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Even Bats Fall	By : BlueBastard Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 6333 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own The Dark Knight or Batman Begins and I do not make a profit from writing this piece of fiction

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
A/N: Reviewers, you rock. Even if it's a word or two, pointing out parts you like, or constructive criticism, every bit made me grin. Thanks for the interest in the story guys.
As for the vid shout out, how could I not? YouTube vids always inspire me, especially if they're well done.
-o-o-o-
Bruce rushed into the penthouse, sweat dried on his skin from earlier and from his rushed drive over.
He couldn't let Joker find out.
Couldn't!
Once he figured a way to get Reese safe and out of the way, he could leave Gotham. Indefinitely. This... thing. Whatever it was. With the Joker?
It had to stop.
And the only way that could happen was if he distanced himself from the man.
But he has to ensure Joker would NEVER find out first.
The emergency lights flickered on in his hidden room, the cowl and suit staring at him mockingly. It demanded things from him. Answers, just like that painted face.
Could he really leave all this behind? The suit? The city? Joker?
Bruce Wayne stilled, hand hovering inches from the Kevlar plates, titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers winking up at him. He was justice incarnate in this form. Exacting vengeance on the corrupt city. Saving the innocents. Doing what was right. But the city was safer now. He had even noticed Joker's steady decline from chaos. When he left, the Gotham PD would be more than capable of handling the crippled shadows of crime.
Batman had sacrificed enough.
BRUCE had done enough.
This would be the last time he donned the suit.
But he couldn't help feeling an echoing laughter at the back of his skull. The Joker's laugh. Even the cowl seemed to be grinning up at him, glad to not have been forgotten.
Bruce's fingers twitched back. Before he growled at himself. What was he afraid of? This was HIS choice. HE was Batman, not the other way around. And once this mess was dealt with, he would be DONE. For good.
With a wordless snarl, he ripped the suit from its casing, and hastily dressed.
-o-o-o-
Coleman Reese was a stupid, stupid man.
"You know, for a lawyer, you're uhhh, NOT very smart." Joker stated pensively, crimson grin tilting in a smirk.
With a receding hairline, in his late thirties, and definitively NOT getting paid enough to deal with this crazed lunatic, the mouse of a man spurted once more, "What do you want from me?!"
Coleman Reese hung from the broken window, dangling thirty stories in the air from his M&A Consulting Agency firm, the only thing keeping him from his death being a flimsy piece of string tied to the leg of the office chair Joker currently sat on. Frustrated that he had to deal with this pathetic, spineless coward of a man, Joker hunched forward on his seat, elbows on knees as he steeples his fingers vexingly, "For the LAST time, Reese, it's simple. Heh eheh, really it is. Just a small thing. Two words really. Here's what I want: I WANT. THAT. NAME."
Reese's grey pupils widened, "I-I can't! I'm sorry!!"
Lucius had really made an impression on him the last time he and Reese had spoken. Bruce Wayne had made it a habit of beating criminals to a pulp, dressed as the Batman. Night after night. The man had EVERYTHING and he chose to spend his spare time fighting crime. Viciously. As far as he was concerned, Bruce was just as crazy as the painted man before him. Except he had money, power, and connections on his side. It wasn't just his life Bruce could threaten, it was his very livelihood.
As afraid as Coleman was, he couldn't give the name. After everything, Bruce had SAVED him!! Who knew what the billionaire turned Batman would do if he gave away his identity.
"I-" Coleman started to stutter.
But then the opposite window broke in a rain of shards. Heavy boots landed, and without turning Joker heard the one voice he wanted to hear more than anything else in the WORLD.
"Let him go, Joker." That wondrous raspy, gravel of a voice made Joker's heart stop.
The whispering rustle of the cloak getting closer. The intimate squeak of Kevlar and rubber. He could taste it in the air. His skin crawled with a growing excitement. Joker could hardly believe it. After weeks of plans. Scheming. To bring the Bat to him and suddenly, without even trying...
Without even planning...
Here he was.
Joker was ramrod straight in his chair. Almost afraid to turn his head for fear the apparition behind him might vanish.
