What Happens in Arkham...Part 8
Title: What happens in Arkham Part 8
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R
Summary: Bruce Wayne goes to Arkham in search of The Joker's Secrets and Identity and ends up with more then he bargined for.
Warnings: Slash, Violence, Swearing, Sex(Later)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no profit is being made here. Batman and the Joker do not belong to me or my co-author.
Author's Note: This is a RP run story between me and my co-author knives99 . Knives plays Joker and Gordon while I play Bruce/Batman and Alfred.
The scene was absolute devastation to Ms. Cindy Crawford. She was only a daytime nurse and didn’t think someone was insane enough to do the amount of damage that was done. Blood and bodies littered the hall leading all the way to that one door they told her never to bother with. She almost slipped on blood as she walked towards it. Laughter and screaming ringing in her ears. When she took a step into the broken hall way her senses left her. The last thing her rational mind could make out was body parts and blood.…and that man. The man with those ugly scars…
---
In a week, the bruises had all but faded, his finger set in place and healing, if not slowly. Batman hadn't been seen that week. And Alfred suggested that Bruce Wayne announce a time off from Wayne Enterprises as well, but that was pushing it.
He got up every morning, did his work outs, called Arkham and then was sent off by Alfred to any event that would keep Bruce's mind off everything but the evenings entertainment. It worked, most of the time. When he got home though, he picked apart every conversation he’d had with the Joker. Looking for where it started, where things had changed. And he still couldn't figure out what they'd become.
Alfred was happy, that was good. At least someone was.
The phone rang loud and a grim air filled the room as its bell rang and rang. Calling for Mister Bruce Wayne. The Caller ID reading Gotham Police.
Bruce stared at if after Alfred had failed to get to it before him. His stomach coiled into tense knots because there was a very short list of reasons they would be calling him. Bruce picked up the receiver in time to see Alfred come around the corner with a look of question. Bruce held his hand up for Alfred to wait as he spoke into the phone. "Bruce Wayne.”
"Mr. Wayne. It’s Commissioner Gordon. I don't think you've seen the news today have you?" He asked trying to sound urgent enough to want to make Bruce turn on his TV.
'No, no, no, no.' His mind chanted as the knots tightened. If Gordon was calling him it was something he didn't want to hear.
He made a frantic motion to Alfred towards his television and the butler quickly saw to it while Bruce slipped into a charming, unaffected tone. "I'm afraid not, Commissioner. I've been a bit busy. How can I help you today?"
"Well The headline today is ' Slaughter at Arkham'." He began informing Bruce of the Joker and the Casualties. Then the information gathered that Bruce had been visiting the Joker and so on. "Want to tell me what’s going on?" The explained a horrid tale of slaughter of patients, doctors, nurses, and orderlies all about the asylum and the one most important missing patient that wasn’t accounted for.
---
He walked around in the cheap uniform that stupid bimbo had on and made his way about. Walking calmly, Making sure not to attract any attention to himself or people around him. Last thing he wanted was to turn around and go back. When Batsy was out there waiting for him. A burning in his mind made him pause where he thought he was going. Wasn’t he going to hide? Jack be nimble! Jack be quick!
“Bruce..” He whispered.
That liar. No, for once Batman would have to wait. It was good to get all his frustration out on some pitiful people before he went after his other side. Bruce Wayne was going to get it. He had gotten too close and had become too big of a distraction. No one knew anything but him. He stared to run and make his way to the Narrows for a much needed make over and refresher.
---
Bruce sat down heavily as he held the phone to his ear, the news verifying what Gordon had said. "I...the doctor, the one in charge of the Joker's case. He was an old friend of the family. I just needed to see the man who killed Rachel Dawes. I didn't..." But the words stuck in his throat. He'd gone there to help Gordon, as Batman. This was his fault. "I'm sorry." But Gordon would never understand the true meaning behind Bruce Wayne's words.
"I see. I'm sorry if…I've brought you grief over this old friend’s death or over the Joker's escape. I think I should leave you to your thoughts for now. I'll be there to interview you about your recent events with the Joker tomorrow and let you rest over all of this. Just understand your input will be important." Gordon wished him good night and hung up.
