My Favourite Game - Chapter 1
Title: My Favourite Game
Author: elvis_a
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: G through NC-17
Chapter 1/??
Summary: "There was no such thing as self-control anymore. The Joker laid the trap and Batman came running back every time, helplessly wrapped up in a game of 'catch the clown'."
Chapter 1- Cat and Mouse:
The nights were far too quiet in Gotham City these past couple of weeks- no news of villains causing disorder, no bumps in the night or cries for help, and not a word uttered about chaos or evil schemes. The daily news broadcast had resorted to gossip segments and reporting the comings and goings not of villains or even small-time criminals- but of celebrities or just disliked neighbors.
For what felt like ages now, Bruce Wayne felt useless without Batman. For months now, he was just Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, Gotham City's celebrity. He spent his days and evenings focusing all of his time and energy on business affairs. It was the only way to drive away the feelings of growing insanity. He sat up in his bed eating some toast and watching the morning news broadcast. He was mildly surprised to see an image of his face staring back at him from the screen, unmasked.
We've got the inside scoop on Bruce Wayne, Gotham City's wealthiest bachelor, and what really goes on inside the billionaire's penthouse behind closed doors. An inside source reports that money isn't the only thing Bruce Wayne stashes in his penthouse, but may in fact be housing masked vigilante, Batman. The two allegedly became close friends after Wayne offered the Batman sums of money to keep watch as a personal body guard. Has Batman gone so far astray in this drought of crime that he's traded a life of heroism for mooching off of the wealthy? Stay tuned, next!
Bruce snorted to himself and turned the tv off. If it hadn't been for the fact that the news had become worse than the tabloids, such a report might have concerned him.
Another day, another step further away from the Batman. Another step toward cracking. There was a soft knock at the door. "Master Wayne?"
"It's open, Alfred."
"Have you finished your breakfast? If so I suggest you get dressed and come out. There's a letter for you on the table." He fetched the empty breakfast tray from the nightstand and opened the curtains to reveal an overcast day.
"Can you just bring it here, please?"
"Still don't want to get up and out of bed, do you? I haven't seen you like this since-" he cut himself short. "Well alright, then. Do as you like. Lunch will be served on the terrace, though, whether you're there or not," he paused for a moment before extracting the letter from his pocket. "Oh, just take it, then." With a weak smile, he saw himself out as quickly as he'd come in.
Bruce began to open the envelope when his phone rang, tearing him away from his thoughts. He stashed the letter aside to tend to a potential client of his who still needed a bit of persuading. His business ventures kept him occupied for the rest of the day, as he popped in and out of the penthouse for a bite to eat, or a change of clothes. Anything to keep his mind off of his cumulating frustration at the increasing monotony. Life had simply become unfulfilling without Batman.
It wasn't until much later that evening that he settled back in for the night. Once feeding off of the anticipation of what nightfall would bring, Bruce now lamented those nights spent chasing bat-signals and apprehending criminals. It was never even about the excitement of the vigilante lifestyle. His actions were justified in his eyes only as an obligation to his people, but now that it exceeded his grasp, he would give anything to feel the thrill again.
Bruce turned away from the window sill where he once used to sit awaiting his summons on lonely nights- waiting for his light in the sky. He suddenly remembered the letter from earlier that morning, which he hadn't thought much of at the time. There was a brownish smudge on the envelope, which could have easily been food or dirt. On the back it read: Oh please won't you deliver this to the Batman?
He opened it to find a scrap of paper, its message smeared messily in dried blood.
"Batman, come out, come out wherever you are! Tonight I'll let you play hero for old time's sake. Won't that be FUN? I'll be waiting for you!
Joker
xoxo"
Bruce's gut sank. He was all-too-eager to take up the hero throne again, but now that he was potentially face-to-face with the Joker's twisted games again he remembered why it wasn't so thrilling. He wasn't sure this time what Joker had planned, but he was sure he'd find out soon enough. He hesitated for a moment before a sudden realization hit he and he darted from the room in all-out panic. "Alfred! Alfred!" He ran through the penthouse shouting as if nobody would be there to answer his calls.
"If this is about the bloody gossip column again-"
"Alfred, where did you get the letter from this morning? Was it delivered?" he tried his best to keep his voice low and even, but he dreaded the answer he might hear.
