Waking up to find the Joker gone had left Bruce with mixed feelings of loss and relief. He tried to mask them, however, as Alfred arrived home, cheerful as ever, just after he finished scrubbing the last of the Joker's blood from the carpet.
When they finished catching up, Bruce decided, after some contemplation, to tell Alfred what had happened. He lived here, after all, and therefore had a right to know. This he told Alfred after retelling what had happened.
"If you want to move out, I understand." Bruce finished.
"But Master Wayne, oughtn't you be the one thinking about moving out?" He answered mildly. "Or at the very least installing better security?"
Bruce smiled grimly. "He said he wouldn't do anything." He said, as if that settled it. "I like it here. If I moved, it'd only be a matter of time before he finds me again. I- "
He paused. Did he trust the Joker, to some extent? Really? "I know him." Bruce corrected. "I know him better than most, anyway. He said he wasn't going to do anything and I believe he meant it. And anyway, he didn't break in; he knocked."
"With respect, Master Wayne, didn't you once say that one of the most dangerous aspects concerning the Joker was his unpredictability?"
"Yeah, I guess I did," He admitted. "But I'm going with my gut on this one, Alfred."
Alfred nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you did save his life, let's hope he keeps that in mind. And you could have easily turned him out or called the police, which I was about to ask; why the bloody hell didn't you?"
"Well, for one thing they'd ask the Joker why he was here, and what would he tell them?"
"Ah, yes, I see your point." They stayed silent for a few moments, reflecting.
Bruce resumed after a moment, "So if you do wanna leave I understand."
Alfred gave a little chuckle. "I've stuck with you through worse than this, Master Wayne. Besides, if you feel you can take the chance there's no reason why I shouldn't."
Bruce smiled, relieved.
"Did you tell him?"
Bruce looked up. "Tell who what?"
Alfred paused delicately, hunting for tact. "The Joker that, well, what's happened could very well be the end of the Batman."
"No." He said shortly. "He already knows that. But I don't think it is, Alfred. I really don't."
Despite this, Bruce knew it would be best for the Batman to lay low for a while. For the next few weeks at least, he would remain as he was, and only be the Batman if he really, really had to. Gotham wasn't completely helpless, after all. It had the police, the S.W.A.T team, plenty of other capable forces.
So when the Joker began his bank robberies again, as much as it pained him to admit it, the Batman did nothing. He told himself he wasn't needed; this sort of thing happened everywhere all the time, and most cities coped without vigilantes. For the Joker, these were only very mild acts of mayhem, but Bruce reckoned he was just getting started. That was what made him uneasy.
Bruce sat at the window of his penthouse, scanning the city's lights. "Alfred, am I doing the right thing?" he murmured.
Alfred set his tray down with a sigh. "To be honest, Master Wayne, I don't think there is a right thing in this situation. You're doing your best, and that's all Bruce Wayne and the Batman can do."
"Am I?" He stood up restlessly, frustrated. "I'm doing nothing. No-one's been seriously hurt so far, but what if this is some stunt the Joker's pulling for my attention? If it doesn't work he'll do something much worse. I can't have more people die because of me."
"Well, I don't see why the Joker would attempt to lure you out when he could just knock on the door." Alfred dismissed.
"The Batman, not me. There's a difference." He frowned, remembering how the Joker had asked him why he thought of it as a double life. Because it is,he thought, a little angrily. Because you were right; I do try to be like one of them, because I do know what happens when the chips are down, because I can't be a freak like you but I can't be a robot like them, or whatever they are, I don't even know. Because it is. Because it justis.
The Joker's knock on the door came only a few days later, around midnight. Bruce was still up, had had another rather restless evening. He'd answered the door quickly, already half-sure who it was. Who else would turn up without warning in the middle of the night?
"You haven't been out to play." The Joker said as soon as he got the door open. His eyes had a bright, mischievous look.
Bruce tried to shut the door, but the Joker stopped it easily with his foot.
"You know how things are. Gotham considers me as bad as you now."
"Oh, don't worry about it. They can afford to turn their backs on you when they think they're safe, when they think things are back to the way they were, but they'll want you back, you'll see. As long as there's a me, there's a you. Gotham'll need you again."
