Simon sat motionless on the cheap leather of the booth, still in the same position that The Joker and Bruce had left him in at least 5 minutes ago. The scenes of the night were playing over and over in his potentially brilliant mind, all of them poisoned by The Joker.
His jittering movements, the thoroughly worn face-paint that had worried itself so completely into his face that it was a part of it, his nimble fingers that held a blade so surely. Simon hated every possibly thing about him. Such absolute rebellion of convention was not normal, not healthy. Simon hated that he could not understand him but felt disgusted for wanting to.
He felt a rush of frustrated anger at The Joker for ruining what he had spent months planning. Having the Joker on his side, for the shortest time possible preferably- having that mad man near him made Simon feel like he was contaminating the very air around him, would have been the last nail in the coffin for Wayne, and he would have had to comply with his demands. As it was now, he had just given Wayne an ally.
He remembered the shrill, never ending laughter that had erupted from the man after he had sought him out and told him what he knew. He had assumed at the time that it was in joy at finally having something against the bat, but now it seemed he was laughing at Simon. It was clear now that The Joker intended to stand by the Batman for God knows what reason.
The suddenly apparent drip of something disturbed Simon's thoughts. He looked around and saw that one of his men had fallen onto one of the tables during The Joker's massacre, and the pool of blood that had formed on the surface had now started to run off the edge. Simon watched the small puddle that was forming before his eyes in a strange limbo between any thoughts.
The rhythmic sound spurred the cogs in his brain into working again.
His eyes darted about the horrific scene in front of him, of the bodies of his ex-employees spread out across the room in unnatural positions. It was ok, he told himself; he had more men at his disposal, the death of these few wasn't much of loss. The real problem here was The Joker. Simon was sure he could break Wayne if he didn't have the other in the way. Batman had rules and he couldn't afford his identity revealed, but the Joker had no rules and nothing to loose.
He paused, contemplating for a moment, before pulling out his mobile from his jacket pocket and dialling a number.
The club was past its peek now, the air was stale with sweat and the cigarette smoke that had clung to people's clothes, but to Bruce it was the most liberating scent in the world. He breathed in gulps of it as though the room he had just exited had been filled with water not air.
His unsteady legs carried him away from the sheltered room without looking back at the man that might or might not be following him. The bright, flashing lights that followed him around the club were throwing him more out of sorts, adding to his state of bewilderment.
An almost forbidden excitement was growing inside him; he felt like a child that had gotten away with breaking something and couldn't believe their luck for not being found out.
He had nearly lost everything for a moment back there and there was a point where he was sure it was all over; protecting Gotham, the double life, the freedom. But then the Joker of all people had saved him.
Thoughts of the Joker suddenly flooded Bruce's mind, a subject that he had been trying to avoid up till now. He had known his identity for what appeared to be quite a while now and Bruce knew that that thought should disturb him or at least anger him but strangely it didn't. He hadn't done anything with the information, in fact from the looks of it he had been trying to help Bruce keep it a secret. Bruce even had a feeling the reason The Joker had turned up to the meeting tonight was to make sure his identity stayed hidden by whatever ridiculous and violent means necessary.
Bruce furrowed his brow; trust the joker to be so irritatingly enigmatic.
He reluctantly turned around to try and see said criminal in the crowd of people, suddenly aware that a Joker unleashed upon a crammed room of civilians was probably not the best idea. Although, he had probably satisfied his blood lust for that evening after what he did to Falcone's men. A slight glimmer of satisfaction arose in Bruce at the memory and the Batman part of him scolded him in disgust.
His eyes settled on the Joker behind him, a few groups of people separating them, pushing through the crowd to try and keep up with Bruce. Bruce almost considered pausing to allow The Joker to catch him up but quickly banished the thought as nonsense. Since when had they become a partnership?
There was a cheerful look upon The Joker's face, although Bruce didn't think this was abnormal as The Joker always seemed to be grinning, but there was also a hunger to the look as both he and Bruce gazed at each other, that Bruce felt slightly unnerving.
Bruce watched as the Joker roughly pushed a particularly engrossed couple aside, his eyes fixed on Bruce, clearly uncaring of whoever got in his way. Bruce almost winced sympathetically as he saw the jolted couple's drinks spill over them. The rather haughty looking man turned around looking livid and starting yelling inaudible things to the Joker's back. The Joker, still purposefully stalking towards Bruce, ignored the man. Bruce wondered if he even registered him at all. The way he was staring at Bruce gave him the unsettlingly impression that The Joker couldn't see anything else in the room apart from him.