But slowly, ever so slowly, he did. And the sight of the towering dark figure did not disappoint. It wasn't the fake washouts, the damned pretenders. No... THIS Bat held himself with a menacing air. Those broad shoulders and gleaming Kevlar. That familiar grimace.
THERE was *a* Batman. In all his scowling glory.
For the first time, Bruce heard the Joker's voice tremble, a mixture of hope and despair in that tone, "Bat...man...?"
Batman was struck. He knew his disappearance would frustrate the man, but Joker had the look of a man starved. Pushed to the brink of dehydration, and he was taking his fill. Right now. Of Batman's dark presence.
"You're, heh heh, back...?" Joker asked softly, hand reaching out, wanting so bad to touch the Bat, but afraid he would vanish once more.
The next words from those lips, pressed into a tight line, dealt a blow more devastating than any punch the vigilante could land, "I'm not staying."
That knocked the breath out of the Joker. And what filled the vacuum was a venomous snarl, Joker standing abruptly as he cut off Batman's growled explanation of "I'm only here to-" as the Joker raged, "What? To save this pathetic piece of-"
But several things happened at once. Batman jerked back at the complete shift in the jester's demeanor. A scream filled the air. And Batman was diving to the broken window, past a frozen Joker, grappling hook whizzing out even as the falling man continued to scream his head off.
"Oops." Joker shrugged.
He hadn't meant to. *Really* he hadn't. But the Bat had a way of drowning everything else out of the picture. But what did it matter if Reese died. Joker had the Bat now, and he was NOT letting him out of his sight.
Bruce grunted as the hook caught, slamming Batman into the wall as he took the brunt of Reese's momentum. He took a second to catch his breath, grabbing a nearby shelf to keep from plummeting over the edge as Reese had. His heel dug into the thin carpet, his shoulder screaming loud in protest. Almost as loud as the dangling man below.
"Aaahhh Aahhh AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!"
Well, maybe not nearly as loudly.
Batman flinched as the Joker suddenly popped up beside him, cackling.
"Joker..." The sound from the masked man's lips was divine. Guttural, and with the right twist of danger and anger. Even with his struggling countenance not to topple out the window after the bumbling idiot. The Bat was stretched between one arm to the other, back digging painfully against the edge of the wall, the kiss of death millimeters from the edge of his boot.
"I can see you're, er, *busy* right now, what with hanging on for dear life and all, but I would looove a moment of your time to chat, dear Batsy." Joker was all giddy smiles and cackles. He couldn't have planned it better himself. It was almost as if fate had served the Bat to him on a silver platter. And Joker just shivered in anticipation of his one on one time with the vigilante.
Eyeing the Joker, but content in the fact that he wasn't gonna pull anything for the moment, Bruce tightened his grip on the cord, grunting, "Do I have a choice?"
"No." Joker grinned gleefully.
The Bat was back. The Bat was back! Here with him. The night had never seemed so beautiful.
"C-can you pull me up now?!" A frightened voice wailed from below.
"Shut up!" Joker screeched. This was HIS time with the Bats. Batman looked surprised at his outburst, but Joker just shrugged, edging closer as he pouted and whined, "It. Has. Been. FOREVER. You never call, Batsy. Or stop by to play one of my, erm, games. You know I make 'em jus' for you, Batsy."
He could almost imagine the Joker stomping his own foot on the ground like a petulant child that wasn't getting his way. Batman arched a brow, leaning back a little as the jester invaded his bubble. Batman LIKED his bubble. And suddenly, more and more, it was feeling like going on this whole outing to stop Reese from spilling the beans was... not such a good idea.
"I...uh..." Batman couldn't lean back any farther, his voice colored with discomfort. What was he supposed to do, let go of Reese so he could get away from the mad man? The way those coal-lined eyes travelled over him was unnerving to say the least. He had the sneaking suspicion that the jester was undressing him in his mind, and he shivered, before growling, "Back off, Joker."
But the Joker's lingering gaze turned to a frown, ignoring Batman's words to demand, "How... didja find me, Batsy? Not that I'm not, erm, pleased and thrilled. But, I didn't even leave any clues... any presents... nothing. So how...?"
The slight widening of those hard brown eyes gave the Bat away. It only lasted a moment. But it was too late.
