Chapter 10:
The rest of the time spent with The Joker had been occupied by the madman continuing to pester the vigilante to tell him what had been "troubling" him. Batman, of course, had refused to yield to the request, repeating over and over that it was "nothing".
By the time the hour was up, he'd been more then ready to leave. But upon The Joker's informing him of his growing hunger pangs, the detective had been obliged to return shortly after with a tray of newly prepared food. He'd put it together himself, not wanting to bother Alfred again, and not wanting to explain to him exactly why the last dish had fallen to the floor.
"Try not to throw this one against the wall." He'd said, placing the meal on the floor. "And eat slowly."
"I always do." The Joker had smiled, standing from the cot and making his way towards the food.
Batman had turned to exit then when the lunatic had called out to him that he should bring that pack of playing cards he'd requested the next time he came.
Bruce had stood silently for a moment, before finally give a subtle nod of his head, and taking his leave.
From there, he'd went up to Alfred, instructing him to purchase a pack of regular playing cards.
The butler had given him a questioning glance before complying.
"Consider it done Sir."
Bruce smiled.
"Great. I'll be down in the cave. Just leave them here, in the study."
"Very good Sir."
The vigilante had needed a nap afterwards. Though he was nervous about the prospect of sleep while that maniac was so close, and so easily able to free himself. But he hadn't really rested in days, and if he wished to stay alert, it was necessary.
As it was, he'd nodded off for several hours before, at last, awaking with a start.
He at first was bleary eyed, and it took several minutes before he was able to completely focus, pushing himself to his feet.
Falling asleep in the suit had made him sore, and he stretched, trying to shake the feeling.
Suddenly his eyes shot wide as his memory came back to him, and he reached out, quickly brining the cell's security camera up.
He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing The Joker, sat cross-legged on the cot, his back against the wall. He appeared to be doing nothing more then sitting there, and Batman found himself wondering for how long he'd been like that.
That in turn led him to wondering for how long he himself had been out, and he glanced to the clock located at the bottom, right hand corner of the screen.
His eyes again grew wide when he saw it read 11:30 AM. He'd been out nearly 12 hours. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so long. That's when he noticed the smell of food and looking to his left, he saw a steaming bowl of oatmeal and tall glass of orange juice sitting there on a tray.
He shook his head. He'd told Alfred not to come down to the cave. For an employee, the old man could be completely uncooperative.
He smiled.
But then, Alfred wasn't really an employee, was he? No. He was a friend.
He then noticed the pack of playing cards, left next to the food.
Alfred, as always, reliable.
He wasn't really all that hungry. He rarely was when he awoke.
The thought then occurred to him that The Joker might very well be, considering how much time had past.
He frowned, realizing such thinking might be construed as him actually caring for the lunatic. But he shook his head from it, grabbing the tray and cards and moving towards the cell.
The Joker snapped to attention as soon as he heard the door's lock release, his head turning towards the entrance.
He could feel a well of excitement bubble up inside his stomach, watching with expectant anticipation as the door pushed open.
A smile spread across his lips as he watched Batman appear. He'd been waiting patiently the entire time, just sitting there.
Bruce approached him with caution, as always, observing right away the tray he'd left on the bed with the madmen, cleaned of its previous contents. He hadn't left any sort of utensils. He wasn't about to risk that sort of thing. It only had been a buttered bagel and dried cheerios, as was. And a glass of water.
"Here." He said, pulling the old tray away and placing the new one in its place.
Immediately the madman went for the cards, opening the case and slipping them to his hand.
"Thanks babe!" He smiled, fingering the thin slips of plastic coated paper with precisian.
Batman watched with actual fascination as The Joker began to shuffle the deck. It was clear he was adept in the handling of cards. Bruce had always known of the lunatic's skills as a magician, but he'd never seen them put on display.
He continued to stare when The Joker looked up at him and smiled, seeing the interest on the vigilante's face.
Batman shifted abruptly.
"Did you sleep?" He asked suddenly.
The Joker looked at him with a disbelieving expression before chuckling lightly.
"Random much?!"
Bruce only starred back, and the madman then waved a hand.
"I don't really sleep sweet-cheeks." He said, looking back to the deck he held.
