Sorry about the delay. I had to do some serious re-evaluating for this story. But it's all better now so you can enjoy! I tweaked the characterization so it's more believable. The dialogue is different too. Anyway, enjoy! Reviews always appreciated.

Claire Napier

Bruce sat back down in the chair and looked at the floor.

"Anemia?"

"Yes, it's a disease of the blood where-..."

"I know what it is Alfred, but how did he get it? Seems odd. He's been fine for all these years."

"I don't know."

"What do you know?"

Bruce was starting to raise his voice and Alfred knew that wasn't a good sign. He held the papers out to Bruce and started to explain.

"All I know is that his blood is unusual. They don't know if it's connected to cancer or if it just stops at anemia."

Bruce stopped flipping through the reports and looked at Alfred.

"Cancer."

"Yes."

"But, anemia isn't that serious. If I remember correctly, it isn't fatal. Is this really something we need to be concerned about?"

"Sir, I'm not sure that's the point. If my hunch is correct, this is what he was most likely trying to tell you that night at the aquarium. But, there's got to be something more to it. He wouldn't come to you about this if it didn't directly affect the two of you. Oh, and sir, if you don't mind me asking, why do you care so much about his well-being?"

"I don't care. I never have and I don't plan on starting now." Bruce said sternly, shoving the papers back at Alfred.

Bruce stood up and walked upstairs. Alfred bent down to pick up the papers, worried that he had done something he shouldn't have. Had Bruce really needed to know? Of course he did. Someone fairly important to his life was sick, it was important that Bruce knew. But Alfred still couldn't help feeling strangely about it.

.C.N.

Harley Quinn used to be a normal girl. Cute little thing with blond hair and glasses. She had a respectable job working at Arkham Asylum helping with the patients and everyone liked her. Her world was perfectly stable; until the Joker sauntered nonchalantly into her life.

It hadn't been planned for either of them, but it had worked to the Joker's advantage. One day when Harley was psychoanalyzing the Joker, she had begun to look at her patient in a different light. The stories he told were nothing short of astonishing. Sometimes funny, other times sad. But either way, she had enjoyed them. It brought them closer. And he told the best jokes! What a kidder he was. She began to see him more and more, each session longer than the last. Then, one day she snapped and helped him escape from Arkham.

The rest, as they say, is history.

He had her wrapped tightly in his web and he never intended to let her go. The Joker may have been using her all this time, but she didn't care. A truer love than hers, there was none. So one can imagine her dismay when she came to terms with the fact that her love hadn't been home for far too long.

"Oooh!"

Harley stomped around the living room, worrying her heart out. The Joker hadn't checked in for a very long time and she was mess because of it. She was frantic, wanting to know where he was and why he hadn't come home. At first it wasn't a big thing. She knew it involved Batman, so it probably was going to be awhile.

But weeks?

Chewing on her thumbnail, she walked to the door. Suddenly she stopped. Where would she go? She had no idea where he was and she was lost without him. Harley didn't even know where she would start.

Shaking her head, she walked over to a window and pushed the curtain aside. It was bright outside, so definitely not the best time to start a search and rescue. Inky darkness was the best for her kind of searching anyway.

As soon as the sun went down she would be out the door, no doubt about it. She was going to find her puddin' if it was the last thing she ever did.

.C.N.

Meanwhile, Bruce leaned against his bed, fighting with his brain. He didn't care. But, then he did. Bruce shouldn't. Batman should. Or was it the other way around? His brain was thinking in utter blacks and whites and he couldn't stand it. One decision had to be made.

Kick him out? Let him stay?

He was forcing himself to tug in two separate directions and soon it was going to tear him apart.

There were other things he had to worry about. Though it seemed like it, his world didn't revolve around the Joker. He wasn't Gotham's only villain and it looked like Bruce had forgotten that in the last few days. That time was over now. Bruce wasn't going to feed into the mind games anymore.

He was going to confront the Joker and he was going to be out of his house by the end of the day.

