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.

11. Chapter 11 - Just Shut Up

Hey yo! Keep bugging me and you shall receive :P I finished Arkham Origin. So I haven't had much inspiration. Sad faces I know. Knight should be out soon WOOOO! I know the Joker isn't in it... but still. Lol. I didn't think this chapter would be long. Because I have literally written it four? Five times from scratch. Expanded, then scraped it. I have like three .docs that say Batman11revised in them. Lol. But I'm happy with this outcome and again. A lot longer than I had planned. SO YAY!

Chapter 11

Shattered Identities

Just Shut Up

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Bruce lifted his head to stare at the faded outline Alfred left in his wake. The muscles in his neck straining as they tried to keep up his, tired, fuzzy head. He blinked several times, his brain catching up with the events of the day before. Slowly they flitted through his mind, and his mood immediately fell. He let his head fall back to the pillow, his muscles relaxing when his brain realized he wasn't in any immediate danger. The warmth of the body next to him seeping into his bones. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, immediately regretting the action. Soft strands of hair tickled his nose, filling his senses with the smell of his shampoo, reminding him of the relaxation of a pleasant shower. But there were hints of other smells. Gunpowder, chemicals and leather. Just beneath the surface. Igniting memories of when his parents died. His first chemistry set and the numerous sizzling explosions that proceeded. When he had first fired a gun, the unease and alienation of the action. His mentors up close rearranging his stance, the respect and honor he felt in their presence. Adrenaline from being shot at from point blank. The slamming of the chamber, wiz of the bullet, smell of the powder, the laughter. New cars, woman, The Joker. Bruce opened his eyes, letting the light of the room chase away the feelings and faint memories. Until the only thing dancing across his mind was the image of a grinning madman. The Joker. Because that was his smell. Bruce remembered rather vividly the first time he had met the madman. The Joker, not who he... who he used to be. The black mask plastered on his face. The way he held himself, like he had all the power in the world as he walked around the true owner of that mask. His arms tightened in anger at the memory. Frustration at how useless he had been, how in control the madman was.

A sharp inhale of breath brought Bruce back to the present. The faded green hair shifted across the pillow, the soft curls gliding across Bruce's face. The billionaire's arms loosened as the madman moved a hand to grip at his wrist, and Bruce held back a bitter laugh. It was pretty funny, pretty damn hilarious. He had never slept next to someone. Not like this. Not wrapped in them. His arms around their frame, his face in their hair. His feet tangled in their own. Sure he had slept with people, gotten the release he had needed, but never actually fell asleep with them. Around them. It was too dangerous. All it took was a simple nightmare. A flash back. Was all it took and he could... might, hurt them. Kill them. Without even knowing what he was doing. It was funny... because the Joker was different. Sturdier. The man could, and had, taken anything he could dish out short of snapping his neck. Which would probably still be quite the task. How long had it been since he had slept next to someone? Felt their warmth for longer than a few minutes? It was funny. Ironically hilarious. Bruce closed his eyes and tightened his hold again, because he wanted to... because the madman could take it. He curled closer to him pulling in his warmth basking in the action of actually holding someone tight. His version of tight wasn't something woman could handle. He just wanted to feel solid, have them feel solid. The Joker only gave a weak mumbled protest, tilting his head back with a light squirm, before settling back down. His head lazily turned and he tried to twist in the billionaire's hold. Attempting to get a look at the man squeezing him to death. But Bruce's head stayed on the pillow and out of his sight, his nose brushing the skin just behind the Joker's ear. Bruce released him at the touch, backing up a few inches.

"Hate me for breathing now? Or are you just the snuggling type?" The Joker whispered with an air of content, relaxing into his new position on his back, his face turned towards the billionaire. Bruce scoffed, slowly disentangling his legs from the madman's. Not admitting how much he missed their warmth when he finally managed without the Joker saying anything.

"Morning to you too, tall, dark and silent." The madman mumbled in complaint when the billionaire didn't reply. Looks like someone woke up on the right side of the bed, and the playboy was feeling vindictive. Bruce sent him a smirk that made the Joker's brows crease, the smile falling off his face. He opened his mouth to comment, but didn't get much of a chance. The vigilante sat up swiftly, using the arm the Joker was lying to flip him off the edge of the bed. The madman scrambled for purchase as the world suddenly tipped. Pulling the blankets with him as he landed on the ground in a heap. The playboy chuckled at the indignant sound the maniac huffed out when he hit the floor. Bruce sat all the way up, resisting the urge to stretch his arms behind his back or over his head. Fearful of pulling some stitches. The Joker thrashed around under the blanket until he could throw it off his head. He was revealed in a flurry, his hair full of static, sticking up at odd angles. He scowled up at the playboy who was smiling down at him like it was the best wake up gift ever.

"Thanks." The Joker stated sarcastically, "That's just the way I like to get up in the morning. Why you're single! Is beyond me." Bruce shook his head, ignoring the man's indignant tone. They needed to get going. Who knew what the fake madman was up to. They didn't have time for morning banter. Alfred hadn't really stuck around to explain the situation. Not that the billionaire could blame him. He'd be freaked out finding anyone simply laying next to the Joker and not strangling him to death. Not that it would matter. Lately it seemed everything Bruce did was against the man's wishes, so what was another disappointment on top of the piling list? He'd bet entertaining the madman's obsession was currently at the top of said list.

"God, you are. A piece of work. You know that Bats? Bipolar. Schizophrenic." The Joker mumbled to himself as he tried to disentangle his lower half from the sheets. Bruce frowned, bending over the edge of the bed, he made a show of searching the room.

"What?" The madman asked grumpily, dropping the blankets to follow his gaze. The billionaire just shrugged sitting back up on the bed.

"Nothing, just, trying to find what mirror you're looking at." The playboy stated, trying to keep the smile from his face. The Joker's glare deepened and then a smirk graced his face.

"I don't need a mirror while you're still breathing." The Joker countered, and Bruce's smile fell from his face. The madman childishly kicked at the sheets and attempted to stand up, but his feet were still tangled. He let out a huff of frustration sitting back on the floor.

"Just making sure." The billionaire muttered throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He was glad the madman wasn't feeling particularly aggressive today. He'd rather not talk about their previously entangled state. Bruce recalled the almost crushing hold, and shoved it to the back of his mind. Anyone else and he probably would have almost broken a rib. The billionaire stood up with the intentions of slipping past the madman and getting the door open. He didn't make it far however. The Joker immediately lunged forward, quickly grabbing a hold of Bruce's leg. The vigilante gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath, glaring down at the grinning face of the man below him. The hands held onto the back of his calf with an iron clad grip, refusing to let him tug his leg back. He debated kicking the man in the teeth, but his thoughts quickly derailed to something else, because the Joker stared up at him with heated eyes. Bruce didn't want to name the emotions flashing behind those vibrantly green irises.

"Can I help you?" The words were past Bruce's lips before he could give them a second thought, and he instantly wanted to take them back. Baiting the Joker right now wasn't the best idea. The Joker tossed his head back with an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, if only you would!" The madman giggled tightening his grip. Bruce could feel his hold through the old suits under armor, which was saying something.

"Let go." The vigilante demanded, tugging at his leg a little more forcefully. The madman simply chuckled, shuffling onto his knees and leaning in closer. The Joker dragged his eyes leisurely down the billionaire's body, biting his scarred lip and Bruce cursed himself for letting his guard down. Even if the attack wasn't the physically painful kind. The madman ran the hand on the back of his thigh up higher, and Bruce gritted his teeth against the sensation. Despite the thick layer, it felt like the maniac's touch seared his skin, heated his flesh. The hand stopped on his upper thigh, and the Joker closed his eyes, parting his lips. He turned his head, pressing it up against Bruce's inner thigh.

"I promise I'll be a good boy." The Joker whispered, gazing up at the billionaire with half lidded eyes.

"We can have some fun." The madman insisted, finally turning his head to press his naturally red lips against Bruce's inner thigh. While the Joker's grip was searing, those lips were an electric shock coursing instantly through Bruce's veins. His hand snapped forward yanking the maniac away with a fist full of green curls.

"Get up." The vigilante growled out, tightening his grip on the man's hair. Ignoring the the reaction his body decided to have at the man's proximity. The Joker simply giggled, the hand on his inner thigh ascending father.

"I'm working on it." The madman suggested, biting his lip. Bruce snarled when that hand got a little too close to a place it had no right being. He didn't give the madman another warning, instead he tore the Joker's head farther back, shifted his weight and kneed the man hard in the jaw. Releasing the maniac as he hit, the madman flew backwards, narrowly missing the bed's edge on the other side of the small room. He slammed hard into the floor, the sound echoing through the small room. Bruce returned to a ready stance, uncertain of retaliation, while the Joker rolled to his side with a groan of pain.

"Ow." The madman stated, followed by a quiet giggle and a shake of his head, like getting the air knocked out of him was a great pass time. His hand moved up to touch his jaw tenderly.

"One step forward, two steps back. Gotta love the way we dance, Bats." The Joker chuckled to himself, wiping away some blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth. Bruce made a decision, he couldn't handle another full night of this.

"I don't dance, and I'm tired of you're molestation. You're going into the Batcell while I stop you're psychotic other half. So stand up and shut up." The vigilante demanded stepping forward to tower menacingly over the maniac. The madman blinked up at him like he didn't quite understand what he was saying.

"Batcell... Batcell. Like an actual prison cell?!" The Joker let out a huff of amusement, finally sitting up.

"Bats, Bats, Bats! Arkham's cells can't hold me! What the hell makes you think yours will?! I'm not going into some cell. You pour enough money into that pig sty and here I stand! Yet again!" The Joker laughed throwing his arms out in one grand gesture. He leaned forward then, looking up at Bruce with mock confusion.

"What makes you think. Even for a second. That yours would do any better?" The madman asked with a vicious smile and Bruce gritted his teeth, flexing fists that were itching to slam into the maniac's face. He knew for a fact it wouldn't hold him for the whole night, but maybe, maybe. It would hold him long enough for Bruce to get the job done. That's all he could really ask for. He didn't have time, patience, nor the willpower to play these games all night. The madman's eyes suddenly brightened.

"You know what!" The Joker suddenly exclaimed, slapping his knees. He thrust his hands forward wrists facing Bruce.

"Chain me up Doc! And throw me in the cellar!" The Joker cackled shaking his hands for emphasis. Then the smile faded and he looked up at the vigilante like he was going to break some bad news.

"But." the madman stated, flipping his hands over and splaying his fingers. He leaned forward gazing up at Bruce with sadistic amusement, obviously trying to hide the grin.

"If I get out." The madman whispered seriously, the sadistic grin slowly cracking across his face.

"I'm going to. Kill. Everyone I see. Until you stop me." The Joker said slowly finishing with a dark chuckle.

