It was to a pounding headache that Batman woke up to. His body was sore all over, no doubt readying a collection of bruises for him to find when he removed his armor.
His head hung low and probably had been doing so for a while. His neck felt stiff from the uncomfortable posture, so there was no telling how long he had been like this. Wanting to at least rub his temple to soothe his headache, he tried to move his arm and found he was unable to.
That made all sorts of alarms go off inside Batman's head. Making sharp jerks with his arms, the vigilante discovered his arms were tied down to what felt like the back of a chair, most likely a wooden one. Attempts to move his legs proved just as fruitless.
Opening his eyes, Batman allowed his blurry vision to dissipate until he was able to see clearly. Due to his head being tilted, the first thing he could make out was his lap and beyond it the floor. The floor was covered in a dirty carpet, portions of it ripped open revealing wooden slats beneath it. He also had a good view of his legs, which were tied to the front legs of the wooden chair he sat in with rope.
There weren't any armrests, so that confirmed that his arms were also tied to the back of the chair, each arm pressed against the side and bound to it with rope. Vainly he tried to figure out how he got like this, but nothing was coming to mind. Oddly enough, parts of his armor had dried dirt on it, though he wasn't sure how that had gotten—
No wait, he did know. His memory was slowly returning to him and he could remember being assault with globs of grey sludge. Diana too. His head jerked up. Oh Lord, where was Diana?
Turning his head this way and that, he saw no sign of the Amazon in the small room he was in. The walls were in a state of disrepair—or repair depending on your perspective. Pieces of wallpaper were slowly peeling off the sheetrock at places, revealing more wooden surfaces. However, there were other parts of the wall with large gaps in them, due to them being bashed in, or ripped out—regardless, the damage had been done.
On the floor next to the walls were various building supplies: lumber, tools, and the like. Someone had intending on fixing these holes, but never got around to it. There was another chair over by the far wall opposite a door. Other than that, there wasn't much of anything else.
Tugging at his bonds, Batman tried to free himself, but found his arm strength unable to overwhelm his bonds. Since they were wrapped from his hands to his upper arms, that gave the bindings more support to keep him restrained. Stopping his straining, the vigilante tried to figure out what he had on his person to help in his escape. That's when he realized his belt was missing. Searching the room once more, he found the belt lying over the back of the other chair.
Apparently someone had discarded it there, thinking the dark-clad man couldn't find a way to reach it. Far be it from him to prove them wrong.
That was when he heard a jiggling of the doorknob and found himself looking to the door. A moment later and it opened, the Joker walking in and coming to an immediate stop the moment he realized the vigilante was looking right at him.
The green-haired man's eyes blinked as he stared back. Batman was quick to note he had a water basin in his hands, though he wasn't sure for what reason, nefarious or not. Then the Joker's face lit up, though he didn't smile his trademark smile, opting for a tight-lipped grin. "Oh good, you're up," he greeted, beginning to walk to the Dark Knight.
Batman stayed silent as he watched the clown approach him, stopping long enough to place his basin a few feet away on the floor. A glance told him there was only water and a wet washcloth in it, or so he hoped. The Joker began moving again, this time heading to the other chair in the room and dragging it back to place it right in front of the vigilante. Taking a seat, the pale man picked up his basin and set it in his laps, a hand picking the washcloth out of the water. He squeezed the rag to allow excess water to drip from it.
"Now, I must apologize for getting you so out of sorts,' the Joker apologized as he reached his rag up to Batman's face. In response, he jerked his head back, moving it from left to right and back as the clown's hand kept trailing behind. "You stop that right now," the Joker growled lowly. "I'm trying to be nice here." He then sighed as he dropped his arm to his side. "Look, I didn't mean for you to get hit by the rubber cement, alright? Now let me clean you off already!"
So that's what that stuff had been. No wonder Diana hadn't been able to shrug it off. Had it hardened upon contact, she would've been able to break out of it. Due to the viscosity, she would have had to remove it in another way, one she obviously wasn't able to do.
His musings though, allowed the Joker to press his washcloth against his face and began to dab it along his jaw. "Ya see, I had made that contraption with the Wonder Babe and the Fastest Man In Bed in mind. I hadn't thought you'd be hanging around Cheeks until I saw you two practically holding hands. Not that I blame you because she is quite easy on the eyes."
The Joker then growled his approval, something that caused Batman to glare at him in turn. Ignoring the look, the Joker continue his ministrations, cleaning off the vigilante's face until he was satisfied. "There, all better."
