Title: The Game We Play, Chapter 2 - White Roses

Author: Co-written by Jay Narra & Liana Kerzner

Rating: G

Pairing: Batman/Joker

Fandom: Think "The Killing Joke," & "Arkham Asylum." Mildly BTAS. Some point after the comic "Death In The Family."

Feedback: Definitely! Appreciated! raytheoncentaur3@yahoo.com

Archive: Yes, certainly! Just let me know it's there!

Disclaimer: Batman & Joker are (c) DC! Not mine!

Summary: A lot can happen in one night's span. So much that it may never be reversed.


The Game We Play, Chapter 2 - White Roses
Co-written by Jay Narra & Liana Kerzner


A few minutes later.........

Joker gasped and coughed into Batman's face, his eyes opening up all of a sudden. *Batman..?* He was confused and feeling disoriented, too weak to remember what happened. But when he felt a large hand on his chest, and looked down to see it, a giggle erupted from his mouth. "Oh, sweetheart.. shouldn't I be awake if you're going to make out with me?"

Batman fought the urge to give the Joker another knock.

"I liked you better when you weren't breathing." He lied, pushing away from the Joker and resisting the urge to spit as he wiped his mouth. This was turning in to one hell of a night.

"So cruel," Joker muttered, trying to sit up but feeling quite unable to. He licked his lips and smiled. "Mmmm.. toothpaste.. definitely a good thing you keep up with your dental hygiene, Bats. I might've been all grossed out, otherwise."

Batman looked over at him incredulously.

"It isn't an act with you, is it?" He asked, almost curiously. Revolted, but curious.

"What isn't an act?" Joker asked, peering over toward the dark figure. "I only said that you taste good." He smirked and reached down to straighten out his jacket..

"The fact that you'd even notice that after being unconscious." Batman replied, taking another step back to keep the distance between them. "You were fairly close to dying. . . but you seem surprisingly fine now. Mind over matter, perhaps?"

"Perhaps.." Joker shrugged while laying down, finding it almost comfortable, anyway. He glanced over at Batman, laughing inwardly. "Why do you ask? Would it make you uncomfortable if I were to say I faked it?"

"I'd like to know how you go about faking an irregular heartbeat and lack of any respiratory pattern." Batman said, trying not to read too much in to the 'faking' comment. . . and not show that his hands were shaking.

"Well.." Joker trailed off, unable to answer that question. "I woke up a few seconds before I actually opened my eyes.. and then did the whole gasping stuff.." He sighed and picked at his nails, trying to irritate the Bat more than anything.

*Wonderful,* Batman thought, but he said nothing. He stared at the Joker silently, not moving, hoping to intimidate even a little bit.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Joker turned his head to look at the Bat, wishing he was more active.. this was going to be a LONG night, otherwise. "Here, let me initiate the conversation again.. What kind of toothpaste do you use?"

Batman continued to stare, his expression hardening and becoming harder to read.

"Does Robin use the same type?" Joker pressed, leaning on his hands as he forced his body upright. "Minty fresh? I should see sometime.."

Batman felt a knot cramp up in his stomach, and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but still he said nothing.

"And how about that aftershave? Probably something like 'Stormy Rain,' right? Something to match your personality..?" He grinned deviously, knowing perfectly well he was getting to Batman..

Batman lunged toward Joker as if to hit him, hoping to scare him. . . Or shut him up for two seconds.

Joker raised his hands up to cover his face, crying out in surprise. His body made a 'thump' sound as it hit the wall.. he had tried to back away. "Dammit, BATS!" he screeched, realizing that it had only been a sort of warning. "Here we were, having a perfectly good conversation! And what do you do?!"

"Funny, you were the only one I heard talking." Batman said darkly, stepping away again.

Joker shot forward.. onto his knees.. and then up to his feet, wincing in pain but coping with it. He wavered and reached out for the wall, not having expected to be so dizzy. "That.. morphine.. you
gave me.." He grumbled a little and closed his eyes.

*Not again.* Batman thought. He leaned forward cautiously to check on Joker, shaking him gently by the shoulder.

"What do you want?" Joker hissed, looking up at him from the tops of his eyes. "..Gonna take another swing at me?" He stumbled all of a sudden, moving backward a few feet.. and then tripped over the mattress, ending up back on the floor - where he'd started.

Batman rolled his eyes and pulled Joker back onto the makeshift bed he'd made on the floor. "How many times do I have to tell you not to move?" He asked. "Just because you're not feeling any pain doesn't mean you're not badly injured."

"Are you going to hold me down, then?" Joker asked, looking up at Batman. He broke into a miniature fit of giggles, not able to help himself, really.

"No." Batman said. "I have a better idea."

He moved Joker off the mattress, threw it back on the cot, lifted Joker on to it, then went for something on his belt.

"What are you doing?" Joker asked curiously, unsure of whether or not he liked this idea.

Batman just gave him a nasty smirk and pulled out a length of rope usually used with his grappling hooks. He started tying Joker down. He knew the green-haired freak would say something, but it might be worth it.

"Hey!" The Joker protested, immediately moving to sit up... he held his left arm away from Batman, not willing to let him do this. "You can't just tie me down, you loon!"

Batman looked at him and grabbed his right arm. "This can be easy or this can be hard." He said. "Your choice."

The Joker kept his left arm away from Batman, wanting to test him.. to see if he'd really go so far as to hurt him again. "Hard."

Batman paused and let his head drop a little, realizing what he'd walked into. After a *you idiot* moment, he went back to tying up Joker's right wrist.

Joker watched Batman tie up his hand, wondering why he was being so quiet again. "You umm.. heh.." he coughed once, "like this whole bondage stuff, don't you?"

