Title: The Game We Play, Chapter 7 - State of Emergency

Author: Co-written by Jay Narra & Liana Kerzner

Rating: PG-13

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: At the hospital... Cooperation? What's that?


The Game We Play, Chapter 7 - State of Emergency
Co-written by Jay Narra & Liana Kerzner


A short while later...

Batman pulled up in front of the emergency entrance at Gotham General. A pair of paramedics on break, and a boy with a broken arm accompanied by his mother, stared slack-jawed at the car and the dark, imposing figure who emerged from it. The mother pulled her son into the building as one of the paramedics dropped his coffee.

"Mommy! That's B. . ." The child could be heard exclaiming as the sliding doors closed.

Batman glanced dismissively at the shocked paramedic and opened the passenger side door.

"We've got an audience." He muttered to the Joker as he carefully lifted him out of the car.

"So we have," Joker responded quietly, turning toward Batman in his arms and hiding his face in his 'friend's chest. The light of the ER section in the hospital was a little too bright.

"Holy shit!" The other paramedic was now beside himself. He'd been on clean up duty at one of the Joker's massacres. "Hey Batman! Did you kick his ass?! Cause you can gi. . ."

Batman snapped his head sideways and murderously glared the man into silence. He then carried the Joker into the hospital.

Joker made a mental note to kill that man later. As soon as this was over and he was on the streets again, he'd be back - and not in the Bat's possession. He'd be back with a nice syringe chock-full of 'joker-toxin.' A soft giggle escaped his lips at the thought of watching the paramedic die.

But when the temperature changed - as they entered the hospital - he grew quiet again. He had to admit he was slightly nervous about this. What if they refused to treat him? He was, afterall, a
psycopath.. and had claimed many lives in his years spent in Gotham. But then, another thought ran through his mind...

*Batman will make it better. He'll make it all better...*

The Dark Knight looked down at the Joker, ignoring the sudden dead quiet of the room. When the Joker giggled, it was never good, but a giggle was better than no noise at all.

All eyes were upon them, and it made him want to smack something. He didn't like being in bright rooms like this either.

The silence was broken by the little boy with the broken arm getting away from his mother and running over.

"Hi Batman." The boy said, his eyes wide with awe.

Batman looked down at the boy. He was probably about six. Of course. Why did they always have to be about that age? The child had his whole life, and so many cruelties ahead of him.

He gave the boy a slight nod. "Go back to your mom." He said. "I have work to do."

The boy nodded and ran back to his mother, gushing excitedly about Batman talking to him. At least he had a mother to run back to.

Batman carried the Joker through the waiting room and through a set of crash doors to the Emergency Room proper. One of the nurses halfheartedly attempted a "Sir, you can't go in there." but didn't seem to expect him to actually listen. He didn't.

He found an empty bed and settled the Joker down on it. Then he batcuffed him to the bed rail, more as a way of putting the staff at ease than anything. He grabbed the first doctor that came by. The obviously intimidated Latino man tried his best to remain professional.

"W-what seems to be the problem?" He asked.

"Internal injuries and a punctured lung," Batman stated. "Aggravated by an escape attempt from Arkham."

The doctor nodded and nervously approached the Joker.

"Okay Mister, um, Joker? Is it okay if I call you that?" He asked.

Joker ignored the doctor, turning to look at the wall instead of the obviously nervous and equally repulsive man. He fingered the cuffs a little, wriggling his hands as though trying to get out of them.

"Joker," Batman growled sternly. "I'm losing my patience."

The doctor stayed away, not wanting to get near the lunatic without permission. "Perhaps I should call Arkham Asylum."

"If I wanted an Arkham doctor looking after him, I'd have taken him to Arkham!" Batman snapped. "He probably requires surgery, which they didn't do this morning and probably won't do if he goes back there."

"O-okay." The cowed and cowering doctor said.

Joker smirked and looked up at Batman. "Mister J will be fine, doc." He settled onto the stretcher and closed his eyes, satisfied to hear what he wanted to from the Bat.

The doctor cautiously approached Joker and gingerly lifted up his shirt to examine his chest. "Oh my god," he gasped, pushing on the Joker's ribs, which shifted under his fingers. "What happened?"

Batman turned away, not able to look at his own handiwork. It's not like the Joker wouldn't have done the same to him -- he'd sustained a few cracked ribs at the Clown's hand. But he wasn't the Joker. He wouldn't LET himself be.

"Where does it hurt the most?" The doctor, whose hospital ID read Dr. Carlos Perez, asked.

"Where you're sticking your bony fingers!" Joker snapped, his eyes half-slitted in pain. He pulled at the handcuffs, his natural reaction being to curl up into a fetal position. "Bats.. you play rough.."