Placing the washcloth back into the basin, he then carefully laid it on the ground next to him. For someone as erratic as this madman, he seemed to be doing his best at keeping himself restrained. "Now then, it's time we got down to business," he said.
"And that business would be?" the dark-clad man questioned.
"Oh, nothing too earth-shattering." The Joker just leaned back in his seat, the legs of his chair screeching across the floor as he pushed it back so that he could comfortably cross one leg over the other. "I just want to talk."
Batman stared dumbly at the man, not sure he had heard that right. "You want...to talk."
"Yes, talk. We don't do that anymore and I see it as a moral imperative that we correct that."
This was too surreal. In fact, there was no damn way the past few days had been just so they could sit down—one against their will—to chat. "All of this, all of those people hurt or dead, was all so we could talk?" he growled dangerously.
"Hm? People?" The Joker seemed genuinely confused before his eyes and face lit up with realization. "Oh! Those people! How could I forget? No, they were just collateral damage while I picked off your little super group. I just couldn't pass up a chance to say a few words with you."
"Why? What do you have against the Justice League?" he demanded.
That caused the madman to belt out laughing. "HA HA HA HA HA! Oh, what a ridiculous name! Justice League—sounds like a special needs kiddie baseball league." He wiped a finger beneath one of his eyes, removing a tear from his laughing spat.
But then his face turned serious. "But in all seriousness, I'm quite disappointed in you Bats. Why would someone as great as you want to join up with them? What, are they offering you some fringe benefits? Is Cheeks offering you something on the side while her main squeeze ain't looking? I really must know."
Apparently the Joker didn't approve of his joining with the League. To be honest, he wasn't all that joyful about it either, but in the six months he had been a member, he had slowly begun to accept that they were a necessary evil, one that actually had good intentions and for the most part worked.
Opting to not say a word, Batman waited for the Joker to continue his tirade, something he did not disappoint in. "The silent treatment, eh? That's fine, you don't have to say a thing. Ya see, we're connected in a way that none of your goody-two-shoe friends will ever be. I know you better than you know yourself."
"You don't know a thing about me," the vigilante gruffly retorted.
"Oh, I don't, do I?" The Joker seemed pleased by the response. Uncrossing his legs, he then leaned towards the Dark Knight. "I know that beneath all that armor and angst, you're just a man—just like beneath all the gags and bombs, I'm just a man." Batman snorted his disbelief at those words, but that didn't seem to perturb the clown one bit. "But can you really say that about those heroes? They're veritable Gods with all of those powers!
"So tell me, Bat-man." The green-haired man stressed the second syllable of his name, obviously wanting to drive that part home. "What's a simple guy like you hanging out with Gods that could smite you down anytime, anywhere?"
Again, Batman didn't respond to the goad. "I mean, I just don't get it. After everything you accomplished before they made their own Olympus, you stood hands and shoulders over all of them! Was it Superman's name they cheered when you took on the Iceman? No, that was you! And when those riots broke out, where was Cheeks? Having a Greek Orgy on that island no doubt."
The Joker paused, seeming to consider that mental image. "Later, Little J, later," he then mumbled before continuing, "And when you and I had our tango, where were the others? Living the high life in their own little cities, far from the bombs and laughing gas. I mean, they came to you, the guy without powers, to help them out with that alien invasion. Color me stupid, but shouldn't that be the other way around?"
He then leaned closer to the Dark Knight, to the point his nose was nearly touching the dark-clad man's. "And you know why they came to you? Because you're better than they are."
"And how did you come to that conclusion?" Batman couldn't help but prod him.
"Quite simply, dear Watson! Because you're not one of them and never will be."
It was to a sense of grogginess that Diana awoke. There was a cloud over her mind and she found she couldn't easily shake it off.
Everything was dark around her, so she couldn't see anything. Perhaps her eyes were closed? Attempting to open then, she quickly realized that they were already open.
Then she was blindfolded? No, she couldn't feel any cloth on her face or head. A dark room then? That seemed the most likely of answers since she could not disprove it at the time being. Now she just needed to move and find a light source.
Except, she then became aware, she was already standing. In fact, her whole body felt as if it had been posed. Her left arm was extended out, the hand balled into a fist while her other hand dangled at her side while holding some sort of shaft. Even more alarming was that the Amazon couldn't find it in herself to move. No matter how much she willed her muscled to move, they would not respond.
What in the name of Athena was going on?
The cloud that had been dulling her senses lifted then, her thoughts taking on a sense of clarity. She was standing, frozen in place, in a room with no light. Diana wasn't sure why she was like this, or how she got this way, but for the time being she was stuck here. If physical exertion would not win her her freedom, then she needed to use her mind and think her way out of this.