The vigilante was about to reply, to ask what that was supposed to mean, but was cut off by the lunatic again speaking.
"I see you fancy my talent." He began, cutting the cards in a single hand. "Would you care for a more extensive demonstration?"
Bruce just looked at him for a moment, saying nothing, before shaking his head.
"No." He said. "That won't be necessary."
"Oh, please!?" The Joker implored, sitting up suddenly on his knees and clasping his hands together, as though begging. "I never get to do this for anyone anymore, except Harley. The poor girl does her best to show enthusiasm, of course, but you know Harley, she would cheer me spitting in to a bucket. She doesn't appreciate the artistry involved here. She doesn't understand what goes in to it."
Batman's face twisted to a frown as he looked upon his enemy, wondering how exactly he'd gotten in to this. The Joker couldn't really be asking for something so simple, could he?
"And besides…" The psychopath disrupted his thoughts. "You'll have the hour out of the way, and all you'll really have to do is sit there and watch while I do my thing."
The detective placed a hand to his head in frustration. He felt as though he were appeasing the lunatic, and he couldn't help the feeling of guilt which crept up on him from that. But he reasoned with himself that he really had little choice, if he wanted this to go smoothly. As smoothly as any situation involving The Joker could be, in any event.
"Alright." He finally breathed. "Fine."
"Fantastic!" The madman exclaimed excitedly, moving from the bed.
"Try anything funny and…"
"Oh, you worry too much dear." The Joker pushed past him. "I intend nothing but what I say. Now…" He turned to face the crusader. "Have a seat."
This entire situation struck Bruce as wholly bizarre. He was actually giving audience to the worst mass-murderer he'd ever known, to watch him put on a magic show!? The man was a living, breathing paradox. It seemed utterly absurd, and he might have laughed if not for the gravity of it all.
"Watch…" The Joker splayed the cards easily before suddenly he spread the deck evenly along the top inside of his forearm. Pausing for dramatic effect, he put a finger up, then flung the cards forward, off his arm, in to the air, and doing a single turn, caught them before bringing them back to a neat, squared pile.
Bruce watched with unabashed interest as The Joker proceeded to execute one manipulation after another with masterful precisian and assuredness.
At one point, it appeared as though the deck had vanished completely, until, with a turn of his wrist, he began to make each card reappear between his fingers, seemingly from thin air. After which, after gathering back the entire pack, he began to shuffle and turn the cards in his hands, spinning and flipping them over one another, turning them on their edges, making strange patterns, transitioning from one position to the next too quickly for them to lose their shape and fall, and even began to juggle them.
All while doing this, he spoke to the vigilante, interacting with him, actually entertaining him. He was wholly captivating and charismatic, and it was clear that he knew well how to hold a room's attention.
Still, Bruce made certain to mask whatever fascination he was feeling by keeping his expression stoic. He thought, somewhere, that to be anything but repulsed and hateful towards the madman was wrong. And so even when impressed, he showed no emotion.
The Joker, however, didn't seem even to mind, continuing on in his performance with as much vigor and passion as ever.
And for nearly an hour, he put on a show, both of card manipulation and magic, proving to the detective that his skills were on the level of the very best magicians in the world. Batman wanted to ask him where he'd learned to do the things he did. He'd always been highly impressed by just that sort of talent. He himself had studied and perfected the techniques of the great escape artists. That, of course, had been because it was of immense help in his particular line of work. But he'd never learned slight of hand, not to such a degree, anyway. He refrained from asking though, by virtue of his morals. And in any event, he reasoned with himself, it was likely the madman didn't himself even know. The level of ability he was showing, Bruce knew, would have taken hour upon hour of practice, for years on end. And though The Joker was young when he'd fallen in to that bath of chemicals, how young not really known, but estimated to be in his mid to late 20s, for how many years had past, the lunatic would have had to learn these things before then, before he'd become what he was.
So no, he probably didn't remember.
Still, it opened a window in to who he may have been, which caused the detective's curiosity to swell even further.
"Do you have a coin Batman?" He heard the lunatic ask.
"A what?" He returned.
"A coin." The Joker repeated. "Don't worry. I'm not turning Harvey on you. I thought I might show you how I turn the thing over with my fingers. It's quite neat, really."
Batman starred at him for a long moment.
