Chapter Three
Fallen
Bruce Wayne was frantic, pacing back and forth in his room to the door leading outside of it and doubling back just as soon as his hand reached the knob. He didn't know what to do. The breaking news story he had just seen featured another of the Joker's sick home-made video clips, live from Arkham Asylum. The reason they'd allowed him to shoot it was because he had taken a young doctor hostage, having carved the words "break your one rule" into his chest, no doubt with the bloody pen he was still holding closely to the man's throat.
Joker had insisted in his taunting, malicious way that if the Batman didn't come by for tea at noon that very day, he would kill the doctor and anyone else who tried to come between them.
"I know that you're wanted by other men besides myself, now," the Joker had said with a dark chuckle, his glinting eyes boring holes into the camera. "But you'll just have to brave the dangers that be to come and see me. I'm sure you're as eager as I am to continue the little talk we were having the last time we met. You've had some time to think about what I said and I'd like to hear your, ah, thoughts on the matter. Hahaha... And Batman..." He grinned deviously, scars spreading up his cheeks. "To get to me, you're going to have to break your one, silly, pointless, little rule." He shook the petrified doctor, yanking open the man's torn shirt so as to make his message clearer. "Those cops aren't going to let us be together without a fight, but I trust that you'll come out on top. So, come and get me, Bats. Do be careful, and make your own luck, as our dear friend Harvey used to say." Maniacal laughter echoed throughout the cell as the camera went black.
If Bruce did as the Joker demanded, he'd be a sitting duck for the police at Arkham and they'd find out who he really was. Then, both Bruce AND Batman would be in jail for a very long time. But he didn't want the deaths of any more people blamed on him by that demonic clown. He knew none of them had ever been his fault and if he ignored the Joker's request this time, no more would be. But that wasn't good enough for him.
Bruce sighed, running long fingers through his thick, dark hair as he went to retrieve the Batsuit from its resting place.
"He's coming, he's coming, he's coming, he's coming..." the Joker was chanting in a sing-song voice, hopping up and down on his heels. Dr. Arthur, who had been dressed in the Joker's straitjacket and affixed to his chair, had lost consciousness some time ago. Perhaps it was the bleeding? The Joker spun the chair around wildly, causing the blood-deprived man's eyes to roll in their sockets and flutter painfully.
"Wake up, Doc!" Joker taunted him, laughing hysterically. "You're missin' out on all the fun!"
Police lying in wait outside the locked glass door had attempted to break it open, but ceased immediately when the Joker held the doctor in front of himself and threatened to plunge the pen into his jugular vein. All attempts at talking nice to him were ignored.
He could see it all now: Batman bursting through the doors like a black ball of fire, beautiful, sparkling shards of glass falling upon everyone like rain. He would grab the Joker and take him away from all this; he would save him from the endless misery and boredom of Arkham. It would be so much more cathartic than merely breaking out of his cell and sneaking away into the night alone. Always alone.
The Joker smacked his lips and tsked. It really was too bad he didn't have his makeup on; he so wanted to look pretty for his Dark Knight after such a long time apart. Soft giggles bubbled from his lips at the silly thought. He only meant it a little, really...
Dark green eyes flicked to the clock; it was already ten to twelve.
"Uh-oh, Doc," Joker said to the comatose man, dark pink tongue snaking out to swipe at his lips. "If Batman's late for our little tea party, I'm going to have to, ah, disinvite you."
He almost hoped Batman would be just a tiny bit late. He'd never killed anyone with a pen before and he wondered if it would hold up better than a pencil. He studied the instrument, twirling it around in his jittery fingers. It was sticky with the doctor's dark red blood. He was debating on whether to stab it through Arthur's eye and into his brain or down the back of his throat when all of the lights in the building suddenly shut off. From some distance away, the other inmates could be heard making a fuss in their cells (the entire place was in lockdown due to the Joker's little prank), and the police outside of the room began to mutter to each other in agitated tones.
