Disclaimer: I do not own the Joker or The Dark Knight! But I do own the plot to this story, SO DON'T STEAL IT!

Warnings: Slash (BoyxBoy relations), Blood, some violence, minor coarse language, minor suggestive themes, and some mild Rachel bashing.

Thoughts/Flashback

Emphasis/Title

"Talking"

The White Devil

Chapter 3

Jack giggled childishly as he slid, unnoticed to the snack table. His grip tightened on the small thing wiggling in his pocket and he bit his tongue to keep from bursting out laughing. Looking both ways to make sure no one was watching, he pulled the squirming creature out of his pocket and dropped it in the wine filled punch bowl. He watched it swim around for a bit before sinking to the bottom.

He suppressed another giggle and carefully and indiscreetly making his way to the far corner where he had a good view of the entire room. He brushed a few lose strands of messy hair out of his face before slipping a camera out that he 'borrowed' from another guest. He held it at the ready and watched as a particularly busty woman made her way to the wine bowl.

"Deviled eggs?" asked a waiter hired for the night. Jack did a hesitant double take, not wanting to miss a thing, and hastily waved the man off. "Deviled eggs? What, murdered and still couldn't make it into heaven?" He mumbled.

Jack watched with suppressed excitement as the woman filled up her glass and went to take a sip. His odd smile widened as she pulled the glass from her lips and stared in horror into the glass. "AAAGGHH!" She screamed, dropping the glass.

He snapped a picture a broke out into cracked laughter as the woman jumped around, trying but not succeeding at getting the poor creature out of her bra. "Snake, lizard, VERMIN!" She shouted.

By now most of the party had gathered around and were either watching with mild amusement or trying to help the panicking woman.

"AhahahaHAHAHAHOOOHAHOAHHA!" Jack laughed, gripping the wall for support. A few nearby guests backed away from him, clearly disturbed.

"Please, Ms, calm down!" A familiar voice called over the screams. This just made Jack laugh harder and soon he was hunched over on the floor, one hand still on the wall and the other clenching his gut. He heard someone stomp over to him and soon he was being lifted into the air by his collar, still laughing, and forced to face a familiar pissed off glare.

They stared at each other for a short while as Jacks hysterical laughter slowly died down to the occasional giggle.

Bruce gave him an angry and disappointed look. "Get out of here. Go to my room and stay there." He let go of Jacks collar and let him scramble to his feet. Jack stared with frightful eyes but his wide grin said otherwise. Bruce grit his teeth. "Now!"

Jack giggled and ran out of the large room, going completely unnoticed by the guests. His giggles echoed throughout the empty hall way and he soon arrived at Bruce's room. He slammed the door shut and dove onto the large bed, still giggling.

It took a few minutes for his strange giggles to die down to nothing. For a while he simply laid on his back and stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to get his thought process back in order. He licked his lips and frowned. What just happened?

He shifted uncomfortably on the soft sheets and stood up, grabbing the forgotten khakis and changing out of the itchy suit. He laid back on the bed clad in nothing but the pants and closed his eyes. Why did I…?

The door slammed open and shut, causing Jack to wince but he refused to open his eyes. Angry footsteps made their way to the bed and once again Jack was yanked from his current position by his shoulder and forced to meet Bruce's hard gaze.

"What the hell was that?!" Bruce half shouted, pointing in the ball rooms general direction.

"'That' was funny." Jack replied simply, staring into Bruce's dark eyes.

Bruce growled and tightened his grip on Jacks shoulder. Jack winced, he was sure he'd have bruises in the morning. Speaking of which, what time is it? He drifted off.

"Pay attention!" Bruce shouted.

Jack snapped back into reality and looked at Bruce frightfully. "How much?" Damn it mouth, stop talking!

Bruce growled threateningly and grasped Jacks other shoulder with his free hand. "Enough games. I want to know exactly what was going through your messed up little brain when you stuck a lizard in the wine."

Jack bit his lip, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. He brought a hand up and scratched lightly at the latex covering his scars. Messed up? What was I thinking? It seemed like fun at the time… But why…? Jack found the edge of he latex and tugged in a attempt to get a good grip on it. He bit his lip and risked a glance at Bruce who seemed to be losing his patients.

"I- …I don't know." He finally answered.

Bruce took a frustrated breath. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I just, I don't know okay!" Jack exclaimed, pushing at Bruce with his free hand.