Bruce let the phone fall back onto the receiver a little numbly as Alfred walked over to him.
"Don't say it." The old butler said instantly, it didn't stop him.
"It's my fault, Alfred."
"You can't blame yourself for every single thing this madman does. Especially this." Alfred insisted.
Bruce shook his head. "I promised him. And I took a holiday instead."
Alfred's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You needed time, Master Bruce."
Bruce flinched. After the first day or two away from Arkham he'd told the one man he trusted with everything the whole story. Even the gritty little details. It was either that or Bruce would have to check himself in with all that insanity. It had been a turbulent day and he'd allowed the rare angry shouts from his guardian and friend to break over him. But they both knew it didn't change the way Bruce had been affected or how he felt.
"I needed to keep my promise, Alfred." He said finally.
Alfred shook his head sadly. "Not at the cost of your own sanity."
Bruce pursed his lips. "No, just at his. He was comatose the last time I checked in on him, he'd gotten violent again before that. I pushed him to this and now I have to take care of it." He said the last part hesitantly as he stood and headed for the panel in his bedroom.
"Are you doing this for Rachel or the Joker?" It made Bruce stop in his tracks, he couldn't speak. There was sharpness to Alfred's voice that cut him. They'd both loved Rachel in their own ways, but no less strongly then the other. "Something about you has changed, Master Bruce. I don't know if it's for good or ill but when you face that man, you face him as Batman, not as Bruce Wayne. Don't lose anymore people you love because you confuse the two."
Bruce turned to Alfred in confusion but he only saw the butlers back as he walked away.
---
Who was stupid to not have a safety net wherever they went? Not the Joker. The room was old, musty, and stale but his spare things were all kept nice and tidy in the old broken down hotel in the Narrows. Everything the crazy man needed was in reach.
He got into a spare purple suit after spraying his hair green and then painted up his face again. A sigh as he stared at himself in the mirror. Something felt different. He searched his reflections eyes before punching in the glass and grinding his leather incased hand into it.
Bruce.
“You’re a Bastard.” Joker spoke a loud to no one. The laughter so loud inside his head his head was aching.
---
Bruce moved the panel aside to reveal the emergency room. As he triggered the release to bring the batsuit up, he moved on to type furiously across the computer console, bringing up every news channel and police feed as he suited up. He needed to know where the Joker was. Pulling on the cowl last, he'd found no hint or movement pattern to the kills. He slaughtered most of Arkham and then simply disappeared.
He turned to leave when footage from some callous new station showed the paramedics zipping up a morgue bag containing the Joker's dead doctor.
“Looks like we were both wrong,”
Climbing up to the buildings roof, Batman spread his cape and dove off into the night.
---
It didn’t take long for the orderly responsible for the Joker's overdose to come in to the morgue in a plastic bag too. The man had been violently carved up with a horrific smile and his body a mess of stab wounds. Yet the Joker made no other moves that night. It was like he was a shadow. Not stopping to leave evidence of his next destination. Last thing he wanted if for Batman to follow him to see Bruce.
No. Oh no. No interruptions. This night was going to go off without a hitch if he could help it. The only thing that could possibly stand out was that horrible pain in his head and the continuous nervous laughter escaping him.
---
Batman found Gordon in the morgue with the bodies from Arkham, face stony under the cowl. He stood out like death amongst the white walls and sterile tables. Bruce could put a face, if not a name to each body lying out with the Joker's bloody signature all over their deaths. His jaw set as his eyes fell on the last one.
"Who was he?" He asked in a gravely rasp.
"Apparently when Joker was in the hospital this guy tried to do him in. Gave him an overdose of sedatives once the Joker made a crack about the hospital he'd blown away a few months back." He stared over the body and sighed," I can't see much of anyone else besides you he would want to kill now. He must have a pool filled with blood by now.."
Batman moved forward to take in the details of this kill but Bruce flinched. The man had a sister, a survivor of the Joker's first reign of terror. Bruce getting him fired might have postponed his death, but not stopped it.
