Sooooooo guess what... Yeah shit starts to break. Walls crack. Lives fall. Insanity rises. Buwahahahahaha

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Shattered Identities

Chapter 10

The Essence of Creation

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Bruce entered the security room swiftly, letting the door slam hard against the wall. The room was located directly inside the safe room he and the Joker were going to hole themselves up in, at least until the immediate danger of getting blown up was dealt with. He almost sat down in the chair, but quickly opted out of that action. The stinging throb in his back a reminder of his newer injuries. Instead he leaned over the desk, clicking the keyboard so the multiple screens lit up. His attention immediately focused on the entrance hall monitor, the screen broken into eight sections, all showing different angles and adjourning halls. The Joker was just creeping around the corner towards the main entrance. His back to the wall. His green hair, now mostly dry, bouncing as he peered quickly around the edge. Bruce activated the electric walls, sending volts through the fences and fake stones surrounding the house. Then he activated the heat sensors. There were three heat signatures littered around the entrance, all in clear view of the bomb, and several others littered around the house. Cutting off the two's escape from the mansion if they had ran, not that Batman would ever run so he kinda thought that move was pointless. The billionaire activated the gargoyles around the house. He had installed several, okay a ton of new upgrades to his home when he rebuilt it. If he had to build something from scratch he might as well make it pretty damn awesome. The hidden stun dart guns were one of the new enhancements. If he had a say in the matter, he wouldn't be rebuilding anytime in the next five hundred years. Pressing some more keys he activated the controls. One of the gargoyles watching over the entrance slowly and silently turned it's head, it's stone face menacing, its jaws gaping. The Joker finally reached the door and immediately reached for the handle, twisting it. The heat signatures shifted.

"Wait." Bruce quickly stated, activating the intercom near the entrance with a few more buttons. The Joker almost jumped at the sound, turning to glare into the empty hallway. Bruce leveled another gargoyle on the second body, but the there were only two stun guns in range of the entrance. He would have to remedy that when this was over. Four at least.

"Be-baby, we. Don't. Have. Time for this!" The Joker sang, turning back to the door and twisting the handle again. The billionaire activated the guns hitting his targets, but the third man ducked down, hiding behind the trunk of the tree he was situated in.

"Just one more." Bruce stated, turning the other gargoyle to see if it had a better shot, if he aimed it just right he could get the guy.

"Bruce love!" The Joker called out impatiently, pulling the door open a crack.

"One second... Damn it! I can't get a shot in. Just wait."

"Well lets hope they could use some target practice!" The Joker giggled, throwing the door open.

"Wait no! Joker!" Bruce shouted after him, the body moved, peaking out of the trees and leveling a gun towards the door.

"I still don't have a shot! Give me – Joker ge – ." The sound of a bullet shattering stone echoed through the entrance hall, the man ducked back down just as Bruce lined up the shoot, but then he peeked over the edge to see if he had hit his target and the playboy let the dart fly. The body fell out of the tree as the billionaire slammed his fists against the counter.

"God damn it Joker! If you got shot I swear to fucking god – ." The madman dragged the bomb inside, one hand holding his arm. The rest of the heat signatures around the mansion started moving, rushing towards the sound of the gunshot, or to the mansion.

"Relax love it's just a scratch." The maniac claimed rolling his eyes. Bruce scowled at the image, activating the lockdown of the mansion.

"I'm serious. If I have to treat another bullet wound I'm going to – ." The Joker giggled cutting him off while looking around the room, searching for the hidden camera.

"Kill someone?! Doll, get down here and give me a hand, will you?!" The madman pulled the bomb farther into the room, his hand still pressed against his shoulder. The maniac huffed after a few seconds, gazing back up at the ceiling.

"Seriously! It's just a scratch can you curb your. Beautiful. Rage, for another time?!" The Joker exhaled tiredly, giving the bomb another tug and Bruce took one last look at the group of bodies rushing towards the entrance and dashed there as well.

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The Joker had made it past the entryway and into the main hall by the time Bruce got there. The billionaire immediately placed both hands on the bomb, slowly starting to pick it up. He cast a questioning gaze at the madman who nodded his head confirmation. Given the go ahead, he snatched the bomb off the floor, and they made their way swiftly into the mansion, passing through as many rooms with no windows as they could until they made it to the safe room. Bruce placed the bomb onto the coffee table, rushing back into the security room he initiated the second lock down system. Essentially they were trapped inside the room while everyone was stuck outside, but Bruce knew things never worked the way he wanted them, so he had planned for everything. All the doors and windows in the house had already closed with his initial lock down procedure. Bullet proof glass sliding out to lock the windows, while the doors locks were barred, from the inside of the wood. On the outside the house would look normal while on the inside it was a safe house throughout the mansion. The actual safe room acting as a secondary measure, only really needed if anything or anyone had already gotten inside, and counting the body heat signatures he read outside the house they already had.

"Oh looky! Six minutes and counting! I guess you were right, Tiger. They did let it tick for a while." The Joker giggled, tearing off the smiley face cover. Bruce left the security room to take a look at this so called bomb.

"What the fuck?" The billionaire whispered looking down at the mass of wires and boxes with numbers and equations etched onto them, all interrupted randomly by smiley faces and doodles. The Joker was right, this would take him hours to figure out and even then the Joker said he might get the wrong solution. The madman hunkered down over the bomb, his eyes sharpening, brows furrowed.

"Give me a second, B-babe. I reaaaaally need to concentrate on this." The Joker whined twisting a box hesitantly, connecting and disconnecting a few wires. Bruce watched him work, watched the crease of his brow and the set of his lips. The way his hair plastered against his sweat dotted skin, and how he ran his tongue along his bottom lip every once in awhile. As if he wasn't quite sure he was doing it right, and the prospect of them blowing sky high was rather exciting. Bruce had no idea what the man was doing, or what each wire or turn meant but so far they hadn't blown up so he was okay with it. Surprised even. That he was trusting the homicidal chaos prince with his life. A man he didn't even know the name of. Would probably never know the name of. No matter how much he dug or how many blood samples he retrieved from the man he couldn't find him. Not even facial recognition could connect him with another person that had existed before him. Bruce had often wondered if he had come from a third world country, smuggled in some how. Maybe from Africa, the Caucasian half of the country.