It was a shame that she couldn't come up with an immediate solution to her quandary.
Perhaps she needed to think back to what she could at least remember. That seemed like a logical starting point. The last thing the Amazonian Princess could remember was being attacked with some very thick goo that she could not remove. She had been covered in it, much like Batman had been—
Diana's mind froze. Oh, Hera, Batman!
He had been with her! Was he here too? Or had something else insidious happened to him? A feeling of anxiety feel over her as her stomach sank. She needed to know if he was okay.
Diana tried to call out to him, but once more discovered that she could not open her mouth to say his name. No matter how hard she tried, her lips would not move. She tried to make a sound regardless, but found that she could not force enough air through her vocal cords to produce anything.
Now that she thought about it, she was somehow breathing, but definitely not as much as she normally did. It was as if her lungs could only inflate just enough for her to get some oxygen without expanding her chest for more.
What had been done to her?
It was without question that something had been done to her, most likely from the evil foe she and the Justice League had been facing these last few days. Batman had warned them all that the Joker was very creative with chemicals, so it stood to reason that he must have come up with some concoction that kept her as still as a statue.
Unfortunately, this state was not good for her, especially if she wished to save not only herself, but the others as well. If only she could see; if only she could speak.
If only she could move.
"Someone took it all away from you once, didn't they, Batman?"
Because of his mask, the Joker could not see the look on the vigilante's face. Though his mouth and jaw were much the same, his eyes were wide, his forehead furrowed at the genuine look of sympathy on the Joker's face. It was as if he were trying to be empathetic and was largely succeeding.
"Someone came around and did something so horrific that you were left an empty shell of yourself, your entire life shattered," the green-haired man continued, not needing any encouragement or prompting. "It was that person that led you to becoming what you are: an all-punching, all-kicking ball of angst.
"And look what you've done!" At this his voice raised in tone, the clown throwing his arms out as if to indicate something much larger than himself. "You turned around a city that was going right down the crapper! As much crap as I've given you for it, it's admirable. You became a King amongst paupers and phony lords. The peasants praised you, the guardsmen accepted you, and the evil barons of crime sunk back into their little hidey-holes.
"But can you say the same about those other heroes? I mean, look at the cities they defended. Metropolis was considered the future of America long before Superman put on his red underwear. Central City had its picket fences and nuclear families when Speedy Red came into the picture. I'd say Detroit comes as close to Gotham as any of them, but that place is as dead as a strip club at high noon, if you know what I mean."
"What are you trying to get at?" Batman questioned. During the Joker's spiel, he had been surprised by the sympathy, blindsided by praise, and now confused when compared to the rest of the Justice League. Strange did not begin to describe what he was feeling.
"What I'm saying is that you're different from them. Not a bad different, but a good different," the Joker explained. "No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want to be, you will never be one of them."
"And why is that?"
A bemused look appeared on the clown's face. "Because you had a bad day. It's what made you what you are. Can you honestly say any of the others had it as rough as you did? I don't think they have and, believe me, I would know."
The expression on his face changed into a more somber one then. "I had a bad day too. I know you'll find it hard to believe, but I had a family once. It wasn't a big one, but it was family nonetheless. We were struggling like any new-age married couple would in today's world, but we were making it.
"And then I lost everything. My wife was...taken from me. I fell into a bad crowd and they used me and used me good. Eventually, everything just came crashing down on my head."
There was a slight change, subtle, yet noticeable, in the Joker's face. "And I had an epiphany."
The green-haired man fell silent then, and despite himself, Batman found he wanted to know just what this man had gone through; what had caused him to become the insane psychopath that he was. Though there was skepticism warning him that this wasn't what it seemed, he still prompted, "What was the epiphany?"
"That everything was a bad joke. Life, work, love, it was all the miserable punchline for a sick universe telling the worst knock-knock joke ever. And I was sick and tired of being the one being laughed at, who was the butt of the joke. I wasn't sure how to do it, to be honest."
Then his pale fit lit up with mirth as his eyes focused right on the vigilante. "And then you showed up. At first I thought you were just some idiot thinking he could change the world and make it a better place. I was so sure you would fail. But then others came out, like the frigid doc, and that fat British guy with the umbrellas. They were trying to change the world, just like you, and I realized that you knew—you knew—that you had figured out what I had, but instead of moping around, you were going to do something about it. You even got others in on the action.
"So I felt that if you could fight as hard as you could, I could do no less. I had to spread my knowledge, share it with everyone, just like you."
Batman's face hardened into a scowl. Anger was welling up within him. Despite how heartfelt the words sounded, all it did was infuriate him to the point all he could say was, "Bull."
