"Are you serious? Is he really coming?" The clown asked the (male) nurse for about the 5th time, a slight high tinging voice.
"Yes I'm serious. I'm not you." The burly man answered, patience slipping, his gruff, low voice of stark contrast to his current remedial position. It often shocked the Joker what some men would do just for a few months out of jail time. Dressing up in nurse outfits and catering to him was not something a lot of men would like to do. (Not that he'd never done it himself.)
"Oh, I'm so excited!" The green haired man exclaimed, wiggling around out of absolute delight in his straight jacket. "It's been a month and a half since I've seen him, you know. Longer than that, 17 days." The manly nurse grunted. It wasn't surprising that the clown had kept count. He was only a lot obsessed. "A month and 17 days. Can you even fathom?" No, of course the dumb nurse couldn't. He didn't know the man like Joker did.
"I'm sure he's just as excited to see you." The nurse said, rolling his eyes.
"You think so? I know he's absolutely batty about me." He cracked back, grin widening to a sickening degree. "Does my make-up look alright?" He shifted his eyes down and puckered his lips to make sure the red around it hadn't smeared. It hadn't. That's right. Because it wasn't make-up anymore. He'd stopped having to do that a while ago, since the chemicals had fixed that problem for him. Well, except his hair, which he would have prefered a little lighter. But it sure felt nice to have a permanence about his identity. Like Harvey, who's face couldn't change, and the Penguin who couldn't be less fat if he tried (Ha!), the Joker could no longer simply be washed down the drain. Nothing was simple anymore with the Bat patrolling Gotham.
The door on the opposite side of the room opened, flooding the dimly flourescent room with light. A man cloaked in darkness stepped in and gave a breif nod to the nurse, who briskly stepped out. Oh goody, he'd arrived. Time to start the fun.
"I can't believe you actually agreed to this. I thought I was the only one who could make jokes, but I was certain the doctor was kidding when he said we should try letting you psychoanalyze me!" The clown giggled a little bit and squirmed a little bit more. The man in the cape remained silent.
"Oh, please make yourself comfortable. I know I will." He fumbled around with the buttons on the side of the bed, adjusting them, and then playing with them a little. It gave the desired effect, the Batman narrowed his eyes and growled at him. Through the cowl, the Joker could see that Bat's eyes held something reminiscent. That Robin he'd killed had been rather playfull, hadn't he? Was the Caped Crusader thinking about that little boy right now?
"Quit playing around Joker." The low voice cut through the small fits of laughter the inmate hadn't known he was emitting. He was prone to doing that. "I'm here so that next time you go crash some party, I'll have a vague idea as to why and what to do with you."
"Really?" The Joker questioned, ceasing his laughter. "I thought we were here to talk about me." The sentence ended in silence, and they sat awkwardly through the suffocation for a few seconds.
"Well, go on." The Batman finally urged.
The man in the straight jacket giggled again, much to the dark knight's dismay. "Oh, but where should I begin?" He pulled a face, thinking vaguely through the encounters with other doctors he'd had and where they started. "I guess you want to play by the books and start with my childhood? How about, instead, I start with my name?"
The Batman looked shocked at this, leering backwards slightly as if blown off balance. Really, the man should be used to this by now, the clown had always managed to somehow take him off guard. Then he straightened his composure, crossed his arms over his kevlar chestplate, and muttered, "And what makes you think I'll believe the name you give me?"
The Joker didn't laugh, his face held absolute seriousness that once again left the Bat confused as he replied. "You don't have to. You'll never know if I'm telling you the truth or not. I've told several stories to several different doctors and none of them have ever been completely true." Sometimes he intended to tell the truth. Sometimes he'd start, but then get lost in the story and paint an intricate tall tale about love and lust and rejection. But this was his other half, and he knew he could never truly be one with the man if the man wasn't one with him. He'd try his hardest to keep the jokes to a minimum, for that sake. "Let's start over. Hello, my birth name is Lyle and I'm a deranged, psycopathic lunatic. Or so the doctors say." The serious facade broke. He grinned. "This would be the part where we shake hands, but I can't exactly do that with them strapped behind my back."
The cloaked man grunted non-comittaly and motioned for the green haired man to continue. "I'm 44 years old." He stopped short and counted down in his head. "...38 years ago I was 6 years old. I think that's about the time when mom started hitting me." He tried to transition smoothly, he really did, but couldn't help it. The thoughts made him snicker a little under his breath. The black man glowered down at him, and the clown shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm trying love, I really am." He said, snickering a little bit harder. "If you weren't so stotic it might make this slightly easier."