"Joker, did you do that?" One of them called out cautiously.
"Not me, friend," The Joker replied easily, voice tinged with amusement. "For once, I am innocent."
"No, you're not," a familiar voice growled softly into his left ear. Chills of excitement and joy ran up the Joker's spine. He had to cover his own mouth to suppress a jubilant shout and the inevitable burst of laughter that would follow it. Batman had finally come for him!
It had been difficult to get to Arkham-or anywhere at all-while wearing the Batsuit. He'd driven as far as he could down quiet back roads before being forced to hide his nondescript, black sedan (its one luxury being tinted black windows) behind an abandoned apartment complex less than half a mile away from Arkham. He was glad the institution wasn't situated in the thick of the city but he still prayed that no one messed with or tried to swipe his car while he was away from it.
Bruce had snuck into the building by way of the laundry room and once there, had swiftly climbed up into the vents. After he'd pinpointed the Joker's location (the sound of the man's loud, incessant cackles reverberating through the walls was a great help), he made his way to the boiler room, which he had passed once in a previous visit to Arkham as Bruce Wayne to check up on the building's accommodations. Once there, he placed a timed bomb over the electrical switches and crawled back through the vents to find the Joker. Once the lights went out, he silently jumped down from the vent and into the room, quickly checked the doctor's pulse (which was slow but steady) before stepping without a sound behind the madman himself. He was very grateful for the night vision installed into the eyes of his mask.
Bruce's heart was racing so fast and hard, the thought crossed his mind that the Joker could possibly hear it beating in the darkness. The way the other man jumped at the sound of his voice told him he had not heard anything else before that. He was baffled as to why Joker seemed so excited to be caught by him but he didn't have time to ruminate on it. The police had decided to take matters into their own hands and were doing a very poor job of trying to quickly and quietly unlock the door.
"Now, there's a Bat man," the Joker whispered, his grin leaking into the words.
"Keep quiet. You're coming with me," Batman intoned forcefully into the Joker's ear. The other man had leaned back slightly so that his head was almost resting on Batman's shoulder, which he found rather disturbing. The winged hero moved back a couple of steps and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. As the cold metal snapped with the slightest clicking sound over the Joker's wrists, he could feel him shudder.
"Ooh, Bats. Handcuffs in the dark? Kinky," Joker purred, affecting a flirtatious tone. Bruce's eyebrows furrowed deeply underneath his mask; he would not even attempt to reply to that. The Joker was behaving quite strangely, even for him. What had they done to him in here?
Batman dispassionately lifted the smaller man over his shoulder and spirited the both of them up into the vents, just as the police burst into the room with flashlights blazing and weapons at the ready. After resealing the opening, he quickly made his way back to the laundry room, dragging the Joker alongside him by the arm. The clown had the good sense not to make a sound while they made their escape, allowing the other man to lead him to his car and toss him unceremoniously into the back seat before he finally allowed himself to laugh, loudly.
"Oh! Oh, Bats, that was... beautiful, inspired! That was something else!" he managed to get out in between guffaws. "You are something else, my friend. They had no idea! They just, they just-idiots! Don't you just love it?!"
"Shut up, Joker," Batman ground out, glancing at the other man in the rearview mirror as he drove. He was sprawled comfortably over the plush seating, looking over his surroundings. Despite its commonplace exterior, the sedan was outfitted inside with many sophisticated, computerized devices.
"Well, well, Batsy. This is almost as nice of a toy as your other little..." he squinted, searching for words. "Bat mobile."
"How did you know what it's called?" Batman growled at him suspiciously.
"You mean you really call it 'the bat mobile'?" Joker mocked the term, laughing incredulously. Batman frowned.
"Shut up, Joker."
