This was written a two in the morning and I got inspiration from the film 'The Proposal ' for this... somehow.
Batman threw a punch and missed. He might've been quick but the Clown Prince of Crime, the Joker, was one step ahead.
"Oh, all the familiar places." The Joker sneered in Batman's ear before throwing him to the floor. He crouched over the vigilante and pressed his knee into his stomach pinning him onto the concrete.
"Y'know this is getting kinda tedious Batty, you really should change the record." The Joker stuck his elbow into Bruce's chest and leaned on it not caring about Bruce's comfort- or the lack of it.
"Brucie I- yeah I've known it was you for a while not exactly hard to, uh, tell but that's not it. I was gonna say that at one point, I was like you." The clown drawled. Bruce tried to move his arms to shove the psychopath above him off but found his forearms immobile. He looked over to his left hand and found it had been stapled to the concrete with- what looked like- a giant staple. The Joker eased up off the vigilante a little.
'When the hell did that happen?' Bruce thought as he looked back up at the clown who was continuing to drawl on about some complete bullshit.
"… but my mother didn't like that, she didn't like the idea of someone dreaming big while she was a failure." He seethed.
"Your mother didn't like what?" Batman asked with half genuine interest.
"And he hasn't been listening. Why do I always find myself talking to walls? Always!" The Joker growled murderously. "You know," that pink tongue darted out, across his lips and back into that lie spewing cave, "people like you are the number one reason I am like this." He shifted so he was only straddling the bat. "As I was saying, one day I go out onto the street and I try my luck at fighting a criminal-like you do- and anyway, he breaks my arm and leg and leaves me on the street. Luckily I was found by a doctor and they took me to the hospital. When my mom came to get me did I get a, 'Oh my goodness how did this happen?' or a, 'My goodness J, are you okay?' no I got a, 'You stupid little brat! I could've had another drink if you hadn't've got in this mess. I hate you!' I then had to leave the hospital without a wheelchair or anything like that because my mother's a bitch." He paused for a moment and sighed with a few traces of laughter littering it.
"In the car with my half intoxicated mother, I tried to explain myself. I tried to tell her how I had tried to be a hero and stop a criminal." He chuckled a little but it wasn't his usual manic cackle this was the kind that people do before they burst out into tears. Was the clown about to cry?
"She said to me, 'If you had been a real hero, you wouldn't've been in the hospital, you'd've been in the morgue.' I mean, who says that to their twelve year old son? My bitch-of-a-mother that's who." Once again the Joker leaned on Batman's chest making the Kevlar plate cut into his skin. But Bruce ignored this he was now under the clown's spell.
"So y'know what I did?" The Joker asked. Bruce blinked and furrowed his brow which the Joker couldn't see under the cowl.
"When my arm and my leg healed, I took a knife to my mother and I carved her face into a smile. She was unconscious at the time a doubt she felt a thing. Y'know why I did it? Hmm? Because I just wanted her to be happy for me! I then plunged the knife into her chest repeatedly until her pulse… stopped… dead."
Joker paused for a moment to let all of that sink in.
"Then, I realised, I never smile. I should be smiling! The one person who's made my life a living hell is finally dead and I can't even smile! Maybe I should be. I carve my own face. But now I realise that was a mistake. I can't stop smiling. Even when I think back to all those times my dead mother abused or neglected me, I can't even grimace. There's really nothing to smile about is there? Is there Batsy?" He grinned down at the caped crusader leeringly.
"You seem awful quiet Bruce. Is this all too much for you?" The Joker asked tauntingly.
Bruce didn't know what to think to be honest. It all seemed pretty legitimate to him as all the psychological puzzle pieces fit together so well. The abusive mother, the destroyed dreams all spiralling him down to a point of pure hatred and rage that he used the only method of ridding one's source of unhappiness- murder.
"Hmm? C'mon, speak up." The Joker's voice was high pitched like a school teacher demanding an explanation for the graffiti on her table.
"Is any of that true?" In all honesty, Bruce did believe the story a little. The clown leaned down 'til they were cheek to cheek and his hot, rancid breath was pouring right into Bruce's ear.
"If I'm honest…" He paused. "No." He whispered. The Joker broke into a fit of laughter and leapt up off the now enraged Batman and taunted him to get up. One of the staple-things popped out of the concrete, flying pasted the makeup clad maniac and clattering to the floor further away. Bruce tore the other one up and sprinted off after the clown. How dare he make the great Batman listen to a bullshit story! How dare he make him feel sorry for him! He swore an oath there and then that if he killed the clown he wouldn't be allowed to cry for him afterwards and if he did he'd commit himself to Arkham.
The Joker howled with laughter as he ran dodging all in his path. He couldn't understand why Batsy was so upset. It was only a story after all. A fictional one at that…. Or was it?
Enjoy it? Sorry about the crappy title by the way, I'm never good at them! .