Shattered Identities

by Kittryn

The Joker finally decides to crash one of Bruces parties and no one knows as well as Batman how to catch the madmans attention. Bruce just never thought he'd use it without the mask to save lives. Unfortunately for him once you've got the Clown's attention you never lose it and the last thing Batman needs is a madman whispering in his ear while a new villain is trying to out him.

4. Chapter 4 - Bats, Cats, and Coo Coo Toys

Sup. Stuff. Notes. Robins in this one again. I'm almost 100% certain he's OOC but idk how they act so eh. Let me know if it bugs you.

Shattered Identities

Chapter 4

Bats, Cats, and Coo Coo Toys

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The Asylum hadn't changed much in a day, still run down, decrepit and full of corruption. Bruce had let them give him the run around for the last three hours, it wasn't a big deal. Barbara was already hacking into all of their systems and surveillances. Without the Joker to cut them off, it was almost a walk in the park for her. So he let the new warden, top doctor, Dr. Mengele lead him in circles, he couldn't quite figure out what her angle was. Why was she doing this? What was she even doing?

"Bruce." Oracle spoke into his ear piece and he smiled at the Warden acting like he was listening to whatever bullshit she was rambling off at the moment. She was sucking up to him, but he could see how livid she was underneath. How inconvenient his presence was to her. She turned out to be an older woman, mid forties, her hair was short dirty blonde. The kind you see on soccer moms who just didn't have time anymore. Her brow creased with worry lines, her cheeks deep from frowns. She had thin tight, pale lips and glassy eyes. Her smile never met those eyes, that held more intelligence in them when she thought Bruce wasn't watching.

"Some men went into the labs of the Intensive Care Facility. I don't have camera's in there. It seems they were removed. They're not even connected to the system anymore. Speaking of the system, it had a virus in it for anyone who came looking, I'm still dismantling it. Whatever they have down there, or in the labs past Maximum Security, if there are labs, they don't want us to see." She explained with a hint of frustration. Bruce supposed that was his queue to get something done. Falling into step with the woman instead of lagging behind her, he took control of the situation.

"The Intensive Care. I hear that's an exciting build. Can we visit there next?" Bruce spoke up leveling his gaze on the petite woman leading him around, the same doctor who had that man thrown to Croc not even yesterday, the woman he was going to tear down and make sure she never had a career in medicine again.

"I think that will be our last stop. How about we go to the medical facility next?" The woman replied cheerfully leveling him with a fake smile.

"How about, you stop leading me in circles, and just show me what you're hiding?" Bruce leveled her with a steady gaze, this would be so much easier as Batman. He could tie her up and tear this place apart physically, while his teammate tore it apart cyberly.

"Bruce." Barbara spoke up a disgruntled shock to her voice. "The inmate's they're moving in max security right now, they don't exist in the database. Bruce. Half these people shouldn't even be here." The Detective's gaze turned dark. This little game was over.

"Lock it down. Everything." He hissed, angrily ripping the key card out of the Warden's grasp. Sliding of metal and clanking of locks echoed around them as Barbara over road the system. The doctor gasped in surprise, spinning in circles as all of the door locks clicked into place. She leveled him with the most honest look she had given him all day, loathing.

"What did you do?" Mengele snarled at him and he took a step away from her, slipping the now useless card into his jacket pocket. Just for effect.

"I think it's my turn to do the leading. You can come or stay, either way you're stuck in the Asylum until I decide otherwise." Bruce informed her, a small smirk at her displeasure gracing his masculine features.

"How are you doing this?" She asked him with a scowl that twisted her face, making her look older then she was. Bruce chuckled turning away from her, he started towards the exit of the gardens, which they had spent the last hour "admiring."

"I've hired some friends." He muttered the doors opening for him as he met them, no key card needed.

"Let's take a little stroll." Bruce smirked, he made his way to the Intensive Care Facility with the good doctor trailing behind him, completely livid. Bruce dreaded walking through the Joker's containment room, but they had no choice. He could feel Mengele's heated glare on the back of his head as he made his way silently through the facility. The billionaire ignored the questions that were asked of them as they passed. It was obvious to everyone they were the only ones who could go anywhere. Bruce simply stated that they were on lock down, the doctor giving him a sour look. Many guards and workers they passed looked scared, while others looked satisfied at the situation, and the Detective made a note of them. They were coming up on the Joker's cell, the clicking of the doctors heels echoing through the hall as they neared.

"Hey! Whats going on Einstein? You're cramping my style right now? How am I supposed to get out if even you can't leave?!" The Joker's voice called from down the hall, accompanied by a short cackling laugh. The Clown was still chuckling when they passed into the threshold. A great inhale was heard, and the Joker jumped from his spot on the bed, rushing to the window, his skin pressing against the glass. The window still had the morbid smile dried onto it, oil smears littering the clear surface.

"Oh!" He squealed, "I knew you'd come back! Bruce babe! I missed you." The Joker whined grinning darkly from his cell. Pressing himself against the glass, he kissed the window drawing a smile despite the lack of blood this time. Bruce ignored him walking farther through the room, up to the door he presumed was for the new labs. Whatever was behind this door he would figure it out. Stop it, fix it, the Joker growled in the background not appreciating being ignored by the well dressed playboy.

"That's where the camera's stop Bruce. I can't help you anymore. I, really don't think you should do this." Barbara pressed the worry evident in her voice.

"I do feel a little under dressed." Bruce whispered with dry humor and she gave an equally dry laugh.

"You wanted to be Bruce Wayne." Yeah he did, because he could.

"Come on precious! What's a little asphyxiation kink between friends, huh?" There was a short pause, and a growl of irritation when the playboy didn't pay attention to him. Flesh slammed against the glass in frustration.

"I wouldn't go down there if I were you Brucy-Bru." Bruce turned towards the madman, taking in his sardonic smile, unbuckled straitjacket and frizzy hair.

"You never know what the wicked doctor has cooked up for you in her, uh, cesspool of a lab." The Joker growled out, Bruce could tell Dr. Mengele attempted not to freeze up at his words. The Detective met the madman's eyes, full of that crazed intelligence, and Bruce wondered if maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He wanted it done, he wanted to do it himself, but he wasn't Batman, no matter how much he felt inside, Batman was a suit, Bruce was flesh and blood.

"Insane until the last." The doctor laughed, brushing off the Clown's words. Bruce leveled her with a disgusted stare, scoffing.

"Then it's sad I believe him more than you." He whispered turning away from her, his attention back on the door.

"Maybe you belong in here then." She hissed at him and he smirked at her.

"Well, I do own the place. Maybe I should make Arkham manor a pastime retreat. Oh but, you're living there right now aren't you?" Bruce taunted tilting his head towards her to take in the woman's livid expression, this door was taking Barbara longer than the others. Eventually the door ground open, and the doctor couldn't keep the shock and fear off her face. Bruce frowned, turning fully towards the woman, it felt good to do something right, and maybe he was getting carried away, but he couldn't help it.

"You know, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let's start over, I'm Bruce Wayne." The playboy smiled sweetly, holding out a hand for the angry woman to shake. She stared at it for a second sizing him up, her lips a thin line of distaste. The Clown slammed a hand against the glass, starting up a steady bang with his forehead, when he didn't get the attention he needed.

"Elena Mengele." She finally stated taking his hand roughly in her own. Bruce's gave her his most dashing smile and the Joker growled in the background, muttering to himself.

"Its nice to meet you Elena." There was a small pause between them. He stared into her dead eyes, she stared back determinedly. When he just sat there looking sweet she finally started to reply.

"You as w – ." Bruce cut her off with a smirk, raising a finger into her face.

"Oh, you're fired and your doctorate is up for evaluation." The Joker cackled in the background as the Philanthropist turned to make his way down the new hall leaving the woman dumbfounded behind him. He smiled to himself as he strode down the small hallway towards the next door, where the hall took a turn, thinking that maybe cracking some jokes in front of the Joker wasn't a great idea. The Clown's laughter broke off abruptly, eerie silence reigning through the room. Where was her heels?

"Bruce!" The Joker shouted after him, just in time for him to turn around, the door clanked and he took a step back. It slowly slid shut behind him before he could move, a smirk on the woman's face as she type into her cellphone. The door closed with finality and the billionaire's stomach sank.

"Barbara cut all cellphone transmissions." Bruce tried quickly dashing down the hall, he turned the corner, he needed to find somewhere to hide. Something to hold. He should have shut down the weapon check when he showed up. Slipped something in.

"Oracle?" He called loudly coming to a metal door, it was locked of course, and suddenly the world tilted. The ground shaking violently, he fell sideways into the door, his ears ringing. Somewhere on the island something had exploded rocking the foundation.

"Oracle?" He tried again, moving farther down the steel hall afraid another explosion would hit closer to home. Finding nothing but locked doors as he went.

"Bru – Bruce?" Barbara's voice cut through, static attacking her transmission. He was getting tired of closed doors.

"Barbara!" The billionaire answered trying more doors lining the halls. He stopped briefly taking in the blood and gore through a windowed door, it looked almost like a surgical room, he couldn't see enough of it to tell.

"Bruce! The – static – facility – every where not – tentry – Bruce did you – static – hear me? Bruce?"

"You're cutting out." Bruce stated making his way past the closed doors, trying to find one that wasn't locked, he could hear shouts coming from farther down the hall. He didn't have much time. A sudden crackle echoed through the hall as speakers turned on, Dr. Mengele's voice echoing through the building.

"Hello Arkham staff and inmates, I've given you all free reign. While you're running around wreaking havoc, keep in mind that the person who kills Bruce Wayne or the Joker will be rewarded, promotion or freedom, depending on your position. Good hunting." Her voice cut off and Bruce realized that this situation just got ten times harder.