He.
Had.
Slipped!
Oooh, heh eheh heh. This was getting IN-ter-esting. Joker decided to rest against the man's side in deep thought, body against Kevlar enshrouded body, earning a guttural growl from the Dark Knight. That broad chest tensed, muscles constricting. Wanting to get away from the Joker, most likely. But there was *nothing* Bats could do about it. Unless, of course, he was willing to just LET Reese fall to his death. Joker tapped his own painted chin, humming as his sharp mind worked rapidly, "Hmmmm, *let's* see.... just HOW did the big bad Batman end up in, heh heh, MY neck of the woods...?"
Batman grimaced. It wouldn't take much. A lunatic Joker may be, but he was anything but an IDIOT. As far as he knew, there was only one person Joker had let slip as to where he was heading that night. One person he had tortured. Forced to play his sick game. A moral, physical torture that tainted Batman's mind. Plaguing him with the memories of it. He should have prevented what went down in the restaurant. But he had been Bruce Wayne then. He couldn't do what Batman would've done.
Though his mind sneered, couldn't... or WOULDN'T.
The moment those blue eyes lit up, Batman knew he was doomed.
"Bruuuuucy... heh eheh heh, I knew it. That nice piece of ass DOES have connections..." Joker purred triumphantly.
"You leave him out of this, Joker." Batman rumbled a warning, his rising panic threatening to show through hardened features. It already showed through his second slip of the night.
Hell.
Why not paint a target on his back while he was at it?
The Joker did nothing if not go against what Batman, or anyone else for that matter, said.
"Oooh, hit a SORE spot have I??? Is dear Brucy a *friend*?" That last word had those darkened pits narrowing. The billionaire was fun and all, but if he was more important to the Bats than Joker, well heh heh, it pretty much spoke for itself...
"I have no friends." Batman rumbled deeply, trying hard to ignore the fact that the muscled warmth of the Joker was leaning nonchalantly on his side, the heat of that purple jacket seeping through his cold Kevlar plates. The tangled mop of green hair brushed his open mask, and his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he attempted NOT to inhale the scent of gasoline and CHAOS that was *purely* Joker.
His answer seemed to perk the jester's souring mood. He cackled, turning slightly to brush a gloved hand against Batman's armored torso, eliciting a deep growl as he tsked, "Aaw Bats. Don't worry your scowling, pointy eared head. You have ME."
"Stop," Batman paused to grunt, starting to feel the ache in his stretched arms from the man hanging outside, "trying to make me feel better."
"Oh Batsy," The Joker was fully turned around now, pressing his front into that of the Batman's armored front, gleefully drinking in the growing alarm and tenseness of the silent man before him, "but that's what I LIVE for."
Batman shot him a glare that defied Joker's simple reasoning.
-o-o-o-
Maroni had said if he watched Coleman Reese long enough, he'd figure something important out. It had been at least a month now, and Lucas, one of the Falconi syndicate lackeys, had been bored out of his mind. He was CONVINCED Reese was lying through his teeth when he said he knew who the Bat was.
And wham, outta nowhere the Joker shows up. Lucas Monticristo had nearly pissed his pants, sure the loon knew he was there, lurking behind the cracked open office door.
But nothin' happened. He was still in one piece.
Then the BAT shows up and Lucas fought long and hard not to run down the stairs, tail between his legs. But the two were so absorbed in each other, strangely NOT beating each other to a pulp, that they never even knew he was there.
Lucas was a mop of brown hair and stick-like figure. A kicked mutt in the world of mobsters. And he was eager to gain a foothold in the Falcone syndicate. Just imagine what killing the Joker AND Batman would do to his reputation. It made the man salivate, even as he pulled his .45 caliber out of his expensive pants suit.
He had to time this carefully. Do it right. Had to take out the Joker first, since the loon had the most freedom right then. Then the Bat would be easy pickins. Like shooting fish outta a barrel.
Wetting suddenly dry lips, the reedy man stepped closer to the door, gun at ready.
-o-o-o-
Batman's hand trembled on the shelf, expensive oak groaning warningly at his clenched hold. That, and his well-placed footing were the only things keeping him from falling into the darkness. Though he was seriously considering it as the Joker continued to take his liberties, pressed against him as he was, inhaling Batman's scent.