"Woo! Back to two hours. See princess! I told you I was good." The Joker tilted his head back at the billionaire, he winking playfully, turning his attention back to the bomb.

"I still need to concentrate though, so leave the celebrator kiss for later, alright?! I know you're just itching for it." The Joker chuckled, quieting down as he concentrated on the wires and twists and turns of the strange contraption.

"How's it coming?" Bruce asked after several minutes of silence between the two, and the Joker didn't reply. Too engrossed in his actions to pay attention. The billionaire watched him for a few more minutes then he asked again. Getting the same result. He opened his mouth ready to call the man's name when he stopped. He had an idea. It might be a really stupid idea and could get them killed, but he couldn't resist the temptation. The chance that he could know.

"John?" Bruce whispered experimentally, concentrating just as hard on the madman as the maniac was concentrating on the bomb.

"James?" Tried again, waiting a few seconds but the man didn't seem to notice him.

"Jordan? Jacob? Jeremy. Um, Julian? Joseph." Bruce paused a little longer then a few seconds, sitting down on the arm of a recliner feeling a little foolish. The playboy shook his head, continuing anyways.

"Joe. Jared. Jacob? Jim... uh, Jack?" The Joker paused, it was only for a split second, barely even a heartbeat, but there was a moment. The billionaire froze in turn, surprised that his idiotic plan had actually worked, his eyes bore into the back of the madman's head, the surprise wearing off. Then his mind worked faster than he could keep up, connecting, piecing images, words, facts together, until suddenly it was all sucked away into a vast black hole, his mind blank. Shock. Dread rose like violent ocean waves inside Bruce, beating against his hollow insides with crushing force. He tried to breath but his lungs wouldn't work properly, drowning in the feeling. He had never felt so close to a panic attack in his life. He stood up a little too quickly, his hand shooting out to catch himself on the other arm of the chair. He gritted his teeth, trying to take back the last minute of his life, trying to stop the queasy shaking, thankful that the Joker had stayed occupied.

He didn't want to know. He had lied. He didn't want to know. God, he didn't want to know. He pushed himself away from the chair, almost falling back into it. Then he hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do. What he could do. Get away. He moved slowly into the security room and leaned heavily against the counter, staring at the screens without really seeing, he took deep quiet steadying breaths, but they still shook, his eyes wide. No. No. Bruce closed his eyes tightly. His hands gripping the table, his knuckles turning white as he gritted his teeth. No. Damn it. No... He had to be sure, he couldn't wait, he couldn't not know. Couldn't wonder. Bruce tore his phone out of his pocket, watching it shake in his grip. No, watching his grip shake.

"I'm... going to keep an eye on the... intruders, see if I... can take them out." Bruce called halfheartedly back to the Joker, who looked up from his work his lips slightly parted, their eyes meeting, his green irises piercing the billionaire's own for all of a second. Knowing. Of course he knew, the man may be insane, but he was still a genius. The Joker blankly turned his attention back to the bomb and Bruce slowly shut the door, sealing off all sound. Turning the phone's screen on, he hesitated only a moment before dialing Alfred.

"Hello, sir. I hope all is well." Alfred answered the phone almost instantly, barely giving the billionaire time to think.

"Alfred... I need you, to do me a favor." Bruce whispered quietly, as he leaned helplessly against the counter.

"Oh my. Are... Are you alright Master Bruce?" Alfred asked concern obvious in his voice.

"I. I don't know... I need you to run the Joker's blood again." Bruce muttered and the old man gave a dry chuckle.

"Sir. We've done this countless times and we always get the same results." Alfred reminded him, not wanting go on another wild goose chase. Bruce always got so worked up with those.

"I know, but... This time. Against the people I've removed from the system." Bruce whispered, hoping his voice wasn't shaking as much as it sounded. When he was sure someone was dead. Seen their body, like Jason, he took them out of the system. He didn't want to risk ever seeing their faces flash by while he ran the computer's search engines.

"I... Of course, sir. Give me one moment." Bruce stared at his shaking hand, willing it to stop as he waited. Listening to Alfred shoo Oracle away from the computer, and the clicks of the keyboard. He listened to Robin's endless string of questions and then the silence that reigned after the quiet earth shattering ping of the computer. Bruce pressed the back of his hand against his lips, and he closed his eyes, willing himself not to throw up at the silence. It could only mean one thing.

"Sir. I uh... I have a match." Alfred said quietly, the gravity of the situation finally soaking in. Bruce nodded his head, then realized that he needed to do more then that.

"The name, give me the name." Bruce breathed out painfully, fearfully, he didn't want to believe this. Why was this happening. He didn't do this. Please, Alfred, tell him he didn't do this. That this wasn't his fault.

"Jack Napier. Sir. He – ." Alfred replied reluctantly and Bruce quickly cut him off.

"I know who he is." Bruce breathed out quickly hanging up the phone, taking another deep breath. He didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to hear the story again. Didn't want hear Alfred's voice tell him exactly who the man in the next room was. He was that beautiful young man Bruce had failed. That stunningly beautiful kid... that kid, the one that shouldn't have been there! He shouldn't have been there! Damn it! Bruce let himself fall to the floor, ignoring how the slid against the counter dug the glass deeper into his back. He placed his head into his hands, pulling his knees up to his chest like Tim had done earlier. This was all his fault. All of this was his fault. That Christmas night of chaotic madness so long ago, Jason, the countless lives lost in the madman's wake. All of it, was his fault. This was his fault. God... The Joker had been right...

This was his fucking fault! Bruce angrily kicked the chair beside him and it crashed against the wall, falling over to violently hit the ground. He couldn't go out there. He couldn't. Not now. He didn't want to. He didn't want to leave this little room. It was so much easier in here. He could... pretend? Maybe... that he, he didn't know? That he didn't know. He didn't know it was his fault. That what that beautiful young man had become was his fault. The Joker wasn't his fault! Damn it! It wasn't. It wasn't! He wasn't his fault. Fuck! Why did the universe play such cruel fucking tricks on him. Everything was a cruel twist of fate. Everyone and everything he touched slowly corrupted and died. Alfred was a saint, the only one with enough good luck to counter his bad. He took another steadying breath. The Joker was his fault. He. He. Bruce. Batman. He created the Joker.