"Bruce? I boosted the signal. Can you hear me?" Barbara tried again, her voice clearer but still a little fuzzy in spots.

"Yeah I can." He replied shoving his body against another door, the voices growing closer, the metal wouldn't budge, there was no where he could jump to, no vents overhead. This wasn't going his way.

"Where are you?" Barbara asked her voice full of worry.

"In a hallway. Just past the door. What was that explosion? Whats happening?"

"Bruce you need to get out of there. Don't worry about anything else, alright? You can come back geared up, but don't stop until then." Bruce let out an irritated growl, he needed to know. Finally he found a utility closet that wasn't locked, slipping inside he shut the door, a man's screams pierced the hallway mere seconds later. Letting his eyes adjust he noticed a ventilation shaft big enough for him near the ceiling, the room was small, cluttered by decaying cleaning supplies, broken brooms and rusting containers. The screams grew in number, gunshots echoed into the room through the closed door.

"Barbara, I need to know what happened." He insisted snatching up a bucket he arranged it beneath the grate, wiping gunk off his hands onto his expensive pants.

"My lock down was cut off. The entire Intensive Care Facility is unlocked, everything Bruce. The cells, the gates, it's a madhouse in there. So is the rest of the asylum, I'd give you good news but there really isn't any. I'm calling police back up right now, but they won't be there for several minutes, if at that. Bruce you need to get out."

"I got it." Bruce said irritated, trying to pull the screws out of the grate when ripping it from the sockets only served to cut up his hands. The batman suit really was useful. Taking a quick glance around the room he found an object that fit into the sockets. It was still slow work. Screams echoed down the hallway.

"Bruce?" Barbara spoke up as the screams died down again.

"What?"

"Don't be a hero. Let Batman do that work."

"I'll get out Barbara." Bruce stated flatly, he got the picture already.

"Good, because the Joker's trying to follow you. Lucky, or, unluckily, the door doesn't seem to be opening, I think your section is still locked down." Bruce opened his mouth to comment when down the hall wretched screams and more gunshots sounded.

"Bruce don't." Oracle insisted, the pain at the chance of losing the Detective audible in her voice.

"I wasn't going to." Bruce reassured her, she was right, the fact that he couldn't get this stupid grate off was just proof that despite how he felt, Bruce Wayne wasn't Batman.

"Whatever she has down there, she locked you in for a reason." She added, the screams sounded louder this time, closer, inhuman almost. He was twisting the last screw off when a screech came from just outside the door. He clicked Barbara off, refusing to listen to her mothering while stuffed in a vent. He quietly removed the grate from its rusted position. The sounds in the hall went silent, shuffling could be heard, and something pressed against the door, jarring it, blocking out the light streaming beneath. Bruce hauled himself up into the dirty shaft keeping one hand on the grate, ignoring the feel of spiderwebs across his skin. Whatever was in the hall took long labored sniffs at the door, shifting his position he accidentally scraped his arm against the rusted side, drawing blood. A feral growl emanated from outside the room. The billionaire juggled the grate back into place just as the door knob turned.

In walked a definite crazy, but not one he had ever seen before. It's eyes were wide, animalistic, it's face and body covered in blood. It, he, was short and skeletal, his ragged shirt hung off a thin body. Bruce stared in horror at the man, staying as still as possible behind the vent as it sniffed around. Blood streamed down its face, drenching the little clothes he had on. The billionaire held his breath, hoping beyond hope, that the thing pawing around at the utilities and cleaning supplies wasn't a zombie, the last thing he wanted to deal with was zombies. He couldn't knock them out, was it considered murder if he killed one? He really wasn't sure and didn't want to find out.

"Nick!" A deep voice called from somewhere down the hall and the creature startled, sending an annoyed look towards the voice.

"Seriously, Nick if I have to come over there, I'ma beat your ass." There was a clicking of a gun.

"Here! Someone!" The man below him called out his voice scratchy and hoarse.

"What was that? Nick. Swear to god." The voice grumbled. "We need to get out of here. There are some crazies down here man and I mean fucking crazies." Boots sounded down the hallway and Bruce rearranged his grip on the grate, making his hold as invisible as possible. A taller man wielding a guard's gun, but not the uniform, came into the room. His hair disheveled, bits and pieces shaved off, his face pale, fresh thin scars littered his face, just like the skinnier man prowling the room like a dog. He wore an inmate's uniform, stained with old blood.

"Nick? Jesus. Nick. You," The man paused in horror taking in his blood covered companion, shock in his eyes.

"That was you? What the fuck man?" The taller male ran a hand through his choppy hair staring at the other in fearful despair, as if he didn't quite know what to do with this situation. The man closed his eyes pointing back down the hallway his mouth having difficulty forming words.

"You. Did that? God what. What did they do to you?" The man named Nick had the decency to look abashed, slumping his blood covered shoulders, he pouted a little. The older man sadly took a step forward placing a hand on the other's head, ruffling choppy hair. The shorter male brightened at the touch grinning up at the other.

"Jared, she said to find him." Nick stated sniffing around the room again, the taller male's brows creased further at his words.

"Who?"

"The man. He smells good. Like you except, clean." The elder male glared at him.

"Yeah well sue me. Let's go."

"But the lady." The smaller one whined glancing around the room again.

"Fuck her, if I ever see her again I'm putting fifty rounds through her skank ass body. Let's move." Jared turned around, his grip white on the gun he held. Reluctantly Nick followed, giving the room one last look. Bruce let out a small breath of relief before another screech made its way down the hall, his muscles instantly tensing again.

"God damn it! Nick! Fucking do that again and I'm going to punch you in the face." There was a small pause, then another screech sounded almost like the feral teen was baiting Jared. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the hall, and the scream was cut off with a strangled noise. Obviously the man kept his promise.

"We good?" The taller male asked his voice sounding gruff. A small whimper answered and the footfalls moved away. Bruce reached a hand up and turned Barbara back on, keeping his hold on the grate in the meantime.

"Barbara?"

"Oh god, Bruce. I was so worried, those screams were... What happened?"

"I don't know but I plan to find out."

"Vague."

"Whats going on up top?"

"Nothing really, most of the Max Security psychos are roaming the grounds... Some of the guards are dead." She added reluctantly and a little quietly. So more then some of the guards were dead.

"And some of the inmates." She tacked on quietly. So a lot of the inmates.

"Duvall?" Bruce inquired, waiting for any other sound to come down that hallway.

"Holed up in his bullet proof box."

"Good. You have a schematic for down here?"

"No. I guess we know where all that money went. According to the old building layout that place was just a single hallway, used for mostly storage."

"Its definitely not just a hallway anymore."

"Figured. Good news the cops are almost there. The bad news. The door down the hall is open now, meaning anything can get in, but in turn you can get out. Most of the inmates are outside by now or still rocking in their cells. The cameras are still working as well. I can help you escape if you want or you can wait for the cops. I'd prefer you waited for the cops."

"I'll take my chances." The Detective muttered his muscles getting tired from holding the grate in place. Barbara let out a frustrated sound.

"Remember Bruce, you're not Batman right now." She huffed an edge of anger to her tone. Bruce took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"I know." He gritted out, yes he didn't have the suit but he still could do things as Bruce Wayne. He wasn't helpless.

"I don't know about your hall, but the last people I saw leave was some guy and something covered in a lot of blood."

"I saw them too. Let me see if the coast is clear and I'll get back to you." Bruce let the grate slide quietly to the ground. Maneuvering his way out of the vent, careful not to cut himself again, thank god he was up to date on his shots, he dropped to the floor just as silently as he had gotten in. Bloody footprints now covered the ground, the appliances and cleaning supplies dotted with smudges of blood. Creeping to the door he peered around the edge. A small group of men littered the hallway several doors down. Two had their throats ripped open, while the other three had bullet wounds littering their body that looked like friendly fire. Blood pooled across the floor, slowly creeping its way towards the billionaire. Bruce tore his eyes away from the scene, silently making his way down the hallway, keeping his back to the wall just in case.

"I see you coming up. There shouldn't be anyone in the Joker's room. There are two inmates still in their cells, but they don't seem to be aware of their surroundings. As long as you don't spook them you should be f – Bruce behind you!" Barbara cried out and Bruce twisted around just barely catching the flailing body that launched towards him. He flipped them over onto the floor sparing no time in slamming their head into the cement. Effectively knocking them unconscious. He took a second after to stare down at the mutilated face of a human, its features warped and twisted with scars, sections missing, exposing drying muscles.

"What are they?" Oracle asked quietly over the headset, and Bruce wondered if he would be better off just shutting her off. He should have heard them coming.

"They're people." He stated turning away from the body, making his way through the rest of the hall.

"What happened to them?"

"I don't know, but we'll find out. Where's the Joker?" Bruce asked moving into the Clown's cell room, the cell empty, the sliding metal door stuck open, looking down the hall he saw all of the cells were the same. There were two guards sprawled out on the floor near him, one's neck was twisted at an odd angle, while the other had bullet wounds, blood splattered the Joker's window.

"He left a few minutes ago, before those two came out. He looked mad."

"Did he now?" The Detective asked amused, "Did he do this?" He added as an afterthought.

"What do you think? And not that mad, well he always looks 'mad'. Never mind. Just make sure you stay out of his way. I don't care how much it seems he likes you." Bruce chuckled quietly creeping past the Joker's empty cage.

"He tried to kill me yesterday, I don't think you have to worry about any disillusions on my part." Bruce informed her, he made his way to the hall lined with open cells, pressing himself against a wall he checked the first cell, the smell was atrocious, piss and body odor easily overpowering his senses.