"Barbara, Tim, Alfred. The man next door. The woman walking her newborn down the street. Such a cute little tike! The children playing in the street, the police men. That try to stop me. This list could get extremely long. Don't you think?" The Joker asked, gazing up at Bruce with a victorious smile. The playboy ground his teeth, shaking his head. There had to be an end. He was putting his foot down. It didn't matter what he said. The vigilante need to take back control of this situation. Of his life. His emotions. Of everything.

"No. I'm done with our little compromises. You're going in the cell and I'm dealing with your copy cats." Bruce stated almost not sure why he was even bothering to tell the madman his decisions. He should really just throw him in the cell and be done with it. Why did he keep listening. Keep talking?

"Oh come on!" The Joker exclaimed rocking back dramatically.

"So I wanted to stay and have some fun! Fucking sue me!" The madman hissed gesturing to his chest as he scrambled to his feet.

"It doesn't warrant putting me in a fucking cage! I've been goooood! Haven't I?!" The Joker whined already back in Bruce's personal bubble. The vigilante stood firm, crossing his arms in defiance, meeting those startling green eyes. They stared each other down for several long seconds. Neither of them blinking. Surprisingly. It was the Joker who broke first. The madman huffed a deep sigh dropping his head to his chest. Slowly he started nodding his head.

"Fine. Fine. But I will get out, Bruce." The Joker whispered stepping even closer to the vigilante. His face now inches away.

"And I will destroy. Everything. You have left." The maniac tilted his head watching the other man's lips thin.

"Make's Hush's job easier. But hey, beggars can't be choosers now can they?" He asked meeting Bruce's eyes again. He slowly took a step back.

"Besides, you have such lovely equipment around. I mean I have a lot of options. I could... hack your computer." The Joker threw his right hand up with a shrug.

"Oh! Don't forget all that equipment you have lying around! Pretty sure. I saw. Some F. U. N! Toys laying around just. Dying! To be used properly! I mean I can actually show you how to use those gadgets of yours. There are many, many, ways to kill someone with a batarang! Did you know that?" The Joker asked suddenly in all seriousness, like he was stating a fact about birds or the weather. Bruce wanted to slam his head against a wall, after he slammed the Joker's, of course. The man was right, he had too much shit lying around. The last thing he wanted was to see how many people his glue gun could kill. The computer would take the madman a solid five hours at the least, but he'd get there eventually, and sending the group to a different Bat Cave would be pointless if the Joker was just out on a mission for genocide. He should just lock him up. Just to show him he wasn't scared, wasn't worried. But he was. He wouldn't let his pride jeopardize some random civilian's life just because he doesn't want to take the madman out for a night on the town.

The Joker took the time he was using to think it over to walk a hand up his chest. Singing the itsy bitsy spider song under his breath as he did it. Apparently the billionaire was taking too long. Bruce took a deep breath, feeling a headache starting to throb behind his eyes. This was already a shitty night and he had just woken up. Why not just make it shittier?

"Fine." Bruce gave in, snatching the hand walking past his collar bone away from his body, and throwing it back at the madman. They really didn't have time for this. For all he knew the fake Joker had fifty hostages and was threatening to kill one every half hour he didn't show up.

"But you step one, toe. Out of line. And I will personally. Put. You. Down." Bruce stated blandly, his tone void of emotion. Showing the Joker that he was dead serious, and it wasn't just the Bat making the promise. Bruce Wayne would crush him. They weren't playing games anymore. Not today. No more revelations, or world tipping. No more mind fucks.

"Isn't that how the story usually goes?" The Joker asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head. Bruce simply glared, hoping the madman understood how serious he was. Growling he reached up. Grabbing the back of the Joker's neck, before the maniac could protest. He tightened his grip ignoring the soft curls brushing his hand. He steered the madman towards the door. Leaned forward to throw it open, and shoved the man out of the room. The Joker squawked indignantly and stumbled onto the walkway that was completely void of safety protocols, like railings.

"Alright! Alright! I'm walking! I'm walking." The Joker hissed raising his hands up in surrender. Bruce slowly trailed behind as the madman pretended to know where they were going, humming a little song as he went. Their foots steps echoed in the humid cavern. The little tune fading off into the darkness above to be answered back with flitted wings and high pitched squeaks. The vigilante couldn't help but imagine for a moment that the green mop of hair was actually blonde, that the skip in the madman's step was from actual happiness and not sadistically cruel humor. And he could almost see it. Almost see the man the Joker... Jack, would have become. But no, Bruce shook his head, he was wrong.

The man, boy, Bruce had built Jack up to be was wrong. He had wanted to ignore the signs. Pretend... but now that he knew who Jack was, what he had become. He could see it. Couldn't pretend any more. Jack had always been different, even from the start, he understood traumatic events, but the man's life wasn't so bad, he had never ended up in the hospital. The abuse his parents supposedly wrought on him wasn't horrific. There had always been pieces. Pieces of the Joker. Even before that night. The night that changed Jack's life forever. Falling into a vat of chemicals was traumatic, yeah, but that doesn't make crazy, that doesn't give birth to intelligent insanity.

When someone breaks they're broken, pieces of them fall away lost forever in the sea of madness. They lose themselves to jumbled words and miss wired brain lines. Nothing connects correctly. Sure, things can push humans over the edge, but it wasn't the same. The world had two kinds of people. It was the same edge, the same cliff, but some don't fall off it, crashing into the jagged rocks below. Mind shattering as they hit. No, some of them, they jumped. Diving head first into the murky waters of insanity instead. Embracing it. Surviving it. Some would argue they were sociopaths, but was Bruce a sociopath? Had he jumped or fallen? Had he ever even seen the edge, he was pretty sure most psychologists would see him as crazy in many venues, but what kind of crazy? Certainly he had never shown the signs that Jack had before all of this. Was crazy born? Or bred? The Joker. Jack. Had always had less fear than everyone else. Bruce had been afraid as a child, of heights, fire, darkness. But not Jack. There were school reports of Jack's fearlessness, jumping onto the school's roof, riding his bike down the playground slide, crashing into other kids. A brazen recklessness that left its mark.

"Head right." Bruce stated, correcting the madman's course. The Joker turned his head back at him with a sheepish grin and the billionaire was sure that smile would have melted hearts without the scars. Jack had always been good with people, they flocked to him like moths to a flame. What Bruce didn't want to see however, was how he had manipulated them. Knew just how to push their buttons, just enough prodding to cause some strife between each other. When Bruce had said he had combed through all the information he hadn't lied... he had retrieved internet conversations, texts, phone calls, everything he could get his hands on. Whenever something major had happened in his friends lives... there was always whispers. Of him. He would play both sides, silently instigating more hatred. Bruce had pretended it was just Jack trying to keep his friends, it was so subtle, such naive harmless comments that would tip them over the edge. Jack... the Joker. Had always been a master manipulator, the rise in high school suicides while he attended wasn't a coincidence. Had Bruce been wrong? Had Jack simply been a high functioning sociopath before all of this? What if the man in front of him... was Jack Napier. What if... What if that night... wasn't a turning point, but more of a... Shove. In the same direction. What if Jack Napier was always the Joker. Always going to be a homicidal criminal overlord? To be honest. If Batman hadn't of shown up... Jack would have been The Red Hood, there was no question about it. He could have gone on, built the empire regardless of the scars. God, that empire would be unbeatable. A beautiful charismatic, fearless, homicidal man running the scum of Gotham. The criminals would flock to him like flies to fruit. If the man before him was Jack Napier... did that mean. Was the Joker... his obsession? Bruce had spent an equal amount of time researching the Joker, painstaking hours of sleepless nights, as he had Jack. So what if Jack had really never died, simply grew into his own? Where did that leave Bruce?

"What's up beefcake?!" The Joker suddenly asked, but maybe it wasn't so sudden. Bruce snapped out of his thoughts only to realize they had stopped walking and he didn't know for how long. The madman was facing him, with a little amused smile on his face. Still in his personal bubble, of course. All Bruce really had to do was lean forward a little and they would be touching.

"Nothing." Bruce muttered, staring into those startling green eyes. That was something Batman had changed. The green used to be blue. Such a beautiful blue, but now they were inhuman. Bruce tried to imagine those eyes on anyone else, and realized that despite the sadistic gleam they were just as beautiful, and the long dark lashes didn't help any. The Joker gave him a genuine smile that lit up his eyes.

"And they call me bi-polar." The madman whispered the smile turning into a smirk. Bruce roughly brushed past him, ignoring all the warring emotions inside. He felt guilty, confused, elated, fearful, angry, worried. Relieved. It was his fault Jack was insane, wasn't it? Jack was alive, he hadn't let a kid die. But, what had he done in it's stead? It wasn't his fault though, he had no control over the situation. But, how would he handle all of this? He hadn't killed Jack. Jack was alive, breathing, laughing... if you could call it that. But, what had he done to Jack's life, to both their lives?

"Master Bruce." Alfred's voice broke through his storm of emotions and he jerked his head up at Alfred, who gazed down at them from the central platform in the middle of the cave.

"Hey pops! See your still kicking!" The Joker giggled, waving up at the tight lipped elder sending him an icy stare.

"Master Bruce, I do believe you should eat something before you go gallivanting off to save the day, I don't think this one is as pressing as others and I really think yo – ." Alfred started ranting hoping that Bruce would hear at least three words out of his long winded sentence.

"Yeah," The vigilante nodded his head in agreement taking the stairs up to the platform two at a time, the Joker lazily following behind him, "We should."

"We? Sir?" Alfred asked the disbelief and disapproval creeping into his voice, easily morphing the shock at his acceptance to eat. The Dark Knight ignored him when he reached the platform, walking past the elderly man. He didn't want to deal with Alfred's disapproval of his lifestyle right now. Barbara sat in the computer chair, her home away from home. Tapping away at the keyboard. Robin reclined against the desk on her other side, messing with a gadget of his own design. Bruce didn't appreciate him dabbling in the electronics. If he almost blew himself up half as many times as Bruce had, it would still be way too many times.

"Barbara, what have you got for me?" The billionaire asked walking up to the computer and leaning over her shoulder, one hand on the desk the other on the back of her chair, taking in the various screens. Barbara turned to stare at his guest wearily, fearfully, before turning back to the computer and clicking a few keys. Robin's eyes snapped up from his gadget to watch them intently.

"I pinpointed the trackers." She said slowly, afraid any sudden movements would set the Joker off. Bruce shifted his weight, blocking the madman's shit eating grin from her view.

"Good. Show me what you've got." Bruce muttered pressing a few keys as well, only to have the girl slap his hand away. She clicked several keys and a grid map of Gotham appeared on the largest screen. A few red dots pinged around the city. Bruce tried to ignore how Tim's eyes burnt a hole in the side of his head. Alfred's footsteps echoed across the cave, the tinkling of cups on a tray upsetting a few critters on the ceiling. He set the tray on the desk beside Bruce, ignoring the Joker. Who had crossed his arms and leant against the desk beside the vigilante, back in Barbara's view. His eyes tracked Alfred's movement instead of taunting the girl, like a jaguar tracking its prey.