Bruce hoped that the relief he felt somewhere deep inside him wasn't showing. The Joker was only voicing aloud what he had been thinking himself, but it was reassuring to hear him say it, somehow. He was still the Batman. All of a sudden the maddening restlessness left him, and he knew that when the Joker left he'd have no problem getting to sleep.
"Not going to ask me in?" The Joker's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"No."
"Fair enough. I imagine your hospitality was stretched enough last time. Thanks for all that, by the way."
What popped into Bruce's head then also popped out of his mouth. "Who stabbed you?"
"I don't know!" He said, and laughed. "They had a clown mask on. Myclown mask, more's the pity. I was gonna take it back afterwards, but I didn't bother."
"Afterwards?"
"There was a little struggle. I won. I guess all our little fistfights really pay off, huh?"
This could go on all night. Bruce cut to it. "Why are you here?"
The Joker laughed. "See if you're still alive. You've missed a lot of fun. How long do you plan to hide away for?"
"I'm not hiding." He replied testily. "Will you go now?"
"Why, what're you doing?"
"Just go, will you? I can't have you here."
The Joker grinned, unoffended. "Fine." He took his foot off the door. "I'll see you in a few days." That got Bruce's attention, as he knew it would.
"Why, what're you going to do?"
"Nothing that big," He said vaguely, backing off a few steps in case Bruce went for him. "Just a little something to remind you who you are. I won't kill anybody." He added hastily, as if that made it alright.
"I don't w- "
"I bet you do, though. You haven't had stuff to do in ages, you must be going out of your mind."
Bruce could feel his irritation rising, mostly because the Joker was right. "I have a life outside of you, y'know."
That amused the Joker a great deal, and he only shut up when Bruce started to shut the door. "Ok, ok, but you do still want to be the Batman, admit that at least." He paused. "Y'know, in a way, you should be thanking me. I mean, if you didn't have me where would you go from here? How would you get back in Gotham's good books?"
"I don't need Gotham's approval."
"No, I guess you don't, but it'd be nice, wouldn't it?"
Bruce didn't reply.
The Joker's visit did little to upset Bruce Wayne's routine; he continued to spend his days convincing himself that no, he was not impatient to resume his enmity with the Joker, definitely not anticipating putting the suit back on and.. being himself again? No. Doing what he had to do.
No, he was perfectly happy the way he was, with his work, his money, attending parties and going on date after date, always new faces (he seldom went with the same girl more than once and, just recently, rarely even slept with them. The dates filled up just the amount of time he wanted to kill, so sex afterwards would be unnecessary, pointless, the orgasms nothing he couldn't get by his own hand), anything, anything to keep convincing himself that he did not need to be the Batman, that he did not do it for himself.
That was not it was about. Not at first, anyway. He wanted to help Gotham, be more a part of it than ever, to inspire others, to have no limits. It had all changed now. He would always have his excuses of justice, of making things better, but at the end of the day he simply loved the thrill of being Batman, and how much more satisfying it was than his other life.
Of course, it hadn't really changed; it had been like that all along, and he was simply more aware of it now.
He had once had a dream that the citizens of Gotham had found out who he was, had berated him for all he'd done, and the part he remembered most clearly was a man sneering at him, "You don't really care about Gotham, you just do it for the rush. You get off on it."
He did care about Gotham, he knew that much, but hadn't the man been right to some degree about the other things?
He wasn't a hero. He'd never be a hero, because he mostly did what he did for his own pleasure. He was the Batman because it was who he was. It suited him just right. He needed it just as much as Gotham did, if not more.
He hadn't thought, hadn't let himself think, that he needed the Batman, because he knew if that was true it almost meant he needed the Joker too. But then, if he acknowledged it to himself, accepted it, it would give the Joker no power over him. Gazing out at the town, he thought about the Joker.
True to his word, the Joker had the people wanting the Batman back in less than a week. Well, strictly speaking, one of them; Gordon. It was an emergency, he said; there was little time, and the people didn't need know. He wasn't in it for the glory, anyway. The Joker, fortunately, hadn't created too tragic an emergency. Tricking half the mob into robbing their own bosses, keeping the money, thus causing the building the money was kept in to start the timers of the bombs. Something along those lines. He felt out of touch. He never had been a man for taking time off. At least, he thought, the building had been evacuated. The Joker was probably hanging around, waiting for him.