"I'm not surprised, are you surprised?" The hall beyond didn't have any dead bodies, thankfully. Apparently none of the inmates wanted kill each other in here. It was a pretty long hall though, it was surprising only two inmates remained.

"Not in the slightest." Bruce replied moving past that cell to the next.

"Good. Now be quiet, you have one inmate on the left, three doors down. One on the right, two doors up from the last. I... I don't have sight on the last one. He was there, but I can't see him anymore, he's in a blind spot. Be careful." The billionaire nodded silently, easily making it to the first inmate. He could see the man, muttering to himself, staring at the corner of the padded cell, tapping his temple sporadically. His hair mussed and matted, his Arkham uniform stained with sweat. Bruce slipped by easily making his way to the end of the hall, trusting Barbara. He pressed himself against the wall near the cell with the inmate, the man inside paced aggrievedly back and forth, talking to himself.

"We should go, we should go, it's open. We should go. We can't go, where would we go? We could find one, if we go. Pretty, they're pretty, we want one. We want one." Bruce held back a groan of annoyance, every time he moved the man would turn around. He was about to make a dash for it when Barbara's voice damaged his eardrum.

"Bruce!" Oracle called her voice drowned out by a sudden shriek, turning the Detective barely grabbed the man's clawed hands, angling them away from his eyes, he felt a sharp stinging pain down the side of his face, nails meeting his skin. He fell hard to the ground, right in front of the other inmate's cell.

"Get out!" The inmate from inside the cell yelled, but Bruce couldn't do anything not with the crazy trying to scratch his face off. He felt nails rake down his check again, blood rushing to the wound. These were going to be hard to explain. Getting a knee under the inmate he shoved his weight backwards throwing the man off of him. His ribs took a hard hit knocking the breath out of him, his body slid across the floor, gasping he slammed into the edge of the open door across the hall, the door jamb digging into his other side painfully. His ribs ached where the inmate's foot connected with him.

"I told you to get out!" The man screamed at him, rushing out of the cell, Bruce braced himself for another hit, rolling to his side, ready to catch the man's foot. The hit never came as the frenzied man from before mauled the inmate, taking them both to the ground. The Detective watched in horror as the inmate's eyes were scratched to pieces, blood streaming down his temples, his inhuman screams echoing down the hall. Bruce caught movement in the corner of his eye, the muttering man from down the hall had walked out of his cell, still hitting his head he shuffled forwards slowly gaining momentum, in both his hitting and his walking. The Detective cautiously rolled to his stomach, making sure to move slowly, not catching the mauler's attention. He shuffled backwards, holding in the gasp of pain as he moved his leg, blood already seeping through his bandages. This wound would be a bitch to heal. He got fully to his hands and knees as the shambler broke into a run. Screams still echoing through the hallway, making it impossible for the billionaire to hear anything. Bruce scrambled to his feet awkwardly, his leg giving out half way up and he fell backwards, the muttering man rushing full force into the screeching mass of bloody inmates, toppling over the two he fell to the floor, crushing the billionaire's wounded leg. Grunting in pain, Bruce lifted his free leg slamming one expensive shoe into the inmate's face, once, twice. He could hear Oracle yelling at him, panicked, but couldn't process what she was saying. He kicked him for a third time and the man went limp. The Detective placed his bloodied shoe against the man's slumped shoulders, pushing him off his injured leg. Sliding away from the inmate he looked up, the screaming had stopped. The mauler stood up hovering over the dead body breathing harshly. They stared at each other with a moment of silence and Bruce could finally hear Oracle's words.

"Hide, Bruce! Behind you! Oh god, Bruce! Get out of there! Do something! Get down!"

The billionaire could hear footsteps behind him, a click of metal and Bruce pressed himself back against the ground. Bullets rained over him, shredding through the crazed man hovering near him, blood and flesh flew through the air splattering the walls, floor and ceiling. His body fell in pieces to the floor, blood pooled on the ground near Bruce, his suit and face splattered with blood. There was a click of metal, the gun empty, and the fake playboy wanted to sigh in relief.

"I'm sorry Bruce, I'm so sorry, I didn't see the third one, I had thought and I wasn't watching, God, I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention. This is all my fault." Bruce really wanted her to stop talking, he needed all of his senses, but he couldn't say anything, couldn't draw attention to himself. There was a clattering of metal against the floor behind him and the new inmate rushed, past him. It was a younger woman, the Arkham uniform hanging off her delicate frame, her hair just as matted and tangled as the rest of them. She stood transfixed over the bodies, staring down at the mass of blood and flesh. She fell to her knees in fascination, placing a shaking palm into the pool of blood, the hall eerily quiet. Only her heavy breathing echoing through the room.

"Bruce are you okay? Please be okay!" Bruce hastily reached up, clicking Oracle's channel off. The woman stiffened her eyes glancing around the hallway, before turning back to the blood. Silence reigned and the woman shuffled back a little, drawing designs on floor where the pooling blood had yet to take. The Detective took a slowly moving backwards, he put some distance between them. Finally he rolled onto his stomach, making his way quietly to his feet. He briefly took in the view before him, guards and inmates were strewn across the floor. Windows were shattered in the guard station, blood dripped down the wall out of one window, blood splattered across the glass.

The guard that had offered to accompany him yesterday lay wide eyed on the ground a few feet from him. Bruce turned away, looking back, making sure the female inmate was still preoccupied in her sick pastime. Clicking Oracle back on he was met with the same mantra or worry. He could really use her sight right now, but he couldn't say anything. Creeping past the edge of the gate, he crouched down, moving slowly into the room, trusting Barbara would say something other then apologies if he actually needed to know something. Sweeping the room for any sign of movement he crept towards the edge of the platform. He hesitated briefly, before dropping down silently to the ground below, disturbed by the artwork drawn in human blood on the walls and beneath his feet. A shuffling movement came from up ahead. Gritting his teeth he made his way out of sight, his leg protesting violently against the movement.

"Oracle, I need you. To be my eyes." He whispered as quietly as possible, finding his way to some pipes. He waited for any more signs of movement.

"I know, I know. You should be fine I can't see anyone out there, that doesn't mean there isn't anyone, Bruce just hide somewhere and let the police handle it. They're almost there." She pleaded, and Bruce rolled his eyes.

"No. I need to get back here, I need to help."

"No you don't! Bruce just stop!"

"Then I'll do it without you." Bruce growled, placing a hand on his earpiece, he didn't have time for this.

"Bruce don't! You're bleeding everywhere."

"Barbara. I can do this. I am, Batman." He whispered quietly glancing around, and the woman sighed, when she remained silent he left the channel open, slowly making his way across the room.

"Fine, but if you die, it's not my fault." She gritted out.

"Sounds fair." Bruce muttered, stopping he peered around a corner, meeting eyes with a terrified guard hiding behind some pipes. 'Stay there,' he mouthed, and the guard stared at him like he was crazy when he moved on. The rest of the way was easy sailing and he was almost to the main entrance of Intensive Care when Oracle spoke up. Having avoided all the crazies so far without incident. Barbara had been right, there weren't many left inside.

"There's a group of men heading towards you, they're all armed. They look like guards but, you never know..." Bruce glanced around, dashing into a side office he pressed himself against the wall, voices echoed through the hall. Electricity sparked from a broken monitor, his hand left blood smeared on the metal. Glancing behind him he took in the room, papers strewn across the floor, blood pooled near his shoes. He shuffled away from it looking up.

"He's gotta be here, Jim said he didn't come out, you were watching the entire time right Jim?"

"Yeah mostly. That freak got me in the arm. I'm going to need shots, man." The voices echoed to him, gruff and vulgar. A guard sat slumped over onto his desk a gun in his hand, a bullet wound to the back of his head. Blood pooled on the table streaming to the floor where it formed a growing puddle.

"Yeah, we can do that after we've got The Joker. If anything comes out of this shit, it'll be his dead body."

"And we get a bonus! Woot woot."

"Check all the rooms, wouldn't want that bastard to get away. You know how sneaky he is." Bruce silently cursed to himself as their footsteps got closer. He slipped farther into the room, rushing forward he grabbed the body, pulling it a little. He got onto his stomach in the pool of blood he reached back up giving the dead man one last tug. The body fell onto him, crushing him against the ground, the philanthropist rearranged the body as much as he could before the footsteps reached the door. Turning his head away from the entrance he slowed his breathing, his cheek smeared with blood. A single pair of boots stalked into the room mere seconds later, shuffling around, checking it out. Blood soaked into his jacket, matting his hair, it was still warm, the copper smell assaulting his senses. Footsteps came closer and the guards body shifted on top of him, something pressed down on the body, pressing Bruce deeper into the blood, crushing his already bruised ribs.

"Poor Derek." The man muttered, the pressure lifting, and the boots in the hall paused.

"Shit! Not Derek! I used to take his lunches, great stuff. His wife cooks amazing food, wouldn't mind getting a piece of that ass."

"Hey! Now you can!" Someone answered.

"Yeah guess you're right!" The group laughed, and Bruce's stomach turned, wishing he could pound their faces in. Seconds later the boots exited the room, the groups footsteps echoing down the hall. The sound of electricity was the only sound left after. He felt blood trickling down his neck and knew it wasn't his.

"Okay, you're clear." Barbara finally stated, "Outsides a mess though, if you stick to the shadows you might make it, but people are all over the place out there. I won't be able to help you much." He pushed the body off of him, he'd never been covered in so much blood, not someone else's. It took him a second to get his bearings. Get over the feel of it on his skin, in his clothes and hair. How the cool air made it thick and cold. He peeled himself off the ground a Bruce shaped imprint in the blood left behind before he dropped the dead body back to the floor.

