A/N: Once again, all apologies for the long time between updates. This is just a real busy time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and would very much appreciate reviews. Thank you so much for reading!

Reeniecat

******

Bruce settled awkwardly into the hospital easy chair. It was supposed to double as a make-shift cot for overnight visitors, but it felt more like a medieval torture device.

Earlier that morning, Jim Gordon had frowned at Bruce's request to stay.

"What the hell, Bruce? We're keeping an officer on watch, we don't need your help. Why would you want to be in the same room with that maniac ever again?"

Bruce had looked Gordon in the eye. "I know this is going to be hard for you to believe--but the Joker is our old friend, Jack Ramsey."

Jim's eyes had widened and he was silent for a moment before striding to the Joker's side and taking a long look at the scarred face. He'd shaken his head, amazed. "What on earth happened to him? My God, he just disappeared off the face of the earth--and now he's come to this?"

"I--I really don't know. Something terrible must have happened." Bruce had no intention of revealing just how much he knew about Jack's past. "He's not the same person we used to know, that much I can tell you."

"Apparently. So, why do you want to stay here? He kidnapped you, he set off a bomb, he--"

"We used to be friends." The tightness in Bruce's throat had made him pause for a second to take a deep breath. "He doesn't have anyone else. I want to be there when he wakes up. If he wakes up."

Jim had given Bruce a questioning stare. "That's very humanitarian of you. But, you need to consider the consequences of your actions. What did he want from you--money? Some sort of revenge? There's no telling what he'll do, what he'll say, now that his plan's been thwarted. You don't need to be associated with a man like that."

Bruce had laughed. "Funny, that's what everyone told me in high school."

"Well, maybe we were right." Jim had run a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying, be careful. He's capable of anything, and my advice is to distance yourself from him completely."

"I'm sure you're right. But, I just... I just want to see him one more time. Before he goes to prison, or whatever it is that the courts will decide." He'd turned and looked Jim in the eye. "We were very close, once."

Jim had nodded. He'd heard the rumors back in high school, although he had always dismissed them. "Just be careful."

*****

Bruce now stared at the still, slight figure covered with a blanket, bandaged, hooked up to various machines and IV drips. He thought back to the moment when Batman had made it to the Joker's side--he'd thought he was dead. The pool of blood leaking from the back of his head was growing wider, and there was no movement, not a twitch, not a jerk, but one of the officers had found a weak pulse and an ambulance was called. In the chaos of the bombing, it took a long time for one to get there.

It was miraculous that no one had died in the blast at the News. Bruce learned from one of Gordon's men that the Joker must have carefully planned for a time when no one would be in the part of the building where he planted the bomb, and while that wing was destroyed, the only injuries were to a couple of security guards who would suffer ringing in their ears for days.

Bruce sighed. After getting things straightened out for Alfred, he and Rachel had fallen into each other's arms and sobbed in relief at coming to the end of all of their ordeals. Only, Bruce's tears had been for Jack, as well. Regardless of how it came out, Jack's life was over, whether due to his fall down the stairs, or as a result of his crimes, or because of his own mind.

Bruce knew he should just walk away, but he couldn't.

The thought that a spark of Jack's old light might still be inside the man wouldn't allow Bruce to leave, wouldn't allow him to give up. Not just yet.

He finally dozed off and began dreaming, dreaming of Jack. They were teenagers again, and Jack was laughing as they tried to fix something on his car. "Come on Bruce--be a man about it! Put some muscle into it!" he'd teasingly chided as Bruce gave up on turning the wrench.

"It's frozen solid! There's no way we'll ever fix this!"

"I can fix it--with your help! Come on, help me, Bruce! Just--help me... Help me..."

The soft warmth of Jack's voice seemed to fade, and in his sleep, Bruce felt a catch in his throat as he stifled a sob. His love was slipping away, slipping away from him--the sorrow stabbed him so hard, he woke up, and heard a moan coming from the direction of the bed.

Bruce stood and went to the Joker's side. One eye was swollen shut, the other slightly open and he appeared to be trying to speak.

"It's ok. Don't talk." Bruce awkwardly patted his hand, one of the few parts of him not covered in bandages.

"Bruce..." he rasped.

"I'm here."

"Hurts..."

"Ok. I'll get a nurse. Lie still."

The Joker's eye wandered around the room for a moment, then he fell back into unconsciousness. Bruce pressed the call button and a nurse came in and checked his meds and made an adjustment. The officer monitored everything. Bruce sat down again.

A few hours passed and the Joker's doctor came in.

"I hear he woke up for a moment."

"Yes."

"That's a good sign."

Bruce nodded. "Have you determined the extent of his injuries yet?"

The doctor shrugged. "With head injuries, there's so much we can't be sure of. He sustained severe trauma to his brain. There's swelling, although there doesn't appear to be any internal bleeding. We may have to perform surgery, but that's not certain. He may be paralyzed, he could suffer a stroke, he could remain in a coma indefinitely. There's just no way of knowing at this time.

"And, he has a broken leg, three broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder, plus numerous abrasions. So, he's not going anywhere, for a while." The doctor shot a look at the officer, hovering nearby. He looked back at Bruce. "Let me know if he regains consciousness."