"I doubt me laughing a little would do anything other than make you laugh even harder." His partner grumbled. It was true, the Joker would laugh. He was laughing right now, infact. Oh, his Bats sure could lighten the mood!
"Was that your attempt at a joke?" The painted man leered. "You'd better leave it to me, Toots. Darling. Whichever you prefer."
The Batman scowled. "Leave out the pet names and I'll be more inclined to listen." Boy, the Batman sure was a master at ruining his fun. The Joker scowled back.
"Whatever you say, honey." Another giggle, he was sure it was grating on Batman's nerves. Good, he loved doing that. His favorite hobby, really. How had he kept himself entertained in that prison cell for so long? Oh, by picking on Ivy. Pam really didn't like it when the Joker played with her like she was their worst enemy, mind you. "Shall we continue?" Silence on the Batman's end, he took that as a yes.
"Well, alright. Yes, I hold the typical 'my parents beat me when I was a kid' kind of childhood." A giggle escaped, nothing he could do about it but pretend it never happened. "I'm sure most kids who are beaten as children don't end up like I did. I'm also sure most kids didn't get hurt as savagely as I did. It's not like she started out with nice punishments and then got more severe over the years. No, she was cruel right from the get-go. Infact, in the beginning my mom liked to play pretend, and that's what hurt the most."
A pause. The Batman wasn't buying it. Too bad too, the clown wasn't lying just yet. "Her favorite was Russian Roulette." What was yesterday, 2? That means today is 3. I'll fire off 3 shots and you can only hope all of them are blanks. "She rarely ever held it to my head. Not to say she didn't. Most of the time it was my side, or my sholder blade or something. Sometimes if she was feeling really cruel, she'd put the barrel up to my..." He probably should have left that part out because he cracked, and now he was laughing so hard he fell off the bed. And the high pitched sounds resounded loudly around the room for several minutes before he managed to regain his composure just barely enough to continue.
"Sorry, love." Oh yeah, he was supposed to leave those out if he wanted to be serious. "It's funny, I'm sure I must have had the most terrified look on my face when she threatened my manhood." The Batman cringed. Any man would have, though he'd worded it lightly.
Joker continued. "You know what she used to say? My laugh was like a one-man orchestra." Hearing it is like being swept away by a symphony of harmonious sounds. Only they sound really bad. And the only way I can make them shut up is by carving them out of you. "Only I think she meant that in a bad way," Her punishments always backfired, and never seemed to make him shut up anyways. "because she always used to get excruciatingly angry and then turn me black and blue. I told her once that all that anger was probably bad for her health. You know, blood pressure. She didn't laugh. She doesn't appreciate my comedy like you do, Bats."
The Batman stayed quiet for a second, while the clown waited patiently for an answer. "I don't appreciate your comedy. You're a raving madman."
"Your mom's a raving madman." The Joker reciprocated. Painful silence ensued, even more drowning than all the others before it. The green haired man was eager to pop the bubble. "I tried suicide at one point." He knew it was rather unexpected, and once again he was rewarded with the reaction from the dark knight that he wanted. In high spirits, he added, "It was a rather lame attempt though. I figured 'I'm off-ing myself in order to escape the pain, so why go out in a painful way'?" A tiny giggle broke the dialogue, but Batman didn't seem to notice. Or care. Maybe his words were just that captivating. "I scarfed down a bottle of advil. Only it was already half gone and I ended up throwing up blood and then going to bed with a sore stomach. I didn't die in my sleep." The Bat was staring at him intensely. "If you couldn't tell."
Batman grunted to awknowledge that, infact, he could tell. The Joker's hyena laughter seemed to break through batman's wall of in-attention, though. "What's so funny about suicide?" Foolish question for the vigilante to ask the Joker, really.
"Well, to start..." Pause, change the direction of the conversation. The Batman would only get mad if he started to list that off. "...No, that's not why I'm laughing." Giggle, "It's just... you're just... your so focused on this. Am I really that exciting? I feel like I've got you on a string. Most people have a pet dog. I have a pet Bat!" Full blown laughter. He'd lost it. And was rolling on the floor. Literally. What did those stupid pre-teens call it, rofeling?
A batarang aimed at his face made him shut up. Almost instantaneously, too. It was almost funny but he had a feeling he probably shouldn't laugh. The caped man uttered a continue, and the Joker just couldn't bring himself to sass.