As the Joker hadn't ceased walking, the man, seemingly desperate for some sort of vengeance, threw the rest of the half lost drink at the Joker's retreating back.
The Joker stilled, the content of the glass dripping down the back of his coat, seeping through the fabrics underneath to dampen his skin. There were a few snide titters from the man's partner and she clutched to the man's arm in pride while he grinned with satisfaction.
Bruce watched in dismay as The Joker's smile turned to an ugly look of pure anger; the expression made even more terrible by the way his face twisted at the pull of his scars. He slowly turned back towards the man, a hand slipping into one of his pockets.
Bruce started frantically pushing back through the crowd, yelling at the Joker, desperate to intervene, to prevent the inevitable.
There was a shrill shriek of horror that erupted from the man's companion as both she and Bruce watched The Joker plunge a blade that he had produced alarmingly fast, into the man's neck. No rambling story, no teasing or mind games. He must have really liked that jacket, Bruce thought darkly, shoving club goers aside.
Bruce finally reached the Joker who was still clutching the twitching body and ripped him away from it.
"You. Fucking. Moron!" Bruce yelled savagely into his ear as he dragged the Joker by the collar of his soaking coat away form the now still body and hysterical girl.
"He disserved it! This coat was tailor made!" the Joker spat, struggling in Bruce's arms. Bruce glowered at him, tightening his grip and tried to get them across the room as quickly as possible without being recognised.
Thankfully, the deafening music had mostly swallowed the girl's scream and people were still looking around for the source. But as they made their way toward the exit, panic was rippling across the room; screams and sobs sounded about the room and just before they reached the exit the music cut out and the screams grew louder.
The pleasant buzz that had briefly dwelled in Bruce at the success over Falcone, had completely evaporated, now all that was left was the usual anger, increased by ten folds. He felt livid; not just towards the Joker but towards himself as well. He had allowed himself to briefly, almost inadvertently, think that the Joker was better than he really was. That maybe there was a decent person under all that makeup and scars and helping Bruce was him starting to try and get better.
But no, everything he had done had all been purely selfish Bruce realised. He only helped Bruce so that he could continue 'play' with Batman and so as not to get bored. Bruce could possibly have justified the henchman killings but the murder of that man was inexcusable and just proved to Bruce how wrong he had been about him.
Bruce rushed them passed the bouncers and loiterers outside who were too distracted by the ruckus inside to notice them anyway. He was too enraged to even wait for the valet to get his car and also too wary of how he would look waiting around clutching the Joker.
He pulled the Joker with him, ignoring the laughter coming form the man, desperate to get as far away from the club as possible so he could dump the Joker somewhere and go home, get changed to the batsuit and then go beat the crap out of some unsuspecting criminals, maybe even the Joker if he could find him again. That thought gave Bruce deep satisfaction.
They finally made it around the corner of the street to one that was more residential therefore much more quiet. This street was unexpectedly empty for such a large city but as it was near the narrows and it was coming up to midnight, it wasn't really that surprising.
The Joker pushed himself out of Bruce's strong grip, stumbling backwards while he did so.
"Can you just cool it Bats! We got away, its ok now!" He said, straightening his coat.
"How the hell is it ok? You just killed a man for no reason and I just incriminated my self by helping you escape." Bruce rubbed a hand over his eyes, the full extent of the Joker's actions only just settling in.
"Not only that but there are now five other bodies lying in the back of that club with an eye witness sitting right next to them. Do you really think that someone like Falcone will just let that slide?"
The Joker was hardly listening, twisting his body around to try and get a look at his stained jacket.
"Do you think it notices that much? It'd better come out or I swear to God…"
Bruce threw his hands in the air and had to walk away from The Joker to stop himself from pummelling him into the pavement with his fists.
"You know, I don't see why you're being so tetchy. You're acting like this is all my fault."
Bruce turned around to him slowly, a look of incredulity on his face.
"I'm acting like it's your fault because it is your fault, you psychopath! You're the one who killed all those people!" He turned away from the clown in disbelief. "I don't know what's stopping me dragging you to Arkham right now."
"Excuse me! I only turned up tonight to save your skin! You didn't seem to mind me so much when I was baling you out of the mess you had created!" The Joker snarled.
"I never asked you for help, there was nothing keeping you at that meeting! Anyway, I would have been fine without you."
"Oh yeah? You seemed just peachy back there; practically shitting yourself and saying fuck all! Without me, you would be packing your bags right now!"