The Joker was his... The Joker was his. His phone rang, and he stared down at it, still in his hand. He wanted to throw that across the room as well but couldn't, he might need it. He ignored the warm trails creeping down the side of his face. It had been so fucking long since he had felt them, but he couldn't stop them. Not this time. Because it was his fault and he felt so helpless. So wrong. He wanted to crawl out of his own skin. No. His skin wanted to crawl off him, because that homicidal insane genius was his fault. He pulled his legs back towards him burying his face in the darkness there, breathing in a shaky breath.

There was a clink of metal, and Bruce tensed, holding back a cry of frustration. He forgot to lock the fucking door. Said door was pulled open quietly and the Joker's shadow fell across him. Bruce watched as the madman's bare feet shuffled quietly into the room. The billionaire tried to reel his emotions in, but the man's mere presence kept throwing them back into his face. His mind was a broken record, doomed to repeat the same sentence back to him. Over and over. The Joker is yours, its your fault. The Joker is yours, its all your fault. Fresh tears broke through his steely resolve, and he held tighter to his sweat pants. Holding his breath, his arms shaking with the effort. The Joker around and knelt down beside him, leaning close, a small smile on his lips. The madman chuckled almost silently, shaking his head a little in disbelief. His breath caressed the edges of Bruce's hair.

"Baby... If I knew this was the way to break you. I'd of done it ages ago." The Joker whispered, his hand reaching up to card lovingly through the billionaire's hair, and Bruce... couldn't help it. He laughed, because the Joker would and this whole situation was beyond fucked up. A small chuckle at first to match the maniac's own. Then into a crescendo, becoming a broken, pitiful, half crazed laugh filled with despair. He couldn't help it. It was just so funny. He jerked almost violently away from the man's hand, falling back onto the floor, easily ignoring how the glass drove deeper into his skin. It really felt better to laugh. So much better then just sitting there crying, drowning in all of those emotions. Fear, regret, panic, guilt, pain, loss. He tilted his head back and let it all go, placing a hand on his head as he laughed, the sound echoing around the room. He hadn't laughed this hard since before his parents died, but it was just so fucking funny! All of it. Nothing. Everything? He wasn't too sure but it was funny. Fucking hilarious! The Joker simply sat beside him quietly letting him break. Finally Bruce slammed a fist into the wall just behind him, trailing off into a shuttering sigh, all those emotions creeping back up to him. The Joker was still kneeling next to him, a small sad, but satisfied, smile on his lips. Bruce's sight moved from the ceiling and he just lay, there staring at the man, letting his breathing even out, letting the emotions slip away into a strange void of nothing.

He remembered. Remembered the picture he had spent months staring at in guilt, regret. Of that young man he had failed. Failed to save, failed to stop. He had spent ages tracking down everything he could possibly know about that night. He knew who the kids parents were, that they were killed, just like his own, but the young man had gone to live with his aunt, while Bruce had stayed with Alfred. It was such a terrible story, because the woman had been murdered as well, by the same criminals. Then the whole thing got confusing, twisted, impossible to understand despite how long Bruce had tried to understand it. The kid, Jack Napier, had gone to work for, live with, the same criminal organization that had taken away his family. Bruce... couldn't figure out why. The kid hadn't risen through the ranks, had shown little desire to. No one said he had malicious tendencies towards the leaders. They said he got along great with everyone in the lower ranks, as much as anyone in a criminal environment could. They said he was reckless and charismatic. He had talked to everyone, every last criminal that had contact with the kid, yet he still didn't know why. How did Bruce miss it? How did it take him this long to connect the dots? To figure it out? Did he just... not want to know?

"I... guess the game is over." The Joker muttered licking his lips, running one hand down Bruce's stomach, resting against his abs, his eyes trailing after the movement. The billionaire continued staring at him for several more seconds. Finally the billionaire's head slowly moved left to right, he closed his eyes shaking his head in disbelief, opening them once again to bore into the maniac's.

"Why were you there?" Bruce asked quietly, the burning question, the one that had eaten away at him for years. He had asked himself, others, thousands of times, but no one could give him an answer, and he had beat through countless criminals in his search. None of them could answer. 'I don't know' wasn't an answer Batman accepted.

"Why were you there?" Bruce repeated himself a little louder, pushing himself off the floor. His brows furrowed in anger as the madman simply stared back at him.

"Why?! Why were you there?!" The billionaire demanded, grabbing the wrist on his abdomen, squeezing a little too tight. The maniac chuckled quietly.

"Why do you think... I was there?" The Joker whispered with a bitter smile and a tilt of his head.

"I was bored. I thought it would be fun. A good way to dash through the ranks, get a few giggles, a better, more entertaining, job." The Joker looked away, his eyes glazed as he remembered that day. His hand twisted around to hold Bruce's larger one.

"It would have worked, too. Except... You showed up. You weren't even, a whisper, back then. How..." The Joker scoffed shaking his head with another amused chuckle. "How. Was I to know. You. would be there? But... Then..." The Joker tore his eyes away from Bruce instead staring at the ground. "I... I was scared. I was so scared to go back. Scared to get up, scared... to live." The madman muttered, his jaw tensing as he swallowed hard and Bruce shook his head in disbelief, understanding.

"You didn't take my hand. You. You didn't take my hand." Bruce gritted out angrily, and the Joker smiled, moving his green eyes up to meet his own.

"No. I didn't." The madman chuckled, and the billionaire growled in frustration, tugging on the man's hand in anger.

"Damn it! Why? Why not! Why didn't you take my hand?! I could have saved you." Bruce hissed, almost thankful that not all of this was his fault. That the Joker could share half the blame. The madman simply scoffed at the question. Rolling his vibrant green eyes before leveling the playboy with a scathing look.