"Hmmm," Joker hummed happily, "Kevlar, sweat, and a hint of spice."
"Better than gasoline and chaos," Bruce rumbled, gaze narrowing since he had never meant to let the words slip. But the Joker was getting to him. This closeness. Acting like leaving him was like leaving the jester with no AIR. It made no sense. How could his mere presence affect the clown so? Didn't Joker realize he was only there to STOP him? To save everyone else from his mad schemes?
But Joker lit up deviously, "You *noticed*! How sweet..."
Batman's gaze narrowed further. What could he do to get through to this man? Should he disregard his One Rule and get rid of the Joker? Wouldn't the world be a better place?
Would it really?
"You-" Batman started to growl.
But honed senses caught movement at the corner of his eye. Everything streamed to him in flashes.
The door!
Stupid, he forgot to mind his-
The flash of a gun in the moon light. A shaky gloved hand steadying it. Aiming at them. No, not them. Aimed at the Joker.
Batman reacted without thinking. Without hesitation.
He released his one grip on the shelf, grabbing the surprised jester by the collar and tossing him safely to the side. Batman didn't have time to register the look of hurt confusion on the man's painted face before he leaned sideways on his heels, gravity clawing at him towards the ledge. The movement saved his life as a bullet struck the wall just millimeters from his torso. But it also cost him his footing.
Hypersensitive hearing ringing from the unexpected shot, Batman felt gravity grip him triumphantly, jerking him over the edge into the abyss, even as he heard a frantic "BATS!" sound from the ledge. He shot one last glance behind him, eyes widening at the wicked shifting of events, before he was caressed by the wind of a thirty story plummet.
Even as he stretched his cape, the electric current stiffening the fabric as he activated it with the flaring of his fingers, even as it failed because of the weight of the doomed man yards below him, even as he spun and careened out of control, Batman couldn't shake the image out of his head.
The Joker had been half-crouched, half-standing, hand outstretched as though to save him. Mouth forlorn, without the hidden smirk that always played below the paint. But what got to him the most was the look in his wide blue eyes. The look of fear. The look of losing what you hold most dear, right before your eyes. Bruce Wayne knew that look.
Batman knew that look.
And it was not something a man like the Joker should ever be capable of having on his face. Especially for Batman.
His descent slowed, but not enough. He heard the sick smack of something hitting the pavement. With a twisted irony, it registered that Reese was dead. And he would soon follow.
And for some odd reason... he had SAVED the Joker.
He felt a flare of immense pain. A sound of a crash. Then darkness.
-o-o-o-
Joker rushed over to the ledge, barely stopping himself as he made to throw himself out after. As though he could fly. What was his life without the Bats?
He ignored the sharp sting of broken glass on his knees and palm, one hand gripping the wall as he leaned out. It was over in moments. The red splotch of one body on the pavement, the unmoving form of another on the collapsed roof of a truck. It was too far down to make out which body was the Dark Knight's. Joker growled in frustration.
What was his life without the Bat?
He took a moment to draw his gaze up the wall he clenched onto, death like. To brush over the bullet hole. Meant for him, he was sure. That had been where HIS head was at. The Bats had shoved him out of the way. Had fallen instead of letting Joker die.
What. Was. His. Life...
Sluggish brain slowly making the connections through the thickening haze of rage, Joker turned his head ever. So. Slowly. Following the direction the shot had been fired from.
...Without. The. BATS???
His cold icy gaze fell on the trembling mess that was Lucas Monticristo. Joker knew a mobster when he saw one, and this pale shadow of a man, smoking barrel still in hand, *definitely* was one. He reeked of Maloni and cowardly force. Exuded money like a bad stench.
And HE... he had taken away the one good thing in his life.
It used to be murder. Mayhem. Chaos.
Before the Batman strolled in his life, those things were enough. Those things brought him joy. Made him smile. But after...
Well, EVERYTHING paled in comparison to the Dark Knight.
Bats had been his other half. The immovable object to his unstoppable force.