"Boo." The Joker whispered with a smirk and Alfred leveled him with an angry stare, him lips thin, posture rigid. Bruce turned his head slowly, his hand flexing on the back on Barbara's chair.

"Play nice." Bruce insisted, taking in the man's relaxed posture despite the deadly stare the two were exchanging.

"I always play nice. I just think my idea of nice isn't what it's supposed to be." The madman stated, sizing up the old man in front of him. Then he smirked knowingly.

"But your nice," The maniac admitted, running an appreciative eye over Bruce's body. Alfred actually scowled.

"So maybe it is." The Joker finished, smiling innocently at the butler.

"I don't normally play nice." Bruce insisted, Alfred's eyes snapped to him, a little more white showing than usual. The madman held back a sadistic cackle, not wanting to draw Bruce's attention to Alfred's disapproval of their banter. The Joker instead plucked up half a sandwich from the tray, watching as Alfred pivoted stiffly and walked away. The billionaire looked over at the movement and almost raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised the maniac actually ate food and not just human hearts.

"I hadn't noticed." The madman stated, running a tongue over his split lip and Bruce fought the urge to shake his head in irritation, turning back to the screen instead.

"Are those the Jokers?" Bruce asked instead, pointing to a dot. Robin was still staring. The madman cleared his throat, tilting his head a little.

"Besides, I wasn't talking about how you play." The Joker countered haughtily, finally taking a bite out of the sandwich. Robin's eyes finally moved from Bruce, narrowing in on the madman.

"Ignore him. I do." Bruce stated, taking over the mouse and scrolling down to the Gotham Precinct, "those aren't Jokers."

"Which is half our relationship problem. I have to do so much to get your attention." The Joker complained with a huff, but the vigilante ignored him.

"Are those the other... Bruce Wayne's?" Bruce asked snatching up a sandwich for himself. He knew he was playing with fire right now, but he didn't want Robin and Oracle to see him give in to the madman every time.

"I would think so. They haven't arrested any Jokers. So we have no idea which dots on this map are the Joker's and which one's are the... you's." Barbara muttered apologetically. Robin's gadget sizzled and sparked. The kid cursed, putting a thumb in his mouth walking away from the group. Bruce sent him a disapproving gaze, but stopped immediately. Realizing how hypocritical that was. The last thing he wanted to become was Alfred.

"Is that the one causing problems right now?" Bruce asked scrolling back up to the other districts, there was one located in the ruins of Arkham City.

"Yeah. He's taken over the old Arkham prison, stopped renovations, and hijacked several boats full of the cities cargo. Wayne enterprise included. The main worry is the medical supply shipment he's taken hostage. The hospitals will be fine for a few more days, but after that we're going to be in trouble."

"Any civilian hostages?" Bruce asked, shifting back into a standing position.

"Not that I know of. All of the construction workers are accounted for." Barbara informed him and the billionaire nodded his head in acceptance.

"So it'll be pretty straight forward. Get in, secure the supplies and take him down."

"From what we know. Yeah basically. It should technically be pretty easy. But you know it's probably a trap right? It's always a trap." Barbara finally asked, her eyes shifting to the madman, who wasn't there. She leaned forward panic in her eyes.

"Of course." Bruce went to pick up another sandwich, noticing her concern, he realized he didn't feel the familiar presence by his side. He spun around quickly, his eyes zeroing in on a mop of green hair.

"Hey! Get away from that." The Dark Knight barked out and the Joker jumped away from the storage containers he was a little too close for comfort to. The madman held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Alright alright, chill. I was just taking a peak. No need to bite my head off! I was just wondering what the great Bats kept around his lair. You always have such fun toys." The Joker giggled, waltzing back over to the computer desk.

"Nothing you need to get into. Eat so we can leave." Bruce demanded, running his eyes over the madman, checking for anything he might have stolen, but there were no strange bulges in his clothing.

"I'm sorry sir, but could we speak for a moment." Alfred asked him determinedly and Bruce turn to look at him. They gazed at each other for a few seconds, the billionaire trying to discern what it could be about and if he even wanted to hear it. Finally he acquiesced with a nod of his head. Robin all but sprinted back up the stairs and onto the platform, following them out of the Joker's ear shot.

"Hey doll. Hows life?" The Joker asked Barbara with a predatory smirk, who immediately shrunk away from him as he hopped up, taking a seat on the desk's edge, leaning into her personal bubble. Bruce walked past Alfred, positioning himself to keep the Joker in his line of sight. His eyes narrowing. He had only been gone for two seconds, besides he'd rather watch the Joker than Alfred's irritated face.

"Sir, I don't believe taking that maniac with you is the best idea. Put him in police custody, I'm sure Arkham has had enough time to get back on their feet. It would be in everyone's interest if he were behind bars, or bullet proof glass. We even have a cell here for him." Alfred insisted, and Robin nodded his head in agreement looking between the two with crossed arms. Bruce resisted the urge to sigh in frustration.

"No. It won't hold him." The vigilante stated, and instantly Tim's face morphed into irritated disbelief.

"The police wouldn't be able to either. I won't have those deaths on my hands and Arkham is run by someone just as insane right now. Putting him there would do nothing. She wants him out of Arkham so all the attention is on him and not on her experiments." The vigilante stated, taking in their skeptical expressions.

"Our cell is made to hold him. We have taken all the precautions." Alfred insisted, gesturing in the general direction of the cell.

"Not this one. The other caves maybe, but not this one." Bruce replied, knowing there was going to be a fight from the looks on their faces. The Joker was simply staring unblinkingly at Barbara which was easily making the girl nervous.

"I have updated all of them." Alfred informed him, and Bruce sighed with a slight shake of his head, Robin's brows furrowed further.

"I haven't checked this one. I'm not taking that risk." The billionaire insisted, giving each of them a stern gaze.

"That risk?" Robin asked dubiously, letting his arms drop to his side in disbelief.

"You're simply making excuses now." Alfred insisted his posture tensing, his hands forming fists.

"If he got out he would kill Barbara." Bruce countered, gesturing back at the two, which was obviously going to be a problem. The Joker was slowly getting closer to her while he munched on a sandwich, and bless the woman's heart, she was trying to ignore him. But neither of them bothered looking.

"We can have her transferred." Alfred suggested, standing firm.

"You don't think he'd hack the computer?" Bruce asked, because the computer was on the same network as the other Batcaves.

"That computer is encrypted and protected it would take him ages." Alfred insisted, his voice raising.

"I'm not going to take that chance." The billionaire huffed out exasperatedly, why couldn't they see that was a bad idea? That it wouldn't hold him.

"Sire, You – ." Alfred was cut off by a squeal of fear and Bruce's eyes snapped up.

"Hey! I will bash your face in." The Dark Knight growled, leveling his irritated gaze at the maniac who was a little too close to the woman. The madman stuck his tongue out backing away from the girl.

"No Alfred. I'd rather be in danger then put you three in it's path." Bruce stated, his eyes not leaving the madman.

"And what about you? What about your safety? Let us help!" Tim demanded taking a step into their little circle.

"My safety? Mine? What about yours?" Bruce asked, definitely willing to dredge up how it was the teens fault that the madman was even out of the hospital room.

"I'll be fine. I can handle him. We can watch him in the cell. He won't go anywhere." Robin insisted stepping a little closer to his mentor.

"Because that went so well last time." Bruce almost snarled at him.

"He's fucking with your head Bruce! I can see it. Alfred can see it! Just let us help!" Tim exclaimed, Barbara squealed in fear again and the vigilante really did snarl.

"You are helping. By staying away from him. So he can't fuck with your head too!" Bruce brushed past him to shove the madman out of Barbara's personal bubble, which appeared to be rather large when it came to the madman. The Joker just giggled as he lost balance and fell off the desk, landing on his feet. The vigilante turned his attention back to the screen and zoomed out. The madman's laughter died down almost instantly, replaced by an angry scowl.

"What?" Bruce asked turning to look at the man's twisted face. The maniac simply shook his head irritably, picking up another sandwich. How many was that? Two full sandwiches? Maybe the man did eat.

"Whatever." The vigilante muttered, turning back to the screen, resuming previous posture leaning on the desk.

"Let's assume all of these are my clones or copies." Bruce stated, pointing to the police station.

"Bio-genetically altered doppelgangers." Barbara corrected him hopefully, Bruce turned his eyes to stare at her blankly before turning back to the screen.

"Copies. And the ones at large are the Joker's. It's safer to assume that. Wait isn't that a convent?" Bruce asked pointing to a dot on the map.

"Yeah. What if that's a Bruce?"

"Taking refuge?"

"It's not." The Joker stated around a mouth full of food, he picked up another half.

"Oh?" Bruce asked leveling the man with a piercing stare.

"It's my main headquarters. Guess I'll have to find a new one after this. That bastard BAD is there." The Joker muttered angrily, hopping back up onto the desk.

"Bad? Is that a name?" The billionaire asked in confusion.

"Isn't that what you just called them? Bio-genetically altered doppelgangers? B.A.D.s right?" The Joker giggled sending a wink towards the girl. He got a tight smile from Barbara and Bruce closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could feel a headache coming on, they weren't superheros they didn't need code names for things. This wasn't Starling City.

"So that's where Harley is?" Bruce inquired looking back at the screen. No wonder he could never find them. Who would bother looking there.

"Yep. We should, uh, pay her a visit. Hm? Yeah? Just a little visit?" The Joker asked sliding up next to the vigilante like he could somehow persuade him with his proximity. Their faces only inches from each other.

"No." The Dark Knight scowled, shoving the man away from him. The maniac pouted back, sending an irritated glare at the male, but he backed off. Which made Bruce worry a little, he had enough to worry about already. He turned back to the screen.

"So we know where they're at. It looks like they're only three left at large. I wonder if Hush is starting to sweat." Bruce muttered in satisfaction, straightening up and crossing his arms, soon it would be two. Then one. Then none. Then he could turn his attention to bringing in the good doctor and friends. The billionaire let his arms fall back, kind of regretting crossing his arms when it pulled at the stitches in his back, but he ignored the pain. It wasn't hard, he barely noticed any of his bruises or sprains anymore. Bruce reached over to pick up another sandwich half and turned to look. There was only one full sandwich left. He looked up, almost in shock, at the madman staring up into the endless darkness above them.

"Did you eat all of those?" Bruce asked, and the madman dragged his attention back to the vigilante with raised eyebrows. His green eyes flickered to the plate then back to the male, followed by an innocent shrug of his shoulder and a smug grin.