"Look at me." The Joker laughed, and Bruce's brow furrowed in confusion.

"No." The Joker huffed with a small growl, his hand shooting out to grip the billionaire's masculine chin.

"Really! Look. At. Me." And suddenly Bruce saw the scars, realized what the maniac was saying, saw what they had done to him. Knew what they had done to him. They had wiped him off the planet. Bruce had searched for the kid, combed through hundred of men with questions and he was dead, Jack Napier was dead. That was the general consensus. The only knowledge anyone had. Jack Napier was dead.

"I'm... sorry. I'm sorry." Bruce whispered firmly as he grabbed the back of the Joker's head, pulling him down to him. He placed his forehead against the madman's. His grip tightening in the man's hair. Jack, just a kid trying to prove himself, had been scared. Scared to face his surrogate family after what he had done, and for good reason it seemed.

"I thought it was funny." The Joker whispered pressing his head harder against Bruce's.

"Tried to play it off, like it was some big... Joke. Didn't really work. I didn't really look like myself to begin with so, it wasn't hard to get rid of me. I couldn't help but laugh though, I mean thwarted by a bat of all things." The Joker chuckled in amusement, closing his eyes against the heat of Bruce's skin.

"But, why did you join them?" Bruce asked quietly, he had always wanted to know. Why hadn't Jack Napier become like him? Chasing the criminals that had ruined his life? Of course the man was never a billionaire, thus maybe not a vigilante, but he could have been a cop or a lawyer or anything really, why join them?

"What do you mean?" The Joker asked opening his eyes to stare into Bruce's stormy blue orbs.

"They killed your family. Why – ."

"Oh, that?! It's really dumb, actually." The Joker admitted, smoothing a hand down Bruce's chest absentmindedly, hoping it would distract the man.

"I, uh, I... heh. I just, um..." But he couldn't say it. Couldn't bring himself to admit what he had wanted back then, what he craved. What he now knew he'd never get, no matter how hard he tried because the world just didn't work that way. Humans didn't work that way. Never would.

"Tell me." Bruce insisted quietly, twisting his head against the man's own, digging into his flesh, but the Joker remained silent. Irritation shot through him, his emotions haywire and volatile, on the edge. His entire body unsure if it wanted to crawl into a corner and die or destroy everything he could get his hands on.

"Tell me." The playboy growled, tightening his grip on the man's hair, but he only got a chuckle in response. Bruce breathed through the anger, slowly forcing his hand to relax and he switched tactics. Instead he removed his forehead from the madman's which earned him a little pout. Which morphed into a stunned silence as he pressed a gentle kiss on the man's forehead. Bruce's hand moving from the maniac's hair and trailing down his scarred cheek. The Joker looked up at him, their eyes met.

"Tell me." Bruce whispered and the Joker stared up at him with wide eyes.

"I..." The Joker searched Bruce's blue orbs for any deception, manipulation, repulsion.

"I," The madman sighed, looking down at their bodies. So close together he could feel the heat radiating off the other.

"I wanted..." The maniac scoffed licking his lips, "I wanted... a family. One that." The Joker turned his head away glancing at the door behind him, wondering if he should just leave instead of continue. He'd never told anyone anything like this why should he trust Batman? Bruce. The billionaire tugged the man back to him, placing his forehead just above the man's temple and the Joker caved.

"One that... wouldn't hurt." The Joker admitted blandly. Bruce's eyes widened and he backed away from the man, his mind racing. Did that mean... but how could he have missed that? Wouldn't there have been signs? Notes in his school records, something?

"But everything hurts, love. That's why you gotta learn to love it! The burn." The Joker turned back and leaned forward intending to show Bruce just how great it feels, his lips nearing the billionaire's, but he froze as the man spoke.

"You're parents... abused you? That's what... That's what I was missing. You, you were abused. You're aunt?" Bruce's eyes snapped to the Joker who sat back and shrugged almost nonchalantly returning his gaze to the billionaire.

"That's why you joined the criminal underground. They didn't take anything from you. They saved you. In a... twisted. Fucked up way." Bruce muttered and the Joker chuckled, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Told you. I've never lied to you. You know what really got to me though. Is... that you. You hate me. So. Much. Yet..." The madman paused his brows creasing for a moment, then a bitter smile took over his face.

"You're. Really. The only one that. Cares..." The Joker laughed darkly. "Isn't that fucking irony for you?! I was going to just watch this city burn! But, no! You. You had to stop me! Again. But this time. You did save me. I just... Wasn't worth saving anymore. You knew that. I knew that. Yet you did it again, and again, and again that night." The Joker trailed off with a reminiscent giggle, biting the bottom of his lip.

"Everyone is worth saving." Bruce whispered back and then there was silence, the bitter smile growing on the madman's scarred face.

"And that." The Joker muttered, tapping Bruce's chest with a finger.

"That. Right there. That's what. Kills. Me." The Joker whispered shaking his head with a pained grin, water glistening in his eyes for the first time. The madman looked up at him, the smile dropping from his features and he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across Bruce's lips.

"I don't want to be everyone." The Joker gritted out, his eyes narrowing in anger.

"I want to be someone. To you. If that's your enemy then so be it! At least you know who I am. Not that we ever had much choice." The madman stood up at that, walking out of the room and Bruce wanted to follow him. Demand to know why, but he knew why, the Joker just told him why. Why he was obsessed with him, why he constantly demanded his attention. Why he needed it. Needed him. Needed something to keep him grounded. To keep him this side of sane. When Batman first met the Joker he had planned on blowing up all of Gotham, himself included. He was homicidal, suicidal, and easily the most sadistic and twistedly morbid man he had ever met. After that day though... everything had been centered on their connection, it was no longer mindless mass destruction. It was easy to see he was obsessed but he wasn't suicidal anymore, not afraid of death, sure, but he didn't seek it out. He didn't blow anything and everything up just for kicks. He built his little empire instead of tearing everything down, sent every criminal figurehead running. Simply because he could.