The Joker was waiting for the Batman, on the roof where he could see everything. He had some..friendson the way, with their borrowedhelicopter, to pick up him and the money. He had been on the roof for almost half an hour now, and was getting bored. He didn't expect the robbery to draw the Batman out, it hadn't worked before, but maybe a bomb would. Maybe. After all, how could he resist checking that everybody had got out safe and sound? The Joker laughed a little, and kicked at some money halfheartedly, indifferently. He was considering throwing the money to the citizens below. He didn't want it, after all. He'd probably just buy more copies of his suit and make up and burn what was left.
He imagined the headlines, MADMAN GIVES CITIZENS MOB'S MONEY,or VILLAIN'S PENANCE?
He smiled at that one. Some things were just too funn-
The Batman took the Joker by surprise, coming up behind him and knocking him off his feet.
"OW. What-?" He looked up. "Oh, well finally. Still, better late than never, huh?"
"There's a bomb inside. One of the mob just activated it."
The Joker laughed. "They think of everything, don't they? Don't they just make you laugh though, blowing up a building when no-one's even in it?"
"We're on it though!"
The Joker laughed and threw money at him. He started walking backwards away from the Batman.
"This isn't actually what I had in mind when I said I'd see you in a few days, but oh well, you're here now, I won't have to bother with it. What made you show up?"
"People have been getting killed."
"Have they? I haven't been killing them."
"No, but your men have. I couldn't just do nothing."
"Of course you couldn't." He agreed. "Y'know what I've learned about these mob guys? They think they're different. You wouldn't believe it, but most of them think they're a better class of human and all -"
"Watch where you're going." Batman said irritably. He was backing towards the edge.
The Joker took no notice. "- they are is everybody's guilty pleasures, everybody's true colors. Now that'd be okay if that was what they were going for, but it's not. Y'see these guys, these criminals, they-"
"Watch where you're going!"
The Joker stood still and laughed at him, about two steps from walking on air. "Cool your jets, I'm fine. Nice of you, though. Didn't know you cared. Missed me that much?"
"Get away from the edge."
The Joker had clearly got bored of discussing mob philosophy. "I'll take that as a yes. I can sympathize, I've been pretty bored myself. I mean, just the other week I- "
"FREEZE!"
They both jumped. They both stared incredulously at the one cop.
"They sent you here all on your own?" said the Joker, with what sounded like genuine concern. "What, did you all draw straws or something?"
"I said freeze!"
"I'm not moving!"
"Officer," Batman interrupted. "I can handle this."
"Yeah, he actually does think he can, so let's encourage him. If you'll just- "
"You're both under arrest."
The Joker laughed delightedly. "Really? But what if I go one way and he goes another?"
The cop glared daggers at the Joker. "I have back up on the way."
"Yeah, and I- "
"Shut up." The cop came forward so he was opposite the Joker, both of them right by the edge.
The Joker looked at Batman in a bored way. He was tired of being interrupted. He may kill and steal and burn but at least he let people finish what they were damn well saying.
Batman caught the look in the Joker's eye and saw he didn't have much patience for the man.
"Look Officer, I- " He was interrupted by a large sound from inside the building, and immediately the ground beneath them began to tremble.
"What's the hell's that?" cried the cop.
"The first of the bombs." said Batman. "We have to- "
The ground beneath their feet shook violently, and suddenly parts of the roof began to crack. The edge broke away, leaving the Joker and the cop no time to scramble for safety.
Batman had been standing at more or less the same distance between the two of them. It had happened so fast, it couldn't be classed as a decision made by his conscious, rational thoughts but by his reflexes, his instincts.
He dived forward and caught the Joker's hand just in time, landing awkwardly on his stomach, winding himself. The pain momentarily weakened him. If it weren't for that, he could have easily hauled the Joker up with one hand. The cop, needless to say, fell to his death. Batman held on to the Joker's hand grimly, who was fortunately quite light.