"You have to know, you're the one that did it! Do you honestly expect me to believe you have no idea why you stuck a lizard in the wine then broke out laughing like some insane man!?" As soon as those words left his lips he immediately regretted it. Oh shit.

"YES!" Jack shouted. He grabbed a hand full of the irritating latex and ripped it all off in one go. "I don't know why I put a fucking lizard in the wine! I don't know why I replaced the cakes frosting with wood glue! I don't know why I took that man into the bathroom, shoved his head in the toilet then duck taped the lid shut! I DON'T KNOW!" He choked back a rising sob and when limp in Bruce's arms.

Bruce, unsure of what to do, released his bruising hold on Jacks shoulders and wrapped his arms around his waist instead. Great. Time to add a new title to the mix. Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, prince of Gotham, certified jackass. He felt Jack shiver against him and realized that the confused man was shirtless. Needless to say, this brought a profound blush to his cheeks. Did he shiver or shudder?

"I- Damn it. I'm sorry." Bruce apologized. He shifted Jack in his arms and stumbled towards the bed. Why am I apologizing? They collapsed on the bed, Jack still in Bruce's arms and clinging to him for dear life. Bruce glanced around awkwardly, still trying to decide what to do in the strange situation.

Okay, game plan Bruce. Drop the Joker, call the cops. Jack whimpered and mumbled something against the other mans chest. Bruce strained to hear what he was saying but soon gave up with a huff. He placed a hand on Jacks back, rubbing in soothing circles in an attempt to calm the ex-murderer. Damn it! My body's a double agent!

"Jack…I'm sorry. I shouldn't of yelled like that. I just want to know why you would do something like that." Bruce asked softly.

Jack looked up at him with glassy eyes, resting his chin on Bruce's chest. "Dunno. Hey Brucey?"

"Hm?" Bruce blushed at the nickname.

"Why are the lights dancing?" He gestured to the ceiling.

"What?" Bruce turned to look at the light himself but found nothing out of the ordinary. Confused, he gazed down at Jack who was now swaying his head as if going along with a beat.

"What are you talking about?"

"The liiiiiiights. They look so funny. Colorful." Jack giggled at this.

Was he on mushrooms or something before he got here? Bruce gripped Jacks chin and forced his gaze away from the lights. "Jack? Jack look at me. What are you talking about? Theirs nothing wrong with the lights."

"Jokes on you, the guts will spew! HAHAHAHAAAA!" Jack broke out laughing once more.

Okay, this is not good. Sooo not good. Is he relapsing or something? Wait, isn't that only in medicine? What if he had a concussion? Ohhhh, this goes beyond freaky! Bruce grasped the sides of Jacks face and rubbed softly over the hidden head wound. "Jack? Jack calm down. Look at me, theirs nothing wrong with the lights. Stop laughing and calm down."

Bruce was surprised once more when Jack complied. Instantly relaxing in Bruce's soothing hold and discontinued laughing, his smile never faltering. Okay, now what? Aww hell, I'll wing it.

Bruce removed his hands from Jacks face and placed them on his waist once more. "Okay, I want you to take a deep breath and lay back."

Jack did as he was told and laid back on the soft bed. Bruce shifted the other man so he was laying on the pillows and pulled the sheets back. "Good. Now relax. Try to sleep."

Almost instantly, Jack fell into a light sleep. Bruce softly slid the sheets over the sleeping man, careful not to wake him, and lifted himself off the bed. He quickly changed into some comfortable clothes before turning out the light and slipping unnoticed out of the room. Once safely in the hallway he leaned against the far wall and took a deep breath.

"Okay. Let me get this straight. I'm keeping a homicidal maniac who somehow lost his memory in my home and for some reason my body refuses to corporate with my brain and I've taking a liking to him." Bruce stared wide eyed at nothing in particular for a good while before pushing himself off the wall and walking down the hall.

"Well someone in this house is going insane and I hope to god it isn't me!" He threw his arms up in frustration.

"So he just fell asleep?" Alfred gave a skeptical look before throwing another piece of garbage in the trash.

"Yeah, it was so weird. Maybe he was just tired." Bruce crossed his arms and toed at a piece of discarded cake on the floor.

"Tired? You said he thought the lights were dancing. Either he's hallucinating or someone slipped something in the wine this evening." The aged butler joked, reaching for a broken piece of glass.

Bruce kicked the smashed cake and watched it slid an impressive distance across the room.

"Someone slipped something in the wine alright but it wasn't what your thinking of."