What would it be like? To be abused your entire life? The schools had no reports on the matter. It couldn't have been that bad. The Joker... Jack had never been in the hospital. Not from unknown reasons. He had broken his arm once at school, fell out of a tree, it said he was trying to impress his classmates. Even then the man had no fear. He had never been in fights at school either. Nothing had pointed to a troubled home life. God. The Joker was Jack. Bruce bowed his head again, resting his forehead in his hands, slowly tightening his grip in his hair, his shoulders sagging. He wanted to pretend this was a good thing. That beautiful lost young man didn't die that day... but, what he had become... wasn't it worse?

"They're trying to get in! Just let me out cupcake!" The Joker whined from his reclined position sprawled out over the armchair, his feet thrown over one side, his hand propping his head up on the other armrest.

"And I'll get rid of them for us. I could use a little exercise and... blood bath." The Joker trailed off with a sadistic chuckle, and Bruce had to perk his head up a little to hear his next whispered words, watching him stare at the door.

"You know the best part of someone dying? Watching their eyes. Slowly fade. Turn all glassy, and bulbous. Its really obvious when the soul isn't there anymore. You can usually tell when someone wont be coming back. Just! By looking at their eyes. Its a window into the soul you know!" The Joker laughed from the lounge chair just outside the security room, tilting his head back over the armrest, his brilliant green eyes locking with Bruce's. That was something the chemicals must of done. Jack Napier had blue eyes. Brilliant, vibrant, joyful blue eyes. The madman's green hair fell gently towards the ground leaving his face clear. Leaving that abnormally pale skin, the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek bones, un-obscured. Bruce could see it. See the young man the Joker used to be through the sadistic, grinning smile. Through the warped twisted scars wrapping around his face. Well he had been right, the Joker had been beautiful. Bruce couldn't hold back the ironic laugh, running his hand through his hair. It was funny, because Jack Napier was... his obsession. The first person that didn't actually deserve to die, and one he could have saved, yet couldn't, hadn't. Bruce still had dreams, dreams that he had saved him. That he had gone on to become something in the world. Maybe a lawyer or actor, talk show host. Someone with respect and entertainment. The kid had always had a flair for the dramatics, Bruce had one of his recorded school plays. It was just a rehearsal. Stolen from a classmates computer. The playboy wasn't joking when he said he had no stops in his search. He had watched that thing over a hundred times, always in guilt, watching that joyful grin as he charmed the girls with his antics.

He could see it clearly, the jerky phone recording as the kid ran through his lines flawlessly, Shakespearean. A Midsummer Night's Dream, wooing the rather beautiful co-actress, but then he turned towards the camera halfway through, the sound of girls giggles sounding from around the recording. The kid would give a rather heart stopping smirk as the teacher berated him with an irritated, sighed, warning of 'Jack.' The blonde teen ignored her though instead hopping off the stage he knelt near the girl holding the camera. Taking a petite hand in one of his own, then another girls in the other. Giving each brief attention as he finished up his lines. He would lean forward then, kissing the back of each hand as the teacher got more forceful in her exasperation. The girls would giggle, those brilliant blue eyes would turn towards the camera giving it a sultry wink and he'd release the hands walking backwards towards the stage sending them all kisses. Bruce shook his head, forcing the memory out, because it didn't matter, in all essence, that kid was dead.

The Joker was laying it on rather thickly but he got his point through. This knowledge didn't change anything, couldn't change anything, because the Joker couldn't exist in a new world, Jack was already dead. The Joker was already the Joker, would always be. The Joker. Nothing would ever change who he was, but... What if Bruce helped him? Was the Joker... could he... be saved? Countless psychologists had been brought to the brink of madness just attempting to crack him. Could he? Should he? Was Jack still in there, somewhere? Bruce wanted to believe there was, but his heart wasn't with him. It didn't believe, couldn't bring itself to try. Bruce stood up, ignoring his roaring thoughts and confused feelings. The Joker was pouting at him in disappointment as he ignored him, instead turning towards the wall inside the security room, moving out of the man's view. He hit several hidden panels and the wall moved away, revealing a back up Batman suit. The Joker was there almost instantly, standing just behind him as they both gazed at the suit.

"Wait." The Joker muttered the moment Bruce decided to get it over with. The madman shifted, gently lifting the back of the playboys blood soaked shirt. He hissed in sympathy gently touching a single finger to the flesh on his back.

"Never mind. Those aren't coming out without stitches." The Joker whispered, lowering his shirt back down as gently as he could.

"Hows your arm?" Bruce asked, just remembering that the madman needed medical attention as well.

"It needs stitches too, but we're big boys. We can handle it." The Joker insisted, patting the center of Bruce's back, not roughly but not entirely gentle either. The billionaire grunted in pain jerking out of reach and slapping the madman's hand away from him. He scowled at the grinning male as he tore the shirt off, letting the sight of his rather impressive abs distract the maniac, enough for him to shove the Joker out of the room without a complaint, not until it was too late. The madman still got a hand down his chest before he could shut the door on him, the touch burning on his skin. The Joker blinked for a few seconds before slamming a fist into the closed door as Bruce locked it, he was sure the maniac was yelling at him but he couldn't hear it. He quickly changed into the bat suit ignoring the stinging pain in his back. The suit was skin tight pressuring the shards of glass still in his back. He finished with the cowl, and opened the door again to find the Joker scowling, standing impatiently, on the other side. Instantly the madman's features shifted. His lips parting, his eyes wide as he took in the Bat before him. Bruce stalked past him, ignoring the man's awed look. It was one thing to see theory that Bruce was Batman another to actually see the transformation.