"With all due respect, sir- of course it was delivered. Commissioner Gordon dropped it off first thing this morning. He wanted a word with you, but you were sleeping like a baby. He said it was on his desk when he arrived this morning."
"Since when are Batman's letters delivered "Care of Bruce Wayne"?
"I don't know, sir. Actually, he said there was something on the news last night about Batman being holed up at the Wayne estate, and it was the only lead he had. The bat signal doesn't shine in daylight, you know."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Bruce crumpled up the letter in aggravation. "I'll be in my bedroom for the night if you need me, Alfred. Good night." It was bad enough that the gossip columns and evening news all featured Bruce's so-called personal life, but for The Commissioner to believe the things they'd said about him?
"There's your bloody signal" Alfred stepped toward the window, looking out at a skylight in the image of a bat, illuminating the darkened sky.
"Huh? Well I'll be damned," He raised an eyebrow curiously. "I'd better go."
---
When he made his landing on the Police Headquarters rooftop, nearly 20 flights up, Commissioner Gordon wasn't in sight. In fact, there was nobody there at first glance. The bat signal shone brightly from its beacon, but whoever had beckoned him was nowhere to be found. And then, a rustling from behind a pillar, and a sudden flash of purple and green. It could have been mistaken for the wind, but Batman knew better.
"Joker..."
"Oh, Batman, I just knew you'd come. I knew it, I knew it. You see you and me, we think alike. You were waiting a long time for the signal, weren't you? Probably hiding out in your bat cave, oh-so sad and lonely. Now that wouldn't be fair if I got to have all the fun all the time, would it?" Joker stepped out from behind the pillar, his hair pushed back neatly, and looking particularly well-kempt for a madman in his purple suit and green vest.
"Why did you summon me?" Batman took a step closer, and Joker matched it with two steps. The two men stood just a few steps apart.
"Oh, Batsy. See that? I'm always looking out for you. Always thinking ahead," he tapped his forehead with his gloved index finger.
"I didn't come here tonight to play your games," his voice hitched, and he knew Joker could see through him.
"Are you sure?" his voice was a low growl that cut through Batman like a knife.
"I don't have time for this!"
"What's-a-matter, Bats? Got people to save, places to be? BWAHAHA!" His shrill laugh struck a nerve with Batman, who grew impatient despite the fact that they both knew he had nowhere else to go. Nothing to do with all this pent-up anger but butt-heads with Joker.
"If you want me, come and get me!" He gave the Joker a weak shove, not so much to cause damage as it was a taunt. Joker stumbled back and lost his footing. Thrown off-balance, he slid under the guard rail keeping people safe from tumbling over the edge. He grabbed the rail.
"No, no, no. You have it all so wrong. How many times do I have to tell you? You're supposed to catch me!" Without a moment's hesitation, his fingers loosened their grip on the railing, and his slender figure slipped away silently and effortlessly. His shrill laugh pierced the night sky.
Batman didn't think, he jumped. His fingers reached for his grapple hook and within moments it was wrapped tightly around the clown's waist.
"Watch where you stick that th-OW!" The 20-story drop gave the Batman just enough time to plan their safe landing.
"I don't have time for your games, Joker! Hold on tight!"
"Busy, busy, busy. Always too busy for your old buddy, Joker. Hmmm, maybe next time I should book an appointment? Yes..." Batman unraveled the grappling hook and latched it onto the closest thing it could make contact with- a telephone pole- just 2-stories away from reaching an end to their fall, and too close for comfort if he had anything to say about it. The wide-mouthed grin of the Joker said otherwise, and he laughed gleefully, almost childlike. "Again! Again! BWAHAHA!"
"Enough already! Stop wasting my time!"
"B-b-but Batman! Who else is going to keep you company these days? Is there a worthier villain to show me up? If it weren't for me, what could you do? Work a day job? HAHAHA!"
Batman unhooked his grapple hook and the two men made their final descent, landing with a thud on the pavement. His heart raced and he could feel the blood pumping through his body, his head pulsating rhythmically like a drum.
He lived for this dirty game of cat and mouse. He needed it so badly it terrified him, and yet inspired in him a dangerous sense of desire. It was his obsession. Batman wasn't supposed to be like this. He was in control. He called the shots, that is, until that deranged little man in the purple suit came around. There was no such thing as self-control anymore. The Joker laid the trap and Batman came running back every time, helplessly wrapped up in a game of 'catch the clown'.
