y'ready for a sad?
Joker leaned back in his bed, his breathing laboured and heavy, the machines lining the wall beeping incessantly, telling him he was alive, keeping him awake.
This wasn't how he'd wanted it to end…
He'd always envisioned himself going out in a blaze of glory. Being killed by Batman had been his...
This had happened so quickly.
At first he'd barely noticed it, his vision had become a little fuzzy, his joints a little stiff, he'd thought nothing of it, but then suddenly…
Now he could barely get 5 steps without collapsing.
No one was really sure what it was that was killing him, but he was going.
No one really cared enough to research it.
No one cared that an old villainous clown was dying.
Except Bruce Wayne of course.
Joker smiled as he heard the door open, lifting himself up a little in the bed, "You're late… what if I'd died-"
"Mr Wayne still isn't here Joker." The voice of his carer echoed around the room.
He rolled his eyes, "Oh it's you… Dear Emily," he let out a soft hiss of contempt, "Where is my husband?"
"Mr Wayne, sir, we don't know, he hasn't called us or anything." The fuzzy blob which was Emily walked up to the bed, slowly coming into focus as she approached.
She began rearranging Joker's pillows, fiddling with the tubes and bags which surrounded him.
"He'd better hurry up, I can feel myself beginning to fade," he lifted a hand to his forehead, he found it harder now to play over dramatic but he still tried.
He frowned, "He better not have died… I swear if that good for nothing dies before me I'll… I'll…"
"You'll do nothing, sir."
"Don't you tell me what to do."
Emily smiled and sat down beside the bed, "I've got to ask, Joker, what is it between you and Mr Wayne? There was nothing between you but suddenly he's funding your medical care and visiting you every week, you're calling him your husband… I've just got to know."
Joker shrugged and chuckled weakly, "Oh so that's your game, gain my trust and then drain me of all my secrets, like some kind of vampire." He smiled, "Well…"
He outstretched a hand, gesturing for her to move closer.
She did, he could see the individual strands of her ginger hair, the black dog hairs on her scrubs. This was the best look at her he'd been able to get.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
He chuckled as she pulled away, disappointed.
She jumped as the door buzzed, Joker couldn't see it but he could hear the door open.
"Sorry I'm late," Bruce Wayne's gravelly voice called into the room.
He smoothed out his suit and took a hobbled step forward, looking between Joker and his carer.
"What's going on here?" he asked as he walked in.
"She was trying to seduce me into revealing all my secrets Bruce, you might want to get her replaced."
Bruce let out a sigh and walked up to the bed, out stretching a hand and placing it on his knee, "She'll leave when you do."
He looked back at Emily, "Has he been giving you trouble?"
Emily shook her head, getting to her feet to let Bruce sit down. "He's been a perfect gentleman."
Her tone was troubling, there was no way Joker would behave himself whilst in captivity unless he was physically incapable of causing a fuss.
His entire life he had dedicated himself to making the lives of those around him hell.
It was his purpose in life, as far as Bruce knew.
Bruce let out a sigh as he sat, looking down at Joker's smiling face. Usually it was a sickening sight but in the past few weeks he'd began to worry, he knew he'd only see it a few more times before it'd be gone forever.
"Brucie," Joker cooed, lifting a hand to pat Bruce's cheek, an action he reluctantly accepted, "What's the matter darling? You look pale."
Bruce looked up at Emily, "Could I talk to him in private?"
The woman nodded, biting her lip as she left the room quickly.
"Joker," Bruce said slowly, "I… you know you're dying, Joker."
Joker smiled, "Does that upset you, little bat?"
Bruce frowned and shook his head, "Doesn't it… bother you?"
The man chuckled, "Oh," he shook his head, "It did, but I figure, I can't go out the way I wanted, might as well just let myself… fade away."
Bruce's frown deepened, that didn't sound...
"That's not like you."
Joker shrugged, "I don't have a choice do I? You're not going to kill me, I'm too weak to kill myself, not that I would anyway."
Bruce shifted on his chair, seeing Joker like this, it was painful, really. There was nothing he could do. This was…
"I'm sorry."
"Oh shush. If you were really sorry then you'd put me out of my misery."
He paused for a moment, his fists clenching slightly.
"That's not… I would never kill you Joker, me not wanting to murder you doesn't mean I'm not sorry for what's happened."
"Tom-ay-to tom-ah-to." Joker smiled as he stretched out the word. He moved to take Bruce's hand, "You wouldn't be murdering me, you'd just be helping out an old friend." He gave the hand a pat, "But no matter, you're a sweetheart, you are faint of heart to kill me, it'd be like killing a part of yourself."
The clown smirked, Bruce wasn't sure if what he was saying was meant to mock him or move him.
"Are you in pain?" Bruce asked, glancing from Joker to the machines lining the wall.
Joker shrugged, "If I told you I was would it convince you? Does it matter what I'm feeling in the slightest?"
"Yes," Bruce stated, he paused a moment before correcting himself, "It does matter."
He smiled softly, "I'm dying Bruce, of course it hurts."
"Emily can give you medication."
"No," Joker said with a shake of his head, "You know what that shit does to you, I don't want to die like that."
Bruce frowned, "Sorry for suggesting it."
"Oh it's ok, Brucie," Joker waved his hand dismissively, "You think you're helping."
"Am I not helping?" Bruce's frown deepened, "I don't have to be doing these-"
Joker chuckled, "I would have died a long time ago if it weren't for you. But I know you wouldn't have this any other way. You act like this is all a big sacrifice for you but you want this, you want to know you did everything you could. If you didn't and you found me dead in an alleyway or something you'd probably go on one of your revenge quests to find out what killed me."
Bruce huffed softly, shaking his head, unwilling to admit if that were true either way. "I'm too old for that."
"Then it's a good thing I like being your prisoner," Joker gave him a sly wink.
Bruce smirked a little, "I would never have thought that of you."
"Still surprising you even now."
Bruce let out a soft chuff, pulling away slightly and crossing his arms. That wasn't as true as it used to be. The last time he'd come to visit Joker had insisted that they go for a walk in the park, they'd ended up having a picnic. The time before that they'd played chess and somehow Joker totally destroyed him. It was a stark contrast to the first time when Bruce had come in to find Joker holding a knife to one of his carers throats. He'd always had to expect the unexpected with Joker, but now…
Things were just pleasant.
It was nice and all but it just wasn't the same.
Joker looked him up and down, though he couldn't see much. "Come here," he said quietly.
"What do you mean"
Joker made a strained noise as he moved himself in the bed, pushing himself to the opposite side, "Lay with me."
"What?"
"Just do it, please Bruce."
Bruce tentatively and awkwardly moved onto the bed, cringing a little at the warmth of the bed. Joker smiled at Bruce's reaction, letting out a tiny laugh and pulling himself to Bruce's side, hugging the man's still thick arm.
He was shaking as if he was cold, Bruce wrapped an arm around him and pulled the bed sheet tighter around him. He was so small, so frail.
Joker's breathing shallowed as he curled up beside him, as if he were calmed by him, as if he were falling asleep.
Bruce let himself relax, he could easily fall asleep here, next to his old enemy, his friend. His eyes drooped as he began to drift off, trying to ignore the now steady note of the heart monitor.
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