Moonstruck: Chapter 3
Alright, so this is the 3rd chapter now and I'm actually updating on a regular basis now! Yay, so you guys don't have to wait months or years for the next update. Please tell me what you guys think of this story, I love it and can't wait to finish it.
By the way, the next chapters will be longer. I just couldn't think of any fillers XD
Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight or Batman Begins, if I did there would be a lot more interaction between Batsy and a certain Joker… I kind of own 'Ada'.
-Ididntdoit07
Gotham General Hospital
Thursday, September 25 12:39PM
Commissioner Gordon had greeted Bruce Wayne in the parking garage of the new Gotham General Hospital. Due to the Joker's previous antics including blowing up said hospital, Wayne had lent the government one million dollars in order to rebuild the place. The name was kept and opened only weeks ago to the general public—a more accommodating location than the nearest infirmary—off of the island.
"Wayne! It's good to see you!" Gordon greeted with his arms held out as if to present the billionaire to the whole parking lot. He looked weathered and tired, but content nonetheless. Bruce smiled in response and patted the Commissioner's shoulder instead of his usual handshake.
"It's good to see you as well, Gordon. It's been a while."
Gordon took a step back, leading the two men towards the exit. "That is has, Bruce." He turned,
"Gordon, do you mind telling me why we are not at the MCU?"
The older man ignored the question as if nothing had been said, not even returning eye contact.
Wayne and Alfred followed the Commissioner into the stairwell leading out of the garage. The billionaire could hear shouting, and sirens at the top of the stairs. Bruce figured they were presumably paparazzi and news teams, most likely trying to attain information regarding the whereabouts of the newly captured Clown Prince.
James Gordon paused as he began to march up the steps.
"Perhaps it's best for Batman to take a less conspicuous entry."
---
"Commissioner, care to translate?"
"Hmm?"
"You have failed to answer my question as to why we are here."
Gordon smiled as he scanned his card to enter through a security door on the remote basement floor. He pushed it open with the aid of his name as a password, holding it open for the billionaire and butler. Once inside, he secured the door shut and began walking through the newly furbished hospital hallways inhaling the sweet scent of new paint.
He looked down at his watch out of casual habit; the time did not matter to him, and turned back to Bruce as he met the piercing, impatient gaze. He wanted the answer he has been begging for the past few minutes.
"GCPD followed the Joker's trails after the alley incident last night. His men betrayed him and ran for it."
He stopped midsentence to let out a little chuckle. "Nobel of them, I know. We cut the head off of the snake, and the rest--"
"Are powerless." Bruce finished.
Gordon stared at him, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "…Surrender."
Bruce nodded, trailing up a new set of stairs into the main gallery of the hospital.
"The Joker was cornered in what seemed to be his crash pad, all of his goons scattered the place. Completely deserted. He… he threatened to bomb the building, with himself and our squads inside. We had no choice but to open fire. The next moments were a blur."
Bruce looked around uncomfortably, and recognized the uncertainty in the Commissioner's voice.
He conceived the fact that they arrived at their final destination. Security was heavy; it seemed as if half of Gotham Police Department presided in small hallways of the infirmary. Commissioner Gordon separated from Wayne and Pennyworth.
"Excuse me… Everybody could we clear out, give us some room please?"
Bruce Wayne took in the surroundings—The blinds to a rather large patient care unit were closed and had two body guards, carrying Beretta 9mm pistols for safety. Shadows reflected off of the blinds of more bluecoats patrolling the room.
The Joker is here…
"Alfred."
"Sir?"
Bruce ambled over to his old guardian and rustled in his coat pockets for his wallet. "You wouldn't mind running across the street and fetching me some cream cheese coffeecake, would you?" He snuck a crisp twenty into the butler's white gloved hands.
He earned a gentle, smile from Alfred. He got the hint. "No, sir I wouldn't mind."
"Buy yourself some nice castella cake, too. I will join you in an hour."
They exchanged the same genuine smile of long-time friends and parted their separate ways.
He swapped his attention back over to Jim Gordon, who had successfully cleared the area of cameras and security, save for the two bodyguards outside of the room. The situation was that out of a comic book, people safely guarding a treasure or something very precious to the world. In this case, it was the life of a criminal mastermind.
Mayor Anthony Garcia appeared behind Gordon, having been told some fib to excuse Wayne's presence.
He shone his bright grin, offering a handshake. "Bruce Wayne, it's very nice to see you. Commissioner Gordon told me about your interest in keeping the city clean of violence."
Bruce looked to the officer, who gave him a look that read play along.
"Y-yes. Having provided Gotham with new accommodations, I would also like to aid in the eradication of Gotham's criminal stance."
"Well sir. I appreciate your interest, but are you sure you are willing to--"
Garcia was interrupted by Commissioner Gordon, "…So what do we have here?" He asked to a nurse on his left, holding a clipboard of the patient's injuries and medical files. She was a bright redhead with a bouncy, shoulder-length do, covering most of the wrinkles wreaking havoc over her body.
Bruce read her nametag: Ada.
Somehow, it seemed very familiar…
He looked to the dark haired mayor, and they whispered to each other, barely audible to the human ear.
