A/N: Alright, I've been itching to write a Joker!Fic, and now I finally have my break. A thanks to a fellow writer for inspiring me. She writes The Cake Games, so I advise you go an read it. This will definately be the shortest chapter, as it is somewhat of a backdrop for the plot and setting of my story.

It revolves around the Joker's obsession with the Batman, that slowly twists into a sick form of unrequited love. Now he'll do anything to get what he wants; including his biggest scheme of all. After all, life is just one big joke.

Disclaimer: I don't, and never will, own Batman.

WARNINGS: This story contains scenes of graphic violence, scenes of rape, of explicit sex, and male/male relationship.
This fic also holds disturbing content regarding the Joker and his persona.

Prompt: "I believe that whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you...Stranger."

The white-washed walls of Arkham Asylum were never a welcoming sight, especially not to the Joker. His fourth time gazing upon those annoying fluorescent walls, and they just seemed to get brighter and brighter with each visit. Hell; if you weren't crazy when you entered the place, you would be once you left. With the addition of the ridiculously bright lighting fixtures, each room made the Joker lose his train of thought; always having to wrack his brain to remember what he had been thinking about prior to entering the new location. It was so frustrating, so off-setting. It drove him absolutely mad that he couldn't keep a single thought in his mind. But two days turned into two weeks, and the Clown Prince found his fingers itching for blood. All because of those god-forsaken walls...

He just needed a plan. Well, he had a plan. He just needed the opening to go through with it. And when you were the Joker, there was always an opening. Said opening came that year on the fifth Tuesday of September, on the last day of the month...

The guard outside of his cell had allowed him to perform a magic trick when he brought the Joker his supper.

Smoke billowed into the air, fire licking its way toward the heavens as the Joker cackled, skipping away from the explosion. Batman had yet to find him, and the Joker was becoming desperate. Had the mammal missed the six o'clock news? The Joker's escape was all over every channel! How could anyone miss it? The thought of his beloved Bat missing the central news... Oh; the agony! It irked him to no extent! The Bat Man's attention was supposed to be on him! He was the most important criminal, was he not? He was the most infamous (A title he in which he worked very hard for to uphold)! When he did not show for the second murder, the Clown Prince came desperate to capture the attention of his favorite vigilante. This time, his plan was fool-proof.

Spread across the wide main street in downtown Gotham was a burning brand of the Bat Signal on the concrete, created by gasoline, and a nearby explosion (So maybe that was going a little over the top, but hey- it was something to do). Spawning off of the signal was another sign, a large- and a rather elaborately drawn- J, with an arrow pointing south-ward. The police would leave it to the Caped Crusader to capture the Clown, and then arrive to haul him off. That was how it always worked.

The Joker wasn't kidding when he said that they would cast the Bat Man out- like a leper- when they no longer required his help. With every criminal slowly being locked behind bars, the statement rang more true. Gotham only needed their Dark Knight for so long...

Not twenty minutes later, and the Joker heard a familiar fluttering of material wings. His eyes slid closed as his tongue wet his lips, anticipating the Bat's move. No sooner had he smacked his lips, when he felt a swift kick to the back of his head, sending him off hurtling toward the concrete. The Clown laughed, shaking his head twice to restore his now-fuzzy vision. "Ahaha... What have I told you about hitting the head first, Bats?" He put a hand on his knee and pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly before righting himself. "It makes people all... Disoriented."

"Good. That makes my job easier." Replied Bruce from beneath his mask, aiming another kick for the Joker's face, who ducked beneath his leg in a clumsy dodge, nearly losing his balance.

"Using the same trick twice? Ahaha, boy you must be losing your touch!" A laugh laced with hysteria escaped red lips, before he felt a fist connect with his chest, causing him to hit the wall with an 'oof!', before he began keeling over, tears rimming his eyes from laughter. "Oh, Batsy, baby! I think you really a-" he coughed and began speaking through guffaws and gasps for air as a hand closed tightly over his windpipe. "-are losing it! Ahahaha!"

The Bat leaned closer, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "If I'm losing it, then why do I keep having to toss you behind the bars of Arkham every two weeks?"

The Joker's hands clutched at the gloved wrist before his throat, struggling to pull it away. He really couldn't breathe now. As if on cue, he felt his body slammed to the ground, air speeding to his lungs too quickly, causing him to choke. In his own defense, however, the Clown Prince spoke, leaning his back against the wall as he sat up, massaging the angry red mark about his pale neck. "That's some grip ya' got..." He said beneath his breath before rolling his head, eyes set on the mammal before him. "I told ya' before. You complete me, Bats." He shifted to get comfortable, licking over his lips, dark green eyes fixated on the ice blue beneath the mask just inches from his face.

"Without you, what would I do? I thought I made it clear when I said that I wouldn't go back to ripping off drug dealers. No, no, I would never sink that low-"

"You're as low as they come."

The Joker ignored the interruption. "And besides, you can't afford to have me locked away forever. You-" he tapped at his own chest with both hands roughly, leaning forward. "You need me around. I keep you busy, keep you in top shape. Without me, you'd be cast out like a freak, because deep down, that's all you really are- like me. We're freaks, and when society learns that you're no better than I am, they'll come after you, and lock ya up. We can share a cell! Just think abou-- uhn!"

A fist pummeled into the Joker's jaw, and a satisfying crack resounded in the alley. Inhaling painfully, the Joker's eyes tried to focus themselves once again as the Batman grasped the material of his green vest, getting in his face. "We're nothing alike. The only freak here is you. You're out of your mind if you think for one second that I won't hesitate to kill you--"

"Ah, but you haven't yet, have you?"

Both males sat in silence as the Joker's words sunk in. Bruce stared in shock at the clown before him, who was slipping in and out of consciousness, most likely from the blow he suffered to the head. As much as he hated to admit it, the Joker was right every time he brought that up. The Bat Man had not killed him, and never would. Damn his belief about the 'good in everyone'. What good was there to this monster before him? There couldn't be anything... He wasn't even human, was he? No; he definitely was not. No human being could possibly be as out of their mind as the Joker was. It just went against the grain as far as human nature and human tendencies went.

But as he observed the Clown Prince, he saw the pain in those fluttering emerald eyes, he felt his heart tighten. What if the Joker was more human than he thought? He did not allow himself the time to linger on the thought as he heard approaching footsteps, General Gordon's voice filling his ears as he ordered his men to spread out to find the Joker. Batman drew away from the now-unconscious male and cloaked himself in the shadows, retreating to the rooftops to observe the scene. All the while, the Joker's words weighed heavily on his mind.

Would it really be that difficult to just kill the Prince of Puns?

Yes. Why?

Because as much as Bruce hated to admit it, the Joker was, in fact, a human being beneath a mask, just like himself. Batman had a purpose thanks to people like the Joker. In some strange way, he felt that he owed it to the Clown Prince to spare his life each and every time.

And each time the Joker found himself lying awake in Arkham Asylum, surrounded by those god-damned white-white walls, his obsession for the Bat grew into something he was having trouble controlling. He was slowly becoming desperate, having dreams about him, hallucinating about him... He needed the Bat Man. It was rapidly developing into something unhealthy, something... Strange.

In the darkness of his cell, the Joker laughed, the sound ringing throughout the empty hallways.

"I'm coming for you, Batsy!"

A/N: Well, there you have it. The prologue. I feel so bad about not being able to update The One You Love To Hate, but I just don't have the inspiration at the time. I hoep you guys enjoyed, and please, please, PLEASEEEEE review!