The Joker gripped the Batman's wrist with his free hand, laughing. The Batman had let someone die to save him. The Batman had broken his one rule for him. He felt so alive. The drop below him meant nothing.
"Is it just me or is this a little familiar?" He laughed some more, feeling himself start to slip, not caring.
Batman grabbed at the Joker with his other hand, missed. Continuing to behave by his instincts with no interference from thoughts, the Batman threw himself after the Joker, managed to smash them both through the window of a neighboring building. Still hanging on to the Joker, Batman hit the wall and fell to the floor with a thud, where they remained for several moments, stunned but mostly unhurt.
The Batman came to to find the Joker still half leaning on him. He felt the warmth of his body and his hair touching his neck and didn't move.
The Joker raised his head slightly, dazed, going over what had just happened in his head. The Batman had just dived after him like with his precious Rachel. Maybe he had just died and imagined it?
He slid off the Batman carefully, and observed the building they'd just fallen from critically.
"Not much of a bomb, was it?" The Joker said in a conversational tone. "I thought those guys would prefer more of a big bang."
"Maybe they couldn't afford one." Batman said dryly, still not quite letting his brain filter what should be said and done and what shouldn't.
The Joker laughed and got to his feet, grabbing the Batman's hands and pulling him up with him. Batman yanked his hands free with a little more force than necessary. In the distance, approaching sirens could be heard.
"Well, thanks a lot. I think I'll just go.." The Joker backed off. He was going to leave him with a taunt of how he let someone die again, or how he was proving his point on how similar they were, but he changed his mind. There would be other times.
Batman made no attempt to stop him. Another mistake, but he didn't care. The damage was done. Just go he thought silently. You can tease me about the cop some other time. Justgo.
To his relief the Joker did go, without another word. Batman closed his eyes briefly, still feeling out of it. The brush with death, the fear, the relief, the coppery taste of panic on his tongue, the guilt and, despite everything, the fucking thrill of it all.
He was the Batman again, and he had the Joker to both thank and loathe for it.
He then felt a herd of more frightening thoughts crowd him, and pushed them back for later. The sirens were getting louder; like a villain himself, it was time to go.
Alfred listened to the younger man explain what had happened. "It was very fast." He said kindly. "You didn't have time to think."
"But doesn't that make it worse? If I had to choose between him and a, a decent citizen, deep down I'd want to save him? What does that say about me?"
Alfred regarded Bruce thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose, in a way, you are familiar with him, sir."
Bruce frowned, thinking about it. Alfred continued.
"You're a good man, sir. You're bright enough and experienced enough to understand that the Joker has doubtless suffered as much pain as he's caused. Also, without the Joker, without something to fear, Gotham doesn't exactly flourish, as we've learned. And without you, well, let's not even go there."
He looked at Bruce closely. "Do you see what I'm saying? Gotham may need you both, for better or worse. You knew this without having to think about it."
Alfred left Bruce alone. On his way out he said, "Don't torture yourself, Master Wayne. What's done is done."
Bruce leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, and Alfred knew there was nothing more he could say. He sighed to himself.
"Goodnight, Master Wayne."
Bruce would have been happy to leave it at that, but unfortunately his body didn't agree. He awoke that night in the middle of a disturbing dream with an erection. He breathed in shakily, remnants of the dream still echoing in his head, You just couldn't let me go, could you? He groaned, stiff and sweating, his heart racing.
What the hell is wrong with you? An interior voice demanded.
Just get it out of your system, another one argued. It doesn't mean anything.
I'm getting as crazy as he is, he thought grimly.
But still, his instinct took over.
He lay back down and slid his hand between his legs. He tried not to fantasize, tried helplessly to concentrate only on the sensations of his hand, but of course images flickered and framed behind his lids. The fantasy was too sweet to resist, and he gave himself up to it completely. Upon dropping the last of his self-restraint, he thought about how it felt to pin the Joker against a wall, the clash of their bodies when they fought.
He imagined how the Joker's tongue would feel against his own, how he could brush his thumb over those terrible scars, the feel of his hair and the wonderful heat between their bodies.
Bruce came into one hand, shoving the other against his mouth to stifle a moan.
God, he thought, getting over it. It was over an hour before he got back to sleep.