Batman didn't answer. He was watching a gunshot victim being brought in with morbid fascination.

"I see," Dr. Perez answered the Joker, glancing briefly over at Batman before turning back to his patient. "Are you coughing or urinating blood?"

"Not currently." Joker bared his teeth at the doctor, giggling at the immediate response he received. When the Bat turned to look, he would immediately quiet down again. As his giggles grew in intensity, a string of coughs filled his lungs and forced their way out.. and didn't stop for a good couple of minutes. A trickle of blood passed through his lips and trailed down his cheek.

The doctor had started backward and knocked a tray off the counter by the sink in the small emergency cubicle. Batman turned around to see what was causing the commotion, and the Joker's coughing. He gave the Joker a cold stare: he wasn't helping anything.

Joker smiled innocently up at Batman, batting his eyelashes several times. He puckered his lips and then coughed again, closing his eyes.

Batman's jaw clenched. Why did the Joker always have to be so infuriating?

"Well," Dr. Perez squeaked. "I'd like to take some X-rays. . ." He looked fearfully at the Joker. "If that's alright?"

"If I said 'no'... would you do it anyway?" Joker paused and then added, "Nevermind... I know the answer to that. Batsy would *make* you." He let out a soft moan in response to all the hacking he was doing. His throat was sore.. along with the tense muscles around his injuries.

"Okay, I'll do up the requisition, and I'll have a nurse come in the meantime to give you something for the pain." The doctor said, then made a quick exit.

Batman let a few seconds tick by before saying "You're not making things easier."

"I'm not trying to," Joker uttered calmly, not bothering to look up. He twisted his wrists around, wishing he weren't hand-cuffed down. "Is this for your own pleasure or are you just paranoid that a next-to-dead madman might get you...?"

"It's so you don't harm the people who are trying to help you," Batman replied with equal calm. "Now stop being stupid and let them help you."

Joker considered what Batman was telling him to do, pondering what might happen if he didn't do as ordered. But instead of simply letting the matter drop and be dealt with in an orderly fashion, he
cleared his throat and made an out-right dare. "If you can remember and TELL me what happened last night - right before you fell asleep -then I will cooperate and do anything you ask of me for the next couple of hours."

Batman knew the Joker was baiting him. Trying to make him angry. He had to be better than that. Stronger willed. Last night was not going to be repeated. He'd gone over things repeatedly, meticulously analyzing every detail until he was so numb that it felt like it had happened to someone else. . . mostly.

And seeing the hole blown in the wall at Arkham reminded him of the price of his mistakes.

He had a plan. It had come to him on the ride over to the hospital, when the Joker had gotten so angry at him countering his jokes. He had to trump him early. Not doing so, acting completely as the Joker expected him to, had been his mistake last night.

He pulled the curtain closed and approached the Joker. He leaned over him, shadowing the white face from the cold flourescent light above. Without a word, he kissed the Joker on the forehead, just long enough to make a solid 'I remember' point.

Joker's eyes rolled upward to look at Batman - or what he could see of him - with a surprised and more than amused expression. It widened his mouth at both sides, creating a sated grin.

After a meaningful pause, Batman moved away again, standing tall over the weakened lunatic.

The clown waited silently, his face serious, for Batman to say anything. And when he didn't, Joker spoke up. "I... think I asked for you to tell me. I want to hear you say it. I want you to acknoweledge it to me. The kiss was nice, but..." He lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

"Actions speak louder than words, don't they?" Batman asked, facing away from the Joker.

"No. Not this time, they don't." Joker frowned. "I want to hear you tell me that you touched me last night. I want you to admit to the actions you performed. To say them to my face." He would have kicked Batman in the back merely to get his attention, but decided against it. "Tell me."

"No. You've gotten all you're getting from me."

"Then you've received all YOU'll get from ME." Joker stared at the back of Batman's head angrily, waiting for him to do anything.. but mostly to turn and talk with him face-to-face.

"Fine!" Batman spat finally, his back still to the Joker. He only turned around when a nurse came in to set up a morphine drip.

"Hello," the perky brunette exclaimed to the Joker, a wide smile plastered forcefully on her face.

Frowning angrily, Joker refused to respond to the nurse. He merely watched as she prepared the drugs, recalling Batman's own administration of them just last night. He would play this the hard
way from this moment on. If Bats was going to be a pain in the ass.. then, dammit.. why couldn't he?

"Okay, Mister J." The nurse said pleasantly as she started feeling for a vein in his hand. "You're just going to feel a little prick, and we'll be all set, okay?"