Batman knew the Joker's schemes all too well. Then why did he allow himself to fall captive to this pattern of trickery and deception time and time again, knowing full well what the Joker would have in store for him, haunted in the truth that with one effortless move he could make the Joker disappear forever?
It was the thrill of the catch, he told himself on many sleepless nights. Not the gratification of bagging the prize, but the thirst to be tested, challenged. He needed to feel that Batman was still needed, that the safety of Gotham City depended on his willingness to wait on its beck and call in the dark of night. So he waited. He always waited, enslaved not by his obligations to the city, but by the whims of a demented clown.
Bruce was the first to pick himself up off the ground, dusting off his resilient batsuit and dragging the Joker up by the scruff of his neck after realizing that the two of them had landed at the front door of the Police Headquarters, not somewhere either of them could risk being seen. He pulled them silently into an adjacent alley, and the Joker did not protest to being hauled around by the Batman for once. They paused to catch their breath, reveling in the silence between them, before soon enough they were at it again.
"I'll ask you one last time. Why did you summon me, Joker?" a demand more than a question. An unsettling smile distorted the Joker's face.
"You know, I was really starting to miss you for a while there, Batman," a pink tongue peeked out to grace scarred lips slowly, in what might have been mistaken for a nervous gesture. "It's no fun wreaking havoc when there's nobody good enough to actually stop you! That would be cheating. It's no fun if you KNOW you're going to win!" the purple-clad man laughed, the scars on the corners of his mouth turning up in a mock-smile. "But I knew you'd come. You always come."
"I didn't come to waste my time on you!" Bruce grabbed the Joker by the neck of his shirt, effortlessly lifting him with one arm and pinning him against the wall of the building.
"Oh what's wrong, Batsy? Thought the Commissioner was really calling on you again? Thought someone might be...in trouble?" he grinned maliciously, which only served to make Batman tighten his grip. "They don't need you. I need you! You're nothing to them anymore. They will never trust Gotham City in your hands again without me!"
"What does this have to do with you?!" Batman growled.
"Oh, it has everything to do with me, Batman. Don't you get it? They only need you so long as there are guys like ME keeping you in business. They don't need you unless I say so. Maybe I should be the next Batman. It's because of me there's been no crime in Gotham City. I call the shots around here. I keep bad guys off Gotham's streets so the higher-ups don't have too much control. I took away their power. I own this city!" Batman stared back at the Joker, looking blankly through his mask. He tried to read the clown's emotions but it was useless with a smile etched perpetually into his face. "Face it, you need me."
"There's nothing you can offer me, Joker," he loosened he grip on the clown, leaving him slumped against the wall. He started to turn his back when a desperate hand gripped his arm to hold him back.
"I'll share it with you if you want me to," the Joker whispered. His voice was hoarse and dry, flushed with panic and fear, "Don't leave me, Batman. Out here, alone. We can call the shots, Batman. Just me and you..."
"Forget it."
"Do you want Gotham City to forget about Batman? You don't exist to them anymore. I can remind them why they need you."
Bruce was fighting a battle within himself, with Batman. Batman would never trust the Joker, would never turn to the likes of scum like him for help. Bruce Wayne, on the other hand, had other plans. He wasn't about to turn away from the streets of Gotham and put away his batsuit forever. No, he needed the criminals of Gotham to keep him on the streets at night, just as much as Gotham had once needed him to keep those same streets safe and free of villains like the Joker. He was fighting a battle, and Batman was losing.
It was pure insanity, but Batman did need the Joker. Without him, he was not Batman at all- just Bruce Wayne. This truth was reality, and it sickened him at how weak he had become to let himself fall prey to this madness. Without Batman, he was only half a man. Bruce Wayne was only one side to a story, and Batman would not lay down his crown and relinquish his throne so easily. He would go down with a fight, and he was bringing the Joker with him.
"Well, well, what do we have here? Gotham's favourite outlaws out past their bedtime?" a young officer appeared in the alley, his fingers tracing the handle of his gun in his belt. He didn't look much older than a boy, but he approached the scene without caution. "You're making my job look too easy." Batman cursed himself for confronting the Joker out in the open and drawing too much attention. He hadn't counted on things to turn sour, but there was little time to linger and draw more attention.