"Better than having to hold you down myself." Batman deadpanned, reaching for Joker's other wrist.

Joker resisted, holding it away and then behind his back so that Batman would have to reach around his torso.. "What's the matter? Can't quite get me to cooperate?" He snickered.

Batman tilted his head in a manner that was almost beckoning. "What's the matter Joker?" He asked. "Five minutes ago, you couldn't keep your hands off me." He reached over him to try to
grab his arm.

"And NOW - YOU can't keep YOUR hands off of ME!" Joker giggled and leaned forward toward Batman's form, forgetting for the moment that he was supposed to be an enemy. He went in real close, grinned.. and then presented his arm for Batman. "Do with me what you will. You'd
win eventually, anyway."

*Thank god,* Batman thought, finally seizing the Joker's wrist and lashing it to the metal cot.

Joker, now tied down at the wrists, had to actually lay down to avoid discomfort. "Now what?" he asked in a deep voice, purposefully giving Batman a strange look.

Batman shrugged, leaned against the wall casually and folded his arms across his chest, smirking.

"Now what are you smirking at?" Joker was full of questions tonight. He shifted in the bed, a little chilly because of his shirt being open.

Batman's smirk widened.

"WHAT?!" Joker demanded. "Dammit, tell me! Am I growing a third arm?!"

"You're just too cute." Batman mocked. He was in the mood for torturing Joker a little...

Joker blinked. He paused in the midst of whining some more... and narrowed his green eyes, staring Batman down. "Excuse me?"

Batman stifled a laugh. Ah, the joys of sleep deprivation. He told himself this wasn't supposed to be fun. "I think you heard me." He said.

A shiver raced down Joker's spine in response to Batman's simple statement. "I'm hoping I did.. because otherwise you really DID hit me hard." He squirmed a little against the rope, feeling awkward at the moment. He wasn't quite so sure of what to say in response, but blurted out, "It's about time someone other than Harley told me that."

Batman blinked behind the eye-slits in his cowl. "You've got to be kidding me." He blurted out. He couldn't believe that the Joker was taking things this direction.

"What? Kidding you how?" Joker was confused.. One minute Batman was blatantly hating him, then next he was telling him he was cute..

Batman shook his head. In his surprise, he'd almost blown an opportunity to get inside the Joker's head. "Never mind." He said. "Keep talking."

"About what?" Joker asked timidly. Batman was starting to worry him. He wasn't being himself.

"About someone other than Harley telling you that." Batman prompted.

"I.. was just saying that it isn't every night someone tells me I'm attractive," Joker said cautiously, eyeing the Bat. "And it's especially strange hearing it.. from.. you.." He tried to shrug, but the rope made it difficult. "It's just.. I....." He was getting a little lost, unsure of what he was saying. Was Batman doing this on purpose?

"You what?" Batman prompted again, as pleasantly as possible. . . which still wasn't all that pleasant.

"Nevermind. It isn't important. I want to know why you called me cute." Joker put on his 'stern' look, pretending he was just as tough as Batman.

*Damn,* Batman thought, hiding his disappointment behind a stone-faced exterior. His mind raced as to how to respond. This wasn't exactly the first time he manipulated someone this way, but they were usually female, and he usually wasn't wearing a mask. Still, the same script applied. "No, it is important," he said, more welcomingly this time. "Tell me, please?"

*Note to self: scrub with a wire brush when you get home tonight,* the Dark Knight thought.

Joker sighed and readjusted his position on the bed again, feeling more and more uncomfortable. "I umm.. I was just thinking how you and I made each other. At the chemical plant, you know?" He frowned. "I'm not sure what I was going to say, really.." *God, this is strange..*

"You didn't make me." Batman said sharply. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, screw off!" Joker spat. "Of course I did. Without me to push you over the edge, you wouldn't be around! I started the insanity in this city and I'll finish it!"

"You're wrong," Batman argued, trying to fight off the all too familiar flashbacks about what had really 'made' him. "I haven't been pushed over the edge."

"Oh, yes you have!" Joker argued, pulling on the ropes. He was getting himself worked up again.. and nothing good would come of it. "Just tell me why you called me CUTE!" He reverted the
conversation back to it's original context, hoping to pry into some kind of answer.

"Because I feel sorry for you right now." Batman answered.

Joker took in a deep breath to calm himself... let it out, and closed his eyes. "Thank you. Now.. why do you feel sorry for me?" He stared back at Batman again, his curiosity peaked.

"Because of the amount of energy you spend trying to get my attention," the Batman replied.

"How is that such a bad thing?" Joker asked. "I do that because I love playing with you. Gotham is a playground.. and you're my play-buddy. And eventually I'll lead you down the wrong path into a darker section.. and you'll understand what it is to be mad. You're the best friend I have.. and it's because I want so much to show you... show you my view of the world."

"Those are real people's lives you're playing with." Batman spat, the anger returning to his voice. "I don't have any interest in your view of the world, whatever you consider me." The Joker
considered him his best friend? Something inside of him, the monster that was the Bat, was reacting strongly to that. A pain in his stomach almost caused him to double over as his two halfs warred for supremacy. It would be so easy to go down that path. So easy. Which was precisely why he couldn't do it. "Where. . ." His voice failed and he cleared his throat. "Where does Harley fit with you if I'm your best friend?"