They drove on in silence for some time, the Joker appearing to look peacefully out of the tinted window. He seemed very comfortable despite the tight handcuffs he still wore. Batman was unable to keep himself from continuously checking on him in the rearview to make sure that he wasn't up to any mischief. It was very strange, seeing the Joker without his makeup on. He was not unpleasant-looking. Aside from the garish scars he looked almost normal, like any other flesh-and-blood man. But Bruce knew that he wasn't. He was his own breed of monster, a super criminal with absolutely no grip on reality and he wouldn't allow himself to forget that.
Batman hadn't made any plans beyond getting the dangerous man out of Arkham; he hadn't had the time. He supposed he'd have to take him to the Bat Cave-although he really didn't want this man anywhere near his home-and make sure to blindfold him before getting too close. It wasn't the most satisfying idea by any means, but what else was he going to do with him? He couldn't just drop him off in a strange town, leave him there and hope he wouldn't find his way back to Gotham. If only something so simple would work.
"Aren't you glad we're friends now?" the Joker murmured in a small voice. Batman's eyes darted to the rearview mirror, his breath catching in his throat; the other man was still looking out the window, a small smile playing at his lips. If he hadn't had the scars and silver bracelets on, Bruce would have sworn he looked... innocent, harmless. Untrustworthy, to the highest degree. He narrowed his eyes at the Joker, who surprised him by suddenly returning his gaze.
"I am." Joker lowered his head slightly, looking up at him through dark blond eyelashes. His expression had fluidly changed from one of innocence to one of intense focus but the wistful smile still held. "I missed you, Batsy."
Bruce scoffed at the absurdity of the claim, determined to ignore his nemesis's manipulative prattle.
"Really, I did," the Joker insisted, almost whining. He sighed and changed his position, sitting up straight with one leg crossed over the other. "You don't believe me, do you? Or..." he leaned forward, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "You feel the same way, and you just don't want to admit it."
Bruce felt the blood run cold in his veins. Was this some sort of a trick? He was pretty damned sure that the Joker was indeed being... coy with him. He knew that it was some bizarre attempt to get him to drop his guard so that he could gain his freedom. Well, it wouldn't work.
"And I think that you missed me, too," the clown went on in that same soft tone. "You did come to get me, after all..."
"I came to save those poor people from you, not to save you, you-you lunatic!" Bruce was getting frustrated, which irritated him. He didn't want the Joker to think he was getting under his skin. The other man raised his eyebrows, letting his mouth drop open in a parody of being offended.
"Did I strike a nerve, Batsy?" he asked derisively, tongue swiping out to stab at his lips. "'Those poor people', hah! Do you know how little they care for any of the patients in that hellhole? Huh? Do you know what they put them through?"
Bruce was surprised at the conviction in the other man's voice. It was the most empathetic thing he'd ever heard him utter.
"You care about the other patients at Arkham?" he tried, voice low and gently probing. The Joker sat back, seemingly astonished at the thought. He laughed the question off and shifted his position again, putting up his hands in mock submission.
"All right, let's not get off on the wrong foot here, so to speak." The pointed tongue swiped across his amused mouth. "No use fighting like, haha, bats and dogs, eh?"
He paused, apparently waiting for Batman to laugh. Bruce sneered at him and exhaled through his teeth. The Joker scowled, pouting.
"No sense of humor," he muttered.
"Joker, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but let me make this crystal clear: we're not friends, we're not working together... we're not even in the same category of humanity. Get it?"
The Joker was silent for a long moment, convincing Bruce that he had hit home somewhere in that off-kilter brain of his. He allowed himself a small, triumphant smile. The Joker began to shift around in the backseat; Bruce's glance in the mirror revealed that the man had pulled a deck of cards out from somewhere in his simple, hospital-issue attire and was shuffling them expertly in spite of his cuffed wrists.
"Hm. How about poker buddies, then?" He grinned up at Bruce's fearsome glare. "Do you play?"
"Shut up, Joker," Batman growled tiredly. This was going to be a long ride.
As they got closer to Wayne Manor, Bruce pulled the car over and slid into the backseat beside the Joker, who feigned surprise.