A silence fell over the two as they stared each other down. It was several moments before the Joker responded with a chuckle. "Heh, it was worth a shot."
The Dark Knight didn't know whether to be satisfied with the admission, or enraged that the Joker tried to use his emotions against him. The madman had tried to tie them together with a sense of camaraderie from shared emotional anguish, twisting it with his deceit.
If he hadn't been tied down, he fight have tried strangling him.
"You can believe me, or don't, it matters not to me," the Joker replied then. "In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter. No matter how much you deny it, you and I are much more alike than the Underwear Brigade."
Batman's first instinct was the vehemently refute that notion, when something caught his eye. Over the Joker's left shoulder, he spotted movement through one of the gaps in the wall. Darting his eyes to the next hole, he watched carefully for whatever it was to appear again. He was rewarded by something dark passing by again.
Glancing back to the Joker, he forced himself to calm down. If he was going to get out of this predicament alive, he needed to keep his wit about him. The Calvary, so to speak, was here. All he needed to do was keep the Joker's attention right on him so that he didn't realize something was up. It wouldn't take much since the green-haired man loved to talk.
"And how did you come to that conclusion?" he asked.
In response, the Joker reached out and rapped his knuckles against the side of his head. "Hello, have you not been listening to a word I've said?" He then sucked in a breath and blew it out through pursed lips, causing a lock of his hair to flip about. "I suppose I should've known better."
He then leaned in, not as close as before, but enough that the vigilante could smell the other man's breath. "You and I have both had bad days. It has shaped who we are and what we've become. Those heroes, they haven't tasted defeat, much less been at rock bottom. Imagine if they were to have their entire world shattered before their eyes—do you honestly think they would stay the same?"
"They would grieve," Batman rebutted. "They would mourn; that's natural. I have no doubt they would recover."
A smirk appeared on the Joker's face. He then raised a hand and began waving a finger in front of the dark-clad man's face. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Think about it: we're both men. What's the worse that we could do when we're sad and blue? Punch a hole in a wall? Beat our wives with beer bottles? Blow up half a city?"
"Get. To. The. Point," Batman growled through gritted teeth.
"I would if you would let me. Now here it is, so pay attention. We're two Average Joes—well, maybe not average, but the damage we could do is contained at best, pointless at worst." The Joker then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "But with Superman and them? They have powers that make them virtual Gods. If someone killed Ma and Pa Superman, what do you think he'll do? Would he become a killer like me? Or would he try to impose his will like you? Both maybe?"
"Neither," the vigilante shot back.
"Oh, I highly doubt that. Though alien he may be, a higher standard he strives for, he still likes to pretend he's human."
That made the blood in Batman's veins freeze. Was...was it possible the Joker knew about Clark Kent? The reference to Ma and Pa Kent was too much of a coincidence not to be. All of his worry though, came to naught as the Joker said in a upstanding voice, "I stand for Truth, Justice, and the American Way." His voice then returned to his normal tone. "Sheesh, can the guy get any more corny than that?"
The corner of Batman's mouth twitched up as a small smirk appeared on his face. "Jealous?" he baited.
The pale man bit into instantly. "Between wearing long underwear on summer days and this spiffy suit, I'll take my own threads, thank you."
The Dark Knight then leaned forward as far as he could, the smirk still on his face. "You know what I think? I think you really are jealous."
The Joker scoffed. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am. The way I see it, Superman gets all of this attention and is adored by everyone. It the same kind of attention that you want, but in all of your neurotic selfishness, you strive for any and all attention. You dress up in fancy clothes, you murder people without remorse, all so that people will pay you that same attention that he receives without even trying."
"Shut up," he growled.
"Why? Does the truth hurt? It does, doesn't it? You tried to be a good guy and do good things, but no one ever bothered to thank you. So when you started to hurt people, you found people noticed you and you couldn't wait to feel those eyes on you, watching you. So you figured, why be a hero when being a bad guy is so much more easier."
"Oh, you're trying to psychoanalyze me now?"
"I don't have to. I knew what you were the first moment I saw you. There is no way on this Earth that I could ever be the same as you. At the end of the day, people won't be lumping us together, but instead it'll be me and Superman—"
"Don't you dare say it," the Joker interrupted, anger evident in his voice. "You were about to call yourself a hero, weren't you? Well guess what, you aren't! I bet you don't even consider yourself one, not when you're standing with freaks like them!"
"Oh, so they're freaks now?"