The stairs seemed to go on forever as he walked quickly down. The only thing on his mind was how to get the Joker out as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Nothing else mattered.

Alfred watched as Bruce jumped the last two steps and ran to the Batcave door.

"In a hurry sir?" Alfred asked as Bruce's hand met the door handle.

"I've got to get him out of here. He's ruining me." Bruce didn't look up.

Alfred didn't say anything, but he was almost one hundred percent positive that he would be doing damage control in the lab later.

A frustrated growl escaped Bruce's mouth as he went to open the door.

"Batsuit!" Alfred yelled quickly.

Letting go of the handle, Bruce snapped his fingers and put on the suit.

"You're getting quick at that, sir."

A smirk appeared on his face before he went into the Batcave. He shut the door behind him and looked around for his now unwelcome house guest. The Joker was sitting on the ground humming to himself.

"Come to evict me?" The Joker turned his head to look at Batman, "Even after all of the touching warm and fuzzy moments we've had?"

"I'm tired of this." Batman said.

The Joker jumped up and walked up to him. A troubled look appeared on his face as he brushed some dust off of Batman's shoulder.

"There! I was tired of that too."

"Stop. It's time for you to go. Things need to go back to normal."

"Normal. Is there such a thing with us? You know it's never been anything close to normal! We're just psychos. Well I guess you'd have to be to dress up like a flying rat every night..."

Batman stood there and listened to the Joker talk. It wasn't often that they were in a situation like this where one of them wasn't tied up or in the back of a police car. In fact, this was the perfect opportunity to bring up a subject that was weighing heavily on Batman's mind.

"About the anemia."

All talk stopped immediately. The Joker smiled and looked directly at Batman.

"Clever. I knew taking x-rays didn't involve taking blood samples. What a sneaky, sneaky butler..."

"How did you get it?"

The Joker laughed.

"Getting right to the point are we? Well, as I'm sure you know, I've been through a lot of less than perfect situations in my lifetime. Chemical baths, fights with you every other day, other people who have issues that take it out on my body, the list goes on and on. But how I got the anemia? In this case, it's from severe blood loss. I hear that can definitely screw you over in the blood disease area."

The Joker left no room for comment and continued on.

"You see, I can do research too. I had to guess about the cause, but it's not like I had to call in Sherlock Holmes for help. What else would it have been from? Anyway, I guess you've figured it all out then. That was why I was at the aquarium after all. I was going to tell you all about it, but you will have to settle for the abridged version. Oh, and don't fret my dear, it won't get in the way of us."

Laughter echoed through the Batcave. Batman was developing a growing disgust for laughter.

"Anemia isn't fatal. You can get treatment."

"Medicine isn't my thing, Bats."

Silence came from Batman's side of the room.

"What do you suggest I do then? I can't go to the hospital. I can't see a doctor. If I went in there, the first person that saw me would call the police and I'd be finished. We'd be done."

"We?" Batman asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There would be no more 'you and me', Batsy. I would be kept in Arkham forever because of this. More medicine, closer watch. Not that anyone there would care that I kicked the bucket; they would only keep me alive for legal reasons. Sure, I'd get out like always, but what about when I run out of meds? Then what do I do? Go back, expect to just get my medication, and walk right back through the gates? It's a vicious circle, Batman, and I can't get out."

"I don't care about you, but I will not let you die if there is something I can do to prevent it. I don't want your blood on my hands."

"Ouch. You don't care, darling? Really? Oh what will I do...does that mean I don't get a goodbye kiss?"

Batman leaned down close to the Joker's face. The Joker was speechless for once. He didn't think that one time he would actually get what he asked for.

Turns out it wasn't that time.

Batman quickly blindfolded the Joker and let him to the Batmobile. The Joker felt himself get shoved into the seat, followed by the sound of rejection.

"No." Then the door was slammed.

.C.N.