"Harley is.. she's.. she's Harley! She's my henchwench! She does what I tell her and fills the lonliness that burns away my livelihood! I sit in my stinking run-down hide-out and plot ways to
bring you back into my life! I think up things to get you angry at me.. angry enough to come after me! To give chase! It's all one big game! And you just don't realize that we've both lost several pieces somewhere.. and someday, one of us will win... It might be me.. it might be you.. but.. but wouldn't it be nice if we could," Joker choked a little, coughing through his anger, "be.. be happy?!"

"Stop gassing teenagers in nightclubs and I'll be very happy." Batman growled, starting to pace the cell like a caged animal. After all, that was what he was, wasn't he? "Stop taking over asylums and kidnapping and killing children and I'll be thrilled!" His cape swirled in the air as he turned sharply to face the other man. "Don't you get it?!" He raged. "Some people have responsibilities that supercede happiness! I'm one of those people! I have to do this! I HAVE to come after you, because if I don't, who will?! Who's going to stop you?! It'll never be enough Joker! All the violence and death and destruction, it's never going to fill that space inside you! You won't be able to shut off the part of you that actually feels by commiting increasingly horrible attrocities! You're going to keep hurting, and there's nothing you can do, no pain that you can inflict on someone else that will change that! You. . ." He forced himself to stop, aware that he was losing control again.

"Don't you think I know that?! It isn't the crimes themselves that make me feel good! No! It's that moment on a rooftop when you're staring me down.. that moment when I'm handcuffed and bleeding at your feet.. the moment you bring my plots crashing down around me - like my sanity once did - that I FEEL! Those are the moments I wait every night for! And when you lock me up in Arkham, I have to escape because I have to feel that way! It's an addiction, but it's the only thing I have!" He glared at Batman, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping him going. "I lost everything when crime stepped into my life! And so, following in the words of the wise: If you
can't beat 'em, join 'em!" His last words were hissed through clenched teeth, finalizing his rant and giving Batman his opportunity to respond.

Respond was exactly what Batman didn't know how to do. The Joker's admission was sick, masochistic and. . . tragic. He'd never perceived the Joker as a victim before.

*This could be a trick,* He thought. But something told him it wasn't. There was a ring of truth to the Joker's ranting. Guilt and responsibility washed over him, as well as a feeling of helplessness. The Joker had nothing to lose. He'd just keep at it until one or both of them were dead.

*And if I killed him,* Batman thought, *It would be the ultimate victory for him. I can't stop this and I can't look away. I can't win this fight. I can't beat him.*

*Well, if you can't beat 'em. . .*

No. That wasn't an option.

He shook off the thoughts. No matter what, he was going to have to keep the Joker calm, or he was going to cause himself further injury thrashing around like that. With a gentleness that surprised even himself, he laid a hand on the Joker's shoulder.

"Shhh." He hushed. "You HAVE to stop doing that. You keep it up and you'll aggravate your injuries to the point that they become fatal. . ."

He choked on his next words, but if he was going to communicate with the Joker, he was going to have to speak his language. After a pause, he spoke.

"And killing yourself isn't part of the game, right?"

"Hmph," Joker answered, feeling himself calm down despite his resolve to get as much into Batman's mind as possible. He glanced at the hand on his shoulder and wondered about the sudden calm in his arch nemisis' voice. "I.. guess not."

Batman nodded slowly and felt the Joker's forehead again." You're cold." He said flatly. He retrieved his cape from the ground and covered the Joker with it. Doing something helped occupy his mind.

"Aww.. how thoughtful," Joker said softly, not trying to malicious so much as not being able to resist commenting. Noting the look on Batman's face, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing that concerns you." Batman said cryptically.

"Of course it does, sweetheart. You're thinking about something I said.. or maybe something you have yet to say..?" He lifted one eyebrow and crossed his legs under the cape.

"I'm thinking about everything you said." Batman answered. "Trying to determine whether I believe any of it."

"And why would you have reason not to trust ME?" he asked, giggling through it. "...I wasn't lying. I have no reason to."

"You have no reason to tell the truth either." Batman pointed out.

"True... true.." Joker nodded a few times and then shrugged. "So tell me what it is EXACTLY that you're thinking.."

"That comment about crime affecting your life." Batman said slowly, thoughtfully. "What exactly were you referring to?"

"Red Hood," Joker stated simply. "Don't tell me you don't remember..I'd be a little disappointed, Batsy.."

"Oh." Batman said, disappointed. "I thought you might have meant something else. You were a criminal before you were. . . what you are now. You can't expect me to feel bad that it didn't pay off for you."

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I'm enjoying my life," Joker said with a long sigh. "And yes, I was a criminal before-hand. Not that you should care. It doesn't affect you. Nothing before my rebirth matters. As far as you know, I've forgotten it."

"But you haven't forgotten." Batman observed. "And that statement contradicts what you said earlier, about really feeling."

"I'm a notorious liar," Joker spat, turning to look at Batman. "Alright, I'll admit I lied. I'm not enjoying a second of my life. You know the rest of that.." He closed his eyes for a moment. "What makes you think I haven't forgotten?"

"Because you brought it up." Batman said, going back to lean against the wall. "And you'd be disappointed if I forgot."

"You can't forget something you never knew," Joker pointed out, opening his eyes to watch Gotham's hero. "You didn't know me before our rendevous at the chemical plant. You don't even know my real name. But.. this subject is boring me. Why don't we talk about YOU? Before YOU first put on the mask.. hmm? What do you do when you aren't busy breaking my bones?"

"I break Two Face's bones. Or The Penguin's, or the Riddler's." Batman deadpanned. "My calendar is quite full." The Joker had to be crazy if he thought that he'd tell him anything about that subject. . . but he was crazy, wasn't he?