Alfred looked over to where the cake slid and glared at the long trail of frosting it left behind. Yes Bruce, continue making a mess. I'll just become an insomniac and clean all night. He reached for the mop leaning against the wall and began cleaning the area. "Did you ever stop to think maybe he was 'hallucinating'?"

"I told you, there was nothing in the wi-"

"I mean really hallucinating." Alfred cut off.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "What? You mean hallucinating like too much to drink or hallucinating like 'holy shit aliens are coming out of the electric socket'?"

Alfred gave Bruce an odd look before answering. "Err…the second one. Maybe he's just going insane…again."

Bruce's eyes widened at the thought. "You mean he could go back to being a homicidal insane knife obsessed lunatic but still not remember who he is?!" He uncrossed his arms and let them hang by his sides.

"I would believe so sir." Alfred straightened up and smiled approvingly at his handiwork.

"Well we've got to stop him! Can't we get him some medicine or something that'll stop all his hallucinations and breakdowns?" Bruce hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt and cleared his throat.

Alfred gave him a indescribable look and shook his head, sighing. "I'm sorry to say it isn't as simple as that sir. One must first figure out what ails him to get the proper medication. He needs to see a doctor anyway, we don't know the severity of his head wound."

Ails? Bruce gaped comically. "But no doctor in Gotham will see him! And if we do take him to a hospital the scars are a dead giveaway and he'll be thrown in Arkham for sure!" He fussed.

Alfred gave a small smirk before baring a face of false innocence. "But sir, I thought you wanted that filthy criminal locked up for good? If he has no idea who he is, wouldn't that make it all the more simpler?" He failed at hiding the smirk.

"Uhh…well I…" Bruce stuttered, wide eyed and gaping. "Well I- I do. It's just that… well wouldn't it be, you know… kinda mean to just lock him up with no idea why? I-I mean… he could stay here for a while. Just until he remembers that is. Then we can lock him up." Smooth…

Alfred chuckled knowingly. "Of course sir. Well, I suppose you could bribe one of the many doctors into checking the Joker out." He tapped his chin in thought.

"Jack." Bruce crossed his arms.

Alfred gave him a confused look. "Jack. Right, of course."

"So how much do you think he'll go for? I'm thinking 1,000 , 2,000 maybe?"

"I'll call and find out." Alfred hummed a tune and walked towards the door. "Oh and Master Bruce, you might want to check on 'Jack'. God knows how hell react to waking up in your bed."

Bruce stiffed at the thought and spun around. "I knew that! And don't go over 5,000! I'm not a Swiss bank!" He called, jogging out of the still messy ball room and down the hall.

Tired. Head hurts. Nose itches. Jack turned on his side and swung an arm over the side of the bed. Bed? Why am I…? Forget it, I'm hungry. He pried his eyes open and blinked a couple of times in an attempt to become fully awake before getting up. Yawning, he threw the covers off him and jumped off the bed, feeling refreshed and devious. Okay, find kitchen first, then find Bruce.

He ran out of the room in nothing but the beige khakis and set off on a hunt for the kitchen. Maybe he has dolphin meat… He giggled at the thought. After running into a couple of empty rooms and passing the same statue of a flower four times Jack ultimately decided he was lost. Again. "Oh well this is just dandy." He muttered sarcastically.

He came up to the flower statue once again and glared at it, wishing somehow it would become real just so he could step on it. "Who builds a statue of a flower anyway?" something occurred to him. "Who buys a statue of a flower?!"

"I like it." Someone announced from behind.

Jack stopped glaring and turned to face the opposing voice. "Yeah well its stu-" He cut himself off and watched as Bruce smirked at him.

Bruce walked up to the other man and placed his hand on his shoulder. Jack winced at the tender touch and pulled back slightly, not wanting anymore harm to come to his already bruised shoulder.

"Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be so rough." Bruce frowned and moved his thumb in soothing circles on Jacks already forming bruise.

Jack hummed lightly and leaned into the touch. "Nah, you had ever right to be angry. Sorry 'bout the lizard. And the other stuff…"

"Other stuff?" Bruce asked, confused.

"Ya know, the glue and the duck tape." Jack mumbled.

Glue? Duck tape? Suddenly it all came back to him. "Oh shit, is that man still in the toilet?!" Bruce removed his hand.

Jack whimpered at the sudden loss of contact and turned to face Bruce fully. "Mmmhmm." He smiled. "But he's probably drowned by now."