Joker didn't notice the shaking that consumed his whole body. The pure, unfiltered rage that hunched his shoulders and tore a mangy snarl from his scarred lips. He looked like a rabid dog. Hair tangled, eyes crazed. Saliva dripping thread-like from the side of his parted maw. His teeth flashed in the darkened room.
He didn't notice these things, but the unfortunate Lucas did.
And the man quickly aimed his gun, firing shot after shot as the crazed man tore after him on all fours, the jester hunched over even as he rose to his feet. Lucas didn't know if any of the bullets hit, but it didn't matter. Nothing could stop the Joker now. He read his slow, torturous death in those hollowed eyes.
-o-o-o-
Batman came to slowly. Everything ached. From his bones, to his nerve endings, to his very cells. But that didn't change the fact that he was...
Very much alive.
And it hurt like hell.
Batman stifled the low groan that wanted to rumble out, his alert gaze taking stock of his surroundings. The crisp smell of disinfectant. The firm, uncaring sheets of the thin mattress beneath him. The clank of a metal handcuff to the bedside railing.
A slow panic settled in his gut.
Was he in Arkham?
But no, he noticed the pristine, bland whiteness of the room even as it registered. The bleep of monitors, the buzzed overlap of the paging system out in the corridor. The humming of the television set adjacent to his bed.
Hospital.
Then he noted the silent man a few feet away, hands held behind his back as he gazed out the window.
Batman, assured that his Kevlar and cowl were still on, rumbled in a tone like he had chewed dry gravel, "...Gordon..."
The man turned slowly, surprised. He looked a little worse for wear, haggard as always. But a small smirk graced his spectacled features, "You... continue to impress me, Batman. You only got checked in just a few hours ago. A lesser man would be out for days, especially after a fall from that height."
Batman just stared, questions in his dark gaze.
"You're in Gotham East. It's three in the morning. My men... are still cleaning up the mess in the consulting agency tower. It's a blood bath over there. The coroner could just barely I.D. the bodies. Coleman Reese and a mobster by the name of Lucas Monticristo. Though the latter had the be scraped off the walls. I'm not sure I even want to KNOW what happened." The Commissioner rubbed a hand wearily on the back of his neck. He looked like a racket of questions were jumbled in his own head, but when he spoke next, it was almost hushed, "Where... have you been?"
"I..." Batman's voice faltered. He hadn't realized...
With his sudden decision, he never really remembered to mention ANYthing to the Commissioner. He had been so focused on staying the hell outta the Joker's scope, he had failed to look elsewhere.
"You never dropped by. Never mentioned... are you... *finished*, Batman?" Gordon hesitated, feeling as if he shouldn't be demanding an answer to such a question. It wasn't as if this was a job position sanctioned by the state. Or that Batman even *had* to do the things he did. Risking his life, sometimes even his soul, on a quest to save the city's own. But damn it, Gordon had a right to be in the know. He may not be the symbol Batman was, he was just one ordinary man, but he risked his life and soul as well right alongside him.
"Isn't this what you wanted, Gordon?" But Batman's growl was subdued, his eyes flickering pointedly on the floor.
"You know damn well-" Gordon turned, sighing in frustration. He composed himself before turning, "Look, the Joker may have calmed his antics for a while. But there are rumors. The Joker's gone soft. Crime is at an all time low. But the Syndicate is on the rise again and we- *I* need you Batman. If only for a moment longer."
Batman was silent in the face of that admittance. Gordon was a hard man to crack. Not quite prideful. More the type to do what needed to be done because he had to. 'Cause it was the right thing to do. Just like Batman. And if he felt like he needed to come right out and SAY it, well...
He must fear the worst.
"Gordon..." Batman started to rumble. But he didn't know what to even *begin* to say. A simple 'I'm sorry' didn't quite cut it. Wasn't what Gordon deserved.
"I know you had your reasons, Batman. And this isn't some goddamn confessional. I'm not even saying you have to come back. I just..." Gordon wavered, taking his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose, as if to rub the grooves from their indentations. He sighed loudly, placing them back on as he finished, "I just would like a little bit of help. I can't wrap up the Falcone Syndicate without you."