"What happened to Dr. Mengele?" Bruce asked darkly, curious if she slipped out before the madness, or during it. This was all her fault, these deaths were on her, and he was going to make sure she saw justice. Making his way stickily back to the hallway, he tried to ignore how drenched and irritating his suit felt.

"She's in the mansion. Barely made it, from what I saw." Barbara replied, while the new proud owner of Arkham quickly made his way over the bodies lining the last hallway to the exit.

"Good." The Detective muttered darkly, placing one hand against the door to the outside he let it creak open, just enough for him to fit. He peaked out quickly, when nothing attacked him he slipped out rushing to the closest bushes, ducking behind them before anyone could see him. He surveyed the area, taking in the chaos it really was. It wasn't very far to the front gate, but the grounds were a war zone. Inmates had taken over one of the guard towers, the other still occupied by the guards. Bullets rained across the clearing, embedding in the walls, shooting up the shrubbery. Bodies littered the ground, their blood soaking into the soil, a downed man near him coughed pathetically, blood gurgling out of his mouth, one hand lying uselessly against one of his many wounds. A pack of inmates brawled near the base of the guard tower, while some were simply crouched behind bushes, muttering to themselves. Bullet shells decorated the ground like morbid snow, new ones joining them every few seconds, sprinkling from the guard tower.

"I told you hiding would be better." Oracle muttered defiantly. Bruce sighed in irritation, charting out a safe path to the exit. If he circled around the left, sticking to the bushes and making his way to the ruins, he should be able to make it without getting shot or mauled.

"Bruce, please, just wait, the police are setting up roadblocks right now. It'll be less than ten minutes for them to get there." The Detective frowned at that. He couldn't afford to be held up by the police for questioning, Batman had to be here, while Bruce Wayne should not.

"Oracle send the Bat Mobile, I would like to get out of here without talking to the police."

"You know they'll hunt you down, once they realize you own the place." Barbara stated dryly while Bruce wiped his blood covered palms on his just as dirty Armani suit pants, his butt being the other thing not covered in blood.

"Delete all of the footage of me. They don't need to know I was here." Bruce decided taking another look at the chaos around him, again. Whatever was happening with the fist fights, someone had apparently won, because there was a smaller group now huddled behind one of the buildings, taking cover from the guard tower, a few more bodies had joined the already downed ones.

"Your car?" Barbara asked, doubt in her voice.

"Alfred dropped me off. I didn't want a Lamborghini sitting in the parking lot of Arkham." Oracle huffed in frustration.

"Alright, it's done. Bruce. Please don't do this."

"Stop trying Barbara." The Detective gritted out, checking his next cover for any signs of movement.

"Fine." She answered dryly. Bruce crept out from his coverage when the inmates closest to him had their backs turned, arguing with each other behind the building. He slowly made his way to the left keeping in the shadows. It helped that his undershirt was no longer white, but red wasn't that better of a color. He stopped near the entrance heading towards the penitentiary, surveying his surroundings again. He was just about to dash across the opening when the door opened and a few guards ran in, armed, and started shooting immediately. Culling down the inmates that were hiding behind the building before they could move a muscle. Bruce crouched back down, letting the guards run past him only to be shot down immediately by the inmates in the tower. Bruce closed his eyes, refusing to watch more people die. Taking a second he smeared dirt across any visible white left on him, mostly the back of his collar. The door to the next area closed slowly, just before it shut an inmate dashed out of a bush on the other side the entrance, where he had been planning on hiding, letter opener in hand, the inmate slipped through the door.

Bruce waited a few seconds after the door closed, realizing what a disaster that could have been. If he had been stabbed on top of his already sustained injuries he wouldn't be coming back here tonight. Taking a few more seconds to examine the the chaos he waited for a lull in the raining bullets. When the guards shot at the inmates across the way he dashed across the open space. Falling into the bushes before the inmates could return fire. He wanted to take some time to get the feeling back into his leg, he could feel the blood soaking into his pants, mingling with the guards, but could only feel a deep seeded throb from his injury. He needed to get it taken care of and quickly. He had one last dash to make before he was in the ruins protected by the decrepit walls from stray bullets. He waited for another attack from the guards, before dashing forward, but someone ran out of bullets and the inmates returned fire sooner then they should have. A bullet landed in the ground in front of him, barely missing. He froze for only a second, rushing forward as the bullets started to rain, a sting shot through his arm and his good leg, before he dived into the ruins. He rolled clumsily landing in a heap, bullets chipped away at the building's walls. Stray bullets slipping through the cracks rained brick down upon him, dust falling into his eyes, making him blink rapidly, half blind.

"Bruce are you okay? Bruce!" Oracle shouted over and over again. He covered his eyes with one arm, keeping the debris out of his eyes, ignoring the sting he turned to take in the blood gushing down his other bicep. When there was a lull in bullets, Bruce ripped the jacket open farther revealing a deep gash in his arm. Blood spilled out of it, but there was no bullet, just a deep cut. Turning to his leg he rolled the pant up, blood trickled down his calf, but it was definitely a more shallow wound then his arm.

"I'm fine Barbara, calm down." He finally stated, deciding to get a move on before they started shooting again, he crouched down moving farther through the ruins, keeping pressure on his arm. He could hear shouting on the other side, the bullets started up again, but they were behind him now, near the guard tower. He could feel exhaustion pull at him, he had lost enough blood that it was finally affecting him. There was a movement behind one of the walls, white flashed, muttering, but it didn't seem like the inmate was moving much. Bruce moved past them, careful not to make any noises, trying to get a glimpse of the hidden inmate all he saw was their back bent over on themselves, blood splatters everywhere. Turning away he made it to the end of the ruins, the gate just a short distance ahead. Trees, bushes and debris littering the way for him. Taking his time he glanced around, trying to catch any other inmates hiding in his path. Deciding he was safe to move farther he rushed out, he made it two steps when noise sounded from behind him. He fell into a crouch behind some discarded junk hidden behind some bushes, twisting around his eyes widened.

"Barbara, I thought you said the Joker had left."

"I lost track of him, why? Bruce?" Bruce reached his hand up cutting her off. He didn't need the distraction not with the madman's crazed eyes zeroed right on to his injured self.

"Hey there, sweetheart. Aren't you looking great! Red is definitely your color." The Joker giggled, he was covered in more blood then Bruce was. The Detective glanced behind him, not willing to turn his back to the Clown. He wasn't sure he could make it with his injuries, not right now. Blood dripped off The Joker's hand spattering to the ground and Bruce wondered if not all of that blood belonged to other people, it was strange seeing the male injured by someone other than Batman.

"I was wondering when I would find you." The madman sung stepping closer to Bruce. The Detective couldn't afford to let him get closer, so he took a chance, dashing to the next covering. His leg faltered and he stumbled rolling into the bushes ungracefully, his hands slapping the ground painfully. Shouting came from behind him, a vicious snarl, and someone was clawing at his legs, ripping him backwards, nails digging into his calf, ripping his shallow bullet graze open farther. Flipping over he immediately kicked the Joker hard in the face. His nose crunched, teeth clattering together, the madman fell off of him. Bruce scrambled to his feet making a mad dash for the exit. Bullets chipped the tree ahead of him and he dropped to the ground instantly to avoid getting shot, wood chips rained down on him.

"Come back here!" The Joker called after him scrambling to his feet as well. He ignored the bullets, barely faltering in his steps when one pierced his shoulder. The madman stumbled to stand over Bruce, blood streaming down his scarred face. The playboy started a slow shuffle backwards, staying as close to the ground as possible, ready to intercept the crazed male if he jumped on him again. The bullets stopped and it seemed the Joker had a different plan, jerking off course he placed blood soaked hands over a large rock, lifting it from the ground with a demented smile, he turned towards Bruce, a feral insane grin bursting at his lips.

"How about! We rearrange that look a little! I think you need a bit more, scars! We can make jackets, sweetheart!" The Joker laughed lifting the rock over his head, Bruce tensed, his muscles ready to roll out of the way the second the man twitched, but he didn't have to. The Joker's head exploded in a shower of blood, brains, and bits of bone, the rock fell with a violent thud, his body jerking with every bullet that riddled it. A gun clicked empty, the body finally falling to the floor in a crumbled heap. Turning his head slowly The Detective stared dumbfounded at a guard. The man was standing bow legged, his eyes wide, a machine gun in his pale white knuckled grip.

"Is he dead?" The man stuttered fearfully letting the gun fall to the ground. The billionaire shook his head, shocked.

"You need to hide. Get out of here." Bruce insisted scrambling to his feet again, he checked the tower full of inmates, thankful they hadn't noticed them yet.

"Now." Bruce stated rushing towards the exit, the guard ran after him fearfully.

"Those won't open. Not unless you have a key card we don't have! And any bastard that had one is already gone."

"I don't need a key." The detective said, clicking Oracle back on.

"Barbara?"

"Bruce. What the hell happened?"

"I'll explain later I'm at the door,"

"I know, it's open." Oracle stated, Bruce pulled the handle almost falling at how easily it turned, he pushed it open and they slipped out.

"Barbara watch the door let anyone not an inmate out."

"Will do Bruce. Now get out of there."

"Will do, Barbara." The Detective mocked limping his way out.

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

The batmobile wasn't hard to find, treating his wounds took longer then he wanted, and getting back to the asylum, now raided by GCPD, took forever. All Batman had to do now, with the help of Robin, something he didn't approve of, was clean up any stand offs the police were encountering. They made quick work of those encounters, sticking around afterwards to watch the clean up. Bruce and Tim were standing in the shadows on top of the asylum ruins near the front, watching the police clean up the mess with countless body bags. Robin was leaning against the wall staring down at a pool of blood on the ground. A mess left by the broken, shredded body of the Joker.

