AN: I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. Real life and pure laziness have been taking their toll.
Disclaimer: If you believe really hard that they are mine then the Joker will come to your house and laugh at you.
Bruce had been strapped down for three days now. It wasn't that Alfred and the Joker wanted to keep him strapped to the table, it was just that he refused to be let up until Alfred agreed to vacate the premises.
The butler had refused to do so of course, he was adamant that he would see his young Master better if it was a last thing he did. And considering the threats Bruce yelled out anytime he was even mildly vexed, that could be anytime.
The Joker might have weighed in on all of this, but he was busy at the large super-computer dissecting the chemical components in the blood sample he had managed to collect. He had received a black eye for his efforts when Bruce had unexpectedly broken one of his restraints.
He had narrowed down the chemical sequences, but had no idea what else Mr. Scary have dosed his Batsy with. If he got this wrong he could end up killing his one and only Bat, and that just wouldn't do!
Making a decision, the mad clown strolled over to the bickering pair- Alfred was trying to feed his Master lunch and Bruce was demanding that he either back away or remove his own head. Bruce had become more and more confused and hostile every hour since the initial snap when he had attacked Alfred.
If it wasn't so pathetic he could just laugh, thought the Joker. Oh well, I can just laugh anyway!
Breaking through the argument that was going nowhere, the clown stated his intentions.
"I'm going to go find Scary and grab his notes. Alfred I'd prefer it if you were out of the house while I'm gone. And as for you..." He leveled his best glare at the strapped down man.
"Stay put!" Giggling like mad, the clown grabbed the butler and headed out; leaving his poor mad Brucey-poo all alone. Breaking into his most insane cackles, the Joker set himself to his task.
Once on the streets- Alfred had finally agreed to go to the market until the Joker called to let him know it was safe to return- it didn't take long to track down the former doctor.
Creeping along corridors, slitting the throats of those who tread to close to him- the Joker was having a blast. If this was how Batsy always felt when patrolling then maybe he should take up crime fighting as well!
Trying to suppress his hysterics at the thought of him working for the greater good, he finally found scaryface. Sneaking up on his prey, the Joker placed a hand on a bony shoulder- and got a face full of Fear Venom! Coughing and sneezing a bit the Clown Prince glared at the, so-called, Master of Fear.
"Come on Craney, you know that stuff doesn't work on me."
"What do you want Joker, I'm busy."
"Ahh, is that anyway to talk to an old cellmate? I just came to talk, after all." Giving his best hurt puppy dog eyes he only received an exasperated sigh.
"So talk." Turning back to his chemistry set-up, Crane didn't take anymore note of the clown in his lair.
The man was always showing up out of the blue, stealing supplies and killing perfectly good test subje-uh... henchmen. He hoped the clown would just grab whatever he was after and leave- his presence was creepy and his humor revolting.
Finally looking up from his microscope at the continued silence of the usually talkative clown, he noted that the Joker seemed to be absorbed in one of his older journals.
Grabbing his precious research from the destructive force of nature in his lab, Crane glared at the grinning clown.
"I was reading that Scary, it's rude to grab a book out of a person's hand when their reading it. Didn't your mother teach you better than that!" Ignoring the tantrum playing out before him, Scarecrow waited to get a word in edgewise. Once it seemed that the clown was winding down he spoke up.
"I have some very sensitive experiments running right now. Get to the point of your visit. You came to talk? So talk. Then leave. Unlike you some of us need to put effort into our schemes." Giving a sad pout, the Joker got to the point.
"That compound you were working on several months ago, the one to cause psychotic breaks and release a persons repressed desires. What was in it?" No response was forthcoming for several minutes, and then a look of unholy glee lit up the usually stoic face.
"Batman." He whispered, and caused the Joker to tense.
"What about the flying rodent?" Crane began to laugh.
"Joker, the only person you've ever cared about is your precious Bats. You've even kept the rest of us from killing him just so you can spend more time getting beat-up by him- which is an unhealthy relationship if I ever saw one. I sprayed him with the new stuff months ago, and now your here asking about it..." His grin grew wider if that was possible.