A tumble of emotions flit through Batman's mind, the foremost being guilt, though none showed through his hardened features, Batman scowl fixed tightly in place. Tighter than his own cowl. He had devoted so much to this city. His father had as well. Was it fair to just let it all go because of one stubborn maniac? If it was just his life on the line, Bruce would have no qualms about facing the Joker. But there was more at stake. His sanity, among other things. Other things his mind did not want to dwell on. Was it fair to the city? To Gordon? All of who counted of him.
His jaw set.
Was it fair to Bruce Wayne?
"Gordon-" Batman started to mutter.
But the Commissioner held up a hand, halting the vigilante's reply, "Please, don't answer right away, Batman. Just-just do me a favor. Think about it first."
Batman paused, turned to look at his hand and rattled the cuffs, turning his gaze back to the older man, "A little difficult to do some thinking in jail, Gordon..."
"Already handled. Look under the mattress. Left a surprise. I'll clear the immediate vicinity of the doctors that are supposed to check up on you. You'll have a twenty minute window." Gordon managed a grin amidst the cough he used to cover his briefly spoken sentences. There were a lot of regulations he broke for the Batman, but only the Bat. Considering everything the vigilante did in return, well, it was the least he could do.
"Thanks, but I barely need ten." Batman grunted in appreciation.
"Overachiever." Gordon snorted, heading out the door, "You know with me, there's no need. I'm already impressed."
"I'm not. And Gordon?" Batman waited for the man to stop by the door, hand on the handle as he cocked his head to listen, "I'll... think about it. For you."
The smile that stretched the older man's face was genuine, "That's all I ask."
Then the door shut and Batman was alone to mull over his thoughts. How he wished he could call Alfred then and there. He was sure the Butler would have some sound, knowing advice to give him. Always had. Always would, too.
There were repercussions to every decision. And he had not even given it any thought since that night in the cell. Joker always tended to shorten his fuse. Make him act and react without thinking. It was a dangerous thing, especially with the power of the Batsuit at his fingertips.
It couldn't hurt, could it?
To be Batman for a little while longer. Help Gordon out with his mobster problem. Hope to dear god he didn't run into the Joker again.
Right.
Fight the mob, avoid the cops AND an obsessed clown during Gotham's dark nights?
Batman sighed wearily, head falling back on his too flat pillow, the smell of too many unscented washes clinging to the covers. He may not want to do this, but he HAD to. Because it truly was the RIGHT thing to do, as he could hear Alfred's English accent drifting in his thoughts.
Oh how he hated his life. Hated how he was raised, taught to do the moral thing.
With a grimace, Batman shifted on the bed. Might as well get this over with and escape. Not that he couldn't have done so without Gordon's help. It just made things... easier. A path Batman was completely unused to treading. He already knew where his first stop would be once he got out. Wayne Enterprises. He needed to meet a certain man about certain adjustments he needed done to the suit. If he was gonna make it a habit to go jumping off buildings with extra bodies, he needed the cape to be able to handle the surplus weight.
He had just started to reach under the mattress with his unhindered hand, when the door swung open. Yanking upright, he watched the nurse with narrowed eyes. A slender thing with a bounce of red and orange hair, she hadn't even acknowledged him when she went in. Hadn't even *looked* at him. And it was this, more than anything else, that had him on edge.
He thought Gordon...
He continued eyeing her, noticing she had strangely thick and muscular calves for a woman. Her legs weren't even shaved, the hairs obvious even from a few feet away. Her white, ironed dress had a belt that tapered well to her narrowed waist, the hem brushing just above the back of her knees.
Still eyeing the stranger and whatever it was she was doing at the small countertop, Batman resumed fishing underneath the mattress, torso twisted since the free hand was the one closest to the wall. There was something about the silent nurse, that tugged at his consciousness. A familiarity that snagged his nerves, a strange shiver traveling down his spine. But he ignored it in favor of his current search. If she chose to ignore him, it worked all the better for him. His brow furrowed as his gloved fingers made no contact with the key to his cuffs. Gordon had said-
A familiar chuckle slid like ice down his spine, attention jerked fully to the stranger with her back turned to him. Her arm was outstretched, the light of predawn glinting on a small metallic object dangling from her gloved hands.

Except it wasn't a 'her'.
And the object was a glimmering key.
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Even Bats Fall