"It seems a little. Un-climatic." Robin whispered in a stunned awe leaning against a crumbling wall, watching the blood slowly soak into the ground.

"It was. If he wanted to die with a bang, he should have just let go in Arkham City." Batman growled following Tim's gaze.

"Yeah, now that was a shock, you remember when the call came in, that he was alive." Robin recalled a smirk on his face, meeting Bruce's eyes. Batman chuckled shaking his head in remembered disbelief.

"I carried him. Out of Arkham City. It took me, at least fifteen minutes. He was cold Robin. Disfigured. Dead. The amount of serum he lapped up, it shouldn't have been enough."

"But it was, that guy, he was insane but, he was a survivor. He took your beatings pretty well." Robin joked punching the Bat in his bad arm. Bruce hissed gripping his now bandaged wound, leveling the teen with an aggravated look.

"Sorry," Tim muttered holding up his hands in surrender. They sat in companionable silence for several more minutes, watching more body bags be carried out.

"I'm glad he's gone." Robin muttered pushing away from the wall, Bruce hummed in agreement, trying to imagine what the world would be like without the madman. Quieter that was for sure, less chaotic, less mysterious, confusing. Suddenly his com turned on, he could hear Barbara breathing on the other side, he frowned. Could hear her almost start talking but, stop herself.

"Oracle?" Batman called and Robin stopped walking towards the edge of the building, turning his attention back to his mentor, who looked tired, scabbing scratches just visible trailing out of his cowl.

"Bruce. I mean, Batman. I, you said you saw The Joker, uh, die?" She asked confusion evident in her voice. Robin clicked on his own line, tapping into theirs.

"Yeah, right in front of me. Don't worry Oracle I'm not going to be losing any sleep over it."

"I wouldn't doubt that, because... God I can't believe I'm saying this." She exhaled almost painfully. Bruce stood in silence waiting, almost knowing he didn't want to hear it just as much as she didn't want to say it.

"Come on Babs, stop making us wait." Robin stated, echoing through the line, impatiently crossing his arms even though the woman couldn't see it.

"He's taken hostages. On the clock tower in the old church." Silence reigned on both ends after her rushed words.

"I, What? That. Can't be, I saw him die. He was in front of me. His head exploded." Bruce muttered confused, placing one hand on his ear piece to make sure he was hearing her correctly.

"I saw the body." Robin confirmed with equal confusion.

"Yeah well, Vicki has it all over the news right now, Batman, it's him. I can see him, it's him."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know but you should get over there. He has them dangling from the sides. I don't think he'll wait much longer." She informed him and Bruce was afraid to ask.

"What is he waiting for?" There was another pause, the silence hanging over the line, like she was surprised he had to ask.

"You."

"Of course." It took several seconds for Bruce to process this, it wasn't possible. Clayface must be back. There was no possible way the Joker was still alive. He had just seen his face splattered over the ground. It wasn't possible, it just wasn't. Was it? Something was happening here and he didn't have all the information. For now. But he would get to the bottom of this, right now he had a Clown to stop.

"Want me to come? You're not really, at the top of your game." Robin muttered grabbing the older male's forearm before he could take off.

"No. I want you here. I don't want you anywhere near The Joker. He's a loose cannon. I won't risk it." Batman leveled his partner with a piercing look, daring him to fight it.

"And you think I'd risk you?" Tim asked incredulously, his grip tightening on his mentors arm, irritated at the man's constant stubbornness. Bruce's face softened under his cowl, he turned towards the teen, the kid always knew what to say. Placing both hands on the boy's shoulders he squeezed reassuringly, meeting nothing but rigid muscle and an irritated glare.

"I know. This isn't fair, and it's risky, but he won't kill me Robin." His grip tightened.

"He will kill you. You made a promise." The teen broke eye contact at those words, looking back up pain evident in his blue orbs, they stared at each other unblinking. Bruce's jaw tight, Tim's stature rigid, both unwilling to back down. Finally Robin sighed letting his head fall forward in defeat.

"Fine. It's stupid, but you're right. He won't kill you, and, he would kill me. Your lucky I made that promise." Tim glared up at him, and Batman smirked back, ruffling the kid's hair.

"It's why I asked for it." Robin shook his head, his lips parting to release a frustrated gust of air, slipping out of the man's palm.

"Look if things go south. Promise me. No." He growled in agitation grabbing the man's arm tightly, "Promise. Me." Tim stated more forcefully, when Bruce didn't seem to be taking him seriously. "You will call me in. Promise." Batman gritted his teeth, his jaw line stiffening.

"I promise." He gritted out, not meeting the teen's eyes.

"Good. You better get going, wouldn't want any more bodies under your belt tonight." Robin joked, Batman leveled him with a disgruntled glare.

"This wasn't my fault." He growled looking back at the carnage over the grounds, Tim laughed awkwardly, he had meant it as a joke, but his anger got the better of him.

"I didn't mean it like, you're right, it's not. It's that doctor's fault. Speaking of, I'm going to search for anything I can find on her." Robin agreed, willing to spend hours tracking down everything on the woman to fix his momentary lack of control.

"Sounds good." Bruce said his heart feeling heavy all the same.

"Don't keep me in the dark on this one." Robin added staring Batman down. Bruce brushed the gaze off, jumping off the crumbling building, making a beeline for the Batmobile parked outside the gate. A com opened up just as Bruce touched down on the blood soaked ground, near the door out.

"I mean it, don't leave me in the dark." The teen's voice came over his earpiece.

"Fine, Robin. Don't you have a doctor to track down?"

"You're impossible."

"Runs in the family." Bruce countered, Robin laughed joyously loving when they were group together as a unit, reminded that despite being an orphan he still did have a family.

"Yes it does." The teen chuckled, cutting the line. Batman let a smile mold his angular lips, slipping out the door.

XxxxxxxxxxxxX

Batman swallowed hard, crouched on a grungy rooftop, gritting his teeth. Barbara hadn't been lying. It was the Joker. It looked like the Joker. Catcalled like the Joker. The madman stood on top of the tower, the giant bell resting above him, his voice echoing irritatingly through it. The Clown had a megaphone, cackling away as he toed the ropes holding his latest victims from falling to their deaths, watching them scream, swinging dangerously against the side of the building. Taking a deep breath, The Bat opened a com-link to Robin, he could actually use his help, but only if he would stay away from the Joker. A helicopter hovered in the air a good distance away from the tower, at least Vicki had learned her lesson in Arkham City.

"Robin."

"Holy shit, are you actually calling me? Are you okay? I'm on my way." He answered over the link, Batman could hear him running across buildings, wind rushing through the microphone.

"I'm fine, I need you to rescue the civilians while I keep The Joker occupied. There's no way I can save them and keep him from noticing. I could take him down, maybe before he cut any ropes, but I don't want to risk it."

"I'm almost there."

"How close were you?" The Detective narrowed his eyes as the com went dead.

"Hey." Robin's voice called from behind him and Batman rolled his eyes.

"Of course." Bruce muttered, Tim had the decency to smile sheepishly at him when he gazed over his shoulder. Turning back around Batman surveyed the situation again.

"Here's the plan," He started as Robin took his place beside him, crouching down and taking in the situation as well. "I'm going to go in there, play the Clown's sick game. While you silently bring down the civis."

"Gotcha." Robin stated ready to push off, and get started.

"Robin." Batman grabbed his shoulder stopping him, the teen looked at him their eyes once more.

"You can't let him know you're there. The second he realizes he's losing leverage – ." The teen ripped out of his grip.

"I can do this." Robin insisted leveling Batman with a hurt indignant expression.

"I know you can. It's why I called you, but if anything happens, anything, if he sees you, get out." Bruce stated with finality, turning his sights back to the tower, he pushed off, easily gliding his way silently into the building. The walls were chipping apart, just as decrepit as most of the lower class areas. The clock high above them, its gears and levers no longer turning, frozen in time until someone decided to care. The bell, situated in the center, hovered like a giant, it's rusted brass reflecting blurred images, a dash of black, a smudge of purple. The Clown froze on the other side of the open space, pillars and archways the only thing lining the open platform, his back to The Bat, as if he could simply feel his mere presence. The madman did a tiny dance, his joy so vast not a sound escaped his throat, spinning around slowly he threw his arms open in greeting, his mouth moving wordlessly a few times.

"Bats! Baby! You have no idea! How much I've miiiii-ssed you!" The Joker squealed excitedly, his hands coming up to frame his crimson smeared lips in joy.

"Look at you! I mean really, Look. At. You. Sweetheart! I'm so glad you could make it!" He laughed happily

"Oh, I'm sure they're ecstatic to see you as well." The madman stage whispered pointing down to his hostages with a giggle. Batman took a few steps to the side, the Joker mirrored him, starting up their little dance.

"I thought you died." The Bat stated as they paced around the building, a gentle wind blowing through, the bell above them not even paying it any attention, his cape however rustled in the breeze, the Joker's hair swayed, their eyes locked on each other.

"Oh trust me, babe, I thought I was dead too! But, Batsy! I couldn't leave you! Not all to your lonesome, grim self." The Joker smirked, Bruce narrowed his eyes, something wasn't quite... falling into place, never mind that, he had to keep the Clown distracted.

"I saw your head explode." Batman grunted, maybe he could get something out of him, stopping their little spin around the room, his boots scuffing the ground. The Joker licked his lips frowning, he click his tongue once raising an eyebrow in wonder.