"Are there any sightings yet?"
“No. He's being extra careful not to leave a trail. I'm guessing he is on foot or car swapping."
Batman nodded before moving towards the door, the bodies here won’t do anything but weigh on his guilt. "I'll keep in touch if I find anything. You know how to reach me."
"Where do you plan to go?"
He stopped to look at Gordon, his eyes hard, mouth in a thin line. It was either be cold or spout endless apologies to Jim. He couldn't do that.
"The Narrows, abandoned buildings. Any of the places the Joker might choose as a hideout. You should have your officers looking for him out of make-up too. Right now it's the easiest way for him to move around."
---
It was late into the night when he arrived at Wayne’s pent house. The Security was tight but not so tight the Joker couldn’t work his way inside. It gave him a little thrill when the idea of NO ONE BEING SAFE came into his warped mind. Now he caught the Butler up making a late night snack. He was actually a small challenge to subdue but he got the old geezer tied up nice and tight.
He made his way around looking for that special room of the house that Bruce was defenseless in. Or at least made sense to be unexpecting the Joker to be in. The bedroom.
The room was so big and as was the bed. A small purr escaped him and he walked over to it after tossing his jacket on to a chair and laid back on it. Blood was leaking from his hand. He wiped it on the pillows and laughed.
---
He spent hours in the Narrows, searching every rat hole and warehouse until the sky started to lighten. But there was no sign of the Joker, Batman was furious; Bruce felt his stomach pitch and roll. It was only going to be a matter of time now.
He returned to the penthouse using an entrance from the roof to descend down into the secret room to take off the suit and scrub the black greasepaint from around his eyes. He needed to sleep, but he was terrified at the idea of closing his eyes tonight, not wanting to know what the morning would bring. Then he stepped out into his bedroom as the door slid back into place behind him and stopped in his tracks.
Usually no one got the drop on the Joker so easily. Yet leave to Bruce to have some fucking secret study or panic room to hang out in. He was lounged on the far side of the bed playing with his best knife. He licked his bottom lip and smiled,” Hello Brucie...Remember me?”
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R
Summary: Bruce Wayne goes to Arkham in search of The Joker's Secrets and Identity and ends up with more then he bargined for.
Warnings: Slash, Violence, Swearing, Sex(Later)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no profit is being made here. Batman and the Joker do not belong to me or my co-author.
Author's Note: This is a RP run story between me and my co-author knives99 . Knives plays Joker and Gordon while I play Bruce/Batman and Alfred.
The scene was absolute devastation to Ms. Cindy Crawford. She was only a daytime nurse and didn’t think someone was insane enough to do the amount of damage that was done. Blood and bodies littered the hall leading all the way to that one door they told her never to bother with. She almost slipped on blood as she walked towards it. Laughter and screaming ringing in her ears. When she took a step into the broken hall way her senses left her. The last thing her rational mind could make out was body parts and blood.…and that man. The man with those ugly scars…
---
In a week, the bruises had all but faded, his finger set in place and healing, if not slowly. Batman hadn't been seen that week. And Alfred suggested that Bruce Wayne announce a time off from Wayne Enterprises as well, but that was pushing it.
He got up every morning, did his work outs, called Arkham and then was sent off by Alfred to any event that would keep Bruce's mind off everything but the evenings entertainment. It worked, most of the time. When he got home though, he picked apart every conversation he’d had with the Joker. Looking for where it started, where things had changed. And he still couldn't figure out what they'd become.
Alfred was happy, that was good. At least someone was.
The phone rang loud and a grim air filled the room as its bell rang and rang. Calling for Mister Bruce Wayne. The Caller ID reading Gotham Police.
Bruce stared at if after Alfred had failed to get to it before him. His stomach coiled into tense knots because there was a very short list of reasons they would be calling him. Bruce picked up the receiver in time to see Alfred come around the corner with a look of question. Bruce held his hand up for Alfred to wait as he spoke into the phone. "Bruce Wayne.”
"Mr. Wayne. It’s Commissioner Gordon. I don't think you've seen the news today have you?" He asked trying to sound urgent enough to want to make Bruce turn on his TV.
