As the rain poured down on the forsaken area of Gotham that was Arkham City, it drenched Bruce Wayne. This wouldn't have been a problem for The Dark Knight, if it weren't for the fact that it almost seemed to make the ground slippery underneath him. Perhaps that was just a side-effect of the wounds he'd received from Mad Hatter no more than five minutes earlier, or maybe he was simply becoming ill from the infection in his blood that Joker had so eagerly caused.

Batman couldn't help but let out a single, faint snicker. Surely Joker must now be rethinking whether or not that was a good idea. But then it occurs to him that now, Joker likely wasn't thinking at all, at least not for himself, not now that he was under Jervis Tetch's mind control.

Shuffling alone slowly through the alleyways of the ever-desolate Arkham City, almost allowing himself to relax somewhat, Batman considers contacting Alfred for assistance. Maybe if he just left and came back...

"No." The Dark Knight grumbled gruffly under his breath. "If I leave, I won't be able to come back."

Mad Hatter needed to be dealt with now. Otherwise, it might be too late for Joker to be saved.

A part of Bruce countered this point with a good question; why in the world did he care about Joker's well-being? It was no longer about saving another of Hatter's Alices, it was now about saving Joker specifically. Why did he care about what happened to Joker, after all that clown-like son of a bitch had done to him? After all the suffering he'd caused?

There were many things he could have argued back with. The fact that Joker kept him on his toes, how Joker praised him (even backhandedly), the clear desire the clown had to indulge him...

The kiss.

Bruce, despite being dressed as Batman, allowed himself to gulp.

The kiss. Was it a joke?

Everything was a joke to Joker.

But was the kiss?

Yes. Yes, it had to be. It had to be a-

Thump.

Something hits Batman in the back. Turning, the cloaked anti-hero finds it to have been a plank of wood.

"Look, boys; it's the Bat! Get 'im!"

Christ. Not now. Goons are the last thing he wants to deal with.

As the ragged men rush forward, Batman calmly fires his Grapple Gun up. In the blink of an eye, the ragged men find themselves alone in the alley, as Batman had fled up to the rooftops again. He can't fight them right now. Feeling safe enough on the rooftops, Batman finally sighs and decides to call Alfred. Maybe he could get a medicine kit dropped down to him.

Mad Hatter has his 'Alice' seated in front of a mirror. He brushes 'Alice's' long golden hair, a wig, and smiles.

"Your hair is so beautiful, Alice." He purrs lovingly.

'Alice' blinks. He stares at the mirror with his green eyes, the only flaw in his forced cosplay, but doesn't see. He is therefore unable to react to the sight of his own scarred, tissue-damaged face without makeup, or to the sight of himself in nothing but a frilly blue dress.

The grungy purple suit originally donned by Hatter's 'Alice' lays in a crumpled, torn heap in the corner of the room, where cockroaches quickly decide to make it their new home.
Neither man takes notice of this. Time spent in Arkham Asylum has already adjusted them to this sort of occurrence.

"You fought so viciously when I had to take off your headband to give you back your hair." Hatter chuckles adoringly. "I'm so happy you're not resisting me anymore, my dearest Alice."

'Alice' silently blinks again. Hatter smirks, and allows his right hand to make its way to 'Alice's' slender thigh, and then slowly move up to the bare, bony hip underneath the dress. There are already bruises here from a hard grip. Hatter, while undressing his 'Alice', will admit he had lost control. However, he apologized then, so he says nothing of it now. The past is in the past. All that matters is that he has his 'Alice.'

"I think you're ready now, Alice. You look absolutely stunning. The guest are already here. They're so eager to see you again." Saying this, Hatter presses his gloved fingers into the tender flesh of 'Alice's' pelvis. He's pleased to hear 'Alice' elicit a small inward gasp at the feeling.

"Let's not keep them waiting any longer, hm? They must be growing impatient by now." After putting the intricately feminine hairbrush down and taking one moment to run his digits through the golden hair before him, Mad Hatter takes 'Alice's' hand. It is time for their tea party.