"I thought you didn't eat. You're skinny enough." The billionaire muttered snatching up one of the pieces. The Joker just chuckled in amusement turning back to survey the area. Maybe Bruce had been wrong. Maybe the madman wasn't emaciated by his own will. What if Arkham wasn't feeding him enough? Maybe to keep him compliant. Hell, he was probably one of those people that got so engrossed in a plan that he didn't realize he needed sustenance. Like Bruce, he did it all the time. So that would be almost twenty four seven for the madman. The Joker was either plotting something or in Arkham. No wonder he was almost dead... okay maybe not. His ribs didn't show that much and he definitely had enough muscle. If Bruce remembered correctly. Which why would he? The playboy subconsciously shook the thought from his head. Speak of master plans though.

"Is that bomb secured?" The vigilante asked turning his attention back to the girl. The last thing they needed was for that purple green concoction to be laying around where people could get their hands on it.

"Yeah of course. So what's the plan?" Barbara asked, almost turning towards Bruce but she stopped herself, preferring to avoid looking at the crazy homicidal maniac beside the vigilante she admired.

"Just like every other day. Take out the Joker." Bruce stated his voice dropping darkly, and the Joker's eyes snapped to him, taking in his facial features. The subtle changes in his demeanor. The small furrow of his brow and tight set of his lips. Batman and Bruce were different, yet the same. The Dark Knight's eyes returned the favor, all changes seeping away the second he saw the sharpness in the madman's green orbs. The Joker gave him a small smirk before moving his attention away. Mostly to stare down Alfred, who was sending the Joker an icy glare.

"Time to get going, Tim I need you to monitor the rest of the dots, see if you can do some reconnaissance. Do not. Engage." The Dark Knight demanded turning a burning gaze to the teen, who met his eye, they stared for a few seconds before he reluctantly nodded his head in agreement.

"Barbara, find something on the doctor, we need her arrested." The vigilante stated and the girl nodded her head as as well. Bruce turned to the Joker, not even bothering to ask, he got a firm grip on the madman's arm. The maniac instantly tensed, then relaxed under his touch and the billionaire grabbed the last sandwich pulling him away from the normal civilized human beings. Bruce met Alfred's disapproving stare as he walked past and the Joker saluted the man with a sadistic giggle while he was dragged by. The madman suddenly yanked against his grip grinding them to a halt in front of the older man.

"Aw, don't look so glum gramps! I'll bring him back in one piece..." The Joker smiled, turning towards the vigilante he placed a palm parallel to his midriff, and one above his head.

"You prefer the upper half of him right? I'll be sure to send it to you with not a scratch. Scouts honor." The Joker flattened his palm against Bruce's abs the other coming to grip his shoulder, pressing his body up against the playboy's. The billionaire was sure, if Alfred still killed people, the Joker would be on the top of his list. Bruce sent the old man an apologetic look, which was simply returned with disapproving disbelief. The vigilante shoved the madman past him almost knocking him into the stairs and the madman giggled crawling up a few of them. Bruce ascended after him not bothering to look back at the man as Robin walked up to stand beside his old friend. Staring just as icily up at him.

"He's poison." Robin muttered watching the sick flirtatious grins and giggles the madman sent back to Bruce. Watching the vigilante ignore them and nudge the man forward, instead of simply punching him in the face.

"Yes, well Bruce has always chosen his own poison. Unfortunately for all of us, it was never sex, alcohol or weed." Alfred grumbled with tight lips as he watched the two ascend to the landing platform.

"We need to do something, I can't watch this, we can't just sit around and let him drown." Tim whispered tearing his eyes away from the vigilante. Alfred shook his head doing the same.

"You can't save Bruce from himself. I've been trying since he was twelve." Alfred replied, turning towards the kid, he placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. The old man opened his mouth, then closed it. There was a small pause between them as Tim's worried eyes met his sympathetic ones.

"I'm sorry." Alfred whispered slowly, turning his gaze away from the teen as he walked away, his hand slipping off wearily and Robin got the impression that the old man wasn't talking about Bruce's situation, but his own. How Bruce had changed his life. What Tim had become. Was fighting crime really that bad? Did he warrant pity? Robin turned to watch Alfred walk away. What if it wasn't the crime fighting... wasn't the right in his life, but the wrong. How he chased after criminals instead of girls, or studied combat moves instead of mathematics or art or hell video games. When was the last time he had played a video game? Basketball? Watched a movie? Was he missing out? He didn't feel like he was, but then again... how would he know...

"Hey Tim! When was the last time you checked your email? Get over here!" Barbara called to him snapping him out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath letting all of it go. He didn't need this right now. The Joker had already given him the run around, he didn't need Alfred making it worse.

"I don't know. Why? What's up?" Robin called back to her as he pivoted around rushing over to her side. Hoping for anything to distract him from the two men a simple sprint away.

Bruce let the madman waltz over to the Batwing while he activated the Batsuit container that rose quietly from the platform. The maniac let out a content sigh as he ran a pale hand across its scraped up surface. The vigilante ignored him, moving the armor display pieces away from the under armor of the suit. He took a deep breath grabbing the hem of his shirt. The faster he was into his suit the sooner they could get out of here and away from all the disapproving stares. He gently tugged it up and over his head, gritting his teeth in pain as the movement pulled the skin on his back and shifted his bruised ribs. He let out a little hiss as he felt some of the bandages grow a little warm, the sting a great reminder of who not to save. Apparently the Joker had wandered over to watch the show because there was an echoed hiss of sympathy.

"Yeaaaah. Sorry, about that." The Joker whispered with a little smile despite the meaning of the word sorry, simply bathing in the sight of a shirtless Dark Knight.

"I doubt that." Bruce muttered bitterly, bending down to tear off the lower half of the old suit he still had on. The Joker scowled at his bland response, his eyes narrowing.

"I never asked you to be the hero." The madman replied darkly the smile slipping off his face at the billionaire's sour mood. Bruce ignored him, opting to instead step into the new suit, he did wear underwear, they were just specially designed for the suit. He wasn't willing to change into the new ones in front of the madman so he kept them on. The Joker took a deep breath letting it out in a huffed growl, turning away from him. The maniac stalked around the platform a few times like a caged animal, his eyes never really leaving Bruce, always fixed on their prey or finding a way out. The vigilante continued to ignore him, putting on his suit at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every movement reminding him of every bruise he had achieved in the past twenty-four hours, or was it forty eight now?

Bruce got the black under armor on one arm, then stopped. Stuck on trying to get his hand in the other sleeve without pulling anymore stitches. Once the under suit was on it would be fine. The fabric already acted like a band aid it was ridiculously form fitting, he just had to get it on. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath ready to just take the pain and shift his arm back when something cold touched his bicep. His eyes snapped open in time to see an absurdly pale hand run down his arm. There was a tug at the suit and that hand held open the sleeve for him to slid his hand through. The Joker stepped in closer, his body coming into Bruce's view as he shimmied the fabric up his arm, letting it snap against his neck. The madman shifted behind him and leaned forward, folding her arms over the vigilante's shoulder's and resting his head on his hand.

"There ya go princess." The Joker whispered into his ear with a smirk. Leaning back he uncurled his arms, letting his hands run back down over the man's fabric covered biceps. His breath ghosting against the base of Bruce's skull, goosebumps broke out across the billionaire's skin at the warm air's caress. The Dark Knight wanted to snap at him that he didn't need his help, to back it up. Unfortunately it was appreciated, the help that is. So he refrained. The Joker's breathing quickened. If he had done it his way and pulled more stitches it would have meant less mobility in the field, which he really wasn't looking forward to. The Joker was hard enough to handle on a regular night, one where he was this injured was definitely going to be a challenge. Even with him 'on their side.' The warm breath left his skin and he tilted his head, watching the madman slip away from him to waltz around the platform again. Bruce took a deep breath turning back to the task at hand. He bent down with gritted teeth, picking up a piece of his armor and snapping it into place.

The sound echoed around the quiet of the cave. The vigilante had to look back again to ensure the Joker hadn't slipped away, but he was still there. His footsteps silent against the metal platform, on the other side of the Batwing, only his feet visible and Bruce wondered when he had learned that. To walk silently. Was it out of necessity? Did he have to tread lightly around his parents? Or was it later in life? The madman appeared again, slowly making his way back around. His hands behind his back as he took in the details of the cavern. His green eyes flashing around the empty spaces. Did he pick it up when he joined the criminal underground? It hadn't sounded like he had much trouble with the lot, so what reason would he need, unless it was to scare the shit out of those thugs. God knows Bruce loved to do that. The Joker paused as his eyes met Bruce's, and he raised an eyebrow, narrowing his gaze questioningly. He slowly waltzed back over, coming to a stop in front of the vigilante. Blue eyes tracking his every movement yet not noticing any of them. The vigilante stared into pools of poison, as the Joker tilted his head. How startling would those green eyes be if they suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Obviously they wo... but they hadn't been green. They had been blue before.

"Admiring the view? I thought we were. Hmm. what was it, 'pressed for time'." The Joker grinned slyly, snapping Bruce out of his thoughts. The billionaire held back his surprise at the man's sudden appearance in front of him. Even though it shouldn't have been sudden. How long had he been there? The Joker raised his hand to gently cup the side of Bruce's face, hoping he could get away with it while the man caught up with reality. The madman's cold fingers sent chills across his skin. The vigilante's own hand moved up to grab the maniac's wrist, pulling that hand away from his face as he tore his eyes away, turning back to his armor. He wanted to shake his head, but refrained, it had been ages since he was this distracted. He just needed more sleep and less injuries. He was going to get neither however so he might as well buckle down and get this job done. Get the Joker away from him. He continued snapping on pieces of his armor, ignoring the now burning gaze of the other male.

"So." The Joker finally broke the silence.

"Where's my suit? You can't expect me to go running around in this!" The madman gestured to his ensemble. The large white button up shirt and dark green sweat pants.

"You know. On second thought. I've never killed someone with my dashing good looks!" The madman giggled running a hand through his fading curls as he waltzing around to lean casually against the suit chamber. "So maybe I'll just... stick with this." Batman ignored him, deciding to sit down in order to put his shoes on instead of straining his back any farther. The madman pushed off the chamber, walking around the Dark Knight to lean over the back of him and Bruce scowled.

"Hellooooo! Is this thing on?!" The maniac asked, knocking on top of Bruce's head. The billionaire shook him away.

"I don't think we should go out tonight, love!" The Joker exclaimed, resting his hands on the vigilante's broad shoulders.

"You're just not yourself right now. I think a night in..." The madman insisted rubbing circles in the man's tense muscles.

"With some extracurricular activities." The Joker leaned forward farther, putting most of his weight on Bruce's shoulders. His head popped into view, his green locks dangling towards the floor, accompanied by an upside down grin.

"And some bed rest, of course..." The Joker took a deep breath through his nose, "would do you good." He exhaled.

