a/n: So i wrote this fic for myself after years of lusting over B/J (read: Bale/Ledger), i didn't know there were other twisted shippers out there who dig this shit. i salute you all. Pervs. Anyways, the next chapter will be the last. Just a wrap-up. No more. Thank you, readers.

Update 08/08/12: Yeah. So. If there are any folk out there still reading this shit, rest assured that it will be completed. Eventually. i know it's been a long time, but a while back RL interfered and i lost the groove. Now i'm trying to get it back. Not sure if anybody really gives a goddamn but whatever...i really want to finish this. It will be done.

How do you feel.

Jim crackin' dandy, the Joker mumbled into Wayne's shirt collar. Wayne smiled.

No, really. Do you still feel sick, he asked.

Nope. The Joker shifted around and sat up a little straighter. i feel better. Not great, but better. How about you.

Same, Wayne said. The Joker stretched and looked up at him.

But at least we're not out there in the snow running from the cops, right?

Right. Wayne reached above his head and turned up the dimmer switch, illuminating the white bathroom walls

illuminating the mirror and the Joker's translucent skin. He'd stopped coughing and he wasn't shaking as hard but he could barely keep his eyes open. Wayne kissed the side of the Joker's neck.

Come lie down on the bed. We can watch Animal Cops.

Animal Cops? The Joker sniggered. Jesus H Christ.

Come on, Wayne persisted. i'm tired, you're tired, let's just go lie down.

Okay, the Joker said. Sure. Wayne knelt in front of him and waited while he pulled himself together, he had to get up slowly because the morphine had made him dizzy.

i. Wayne started to speak but he felt his cheeks flush. He could feel the Joker's eyes on him, boring straight into him.

What. The Joker shook his hair out of his face, grinning. What. Wayne bit his lip and looked at the floor.

i could never condone what you do, he said at last. But...i'd give anything to have your grit. i really would. The Joker chuckled softly.

That's sweet. He got up on his knees and cracked his neck. Wayne could hear the vertebrae popping. He put his hands under the Joker's arms and pulled him to his feet where he stood there swaying gently,

like he was standing on a boat.

They went back into the bedroom and the Joker collapsed in the middle of the bed. The television was still on. Wayne sat on the mattress and popped two percocet before he took a Valium from the bottle on his bedside table.

Take this. i don't want to give you any more morphine. He dropped the blue pill into the Joker's outstretched hand. The Joker didn't move. He was lying flat on his back with his hair fanned out across the silk sheets with his shirt half-buttoned. Wayne thought that he looked beautiful. He pressed a bottle of gatorade into the Joker's other hand and tugged at the Joker's sleeve.

Your shirt's really filthy, he said, plucking at the tiny buttons. It's got blood and puke and dirt all over it and it's sticking to you. You should take it off. The Joker ignored him. Just sit up for a second, Wayne pleaded. You have to help me a little.

The Joker flinched as he sat up a few inches. Fuck, he hissed. Wayne pulled the Joker's shirt off and folded it.

Does your stomach hurt still. The Joker nodded and crumpled back into the bed. He looked pale and tired and ill, but Wayne could see that old anger in him, that strength. Wayne wondered exactly what it would take to bring him all the way down. Will you eat something later? Wayne asked him.

Yeah, the Joker whispered. Later. i'll fix up that shrapnel wound on your back too, it needs an ass load of stitches.

Thanks. Just try and get some rest, okay. Wayne pulled the sheet up around the Joker's chest. Is there anything else i can do. The Joker opened his eyes a little and shrugged. He caught Wayne's hand and held it to the bare skin on his chest, over his heart.

