And now, back to our usual Saturday morning schedule…

Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight, or the books mentioned here. I do own this plot.

Chapter Forty-Six: …Batsy?
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It's surprising what sleep and a bowl of warm chicken noodle soup can do. And pain medication.

"This is great soup," I say, nodding at Schiff's pleased expression. "Thanks." I raise my bowl to him.

Schiff beams as he scampers out the door, humming a tuneless melody. He's kind enough to close the door behind him.

"Glad to see you're feeling a bit more…lively," Joker says, his arm still around my shoulder. "I was a liiiittle worried there for a bit."

I raise an eyebrow. "That's shocking. A guy like you doesn't seem to have the ability to worry."

Joker looks at me shrewdly. "…Did you just call me a 'guy'?"

I blink. "Sure. What of it?"

Joker scratches his head and grins. "Didn't think you had the ability for slang."

I shake my head and smile at my bowl of soup. "Near-death experiences can do that to you."

"We're gonna need to change your bandages soon, y'know. I think you'll be able to take a bath soon."

"A bath would be great," I say, running a hand through my hair. I feel like a grease ball.

"You'll probably, ah, need my help getting into the tub. Just to warn you." Joker leans his chin on my shoulder, his fingers drumming against my other shoulder. "Feelin' any better?"

"Better than I was."

Joker had even been "kind" enough to have a bedpan for me to use. It had been a bit difficult at first, but I had managed. It gave Joker a bit of a laugh, at any rate.

"Good, good." Joker climbs off the bed and walks toward the First Aid kit nearby. "Bandage time!"

"Great." I help him get the covers off me, eying the bandages for the first time. "They did a good job."

"They, ah, had no other choice." Joker chuckles. "This might be a bit…uncomfortable, just to give you a heads-up."

"Ah." I nearly jump as he starts unraveling the gauze, forcing me to lift my legs. "Ah. You weren't kidding."

"Figured you wouldn't want to, ah, be unprepared. Feeling okay, anyway?" Joker tosses the gauze into the trashcan, one long tendril poking out of the lid like a yellow tentacle.

"I'll live." I can't help but wince as he begins picking at the sticky bandage on my right thigh. "How long have I been out, by the way?"

"Two days or so. Hold still, will you? It's not like I'm tickling you or anything…" Joker rolls his eyes at me and slowly pulls the bandage away. "I think we're going to have to get you out of bed sometime soon. Your back must be killing you."

"It would be great to get up," I say, watching coolly as Joker applies a new bandage to my quickly-healing scar. The skin is yellow from the disinfectant the doctors must have placed on me, and the wound is still new and black. "I feel weak like this…"

"It won't take you long 'till you're nice and healthy again, no worries!" Joker finishes bandaging me up, grinning at me. "Nurse J's…guarantee."

"Good." I close my eyes and sigh. "Speaking of guarantees…what happened to the guy who tried to call the GCPD?"

Joker scratches his head. He actually looks slightly ashamed as he looks off to the side. "Y'know…I've done better. I mean, there's only so much you can do with a telephone cord and a pudding cup…"

I snort. "I see. Well, that's one more crime Gordon will have your head for."

Joker grins. "What about you?"

"I'm considering it." I stretch carefully. "…The bath?"

Joker shrugs. "Maybe. We'll have to see about that." He carefully climbs back onto the bed and beside me, where he was before. "Hey…you don't, ah, mind that the boys and I did your shopping for you, do you?"

"What?" I open my eyes again. He can't mean what I think he means…

"Figured you'd want something to keep you busy for a few days…" And like magic, Joker pulls a beautiful, leather-bound copy of Peter Pan out of the pocket of his nurse uniform. "…So when I found that list in your pocket when I, ah, picked you up, I decided I'd be charitable for once…though finding The Odyssey was waaaaay more difficult than it should've been."

I stare at the forest-green cover, reaching out to touch it. Joker hands it to me, and I carefully crack open the book, flipping the golden pages to the first chapter. I look at him, feeling suspicious for some reason.

"There's more, too," Joker says with a grin. "Everything on your list, we got."

"Through legal means, I hope," I say, leveling him a warning look.

Joker laughs. "Oh, c'mon, Batsy, what does it matter how I, ah, acquired the stuff? Just…use 'em."

I look back at the ornate "Chapter One" in front of me. "Want me to read to you?"

Joker shrugs. "Could be fun."

"I'm kidding, of course."

I turn my attention to the book and find myself in a smoky London, which is soon not to be the setting at all, but Neverland. It doesn't take long before I finish the first chapter and put it aside for now.

"So." Joker brings my attention back to him. "Tired yet?"

"I want to see if I can stay up awhile longer."

"I've got a chess board…or we could play Poker…or we could talk a bit about what your, ah, new look should be. After all, according to the Mob, you've been…bumped off. They've even had a 'funeral' for you…and Al, of course."

"Did you go?"

Joker snorts. "Nah. I was having too much fun playing doctor here. Besides, I…liked Al. He was funny. I wanna keep him alive in my head."

"I see." I look down at my hands and try to focus. "…I'd like to get up now."

"Lemme, ah, get your carriage," Joker says with a grin, climbing up and walking over to a pair of crutches by the door. "You've used these before, right?"

"I think so." I slide my legs over to the edge of the bed and, with Joker's help, manage to gingerly get up.

"How d'you feel now, hmmm?" Joker asks, as I slowly take a step. "Go lightly."

I wobble as my vision swims for a moment. "Hold on—there are two of you. I'm sure that's not supposed to happen."

Joker chuckles. "That would be a treat, wouldn't it?" He steadies me, his hand on my back. "Whoa, there, slow down—we've got aaaaaaall the time in the world."

"Oh, good," I say, not really paying attention.

"Here, lets—lets get you a chair or something…" Joker directs me toward the purple inflatable chair he was using before, helping me sit down.

I close my eyes. "You know, you're being very helpful—and I'm sure you aren't just doing this to be charitable."

"What, I can't, ah, be sugar n' spice sometimes?" Joker asks, perching on the armrest. "Besides, if I wanted you dead…you would be by now." He sighs. "Do we really have to go through this every single time? Or have you, ah, been whalloped too many times on your pretty head?"

I roll my eyes. "I see you as more of a 'salt and vinegar' sort of person." I stretch my legs carefully, making sure the blood is circulating.

"Funny, I sound…delicious." Joker's scars stretch as he smirks. "Good enough to eat, in fact."

"No double entendres right now. I'm not—not in the mood."

"Oh, good. It'd be a bit…tricky to deal with, what with your being really doped up on pain meds and not being, ah, mobile enough right now. I mean, there's painand then there's pain, y'know?"

I rub my temples and decide to get off the subject. "What does Gordon know?"

"Not sure. But he'll have a…hell of a time trying to find us. The boys left a few breadcrumbs for his precious team to follow in the Narrows."

"I see."

Joker yawns and gets up, handing me my crutches. "So. Let's get you back in bed—if you're ready—and whenever you're ready, we'll go over your…wardrobe."

I blink. "Wardrobe?"

Joker grins.