"I would have been fine!" Bruce roared at the clown, the truth of his words causing his anger to get the better of him. "I always do everything by myself, why would this have been any different?"
"You know, you didn't have to come back for me in the club, you could have left me and gotten away without any danger of being linked back to me." The Joker murmured quietly, peering at Bruce through green tendrils.
"What- I- No I couldn't, I- how did I know you weren't going to hurt more people if I just left you there?" Bruce spluttered, rather thrown off by the random statement.
"I wouldn't have, you know I wouldn't have, it was only that dick keeping me in that stinking place, yet you came back to get me."
"Look, your making this into a big deal when it really wasn't-"
"It's just like I always said, we are perfect for each other! We look out for one an other, pick up the pieces when the other stumbles…" The Joker was doing an odd sort of dance about Bruce as he said this, slowly moving from foot to foot; close enough to get his point across to Bruce, but not enough for Bruce to swat him away.
"Stop it! Stop acting like- like we're friends or something! You're absolutely deluding yourself if you think anything has changed between us because of this evening, that my feelings towards you and what you have done have changed! You are still scum to me." Bruce half yelled, half growled, the Joker's words irking him to no end.
"Oh Brucey, you know things have changed, the way you were looking at me in the club, couldn't you feel it?" The Joker cackled, leaning close to Bruce, ghosting his hands over his chest.
Bruce felt something snap in him at this and raised his arm up and punched the Joker in the face, with all the pent up rage he had been carrying from the evening backing the force.
The Joker stumbled backwards, still guffawing loudly.
"You know, it so fun to find all your little buttons and ramming them down to see how far you will go!"
Bruce let out a snarl and slammed his fist again into The Joker jaw. He wheezed out more laughter, tongue flicking out to catch the dribble of blood that leaked out the corner of his mouth.
"Has Batsy come out to play?"
Bruce made a movement towards The Joker, fully intent on connecting his fists with as much of him as he could, when a sudden roar of noise and bright lights engaged all his sense.
He turned his head to find the source of the interruption when he was suddenly flung back against the wall of the nearest house, falling hard to the ground, his head connecting with the stone steps that lead up to the residence with a sickening 'crack'.
From his position on the cold ground, he heard the loud thumps of hollowed metal being hit, glass cracking and the shriek of laughter, before the roar was disappearing. There was the faint screech of rubber before a ringing silence.
Lights were shinning in front of Bruce's eyes, he knew he had to clear them, to be able to see and think clearly but they were so bright. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping this would rid his head of these unwanted lights. They transformed into multicoloured shaped floating behind his eyelids, melding into one another or straying just at the corner of his eye.
They slowly dissolved until there was only purple and green left. Bruce felt a sense of familiarity with these colours, like he knew they were linked to him in some way but his throbbing head would not let his memories come freely. Snippets of thought were coming to him sluggishly; pounding music and flashing blue lights, red spurting in rivets, yelling in the street, brighter lights than the ones in Bruce's head rushing towards him and... Oh God, The Joker.
Bruce sat up quickly, an action that was clearly a mistake. His head seemed to be revolving on the spot, his eyes unable to focus. He screwed his eyes closed again, desperate for clarity. He slowly raised one of his hands and gingerly touched the back of his throbbing head, when he retracted the hand it was stained with blood.
Bruce groaned, this was feeling terribly similar to a concussion. But he couldn't have one right now; now he needed to find the Joker. He slowly opened his eyes, sudden movements seemed off the table right now, and took in the scene in front of him.
The Joker was lying a few feet away from him, his back towards Bruce, unmoving. Bruce's eyes widened. The Joker's long coat had wrapped around him like a blanket and his wild hair covered any of his face that Bruce might have been able to see. He looked so fragile lying in the road like that, it was hard to believe what that small, doll like figure was capable of.
"Joker?" Bruce croaked.
Still no movement.
Bruce drew in a shaky breath; he remembered hands pushing him away, trying to keep him safe.
He staggered up and lurched forward, still unbalanced, and clutched on to the wall for support. He took a tentative step forward, then when no more lights or colours appeared, made his unsteady way across to the motionless body near him.
He dropped down next to it, calling The Joker's name again. He rested a hesitant hand on his shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
"Can you hear me, Joker?" He gave the shoulder a little shake after there was no response, cautious for any broken bones.
A small giggle sounded in the man's throat and Bruce sighed in relief.
"Joker, if you're pretending this is one of your lesser jokes."
A blackened eye slowly opened and his lips split into a grin.
