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 4
"So uh, Alfred is it?"
Alfred's sweeping came to a sudden halt and his hands gripped the broom stick tighter. He took a sharp breath before answering. "Indeed it is. Do you need anything master Jack?" The day he becomes my master is the day my big British ass turns blue. He grimaced.
Jack took a big bit out of his pizza and munched on it loudly. "Can I call you Fred?"
Alfred's eye twitched with every loud squish of pizza. "I'd rather you not." He resumed sweeping.
Jack took another unnecessarily large bite out of the pizza and chomped on it. "Mhat dimt dis mit?" He asked with a mouthful of dough.
"Excuse me?" The older man questioned.
Jack swallowed thickly and winced as the large chunk stretched his throat almost passed its limits. "I said: What time is it? I've been hear a while and its still dark out. That's kinda weird."
The butlers eyebrow arched and he gave Jack a dull look. Fair enough. He stood up straight, leaning slightly on the long broom and tapped his chin in thought. Jack squirmed impatiently and nibbled on the end of the mutilated pizza piece.
"Well," Alfred began. "You arrived here around 11 or so and fell asleep for approximately…an hour and a half. That would have made it about 12:30 when Bruce attended the party and, thanks to your devilish little deeds, said party only lasted about two hours before all hell broke loose." He gave Jack a disapproving look and in return, only smiled. Again, in a harsher tone, "The guests left at 3 which was surprisingly early for them believe it or not, and I was left cleaning almost all night while you had a nap. Assuming you just woke up just now I'd say you've been asleep for…two hours. More or less." He finished.
Jack blinked and furrowed his brows, a piece of pizza crust hanging from the side of his mouth. He growled lightly and let the bread drop from his lips. "I just wanted to know the time!" He stomped off melodramatically but not before rudely kicking the broomstick from under the poor butler.
Alfred flopped onto the hard tile right into the pile of dirt and food he had been sweeping up. He sputtered and coughed, trying to get as much dust and garbage out of his wind-pipe as he could and rolled ungracefully off the heap of litter. "I don't get paid enough to tolerate this."
Jack wandered the halls lazily, growing more and more tired with each step. He'd done the calculations in his head and was genuinely surprised to find it to be around 5 A.M.. I should probably find somewhere to pass out. He giggled and turned into what he presumed was the living room.
It's five in the morning, what would be the point? I'd just have to wake up in a few hours anyway.
His eyes scanned over the dark room. Shadows stood paralyzed along the walls and floor and not a sound was heard. The room vaguely resembled a painting and Jack found himself wondering whether or not to find a place to lay down or just stand there and observe the black, almost blue room. A yawn decided for him and he soon found himself sprawled atop the velvety couch, the need for rest overpowering him.
***
Sleep did not come as easy for Bruce. The sheets had long been tossed to the floor and the pillow was next in line. He sighed and flipped onto his back, silently listening to the soft shuffling of his loyal butler still cleaning up down the hall from him. He felt bad for putting his old friend through all this just for his sake and made a promise to himself to repay the man as best he could.
I could give him a vacation.
He immediately mentally obliterated that thought and turned on his side, seeking a more comfortable position.
As much I'm sure he'd appreciate it I couldn't last a week with out him. Heck I cant even cook! I'm just glad that pizza was microwavable, tasty too.
He smiled at the memory of almost blowing up the pizza with Jack. Suddenly he flopped onto his stomach and threw the remaining pillow over his head, growling.
No, no, no! Stop it Bruce! Don't bond with him. He's a murderer, trash, garbage, disgusting filth that the city crapped out one horrible day and was never flushed!
He grimaced at his disgusting metaphor but didn't stop there.
That man isn't Jack, whoever Jack is. He's The Joker. An unbelievably psychotic man in dire need of a straight jacket and an overdose of morphine.
Bruce grew angrier and angrier with each passing second, his hatred for the clown building within him; boiling with every passing word. He shut his eyes and tried to force sleep to come.
Look at me, I'm losing precious sleep over him. A couple of hours and he's already ninja-d his way into my brain. So clever, so sly, and oh so very cunning. Like a fox. Yeah, that's what he is, a fox. An evil purple fox with scared cheeks and white, red and black face fur bent on causing chaos and bringing the world to it's knees.
He began to sweat and shifted uncomfortably on the large bed. Images of buildings ablaze and the charred remains of innocents flashed through his mind. Bruce could almost feel the flames licking at him, tasting him. An ash clouded the sky bringing an unnatural chill over Gotham despite the intense fires quickly engulfing it. His minds eye scanned the wreckage but despite the horrible screams found nothing. But…there. Standing beside the leveled police station. He could see him.
