Batjokes Week - Day 4: Marked/Scarred

Once Batman reached the Joker's cell he told the guards stationed there to leave. Both men looked to one another, grinning. They probably thought he was there to beat the living hell out of the lunatic just as they had the past few days. It made Bruce sick letting those scum walk away after all the abuse they put the Joker through. Yes he himself did beat up criminals; he's broken bones and at times left some in body casts. Those men beat the Joker out of some sick and twisted delight; he did it to stop the clowns killing sprees and murderous rampages. Also, when his opponent could no longer fight back or was unconscious the Batman stopped, those men and the other guards who were involved in the abuse didn't. Joker was strong and resilient; he could take on the pain. If these men were to move on and beat another patient they could kill them. Those men would pay, along with the doctors who allowed this and engaged in their own torture therapy. But for now he needed to check on the Joker.

He opened the door and entered the cell. The Joker didn't acknowledge the bat at all, for a moment Batman thought he was still unconscious. But soon enough the clown shifted in his cot and spoke with a rasp.

"Not tonight guys keep it up… and I'm gonna cough up a lung…" Joker said in a weak voice at Batman's general direction. Batman approached and slowly sat the madman up and leaned him against the wall. "Alright just don't stomp on my ribs again, docs like me not so roughed up for electroshock in the morning," he responded with a tired laugh.

"Joker."

That voice, the Joker would know it anywhere. He struggled to open his eyes and then had trouble focusing. His bat just seemed like one huge black blur. He didn't like being on so many drugs to the point he couldn't see straight. He missed being able to try to see behind the cowl and catch a glimpse of those icy blue eyes.

"Bats…"

Bruce saw that Joker's eyes were unfocused, convulsing dilated pupils tried desperately to meet his own eyes. Finding the task draining and useless Joker rested his head against the wall closing his eyes.

"Are these the drugs or are you really here Batsy?"

"I'm here Joker." He wasn't sure what he should say. It was strange and horrible seeing his enemy this way. So weak and helpless, the Joker was never this way before. It was so unreal seeing his longtime adversary so completely defeated like this. Bruce didn't like it. "Joker, I need you to tell me where Quinn is. I know about the bombs. I don't want to fight you, just tell me where she is."

"And give up my only leverage to possibly have some fun when I'm far from this place? Sure they have me pretty roughed up and under their thumb but I'll bounce back I always do. I'll make them pay for having their fun with me and then I'll have my fun with Gotham with nice big fireworks," The Joker laughed.

Even though those lips were torn and swollen, the Joker smiled. Batman looked at the state he was in. He was breathing hard and shaking slightly from the sharp coldness in the cell. He was bruised all over. White skin was littered with sickly yellowed and purple marks, but underneath those bruises laid a field of scars. Some old and grizzly, but some were precise and skillfully deep from a blade of sorts. Bruce recognized them as some of the batarang scars that would be inflicted on the person unlucky enough to be on the other side of him throwing one.

The marks from the other men couldn't overtake or diminish what the scars that his beloved bat has inflicted on him. Joker could practically feel his adversary's sympathy for his state, he didn't like it. "I see you noticed the aftermath of the last few days on my body. Don't worry your little head darling it means nothing. Not when I've felt worse, this doesn't even compare. The marks and scars you and I left are what weave and tell our tale, not the blemishes from others. Because you and I have done so much damage and pain onto one another, we write the score to our grand dance of death not them." Eventually as the Joker spoke his vision cleared a bit, he managed to focus enough to see his darling bat's eyes that tried so desperately to hide in the shadows. "Have I ever told you I love to see your eyes," the clown giggled.

Brue almost shivered at the clarity and sometimes insanity that the Joker let slip, even in this drugged haze he did it, twisted dialogue weaving such different concepts of love and death in the same sentence. It unsettled him a bit; he tried to convince himself that it was the room that made him shiver. Batman had a duty to uphold, but still he wanted to help this man. "Joker I need to capture Quinn and deactivate your bombs, just this once help me, I don't want to fight."

"I always try to help you, you just never see it. Besides what do I get out of it?"

"Help me and I will do the same."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll see, but I need you to trust me and I promise to keep my end of the bargain."

The Joker mused this for a bit. Batman was being quite not himself; the sympathy must be coming from his other side. He tried to think about his knight's words but it was hard to concentrate when he felt so tired. It was hard to put aside his chance at fun and destruction but he was curious to see what the bat had in mind.

Joker laid himself as comfortably as he could on his cot. He could no longer see Batman's face, it all just blurred when he tried to. "She's at the shipping warehouses on the east end of town; bombs are under the supporting pillars of the bridge."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, go on and bring the dumb broad back and save the day," chuckled weakly the Joker as he closed his eyes. Batman noticed the Joker still shivering in his sleep. Before he left he unclasped his cape and laid it over the clown.

And the hero did complete his promise, afterwards Batman made sure the guards were dealt with and his other persona Bruce Wayne dismissed the doctors that were responsible. At night the Joker would lay in his cot wrapped in Batman's cape, happy that he could count on his bat.