"Stay here." Bruce growled, clicking open a hidden panel he slammed his fist against the release button. The door unlocked with a distinctive click. The Joker sent him a scathing look which Bruce returned, opening the door and slamming it behind him. A bullet instantly took him on his right shoulder, and he stumbled back a step. He should pay more attention to the actual threats. Detaching his grapple gun, he took aim, ripping the gun out of the masked assailant's hands. It was rather fitting for the surprised clown mask that looked back at him as he grappled the man again, pulling the enemy towards him he slammed a fist into his face, knocking him to the ground unconscious. Another man turned the corner down the hall as the first one fell and open fired. Bruce used the same trick, pulling the gun out of the man's hands, before he was slugged in the back with another shot, turning around he found two men coming from behind. He scowled, he didn't have all of his updated security belt. He threw the old glue bomb at them and the device didn't detonate. The men looked up from the contraption, leveling their guns on him again as the man down the other side of the hall picked up his gun, advancing towards the vigilante, unwilling to fire with his comrades on the other side. Finally the glue detonated, splattering the men in sticky substance, they snarled angrily tugging against the new bonds. The man advancing aimed his gun again, and Batman threw another grenade. This time it instantly exploded, covering the other man, but the solution wasn't holding like it used to. The two men he had first hit already had their movement back and were clicking their guns uselessly. They threw them down, stalking down the hallway towards Batman, who easily countered their first attack, sweeping around the man to slam an elbow into his friend's face. The first man stumbled, fixing his footing while the second one's head smashed into the wall. The vigilante brought a boot up to roundhouse kick the thug that had just found his footing, catching him in the jaw and sending him into a closed door, the wood smashing under the hit. The door behind him opened, as he countered the single man left.

"What's taking so long?" The Joker asked in boredom, Batman moved in to uppercut the man when the door he had just slammed a thugs face into crashed open. Forcing him to back little into the safe room. The man that opened the door quickly jumped out of the way revealing another thug with a fucking rocket launcher. Bruce's eyes widened and he hurled himself backwards into the Joker, throwing the door to the safe room closed. He shifted his weight and threw his body forward, but not fast enough to completely close it. The door crashed open with the screams of pain from whoever was left in the hallway after the explosion. Batman flew backwards from the force, narrowly avoiding taking the Joker with him into a pile of chairs. Bruce grunted in pain, pushing himself off the ground as something clattered into the room with a thunk, rolling towards him. It was a grenade. Batman didn't waste time, snatching it from the floor and throwing it back, still on his knees, as another one fell into the room. He didn't bother with this one instead he scrambled around, sweeping the Joker off his feet from his spot in the center of the room. Batman hit the farthest wall hard with his shoulder not bothering to slow himself down. He clicked open another latch and slammed his fist into another button, tightening his grip around the Joker's waist. The ground beneath them fell away and his stomach flew into his chest as they plummeted. Light flared just as their head's cleared the floor. The sound of the explosion and shaking were swept away as they were shot down, the door closing above them cutting off the rampaging flames. Batman held on tightly to the Joker as they fell into a shaft beneath the mansion. The large landing pad cushioning their fall, enough to keep them alive, but still leaving some painful bruising.

"What the fuck just happened?" The Joker whispered, his fingers clenched in Batman's cape. Bruce shoved the madman off himself, none too gently.

"Let's go. I need to get this chip to Oracle before they can track it through the jammers." Batman muttered, rolling off the re-inflating padding and onto the ground, landing gracefully. The Joker crawled after him sliding off the landing pad with a little woo of joy. Bruce started down the small passageway, ignoring the faulty flickering lights as he went, trying to ignore the fact that he would have to rebuild the mansion from scratch for a second time.

"Now that! Was fun! Next time, I wanna go by myself and see if I can bounce a few times!" The Joker giggled, dancing along behind him.

"No." Batman stated and the Joker laughed, closing the distance between them so he was barely a step behind.

"You're such a fun killer, you know that. You kill fun. How does that make you feel Bats? You actually kill something." The Joker gasped mockingly, and the vigilante rolled his eyes. Glad they didn't need to walk the entire way to the Bat Cave. They came to an intersection with a small platform in the center. Batman hopped over the guard rails and onto the metal platform, his cape billowing behind him and he flipped a few switches on the small console that was between the guard rails on one side. The Joker slipped underneath the bars popping back up near the Dark Knight.

"So what exact – ." The platform shot off down one of the tunnels and The Joker scrambled for something to hold on to. Falling back into the railings behind him, he held on as the platform zipped down the corridors, the lights just a long blur as they passed them. Suddenly the platform came to a stop, not jerking them around, but not quite a smooth reduce in speed, either. Metal doors slid apart ahead of them and the platform slipped through, finally coming to a full stop. Batman immediately hopped onto the railings vaulting off into the black cavernous hole in front of them.

"Wa – hey!" The Joker shouted rushing to that side of the platform, he froze. Taking in the large metal platform suspended in the middle of the massive cave. A large computer and supplies littered around the place. Electronics sending an eerie blue glow out to die in the darkness that ate at the edges of the cave. Walkways crisscrossed, fell and rose, around the cave, makeshift rooms erected with wires and pipes leading to and from them. Batman soared across the caved making a circle around the open area before landing gracefully on the main platform.

"Oracle." His voice echoed through the cave, scuttling and chirps startling the madman as the ceiling stories above him lit up with reflective red eyes, a few bats sailing down chaotically before ascending into the darkness again.

"Holy shit!" A girl gasped, almost falling off the squeaky chair in front of the computer.

"Bruce?! What are you doing down here?!" The woman asked and the Joker knew that voice. Knew it very well, enjoyed it even while she screamed in pain, pleaded for mercy.

"I need you to isolate this tracking device, while keeping us off the radar." Batman demanded, placing the dried bloody chip onto the computer desk.

"Umm... okay." The girl stuttered, and Bruce walked across the platform a little pulling something out of a filing cabinet.

"And put this on." Batman insisted, shoving a mask into the girl's hands.

"Barbara Gordon! Long time no see. The mask is a little redundant, love. I had wondered where Batgirl had gotten off to, guess I have my answer. Seems I killed two birds with one stone? Or Bats?" The Joker laughed leaning against the railing.

"Oh my god. What is he doing here? You brought him here?!" Barbara stuttered, shrill panic filling her voice.

"The mansion is gone." Bruce stated in reply and the girl looked him like he was insane.

"What do you mean gone?" She asked quietly.

"They delivered an explosive to the house. The Joker was able to disarm it, but they blew the room up that contained it."