"I was good at playing possum, wasn't I?" he whispered in a weak voice. Bruce couldn't resist a small smile.
"I suppose. Does anything hurt? Can you move everything? You're not bleeding anywhere are you?"
The Joker gave a croaky laugh.
"See, I knew you cared."
"Seriously, are you able to get up?"
"Lets find out shall we?"
The Joker slowly sat up with Bruce aiding him at his elbow.
"See, I am indestructible!" The Joker grinned, but Bruce noted the slight wince he had given with the motion.
"You're going to need to go to hospital, I can see you're hurt." Bruce couldn't help the concern that slipped into his voice.
"Ah, you remember who you're talking to, big guy? If I trot into a hospital demanding treatment, they're just going to whisk me away to Arkham as soon as my boo-boos are healed up and I have no intent to ever go back there."
Bruce frowned.
"I fail to see the down side here."
The Joker glared at him.
"You're awfully mean to someone who just saved your bacon- again."
Bruce looked away from those intense eyes, rather bashful.
"Oh yes, ah, thank you for that. You really didn't need to do that."
The Joker stared at him for a moment, grinning like the loon he was, savouring the moment before continuing.
"Well yes actually as it happens there really was no need. They weren't aiming for you, they were aiming for me."
"What?" Bruce hadn't even started to think about the motive behind the attack, or the attack at all for that matter. The Joker and his well-being had taken up most of his thoughts.
"I'm thinking Sy wasn't too happy about how his little soiree went down earlier and decided to dish out a little pay back." The Joke said in a slightly strained voice as he leaned back to crick is back.
"He seems like the sort of creep that would get someone else to do his dirty work." Bruce said darkly, watching The Joker cautiously, seeking out any visible injuries.
"Yeah, I don't really see him risking denting his Porsche just for little ol' me." The Joker started to try and get up, but slumped back down with a giggle.
"I don't think the old legs have quite recuperated yet."
"Look, I'm serious about the hospital, you're clearly in pain. You just got hit by a car for Christ sake!" Bruce said exasperatedly.
"There is no way in hell I'm going to the hospital and if you try and take me I shall run, I'm warning you. And then you will have my injuries I get from that on your batty conscience!" The Joker said glaring up at Bruce.
"Ok, Ok. No hospital." Bruce said, holding his hands up as if to show he wasn't going to force him. "But there's no way you're getting home alone like this."
"Trust me, I've had worse, sweetie. Mostly from you." The Joker smirked.
Bruce frowned at him.
"Yeah, well, you deserved it."
"And I don't now?" The Joker said with a sly smile.
Bruce paused. The Joker had killed several people tonight, and not to mention what he had done before then, and yet Bruce still couldn't help but think of him as the victim.
"Don't be stupid, no one deserved to be hit by a car, no matter what they've done." Bruce looked away from the man; he could hardly believe he was talking to the Joker like this. "Now come on, we need to get you out of here before anyone comes out to see what all that noise was. You really do have the most annoyingly recognisable laugh."
Bruce glanced around at the houses around them for any signs of movement at the windows, but everything was still. Apparently, hit and runs were a common thing in this neighbourhood.
"Right well, as the hospital isn't an option, you can just take me home then." He gave Bruce a smirk. "I might even give you a kiss on the door step if you're lucky."
Bruce rolled his eyes. His head was pounding and he really didn't have the energy to argue.
"Whatever, clown." He muttered and straightened up.
"You're going to need to give me a little help here, bats." The Joker said, holding out an arm. Bruce gripped it and hauled him up. The Joker staggered and Bruce took hold of him around his waist to allow him to rest all his weight on him.
The Joker gave a contented sigh.
"Oh Brucey, what a gentleman!" He giggled and slipping his arms around Bruce's shoulders for support.
Bruce gave a little grimace.
"Don't get too comfortable, Joker. You're house or whatever squat your staying in better not be too far away. I don't think it'd look every good me going back to fetch my car with you hobbling next to me."
The Joker giggled.
"Ashamed of me bats? Or are you just used to a blonde bimbo on your arm." He ran a hand through his matted hair. "I'm afraid you're a little too late to see my blonde locks, you're going to have to settle for green."
Bruce ignored him, and for the second time that night, pulled The Joker with him down the street, The Joker's giggles echoing around them.
A/N: The club scene seemed to extend itself a bit. I only meant for that section to be short but it got away from me slightly. I intended more things to happen in this chapter but as it is its pushing it so I cut it short at a somewhat random place but it sets up the next chapter rather nicely. Again, reviews and comments most welcome ;)