"What do you say, tiger? How about a night in. O'la la." The maniac straightened back up again his hands sliding to the base of Bruce's skull, his thumbs rubbing circles in the short hair on his neck.

"If you don't stop touching me. And I have to get up. Before I put my other shoe on. I'm going to punch you." Bruce stated darkly, ignoring how the touches heated his skin.

"Oh come on! Like I haven't heard, that! One before!" The Joker laughed running his fingers along his masculine jaw line and Bruce subconsciously tilted his head up at the touch.

"In the groin." Batman added on with a growl, his grip tightening on the leg armor as his heart sped up without his consent as those fingers glided across his skin.

"Ooooh, That one's new! Ya got me there sunshine." The Joker laughed, ripping his hands away from his skin and backing away once again, but not before carding hand through the top of Bruce's hair. Batman turned to glare at the man's retreating back while he pulled his armor tighter. This week was insane, Bruce didn't think he could handle much more insanity. The fact that he even allowed the madman that close to him was insanity in itself. He could have easily broke his neck, yet it hadn't even crossed his mind until just now. He needed to pull his shit together. Finally he stood up, fully clad in Batman gear except for one item. His cowl. He plucked it off the manikin, and gazed down at it's empty eye holes. This was a symbol of justice. He ignored the Joker, who stopped in his tracks near the Batwing, leaning over the metal wing to stare intently at the vigilante. Bruce slipped on the cowl, tugging it into it's snug home over his skin and the madman started chuckling. By the time Batman turned around the Joker was full on laughing, the hitches in his breathing from the bullet wound barely noticeable anymore. Bruce took him in. Practically laying on the wing, his button up shirt not so buttoned up, and the baggy sweat pants barely hanging on.

"Wait here." Bruce muttered, wanting nothing more than to get away from the maniac's diabolical laughter. Even if it was only for a moment. Without waiting for an answer, which sounded like a sputtered jumble of words he dashed to the edge of the platform and dove into the darkness. Breathing in a slow heavy breath of humid air in relief. The Joker slipped under the metal wing, and rushed to the edge peering into the darkness below in silent awe at the man's stealth abilities. After about thirty seconds of staring into the darkness, the Joker scowled shifting his weight to one foot. He crossed his arms, glowering into the abyss in annoyance. After another thirty seconds he was pacing the edge of the platform like a ticking time bomb. His eyes darting around skittishly, looking for any sign of the giant bat.

"Miss me?" The guttural voice asked suddenly from behind him and the Joker startled, losing his balance. He saw the darkness come closer, his world tilt, but only for a moment. A strong hand snapped out to grab his arm in a bruising grip, but it didn't pull him back to safety. Simply left him towering over a vortex of darkness. The Joker turned his head around to stare into sadistically amused steel blue eyes. Taking in the slight tilt of his chiseled lips.

"Just admiring the view!" The Joker laughed throwing his hand out, making it difficult for Batman to keep him on the ledge. Bruce gave in, not wanting to give the man a chance to throw them both off the edge and pulling him back to safety. He shoved him towards the center of the platform, throwing a pile of clothes at the man's stumbling back. A few hard items hit him square in the back and he almost fell over completely.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Let a man get his footing before you go throwing things at him!" The Joker whined twisting around just before he hit the aircraft's wing. He let his back bump harmlessly into it, sending Batman a healthy glare as he bent down to pick up the closest article of clothing.

"What's this?" The madman grumbled leveling the vigilante with a bland stare.

"You're suit. Wouldn't want you killing anyone with your... good looks." Batman mocked, stalking around the maniac. Who shook the article of clothing out, glaring at it with pursed lips. It was a black and gray under armor, with patches of reinforced padding, one that Robin used to wear before his new suit.

"So let me get this straight. You want me to ditch the baggy pants... for a skin tight jumpsuit?" The Joker asked raising a skeptical eyebrow at the vigilante who came to a stop next to him.

"I could get you a green leotard, but I figured that was a little too much for the world. How about you put the suit on. And keep the pants." The Dark Knight suggested with a tilt of his head.

"Wait, wait, wait... why the fuck. Do you have a green leotard?" The Joker asked slowly, then threw up a hand, "No, no, no! Don't tell me. Let me guess..." Bruce raised an eyebrow, not that the madman could see it. The madman seemed like he was mulling it around for a second.

"You have... a little boy fetish." The Joker suggested, curling every finger except the index on his raised hands.

"Would make sense!" The madman pressed on dropping his hands.

"What with all the little boys running around! How's the new robin treating you?!" The Joker placed the back of his hand near the side of his mouth and turned his head, looking around the empty platform in exaggeration. "Not quite as acrobatic as the first I hear." The maniac mock whispered ending with a muted giggle and nefarious smirk. Bruce's muscles tightened at the accusation, anger coursing through his veins, but he wasn't going to give in to the rage. He couldn't. It was what the madman always wanted and that at least was something he could deny the man.

"That would make your day wouldn't it?" The Dark Knight barked, taking an intimidating step forward.

"Me fucking little boys." His scowl turned to a smirk and he shrugged his armor clad shoulders.

"It's okay. That would mean you're not my type." Batman gave the maniac a pitying look before the smirk broke across his features. The Joker stared at him for a few seconds then he looked down at his shirt, almost like he was trying to hold back his laughter, raising his hands to slowly unbutton the first few buttons. A few dark chuckles breaking past. He got about halfway, which to be honest was only three buttons, when one pale hand slid along equally pale skin. Slipping the dress shirt off one shoulder as he tilted his head back up but didn't look at the vigilante, his teeth digging into his bottom lip for a moment.

"I was though." The madman whispered, his eyes flashing up to meet Bruce's, "Wasn't I?" Batman resisted the urge to back away from the man at the accusation. Afraid that action would make him look guilty. Which he was not. Of course. The madman pursed his lips almost in a pout, his brows creasing in pity.

"Dear. Precious. Little Jack. Oh, how you wanted to. Save. Him." The Joker licked his bottom lip, leaning in closer to the stationary man. His features suddenly twisted into a scared naive innocence, the same look he had always imagined on Jack's features as he fell into the poisonous chemicals.

"Please! Batman." The man gasped falling up against Bruce's steady chest, his voice void of insanity. He pressed his body into Bruce's own and the mad had to step backwards to keep them both upright. Batman's hands unconsciously shot out to steady them, his mind flashing with blue eyes instead of green.

"Please." The Joker leaned closer, eyes closing, burying his head under the vigilante's chin. The Dark Knight stayed frozen as the man lifted his head. Their cheeks brushing for a moment... then a dark chuckle broke through. Bruce tensed immediately, his grip tightening ready to throw the man away. The Joker's hand shot up to lock onto Batman's jaw.

"Save me." The madman muttered, laughing infernally, Bruce tried to pull away from his hold, but the Joker held firm. Standing on his toes madman crushed his lips against Batman's. The touch seared them both, sending chills down Bruce's spine. It was firm, pressuring, demanding and took the vigilante a moment to react. He slipped his hand between them and around the man's neck. One his gloves closed on pale skin he shoved him backward, taking a few steps. He slammed him hard into the side of the Batwing, his feet dangling off the ground. A few choking noises escaping his lips as he squirmed in the Dark Knight's hold.

"That's enough." Batman snarled tightening his grip on the man's throat. The Joker gritted his teeth against the action.

"No!" The madman barked, throwing his hands up to claw at his hold.

"I'll tell you when it's enough!" The Joker snarled back, pressing forward against the vigilante's hold despite the crushing pressure it put on his throat.

"It could have been me!" The Joker hissed, his face twisted in anger, one bare foot coming up to press against Bruce's abs.

"What?" Batman asked taken aback, his hold loosening a bit in confusion. The Joker laughed spitefully, shaking his head with a bitter smirk.

"How old was I? Seventeen? A little old for you but still. You could have saved me. Would have saved me." Bruce's heart plummeted immediately. He knew what the Joker meant, where he was going with this and he would deny it. Every step of the way, but he would be lying. For the most part.

"But I would have been lost," The Joker giggled a torn broken laugh.

"So lost. I'd of had nowhere to go." He could feel the Joker swallow against his hand as the madman nodded his head in confirmation to the emotions hiding behind the steel blue eyes.

"Don't." Bruce whispered the hint of desperation seeping through his gravel tone. He didn't want them to discuss this. Ever. He didn't want anyone to ever discuss this. Mention this.

"You'd of taken me in. Under your wing. I'd need help, but you like to help don't you?" The Joker's insinuation blatant under the statement. Bruce's blood started to boil, his heart fluttering desperately at the thoughts.

"I've seen you're brand of. Help." The Joker continued ignoring the free fist that Batman slammed next to his head. Almost denting the Batwing's metal and Bruce leaned in closer.

"Don't." He ground out, but the madman simply laughed in his face.

"Shut up." Batman growled, but the madman pressed on in spite of him.

"I would have been the first. Bats." He nodded his head, like he knew Bruce was denying it every step of the way.

"Tell me. Tell me I'm wrong!" The madman snarled at him, his own hand finding its way around Bruce's own throat, the other still clutching at his hold.

"Tell me you wouldn't have saved me! Tell me you wouldn't of taken me in! Taken me home! Patched me up! Tell me you wouldn't have mentored me. Tell me! Tell me. I wouldn't have been you're first!" The madman panted, searching Bruce's eyes for understanding.

"Robin. The first Robin." Bruce shook his head at the man's shaky tone. The Joker tightened his grip on his neck until the vigilante could actually feel it through the cowl's armor.

"It was supposed to be me." The madman hissed out almost desperately.

"God damn it! It was supposed to be me!" The Joker ended with a hysterical giggle. All Bruce could do was take a deep steadying breath. He let his own bitter quiet huff of laughter.

"You never shut up do you?" Batman asked, turning steady eyes onto the madman.

"Why? So we can continue living our lies? Me as me, you as you. Us, a world apart." The Joker asked, his eyes turning just as dead.

"No." Bruce muttered shaking his head, unsure what he was really answering.

"Tell me, I'm wrong. Do it. Tell me I'm wrong! Tell me you never thought about it. Dreamt about it on your days off from fighting crime! In you're boring board meetings! Tell me!" The Joker demanded, the madness swirling back into his green orbs. Madness born from desperation was dangerous.

"No." Batman growled tearing his eyes away from those burning green irises. He wasn't sure he wanted to deal with that madness.

"No what?! Say it!" The Joker hissed out, his clawed fingers digging into his skin through the suit. He wasn't going to say anything. He couldn't. He was sick of this shit. Yes. It was true. He'd dreamt about it. What him and Jack would have been like as partners. Once he had taken Dick in he had thought about it. Wondered if it would have been the same. But he didn't want to think about it any more.

"Shut up!" Bruce yanked him away and then slammed him painfully back into the Batwing.

"Just shut up! I don't want this to make sense. This isn't supposed to make sense! You're. Not! Supposed to make sense!" Batman snarled, getting up close. Their faces almost touching as he stared into those poisonous eyes.