"Couldn't stand the guilt, hmm? Is this your way of apologizing? Ya want a hug? Well, it'll be a little hard with these cuffs on..."
Bruce sneered at him behind the mask, dark eyes stony. He wordlessly removed a black section of cloth from a compartment behind the front seat and wrapped it around the Joker's eyes, tying it tightly at the back of his skull. The Joker smacked his lips beneath the blindfold.
"Should I ask why you keep a blindfold in your personal vehicle?" he queried, not expecting an answer.
He didn't get one as Batman returned to the front seat and continued to drive the rest of the back way to Wayne Manor. He knew the Joker couldn't see a thing through that blindfold, having tried it on himself once to test it, but he couldn't help feeling inexplicably tense as he parked the sedan in front of the secret entrance to the cave. He always had to remain on guard around this most dangerous of criminals.
He got out of the car and went around it to open the door, yanking his captive roughly out of the vehicle and dragging him along into the cave behind him.
The Joker meekly allowed Batman to pull him along, taking in his new surroundings with his remaining senses. He noted that the air was chill but dry and smelt of metal, rubber and coffee. He could hear the faint hum of more than one computer running as well as the burbling of a kettle. Batman halted his step and the sharp tapping of someone walking briskly towards them in a nice pair of shoes grabbed Joker's attention.
"Welcome back, sir," the man greeted Batman in a prim, Queen's English accent. "Is there anything I can get for you and your... guest?"
"And good day to you, my good man!" The Joker imitated the man's accent quite loudly (and rather poorly). "Care for a spot of tea, then?" he managed to spit out before dissolving into a fit of explosive laughter that hit him so hard he could barely breathe, arm hanging in Batman's firm grip as he helplessly drooped to the floor in his great mirth.
"...Quite," the man intoned, unamused.
"No, I think we'll be just fine, but would you mind checking my messages for me?" Batman said meaningfully, carefully avoiding speaking the man's name aloud.
"Of course, sir. Do be careful," he warned Batman as he departed, shiny black shoes clicking away.
"Yes, do be careful with the man in handcuffs! Wouldn't want him to do any damage to poor, defenseless Batman, would we?" The Joker called after him, half in jest, half in anger.
"Don't underestimate yourself," Batman told him dryly.
"Too kind," Joker returned. "Hey, you wouldn't mind loosening these things up or anything, would ya, Bats? They're kind of cramping my style." More giggles.
Batman didn't answer him. Instead, he pulled the other man to a small room in the left corner of the cave that he had fashioned into a sort of impromptu bedroom for late nights or very early mornings when he was too tired to meander through the enormous mansion to his own room. The little space also doubled as a bomb shelter, so he was fairly confident that the Joker would at least experience a great deal of trouble should he attempt to escape.
Once again, the Joker allowed himself to be led by Batman, gulping in surprise as he was thrust down onto a simple cot (mattress and sheets only; Bruce had thought to remove the metal frame from the room prior to picking up his prisoner). When the door was securely closed behind them, Batman yanked the Joker's blindfold from his face, assaulting the man's eyes with a sudden onslaught of bright, fluorescent light. He squinted, rubbing at his eyes with his cuffed hands.
"Ooh," he grunted, looking around the plain quarters painfully. "Nice digs, Bats. We're not sharing this room, are we?"
Bruce sneered at him.
"Get comfortable, because you're going to be spending a lot of time in here until I figure out what to do with you." He removed a small key from his utility belt. "Now, when I unlock these cuffs, you'd better not try anything funny. Because I'll tell you right now, it isn't going to work. You're in my house now."
"Cross my heart and hope to die," Joker replied eagerly, sticking out his reddened wrists. The cuffs really were very snug.
Batman studied him for a moment, eyes boring into the other man's (who then mimicked his expression back at him) before slowly unlocking the handcuffs and removing them. Bruce felt a brief tinge of guilt as he noticed angry, red lines indented around the Joker's wrists. The clown stretched out his arms and wiggled his fingers.