"No." He finally answered. "I'm afraid not."
The Joker shrugged.
"That's too bad." He said. "Maybe next time you'll bring one."
He continued to finger the cards in various, complex routines as the crusader watched on.
"So what do you think Bat-babe? Did you like it?" The madman finally asked.
Bruce didn't say anything for a few, short seconds.
"Your skill is impressive." He finally answered, allowing for the compliment, though he delivered it with as much of a monotone as he could muster.
"Yes, yes, but did you enjoy it?!" The Joker pressed.
"It was impressive." The vigilante was again stingy with his reply.
The Joker waved his hand dismissively.
"Wound tight as ever, I see. But you liked it, I can tell." He smiled.
"Where did you learn it?" Bruce finally gave in to his curiosity.
The lunatic moved round the room, eyeing the vigilante as he paced.
"Here and about…" He said, continuing to shuffle the cards.
Batman looked skeptically at him.
"You don't remember, do you? You really don't!?"
The Joker stopped moving then and starred at the crusader.
"Don't remember what?" He asked.
"Anything." Bruce pushed. "About your past."
The Joker started for a moment, than stopped.
"What difference is it to you?" The lunatic finally asked.
Bruce couldn't help his feeling of satisfaction when he picked up the impatience in the madman's voice and saw actual annoyance flash in his eyes.
He nearly smirked.
If he couldn't get to the psychopath physically, then he could feel pride in being the only one able to get to him mentally. And that was just The Joker's game, wasn't it?
Well, two could play at that, and he intended to make the most of it here.
"It's nothing." Bruce went on. "It's just, I imagine it would be hard… not knowing who you are. Maybe even a little scary."
The Joker now looked less then pleased, the usual smile which always played at his lips having gone completely.
Anyone else would have been deathly afraid of angering the maniac, but Batman was confident in his ability to handle the man should he lose his cool and fly off the handle.
"You assume too much dear." The Joker waved him off.
"Do I?" Batman replied.
"You do." The lunatic quickly countered. "And what's more, whether I know or not is not important. The past is romanticized in a grossly disproportionate manner. So many people spend all of their time pining for it, and so they pay no mind to the present, letting their lives pass by, drowned by their own regret and unhappiness."
Bruce leaned back then, crossing his arms. He had him now.
"Wow. You really don't remember!" He remarked with surprise in his voice.
"And you really are a spoil-sport!" The lunatic spit back. "Here I am, trying to bring a little joy in to your otherwise dreary existence, and you have to fuss it up with ridiculous, impertinent questions!"
Batman shrugged.
"It just seem strange to me, not knowing who you are." He continued to press the madman.
And he did smirk when he noticed The Joker clearly becoming uncomfortable, now shifting around the room restlessly. It was a rare thing indeed, to see him that way.
"It must make your life confusing, no? Heck, lonely even. In fact, thinking about it, it strikes me as a little…" He paused, waiting for it. "Well, as a little sad."
Almost before the word had expelled from his mouth, he felt a sharp sting across his lower jaw and realized, only moments later, that The Joker had flicked a playing card towards him, and the thing had sliced painfully across his skin.
And in an instant, the lunatic had walked fast towards him, a fiery rage in his eyes.
"You know nothing about me!" He said, his words clipped with anger. "You've proven so by that farcical case file you've written up."
Bruce reached up to feel along where the card had grazed him. It was barely a scratch, no blood even, but still, it made him mad.
He looked up at The Joker.
"Your reaction tells me I'm right. You keep avoiding details." He said, keeping his voice even and calm, though inside he felt abrupt anger. "I probably know as much about you as you do yourself. Really, you could have been anyone. I'll bet your extreme persona is actually some sub-conscious manifestation to compensate for whatever it was you were before. And it only could have been some sorry, pathetic mess of a man, considering how far you've gone. You must have been a real loser."
The Joker stood silently for a moment, just starring at him, saying and doing nothing. And the detective starred back, equally still, before suddenly the madman threw himself at the vigilante, landing literally on top of him and grabbing his hands around the ears of his cowl.
Immediately Batman grabbed him around the torso and stood, spinning the maniac around before slamming him down on the cot. He reared his fist back, ready to strike when he was stopped by The Joker erupting in to giggles.