"Now, that. That! Must have been fun! Whatever you were on sweetheart you should let me try it! I bet we'd have a blast together! The you and I." He chuckled rolling onto the heels of his feet, his gloved hand gesturing between them. Pursing his lips he gave The Bat a once over. Taking in his firm muscles and rigid plains. His angular jaw line, and sharp lips, the small scratches gracing his lower cheeks. Bruce took the small pause to take in the man's disheveled suit, obnoxious pattern shirt, purple gloves, pressed pants. His scared lips, white teeth, green hair falling playfully into his even more vivid green eyes. Eyes that refused to leave him, full of a glazed madness.

"Really though, sweetheart, that must have been some dream you had, nightmare really. I mean. Me! Dead? As if. We've had that scare before, now, haven't we?" The Joker asked with a smile, eyeing Batman for a reaction, a sneer pulled at his lips when the vigilante didn't answer.

"Scarecrow got your tongue?" The clown questioned tilting his head with smirk, Bruce gritted his teeth, he didn't feel like playing games tonight, his leg was killing him, his arm throbbed painfully. He could feel exhaustion pulling at him, but this was nothing compared to the night in Arkham City, then again he didn't have two full fledged bullet wounds that night. He may have been dying but he'd take dizzy spells over this sharp pain any day. No, he took that back. Dizzy spells were more dangerous.

"What do you want Joker?" Batman growled irritated, his eyes narrowing onto the Clown, flexing his gloved hands, his cape swaying more as the wind picked up. The Prince of Anarchy took a step back like the vigilante had been slapped. His hand to his chest dramatically.

"Want?!" The Joker asked incredulously, fixing with a wide eyed stare, frowning he leaned forward tilting his head down.

"What have I always wanted, Batsy?" He asked in a whisper.

"I don't know." The caped crusader stated, he wanted to cross his arms, but didn't want to risk inhibiting his movement, so he settled for flexing his gloved hands.

"Oh don't be like that! You. Know. You know! You, will always! Know. It's there hiding, but you know." The Joker ranted cryptically and all Batman wanted to do was smash his face in.

"Come on guess, Sweetheart! Just take a guess. Oh!" The Clown jumped in his spot, suddenly terribly excited, he snapped his gloved fingers a few times, like he was thinking of something.

"We'll make it game out of it! Shall we?! For every time you get it wrong. We'll drop one of these beautiful people to their deaths!" The Joker cackled kicking one of the ropes merrily, a grin plastered on his face. Then he froze, his smile falling off his lips, cocking his head to the side, he hooked his foot around the rope, moving it violently so it swayed a little against the edge of the building. Then he listened, Batman held his breath. Robin wasn't done yet. The Joker kicked it again and a scream sounded, after a long second. The madman, looked a little skeptical but turned back to him with a sheepish grin.

"The help these days am I right? So let's play sweetheart! Guess number one!" He giggled throwing one gloved finger up in delight.

"I'm not playing your games." Batman growled taking a step to the side, starting up their dance again.

"Well that's no fun Bats. Let's give you a little incentive shall we?" The Joker growled back, crouching down near one of the ropes, a pocket knife flashing in the moonlight.

"Joker don't." The Detective shouted holding out a gloved hand, taking a step towards him, and the madman leisurely turned to him, knife held taut against the rope, waiting for the man to make any sudden movements.

"Guess one, Bats." The Joker smiled sadistically at him. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to think of the answer the madman was looking for.

"Let's make it a count down?" The Prince of Anarchy suggested, just as the vigilante's communications came to life.

"Ten."

"Hey." Robin's voice came over the line, "It's done. Have fun in there, he's got nothing."

"Nine." Batman let out a breath of relief, he leveled the Joker with a smirk, who in turned narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Eight."

"Thanks." The Detective muttered back to his partner and the Clown cocked his head to the side, the smile falling from his painted lips.

"Seven?" The Clown said almost as if he wasn't too sure about this idea any more.

"Alright Joker. I'll play your game." Bruce gave in, trying to keep the satisfied smirk off his face. The Joker stood back up, watching Batman suspiciously. The Detective took a few steps towards the ledge to his left, almost like he was going to start up pacing, before turning back to the Clown with a scowl.

"I'm here. For your own sick perverse idea of fun." Batman growled at the madman, who smirked back at him. The madman made a disappointed sound in the back of his throat, taking a deep breath through his nose.

"Not quite." The Joker gushed, quickly crouching he sliced through a rope, his muscles tense ready to dash away from the angry Bat... but nothing happened. Batman didn't jump at him furious, didn't try to save his victims from falling, screaming to their death. Screaming. The realization dawned on the Clown's face, and he rushed to the edge, crouching down he peered over, gaping down at the empty ropes hanging harmlessly over the sides. It was Batman's turn to chuckle darkly, it was about time he got his own laugh on the Joker. He paced to the right, taking his time on walking across the area.

"What's wrong Joker? Not the help you wanted?" The Detective mocked and The Clown turned towards him from his crouched position with an angry scowl, his fingers clawing at the ground. Bruce stopped on the other side of the open space, watching the Joker's feral eyes trail after him. Batman crossed his arms, muscles sliding under black Kevlar, pushing at the fabric as his muscles bunched. He leaned against a pillar casually, not turning his back to the man, his cape flapping a little less gently now that he was closer to the edge.

"So tell me, Joker. What is it that you want?" Batman asked deeply, starring the Joker straight in the eye, the eyes that met his with an unfamiliar madness. Bruce's eyes narrowed on The Clown, who opened his mouth to reply through gritted teeth, his purple gloved hands clenched, a few strands of hair falling into his face, sticking to his paint.

"You Bats." A familiar voice whispered darkly from behind him, panic thrilled through Bruce's body at the sound, tingling down his spine. The Joker in front of him snapped his mouth shut his eyes narrowing. Slowly turning his head, Batman looked behind him, a breath of disbelief leaving his lips. It was impossible, he blinked slowly, hopefully, but the sight didn't change. Another Joker stood behind him, absent of make-up, an Arkham uniform torn and shredded, he still had pieces of a straitjacket still hugging parts of his lithe frame. Batman pushed away from the pillar, taking a few level steps over, putting the open archway to his back, keeping his escape options open. Turning his head one way he saw the first Joker still crouched down near the ropes, still dressed in his signature outfit, face still painted with the disgusting oil based colors. Turning to the opposite side the second, messy, blood stained Joker still stood, the hatch to the lower levels open behind him. There were two of them. How was that possible? Clayface again? Would the man even consider playing the same ploy twice? Why show it if he had?

"What is this?" He hissed out trying to keep both of them in his sight, but having a hard time considering they were on opposite sides of the tower. He could handle one madman, but two? At the same time? The Joker usually put up a better fight than ninety percent of the criminals he brought down, two of them while he was injured? This definitely wasn't his night.

"Now that! Is a great question, Bats Baby." The second Joker broke the silence, his voice getting breathy as he spoke Batman's pet name, like he had missed the way it felt on his lips. The madman tilted his with a smirking smile, his eyes never leaving the other Clown, he took a few steps towards the left side of the clock tower, putting some distance between himself and the vigilante.

"Let's ask, uh, well. I guess me, right?!" The Arkham Joker laughed darkly, leveling his piercing eyes on the dolled up Joker across the room. The first Joker stood up from his crouched position fixing the second one with a look of disappointed confusion, they looked each other over, taking themselves in. The first Clown's painted lips curled in disgust, while the second one simply raised an eyebrow in amusement. There was another half minute of silence, before the second madman spoke up again, one hand absently moving up to delicately press against his chest.

"So come on you handsome beast! What are! You doing here? You're cramping my style, love!" The blood covered Joker trailed off in a growl, one hand thrown out exaggeratedly, his arm littered with scrapes and bruises, blood spattered and saturated, what was left of his clothing. The suited up Clown raised both of his eyebrows, watching the new comer like he was a bad actor pretending to be on his level. A slightly amused chuckled left the painted lips, and the first Clown tilted his head with an incredulous noise through his teeth, he turned his attention towards Batman.

"So what is this, sweetheart? Some kind of joke? I have to admit your sense of humor is..." The first madman lifted his gloved hand in the air, looking down at the ground, like he was trying to grasp the words he was looking for, then he gave up with a haughty smirk and a shrug of his shoulders.

"But! You!" The man continued, turning back, leveling the other Prince of Crime with a purple gloved finger.

"You could use some work. You're, uh, missing a little something, there, and here, and well, everywhere sweetheart." The dressed up Joker giggled pointing to his painted face first, then at his attire in a grand gesture. The newly arrived Joker cried out in exasperation, throwing his head back with a growl of annoyance, as the first one started talking again.

"Can't believe you left the house dressed like that! Where is your pride, sweetheart?!" The first clown cried exasperated, while the second tilted his head back forward, leveling his dressed up half with a disgusted glare, his scared lips sneering. Then he turned his attention to the ground, shaking his head a little.

"Sweet. Heart." The blood stained man whispered quietly, his eyes on the floor, Bruce barely picking it up his breathy words.

"Sweetheart." He said again this time louder letting the clown across the room hear him, snapping his gaze back to the first Joker, leveling him with a piercing look.

"Sweetheart. Sweetheart! Sweeeeetheart!" He said matching the same exasperation the other clown had shown moments before, gesturing towards the other with a blood soaked hand. His hand clenched in a fist snapping back to his side, his other hand still holding his chest.

"Good lord! You sound! Like a broken record." He growled sneering, showing yellowed teeth.

"Are you. Hearing! This guy, firecracker?" The blood soaked Joker asked licking his lips, fixing Batman with half lidded eyes and one raised eyebrow. Bruce met his eyes, finding the insane intelligence he was used to seeing. The piercing gaze that found your soul, rather than your thoughts.

