakes? Is that it?" He clicked his tongue in mock regret as he lifted his head to the Batman's again.
"You know something? You're just like Dent. It was so easy to break him, drag him down a peg or two. Because you see," He leaned his body as forward as it would go against the bindings and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little…push." He burst into shrill cackling laughter again and Batman strode quickly to him, using a Bat-o-rang to tear through the ropes that held the Joker firmly on his seat and pulled him up by his collar to standing. He snarled in rage as the Joker continued to laugh, being fuelled by the reaction his words had received from the dark knight.
"How dare you!" Batman forcefully pushed the Joker against the wall, cutting short his laughter and producing a groan.
"What have I told you about starting with the head?" Batman tightened his grip on the man before pulling him a short distance from the wall to slam him into it again, harder that the first time.
"You killed Rachel!" His screamed this at the now bleary eyed clown as he desperately tried to keep his rage under control.
"No, no, no, no, no. You killed Rachel, you didn't get there fast enough. I was perfectly forthcoming with the whereabouts of them both."
Again, Batman slammed the Joker against the wall, again the groan escaped from between his blood red lips.
"You gave me the wrong address! I reached Dent!"
"Ooh, I did?" The Joker mocked concern, "I forgot that part. That's what happens when you direct forceful attention to the back of my head. I told you, fuzzy."
Batman roared with fury, and drew the Joker back from the wall a foot, to smash him back, but the vision of Rachel swam across his mind again and he stopped himself, throwing the Joker to the floor instead.
He lay still for a moment or two, his body aching, then he heaved himself up to sitting position as best he could with his hands still bound behind his back. Then he swung himself round onto his knees and albeit clumsily, made his way to standing.
He shook his head and watched the Batman who stood with his back to the Joker and his head lowered at the other side of the room. The grin left his face as he pondered the thoughts of the Dark Knight.
"Why so serious?"
Batman turned to face the Joker, his eyes glowing with hatred. The Joker raised an eyebrow and licked his scars.
"You're not so incorruptible as you show yourself to be, Bruce." He added extra emphasis to the man's real name, and received the response he was looking for, the Batman took a step back in disbelief
"How…how do you know?" The gruff voice he used to hide his own faltered and it became Bruce who spoke out to the Joker. The scarred clown chuckled a deep resonating chuckle, he lowered his head and his shoulders shook for a moment before he lifted his head to face Batman again.
"Don't you think it's obvious?" He took a step forward towards Bruce,
"I already knew you, er, Bruce Wayne, were Rachel's ex-sweetheart. Lucky bugger. Then it was obvious from then on. Where were you at your party for Dent? I did think to myself , well, he's an egotistical billionaire, saving himself above everyone else, but that didn't make sense, not when Rachel was there. So I put two and two together…I got lucky." He chuckled again, took a step closer, closer, closer. A foot was all that separated the two men, Bruce pulled himself back, as the scarred face of the Joker loomed closer and closer.
"Let me out of these chains, Bruce-y" The he turned round and offered his wrists to the dazed man behind him. He hummed a tune under his breath as he heard the key to the handcuffs click into place and unlock them.
"Ah, that's better." The Joker rubbed his sore wrists and then turned to the Batman again.
"You see, now you are just a man. No longer the symbol that was meant to…inspire fear in my cold criminals heart. And men can be broken." From a hidden pocket that Bruce hadn't found when unarming the Joker when he had been unconscious, he brought out a round handled blade, with a serrated edge. Rather than performing his usual trick of grabbing the person round the back of the head he simply smiled and walked away, back to the chair he had been tied to, where he sat down, licked his scars and crossed his legs.
"Now you're just a man in a mask, so why don't you let me see what that man is…capable of."
Bruce opened his mouth to protest but really he knew, albeit against his better judgement, that the Joker was right. He hesitated then gave in and removed his mask. A mask, a symbol of strength…remove that mask and you are simply left with a man, a man who can be broken. Bruce had never felt so vulnerable in his life. He felt small. He felt on the verge of breaking.
The Joker sat up straight in his seat and an astounded expression merged into his smile.