The Joker.
The edges of his suit aflame and covered from head to toe in burning blood. His eyes were no longer a beautiful gleaming green but instead an unnatural jet black that spread into the whites of his eyes. He looked positively demonic, even more so as he slowly opened his mouth, his yellowed teeth now orange due to the old blood that had clung to it.
Chaos.
Every where, chaos.
The Jokers bloodied mouth widened to unnatural proportions, stretching and finally ripping his scars fresh. Then everything grew silent. All the screams, the sobs and the roar of the fire, suddenly muted. Bruce held his breath, knowing full well what was to come.
He waited five seconds, ten, then twenty before opening his eyes, confused.
He gave a terrified yelp to find the Joker nose to nose with him. His face still ripped almost in two, blood flowing like a river down his chin and disappearing into his coat. Still smiling. Still muted. Then, it came. The Jokers laugh split the air, high pitched and hysterical. And as if someone had hit a button, sound returned.
The fierce roar of the flames, the screams, cry's for help, and the Jokers laughter all combining to create an insane and twisted song from hell. Then, as if commanded by some demented higher power, Bruce grudgingly joined in, letting out a terrified wail of his own and adding on to compose and complete the hellish symphony as the murderous fires consumed him.
***
"Bruce! Bruce you annoying rich thing, wake up!" Bruce let out a strangled yelp as he was whacked upside the head with what he assumed was a pillow.
"GAH!" Bruce gasped at his collision with the floor, which successfully knocked the air out of his lungs. He clenched his eyes shut and tried fruitlessly to stop the pounding headache that was coming on. Rolling on his side, he pushed himself up with his elbow and opened his eyes to meet the worried and somewhat disturbed gaze of his butler.
"Master Bruce, are you quite alright?" Alfred asked obviously concerned.
"Huh?" Bruce responded dumbly.
"He asked if you were alright. Though the question should have been: Are you insane?!" Bruce glanced up and saw Jack standing on his bed, one hand on his hip and the other clutching the suspected pillow. The look on his face showed that he was clearly annoyed and by the looks of the bags under his eyes hadn't got much sleep.
Bruce made a face and pushed himself off the ground in an effort to size up the scared man whom of which was still standing on the bed. "I'm fine and no I am not insane." Unlike you. "I just had a nightmare as all."
Jack huffed and jumped off the bed. "Well next time could you have it a little quieter? I think your screams shattered my ear drums!" He yelled raising the pillow for another attack.
Bruce grabbed the offending pillow and threw it to the ground. "What time is it?" He asked Alfred.
"Well-"
"Ohhhh no!" Jack cut in. "Don't ask him! He'll give you an entire lecture on when you fell asleep and what you did leading up to it being the current time!"
Alfred glared at the former killer and stood tall. "It's exactly 11:34 Master Bruce" Alfred smirked as Jack gapped.
"NO FAIR! Your doing this on purpose!" The blonde shouted angrily.
"Jack, calm down and go get ready for your appointment. That means brushing your teeth and actually using toothpaste. Wait in the main hall when your done." Bruce instructed calmly.
Jack pouted but otherwise did as he was told. "Whatever you say Mom." He shouted, stomping out the door.
"Thanks Alfred."
Alfred tilted his head up and walked towards the door. "That goes for you too, Sir." He smiled walking out the door.
Bruce ran and stood by the door frame. "But Alfred! I do use toothpaste, honest!" He shouted down the hall.
***
All three men stood in the main hall of Wayne manor, patiently waiting for the doorbell to ring and the doctor to arrive. Bruce wore some casual cloths that consisted of jeans and a navy blue tee-shirt. Alfred in his normal butler suit, and Jack in almost the same thing he wore yesterday with the exception that the shirt was now purple.
Jack leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets feeling quite board. He winced as another headache forced its way into his head and wondered what was taking the doctor so long.
When he gets here I'm gonna-
Ding-Dong
"What the blood fuck took him so long!?" Jack shouted angrily.
"Calm down, he's here now." Bruce watched impatiently as Alfred strolled to the door and pulled it open. A thin and nervous looking man stood on the other side. His hands were clasped tightly around a black leather case and he wore a white lab coat that seemed two sizes two big for him.
"H-hello. I'm Doctor James Intine, MD. First house call since the early 1970's." He smiled brightly, obviously proud.
Alfred backed from the door letting the doctor come in. Bruce shook his hand and smiled politely. "Bruce Wayne. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Yes, and its an honor to meet you Mr. Wayne. I heard Rachel Dawes had her birthday party here. Only to be cut short but a mischievous prank." Dr. Intine stated, still smiling brightly.