"So. You mean. It's like... gone? Gone?" Barbara asked entirely confused as to what she should be feeling more right now, fear for the Joker or the people blowing up mansions. Which was normally the Joker.

"Bats! Babe. How do I get down from here?" The Joker asked casually, glancing around his position rather far away from everyone else. Bruce had half a mind to leave him up there, but he'd probably wander back into the tunnels and either get lost or get out.

"The ladder, to you're right." Batman informed him and Barbara's hand grabbed fearfully onto his forearm wide pleading eyes staring at him.

"You've got to be kidding me." The Joker muttered staring down at the ridiculously long rickety ladder.

"You can't bring him here! Don't let him near me. What were you thinking. I can't do this. I can't do this." Barbara stuttered almost going into shock, her breathing elevated.

"Shhh." Bruce whispered placing a gloved hand on her own shaking one.

"He won't touch you. Right Joker. You won't touch her." Batman asked turning his dangerous gaze to the madman who was slowly making his way down the precarious ladder covered in bat shit.

"Or what?! you'll beat me up?" The Joker called down to him, startling a few more bats that swooped around the space.

"No. I won't talk to you. Ever." Batman stated, narrowing his eyes.

"Ouch. Fine. Fine. You play a hard bargain." The madman conceded, scowling at the shit covering his hands. "Can't promise she'll stay away from me though."

"This isn't a bargain." The Dark Knight insisted, crossing his arms menacingly.

"You know. You're so cute! When you're angry! Here catch!" The Joker called to him and Batman rushed forward without thinking, diving over the side of the platform to snatch whatever the madman had tossed, out of the air, before it could plummet into darkness. He swooped around and grappled back up to the main area, hopping onto the platform and taking a few steps away from the edge, before bothering to look down at the object in his hand. Surrounded by the black fabric of his gloves was a rectangular item, the ends of the rectangle looked like they plugged into something, little metal outlets jutting out. While on the inside neon green liquid swirled on one side, while a dark purple sludge sat on the other, the two substances were divided by an inky black chamber. Two black strips lead down two of the sides, connecting to the dividers separating the liquids.

"What is this?" Batman asked the maniac who was almost to the lower platform.

"That?! Oh, that's just the bomb!" The Joker giggled, dropping the last few feet onto the metal mesh.

"Pretty isn't it?" The madman asked trying to figure out which way lead to the main platform.

"What do you mean it's the bomb?" Bruce asked skeptically trying to figure out what the liquids were.

"You know. The one that I made." The Joker replied irritated, like he was talking to a dumb henchman.

"You mean the one we left in the mansion?" Batman asked slowly suddenly realizing what this could mean.

"No the one you. Thought. We left in the mansion. Lucky for you I snagged it! Wasn't sure what I'd do with it, but it seemed like a better idea to carry around the highly reactive compounds instead of leaving it laying around somewhere like a safe room." The Joker laughed, frowning as he realized he had met a dead end cluttered with boxes.

"So the mansion wasn't blown up." Bruce muttered to himself turning to the computer and typing in a few commands, the mansions video surveillance popped up. He typed in a bit more and got static, he cycled through the camera's a little until he reached one that could survey the wreckage of the middle of his mansion, the roof had collapsed a little from the explosions, but the rest of the mansion seemed intact. Batman turned his attention back to the Joker who was finally making his way towards the main platform. The Dark Knight leaned down next to the quivering girl.

"Don't call him by his real name. He can't know, you know. Ever." Bruce warned the girl and then stood back up, just as the Joker scrambled onto the platform.

"Where's Robin and Alfred?" Batman asked, checking out a few more cameras.

"They heard the explosion and went to check it out." The girl muttered her eyes never leaving the madman.

"Call them back and get to work on that chip." Bruce insisted, straightening back up.

"Of course." Oracle stuttered, picking the tracking device up.

"Follow me." Batman growled out to the madman who simply raised an eyebrow, following the vigilante without a word, sending the girl a chillingly sadistic smirk as he passed. Bruce lead them down a spiral walkway and underneath the main platform. Into a room that looked startlingly like the makeshift hospital one they had in the mansion.

"Sit down." The Dark Knight demanded gesturing towards the bed. The Joker thought briefly about defying him but hopped onto the bed with a sigh, he was too tired for this right now. Bruce took a look at his new wound, the Joker hadn't been lying when he said it was a graze but it was deeper than just a scratch and definitely needed stitches, which he supposed the madman had told him as well. He snatched up some disinfectant from one of the counters, pouring some on a gauze he tried to clean away the dried blood, which simply made room for fresh instead. Bruce cleaned it to the best of his abilities, before moving to sew it up. The Joker sat quietly through the whole affair, his eyes sagging a little as time ticked by. Finally he was done and he sat in the rolling chair, moving in towards the bed, he felt just as tired as the madman looked and they sat there lost in their own thoughts for a few minutes, not really noticing they were staring at eachother, before the sound of footsteps interrupted them. Batman knew who was walking down the catwalks before they even came into view, but the Joker's head snapped up, taking in the new arrivals. Robin was all but running down the spiral walkway, his footsteps echoing through the cave.

"Bruce. Are you okay?" The teen asked stopping just in front of him, but out of the madman's reach.

"I'm fine." Bruce replied, scuffing up the kids hair.

"Don't lie to the kid. It's not like you can hide those wounds for long." The Joker muttered sourly, glaring at that hand.

"Master Bruce. Are you in need of assistance?" Alfred asked worriedly stepping forward.

"Yeah. I – ." Bruce started but the Joker instantly cut him off.

"He has glass shards all over his back! And instead of taking them out, he pushed them further in. Naughty boy." The Joker laughed, tutting in disappointment a few times, before laughing some more.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked him for confirmation of the maniac's words.

"Just help me get them out." Bruce muttered glaring at the Joker who smirked back at him, kicking his feet a little in joy.

"Why does that not surprise me." Alfred muttered stepping towards the vigilante.

"Well then out of the suit, I seem to have my work cut out for me." Alfred insisted and Bruce stood up, peeling off the top half of his costume, holding back the winces of pain. Robin hissed in sympathy as well when he got a good look at it.