"Talk about a loonie! Coo-coo." The makeup-less madman twirled his finger over around his temple, catching some of his blood stained green hair in the process, and Bruce got it. The world's greatest detective and he didn't notice it before, couldn't see it, hear it. Turning his attention to the first Joker, he stared, trying to work it out, how it was possible, how he could look so...

"Who are you?" He grunted leveling the dressed up Joker with an accusing stare, the man simply looked taken aback, actually taking one step backwards, one purple gloved hand gripping at his heart as if he was wounded by the Bat's words.

"And we have a winner!" The bloodied Joker shouted, smirking in pride.

"Uh, Excuse me?!" The madman growled stepping back forward again, meeting the vigilante's gaze with his own heated stare.

"I'm pretty sure. I'm me! But if he's me, and, uh, we're us. Then who are you, sweetheart?!" The dressed up male cackled, gesturing towards Batman and the other Joker didn't look impressed, a sneer running across his blood stained face.

"That wasn't an answer."

"It just wasn't the one you wanted." The painted Clown replied. The Arkham Joker growled deeply leveling his other self with a disgustedly annoyed sneer.

"I think I've had enough of this." The blood soaked Joker hissed, his breath hitching, Bruce's eyes widened and he lunged forward, but not fast enough to stop him. The shot went off, the bullet landing straight between the first Joker's dolled up eyes. The body crumpled backwards hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Batman grabbed The Joker's wrist twisting it violently, his grip slipping only slightly on the blood covered skin. The Clown hissed in pain, dropping the gun into the vigilante's outstretched hand. Batman instantly slid out the bullet cartilage, kicking it violently. It slid noisily over the cement ground, falling over the edge, clattering against the ornate structure. Taking apart few more pieces, he tossed the remainder of the gun away from them, the pieces echoing weakly across the ground. The bell above them still sung from the blast of the shot, ringing loudly.

"Why did you do that?" He growled loudly in anger over the ring, grabbing the man by the tattered shirt, he hauled him off the floor, as far as his arm could lift him. The Joker dangled lightly in his grip, a dark chuckle vibrating through his chest and throat. One pale hand gripped weakly at his own black gloved one.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Sweeeeeetheart." He mocked with a giggle, before taking in a sudden breath cutting it off.

"I think you need to calm down." The madman stated, the smile never leaving his face.

"He could have told us what was going on. Unless you know?" The vigilante accused him pulling the madman in closer. The Joker visibly shivered in his hand, licking his chapped lips with a breathy laugh. This close up Bruce could see all of the Joker's imperfections, the dark circles under his eyes.

"I love. When you talk like that." The Clown moaned his other hand making itself at home on Batman's Kevlar covered chest, it slipped a little blood smearing over the bat symbol.

"What is going on?!" The Dark Knight thundered, shaking the Joker like a ragged doll, who simply giggled and gasped in his grip, his hands tightening against the vigilante.

"I. Don't. Know." The madman gritted out his head flopping back and forth violently, Batman stopped letting the smaller male smile lazily at him. He could smell the blood covering the Clown, his rancid breath and unwashed body odor, could see the oil and sweat on the man's face. To be honest he smelled sick, his skin shallow, paler than usual.

"But knowing you, we sure as hell will find out! Right?!" The man laughed, breaking off he took a deep slow rattling breath, hissing in pain, he shifted in the vigilante's grasp letting his hand fall to his side in annoyance, leaving him to simply dangle in his grip, the hand on his chest still remained however. The touch soft enough that Bruce barely noticed it.

"Hey hey, Why don't we play a little less violently tonight? 'Ey Bats?" The hand on his chest moved onto his index and middle finger, walking up the man's chest and over his collar bone.

"I mean, Batsy, babe, you know I love our little rough get-togethers, but we both look like, uh, shit." The man tapped him on the cowl covered nose.

"Tonight." The Joker suggested quietly, his breathing labored. Batman growled, still tossing him to the ground none too gently, the clown landed in a heap, a gasp of pain forcefully leaving his lungs. He groaned in pain slowly letting his body flop fully onto the ground. Turning his head to watch the well toned man stalk over to the dead body, apparently not at all worried about the still breathing Clown sprawled out on the floor. The dead madman lay on the ground near the edge of the building, blood pooling beneath his head, matting the green hair. The blood oozed down the edge of the building, his eyes frozen wide in shock, already glazing over, blood trailed down his painted features. The Bat knelt down, inspecting the dead madman's face. His scarred cheeks, teeth, his gloves coming away smeared with lipstick, taking in his open eyes, examining the shade of green. He wasn't sure... turning back to the other one, who grinned at him from his downed position. He noticed that their eyes were different shades of green. The living one's eyes more vibrant, deadly.

"That. Is not me Tiger." The Joker mumbled tiredly, apparently this night had been just as harrowing on him as it had been on Bruce, if the Clown wasn't already on him again.

"I know." Batman muttered back tearing his eyes from the other male.

"Ooooh? Do you now? Because a few minutes ago, you were taunting him like you had some kind of connection." The madman growled, jealousy coloring his tone.

"I thought he was you." The Bat said off handedly, lost in his speculations on how or what this dead man was, or had been. The Joker grinned genuinely, letting out the most normal flattered laugh Bruce had ever heard from the Clown. He immediately snapped his attention to the smaller male watching the madman close his eyes with a satisfied smile, lacking the normal cruel edge that accompanied it.

"I love your justification." The Joker admitted with a smirked, chuckling darkly when the vigilante realized what he had said. The Bat stood up abruptly, suddenly realizing just how close the pooling blood had gotten to his suit. He didn't need anymore blood near him tonight. There was a shuffling and Batman looked up watching the Joker painfully pull himself into a sitting position. He really was beat up, Bruce could see fresh blood trailing slowly down his arm. The Clown cracked his neck looking just as tired and the Detective felt.

"It can't be me though, look." The Prince of Anarchy said holding up a hand.

"Twenty newborns says he's missing that love mark you gave me the first time we met. Or the one that night at the bank? You remember Arkham?" The madman pulled down his shirt a little showing off a long white scar across his collarbone. Even his neck was smeared with blood and dirt, his adam's apple bobbed under pale skin. How would the Joker know that? That they wouldn't have the same scars. Bruce pulled the dead man's shirt open revealing a pale unblemished collar bone, his eyes snapped back to the living one.

"You know something. Don't you?" Batman narrowed his eyes on man, standing up, watching him for even the slightest tale. The Clown raised his hands up in surrender, a smirk on his face.

"I don't kn – ." The vigilante stalked towards him menacingly and the Joker cut off eyes widening, he raised his hands higher, leaning back a little.

"Alright alright! I love how pushy you are." He purred, smiling up at Batman, a knowing look on his face. He reached a hand out towards the vigilante, who looked at it with disdain.

"Come on. Help a poor crazy out!" The Joker laughed giving his hand a little shake in the air for emphasis. The Bat scowled down at it, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Talk." The Dark Knight growled glaring down at the pouting Clown, who sighed letting his hand fall back to his chest, he licked his lips, meeting the vigilante's blue eyes in resignation.

"Whispers." The Joker coughed sifting his seated position.

"In the Asylum. Someone has the hots for me and you. I don't blame them really. But, now Bruce Wayne. The man sure made a mess of their plans." The Joker muttered amused, and Batman's heart sank. Every time he heard his own name, a chill of worry ran through him, it was easily ten times worse when the Joker said it. The Joker's eyes widened suddenly, easily picking up on Batman's hidden emotions.

"Oh! But don't worry Shnookums, I only have eyes for you." The Joker assured him, finally attempting to get up from his seated position. Batman made no move to stop him, or help him, watching how stiffly the usually graceful male moved. When the madman simply brushed off his wrecked clothing, instead of continuing, the Bat stepped forward gripping the man's hair in his gloved hand, easily a head taller than the other male. The Joker hissed, which turned into a moan. Bruce wanted to let go at the noise, but held fast refusing to back down as Batman. The Clown's hands found their way to his chest curling as much as they could into the Kevlar material, licking his lips.

"And?" The vigilante demanded yanking the man's head back, revealing a long expanse of dirty blood covered skin, the man's adam's apple bobbed again as he swallowed, smiling lechery up at the Bat.

"What? There isn't much to say! I wasn't in there long." His hands slipped slowly, unnoticeably up the Dark Knight's chest.

"I kept hearing whispers of my demise. Nothing new really, but this time, there was a reward. For my head and for yours. Mine?! I could let slid. People love to kill me! You though. No one touches my Bats!"

"Your sick." Batman scowled pushing the madman away from him, but it didn't work, pale hands suddenly locked around the back of his neck pulling him forward with a hidden strength the skinny male shouldn't possess. The Joker let out a little high pitched giggle, pulling the vigilante in closer. They're eyes only inches apart from each other.

"See. That's what you keep saying." The Clown whispered locking their eyes, the Detective moved his grip to the other male's hands, and the madman's hold tightened desperately, pain shooting through Bruce's already sore muscles as his nails dug in.

"When! Will you realize you're just as sick?!" The Joker cried out in frustration, holding the Bat there as long as he could. Batman tore at his hands, peeling them off of his second skin. Nails dug into the fabric, but didn't do any damage to him. The man let out a frustrated sigh, his shoulders visibly sagging.

"Forget it." The male sneered ripping his hands out of Batman's gloved ones.

"I'm tired of this night. Look B-man. All I know is that this isn't – ." Static came over his head set and Batman held up a hand cutting the Joker off, he obviously wasn't going to tell him much.

"Hold on. Oracle?"

"Hey, um, your not going to believe this." Bruce looked back at the Joker who was sitting there quietly beside him and resisted the urge to snort.