"Well, what about during the day? You know, when you're lonely... do you have a wench to go home to?" Joker giggled a little and rolled his head to the side, looking at the wall instead of his 'friend.'

"No." Batman said darkly, making it very clear that this line was questioning was over.

Joker turned to look back at Batman, his interest soaring. "Why not? No one will have your great sense of humor and dashing looks?"

"They don't like the people I hang around with at night." Batman said, staring at the Joker with frightening intensity.

"Too bad," Joker responded casually. "Hey, maybe you should take me home with you some night. I'm sure I'd get along with your night crowd."

"You ARE my night crowd." Batman snapped, rapidly losing his sense of humor. He wished he had some concept of how much time had passed, but there were no windows, and no clocks to be seen. "This place is useless." He grumbled.

"Yes, it is.. because I continuously get to spend time with you, darling." Joker made a kissy-face and chuckled to himself, making the cape rise and fall over him a few times. "And I must say.. you look better without your wings. Shows off your big, strong muscles." He laughed again, more full-hearted this time, filling the room with his voice.

Batman stared at him for a long time, willing himself not to lash out. No more violence. "Why do you do that?" He finally said. "We both know you'd like nothing better to see me drawn and quartered. Why cook up the whole psuedo-romantic fairy tale?"

"I don't want you dead, Batsy," Joker cooed, ending his laughter slowly. "Who says it's a fairy tale? And besides, if it is.. than it's a damned good one. You - the hero - saved my life. How
romantic!"

"I'm not a hero." Batman protested.

"Oh, phooey! Of course you are! You save Gotham over and over from the Grand Mogul of Monte-Banks! Don't give me that modest bat guano." Joker paused afterward, wanting to see Batman's reaction.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand." Batman said, turning to face the wall. "That's what makes us different. You think in terms of heroes and villains. I think in terms of right and wrong. Too often I do the wrong things for the right reasons. That doesn't make me a hero."

"What SORTS of things..?" Joker asked, watching Batman with intense curiosity. "How can Batman do wrong?"

Batman's head turned mechanically to face him. "You almost died tonight. How is that right?"

"Am I to understand that you're sorry for hitting me?" Joker prodded, his interest shifting. "Could it be that ol' Bats has a few feelings lodged in his heart after all?"

"I'm always sorry when things turn to violence." Batman said in a graveLly tone. "Sometimes it's the only type of communication psychopaths like you understand. Sometimes. . . it's just a mistake. Anyone with a conscience would feel sorry."

"Oh.. well, then.. it's a pity I don't feel sorry." Joker shut up after that, realizing he'd opened up a new can of worms.. Quickly trying to shovel that aside, he asked, "So then.. kicking me in the gut was a mistake? You would rather I'd managed to touch you?"

Batman sighed. "No. I'd rather have stopped you from touching me in a different way. I definitely did NOT want you touching me." He shuddered inwardly at the thought. . . it felt forced somehow
though, like he was required to have that reaction. He was getting tired.

"Funny that you added that on... that you felt it necessary to tell me you absolutely didn't want me touching you. Makes me think that perhaps.... you did. Or that.. you aren't really as repulsed as
you're leading on..."

"Just making sure there's no room for misinterpretation." Batman said, turning away from the wall again. "I'm not repulsed. I don't want to encourage these disturbed fantasies you have about me."

"Fantasies!" Joker exclaimed, shaking his head with glee. "Boy, you sure are the story-teller over there, aren't you? I'd like to ask, then.. why you locked yourself in my cell with me? It wasn't an
accident. You did it intentionally. You could very well have left. You could have dropped me off, angry and hurt... and then left. But you stayed. If I'm the one with fantasies, then why are you still
sitting here with me?"

"Because I wanted to make sure that for at least one night, you stayed the hell where you belonged!" Batman responded, starting to raise his voice again. "It wasn't two days ago I thought you were back in custody, and here we are, back to the same old tired dance! If Harley tries to bust you out of here, I'll be here to stop her!"

"Do you REALLY think Harley's coming to bust me out? Come on.. really." Joker stared Batman down, a very serious tone to his voice. "I think you have alterior motives. But if you insist on
lying to me, go ahead. It isn't as though I can get up and try to intimidate it out of you... not that that seems to work ever, anyway.."

"Fine!" Batman responded immediately, cutting the Joker off from saying anything further. "You want to hear me say I didn't leave you here because you had just fallen down a flight of stone stairs, and I wanted to make sure you weren't going to die, but also wanted to be sure you weren't going to run again?! There! I said it!" He reigned his temper in again. Each time was more difficult, and took longer. He could feel his jaw twitching again as he fought to calm down. "Satisfied?" He eventually demanded, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

"Quite so," Joker answered gaily. "Now for the real interesting stuff: Why were you concerned about me being safe? I thought I disgusted you. Really, Bats.. you don't make too much sense if one really ponders it."

"I told you, because the only thing that separates us is the fact that I won't let anyone die, because of something I did or didn't do. Not if I can avoid it." His speech was slow, controlled, carefully thought out. "Even you. Even though saving your life means that sometime in the future, more people might die. I'm not an executioner."

"I don't understand you in this case," Joker started. "If you know I'm just going to kill again.. perhaps another child.. why should you bother caring? You should let me bleed to death, laying on the floor of my cell. Gotham would be better off, correct? So.. what are you waiting for, really? Why do you allow me the oppurtunity to claim more lives..?"

"Because that's the game." Batman said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Joker stared at Batman angrily. He was a little frustrated with the short replies he was receiving. "A game I constantly win."

"You set the rules. It's easy." The Dark Knight turned his back to the Joker.

"Why do you do that?" Joker asked, really wishing he could sit up just about now.