"Then that means my work here is done," Batman turned on his heel to make his way out, but before he had time to react, the officer pulled his gun and pointed it from Batman, to the Joker and back. On the ground, the Joker stifled a laugh.
"Wanna know what we do with dirt bags like you?" the officer spat toward the Joker, waving his gun around as if it were a toy. "We-"
"Is there a problem, officer? I heard voices." a silhouette appeared just behind the officer; a frail man in a worn suit placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Stepping out of the shadows, the streetlights illuminated the man's face, revealing him to be Commissioner Gordon. "We can work this whole thing out. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding, if you would just-"
"Commissioner, don't!" Batman knew why Gordon wanted to stick up for him, but he couldn't risk the integrity of the Commissioner to save face. If the people of Gotham knew the lies they had concocted to cover the deeds of Harvey Dent... "I will live with the consequences."
"Yes, there will be consequences," the officer closed the gap between himself and Batman, grabbing him by the neck.
There was a moment of muddled confusion. Batman didn't know what came over him when he hooked his fist into the officer's face. Blood spattered onto his own face, leaving a sickly taste in his mouth. Seconds ago he was standing in the alley beside the Police Headquarters, a bemused Joker slumped on the ground beside him. Now he was bolting down the city street, Joker in tow, leaving the officer and Commissioner Gordon to chase them. Somehow he knew the Commissioner wouldn't let him get caught tonight, and he smiled wryly to himself.
The Batmobile was parked out back, and he practically shoved the Joker in before jumping behind the wheel. "Keep an eye out, they'll be on our tail," he reversed out of the lot, wheels screeching along the slick pavement. "Hold on tight."
It was a lapse in judgment, or perhaps a moment of sheer insanity that persuaded Bruce to assist the Joker's escape, to lead him to the Batmobile. By the time he had an opportunity to entertain these thoughts, they were already zooming along the deserted highway at top speeds, leaving the city limits behind. He justified his actions by convincing himself that he was using the Joker. Yes, he would use the Joker to make Gotham City realize that they needed Batman. It was for the good of humanity.
Bruce Wayne was just the type conniving bastard to pull this off, and Batman hated him for it.
Author: elvis_a
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: G through NC-17
Chapter 1/??
Summary: "There was no such thing as self-control anymore. The Joker laid the trap and Batman came running back every time, helplessly wrapped up in a game of 'catch the clown'."
Chapter 1- Cat and Mouse:
The nights were far too quiet in Gotham City these past couple of weeks- no news of villains causing disorder, no bumps in the night or cries for help, and not a word uttered about chaos or evil schemes. The daily news broadcast had resorted to gossip segments and reporting the comings and goings not of villains or even small-time criminals- but of celebrities or just disliked neighbors.
For what felt like ages now, Bruce Wayne felt useless without Batman. For months now, he was just Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, Gotham City's celebrity. He spent his days and evenings focusing all of his time and energy on business affairs. It was the only way to drive away the feelings of growing insanity. He sat up in his bed eating some toast and watching the morning news broadcast. He was mildly surprised to see an image of his face staring back at him from the screen, unmasked.
We've got the inside scoop on Bruce Wayne, Gotham City's wealthiest bachelor, and what really goes on inside the billionaire's penthouse behind closed doors. An inside source reports that money isn't the only thing Bruce Wayne stashes in his penthouse, but may in fact be housing masked vigilante, Batman. The two allegedly became close friends after Wayne offered the Batman sums of money to keep watch as a personal body guard. Has Batman gone so far astray in this drought of crime that he's traded a life of heroism for mooching off of the wealthy? Stay tuned, next!
Bruce snorted to himself and turned the tv off. If it hadn't been for the fact that the news had become worse than the tabloids, such a report might have concerned him.
Another day, another step further away from the Batman. Another step toward cracking. There was a soft knock at the door. "Master Wayne?"
"It's open, Alfred."
"Have you finished your breakfast? If so I suggest you get dressed and come out. There's a letter for you on the table." He fetched the empty breakfast tray from the nightstand and opened the curtains to reveal an overcast day.
"Can you just bring it here, please?"