"What?!" Bruce's eyes widened to comical proportions. "Take me to him, NOW!"

Jack winced at the sudden outburst but suddenly got an idea. "Okay, what ever you say Brucey!" He grasped Bruce's hand in his own and ran full speed down the hall, dragging Bruce along.

"Wait, wait slow down!" Bruce shouted. Jack simply giggled and ran faster, blushing at the fact that they were holding hands. All to soon they arrived at the bathroom that held the man in question.

"Weere heeere!" Jack giggled once more and yanked the door open, reveling a disturbing sight indeed.

Bruce stared in horrified awe at the scene before him. An unidentifiable man was knelt over the toilet with the lid indeed duck taped shut. But that wasn't the horrible part, no. The mans spine was pulled out halfway at the bottom and the lid was splattered with blood, as if it had been used to repeatedly whack the man while his head was inside.

"J-Jack…what happened? D-did you do this?" Bruce asked, not believing the sight before him. Oh god. I thought losing his memory would stop things like this.

Jack smiled proudly. "Yep! Did I do good?"

Bruce looked disbelievingly at Jack and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. "Jack, the lizard was a prank, I understand that. But you can't- you can't do things like this. No more Jack."

Jack suddenly frowned, his scars twisting curling making him look like he wanted to smile but just couldn't. "But I thought, I did good."

"Why would you think something like this was good?" Bruce brushed some untidy hair out of Jacks face.

Jack looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.. "The voices. They tell me things. They don't like you. But I do! You have nice eyes."

Bruce blushed lightly at the sudden complement but shook it off, wanting to get back on track.

"What voices? What else do they tell you? Are they talking to you right now?"

"Mhhmhhhm. Telling me things. Sometimes they yell. But I don't listen! Not all the time…" Jack drifted off and shifted uncomfortably.

"Why did you listen to them now?"

Panic suddenly bore Jacks features and his breathing became unnaturally quick. "They said they would make me sleep. Then they'd make do things, bad things, like this to more people." He swallowed thickly and stared down at the hard tiled floor, his voice becoming quieter with every word. "I just figured one life wasn't much compared to a party's worth."

Bruce's features softened at the unsure words. Sighing softly, he gazed into the bloody bathroom and scrunched his nose up at the odd combination of salty medal and Clorox. "And you were right. Granted this is also unacceptable, you chose the lesser of two evils."

Jack looked up, green eyes brightening with unsure hope. "I don't like the voices." He whispered.

Bruce realized that they were still holding hands and used this to his advantage. He gave Jacks hand a light squeeze and pulled him towards himself. "What if I told you I could make the voices go away?"

Jack nodded eagerly, giving his own light squeeze. "Do I have to go to the doctors?"

God he's such a child.

Jack bit his lip, unintentionally becoming the poster child for adorable mental cases.

A fucking cute child. "No, the doctor will be coming to us. Okay?"

Jack smiled widely, discreetly pulling Bruce away from the gruesome scene. It was then that Jacks stomach growled. And rather loudly I might add. He placed his hand on his stomach and looked pleadingly at Bruce. "Can he come after you feed me? Or do I have to ransack your kitchen?"

Bruce gave a small smile, still a little wary from witnessing first hand the after affects of 'hearing voices. "I'm going to get you something to eat and then I want you to tell me what you were doing at the party in the first place."

"Okay! Can I have cheese?"

"You can have cheese if the recipe calls for it." Bruce answered, leading them away from the murder scene and to the kitchen.

"What's the recipe?"

"Well find out when we get there."

"How long 'till we get there?" Jack practically skipped down the hall.

"I don't know."

"It's your house, why don't you know?" Jack raised an eye brow.

"I don't generally time my trips from the bathroom to the kitchen."

"Okay."

They walked in silence for a while, still holding hands but neither willing to let go just yet. Jack turned to Bruce once more.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

Bruce's eyes widened at the unexpected question. "I'll tell you later."

Jack shifted so that their arms were now interlocked. Bruce blushed once more but didn't move away. He's been here less than a day and already I've been gang raped by emotions I didn't know I had.

Authors Notes

Special thanks to my Beta: Amanda Saitou!

Whoa! Sorry for the late update! I had Batman writers block. ^_^' The good news is I'm already halfway done with the next chapter! I realize I still haven't revealed the reason for the party but I will soon! XD

I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Please Review! They motivate me to write!