"Ouch. That's going to hurt for awhile." The teen said, almost acting like the Joker didn't even exist, avoiding looking in his general direction at all.

"Onto the bed for me, sir." Alfred suggested, and the Joker immediately hopped off as Batman stood up, he danced around the topless vigilante, running a hand across his stomach, before falling into the chair, rolling back and into the counter with a giggle, his arms and hands thrown out as he slid across the floor. He spun the chair and pushed off the counter rolling back towards the bed, he threw his feet down narrowly stopping the chair from slamming into the elderly man. Bruce settled down face first onto the bed, leveling the madman with a stern glare, that promised pain if he didn't stay put. The Joker simply giggled again, leaning forward he settled his crossed arms next to Bruce's face, placing his own grinning mug right next to the vigilante's. The Dark Knight closed his eyes in irritation, after a few long moments of Alfred rustling around him he opened them again, to find the Joker gazing quietly back at him. His face was relaxed, his vibrant green eyes soft, his lips meeting the scar perfectly to cast the illusion that he was still smiling even though his entire face was blank. Bruce hissed in pain as Alfred sadistically poured antiseptic across his back, the liquid sliding down his skin and into the bed. It was insane how bright the madman's irises were. They started off a dark forest green near the pupil, spiking out to a vibrant absinthe glow. Like the color of green apples but ones that had their own stars inside. Letting off their own light. If he looked past that green though he could see speckles of a darker green, and towards the outer edges, the familiar brilliant blue Bruce had stared at for months peeked through, almost drowned out by the green but still there. Slowly those eyes slid shut and the vigilante turned his attention towards his scars instead. Taking in their jagged knitting as Alfred pulled more glass out of his back, quickly sewing up the wounds. Those scars looked painful, they shot in different directions as if whoever had created them had slipped or the Joker had jerked away, forcing him to start again. Bruce closed his eyes, remembering that it was his fault that happened to the man. No. Not entirely his fault. Jack should have never joined the criminal underground. Should never have tried to move up the ranks, should have reigned in his boredom. And Bruce should have been quicker. Should have been smarter, faster, better.

Bruce startled away by his name being called softly.

"Bruce. Master Bruce." Alfred called to him and he opened his eyes not realizing he had closed them, to find a beautiful man sleeping inches away from him, then the vigilante noticed the edges of the scars peaking onto his skin, and the unnatural green of his hair and he realized it was the Joker. He tore his attention from the man glancing back at his old friend.

"I'm done sir. Might I suggest some actual rest in the nap room." Alfred stated as he pulled off his gloves. Bruce nodded his head, pushing away from the hospital cot, holding back a groan of pain. His entire back felt like it was on fire.

"I would also suggest a pain killer sir." Alfred insisted, holding out a single pill and Bruce pushed it away, sitting up farther. The Joker's eyes snapped open, quickly glancing around the room. The vigilante wanted to stretch his muscles as he twisted his legs over the edge of the bed, but didn't want to rip the stitches.

"Come on." Bruce muttered to the now half awake madman, who had laid his head back down the moment he knew where he was. The half naked Batman hopped off the bed, not bothering to pull up the suit. The Joker lazily pushed away from the bed, standing up when Bruce started making his way out of the room. He lead them through a few other rooms, getting father down in the cave. He finally opened a door to a sealed room, and gestured the sleepy madman inside. The Joker gave him a once over as he made his way into the room. Bruce followed after him shutting the door behind him which instantly shut out the little sounds the cave made, the little rushes of air, or echoing scuttles, the steady dripping of water. The vigilante pushed the Joker towards one of the twin cots framing the room. The madman stumbled a little his knees slamming into the bed. Batman sat down on one of them, and the maniac turned around to scowl at him, pushing away from the bed.

"Go to sleep." The vigilante insisted, reaching up and ripping his face mask off.

"You go to sleep." The madman huffed sitting down on the cot across from the billionaire, barely missing smacking his head on the bed above it. Bruce sighed, reaching a hand up onto the cot above him he tore down a shirt from the pile of clothes sitting folded on the neatly made bed. He painfully pulled the shirt on, wincing every so often when he pulled his stitches a little too far. Finally he pulled the clothing into place, and he twisted around, pulling his feet onto the bed. He almost fell lazily onto his back, but stopped instead settling irritably onto his side, not bothering to take off the lower half of the batman suit. He closed his eyes, he'd only be able to lightly nap though, he'd have to keep an eye out for the Joker slipping out of the room. He was usually a pretty light sleeper, but the Joker was equally light on his feet. The bed in front of him sagged and his eyes snapped open in time to take in the Joker sliding onto the bed with him. He lifted his arm up, keeping it from getting crushed by the madman, who turned his back to the vigilante. The Joker's back was pressed up along Bruce, his heat radiating into Bruce's skin. The billionaire scowled in anger placing his hand on the maniac's side, ready to shove him off the bed, then he stopped. Rethinking the situation. If the Joker was this close to him, he couldn't simply slip out of the room. Bruce would awaken instantly almost anytime the man made a move. Instead his hand slid around the madman's stomach, careful of the bruises he knew littered the man's skin. Maybe this way he could actually get some real rest without being constantly on the lookout. He left his arm around the male, almost like a safety strap, digging his hand into the sheets beneath them.

"I'm a light sleeper. Don't even try to leave." Bruce muttered, laying his head back down against the pillow. The Joker's hair barely touching his face, but the madman didn't answer. Already asleep next to him. The vigilante scoffed, pulling the man closer to him, closing his eyes as well.

The door to the room slammed open and Bruce startled awake, the body next to his jerking as well. Alfred stalked into the room a grim expression on his face.

"Sir. There has been a Joker attack." Just as quickly as he had shown up, he was gone, and Bruce was left with the warmth pressed along the length of his body.

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Chapter whatever the fuck this is DONE! Bahahaha you get to know what position they ended up in next chapter! I know I'm evil... REVIEW AND SHIT DAMN IT! I feed on them. FEED! Om nom nom reviews. If I don't get into College I'ma write a book. How backwards is that? lol