"Still don't want to get up and out of bed, do you? I haven't seen you like this since-" he cut himself short. "Well alright, then. Do as you like. Lunch will be served on the terrace, though, whether you're there or not," he paused for a moment before extracting the letter from his pocket. "Oh, just take it, then." With a weak smile, he saw himself out as quickly as he'd come in.
Bruce began to open the envelope when his phone rang, tearing him away from his thoughts. He stashed the letter aside to tend to a potential client of his who still needed a bit of persuading. His business ventures kept him occupied for the rest of the day, as he popped in and out of the penthouse for a bite to eat, or a change of clothes. Anything to keep his mind off of his cumulating frustration at the increasing monotony. Life had simply become unfulfilling without Batman.
It wasn't until much later that evening that he settled back in for the night. Once feeding off of the anticipation of what nightfall would bring, Bruce now lamented those nights spent chasing bat-signals and apprehending criminals. It was never even about the excitement of the vigilante lifestyle. His actions were justified in his eyes only as an obligation to his people, but now that it exceeded his grasp, he would give anything to feel the thrill again.
Bruce turned away from the window sill where he once used to sit awaiting his summons on lonely nights- waiting for his light in the sky. He suddenly remembered the letter from earlier that morning, which he hadn't thought much of at the time. There was a brownish smudge on the envelope, which could have easily been food or dirt. On the back it read: Oh please won't you deliver this to the Batman?
He opened it to find a scrap of paper, its message smeared messily in dried blood.
"Batman, come out, come out wherever you are! Tonight I'll let you play hero for old time's sake. Won't that be FUN? I'll be waiting for you!
Joker
xoxo"
Bruce's gut sank. He was all-too-eager to take up the hero throne again, but now that he was potentially face-to-face with the Joker's twisted games again he remembered why it wasn't so thrilling. He wasn't sure this time what Joker had planned, but he was sure he'd find out soon enough. He hesitated for a moment before a sudden realization hit he and he darted from the room in all-out panic. "Alfred! Alfred!" He ran through the penthouse shouting as if nobody would be there to answer his calls.
"If this is about the bloody gossip column again-"
"Alfred, where did you get the letter from this morning? Was it delivered?" he tried his best to keep his voice low and even, but he dreaded the answer he might hear.
"With all due respect, sir- of course it was delivered. Commissioner Gordon dropped it off first thing this morning. He wanted a word with you, but you were sleeping like a baby. He said it was on his desk when he arrived this morning."
"Since when are Batman's letters delivered "Care of Bruce Wayne"?
"I don't know, sir. Actually, he said there was something on the news last night about Batman being holed up at the Wayne estate, and it was the only lead he had. The bat signal doesn't shine in daylight, you know."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Bruce crumpled up the letter in aggravation. "I'll be in my bedroom for the night if you need me, Alfred. Good night." It was bad enough that the gossip columns and evening news all featured Bruce's so-called personal life, but for The Commissioner to believe the things they'd said about him?
"There's your bloody signal" Alfred stepped toward the window, looking out at a skylight in the image of a bat, illuminating the darkened sky.
"Huh? Well I'll be damned," He raised an eyebrow curiously. "I'd better go."
---
When he made his landing on the Police Headquarters rooftop, nearly 20 flights up, Commissioner Gordon wasn't in sight. In fact, there was nobody there at first glance. The bat signal shone brightly from its beacon, but whoever had beckoned him was nowhere to be found. And then, a rustling from behind a pillar, and a sudden flash of purple and green. It could have been mistaken for the wind, but Batman knew better.
"Joker..."
"Oh, Batman, I just knew you'd come. I knew it, I knew it. You see you and me, we think alike. You were waiting a long time for the signal, weren't you? Probably hiding out in your bat cave, oh-so sad and lonely. Now that wouldn't be fair if I got to have all the fun all the time, would it?" Joker stepped out from behind the pillar, his hair pushed back neatly, and looking particularly well-kempt for a madman in his purple suit and green vest.
"Why did you summon me?" Batman took a step closer, and Joker matched it with two steps. The two men stood just a few steps apart.
"Oh, Batsy. See that? I'm always looking out for you. Always thinking ahead," he tapped his forehead with his gloved index finger.
"I didn't come here tonight to play your games," his voice hitched, and he knew Joker could see through him.
"Are you sure?" his voice was a low growl that cut through Batman like a knife.
"I don't have time for this!"