We will talk about this later.
Ada looked to the men for permission to continue and read off the charts:
"Patient #4479 entered early this morning at 4:24AM, brought in unconscious with multiple lacerations to the arms, legs, and abdomen and head. Mild concussion, three bullet wounds, two gashes on the lateral sides of the mouth, hematomas to the back and right leg. He is lucky to be alive."
Sure.
Bruce Wayne thought in his head. If this really is the Joker, he deserves what has happened to him.
"May we?"
Gordon placed a hand on the doorknob, asking permission to enter the room. The redhead turned to the Mayor, and then looked to Bruce closing her clipboard. She nodded, earning a 'thank you' smile from the Commissioner and they entered.
There we was, lying in the new white bed, sitting slightly upright to keep the blood from rushing to his heart. The first thing that Bruce Wayne noticed was that he was still unconscious, and the second thing he noticed… were the damages. He strode in, looking around uncomfortably as he then hovered over the sleeping patient.
The nurses had to cut his vest and shirt off, leaving them in a bag by the door. The clown was in a white gown, which courteously hid the EKG wires over his body. But the clown was gone from his appearance: the only indication that the sleeping patient was the Clown Prince was the dark leftover makeup from under his eyes and the greasy green hair.
There was a tattoo on his bicep peeking out of the gown, of a dragonfly, Bruce noted, and another on his wrist that read: KAOS.
He frowned. Figures he would have 'kaos' written on him somewhere.
There was a long, old scar covering the left half of his body, reaching from his collar down to the hidden area of his clothing.
And then Bruce examined the injuries.
Oxygen tubes ran up his nose as well as a larger, rippled tube between his lips…where the scars he had always bragged about were bandaged over, with a little orange stain of new blood on the soft gauze. Medical tape covered stitches across his forehead, and saw the tan skin beneath the war paint.
Bruce Wayne stared at the sight before his eyes, knowing for a fact that it was the first time he had ever seen the Joker like this. He seemed…calm, and at peace. His face was tan and wrinkle free without a hint of stubble on his chin.
I almost expected him to be older… he couldn't be older than me.
"He was also shot in the chest. Luckily for him, it didn't pierce any vital organs. He's been out since they captured him, but to be safe we have him on a low sedative."
The Joker was out cold, like a corpse almost and it even looked like the man had been dead for several hours. The GPD hadn't killed him, and Bruce figured death was probably a more realistic punishment than life in Arkham. He saw the IV shoved into a bruised vein on the Joker's hand; he was receiving blood (B-), and fluids to keep him hydrated.
"None of his injuries are vital." Gordon narrated. "The clown will wake soon and when he does, he'll be well on his way to Arkham."
Bruce sighed and forgot his attention to the sleeping menace. "The Joker escaped from Arkham before, what makes you think he won't do it again?"
It was a good point.
"Mr. Wayne, are you suggesting death?"
Bruce backed off and broke the eye contact. "Isn't that what he deserves? He's a cop killer, a lethal danger to Gotham, or anywhere that he may exploit. He doesn't merit the very oxygen feeding into his lungs."
He found himself staring at the EKG monitor, showing the man's heart-rate, blood pressure, and vital signs. A little under the normal rate, but he was alive: unfortunately.
Gordon's expression softened a little. "No… I suppose not." His voice was neither against the idea nor on the billionaire's side. The Commissioner was adamant on keeping the city threat-free, however believed that even the hannibals did not deserve capital punishment.
Garcia smiled at the two men in the room and thanked the security.
"Gordon, go home: the clown will be here in the morning. I know you need some rest."
Bruce agreed and the men left the patient, guarded by heavy security. He and the mayor exchanged looks, and walked out to have their talk.
---
"I-I'm sorry sir, would you care to explain that to me again? How are you going to keep your and Batman's lives separate?"
Alfred asked, looking up from his warm cappuccino inside the elegant coffee shop, unsure of what his master had told him. He knew that Bruce was a hard one to argue with, but how was the man going to juggle his life as a crime fighting billionaire and a masked vigilante?
Bruce let out an exasperated sigh. "I said I'm going to donate to the GPD to help decrease Gotham's crime rate."
"And just how are you going about that, sir?"
"I'm going to hold a meeting with the mob."
Alfred sat back in his chair, avoiding all eye contact with the crazy billionaire. His eyes wandered to the painting behind the man's neatly groomed head, trying to find something else to talk about when he knew he would not be able to talk Bruce out of it.
The boy was always stubborn.
He sighed, and looked down into his cup. Oh, Bruce…
"As long as I have nothing to do with it, Master Bruce."
The brunet smiled tightly, "You always have my back, Alfred. Thank you."
Alright, so this chapter was a little smaller because originally this one and the second chapter were merged into one. But I decided to cut them due to the plot going too fast. Anyways, readers, you will see more of the Joker in the next chapter and things get faster!
How will Bruce deal with all this? Keep reading to find out!
I want to know what you guys think, cause I don't know if you like it or not, what I should improve, what you guys want to see, so R&R and tell me!
-Ididntdoit07