The ride there was silent except for the rain pattering against the windows. Batman looked around the dark city for a place to leave the sad clown sitting next to him. He was surprised that the Joker hadn't said a word since they left. It would've worried him if he wasn't so bent on getting him out of his car.

Rain splashed up off of the streets as he sped down, passing alleyways and houses. Batman felt out of place driving down these streets, despite this being his city. It looked different tonight. Shadows splayed themselves against the sides of buildings and crept into deserted alleyways. Ghosts crawled out of trash cans and drains, hoping to find something to breathe life back into their pale skins. A perfect place to leave a clown.

The Batmobile screeched to a stop, splashing a brick wall nearest it.

"Out."

The Joker breathed in sharply and listened to the harsh rain outside. Surely he wouldn't leave him there.

Batman leaned over the Joker and opened the door. Cold air and water sprayed up into the car, sending chills across his body.

"Get out."

The Joker could hear an anger in his voice that told him Batman wasn't kidding. So he got out. There was nothing left to hold onto.

Wind slapped him hard in the face as he took a few steps away. He heard the door shut and felt the heat of the tires on his cold skin. The engine revved a few times as warning, then Batman was off. For some reason, the Joker stood in the middle of the street until he could no longer hear the roar of the engine. He let the rain pound against him until it was finally silent.

Suddenly his legs could no longer hold him up, and he let himself crumple to the ground. Water flooded into his mouth as his cheek connected with the black pavement. Every rain drop seemed to be another nail into his body. Of all the things that had happened to him in his life, this hurt more than anything else.

He couldn't breathe, his body ached, his eyes felt tired. It felt as though the sound of the engine had stolen his soul, his warmth...his smile.

Blindfold still tied on, the Joker dragged his body across the street until he felt his ribs hit the sidewalk. He draped his drenched body over the sidewalk, waiting for nothing. Shivers wracked his body as he lay there. He wasn't sure where to go from there. Would it be strange with Batman now? He desperately hoped not. Crime had no punch line without Batman.

After a few minutes of laying against the sidewalk, he stood and took a few uncertain steps forward.

Pulling off the blindfold, he backed into an alley. It didn't offer any more shelter from the rain than the street had, but it was darker. The darkness felt more comforting to him than the hard streetlights that flickered.

He blinked his eyes a few times and looked up. The Batsignal flashed unwavering in the sky, offering some hope to people despite the rain. The Joker leaned against the brick wall and slid to the ground, smiling.

The weakness he had been experiencing was coming back again. Sometimes it was so bad that he could barely keep his eyes open. But at that moment, he didn't care. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. This experience had changed him and he had done absolutely nothing to stop it. What had he let himself turn into?

He let out a weak laugh before finally fainting.

.C.N.

Harley drove around anxiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Joker. She was getting worried. He hadn't wanted her to find out, but she knew about the anemia. She knew that he couldn't handle cold and he fainted when he was stressed or upset. The rain only heightened her fear.

What if he was lying on the street somewhere unconscious or worse? She squirmed a little in her seat and drove faster. But as she was beginning to lose hope, she sped around another corner. Something green, purple, and completely unmoving was lying in a flooded alleyway. The car skidded to a stop and Harley leapt out.

"Mistah J?!"

She ran up to him and lifted him off the ground. He was out cold and barely breathing. Grabbing him under the arms, she began to drag him slowly across the pavement.

"Don't worry sugar," She said between tugs, "I got ya. It's gonna be okay..."

Cold rain drops fell harder than before, soaking her all the way to the bone. She was tired of rain. It always rained in Gotham.

Giving one last tug, she pulled him into the backseat of the car and quickly hopped into the front. She would take him home and hopefully he would forget about this Batman business. This wasn't the first time he had been left out in the cold because of that unfeeling bat. Harley scowled at the windshield.

"Forget about him puddin'. He may be gone, but I'm here."

A tear rolled slowly down the Joker's white cheek. That's what he was afraid of.

Things are starting to get serious now...

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