Bruce looked down at the man in the bed, broken and vulnerable. He wished he would wake up, wished they could talk like normal people and figure things out. But he knew the Joker's chance for a normal life was long gone.

*****

Days passed. Bruce had to work, but he brought his laptop to the hospital and did as much there as possible. No one understood his devotion, least of all Alfred.

"I'm sorry, sir, I am simply at a loss. Why you feel any sort of loyalty to that--that creature, after everything he put you and I through, I will never be able to fathom." Alfred's face was red and his lips formed a thin line as he pressed them together.

"I know. I know. But, Alfred--it's Jack. Somewhere inside that--creature, as you put it, is someone I used to love. If he recovers, I can't help but hope that I can still reach him. If he doesn't--well, I just want to be there. It may be the last thing I can ever do for him."

Alfred shook his head and turned away as Bruce packed up a change of clothes and headed to the hospital to spend the night.

*****

Bruce was dreaming again. This time, he was Batman and the Joker was teetering on the edge of a tall building. "Let me go, Bats," he said. "Just let me go." He leaned back, arms outstretched, and Batman saw the purple coat flutter up around him as he toppled over the side. "No!" he screamed as he tried to run to save him. But, his legs wouldn't work and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. He struggled awake and stood up to shake off the bad feeling. He stretched out his back and went to the Joker's side. To his surprise, his eyes were open.

The Joker's face relaxed when he saw Bruce and a small smile came to his lips. Bruce smiled back and said, "Hey--there you are."

A tiny nod in response. Then, his voice came in a thick, groggy rasp. "Everybody ok?"

Bruce sighed. He had no idea how to answer. He glanced over his shoulder at the guard--he didn't want him knowing the Joker was talking, not yet. He turned back and said, "You got hurt pretty badly."

Another little nod. "The car?"

Bruce frowned. "Car?"

The Joker tried to shift in the bed, but winced and gave up. "Yeah--is she totaled?"

Bruce pondered whether to go along with the apparently muddled thinking or to try to set him straight. Instead, he said, "I don't know. Do you remember what happened?"

"Car came at me. Ran off the road--turned over." The Joker stared at him, puzzled. "You know."

"Ok, Jack. It's ok. Don't worry about the car."

The Joker licked dry lips. "Water?" Bruce filled a cup and gave him a drink with a straw. He sipped gratefully and shut his eyes, and Bruce realized he was out again. He buzzed the nurse and let her know that the Joker had had another moment of consciousness.

*****

Another twenty-four hours passed, and Bruce decided to stay with the Joker. He was moaning and making small movements, and the doctor said this was a critical time--it was likely that he would either sink into a deep coma, or come out of it entirely. Bruce kept his vigil, making Alfred resentfully bring him work from home and decent take-out, although he refused to enter the Joker's room.

Bruce was busy reading emails when he heard a voice--Jack's warm voice--call his name. He snapped shut the laptop and got up. He quickly strode to the Joker's side and saw that he was fully awake for the first time. "Bruce--"

"I'm here." He tried to smile, not knowing what to expect. The Joker's face was contorted in pain.

"My head hurts real bad. And, I can't move. What happened?" He searched Bruce's face and held his gaze with a bewildered expression.

"You don't remember?"

"I was..in a hurry, trying to get to work. This car came out of nowhere--a woman and two kids. I swerved--I think I missed them, but I ran into the ditch. I must of turned over...everything's blank after that. Were they ok? I didn't hit them, did I?" Worried eyes bored into Bruce's and he stammered, trying to respond.

"You--you think you were in a car accident?"

"Are you mad at me? I didn't mean to wreck the car. I know you think I'm a shitty driver, but I--" The Joker choked slightly and began to cough and his eyes swam with pain. "Ow. My head really hurts, can I have some aspirin or something?"

"I'll get the nurse." Bruce noticed the guard watching and he whispered, "Stay quiet until I get back, ok?" The Joker nodded and Bruce headed for the nurse's station.

"He's awake. But, he doesn't seem to remember anything--he thinks he's been in a car accident." The nurse paged the doctor, and after a few minutes, he came to the desk.

"What's happened?"

Bruce recounted his conversation with the Joker and the doctor nodded. "Amnesia isn't unusual under these circumstances. He may have lost large blocks of time. As the injury to his brain improves, he should start getting his memory back. I'll go take a look at him."

The guard had already informed Jim Gordon that the Joker was conscious, and he told Bruce that he was on his way. Bruce waited until the doctor finished his exam and went back to sit with Jack. The injured man stared at Bruce questioningly.

"Am I in trouble, Bruce? How come I'm strapped down? Why's the cop here? Did I--did I hurt somebody?"

Bruce bit his lip. "Before the car accident--what's the last thing you remember?"

Jack stared up at the ceiling. Everything seemed fluid, amorphous, but there was something... He fought to grab onto it, to make it stop moving, to make it make sense.

Finally, he said, "I was late for work. I was worried about the physics test--I missed it, didn't I? I hadn't studied enough and knew I was going to blow it. I--I wanted you to help me study, but you were working for your aunt--not your fault, I just--"

Bruce spoke gently. "Jack--we're not in high school anymore."