Batman's reply was a long time in coming, as if he wasn't really listening. "Do what?"

"Turn away from me like that. It's so cold..." Joker grumbled a little, tried once more to shift, and then added, "You're supposed to look a person in the eye when you hold conversation. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"

"Didn't yours?" Batman shot back through gritted teeth. "I'd say homicide is pretty bad form." *Shut up. Just shut up.* He thought.

Two gun shots. His body shook as if they had hit him.

They didn't. Getting shot didn't hurt this badly.

Joker tilted his head to the side, catching the pained expression twisting Batman's mouth... ever.. so.. slightly. "What's the matter..? Did I hit a chord?"

Batman didn't respond. He shrunk into the far corner of the cell, seeming to disappear into the shadows. He needed distance. Batman didn't have parents. He didn't hurt. He wasn't afraid of anything. That was Bruce Wayne, and Bruce Wayne wasn't here.

Right now, Bruce Wayne didn't exist.

No feeling. No fear. No tragedy.

The Bat, the monster, had always existed.

It wasn't a result of something that had happened when he was six. . . no, that hadn't happened. Not to him. That was someone else.

"Nice try," a flat, emotionless voice said from the shadows. "Tell me about your mother, Joker. You kill her, too?"

"Something's wrong.. and I'd come to comfort you.. but.. I fear I've been restrained." Joker blew at a green curl in his eyes and then whispered, "Ohhhhh, BATman...? Come here and let me make it all better. Heh... heh..."

The clown wasn't sure at this point whether or not he was playing around.

*Here we go again.* Batman thought. But this was usually when the Joker started talking with something that resembled honesty. All he needed was a little push. "And how would you do that?" Batman asked.

"I'd probably do that one thing you said repulsed you so very much," the clown replied with a sigh. "Or maybe let you give me mouth-to-mouth again. I still haven't figured out just WHAT you use, y'know.."

Batman slowly crossed the room and stood near the Joker's head, looking down at him "No. I don't know." He said. "Enlighten me."

"Untie me and I'll show you," Joker teased, opening and closing his hands for punctuation. "Or are you too afraid to risk something like that? Big, bad lunatic might getcha.." *What am I doing?* he asked himself mentally. *Have I really gone over the edge tonight?*

"The restraints are for your own good." Batman reiterated, his suit creaking as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "It's not me I'm worried about. You seem to have little regard for your own well-being."

"So what? Let me out of them. I won't do anything stupid." Joker tugged a little, getting irratated at being made to lay on his back. He wanted to at least have the ability to sit up. "I can't talk to
you like this. It feels awkward." *So does the fact that you're standing RIGHT over me,* he thought to himself. *Very.. unbat-like.*

Batman considered the Joker's request. It was really a no-win situation. If he said no, the Joker would throw a fit and possibly dislocate his shoulder or worse. If he said yes he'd be loose. But
he'd still be in the cell.

Even though his first instinct had been that untying the Joker would be ridiculously stupid, upon further consideration, he realized it was probably the better of the two options.

"Fine," he said resolutely. "But you're going to stay still until you're completely untied, or you're going into cuffs." He leaned over the Joker to untie his left wrist.

Joker waited patiently, leaving his hand where it was even after Batman untied it. He supposed that just this once.. he'd follow instructions. After his left wrist was untied, he watched the Bat to
see if he'd follow through and untie his other wrist.

"There." Batman said, untying his right wrist. Now no tantrums."

He started to back away.

Joker sat up slowly and stretched out his arms, moving his fingers like they were tickling the air. "Much better!" A grin crossed over his features as he leaned forward a little more, reaching the edge of the mattress. "Where're you going? I thought you wanted me to make you feel better?"

"No," Batman stated, going back to his perch on the other side of the room. "I don't want you to make yourself feel worse."

"But if I weren't feeling yucky.. you'd want me to?" He lowered himself down onto the floor, taking his time so as not to alarm Batman.

"You're going to keep asking that until I say yes?" Batman growled, watching him like a lion watches a gazelle before pouncing.

Joker nodded and started crawling across the floor... but then stopped halfway.

"What?" Batman said, sounding annoyed.

"Just... seeing if you were gonna get up and kick me in the face," Joker responded lowly, his eyes tinged with devious intent.

"Sorry to disappoint." Batman said, his annoyance changing to boredom.

Joker took this as more of an invitation and crawled the rest of the way across the floor, plopping himself down right in front of Batman. "So tell me why you got so upset when I mentioned your
parents."

Batman glared at the Joker, looking down at him. *No violence.* He told himself. He forced himself to remain calm as he formulated a response. As he thought, he continued to stare the Joker down, hoping to catch a break and not have to answer.

Joker lifted one eyebrow, leaned back on his hands and stuck his legs out in front, running them by Batman at a slight angle. "So?"

*No such luck* Batman thought. At least he'd thought of a response. "Because I find Freudian psychobabble intolerably frustrating." He said. "Especially when babbled by a psycho."

Joker ran a hand through his messy hair and shook his head, frowning.. but looking as though he were deep in thought. "You.. you just don't know how to have fun, do you?"

"No," Batman said darkly.

"Want me to show you how Harley and I have fun?" Joker teased, more than fully expecting a growl, no response of a punch in the face.

"I'm not in the mood for checkers." Batman deadpanned, trying to stay distanced from what was going on.

"I wasn't talking about checkers..." Joker scooted a little closer, leaning against the wall that connected with Batman's, making the corner between them very, very small.

Batman was starting to get annoyed again. To try to vent just a little, he lifted his leg and pressed the bottom of his boot into the Joker's forehead, pinning him against the wall.