"Gee, thanks, Batsy," he said, convincingly sincere.
Batman merely snorted back. He was reluctant to leave the room. It felt as though there was an invisible rope running out from him and into the Joker. It was an unpleasant feeling, an accompanying large knot of worry and dread filling up his chest. If he left the Joker alone, the connection would sever and then he'd not be able to sense whether or not the man was going to do anything dangerous. He knew he'd be tormented by anxiety at the uncertainty of the situation if he was too far away, rather than relieved by the distance between them.
"So," the Joker started jovially. "How about that card game?"
Batman ignored him and rose from his seat, ready to leave. He was startled when the Joker reached out in a very swift motion to grab one of his wrists. His shock allowed the weaker man to pull him in close. Joker didn't say anything, his face grim save for those ever-smiling scars.
"Well, what is it?" Bruce asked cautiously. The unpredictable man was making him nervous.
"I, ah," the Joker lowered his eyes, the gesture almost self-conscious. "Could use some company. Been locked up for a while, y'know."
"You were only in Arkham for two weeks," Batman said incredulously, just holding on to his disguised voice. Joker met his eyes again, his own green ones dancing merrily.
"Thanks to you, Bats." He grinned. He smacked his lips and tilted his head to one side thoughtfully, eyes trained on Batman. "D'you remember the last time we were together? Up on that old building, when we had that illuminating little chat?"
Bruce wondered where the hell he was going with this line of thought. Was this a sly opening before he made a move for revenge?
"Yeah," Joker said, as if Batman had answered affirmatively. "Ya give any thought to what I said?" he probed gently but expectantly.
"What was there to think about in that trail of madness?" Bruce asked honestly.
Joker forced a chuckle, his tongue intermittently swiping at his lips. He was focused on Batman's eyes intently, as if to bore his way into the other man's head. He was dead serious now.
"You and I, Batman. We're like two sides of..." he put up a hand to Bruce's obvious anger at what he knew he was going to say. "Like two of a kind. We may come from different places, may have different experiences, may have different motives in life, but," he paused, licking his lips. He was excited, the words dropping out of his mouth more quickly as he went on. "But we react to things in the same way. We act before others react, pure instinct, pure smarts, pure strength. We don't need to stop and think about something that isn't there to begin with!" He jabbed a finger to his head. He was almost too exhilarated to continue, he had to catch his breath. "Purity. D'ya see? If you weren't bogged down by petty morality and the wrongful guilt imposed upon you by this decadent society..." he let out a sharp breath and smiled, yellowed teeth glinting. "We'd be the same man."
"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Bruce growled, baffled by this insanity the Joker was spewing forth at him. The other man bounced in his seat, his grin nearly ear-splitting.
"Yes! Yes, you should've! You see? If you had broken that stupid rule, you'd break through everything! You could be more than I ever was!" He was practically shouting now. The anger had exited Bruce's body in a long, quiet sigh. He began to pity the other man; he could see that he truly believed in the nonsense he was uttering.
"Bats, I knew it the first time I laid eyes on you," Joker breathed. "I knew you..."
"Joker," Bruce stopped him, his voice firm but tired. "You fought death tooth and nail the entire way. Why would you want me to have thrown you off of that building?"
The Joker's dancing green eyes lit up his entire face as he fixed Batman with an expression of awe.
"Because you are the only man on this Earth who is worthy enough to destroy what I am, to stand in my place and make it even better. Bats!" He laughed genuinely, throwing up his hands. "Y'know, I liked you before, but it was when you threw me off of that scaffold that I fell for you!"
Bruce shook his head against the Joker's wild, echoing laughter. Silently, he rose and exited the room, bolting and sealing the door behind him by pressing a code into the wall beside it. There was no saving this man from himself. It was then that Bruce realized he had wanted to save him in the first place.