"He's the one behind the recent murders, isn't he? And now you want to save your precious Bat from his own unleashed mind?!" As the thin ex-doctor began to shake with his laughter the Joker was just growing more calm.
"Craney my boy, you are just too smart for your own good."
Emerging from the burning wreckage of the once hideout, the Joker hefted his large sack of journals. He would have some reading to do tonight.
Looking up he thought that it was just too bad that the near constant rain of Gotham was going to wash all those lovely chemicals out of the atmosphere before they had a chance to do more than slight harm.(In Joker's reasoning 'slight harm' is defined by a few dozen deaths and mass panic.)
With a giggle and a skip, the clown headed back to collect the butler and return home. He couldn't wait to see Batsy's face when he told him about tonight's events!
JOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKERJOKER
Bruce felt exhausted, he had been fighting the cruel urges coursing through him for days now and just wanted to sleep. Yet every time he closed his eyes he remembered one of his victims.
He remembered how he had chosen them. How he had lured them in. How he felt when slicing into their bodies and ridding his city of their filth forever. And worst of all, he remembered how much he had enjoyed every moment of every murder.
He had seen death in all its forms over the years, but had never been the cause of it. Until now. Now he was soaked in blood just as much as the psycho clown who was helping him.
A small part of Bruce- the part that was still sane and wholly Batman- just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. A much bigger part- the part unleashed by Scarecrow and fed on blood these past months- wanted to climb off this table and skin alive all those who stopped him from cleansing his city the right way.
He had to hope that his trust wasn't misplaced in the Joker, and that the mad man would continue to help rather than find amusement in unleashing him on Gotham in his new blood thirsty state.
A cough made the vigilante open his eyes to see the Joker standing above him. He looked slightly singed around the edges and had a look in his eyes that Bruce only ever saw after the clown had killed- and killed a lot!
Normally that look made him want to bash the mad man's face in, but now he had the urge to cuddle close and ask for details. Trying to hide his discomfort at this newest twist of his mind, Bruce turned his attention to the equally singed bag his clown carried.(The! The clown! Not his! The!)
"I saw the late Dr. Crane, he's letting me borrow his notes." Bruce could feel an inappropriate laugh trying to make itself known.
"He said there was no rush to return them as he would be dead to the world for a little while. Wasn't that nice of him!" As the Joker began to laugh so did Bruce, which stopped the clown's laughter dead.
With tears rolling down his cheeks, and lungs and sides screaming from the force of his laughter; Bruce could feel himself beginning to black out from not enough oxygen reaching his lungs.
As he lost consciousness he thought he might have said something, but he couldn't be sure. If it was important he was sure someone would tell him about it.
The Joker stood stunned, looking down at the now unconscious man in front of him. He was even smirking in his sleep! He had not expected that reaction at all when making his jokes!
Clutching to his chest the journals that would- hopefully- allow his Batsy to get back to normal, the clown moved to start reading. A laughing Bat- though sexy in a whole different way from his usual brooding Bat- was just wrong.
Trying not to think on the words that had been spoken before the man had passed out- they had after all been coerced by chemicals and not spoken sincerely- the Joker powered up the computer and began his nights work.
Alfred made a quiet retreat from the Batcave. His Master was sleeping, and he didn't want to disturb the concentrating Joker in the middle of his researches.
Reaching the relative sanity of his kitchen he made himself some soothing tea. He had gone down to see if there was anything he could do for either man only to catch the tail end of their conversation and his Master's hysterics.
But what had really been shocking had been those four little words spoken before his Master had passed out. He knew his Master had always been obsessed with the Joker, and had a soft spot for the clown that he would never admit too, but to say: I love you Joker!
Even knowing it was caused by a chemically induced psychosis it had been shocking. He just hoped the Joker would find a cure soon, he hated to see his young ward in such a state.