"You don't do things for a reason. You're supposed to be unpredictable. Nothing you do has a purpose. That's how it's supposed to be! But you won't. Shut. Up!" Bruce slammed his back into the metal two more times as he spoke the last two words, and the madman stared at him with wide eyes.

"Just shut up!" For once the madman listened, and the Joker fell quite, breaking their eye contact of his own accord.

"You think this fucks with my head, but what about yours? This isn't healthy for either of us. Sure, maybe what you say hurts. Maybe. But it hurts you as well." Batman insisted through gritted teeth. The furrowed brows hidden behind the cowl, but the twisted frown easily noticeable when the madman meet his eyes again.

"So how about we just shut the fuck up for the rest of the night? Enough with the mind games and the great reveals of shit we don't want to think about! Because I don't want to think about Jack. You're not him. He never even existed. You can try to fool both of us that you were some innocent little kid, but we both know that's not true. You were always sick and twisted. You were always the Joker. That's how it is, was, and will be." The Joker shook his head like Batman just wasn't getting it.

"I could have been Robin." The madman insisted and Bruce shook his own head right back at him. It was true, Bruce had spent hours, days even, imagining that very scenario but it was all a fabrication. Simply because of who they were and it was time they both understood that. It wouldn't have happened, and even if it had... they'd of ended up in the same places. Batman's grip loosened as his eyes filled with pity.

"No! Jason. Jason was you! As Robin. And that didn't last. I couldn't do anything for him. He was falling and I couldn't catch him. And you, you were there, waiting for him at the bottom. But you didn't destroy him. He destroyed himself." The Joker seemed to shrink into himself the more Batman spoke, so Bruce let it all out.

"You would have been the same way. Except I wouldn't of even had a chance. I had a chance and I couldn't save Jason. But you?" Bruce let out a bit harsh laugh.

"I could never have saved you. You were never there to begin with." Bruce hissed as he slammed a palm against the Batwing. The side lit up scanning his gloved hand and the cockpit slowly slid open. The Joker tore his eyes away to stare at his feet, his red lips parted a little, his brows creased, eyes vacant as he took in the longest rant the vigilante had ever given him. Bruce let him go, taking a deep breath.

"Get in. We're done here." Batman demanded of the silent male.

"You're wrong. You don't know it, but you're wrong." The Joker whispered defiantly, so quiet Bruce had to strain to hear. Batman laughed again shaking his head.

"Just get in." Bruce muttered, feeling drained already and the night hadn't even started yet. The Joker turned around, scrambling up the side of the Batwing without looking at the vigilante. Bruce stepped back and took the moment of separation to take a deep shuddering breath. Why was dealing with one man so fucking hard? Getting his back broken was easier than this. He rubbed at his eyes, the feeling of a deep headache starting up. Taking another breath he steadied himself pushing all the emotions to the back of his mind and building brick wall around them. Opening his eyes he caught a flash of green on the platform floor. Reaching down he scooped up the pile of clothes he had retrieved for the madman and tossed into the back of the aircraft. He grabbed the side of the Batwing's cockpit and vaulted in with one smooth motion, landing perfectly in the seat. His back didn't appreciate the action, however.

The Joker had settled himself into the copilot's chair, fiddling absentmindedly with one of the joysticks. A small pout adorning his lips, his brows still creased in thought. It was only a matter of time before the time bomb behind Batman went off. Bruce flipped switches and pressed buttons until the Batwing left the ground, hovering over the platform. Batman eased it towards the cave exit, but just before he got there he blacked out the windows, setting auto pilot on. The last thing he needed was the depraved lunatic knowing where his headquarters were located. The cockpit was silent as they flew through the air and Bruce wasn't sure this was any better then the man rambling. A quiet Joker was a dangerous one. Once they were above the city he turned the shields off and they were met with a blanket of white. Apparently there was a snowstorm outside, not that he cared much, but he was glad he remembered the under suit for the maniac behind him or else the man would have frozen to death.

"Put those clothes on. It'll keep the cold out." Batman demanded manually maneuvering the Batwing over the city. The shuffling of clothes was the only answer he got in return, but it was good enough for him. The last thing he needed was the Joker bitching about freezing his ass off. After a few moments the shuffling stopped and a few more minutes passed.

"Where's the radio in this thing?" The Joker complained, breaking the silence as he pressed random buttons around the cockpit. Luckily Bruce had the option to turn off all his control of the aircraft so they didn't do anything.

"You know there's this song. I think you'd like it. It's really great. It's like our life story." The Joker started rambling, just as they flew over the old Arkham City walls. Batman suddenly realized he didn't have this planned out too well. Normally he'd jump out of the cockpit and let the Batwing hover above the city until he needed it. He didn't want to lose their element of surprise by landing in the vicinity, but he also didn't want to spend more time getting to their destination on foot then he had to. Bruce looked back at his supposed prisoner. The Joker had his lips pursed, a small frown tugging at the edges as he jabbed uselessly at random buttons. He was dressed in the black suit, gray patches on the arms, and chest where some extra padding was placed. He had put on the green gloves and had placed the green sweat pants on over the under suit. Bruce hopped he had the shoes on.

"It's called Clarity, it's all techno kinda, but its catchy. It starts out like – ." The Joker started humming an off tune beat and Bruce decided... fuck it. He pressed the ejection button, setting the plane on autopilot. The top of the cockpit flew open, their seats rising up into the open air. The Joker immediately shrieked profanities, clutching to his chair for dear life. His eyes wide for a moment, but the snow was too much, forcing him to close them. Bruce hopped up onto the chair holding on to the the back of the seat, waiting patiently as the storm raged around them. The aircraft flew around in a large circle as the madman struggled to hold on. Finally the Joker lost his grip in the whipping snow, his body flying into the flurry of white like a ragged doll, and Bruce instantly shot off after him. The plane already miles away by the time he got the madman in his sights with the heat sensors in his suit.

The Joker's stomach was in his throat as he plummeted through the air. The chill still seeping into his under suit despite what Batman had said. The madman closed his eyes as the snow slapped around him, spreading his arms out as he fell through the sky. Letting it all go, accepting.

It was suddenly Christmas eve and he was falling, a laughing mess as the building behind him exploded. The same cold air whipping around him, cutting through him. The relief that this was it and he was going out with a bang. To be remembered. Suddenly a black figure closed in on him and what the hell why not fight a little more before he dies? The Joker threw a punch, but the suited up freak blocked it easily, despite their current gravitational problem. The man finally got a hold of him while the Joker laughed swatting his away.

"Joker! Stop. Joker! Seriously!" The black figure yelled at him over the slicing wind, and the madman knew that voice. He was back and he was falling, but there was no burning building or reflective windows, just empty darkness. A strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him into that black suited body. The Joker wrapped his arms around the man and their weight shifted, the world below no longer speeding towards them, and this was where it all started. That fated night when this idiot in a Bat suit jumped off a building to save him. Even though plenty of other people were still on that balcony, probably too far gone to save but still. The night Batman had saved him, despite all he had done. Despite him being ready to die. Welcoming it. It was the night he went from trying to kill Batman to keeping him alive at all costs, despite their little games. They touched down on the roof of a large building. Gently this time, instead of the crashing, startling hit they had taken the first time.

"What the hell was that?" Batman growled quietly at the madman who was still pressed against his body.

"Remember. That night?" The Joker asked, closing his eyes. Remembering how it felt, how insane. Utterly insane it felt.

"Yeah, you're still just as suicidal." The Dark Knight complained pushing away from the madman. He crept to the edge of the building peering down into the alleyway, surveying the area. He didn't want to remember that night. It was hell in Gotham to say the least. He crouched down peering at the side of what appeared to be a warehouse. Bruce remembered that night. He needed to save the man, even if it was from himself. He was naive. You can't save someone from themselves, but he had promised to never let someone die if he could help it, even if they were a criminal. Not after... not after Jack.

"We can get in through a broken window on the left side. It'll be a large enough space." Batman stated after checking the other side as well.

"My heat vision isn't picking anything up from inside. There must be something blocking it. I have no idea what will be in there when we land." On any other night Bruce would have gone for it, just swung down into the unknown like it was nothing, but it wasn't just him this time and the Joker wasn't necessarily decked out in Kevlar.

"I'll find a different way." Batman grunted, switching on his mic.

"Oracle. I need the schematics for the abandoned warehouse, I need a better entry point. The ground is crawling with thugs." The Dark Knight informed her.

"Um, let me see. There isn't really a roof access. I'm not really seeing anything that's above ground floor. Its an old building maybe there is some caved in roof or broken windows? Zip line?" Barbara suggested unhelpfully.

"Alright, thanks." Bruce took a deep breath turning to the criminal behind him.

"We'll have to go in through the window. Once we land take cover immediately. With any luck there won't be anyone around." Batman informed him, the madman nodded and shrugged his shoulders, like busting through some windows wasn't a big deal at all. The Joker waltzed over to him, sidling up to him like it was a natural occurrence. His arms around his neck.

"Joker." Bruce muttered and the madman turned big green eyes onto him.

"Don't kill anyone." Batman stated only seconds before jumping off the building. Once they were at the ideal height he shot out his grapple gun, but he had miss gauged their combined weight. They were too low. Bruce twisted them around, his back smashing into the pane of glass beneath the broken one. It was loud, echoing through the stormy night. The shots of pain tingling through his back. The enemy had definitely heard that and would be rushing to their location. The glass fell in slow motion as they breached the building. There. Batman released the Joker, hoping to god he was paying attention and wouldn't clutch onto him. The madman fell onto the top of a pile of crates, stacked high and away from the floor, just inside the window. Bruce knocked some boxes off the crate and onto the floor where he landed as gently as he could, the contents of the box clattering across the concrete.

Shouts could be heard and he dodged to the left mere seconds after landing. Narrowly avoiding the rain of bullets that littered the crate behind him. He rolled behind another pile of crates dashing down the area and climbing up onto a stack. He ran across the crates and metal shipping containers silently, gazing across the warehouse.

He spotted the Joker crouched on the crates where he had deposited him, being careful not to move. Shards of glass glittered in his hair, and beneath his hands. A trail of blood ran down the side of his face. The men beneath him fanned out, searching the rows near the madman. Bruce activated his heat sensors, tracking their movements. They were always stupid leaving in groups of twos or even better, by themselves. Batman waited patiently as two of them crept down the walkway near him. He dropped down silently behind them slamming their heads painfully together, before dashing back up the crates. Not even giving the man just turning the corner a chance to see him. The criminal's panicked shouts echoed through the warehouse, telling everyone to watch their backs. He looked back over to where he had left the Joker, but the spot was empty. Just the glass left to glitter in his place.