"Alright alright, sheesh, no need to get your cape tied in a knot." He sighed and sat himself up, crossing one of his legs over the other while he leaned against the bedspring. "Well, there's not really much left to tell of my childhood. Oh, except I murdered them when I was 17."
He was going to keep going but the Bat cut him short. "Them? You killed your dad too? Why?"
"So many questions. Jeez, it's odd hearing you talk this much. Yes, them. My dad too." He answered, straight, to the point. "Because to him I was like my mom's posession and she could do whatever she wanted with me as long as it made her happy. I don't think he stood up for me once. Never told her to stop, never truly understood how much she was harming me. Not once!" He sounded quite excited about this. Probably because he had enjoyed doing it, which didn't surprise the dark man. Darn. "So yeah, I killed them. It was a Saturday night and they were watching television while having some shots of champagne so I-"
"Champagne?" How nice of his Bats to interrupt. The Joker growled under his breath. "That's pretty fancy to be drinking in front of a TV on a Saturd-"
Joker's turn to cut the other short. "I think I forgot to mention that they were rich. Kinda like you." The what? that followed was so easy to expect, and the clown couldn't help but smirk at how easy it was to manipulate the other. Kind of like the psychiatrists here, only with the Bat it was only possible to do reactions, whereas the Joker could make those damn doctors abolutely crazy if he worked hard enough at it. Like he had with Harley, bless her soul. "Oh come on, look at the freaking Batmobile! You can't tell me some lowly cashier in a one-room apartment could afford to drive around sacrificing their precious sleeping hours to patrol the city in something like that! Not to mention you fly your own jet."
The caped crusader was starting to look rather uncomfortable with the situation so the Joker got himself back on track. "SO ANYWAYS, I snuck behind dear old daddy and snapped his neck. He deid like he lived, quickly and without noticing anything." He laughed once again which made the Batman sneer. The man probably had stopped believing him a long time ago which meant the Joker could start lying now if he wanted to. Bats would never know. He wasn't sure if he'd started that already, though. "Mother saw once a comercial started up and she wanted to toast. At first she thought it was some kind of chiropractic excercise and dad had just fallen asleep. She changed her mind when I shoved the glass down her throat."
"This was, of course, after I graduated highschool. I repeat, graduated highschool. I did so a year earlier than all the others, too. Because I'm a smarty-pants. Criminal mastermind. Whatever, but I was a social outcast for that, the jocks used to give me swirlies. But anyways, I skipped town and changed my name to Jack. I got a job doing research for some stupid company, but they fired me after a few years because they said I never took anything seriously. Me, never take anything seriously? What a joke!" He allowed himself yet another break for hysterics. The Batman had finally come to the realization that you couldn't have a lengthy conversation with the clowny man without several of these, so he rolled his eyes and leaned his back against the wall.
"After that, I had several nightmares. About the pain, the physical pain was what hurt me. Like, the rolling pin." He tittered a little. "Or the knife. You know she stabbed that into my elbow?" Manical laughter, because it was kind of ironic. You wanna laugh, huh? Maybe if I cut out your funny bone, you'll shut the hell up. "I didn't really dream about the mental pain, because I got over that somewhere along the way of the Russian Roulette thing, and then mommy didn't want to do it anymore because I'd laugh at her. But when going to bed one night, I came to a realization. There's no way, that after all those games we played, I was only shot once. I just couldn't have been that lucky. And you know what I got? There were never only bullets in that gun. She shot me once, just to give the appearance, but other than that she was bluffing me. And I fell for it like the scaredy-ass kid I was. All that time." He sighed, shaking his head ruefully at his own failure. "I was so stupid. Can you imagine how upset I was? I ended up breaking everything in my place, and the landlord kicked me out of the apartment in his shock."
"Say, why don't we talk about what happened to your parents for a bit?" The Joker suddenly inquired. The Batman pushed himself off the wall in defiance just as soon as he'd gotten himself comfortable.
"We're here to talk about you, not me." The Batman growled, not liking the way this conversation was heading. He prepared himself by putting a hand near the sedatives in his utility belt. Just incase he needed them.
"Oh, come on. I tell you all the gruesome details about how I murdered my parents, and you can't simply that you watched them get shot?" He laughed madly then and grinned like no other. The Batman shot forward instantly and clamped his glove around the skinnier man's neck.
"How the hell do you know that?" The dark knight almost screamed at him. His voice was rough, growly, and the Joker could feel the breath jaggedly coming out of the other. Honestly, how didn't he know?