"Ohh, I forgot just how…beautiful you are, Bruce-y" He laughed, clapping his hands together and jigging up and down on his seat like some naughty school boy. "You truly are the Dark Knight." His said it with a strange sort of admiration, Bruce didn't truly understand.
The Joker stood and came towards Bruce again, before beginning to slowly circle him, inspecting his face and head from every angle, using the blade of his serrated knife to lift up Bruce's hair or trace the contours of his cheeks. Bruce kept as still as was possible though his breathing was deep and his eyes shiftily moving around him to keep the Joker in eye line.
"Just a man…" The Joker stopped, directly being Bruce, the unmasked man could feel the Joker's breath against the back of his neck, then feel a slight pressure around his hips before a low click made clear what the Joker had done. He had removed the suits utility belt from around his waist.
"We'll get rid of this shall we?" The Joker clicked his tongue and carried the utility belt as he moved to face Bruce. He licked his scars before continuing. "Nasty piece of equipment this is, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, now would we?" He chuckled before discarding the utility belt and brought his knife up close to Bruce's face once more.
"Strip the rest. I want the complete man. And don't try any funny business, I'm going to inspect your belt for weaponry and we wouldn't want any accidents." He brought his face inches from Bruce's for a moment, to emphasis the threat before moving to the discarded belt and, as he had said, inspected it for weapons.
Bruce considered his options, but found there were few and that at this precise point in time, all but one resulted in pain. So he followed his instructions and stripped off the suit. Beneath was a lightweight 'cat' suit that kept the hard material of the reinforced suit off his skin. The suit fell away from his body and hit the floor with a resounding thud, making the busy Joker turn his head to Bruce to inspect the man progress. He clicked his tongue again.
"Nothing under that?" He frowned at Bruce, who looked confused for a moment.
"Just pants." Bruce replied, with a slight glow of embarrassment highlighting his cheeks. The Joker chuckled gleefully at the man's shame then barked out his next order.
"Strip to the pants, Bruce-y." To show he meant business he held up the knife again and closing one eye, scored an imaginary line across Bruce's neck. Bruce stripped to his pants.
"There. We. Go." The Joker left the half dismantled utility belt and went back to inspecting Bruce, the tip of the knife now traced the exposed man's collar bone's and the scars that littered his body. The Joker winced with mock empathy as he circled Bruce.
"Well, now I want to know how you got those scars." He said, before break out into fits of spine chilling laughter. He calmed himself a little and indicated to the chair.
"You seem to be allowing me to lead this part of the proceedings, so humour me again and take a seat."
Bruce took a deep breath and made to move towards the chair, but as he took his first step forward he spun round on his feet and laid a punch squarely on the Joker's nose. The clown recoiled with a yap and clasped his blade free hand to his face. Blood dripped from beneath his fingers, but Bruce wasn't done. He pulled the knife out of the Joker's hands and landed a powerful kick to the bleeding man's torso, smashing him against the wall, where he slid to the floor.
His manic laughter rang out, seeming to echo off the stonewalls. Nothing Bruce could do would stop that laughter. He dived forward and wrenched the man off the floor, pulling him up like he'd done when the Joker had first woken up. His took hold of the bleeding man round the back of head, the clown's hand fell away from his face only to have the blade tip pushed against his skin, almost to puncture point. The Joker breathed heavily, and the grin spread across his features.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I wondered how long it would take you." His chuckle was deep and Bruce could feel the vibration of it though the Joker's chest, showing how close the two men were.
"You see, this is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. I think you and I are destined to do this forever."
Bruce's tense muscles relaxed a little, he allowed himself to breath again and the red rage in his eyes subsided a little. There was no stopping him, the Agent of Chaos, nothing threatened him, nothing scared him. He had nothing to lose. Bruce knew it, there were two ways the he could see this ending, both ways involved death, but only way involved him breaking his rule. But was that rule Bruce's or only the Batman's? He recollected what Dent had said at dinner, that evening that seemed so long ago, 'You either die a hero, or live long enough to watch yourself become a villain.' He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and let the Joker go, he stepped back and dropped the knife from his hand, though he didn't hear it hit the floor. Then he turned and walked across the room to sit in the chair and resign himself to his fate.