Joker was a little surprised - to say the least - and didn't move at first. Now that his head was tilted back, the weight of Batman's foot on his forehead, it was rather difficult to see the
bugger. "Damn you.." He reached up and ran a finger as far down Batman's leg as he could reach, giggling to himself. *That'll teach you...*

Batman leaned forward, increasing the pressure on Joker's head. For good measure, he dug his heel in a little. He wasn't going to lose this battle of wills this time. The Joker had almost pushed him to the edge, and now that he'd weathered that, a welcomed numbness had decended. He could do this.

This lack of response from Batman - and increased pressure on his forehead, which was painful - infuriated the Joker. He brought both hands up to the muscled leg, grasping it at the knee. His expression was different, now, however.. his nose flared slightly, his teeth were clenched and his eyes narrowed. It was most certainly an angry expression. Both hands ran lightly down Batman's thigh, able to reach further after Batman had moved.

Batman ignored the feeling of the Joker's hands on him. The expression on his opponent's face more than made up for it. "What's the matter, Joker?" He taunted, pushing back and straightening his leg out so that the Joker's hands slid further away. *Damn it, you're not supposed to be enjoying this,* A voice inside his head said. But it was so tempting to have a little fun at the Joker's expense.

Joker growled aggressively and tried sliding down the wall to get out from under Batman's foot. "Let me go," he grumbled, snarling afterward.

"But this is making me feel better." Batman mocked, pushing down with his leg, sliding the Joker further down the wall. *It shouldn't.* He told himself. But it did. SO much better. He felt back in control of the situation. . . and yet, part of him felt like he was rapidly losing control of the situation.

"Ohh.. well, then!" Joker spat, his voice scratchy with controlled fury. He turned his head to the side, trying to fake Batman out and get him to slip off of his forehead.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Batman asked, his voice a raspy growl as he continued to increase the downward pressure on the Joker's head.

Joker put out for another couple of seconds, pretending it wasn't bothering him.. but as he got nearer to the floor, the pain increased in his neck.. He whined softly and clenched his eyes, pushing at Batman's boot with his tired arms.

Batman watched the Joker squirm with sadistic fascination for a few seconds, forgetting for that time that it was actually his foot pressing down on the Joker's head. The Joker's whimpering finally snapped him out of it, and he shoved away from him, crossing the room, with the pretense of retrieving his cape. In truth, however, he was screaming at himself inside his head for allowing himself that indulgence.

Joker rubbed his forehead, leaning forward after Batman left. "That was interesting," he shot at the Dark Knight, watching him move to get his cape.

Batman's response was an indistinct growl, more animal than human. Couldn't that stupid clown shut up for two seconds?

Not quite finished with this game, despite what just happened, Joker stood up slowly, making sure to keep his injuries in mind. He leaned on the wall with one hand and then made his way around the cell toward Batman. "Now, see.. that wasn't quite what I had in mind, Guano Man. YOU made YOURSELF feel better.. I had no part in it." This was - more than anything - just because he really... just.. didn't.. know how to stop.

Batman's growl intensified. Even his body language had become feral. He just wanted the Joker to stay away. *Words. Too many words.* He thought. *What are you doing? Why aren't you thinking? Who ARE YOU?*

Damn that caterpillar. Damn the cat. Damn the March Hare and the Mock Turtle and the cards and the god-forsaken Mad Hatter he was locked in this cage with. Damn them all. He was damned, why shouldn't they be?

Joker moved forward, grinning madly. He knew very well what this was doing to Batman. It was making him uncomfortable. He dared to move in so close that his jacket brushed against the Bat's stomach. "So quiet..?"

Batman forced himself to straighten up, using every bit of the three inches he had on the Joker to his psychological advantage. He was not going to back down. Was not going to run again. What could the Joker really do to him? He didn't have a weapon. He couldn't go anywhere. He just had to stay calm. Just had to stop jumping at shadows and hearing things that weren't there. Arkham Asylum was just another building. Just another building. He leaned in toward the Joker slightly, willing his eyes to bore into his brain.

Joker swallowed against the rising unease in his throat. Deciding to be as vocal about this as possible, he whispered, "I hate it when you do that, darling." So very much was wrong about this whole situation... even he knew it... but he didn't care. All his natural instincts demanded that he cower, run away.. this thing before him was wild. But his maddened brain tugged in the other direction. Without really knowing he was doing it, he leaned forward, glaring up into the vaguely visible eyes.. right under that dark cowl.

Batman tilted his chin down, sealing away the face behind the mask. The movement was done so quickly, his cowl brushed the curl in the middle of the Joker's forehead.

Joker's facial expression slowly changed, turning into one of sickening curiosity. He reached up with his right hand and touched the side of Batman's face.. lightly with one finger.. He wanted to
ask why his nemisis hid under the cowl, but he restrained his voice in his throat.

The rumbling started again in the Dark Knight's throat. This time, he wasn't even aware of it. His lips curled in anger, revealing violently gritted teeth.

"Shut up," Joker demanded forcefully, settling his hand on Batman's shoulder. His eyes widened as he realized he'd just snapped at an already angry man with at least three times his muscle mass. He slid his hand down a little and then lifted it off of the taller man's body, deciding to play it safe. But then... temptation surpassed reason as he touched Batman's belt a little. He'd never really had the chance to look at it before...

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Batman said slowly, methodically, through his teeth, which were seemingly fused together.

"Looking," Joker mumbled, pressing the middle square on Batman's belt. He furrowed his brows in concentration...

"Looking doesn't involve touching." Batman hissed, his teeth still an unmoving barrier.