Joker snickered and refrained from commenting. He tried his best not to watch as the nurse stuck the needle under his skin. It was always an uneasy feeling.. even after years of receiving medication this way. Off in his own thoughts, he wondered vaguely if Batman would be around for the evening. Or if he'd leave... abandon him like he had last night.

The nurse set up the drip. "There. Now just relax and someone will be by to take you to X-ray," she explained. She then dared to reach out and brush the Joker's hair away from where it had fallen over his eye.

Batman hoped that the Joker wouldn't do anything, but was ready in case he did.

Joker tensed. The first thought to cross his mind was about when Harley did that. He wasn't too sure he liked it very much, either. The second thought to follow immediately behind it was of when Batman had done that very same thing... while laying on the floor of Joker's cell.

Had Batman not been standing nearby, he might have reacted differently. But instead, he took the soothing gesture and bit down on his violent urges. He then realized that X-rays meant he would
have to change clothing. He wondered if they would even so much as let him do it himself.

"Well, you're not so scary." The nurse said with a smile. She set a hospital gown down on Joker's legs and patted him reassuringly. She glanced over at Batman and saw the furious look he was giving her.

"Well. . . Um. . . Not as scary as him, anyway." She was noticeably cowed and looking frightened, gathering her things quickly. As soon as she was all set, she exited the area, eager to be free of the dangerous atmosphere.

Joker waited until the nurse was out of the room and down the hallway before bothering to say anything. And when he did, it was a mocking statement. "I can see it now.. Batman: Lady's Man. Just look at the way she fawned over your charming personality." He grinned, pleased with himself, and watched Bats.

Batman ignored the Joker's statement and unlocked the side of the batcuffs that had been attached to the bed. "Get changed."

Joker sat up slowly, using his arms to stay propped up. It hurt, but he'd be damned to ask Batman for help. "Go away and sit in a corner or something. You make me sad the way you ignore what I have to say." He picked the gown up from off of his legs and made a face. "They really want me to wear this? Y'know, Bats.. I can't remember the last time I've been in a hospital. Well, to get
treated, that is. There was that one time I-..." He cut himself off. "Ah, I won't dwell on my past. Heh.. I don't think you want to think about that, anyway." He shook the gown out and looked at it a while longer before glancing around the room. "No changing area? Phooey.."

"Quit stalling," Batman demanded, glancing at a roll of medical tape. One more stupid comment and a generous portion was going across the Joker's mouth.

"Alright, already.." Joker pulled off the t-shirt provided by Harley and threw it at Batman. "If you insist on having me take my clothes off..." The words were said as drawn-out and valley-girlish as he could manage. He paused on the last word, shaking his head for emphasis and while raising his eyebrows.

Batman very calmly caught the t-shirt, twisted it up, and tied a knot in the middle of it. He then started tearing off lengths of tape and sticking the end on the counter top. The sound of the tape
ripping helped his mood immensely.

Joker tilted his head to the side, eyeing the pieces of tape on the counter. He wasn't too sure what his 'friend' was thinking, but he hoped it wasn't what he imagined. Carefully he began undoing his
slacks, working slowly to avoid the impending pain throughout his back. "Sheesh, Bats.." He searched for something to say that wouldn't sound like a plead for aid. The morphine began doing it's job, however, taking the edge off of his body's feelings. "Would you stop that racket, already? Bah! Say something!" He growled in a frustrated manner, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two eye slits on Batman's face.

Batman pulled out another strip of tape and tore it off agonizingly slowly. He forced himself not to smirk.

"What is WRONG with you?" Joker demanded, his eyes widening as his temper flared. He would get a word out of Batman if it were the last thing he did. Slowly he worked the pants off of his body, whipping them aside before jerking himself off of the bed... and right down onto the floor in a heap of crippled fury.

Batman rolled his eyes behind the cowl. He calmly set down the tape and walked over to where the Joker had landed on the floor and stood over him.

Joker immediately reached out, snatching up a handful of cape in his ghastly white fingers. "I just... want you to talk to me," he hissed, pulling at it. He was lucky the morphine drip hadn't been torn out - it was barely long enough so that it reached.

"Why?" Batman figured that one word wouldn't hurt.

Joker gathered what strength he could muster, took in a deep breath and spat a mixture of bloody saliva onto Batman's left foot.

Batman forced himself to stay calm. Not to be outdone, he calmly lifted his foot and wiped his boot off in the Joker's hair.

To say he was disgusted would be to undergauge the Joker's feelings toward Batman. His throat tightened in response to the maddeningly disrespectful response he'd received. He couldn't hurt the bastard right now - that much was certain. But... what was stopping himself from doing the opposite? Nothing.

Joker pressed his hand into his chest, forcing his ribs to shift as he intensified the pressure. "The... rules..." he gasped, "are... going to.. uhhnn... change!"