"Shit." Bruce muttered under his breath, creeping across the crates in search of the maniac. He dropped down again to take out the lone thug, before returning to his search. He didn't get much longer to look when the wicked voice echoed across the building.

"Nobody move! Or the clown gets it!" The Joker's voice giggled from the front of the warehouse. He hopped down taking out another lone thug, returning to his place above. Bruce gave up and dashed across the crates, only slowing down to silently approach when he was only a few crates away. He knelt at the edge of the crate, taking in the situation. The Joker stood behind a copy of his more dolled up persona that was seated in a large king like chair on top of a single shipping container, like he was the ruler overlooking his kingdom. A pistol shook in the Joker's hand as he wrestled with his copy, who wasn't too happy about being manhandled and putting up quite the fight despite the gun pointed to his head.

"Stop. Squirming! You're making me twitchy! And I have to admit I already have quite the trigger finger." The Joker howled with laughter, pressing the gun harder into the doppelganger's temple.

"How about. Everyone puts the guns down!" The Joker asked with a giggle, cocking the pistol. That made the fake Joker fall still for a moment.

"Do it! Put them down! I'm not going to die like this." The fake clown shouted, squirming some more against the Joker's hold but with a little less vigor.

"Yeah that's it. Now kick them under those crates! Atta' Boys. That wasn't so hard now was it?" The Joker asked as the sound of metal scraping against concrete echoed through the building. The guns sliding under the wooden platforms keeping the crates from touching the ground. That just made Batman's job easier, but right now he needed to figure out how to separate the two madmen. A shot echoed across the small clearing, the sound bouncing around the metal crates. The Joker cried out in annoyance, falling to the ground, taking the fake one with him. The chair toppled over the sound echoing through the warehouse like gong. The pistol slipped out of his hands clattering to the metal top a few inches away from him. The thugs on the ground surged forward immediately, ready to assist in subduing the real Prince of Anarchy.

The Joker scrambled for the gun only to have a clawed hand tear at his face, leaving angry red welts behind. While one of the criminals attempted to fish a gun out from underneath one of the crates, another one, the one who shot at the Joker, came running into the clearing. Batman dropped down on top of him, taking him out with one twist of his body. He landed solidly against the ground, the criminal crashing to the concrete, and fired his grappling hook at the man searching for a gun. The criminal fell backwards onto his ass, when the hook landed and Batman gave it a generous tug. When his back hit the ground Bruce ran forward and vaulted onto him. Slamming closed fists into his head, which slammed painfully against the concrete.

The rest of the thugs knew of his presence by then and switched targets. Bruce didn't have time to get off the first thug as he blocked and countered the first punch aimed at his face by thug two. He quickly rolled sideways off the downed criminal as another one, thug three, decided to get grabby. Still crouched he shot a leg out twisting his body in a circle, swiping the man two's legs out from under him. He quickly dropped his back to the ground to avoid a kick to the face by a different criminal. While down Batman gave the downed man beside him an elbow to the face, thug two's head smashing back into the concrete with a satisfying crack. Thug two out. He kicked the nearest thug's knee out with one boot, tumbling backward onto his feet.

Another shot echoed into the air just as he stood up and Batman's head jerked towards the sound, seeing the Joker and the fake grappling hazardously with the gun. Another shot went wild, taking out one of the thugs who fell to the ground in agony. Bruce suddenly had a face full of fist, his jaw throbbing, and he stumbled back, taking a punch to the stomach. He grabbed that hand before it could retreat and twisted violently, taking pleasure in the snap and sharp cry of pain. To top it off he roundhouse kicked the thug, back into the remaining five. Two of them fell under the man's weight. Thug four downed.

Another shot went off, this time the sound of metal on metal pinged around the warehouse. The vigilante didn't turn his attention. Batman blocked an uppercut with crossed arms, then a left hook by dodging the thrust. Grabbing the man's wrist he slammed an open palm into his elbow. The fifth man cried out in pain and fell to one knee. The Dark Knight blocked the sixth man's punch, while the other two scrambled out from underneath their buddy's unconscious body, and the third man recovered from having his knee cap kicked out.

Bruce sent a knee into the kneeling man's chin, knocking him back into the ground, his head lolling to the side. Thug five laid out. The other thug took a step back drawing a knife as the other two finally scrambled to their feet. Some more shots went off, this time Bruce didn't look to see where they had went or bothered listening. The man with the knife lunged at him and Batman dodged the first slash, but it put him in the range of another thug, who took a swing at him. The vigilante blocked it but the man with the knife slashed again. Batman just barely dodged the second swipe but he took a kick to the side of his knee from the man beside him. He fell to one knee, blocking another slash with his forearm. The blade ground into his armor, but didn't damage his skin. He cock shot thug seven beside him just before he took a hit to the back of the head from the man. The criminal still cuffed him on the ear, the area flaming up immediately despite the cowls protection.

Bruce swung his leg around knocking the man with the blade down. He quickly shifted onto his knees, slamming a fist decisively into the man's face. Thug six down. It seemed thug three was back in the game as Bruce lazily lifted an arm to block the man's haphazard punch. Standing up swiftly he headbutted the man in the face, easily breaking his nose. The thug fell to the ground unconscious, thug three down. The seventh thug seemed to have recovered from his nuts being crunched, because he charged angrily at the vigilante. Batman side stepped the man, catching his head in an arm. He fell backwards slamming the thugs face into the concrete. Seven out.

His head jerked up, looking for the last man. The only remaining thug was trying to pull the same gun from beneath the wooden stand. Bruce stood up throwing a well aimed batarang that sliced through the man's hand. The thug cried out, clutching the hand to his chest as he pivoted around just in time to get a flying fist to the face. Batman landed gracefully over the downed man, but the peace didn't last long. A large mass slammed into his body, his back smashing into the metal crate. The material creaked and bending under the pressure. Stunned he suddenly found himself flying through the air, colliding with a shipping container on the opposite side. His side slamming into the metal bars on the front. He grunted in pain as he fell to the ground with a thud. He coughed as his lungs tried to compensate for the sudden forceful removal of air. A deep yell sounded and Bruce looked up just in time to see a hulking man charging at him. Batman lifted himself up onto his elbows, chucking a batarang at the man's face. It hit him square in the forehead and the giant thug veered off course by a few inches. Giving the vigilante the time he needed to get out of his way. He sat up as the thug slammed into the shipping container, the object sliding along the floor a few feet. Batman surged forward moving quickly to his feet while the thug shook his head, a large dent in the metal crates wall.

The man snarled angrily and Batman dashed across the clearing putting some distance between them. The hulking man followed that action with a rage fueled charge. The Dark Knight threw another batarang, but the man turned his head, avoiding the shock of the hit, instead taking a gouge to the cheek. Bruce took the small window of distraction to dash around the criminal, twisting up and onto his back. He quickly slid an arm around the man's neck pulling tight. The thug reared backwards stumbling as he swatted at Batman with beefy arms. Bruce's eyes slid up a little and then grew wide.

"Joker no!" Batman cried out, his grip tightening on the man's neck. The Joker stood on the shipping container, the fake clown on his knees near the madman, pleading for his life. The pistol up against the copies head. Blood poured down the copies face through gashes, the Joker's hands covered in blood. The Joker's green eyes snapped up to gaze at him and they stared at each other for one long moment. Bruce's eyes pleading, the Joker's empty. And then he smirked slowly. His finger tightening. Pulling the trigger. Blood splattered in a shower of brains across the thugs passed out on the floor. Bruce was suddenly slammed up against a crate, his momentary distraction giving the large man time to recover. Batman reasserted his hold, wearing the man down while taking a few more bruising hits to the back. The hulking thug slowed until he was sluggishly swatting his arms. Bruce released him a few seconds after he went completely slack, slumping to the ground. Slipping out from behind him, he turned horrified at the gory mess in front of him.

"Oh come on! Don't give me that look!" The Joker complained waving the gun around like it was a toy. Like the brains and blood on the ground was just water and confetti.

"I was doing him a favor! You can't fix crazy! Trust me." The maniac muttered, kicking the man's dead boy. The clown's body slumped forward sliding sickeningly off the edge of the crate to hit the ground with a wet squelch and thud.

"You weren't supposed to kill anyone. This wasn't the deal!" Batman cried out, anger coursing through his veins.

"The deal? That was a mercy kill!" The Joker cried out, pointing to the crumpled body Bruce refused to look at.

"Look. Those guys!" The madman stated, gesturing around in circles at the men on the ground.

"Are all alive. That's what you wanted! This world can't handle more of me! His brain was fried anyways! You can't cure that shit! I saved him!" The Joker insisted with vigor, pointing the gun jerkily down at the dead body.

"You keep saying that! He could have been helped!" Batman roared at him, the blood coursing through his vein five times faster than it was during the previous fight.

"No he couldn't!" The Joker snarled back.

"So what you think the best way to handle insanity is to just off them?!" The Dark Knight asked incredulously.

"Yeah! I do!" The maniac shouted back in frustration. Like Bruce wasn't seeing the bigger picture.

"What about you then?! Is that how we should handle you?! Give you the death sentence and be done with it!" Batman barked back in irritation, throwing his hands out incredulously. The Joker sucked in his bottom lip, shaking his head as he tore his eyes away from the vigilante. Dry chuckles slipping past his bitter smile.

"Is that what you want? You want me dead?" The Joker asked his face void of emotion, his head nodding limply.

"It is isn't. That's what it is!" The Joker cried at him, the gun pointing hazardously at the Dark Knight.

"No." Bruce muttered, shaking his head, that wasn't what he meant. This was supposed to be the other way around.

"No. No. You're just too. Scared. To do it yourself!" The madman hissed taking a few steps forward. Then suddenly he twisted his arm, placing the barrel of the pistol underneath his chin. Bruce's entire body tensed up, fear striking his soul.

"No!" Bruce yelled out instantly, his body jerking forward a step, but stopping afraid any sudden movement would tip the balance. The Joker smiled shaking his head sadly.

"It's okay. I can do it for you! It's what you want isn't it? A clear conscious? Save us while you can! But wish we were dead all the same! Such a fucking martyr." The Joker scowled several steps backwards.

"Joker, please. Put the gun down." Batman pleaded with him, taking a step forward as well, his hands out trying to calm him.

"No... No." The Joker shook his head, "Anything for you Bats... baby." The shot echoed through the room, and Bruce lunged forward.

"No!" He cried out, desperately scrambling over the unconscious bodies. The Joker fell backwards his head over the other side of the shipping container, his body still. The pistol clattering to the concrete behind the container. Bruce hauled himself up the metal, his heart hammering in his chest, the mantra of no repeating over and over in his head. He got a knee up onto the top and froze instantly. Fury coursing through his being. He he slowly stood up on the top of the shipping container, his boots slamming against the metal as he stalked over to the Joker's body. The madman's head was tilted over the side, not breathing. Dead. Bruce drew back a boot and let loose. Kicking him hard in the side, sending his body flying over the side of the container and crashing onto the floor below.