'No, no, no, no.' His mind chanted as the knots tightened. If Gordon was calling him it was something he didn't want to hear.
He made a frantic motion to Alfred towards his television and the butler quickly saw to it while Bruce slipped into a charming, unaffected tone. "I'm afraid not, Commissioner. I've been a bit busy. How can I help you today?"
"Well The headline today is ' Slaughter at Arkham'." He began informing Bruce of the Joker and the Casualties. Then the information gathered that Bruce had been visiting the Joker and so on. "Want to tell me what’s going on?" The explained a horrid tale of slaughter of patients, doctors, nurses, and orderlies all about the asylum and the one most important missing patient that wasn’t accounted for.
---
He walked around in the cheap uniform that stupid bimbo had on and made his way about. Walking calmly, Making sure not to attract any attention to himself or people around him. Last thing he wanted was to turn around and go back. When Batsy was out there waiting for him. A burning in his mind made him pause where he thought he was going. Wasn’t he going to hide? Jack be nimble! Jack be quick!
“Bruce..” He whispered.
That liar. No, for once Batman would have to wait. It was good to get all his frustration out on some pitiful people before he went after his other side. Bruce Wayne was going to get it. He had gotten too close and had become too big of a distraction. No one knew anything but him. He stared to run and make his way to the Narrows for a much needed make over and refresher.
---
Bruce sat down heavily as he held the phone to his ear, the news verifying what Gordon had said. "I...the doctor, the one in charge of the Joker's case. He was an old friend of the family. I just needed to see the man who killed Rachel Dawes. I didn't..." But the words stuck in his throat. He'd gone there to help Gordon, as Batman. This was his fault. "I'm sorry." But Gordon would never understand the true meaning behind Bruce Wayne's words.
"I see. I'm sorry if…I've brought you grief over this old friend’s death or over the Joker's escape. I think I should leave you to your thoughts for now. I'll be there to interview you about your recent events with the Joker tomorrow and let you rest over all of this. Just understand your input will be important." Gordon wished him good night and hung up.
Bruce let the phone fall back onto the receiver a little numbly as Alfred walked over to him.
"Don't say it." The old butler said instantly, it didn't stop him.
"It's my fault, Alfred."
"You can't blame yourself for every single thing this madman does. Especially this." Alfred insisted.
Bruce shook his head. "I promised him. And I took a holiday instead."
Alfred's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You needed time, Master Bruce."
Bruce flinched. After the first day or two away from Arkham he'd told the one man he trusted with everything the whole story. Even the gritty little details. It was either that or Bruce would have to check himself in with all that insanity. It had been a turbulent day and he'd allowed the rare angry shouts from his guardian and friend to break over him. But they both knew it didn't change the way Bruce had been affected or how he felt.
"I needed to keep my promise, Alfred." He said finally.
Alfred shook his head sadly. "Not at the cost of your own sanity."
Bruce pursed his lips. "No, just at his. He was comatose the last time I checked in on him, he'd gotten violent again before that. I pushed him to this and now I have to take care of it." He said the last part hesitantly as he stood and headed for the panel in his bedroom.
"Are you doing this for Rachel or the Joker?" It made Bruce stop in his tracks, he couldn't speak. There was sharpness to Alfred's voice that cut him. They'd both loved Rachel in their own ways, but no less strongly then the other. "Something about you has changed, Master Bruce. I don't know if it's for good or ill but when you face that man, you face him as Batman, not as Bruce Wayne. Don't lose anymore people you love because you confuse the two."
Bruce turned to Alfred in confusion but he only saw the butlers back as he walked away.
---
Who was stupid to not have a safety net wherever they went? Not the Joker. The room was old, musty, and stale but his spare things were all kept nice and tidy in the old broken down hotel in the Narrows. Everything the crazy man needed was in reach.
He got into a spare purple suit after spraying his hair green and then painted up his face again. A sigh as he stared at himself in the mirror. Something felt different. He searched his reflections eyes before punching in the glass and grinding his leather incased hand into it.