Batman dropped to his knees and pushed the Joker's hands away, forcing them behind his back.

"I'm not worth that, Joker," he hissed. He said it without really thinking it through, except hoping that it would make the lunatic stop.

"You don't understand," Joker responded, winded from the excruciating experience. "You are." The words stung his lips as they passed through, knocking him momentarily off of his sense of
pride. "I thought.. we understood each other.. after.. after last night. Didn't I tell you what it is to gather your attention?"

"How do I know you weren't lying?" Batman responded, searching the Joker's deformed face for any clue.

"Isn't it enough for me to have said it?" Joker countered, raising his eyes to meet with Batman's. It was the first time he'd ever been in an area light enough to notice the color behind the cowl... a
gorgeous and startling blue. He gawked at the color, registering it and storing the sight into his mind forever.

"That's the difference between us." Batman grumbled, sounding disappointed. "I care about the truth."

"I can tell you I care about it right now... because I want to hear it from you." Joker ran his left through his curls, trying to move them away from his eyes. "Do I need to tell you again what I said last night?"

"No." Batman said quickly.

"Why not?" Joker prompted. He reached out to touch Batman's hand.. the one propping up the man's frame.

"I remember." Batman growled. "Now do you need help off the floor or not?"

"No. I may as well stay here. That way you can step on my head or kick me in the gut if you like." Joker frowned and laid down on the cold hospital floor. "I wish you weren't so difficult."

"I'll take that as a yes." Batman said. He started to gingerly move Joker out from under the lip of the table.

Joker let out a long sigh, cooperating but not helping any. He allowed his adversary to move him, leaning his weight into Batman's body when he was lifted from the floor. "Not in the mood for beating me senseless?"

The Dark Knight didn't dignify that with a response. He settled the Joker back on the table just in time for the nurse to come in.

"Okay, Mr. . . Um. . . Joker?" She said. "We're going to take you for x-rays. . . D-did you hit your head?" She pointed at the blood in his hair.

"Yeah," Joker lied, averting his eyes from Batman. "I fell..." He glanced at the batcuffs attached to his right wrist, hoping the nurse wouldn't notice.. and run off screaming. *That actually could
hold potential amusement,* he thought quickly.

"That's no good," The nurse muttered with expected condension. "Let's get you cleaned up then." She started for the sink.

Joker waited for her to return, laying back down onto the bed. The large blur of blackness out of the corner of his eyes called to him... nearly begged him to turn and look. He resisted the urge,
however, finally settling on just hiding his eyes behind drawn lids.

The nurse returned with a wet cloth and wiped the blood out of the Joker's hair. Her expression became puzzled.

"That's funny. . ."

"X-rays. Now." Batman interrupted.

The nurse swallowed hard and took the brake off the Joker's stretcher.

"Oooooh... we're going for a ride!" Joker giggled, shooting a glare over toward Batman. *Dammit! I gave in!* he swore mentally.

Batman followed as the nurse wheeled the Joker into the X-ray room.

"Now if we could just get you on the table." She said to the Joker.

"Sure, lady.. if you think you can lift me!" Joker slapped her on the shoulder, two quick chuckles breaking the safe feeling of the room.

The nurse jumped away, looking frightened.

"I'll do it." Batman said, glaring at the Joker as he came toward him.

"*I'm* difficult?" He muttered.

Joker nodded, closing his eyes in a very prideful fashion. After the Batman laid his hands on him, he looked back up, peering at the cowl for signs of life. "You sure you can handle touching me, Batboy?"

Again, Batman didn't dignify that with an answer. He moved the Joker onto the table, and retreated to the doorway.

"Okay then. Hold still," the shaken nurse directed. She went into the adjacent room to calibrate the machine.

After many threats, pushes of buttons and battles of wills, the nurse finally gave up, and Batman was forced to cuff the Joker down. It appeared that the morphine was doing a little more than soothing his pain. The last X-ray finally came out right and had been taken during a brief moment when the Joker had paused to say something. As the door opened from both sides again, he found himself laughing as hard as he could. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the pain returned, but still, he continued the hideously obnoxious string of bemused laughter.

The sound rang through the small space and seeped into the hallway, chilling all passing doctors and patients alike.

*

After the X-rays were completed and taken off to be examined, the Joker was put under and wheeled into an operating room to receive the medical attention he needed. Batman was directed to wait outside but anyone there knew with one look that he wasn't going to listen. He, instead, entered the OR and kept a close eye on the things happening, a dark, ominous figure silently reminding the surgeons that they'd better not screw up. There was a choking sense of guilt in his chest the whole three hours it took for the doctors to finish. And when they had finally completed the task, the Joker was still listed in critical condition.

*
END