"Of course they are! And why you want to put yourself with them is beyond me! Why pretend to be a fake God when you can be so much more? You're the Bat King! The entire world knows this! And if it weren't for those freaks, it would be you they lavish their praise on, you they would adore. Why else do you think I'm doing all this for? For my health? Without them, it'll be just like the old days where you were strong and proud. Can't you see I'm trying to help you?!"
"By what? Destroying their reputations? Killing them in cold blood so I'm the only one left?"
"Yes!" The Joker was screaming shrilly by now, his cool demeanor lost in his fury. "When you stand with them, you look like some silly kid in a Halloween costume! Don't think the other bad guys haven't been saying that about you, because they do. You and I, we can show them just how wrong they are! We can make you into the very thing you became when you left Gotham: Legend."
"I'm no legend."
"Yes, you are!"
"No, I'm not!"
The Joker shot out of his chair, looming over the vigilante, his face twisted with rage, teeth gnashing together. "What is wrong with you?! I'm running out of way to tell you what you should obviously know! You don't belong in some boring little base in boring Rhode Island. You belong in Gotham! With me. Only me."
Batman leaned as close as he could, his nose nearly touching the other man's. "No, I don't. I'm no God—no 'king.' I'm right where I need to be, between you and the innocent people you intend to kill."
A rage-laced growl came from the green-haired man before he backed away, roughly dropping back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest sullenly. "I don't know why I even bother," he spat out venomously. "I do all this work and this is the thanks I get? I swear, the next time I'll—"
That was when he heard it. A familiar whirring sound reached his ears right before he felt the rope around his arms loosen due to them being sliced into by a flying shuriken. Lunging forward, the rope snapped as he yanked his arms free and shot them out in front of him, grabbing a surprised Joker by the lapel of his suit. The force of his lunge knocked the clown backwards, causing his chair to tip over and crash loudly onto the floor, the two men landing right on top of it, Batman on top of the Joker.
Because his chair was still tied to his legs, Batman could feel the furniture's back digging into the back of his legs and butt, but he ignored it as he held himself over the Joker and raised a fist up. With a swing, he slammed his punch right into the madman's face, snapping his head to a side. Raising the fist up again, he repeated beat the green-haired man, sending punch after punch into his face.
"Stop," the Joker gasped out.
Batman punched him again.
"Stop!" he shouted next.
Again, he punched him.
"STOP!"
This time, however, when Batman drove his fist down again, the Joker surprisingly got an arm up and blocked the blow. With amazing speed, he then shot his other hand up, the palm ramming underneath the vigilante's chin and forced his head to snap backwards. Rearing back, he was left dazed as the Joker then shoved him away, causing him to collapse onto the floor.
"I said stop!" the Joker roared as he forced himself onto his knees and angled his body to face the dark-clad man. In one hand, a knife appeared, the pissed madman holding it up high. "And when I say stop, you—"
Suddenly, there was a sharp clash and the pale man yelped in pain, the knife flying from his hand. Immediately, Batman moved an arm down began cutting the rope on his leg with his triangle blades.
"Geez Louise, that's hurts!" Joker exclaimed as he was dancing on his feet, nursing his injured hand. He came to a sudden stop though as he looked at something behind Batman. "Oh. My. God," he breathed out before he scowled at the Dark Knight. "Since when did you get a sidekick, huh?! Why didn't someone tell me?! This isn't fair at all! I don't have one!"
The rope gave way as it was sliced apart. Batman changed arms as he worked on the other leg. "You're going down, Joker," he growled.
"Uh, no, I'm not." With that, the Joker spun around on his feet and darted off to the door, rushing through it and slamming it closed behind him. By then, Batman had freed himself of his bindings and was back on his feet.
However, movement from behind him forced him to make a stop gesture with his hand. Turning his head, Cassan...Batgirl stood there, her lithe body coming to a stop. "I'll pursue him," he told the girl as he pointed at himself. He then pointed to her, "You head him off."
Batgirl straightened out her posture before she gave a sharp nod in response.
Turning away, Batman first moved to where his belt lay, picking it up and wrapping it around his hips, buckling it securely. Satisfied, he then eyed the door before he rushed towards it. One way or another, this all was going to end tonight.
This was a chapter I've been waiting a long time to write. A huge part of it was inspired by the Injustice: Gods Among Us comic series, specifically the scene where Batman is interrogating the Joker following the destruction of Metropolis. There was this one panel were the Joker looked genuinely sympathetic when he spoke of what it took for Batman to do what he does, then compared it to what Superman had just gone through. If there was ever one panel that described that entire series, that was it.
To guest: Manchester 789: Very little BMWW here I'm afraid. Always next chapter though...I think.