"Oh babe, that's what I like!" The lunatic laughed. "You're easily as sadistic as I am."
Batman starred at him in obvious confusion.
"You know, I really was only trying to make you smile. You never just smile." The Joker continued. "But instead of accepting that, instead of just admitting that something I did, you actually found amusing, you had to twist it around in to an attack."
Suddenly the smile went from the maniac's face and he looked as serious as Batman had ever seen him.
"You say I'm deluded, but you're the one who guilt's yourself out of enjoying life. You think deriving pleasure from something as innocent as a magic show is unacceptable, merely because of the performer. But then, to get your kicks, you lambaste me with cruel remarks, and somehow you've convinced yourself that that's okay. Enjoying my card tricks is a no-no, but demeaning my person is. Yeah Batman, you're real stable." And suddenly, he again exploded in to laughter, throwing his head back with the force.
Bruce looked at him a moment longer before violently shoving him away and turning to walk across the room.
"Don't be mad darling." The Joker began, sitting up and dusting himself off. "You're the one who started it, remember?"
The vigilante said nothing, keeping his back to his enemy.
The madman eyed him before standing.
"You know sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with wanting to hurt me."
Batman froze for a moment before turning his head, looking over his shoulder at the lunatic.
"There's nothing wrong with anything, really." The Joker continued. "Not even with enjoying my little show." He moved towards the detective. "You've only been taught to believe there is." He stopped a few feet from where Bruce stood. "All I'm trying to do is show you that there's not."
Batman turned fully then to face him.
"To help you enjoy life a little, and to stop drowning in your own self-loathing." He smiled.
In an instant the vigilante was upon him, taking him by the collar of his shirt and swinging him around, slamming his back against the wall.
The Joker hung limply from Batman's grasp, still grinning.
"Really, what makes me mad isn't what you said dear, it's your ingratitude. And the fact of your denial."
Bruce clung tighter to the lunatic, wanting to smash his grinning face in. But suddenly he heard his own voice, telling him to calm down, and he did, still holding to The Joker, but relaxing his grip.
"No." He said. "You're lying. You really were upset by what I said. It's no wonder you try so desperately to make me see things your way. You really are delusional. But you think clearly enough to understand that you are alone. And nothing hurts worse than that. So somehow, you've focused on me, deciding I'm some kindred soul to your own, so that you can escape that loneliness." He let The Joker go abruptly, shoving him against the wall. "But I'm not. I never will be and I'll never see things the way your sick mind does, no matter how hard you try to make me. You're always going to be this lost, wondering person with no direction, no place to go and no point to look back on. You've got nothing to cling to, do you? No one to connect you to anything or anyone else. No one to talk to even. And nobody's ever going listen to you. Nobody's ever going to take you seriously, because all you do is hurt them. All they see when they look at you is a sick and twisted deviant. You've got no friends, no one to support you, no one to help you. That must really be though, huh Joker? It must hurt like hell, being that alone."
The Joker had stopped grinning then, his expression turning now to a pronounced frown, and he starred at Batman hard for a moment before abruptly pushing past him.
Bruce allowed it, turning to watch as the madman made his way to the cot, practically falling on to the thing. From there he took the by then cold bowl of oatmeal in to his hands and began to eat, not bothering to look up at the vigilante.
Batman just starred at him, saying nothing. He wasn't at all sure of what the lunatic was thinking now. His diatribe had certainly wiped the smirk off The Joker's face, but he hadn't become violent like Bruce expected.
He waited for him to finish before making his way towards the bed himself.
"Our time is up." He said.
The Joker continued to keep his gaze fixed on the floor.
"I'll be taking those." Bruce went on, reaching his hand out for the tray and its dishes.
The Joker pushed the platter forward, still refusing to look Batman's way.
The detective took it up then, turning to head for the door.
"I'll be back with more food later." He said, looking back at his enemy.
The Joker shrugged, picking absentmindedly it seemed at the cot's thin blanket.
Bruce glared at him a few moments longer before finally turning and heading out the door.
Authors note:
So, guys, to get an idea of the kind of card tricks I have The Joker doing in this chapter, check out these youtube videos:
.com/watch?v=00yi2kJDjOk
.com/watch?v=CeDseu-SaFE