Love Thine Enemy: Part 6- Betrayal
In retrospect, Bruce knew he should’ve just been a man and gone back to the Batcave and seen him. He just...couldn’t. Crane’s diagnosis didn’t exactly make anything easier, if anything, he felt worse about this fucked up situation, and he needed time to think.
So he went on patrol, had dinner with a socialite he knew, then went out to a ballet. Bruce Wayne had his image to maintain, after all. When he got home, it was late, and he decided to just sleep. He’d go back in the morning.
The next day, he was busy with Alfred, setting up delivery dates for all the new furniture for Wayne Manor. Alfred had it well-organized and promised they would be in by the end of the week. There was still much to do, however.
Bruce helped him, so much that Alfred finally said. “Master Wayne, not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I am perfectly capable of doing this on my own. Why don’t you go and have some fun?”
“Sick of me already, Alfred?” Bruce asked wryly.
“No, but whatever you’re avoiding will not get easier by driving me to distraction.” Alfred told him.
So Bruce went and busied himself at Wayne Enterprises, where after a day, Lucius Fox told him basically the same thing that Alfred had. “Mr. Wayne, I appreciate your interest but...”
“I know. Get lost.”
“I would never say it that way, but...yes.”
Bruce decided a drive in the country was called for. He took his Jaguar and hit the road, driving fast and aimlessly, trying to clear his head. He knew the Joker would need help, but there was no one he trusted to give it to him, and he was so unpredictable now that Bruce knew he couldn’t count on him to behave if left alone for too long.
“Like the last 3 days...” he muttered to himself.
Slowly, he turned the car around and headed back to Gotham. He needed to face his demons; especially the one with the face of a clown.
Bruce knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the cave. It was quiet, and almost eerie inside. Like something watched, and waited for him. He moved silently toward the Joker’s apartments and his heart stopped when he realized that the door was ajar. How had he managed to get out?
He opened it, and walked inside. It was all as he had left it, except there was no Joker in it. It was dark, the only light coming from the bathroom. He walked toward it and pushed the door open slowly with his hand. The shower curtain was drawn, and he could see a figure inside.
His hand shook, he didn’t want to draw the curtain back, but he knew he had to. He slowly walked toward it and reached out, his hand grasping it and slowly pulling it back.
He stared, unable to move, unable to breathe.
“It’s not real...” he told himself, but he knew it was. This was his punishment for lying down with a madman.
The body dangled from the showerhead on a piece of ripped up towel. It’s body was bruised and bloody, its hands were tied, as were its legs. But the worst part was the face, it was so swollen from being hit that it was almost unrecognizable. The mouth was torn on either side, like a clown’s grimace.
But where his lover’s wounds were long healed, these were fresh, and still bleeding.
And the mouth belonged to his oldest friend.
Bruce sat in the hospital waiting room, his face blank. They had taken Alfred into surgery; it would be awhile before they knew anything. He’d given a statement to the police, telling them he’d found Alfred on the deserted Wayne Manor grounds, where he must’ve been attacked by thieves. The police nodded and were understanding when Bruce couldn’t remember the exact spot he’d found him, obviously the billionaire playboy was heavily traumatized by such violence.
It was hours later when the doctor came in. Alfred would recover, they had sewn up his mouth, the plastic surgeon didn’t think the scars would even show once he was finished with them. His internal injuries would take some time, and he was in a medically induced coma to aid in his healing.
Bruce nodded and shook the man’s hand. He also demanded and was given permission to have a security guard posted at all times. He didn’t want to take any chances.
Any more chances.
He rose and went into the room they’d moved Alfred into. The beeps and sounds of the machines were the only things that you could hear in the quiet room. He looked at Alfred’s battered body. Why had he gone to the Batcave? Probably looking for Bruce, who had stupidly tried to keep all this quiet from him. What had he thought when he realized that his young master was keeping his arch enemy as a plaything? How disappointed and disgusted he must’ve been.
How betrayed.
Bruce knew how betrayal felt. It ate at his guts, gnawed at his heart. He was going to make the Joker pay for this, and pay some more.
First, he had to find him.
In the darkness of the Batcave, the Joker was packing a few things. The Bat was long gone, carrying the old butler in his arms like some sort of princess he’d just rescued.
When the door had opened and the butler had stood there, staring blankly at him, he had thought he was imagining things. Then the man had spoken. “What in the bloody hell are you doing here?”
The Joker had smiled and rose.
“I should ask you the same question. My boyfriend likes to keep me under lock and key. He’s a little possessive, you know what he’s like.” He smiled charmingly.
“Why is he keeping you here?”
“To keep me where he can always get to me. To where he can always use my body...” the Joker licked his lips.
“You filthy liar!” the man’s voice was choked with rage.
“I’m not. Ask him!” the Joker snapped, his temper flaring. “See if he can lie to your face! He’s been fucking me for months. He loves it...and he hates himself for loving it, but he can’t get enough.”
“I don’t believe you!” but the man’s voice was suddenly wary.
“Believe this...Alfred. Bruce loves to kiss me, to suck me, to make me suck him...then he beats me, and thinks that makes it better, less like real people, more like monsters.”
Alfred kept shaking his head, and the Joker smiled, seeing his world collapsing around him. He rose slowly and smiled at the other man. “I guess you didn’t raise him right. He may date all those vapid bimbos but what he really likes to do is take that thick cock and push it up...”
“Shut your mouth!!” hollered the old man suddenly leaping forward to throttle the Joker.
That was what the other had been waiting for.
He wrestled with the older man, finally knocking him unconscious with a table leg that had broken off as they fell to the ground. Once the man was out of the game, it was time for the Joker to play, and he finally knew just how to make his lover so very sorry.
When Bruce had come in, the Joker had been hidden, but he had watched from the shadows, seeing the devastation, the agony on the Bat’s face. When Bruce had gone, taking the man with him, the Joker had come out, and began packing. It didn’t take long; it wasn’t like he needed much.
When he was done, he left, heading for Gotham City. He knew he could find his old henchman easily, and he had a dozen placed he could hide from the Bat’s vengeance.
As he walked he noticed a contentment in his soul, one that hadn’t been there since the Bat had left him alone for all that time in Arkham. He felt...healed, as though hurting the Bat like this made them even. His only regret was that now the Bat would be more interested in killing him that loving him.
But, what’d done is done, and maybe someday, he’d come around again. After all, the butler would probably live...
And the Joker’s step grew a little lighter and he started to hum a little tune as he walked.