"Try me." He grunted staring at the dead body of the Joker look alike, blood eerily glistening in the moonlight.

"The Joker is breaking into a bank."

"They're not real."

"What? How do you know?"

"I don't think they're really him, I have the original with me right now." The Joker perked up at that pointing to himself and nodding, like he was finally getting the credit he deserved. Slicking his hair back he blew a kiss to Batman, who scowled in return.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He replied dryly.

"This one is asking for you too." She stated. Bruce sighed in irritation, his leg was throbbing, his muscles tired, his mind tired, he needed to replenish his blood. He needed to sleep, hell he had needed sleep since finding out he had to even touch that Christmas Bash, let alone plan it.

"Alright, I'll be there." He finally grumbled looking back over at the original Clown, who's eyes were closed in exhaustion, now that he thought Batman wasn't looking. Those green eyes immediately snapped open and sharpened once he realized he was being watched.

"Just give me a few minutes." Bruce added reluctantly, eyeing the Joker wearily, he couldn't just hand him over to the police. They'd lose him in mere hours, the body count would be on his shoulders. Arkham was still a wreck, it would be the same situation if he placed him back there. Sure he could put him back in his cell, but there were still inmates and workers looking to kill him, simply for the reward. The Joker wouldn't be safe there, well if anything he'd get out again simply because they thought they could take him in his cell.

"Bruce, you don't have a few minutes, he has hostages." Batman sighed turning his attention away from the Joker, of course there were.

"I'm on my way." The vigilante finally stated sizing up the madman in front of him. The man raised an eyebrow, licked his lips and started walking towards the exit leisurely. Bruce hung up the line and swiftly closed the distance between them. He didn't have anything on him, but the Batmobile did, all he had to do was get the madman down there. He didn't feel like wrestling with him. There was one way the Joker wouldn't complain, well, couldn't complain. Batman broke out into a full fledged run, charging towards the madman. Startled the Clown turned towards the vigilante, barely catching sight of his determined face rushing towards him. He gasped as the Bat slammed into him, barely having time to realize what was happening, going to happen, before his stomach fell out of his insides, the ground below them disappearing. Batman grabbed the madman around the waist, yanking him off his feet, pulling him in close.

"Hold on tight. Don't block my back." Batman yelled and the Joker listened not even a second later, knowing when the vigilante told you to do something he meant it. The Dark Knight continued his sprint to the edge of the building, pushing off of the floor before it fell away. It took the Joker a second to realize they were no longer on the tower. His hands firmly twisted into the back of the Kevlar suit, his arms around the Bat's neck tightly, his legs squeezing his favorite hero's hips in fear, their bodies flush, his face pressed into the nook of the man's neck. One second, that felt like ten, of free fall later and a black cape flared out behind them. The only sound the Joker could hear over the rushing wind in his ears. Batman glided over the pathetic looking police barricades below, they were losing altitude a lot faster then he was used to forcing him to land hard against a roof a few blocks away. Luckily the Batmobile was in the alleyway on the other side. He landed on his hands and knees, unable to hold back the grunt of pain as his bullet wounded leg took most of the force.

"Don't ever – ." The Joker started, loosening his grip on the vigilante who placed his hand firmly on the male's back, his knuckled scraping the roof beneath them, easily feeling the man's spine beneath his tattered clothing.

"We're not done yet." He grunted out standing up, ignoring the sting in his thigh. The madman's grip tightened again, clinging to the Bat desperately.

"What?!" The Joker cried in confusion his grip tightening farther, almost painfully. Batman stood up with a grunt, walked swiftly towards the other side of the building his arm around the Clown's back, making sure he stayed put. The Joker would be enjoying this if he hadn't of just taken an impromptu dive off the side of a building that was in no way his own idea. At all. Police sirens could be heard just a few blocks away, coming closer. Apparently someone saw them leave, a helicopter could be heard in the distance. The vigilante picked up his pace, running to the other side of the grungy rooftop. He jumped off again releasing his hold on the madman to maneuver his cape. The Joker held on for dear life as they glided the last few stories to the ground, coming to a graceful landing right next to the Batmobile. The Joker instantly released his hold on the Dark Knight, stumbling a few steps backwards.

"How about! You WARN a man before doing that? Huh? I could have died!" The Prince of Crime shouted dramatically, looking shaken for the first time ever. The Joker took a second to catch his baring, one hand on the sleek black surface of his car, but Batman wasn't going to have any of that. He stalked forward grabbing the Clown by his tattered shirt. He shoved him up against the car, pressing a button he opened one of the compartments. He wasn't giving the madman time to plan his escape. The Joker choked, clawing at the gloved grip cutting off some of his air.

"Whoa! Casa-nova! How about a drink first?!" The madman aimed a well placed kick at Batman's already injured ribs, the vigilante faltering for a second in his search. Pulling the Clown back he slammed him hard into the metal, the man's head cracking against the vehicle.

"Oh." The Joker groaned his head lolling forward, a sheepish grin lighting his face. Bruce finally found what he was looking for closing the compartment. He giggled letting his head fall back against the Batmobile again.

"Bats, bats, everywhere, oh how we wish he would share." The madman sang trailing off into quiet giggles, while Batman stepped back, taking one of the smaller male's arms he slapped a cuff onto him. Then onto his own wrist, tugging the Joker away from the car. The madman stumbled forward, his eyes out of focus and for a second Bruce worried he had given the man a serious concussion. He would have to watch him, of course he was going to be watching him, but that wasn't the point.

"What?" The Joker asked confused holding up his metal enclosed wrist to inspect them.

"What is this? You can't be serious! This wasn't how it was supposed to work, besides you know these won't hold me." The madman trailed off with a tired growl.

"I know, but I will. Which is why I'm on the other side of them." Batman replied tugging the pale wrist back down.

"Hold me please! Keep me locked up? Good luck buddy. You're gonna need it." The Joker smirked his eyes tired. He leaned back against the car resting his head where it had slammed mere seconds ago.

"So what's the plan, bundle of fun? Are we gonna go take down the big bad Clown?" The Prince of Anarchy asked cocking his head to the side with a grin.

"Yes. We are." The vigilante replied popping the hood of the Batmobile, watching the Joker almost fall backwards into the cockpit as it opened.

"Again. Warn a man." The Clown growled displeased, righting himself, one hand holding his wounded chest.

"I'll let you know when I find one. Now get in." Batman countered gesturing to the cockpit with a small tilt of his head.

"Ouch. Baby that hurt. Have I been a naughty boy? You wanna punish me now?" The Joker asked sliding closer to the black clad man instead, his free hand running up the solid chest sensually. The Detective snatched that hand away from him, holding it in his gloved grip he leveled the Clown with a dark glare.

"Get in." He demanded with a forceful quiet that the madman just loved to hear. The Joker chuckled amusedly, tingles running through his body at the tone the Bat took.

"Oh, how I've missed you." He exhaled leaning forward, rolling onto the balls of his feet for added height, he pressed his lips against the thin irritated ones. Batman refused to step back, but couldn't release the man's wrist fast enough to stop him. Warm lips met his for a brief moment, the Joker mesmerizing ever sensation, texture and plain, before the Bat pushed him harshly away. The Clown fall back into the side of the Batmobile, barely catching himself. Batman gave him another hard shove, watching him trip over the side falling into the cockpit painfully, his arm wrenching awkwardly when Bruce barely gave him any leeway. The Bat wiped at his lips with the back of his suit, taking the last step forward to lean menacingly over the side of the car, glaring down in disgusted at the Clown.

"Don't. Ever. Do that again." Batman growled and the Joker laughed dryly.

"Why? Because you liked it?" The madman giggled, abruptly yanking hard on their chained wrists pulling the caped crusader farther into the car. The vigilante's gloved hand slammed against the side, keeping himself from falling in, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. The sirens from earlier were closer, they were obviously searching the streets for them.

"No. Because I'll beat you and leave you in an alleyway." Batman grunted yanking back on the chain, pulling the Joker back into a sitting position harshly, the man hissing in pain as his chest was jostled.

"Well that's nothing new." The smaller male shot back pulling back on the cuffs, Bruce expected it this time, his hand barely moving.

"Move. Over." The vigilante growled out, the sirens getting closer. The Joker leaned forward with a twisted smile.

"Make me." The Clown challenged quietly, Batman scowled not even taking time to think about how to do that, he socked the man hard in his smug little face, watching him fall sideways against the dashboard. Bruce climbed into the cockpit, grabbing him by the bony shoulders he twisted him around, shoving his feet to the floor boards. He was in the driver's seat, the Joker squished up against the side door before the man had stopped seeing stars. It was only after the caped crusader pressed the button for the roof to close that he remembered he was supposed to be worried about the Joker having a concussion. One look at the man beside him, pale hand holding his jaw, his entire body covered in blood, most of it more then likely not even his own. Hair windswept, plastered to his sweaty dirt covered forehead. The Joker chuckled working his jaw open and closed a few times, before turning his attention to the man beside him.

"Well. That's one way to do it." Batman scowled and peeled out of the alleyway just missing the police cars that turned into the street they had just left. Laughter filled the car for a few seconds, then an irritated groan of pain, that died out into silence, the man gripping his bleeding chest, but he wouldn't let Batman know that.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

When Joker isn't in the scene. It's hard to write. LOL. If that even makes sense. I suppose he normally dominates the scenes in any given case anywhere, and he's a fun character to write. They are indeed much fast to write. So needless to say this one took awhile. Simply because he wasn't really in it until later. Lol. Its pretty long. So enjoy. The next one might not be as long. Then again it might... I have no idea.

Anyways! Read, review, kudo, comment, favorite idk do shit. Love is makes me edit these things so they're legible.