"Oops! Oh well, no point in hiding it now. I've always known, Bats darling! Or I have for a long time, anyways." The Batman growled what? What do you know? like an angry dog. The painted clown gave a sheepish smile and backed himself farther against the bed frame he was still sitting against. "That you're Bruce Wayne." He clarified. The man opposite him quickly relinquished his grip and took several steps back. "Though honestly I don't see why you're worried. If I've never spread this around in the 6 or so odd years that I've known, what makes you think I'm going to blackmail you with it all of a sudden?"
"You just did."
The Joker deadpanned. "To be honest, that was on purpose."
The dark other shook his head violently and rasped out, "Continue." He then put his forehead in his hand and prepared to listen yet again.
"Aww, I don't want to continue. You'll laugh at me." Isn't that what you've always wanted? was the expected reply, and the Joker wanted to agree, but this wasn't really a joke. "Alright, fine. I was in desperate need for cash and did a little prostitution." To lighten his own mood darkening mood, he added, "The women loved me. The scars excited them, I think. I was a lady killer. Not really a man killer though, but I think they were more disgusted with themselves than me."
The vigilante lifted his head out of his hand and rose an eyebrow, but otherwise made no vocal comments. The Joker was almost sad his Bat hadn't jumped on him with sympathy, but if he had then that wouldn't be at all like the Bats he loved.
"So I have practice on both ends, if you're ever interested." The detective scowled heavily and narrowed his eyes, obviously unamused. The vilain only gave a short ha! at the other's face, and went on. "I was introduced into gangs that way, though. The mob, specifically. I was fine with that sort of stuff, I had expirence with murder. Robbing took a little practice but once I got the hang of that I was a pro. It got boring fast, though. Same thing every time and I just kept doing that for years. I lost all the excitement, lost all drive. Just when I thought I was gonna give up on life again, you showed up." He held his breath in a dramatic way, but released it when the Bat only looked at him skeptically.
"I became desperate to get your attention." And he had gotten the other's attention, eventually, after killing several people and leaving clues that lead the Bat straight to him. "Once I did, I became addicted. I'd never had so much fun, joy, laughter in my life. I had to fight with you, play with you, bully you like our relationship was some childish game. I had to. You're like a drug, you know that. My cocaine, baby." Wink. He was feeling quite successful with his flirting tonight. Today. One never knew in Joker's position in the Asylum, the basement, where it was always dark and only the creepiest of the creeps were held down. (Except for Poison Ivy, who insisted that if she wasn't kept in the sunlight she'd wither and die. Goddamn filthy plant bitch belonged in the ground, more so than the rest of them.) "Anyways, I think you can figure out the rest from there, love."
"The end?" Batman inquired. "You're not going to tell me about the therapy sessions, or the torture they tried on you that once?"
"Ahh, but you already know all about that." The Joker said, getting up and walking over. He waggled his finger in front of Batman's face in a tsk-ing gesture.
Wait. Waggled his finger... what...?
That knock-out gas sure worked fast. The clown blew his, so to speak, significant other a kiss and got to work on his escape.
The Batman groaned, waking up rather slowly and feeling groggy. He rubbed his head fiercely, trying to take in his surroundings though everything was blurry. An alarm was sounding. Harley's shrill, obnoxious voice was loudly calling, Mistuh Jay, Mistuh Jay! You're coming back for me, arent'cha baby? Arent'cha? He tried to comprehend that, though his mind was running rather sluggishly. Coming back. He was in Arkham. The Joker must have broken out. That's why the alarms were blaring.
But the last he remembered, the Joker was tied up, in a straight jacket. And then suddenly he was blacking out, with the Joker leaning over him and smiling and giggling and shoving his pale finger into Bruce's face.
Just how long had the Joker had his arms free?
A/N:/ Anyone know how long? By show of hands?
Anyways, moving on. This took me 2 days to write. I had a little more planned out but I kinda ran out of sheduled time to write it at the end so I had to cut those ideas out. My influence for the Joker came from Jack from Lovers and Madmen, however I threw in little references from The Dark Knight if you recognized those. And Joker's hatred for Poison Ivy, which is a thing from The Animated Series. Well, he just hates her in general, I think. So um... yeah, the end? What'd'ya think?
Clarifications (if you need them): Italicized things other than enunciated words are like, small flashbacks of things his mother said to him. Bolded words are like, the other person talking, but the description is in the other person hearing them talk, rather than switching paragraphs to describe that person physically talking. Confused? Me too. The Joker and the Batman aren't really in love, it's just kind of an infatuation on Joker's part. And he likes to tease him by flirting. I shouldn't have had to explain that, I should hope.