"What's-a-matter, Bats? Got people to save, places to be? BWAHAHA!" His shrill laugh struck a nerve with Batman, who grew impatient despite the fact that they both knew he had nowhere else to go. Nothing to do with all this pent-up anger but butt-heads with Joker.
"If you want me, come and get me!" He gave the Joker a weak shove, not so much to cause damage as it was a taunt. Joker stumbled back and lost his footing. Thrown off-balance, he slid under the guard rail keeping people safe from tumbling over the edge. He grabbed the rail.
"No, no, no. You have it all so wrong. How many times do I have to tell you? You're supposed to catch me!" Without a moment's hesitation, his fingers loosened their grip on the railing, and his slender figure slipped away silently and effortlessly. His shrill laugh pierced the night sky.
Batman didn't think, he jumped. His fingers reached for his grapple hook and within moments it was wrapped tightly around the clown's waist.
"Watch where you stick that th-OW!" The 20-story drop gave the Batman just enough time to plan their safe landing.
"I don't have time for your games, Joker! Hold on tight!"
"Busy, busy, busy. Always too busy for your old buddy, Joker. Hmmm, maybe next time I should book an appointment? Yes..." Batman unraveled the grappling hook and latched it onto the closest thing it could make contact with- a telephone pole- just 2-stories away from reaching an end to their fall, and too close for comfort if he had anything to say about it. The wide-mouthed grin of the Joker said otherwise, and he laughed gleefully, almost childlike. "Again! Again! BWAHAHA!"
"Enough already! Stop wasting my time!"
"B-b-but Batman! Who else is going to keep you company these days? Is there a worthier villain to show me up? If it weren't for me, what could you do? Work a day job? HAHAHA!"
Batman unhooked his grapple hook and the two men made their final descent, landing with a thud on the pavement. His heart raced and he could feel the blood pumping through his body, his head pulsating rhythmically like a drum.
He lived for this dirty game of cat and mouse. He needed it so badly it terrified him, and yet inspired in him a dangerous sense of desire. It was his obsession. Batman wasn't supposed to be like this. He was in control. He called the shots, that is, until that deranged little man in the purple suit came around. There was no such thing as self-control anymore. The Joker laid the trap and Batman came running back every time, helplessly wrapped up in a game of 'catch the clown'.
Batman knew the Joker's schemes all too well. Then why did he allow himself to fall captive to this pattern of trickery and deception time and time again, knowing full well what the Joker would have in store for him, haunted in the truth that with one effortless move he could make the Joker disappear forever?
It was the thrill of the catch, he told himself on many sleepless nights. Not the gratification of bagging the prize, but the thirst to be tested, challenged. He needed to feel that Batman was still needed, that the safety of Gotham City depended on his willingness to wait on its beck and call in the dark of night. So he waited. He always waited, enslaved not by his obligations to the city, but by the whims of a demented clown.
Bruce was the first to pick himself up off the ground, dusting off his resilient batsuit and dragging the Joker up by the scruff of his neck after realizing that the two of them had landed at the front door of the Police Headquarters, not somewhere either of them could risk being seen. He pulled them silently into an adjacent alley, and the Joker did not protest to being hauled around by the Batman for once. They paused to catch their breath, reveling in the silence between them, before soon enough they were at it again.
"I'll ask you one last time. Why did you summon me, Joker?" a demand more than a question. An unsettling smile distorted the Joker's face.
"You know, I was really starting to miss you for a while there, Batman," a pink tongue peeked out to grace scarred lips slowly, in what might have been mistaken for a nervous gesture. "It's no fun wreaking havoc when there's nobody good enough to actually stop you! That would be cheating. It's no fun if you KNOW you're going to win!" the purple-clad man laughed, the scars on the corners of his mouth turning up in a mock-smile. "But I knew you'd come. You always come."
"I didn't come to waste my time on you!" Bruce grabbed the Joker by the neck of his shirt, effortlessly lifting him with one arm and pinning him against the wall of the building.
"Oh what's wrong, Batsy? Thought the Commissioner was really calling on you again? Thought someone might be...in trouble?" he grinned maliciously, which only served to make Batman tighten his grip. "They don't need you. I need you! You're nothing to them anymore. They will never trust Gotham City in your hands again without me!"
"What does this have to do with you?!" Batman growled.
