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His Batman

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The Joker was so exhausted.

He had hunted him for three months now. That guy who stole his city.

- - - - -

He was in Arkham for around one year. One year in Crane’s hands. In pain and fear. Real fear. And Crane did not lie when he told him that Batman had a new playpartner. A partner he hunted and fucked! A partner for day, not just night. That was why, his
beloved Bats did not pay one visit. Joker had waited for him. He really had.

But there were no heavy footsteps.

Nor his deep grumbling voice.  

No Bat.

He did not come.

After his escape, Joker had to acknowledge, that this other player had stolen most of his city.

His money, his area, his den, his men.

Everything was gone.

Harley nowhere to be found. J. was hurt and alone.

He had left Arkham in the early morning hours. His way lead to a little flat he owned under one of his many names. It was unknown, even by Harley. He had dragged himself into bed and slept for over twenty hours. After that, Joker took a long, hot shower.
He chose the bright purple suit. His favourite one.

The city needed to see.

He was back.

- - - - -

Oswald Cobblepot had lost his money. Joker did not like that. He broke four of the Penguin’s fingers and left unsatisfied. This was annoying him. Not that money ever mattered in his life. Sometimes he just needed some, to buy his favourite items for
upcoming performances. Weapons and bullets, dynamite and mechanical teeth and all the other party favors- or just buy a sandwich.

Joker robbed three liquor stores and a gas station. He then had around 720 $, one bottle of whiskey, two chocolate bars and one burger. The last one he threw into a trash can half eaten.

Next stop was Joker's Den. It was closed. No Mikes around. No thugs around. Harley still missing and even Mr. Skittles, his spotted hyeana, was nowhere to be found. He broke into his own nest and found it burned. Everything was destroyed. The safe empty.
Smilex was gone too.

The third stop was one of the hideouts. He hoped to find his Mikes there, maybe some answers. But also that place and the following seventeen places were abandoned. Joker got impatient. He tried to call some Mikes, the ones that were always loyal, but it
seemed they had all changed their numbers.

Joker left and tried one last thing.


He tried to call his bat. With the money he brought explosives. His destination was unclear. He just wanted his Bat’s attention. He chose a jewelers and waited for the Police to arrive. He took some of the jewels and put them on, then spread his arms.

It was commissioner Gordon, who called him out. It was also the commissioner who told him Crane was right. Batman wouldn't come. Batman would not play with him anymore.

Gordon left the Clown cuffed and confused in a cell. They had to call a special vehicle to bring him back to Arkham.

In his chest a burning rage had built up. He didn’t even notice what his hands were doing. There was only one thought in his head, which made everything else feeling numb.
Joker had to find this man. He had to find him, and kill him. Slowly. His head drew pretty pictures of himself destroying this guy, who had dared to steal his Bat. He shuddered, while his hands picked the locks, automatized. Joker escaped again.

- - - - -

Three month later, and he’d finally found him. He had seen Batman sometimes, but he had not called out for him. Maybe he was afraid? At least he had won the damn game.

He had found the man, who had taken everything from him.

He had found him and he had fought him.

Batman was his.

His alone.

He had beaten the shit out of the man. After stabbing him several times, Joker felt relieved, but it was not enough. With patience and precision he first peeled the skin of the large places like chest and legs. Then he went to the man’s genitals. He completly
destroyed them, making sure, he would never be able to love again. He broke his ribs and hands with a hammer, listening to the breaking sounds and the gasps, even if he might have missed some. Next were the vocal chords. As a last step Joker sliced his
face again and again, screaming until all his strengths was gone and he collapsed laughing on the ground.  

And Batman came.

Batman found them.

Batman was angry.

Joker did nothing.

He had let Batman beat him to a pile of blood and broken bones. He had won the game. Batman killed him. He was dying and Batman would not save him this time.

Because Batman was holding the other man.

Batman was crying.

Really crying?

Joker was confused.

"Stay with me please. ... I need you. You can not die, please," the Bat’s voice broke.

Joker was even more confused. He coughed. He could not get up, anymore. He was bleeding out like a pig, while his Bat was holding another.

"Eddie.... shh. I love you," Batman whispered.

The three words he never used. Batman was so bad in saying what he was feeling.

The other man groaned. Then he went limp.

"I love you!" Batman pulled the dead body to his chest. He kissed the Riddler again and again.

And with his last breath, Joker realised:


He had lost.