Jack stared at him. "Huh?"

"High school was ten years ago."

Jack took a deep, pained breath and said shakily, "Something's wrong, Bruce, nothing makes sense. Nothing..." He closed his eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness, this time from the heavy dose of pain medication. Bruce called his name a few times, but no response. He sat down to wait for Jim.

*****

"So, what, exactly, did he say?" Gordon demanded.

"He said he was in a hurry to get to work, a car came out of nowhere, he swerved and ended up in a ditch. He seems to think we're back in high school. The doctor said that's not so unusual, given the extent of his injuries."

"Or, he's taking advantage of your kindness and faking it."

Bruce thought back to the look in Jack's eyes--pain, fear, worry--and shook his head.

"He's too badly hurt for that."

Gordon made a hmph'ing sound. "I wouldn't put anything past the Joker."

"Jim--please don't try to interrogate him just yet."

"Why not? He has a lot to answer for."

"I know, but--can't you give him a little time to recover?"

"It's been two weeks, Bruce. I want a full confession from him."

Bruce bit his lip, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Isn't it possible his crimes are a result of his compromised mental state?"

"Are you suggesting he's insane?"

"It's possible. What I saw was not the person I--we--used to know. The scars speak for themselves--he's gone through some horribly traumatic experiences."

"What do you want from me, Bruce? To let him off with a slap on the wrist? He put hundreds of people's lives at risk, he kidnapped Rachel and then you, plus who knows how many other crimes he committed before all this happened? He's a common criminal, that's what I think."

"I'm just asking you to keep an open mind."

"That's my job," Gordon snapped. Just then, the doctor came out.

"You can speak to him now, but don't take too long. He's very weak."

Gordon rolled his eyes and started to go in. Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I want to be in there."

"No."

"Please, Jim. If he really has lost his memory, he's not going to understand your questions, and he's going to be scared. It might help if I'm there."

Gordon considered, and the doctor nodded. Gordon sighed.

"All right. But be quiet. This is between him and me."

"I understand."

All three went into the room and Gordon approached Jack's side.

"Hello."

Jack opened his eyes, blinked, and suddenly smiled. "Hey--Jim! You came to see me. I didn't know you cared."

"I'm here to talk to you about the bombing."

Jack stared at him, bewildered. "Huh?"

"You boasted that you had placed a bomb in the Gotham News building. I need you to confirm that, and I have some additional questions regarding the kidnapping of Rachel Dawes and Bruce Wayne, and the plot to frame Alfred Pennyworth for murder."

Jack was watching his face and when he finished speaking, he broke into weak laughter.

"Damn, Jim, it's nice of you to try to cheer me up, but none of that makes any sense." He smiled slightly and looked past Gordon's shoulder to Bruce, then back to Gordon's grim face. "What?" he asked in a raw whisper.

"Please answer the question. Did you or did you not place a bomb in that building?"

Jack's smile faded and he bit his lower lip. "Are you serious?"

"Please answer the question."

"Bomb? I--you're kidding, right? Bruce? Why is he asking me about a bomb?"

Gordon shot a look at Bruce and he remained quiet.

"What is your answer?" Gordon persisted.

"I don't understand any of this. I'm tired, I want to go to sleep," Jack said softly. "Maybe things'll be back to normal when I wake up..."

Gordon motioned to his officer holding a note pad. "The suspect refuses to answer the question." The man jotted down the information and Gordon turned to leave. "I'll be back. I suggest you think about cooperating. That will be taken into consideration at your trial."

The door swung closed behind him and Jack looked again at Bruce. He frowned and asked, "What was that all about?"

"Jack--you weren't in a car accident. A lot of things have happened, and you're accused of setting an explosion, plus a few other things. You really can't remember?"

Jack's eyes fluttered and he said tiredly, "I remember fine. It's right now that I don't get. I'm just hallucinating, I guess. I'm going to sleep a little more. Be here when I wake up?"

"I'll be here." Bruce put his hand on his and felt a weak squeeze.

"Love you, Bruce."

Bruce's heart soared at the words, then came crashing down again. He smiled crookedly.

"Yeah... Go to sleep, now. Just go to sleep."

The doctor had listened to the entire conversation and made some notes. Bruce waited until Jack was asleep, then went out in the hall with him.

"What do you think?" Bruce asked.

"You'd know better than I. Is he telling the truth?"

Bruce drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I think so. But, I can't be sure. How can we tell?"

The doctor shrugged. "There's no definitive test to validate amnesia. At some point, I suppose he could be given a lie detector test, and the police may demand one anyway. But, I would say the people who know him best will make the most credible judges. Is there anyone else who could weigh in? Where are his parents, are there any siblings, anyone?"

Bruce shook his head. "Just me. I know him better than anyone." He looked hopelessly at the physician and shrugged.

The doctor added a note and said, "Well, we'll know more once he becomes more alert. I'll try to keep the officers from hounding him in the meantime."

Bruce nodded and decided he should grab a bite in the hospital cafeteria while Jack was asleep. Maybe with some food in his stomach, he could figure out what to do.