"Oh, it has everything to do with me, Batman. Don't you get it? They only need you so long as there are guys like ME keeping you in business. They don't need you unless I say so. Maybe I should be the next Batman. It's because of me there's been no crime in Gotham City. I call the shots around here. I keep bad guys off Gotham's streets so the higher-ups don't have too much control. I took away their power. I own this city!" Batman stared back at the Joker, looking blankly through his mask. He tried to read the clown's emotions but it was useless with a smile etched perpetually into his face. "Face it, you need me."
"There's nothing you can offer me, Joker," he loosened he grip on the clown, leaving him slumped against the wall. He started to turn his back when a desperate hand gripped his arm to hold him back.
"I'll share it with you if you want me to," the Joker whispered. His voice was hoarse and dry, flushed with panic and fear, "Don't leave me, Batman. Out here, alone. We can call the shots, Batman. Just me and you..."
"Forget it."
"Do you want Gotham City to forget about Batman? You don't exist to them anymore. I can remind them why they need you."
Bruce was fighting a battle within himself, with Batman. Batman would never trust the Joker, would never turn to the likes of scum like him for help. Bruce Wayne, on the other hand, had other plans. He wasn't about to turn away from the streets of Gotham and put away his batsuit forever. No, he needed the criminals of Gotham to keep him on the streets at night, just as much as Gotham had once needed him to keep those same streets safe and free of villains like the Joker. He was fighting a battle, and Batman was losing.
It was pure insanity, but Batman did need the Joker. Without him, he was not Batman at all- just Bruce Wayne. This truth was reality, and it sickened him at how weak he had become to let himself fall prey to this madness. Without Batman, he was only half a man. Bruce Wayne was only one side to a story, and Batman would not lay down his crown and relinquish his throne so easily. He would go down with a fight, and he was bringing the Joker with him.
"Well, well, what do we have here? Gotham's favourite outlaws out past their bedtime?" a young officer appeared in the alley, his fingers tracing the handle of his gun in his belt. He didn't look much older than a boy, but he approached the scene without caution. "You're making my job look too easy." Batman cursed himself for confronting the Joker out in the open and drawing too much attention. He hadn't counted on things to turn sour, but there was little time to linger and draw more attention.
"Then that means my work here is done," Batman turned on his heel to make his way out, but before he had time to react, the officer pulled his gun and pointed it from Batman, to the Joker and back. On the ground, the Joker stifled a laugh.
"Wanna know what we do with dirt bags like you?" the officer spat toward the Joker, waving his gun around as if it were a toy. "We-"
"Is there a problem, officer? I heard voices." a silhouette appeared just behind the officer; a frail man in a worn suit placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Stepping out of the shadows, the streetlights illuminated the man's face, revealing him to be Commissioner Gordon. "We can work this whole thing out. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding, if you would just-"
"Commissioner, don't!" Batman knew why Gordon wanted to stick up for him, but he couldn't risk the integrity of the Commissioner to save face. If the people of Gotham knew the lies they had concocted to cover the deeds of Harvey Dent... "I will live with the consequences."
"Yes, there will be consequences," the officer closed the gap between himself and Batman, grabbing him by the neck.
There was a moment of muddled confusion. Batman didn't know what came over him when he hooked his fist into the officer's face. Blood spattered onto his own face, leaving a sickly taste in his mouth. Seconds ago he was standing in the alley beside the Police Headquarters, a bemused Joker slumped on the ground beside him. Now he was bolting down the city street, Joker in tow, leaving the officer and Commissioner Gordon to chase them. Somehow he knew the Commissioner wouldn't let him get caught tonight, and he smiled wryly to himself.
The Batmobile was parked out back, and he practically shoved the Joker in before jumping behind the wheel. "Keep an eye out, they'll be on our tail," he reversed out of the lot, wheels screeching along the slick pavement. "Hold on tight."
It was a lapse in judgment, or perhaps a moment of sheer insanity that persuaded Bruce to assist the Joker's escape, to lead him to the Batmobile. By the time he had an opportunity to entertain these thoughts, they were already zooming along the deserted highway at top speeds, leaving the city limits behind. He justified his actions by convincing himself that he was using the Joker. Yes, he would use the Joker to make Gotham City realize that they needed Batman. It was for the good of humanity.
Bruce Wayne was just the type conniving bastard to pull this off, and Batman hated him for it.