"So?" the clown immediately responded, not even really thinking about consequences at this point. It was so very intriguing being this close to Batman.. and not in cuffs or being smashed into a wall. His other hand reached up to poke at the bat-sign on his foe's chest. "This is so cute," he mocked, bringing up Batman's earlier comment toward him.

The muscles in Batman's chest twitched, recoiling at the Joker's touch. *Should have worn the other suit,* He thought, regretting his choice to wear the thinner, less constricting version of the
Batsuit, in case he had to move fast. . . then again, the Joker might be dead if he had been any slower grabbing him on the stairs. He forced his breathing to stay even, even though the involuntary muscle contractions were making that hard.

Joker was thrilled that his hand hadn't been slapped away.. and that the Batman had yet to say anything in protest. His left hand came back up, poking his nemisis in the gut ever.. so.. softly. He
glanced upward, further tantalized by the neglect of movement. His right hand laid flat on Batman's chest, right over the signal. "Why did you put this on the suit? It only really matches the belt, sweetheart."

"YOU'RE giving ME fashion tips?" Batman grumbled, still frozen as if made of stone. He was afraid to move. If he moved, he'd lash out. If he lashed out, he'd kill the Joker. The whispers were telling him it was okay, but it wasn't okay. It wasn't. His shoulders were starting to ache, and his entire body was as tense as a coiled spring. But he was still in control. Still sane. But the whispers. The whispers were getting louder.

*He's wound up so tight he could snap any moment,* Joker thought to himself, cruelly enjoying the possibility. *Now.. to add a final touch...* He leaned in and pressed his body to Batman's, standing up as tall as he could make himself appear. His left hand - the one lingering near Batman's belt - snaked around the thick waist in front of him, pressing his hand into the small of Batsy's back. "Fashion tips come best from those with a fashion sense," Joker snarled under his breath, lifting one side of his mouth - and nose - slightly higher in a seductive-like manner.

Batman's body started to violently shove the Joker away of it's own accord. He managed to stop himself. . . barely. . . just as he'd dug his hands into the Joker's upper arms. He closed his eyes behind the cowl and took a few breaths, his fingers twitching against the fabric of the Joker's suit. His ears were ringing. His head felt like it was going to explode. His back was burning where the Joker was touching him. With painful slowness, he started to move his hands down the Joker's arms. He could feel himself breaking into a sweat as he fought to slowly, calmly and slowly, disentangle himself from the Joker's clutches.

Joker tensed up immediately, his eyes closing in a heartbeat. But the hands around his arms loosened all of a sudden.. *So he's going to play this the calm way... might as well take advantage of it..* His left hand hooked itself into Batman's back, his gloved fingers digging into the other man's spine. "I'm not letting go, dearest Bats.." His right hand snatched up a handful of cape, pulling it forward so that he kept himself as close as possible. "I told you I was going to make you feel better.. and I mean to keep my promise."

"Let. Go." Batman growled between heavy breaths. His hands had curled up like claws again, threatening to pop the tendons in the Joker's elbows. With extreme effort, he tried to hit the nerves running down the Joker's arms that would forced his hands to release. Trigger points. Technique. Strategy. These were the things that held his sanity together. His expertise was his lifeline. In times like this, he clung to it.

The clown's fingers suddenly went loose in response to Batman's move. Joker winced and clenched his teeth, glancing upward into Batman's eyes. *Almost got 'im! Take advantage of this! Get him stirred!* In an act of desperation, his body surged forward. The purple-suited man ground his hips forward into Batman's, touching his nemisis where he would never have imagined before tonight. He wanted some kind of affirmation that what he was doing had some kind of affect.. he waited the next few instants to see if he'd get it, progressively increasing the pressure.

The Bat, the Monster, surged within him. The child, the victim, screamed and hid away. Bruce Wayne's consciousness shattered, and for a moment, Batman was not aware of what he was doing.

With an inhuman roar, he seized the Joker by the throat and lifted him as high into the air as he could. He would break him. Breaking him would make it stop.

The noises. The whispers. The pain. The hate.

His shoulders tensed and his face twisted into a maddened grin. Yes. This was the moment. It would all be over. So soon. All he had to do was squeeze, or smash the Joker's frail body to the ground. He was responsible. He was the reason his parents were dead. His mind was broken. His world was shattered.

He was his own tormentor. His antagonist. . . and. . . his friend? Hadn't he said that? His BEST friend? Batman blinked, and suddenly, all of the strength drained from his body. He dropped the Joker weakly as his legs gave out and he fell against the plexiglass window that had sealed him in this prison only a short time ago. He wanted to die. It wasn't the Joker he was fighting here. It was himself. And he wasn't sure that he hadn't just lost.

Joker gasped on the ground, coughing through vicious curses. But his plan had worked. He'd MADE the Batman hurt him. He'd broken his arch enemy's resolve and torn into his brain. He'd opened up the Bat and stared right inside. And what he saw exhilarated him. It thrilled him to the bone and left him stunned and aching for more. Such rage.. such a beast hidden under that cowl. And then... there was that moment that a flash of horror passed over the Batman's expression... it was that Joker was most intrigued by. That alone made him get up on his knees and turn to the hardened figure against the plexiglass window. He wiped the trail of blood off of his chin and swallowed against the coppery taste in his mouth. He silently came up behind Batman and rested a hand on his shoulder. The green eyes of madness were trained to the glass, however.. where he could see the face of the man that had nearly killed him moments ago.

With a whimper, Batman slid down to the floor and curled into a fetal position, hugging his stomach and partially hiding under his cape. The floor was cold. It was a comforting sensation. He was vaguely aware of the Joker's presence, but found he didn't care that he was there.