"You son of a bitch!" Batman roared out, dropping down to the ground as well, his boots thunking against the floor. He raised his foot again, aiming a well placed kick to the madman's stomach. Except this time hands shot up to stop him. The Joker's body only slid a few feet, his pale hands clutching Bruce's black boot. Laughter started up, echoing across the room.

"Can't a dead guy rest?! Jesus. You're so violent!" The Joker crowed, keeping that boot from pulling back and repeating the attack.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Where did you get those blanks?!" Batman raged, tearing his boot out of the maniac's grip.

"Oh. What? Wait! Were you... you weren't... actually. Worried. About little old me? Come on love, I'd never leave you!" The Joker snickered, Bruce aimed another kick, slamming into him hard, sending him sliding farther along the ground with a pained grunt. Batman was there in seconds, one sturdy heel pressed against the madman's skull, keeping him pinned to the ground.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. That. Really. Hurts." The Joker ground out, his slapping his hands against rubber, keeping Batman's boot from crushing his skull.

"Where did you get them?" Batman asked again, his voice dark, rage boiling beneath.

"You're. Place. I got them at your place! You were so sweet! Letting me wander around by myself. You have such fun toys!" The madman giggled his voice muffled as Bruce applied more pressure.

"Don't fucking bull shit me! I never let you out of my sight!" Batman snarled trying to remember any time the Joker could have slipped away and found the false bullets.

"I got." The Joker tried to grind out, the pressure becoming a little too much.

"It from. The... cabinet." He finally ground out, Bruce snarled pushing off of his head, he paced back then pivoted angrily, walking forward a few steps. He had let him out of his sight. Damn it! He had set himself up for this bull shit and he had played right into it. Had felt exactly what that fucking piece of shit wanted him to feel. Bruce took a deep breath turning back around and stalking over to the discarded gun. He cocked the chamber, aimed at the metal crate above the madman's head and fired until the gun clicked empty. Not that anything happened with those three shots. Batman dismantled the gun, his actions jerky, dropping each piece furiously to the ground. Its metal clattering in the silence.

"You killed him." Batman muttered in disgust, not even bothering to look at the man. The stood up on shaky legs, walking over to the vigilante. He slipped around his back, placing two hands on his shoulders he trailed his hands down over rigid muscle. Around his sides and up the front of his chest.

"And yet, you were more worried about my death." The Joker grinned to himself. The Dark Knight snarled and spun around. Grabbing a fist full of the man's suit, he lifted him up off the ground. Slamming one fist painfully into his face. The Joker jerked back with the force. His laughter faltering with the impact. He opened his mouth again, but Bruce cut him to it throwing him hard onto the ground and punching him again, and then again. When the madman fell to the ground he grabbed a handful of his suit and lifted him back up. The sound of leather meeting flesh not nearly as satisfying as Batman wanted it to be, but he punched him again regardless. One more punch and the Dark Knight let him slump to the concrete. Closing his eyes Bruce tilted his head up towards the heavens, taking a deep steadying breath. The Joker's palm slapped against Batman's calf, then the other to his thigh and the madman pulled himself up off the ground. Resting his face on Bruce's inner thigh, he gazed up at him.

"You weren't supposed to kill anyone." Batman whispered, not willing to look at the man, but too tired to remain angry. At least that's what he told himself.

"What kind of life would he have lived otherwise?" The maniac asked quietly, devoid of the madness he's claimed to hold.

"My type of crazy shouldn't be take lightly." He muttered pressing his bruised cheek into Bruce's leg.

"Don't be mad Bats. Baby. Come on. I'm not dead. I know that scared you. I could hear it. In your voice. Did you hear it?" The madman asked his hand moving from the calf up to rest on the vigilante's stomach. Avoiding any places that would freak the tense vigilante out.

"You're fucked up." Bruce muttered, then he lightly kneed him in the jaw. It wasn't enough to send the man flying but enough to get him out of his personal bubble. Enough to snap his teeth together and send his head veering backwards. The Joker threw his body to the side, slapping his hands against the concrete to stop his head from hitting the ground and Bruce took a few steps away from him.

"Admit it. You never wanted me dead." The Joker demanded, turning burning green eyes his direction.

"I've never wanted you dead." Bruce stated, his eyes icy his lips thin. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"You're the only one that needed some fucking clarification." Batman snarled turning away from him, he stalked back around the crate. Ready to tie up the remaining thugs, as the Joker huffed a laugh and fell back to the ground, snickers starting up. He tied up two of them and was moving to the third when the madman's laughter finally died down and silence reigned over them again. The Joker apparently finally decided to peel himself off the concrete and propped himself up against the side of the shipping container, only a few inches from some oozing blood. He opened his mouth ready to start up some bullshit when Batman held up a gloved hand, calling for silence. Was that... they were missing a thug.

"Shit." Bruce cursed, turning circles around the place trying to located the ominous beeping noise. He dashed around a shipping container, and tore open the door. There was a bomb. It was okay though. He could easily disarm it. He bent down, taking off the cover.

"Whatcha doin' cupcake?" The Joker asked accompanied by the sound of flesh against metal as he limped his way over. Bruce was just about to pull the wire when another beeping started up. His head perked up and he turned around staring at the shipping container one row down. Then another beeping started, and slowly a cacophony of electrical beeps filtered through the air, shattering the silence completely into a cascade of noise. Bruce could hardly hear himself think. This bomb had ten minutes on it, and there was no way he could disarm them all.

"Time to leave sparky. Unless you want to die together. I'm okay with that." The Joker sighed dramatically huffing himself in next to the vigilante. Bruce ignored him, turning back to the device he ripped out the wire, disarming it.

"We need to get them out of here." Batman stated, rushing back into the room, he dropped down picking up the nearest thug, and hauling him over his shoulder, his eyes darting around the room. There had to be something, anything... There. He hauled the man over to a shipping container on a conveyor belt leading to the outside. Dropping the man on the ground he ignored the Joker's protests. It took him several seconds to pry open the door, but eventually it popped open with a screech of metal. Batman picked up the thug again, throwing him roughly into the crate. The Joker laughed dryly sitting back and watching from atop the blood stained shipping container, his feet swinging back and forth in amusement. Bruce hauled all the thugs as quickly as possible to the container. Batman knew he'd popped several stitches, and the bullet wound on his leg was protesting profusely. He was just on the hulk of a man which was a ridiculous task when the Joker's voice finally filtered into his brain.

"We've got like... wait for it. A minute left." The Joker stated nonchalantly, and Bruce just realized the madman had one of the devices in his hands. Batman put some more back into it, hauling the monster man onto the belt then dragging him into the crate.

"Thirty seconds." The Joker informed him juggling the bomb like it was a music box. Bruce slammed the doors shut, dashing to the madman he ripped the device out of his hands, placing it on the container. He tugged the madman off the metal and threw him over his shoulder. The Joker squeaked indignantly, then squealed with excitement. Batman hauled ass to the very front of the warehouse, slamming a fist into the on button for the conveyor belt. It didn't move. He slammed it a few more times, then gave up. They didn't have time. He jumped through the large window his arm taking most of the damage. He landed sloppily on the other side, almost slipping in the glass. Tearing his grappling hook from his belt he aimed it at the closest building. It snagged. Behind him was a piercing creak of metal, then the wind was soaring past their ears. Metal crashed against metal, then the world lit up. Bruce's hand touched the edge of the building just as the warehouse ignited. He had them in the air vaulting over the edge when the blast hit them sending them sliding, and rolling, across the snow covered roof. His ears rang as he slammed to a stop, a burning chunk of metal landed near his arm. Bright and on fire. His head swiveled around immediately, locating the madman he had brought with him. Rolling to the right he threw his body over the Joker's as they were suddenly littered in molten debris. A split seconds later it was over, just ash raining down around them mixed with the snow. The world a litany of gray, white and flickering orange. Batman's back was an uncomfortable temperature and something was searing into his lower spine. He rolled over and a chunk of metal fell off into the snow.

"Bruce?! Bruce are you alright?" Barbara's voice echoed through the static on his radio, but Batman ignored it as another explosion rocked the foundation. He rolled back over the Joker's coughing body, covering his head with his arms. Bruce let out a sigh of relief when no fiery hail rained down on them. He let his head fall, resting in the melting snow. The Joker remained quiet underneath him. His body heat barely intelligible through the suit. The madman turned his head, his breath warm against his cooling skin. The madman's breath hitched, ready to break the silence when someone else beat him to it. Harley's voice came crackling over Arkham City's old speaker system.

"Hey! How are you two holdin' up, huh? How'd you like the present we sent ya? I bet it was pretty explosive!" The girl laughed with her obnoxious accent.

"Hopefully by now you two are dead! Ha! But I don't like getting my hopes up. So if you aren't dead. Well you suck! Next time just die and make it all easier for us. Anyway if you're alive, Mista' J has some nice ideas up his sleeve so next time... you won't be!" The speakers crackled out with her laughter and Bruce groaned in annoyance. They had to deal this those two tonight. At the rate they were going, the entire city would be up in flames by the time they were done.

"Can we pleeeease go visit my dear old Harley Quinn?" The Joker asked pleadingly and Bruce propped himself up with his arms, staring out at the flashing lights of the approaching police cars.

"Yeah. We can. We definitely can." Batman muttered, then without warning a gloved hand was suddenly around the madman's pale throat. Pressing the madman into the melting snow.

"If you kill one more person today." Bruce paused his anger fading, his face devoid of emotion. A cold statue.

"You will regret it. I swear to you." The Dark Knight promised quietly, and the Joker stared up at him. Taking in those sharp cold steel blue eyes, flickering on the edges with the raging flames behind him. And what a sight that made. Batman's hard chiseled form above him, accented by dancing chaos, and deadly steel resolve. All the Joker could really do was nod his head in awe. His skin tingling from the contact. There was a lot of hard muscled body pressed into him right now. It was kinda hard to think.

"Good. Let's go pay your girlfriend a visit." Batman stated, turning to look at the flaming destruction behind them.

"Ex." The Joker muttered and Bruce's lips tugged up a little, but first. He needed to check on those thugs. The police should be able to handle any extraction of the medicine from the burning flames themselves. If the cargo was even in there. Hopefully it wasn't.

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Soooo I see Robin as like Roy Harper. He's pretty sexy. Lol. Those jaw bones. DAAAAAMAN son!

I would like to thank everyone who's been reviewing. I've had some writer's block. I thought I had to write it a certain way, but I didn't want to write all the bull shit of them walking to the stupid warehouse or stealthing or whatever. Bleh boring banter. Dropping in worked lol. Guess you didn't have to wait too long PsychoticDuck. And yes Petricor. I cried when I ran out of good fanfiction too. Then I wrote this... Well I wrote the Dominion one first... but that ones not that great. XD