Bruce.
“You’re a Bastard.” Joker spoke a loud to no one. The laughter so loud inside his head his head was aching.
---
Bruce moved the panel aside to reveal the emergency room. As he triggered the release to bring the batsuit up, he moved on to type furiously across the computer console, bringing up every news channel and police feed as he suited up. He needed to know where the Joker was. Pulling on the cowl last, he'd found no hint or movement pattern to the kills. He slaughtered most of Arkham and then simply disappeared.
He turned to leave when footage from some callous new station showed the paramedics zipping up a morgue bag containing the Joker's dead doctor.
“Looks like we were both wrong,”
Climbing up to the buildings roof, Batman spread his cape and dove off into the night.
---
It didn’t take long for the orderly responsible for the Joker's overdose to come in to the morgue in a plastic bag too. The man had been violently carved up with a horrific smile and his body a mess of stab wounds. Yet the Joker made no other moves that night. It was like he was a shadow. Not stopping to leave evidence of his next destination. Last thing he wanted if for Batman to follow him to see Bruce.
No. Oh no. No interruptions. This night was going to go off without a hitch if he could help it. The only thing that could possibly stand out was that horrible pain in his head and the continuous nervous laughter escaping him.
---
Batman found Gordon in the morgue with the bodies from Arkham, face stony under the cowl. He stood out like death amongst the white walls and sterile tables. Bruce could put a face, if not a name to each body lying out with the Joker's bloody signature all over their deaths. His jaw set as his eyes fell on the last one.
"Who was he?" He asked in a gravely rasp.
"Apparently when Joker was in the hospital this guy tried to do him in. Gave him an overdose of sedatives once the Joker made a crack about the hospital he'd blown away a few months back." He stared over the body and sighed," I can't see much of anyone else besides you he would want to kill now. He must have a pool filled with blood by now.."
Batman moved forward to take in the details of this kill but Bruce flinched. The man had a sister, a survivor of the Joker's first reign of terror. Bruce getting him fired might have postponed his death, but not stopped it.
"Are there any sightings yet?"
“No. He's being extra careful not to leave a trail. I'm guessing he is on foot or car swapping."
Batman nodded before moving towards the door, the bodies here won’t do anything but weigh on his guilt. "I'll keep in touch if I find anything. You know how to reach me."
"Where do you plan to go?"
He stopped to look at Gordon, his eyes hard, mouth in a thin line. It was either be cold or spout endless apologies to Jim. He couldn't do that.
"The Narrows, abandoned buildings. Any of the places the Joker might choose as a hideout. You should have your officers looking for him out of make-up too. Right now it's the easiest way for him to move around."
---
It was late into the night when he arrived at Wayne’s pent house. The Security was tight but not so tight the Joker couldn’t work his way inside. It gave him a little thrill when the idea of NO ONE BEING SAFE came into his warped mind. Now he caught the Butler up making a late night snack. He was actually a small challenge to subdue but he got the old geezer tied up nice and tight.
He made his way around looking for that special room of the house that Bruce was defenseless in. Or at least made sense to be unexpecting the Joker to be in. The bedroom.
The room was so big and as was the bed. A small purr escaped him and he walked over to it after tossing his jacket on to a chair and laid back on it. Blood was leaking from his hand. He wiped it on the pillows and laughed.
---
He spent hours in the Narrows, searching every rat hole and warehouse until the sky started to lighten. But there was no sign of the Joker, Batman was furious; Bruce felt his stomach pitch and roll. It was only going to be a matter of time now.
He returned to the penthouse using an entrance from the roof to descend down into the secret room to take off the suit and scrub the black greasepaint from around his eyes. He needed to sleep, but he was terrified at the idea of closing his eyes tonight, not wanting to know what the morning would bring. Then he stepped out into his bedroom as the door slid back into place behind him and stopped in his tracks.
Usually no one got the drop on the Joker so easily. Yet leave to Bruce to have some fucking secret study or panic room to hang out in. He was lounged on the far side of the bed playing with his best knife. He licked his bottom lip and smiled,” Hello Brucie...Remember me?”