*So this is my victory,* Joker thought to himself, staring wide-eyed down at Batman. He was in awe of the way things had turned out. *I may pay for this all later when I return to my lair... but I've never felt so more electrified in my LIFE!* He slowly, cautiously went down to sit by the Bat, leaning sideways off of his legs so that his hip touched the floor. *He looks so... fragile.. I could break him with a touch.* That touch came right afterward. He pulled off his gloves and tossed them aside, quickly shedding himself of his jacket as well. They would hinder him. His right hand - slender and slightly colder than a normal man's skin - caressed Batman's face slowly, moving down from forehead to chin, staying clear of his eyes or mouth.

Someone was touching him. Who? He couldn't remember. He knew he'd known a moment ago, but nothing mattered any more. It wasn't hurting him. It felt. . . comforting. Cold, like the floor. Cold. Safe. Solid. Batman's head twitched toward the Joker's hand, seeking any sort of comfort. He didn't understand how he'd ended up on the street, under a flickering street lamp. It was snowing. There were people on the ground with him. His parents. His parents were here. And someone else, touching him. But it wasn't hurting. He opened his eyes to see who it was, but everything was still dark.

Joker leaned down and pressed his forehead against Batman's, slowly lowering his body down to the floor. Something was seriously wrong with his friend's mentality. And though it was satisfying, it was disturbing as well. He scooted in toward the cowering form of his long-time playmate and studied the look on his face. *Perfect,* was the only thing coming to mind. "I love our little game," he whispered into Batman's ear. "I love the way we canter around Gotham. The way we spin in loops of insanity. You." For one of the first times this evening, he was being as serious as humanly possible... and he shuddered with the realization of what had just passed between his lips. Without thinking, he nuzzled in closer and did the unthinkable. He pressed his mouth to Batman's, letting the moment last a few seconds before pulling away. So what if he didn't remember any of this tomorrow? Joker was living in the moment, feeling his mind folding out into hundreds of other thoughts.

Everything was becoming so confusing. Everyone was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be dead. This is where things were supposed to end. Lying on the hard, cold ground. But it wasn't ending. Bruce couldn't understand why. But someone was still alive, someone other than him. And they were talking. And they were getting closer. They loved him. He felt something touch his lips.

A kiss? Why? Because they loved him. That's what you did when you loved someone. His bottom lip trembled as he tried to respond as he felt he should, but he was too weak. By the time he could respond, it was over, and he still didn't understand. He tried to move his head to stop the person from pulling away, to avoid losing the only link he had to the world, but he only moved a little. But someone loved him. Someone who wasn't dead. The thought made him want to laugh, to cry, to do anything but lie there. He wanted to see again. To live again. He wanted to understand again.

He could do this. He could go on. His parents were dead. The people who loved him were dead. But there was someone else too. Someone he hadn't known about. Who? Light started returning to his eyes. He could see colors again.

Green. The color green. It was like being reborn. The images started to focus, to take shape. Soon he would understand. Would know the face of his saviour, the one who brought him back from the brink of self-annihilation. And everything would be okay.

The Caliph of Clowns was taken aback by the response in Batman's subtle movement. He wanted to return the kiss..? His steady hand once more rested on the face of his friend, though it was more confident this time. A gentle thumb pulled across the quivering lip of his favorite enemy as he used the other hand to reach upward. For what..? Only when his fingers reached fabric did he realize he was pulling the cape down over them, blanketing them in darkness and warmth. He let out a soft sigh - one of relief and of exhaustion - before moving in to reclaim Batman's lips. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows, pressing his body against the large one once more... but this time it was a kind movement. One of caring and a strange kind of committment. His idle hand slid around Batman's waist, holding him.

Bruce's mouth opened slightly as the Joker's thumb brushed his lips. The Joker? No. That was crazy. The Joker wouldn't be. . .There was a rustling, and things went dark again. No! He wanted to see! He wanted the light to come back! No more darkness!

He was just starting to panic when he was taken by another kiss, and a warmth spread through his body. It was dark, but he didn't need to see anymore. He knew all he needed to know. Part of his mind was shrieking, screaming, pleading with him to stop. This was sick! This was wrong! This was madness!

But in the Wonderland that was Arkham Asylum, everyone was mad. Nonesense WAS sense. Fight it, and off with your head. His eyes adjusted to the new darkness, and he caught a glimpse of white. The rabbit? Yes. The rabbit had led him in here. They'd tumbled down the rabbit hole, passed through the looking glass, and had played a game. It was all a game.

Or was it the white roses? He'd painted them red. Yes he had. Warm, flowing, sticky red. He'd felt it on his hands.

Messy messy. Joker had gotten it in his mouth. That was funny. Joker was funny. Joker was close. Very close. He'd woken him up from a very bad dream, or at least he was going to, very soon.

But Joker was cold. So cold. Dead people were cold.

Was Joker dying? Yes. He'd remembered the worry he'd felt. It was his fault. He'd ruined everything. And Joker had promised to make it better, and he had.

So now it was his turn to make things better. His turn to bring the Joker back to life. And Joker had taught him just how to do that. It was simple. Just make him feel warm again.

Joker was a good teacher. And it was time to end the story.

Batman reached out and brushed a few stray hairs from the Joker's cheek, studying the face that, even in the blackness they'd descended into, was just barely visible. He could see how he'd hurt
him.

Make it better, Bruce. Make it all better.

He pressed his hand against the Joker's cheek, gently, ever so gently. Now all he had to do was lean in, and give the Joker back some warmth. . .

* * * * *
END