You've done enough already. And i told you that i'll be all right, so stop looking at me like that.

i'll look at you any way i want, Wayne said. The Joker smirked. Wayne crawled over to the other side of the mattress, and the Joker moved closer to him without saying anything. His head was on Wayne's shoulder again and Wayne still wanted it there God he wanted it there that same

paint

blood

sweat

gunpowder

clinging to his skin. Wayne could see himself lying in that huge bed alone two days from then, longing for that smell. He saw himself sitting in his office in his car on his couch alone, missing that smell. Wayne propped himself up on his elbow and ran his fingertips down the side of the Joker's neck down the length of his arm. He was covered in bruises and scabs, his hair was matted with dried blood and paint. He was still prison-ripped, finely muscled, he was still a hot mess.

The hottest mess.

When i have to take you back, Wayne started, but the Joker interrupted him.

No, he said. Don't think about that. Don't. Poison what little time we have worrying about tomorrow, or the day after. We have what, like thirty-six hours left?

But

So after that, what happens then will happen then. The Joker took the Valium, unscrewed the cap on the gatorade and drank some of it. We're big boys. We'll deal with it. But this is what's happening now. Just enjoy it, and let everything else go. He took Wayne's hand and squeezed it. Can you do that for me please.

So Wayne made the best decision he'd made in a long time; he decided to shelve his pride and take the Joker's advice for once, he said:

Okay.

For the next few hours they hardly moved. The lay there side by side on the huge bed, resting, keeping warm. Sometimes they talked, but mostly they just watched TV. At some point Wayne realized that he was fighting to keep his eyes open that he was falling asleep that the gauzy pill high had pushed him over the edge, into a half-state between consciousness

and unconsciousness. He felt the room slow down and turn hazy blue saw the Joker lying next to him shirtless watching Animal Planet. Wayne caught himself wondering how they'd reached that point, how they'd gone from hackle-raised blind hatred to amity so quickly. He didn't come up with any answers, and he didn't want them.

He knew that it wouldn't last. It would not last.

Wayne put his arm around the Joker's thin shoulders. If it were up to me i'd never go back, he breathed. i would never. The Joker smiled and kissed him.

That's just the percs talking. He carded his fingers through Wayne's hair before huddling up against him.

It was there in that semiconsciousness that Wayne finally found a little breath of peace, where

the four white walls in his bedroom formed the borders of his plane of perception where

he had no responsibilities and nobody expected anything of him where

he and the Joker could spend their days lying in bed, watching television and talking and fucking themselves stupid.

Wayne had to admit that it felt good to just lie there utterly anesthetized, to be with somebody who cared and who understood. He didn't think about the past or the future, and he did not think about Her. Instead he closed his eyes and imprinted that feeling of heady tranquility in his mind and in his heart so that when he did have to go back to being Batman, he had something to light him from within to

keep him warm on those frigid nights on the ice-slicked streets of Gotham City. Wayne knew that they would have to go back.

It didn't matter.

It didn't matter.

All that mattered to him then was being there, and being with. It felt right to just be there, and be with.

He's over the woods and through the trees
He catches the crooks and kills the thieves and afterwards he laughs
He cracked the plot of the evil man
At the sight of his face the henchmen ran
And afterwards he laughed

And oh what a silly world it is

With no superheroes born to it

He's off the hook and fancy free
He can't see the forest for the trees
At life's allure, he laughs
But soon, he sees the hill
Retreat, retreat, retreat until he passes past the past

And oh what a silly world it is
To be so miserable over something inane as this

He's out for good and off the pills
He can't pay rent, but better still he'd rather have a laugh
But soon he sees the hole
Defeat, defeat, defeat
Your role was not to be the man

And oh what a silly world it is
But still, and against his will he is born to it

And all he'll ever know
the roses and rainbows
And never knowing what he had
Another night another time
And oh, you'll never know the way the old men go
To see it all so uniform, to be wise beyond your years

So smell the rose, you'll see it grow
Make love to those be friend or foe
Get up and go, the rooster crows
And touch your toes, just like so
Your life's a boat - you have to row
Collect and stow the things that glow
And write these things down all in prose
Tomorrow's never there until you are

So a silly world it is...
But still every single day how we are born to it
So what a silly world it is...
But still every day you should know you are not bored of it

"The Ballad of Moose Bruce"- Born Ruffians