Bruce shot an brief accusing glance at Jack before replying. "Ahh yes. Quite a party. To bad it had to be cut short. For some reason people were getting sick after eating the cake." Why is that?…
"Tragic." The doctor still seemed ecstatic at being in the presence of the billionaire and unintentionally tightened his grip on Bruce's hand. Bruce's smile faltered and the doctor immediately realized his mistake, releasing his hand and turned to Jack.
His bright smile suddenly dropped at the sight of the scars and he struggled for words. Jack crossed his arms and glared at the older man. "I'm impatient so lets get this over with." He stomped over to the nearest chair and slumped down on it.
The doctor stood gaping after him, his hand still raised to shake. "T-that's-"
"Yes we know." Bruce cut off. "Now we're paying you a lot so I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
"But, but, b-but-" The doctor stuttered.
"Alfred." Bruce called.
Alfred walked up to the doctor and held out a covered silver tray. He opened it up and the doctor gasped at what he saw. Money. And a lot of it.
The doctor brightened up again and franticly looked around. "Where's my bag?! Where's the patient?!" He grabbed his bag from the floor and pulled out a chart before stepping in front of Jack and clearing his throat, suddenly very professional. "Before we get started I'd like to ask you a few questions." He held up the chart along with a pencil.
"'kay." Jack answered dully.
"Name?"
"Jack."
"Last name?"
Jack paused for a second, slightly confused. "Err…Jack?"
"Your name is Jack…Jack?" Dr. Intine asked skeptically.
"Erm yes?" Jack tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at Bruce, silently asking for some help.
Bruce faltered and chuckled nervously. Damn it! I never thought of one. "You don't really need a last name, do you?"
"No I suppose not." James turned back to Jack. "Age?"
"Age?" Jack repeated questioningly.
"Yes age. Don't you know how old you are? Or do you think your some kind of immortal?" Dr. Intine asked with a hint of spite.
"I don't think I'm immortal and no, as a matter of fact I don't know how old I am. Bruce on the other hand seems to know quite a lot about me. Ask him." Jack replied smugly.
"Okay okay that's it!" Bruce shouted in an attempt to avoid the question. "Look, he's got amnesia. He doesn't know who he is or how he got here. Can we please just skip all this?"
"Amnesia?!" Dr. Intine and Jack were in perfect sync.
"Wait, you never said anything about amnesia! I was supposed to check out a head wound!" James shouted.
"What the hell! You never told me I had amnesia! No wonder I can't remember a damn thing!" Jack shot out of the chair and clenched his fists.
"Mr. Wayne I specialize in Infectious diseases and Emergency medicine, not Psychiatry."
"But the amnesia was caused by the head wound. There has to be something you can do. Alfred, help me out here." Bruce spun around to face his loyal butler only to find him gone from the room and the low humming of a vacuum coming from somewhere in the mansion. He turned back to face Dr. Intine and cleared his throat. "As I was saying, fix him or Jack gets a new toy." That should do it.
The doctor furrowed his brows and began to look very nervous. He risked a glance at the still pissed Jack and instantly became nauseous at the thought of the horrible things he was capable of. "Fine. But I'm doing it for the money."
"Fine by me." Bruce crossed his arms.
"Not by me! I'm still confused as hell!" Jack directed all of his anger at Bruce and instantly felt his head begin to throb but tried to ignore it. "Who the hell am I? What happened and were am I?"
"Jack, just calm down. Look, It's hard to explain. I'll tell you later." Bruce put his hand on Jack shoulder in an attempt to appease him but that only had the opposite affect.
"No I will not calm down you stupidly handsome rich thing!" Jacks breathing was erratic and his hands had bunched into white knuckled fists.
Fuck, too angry. Oh god the pain! My head hurts so fucking much. It feels like someone's shoving a pipe through my brain! I shouldn't be this angry, what the fuck is happening?
Jack franticly searched the large room for something unknown to even himself. His eyes fell upon the doctors discarded pencil and he quickly snatched that up. He roughly yanked back the doctor who had been silently edging away from him and wrapped one arm around his chest and arms while the other held the pencil to his exposed neck. "Now I want to know right now, who the fuck am I and why can I stop myself?!"
***
AUTHORS NOTES
Okay, well, that was fun! :) I hope you enjoyed! Once again, thanks to my awsome beta, Amanda Saitou!
I want to take a second to thank all of you great people who have taken time to review to my story, even if its just: I love it! I also want to thank everybody who has either Faved me, Faved my story, Story alerts, or Author alerts. You all are great, and I'm not just saying that! 8)
Love and straightjackets,
Miz. Jynx
