Welcome to the 100% totally absolutely canon account of what happens when John asks why you saved him and you choose to let Bruce remain silent.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sitting on top of a bruised and bloody John, desperately trying to revive him and fighting the hopelessness that grows with every moment he doesn't respond, an equally battered Bruce wonders how something that'd once been so good could turn so bad. Or rather, how it all could've gone downhill so fast . Maybe later, with time, he'll be able to unpick all the tangled threads, work out where it all started to go so horribly, horribly wrong but, for now, all he knows is that no matter how bad it is, he isn't ready for it to end.

Not like this.

These thoughts fire off at a mile a minute even as the moment seems to stretch into a lifetime and Bruce tries to come to terms with the fact that he might never get the chance to fix it. But then, with a sharp intake of breath, the body underneath him moves and relief hits Bruce hard enough to make him dizzy.

Disoriented green eyes open and slowly turn towards him. John's voice, when he eventually speaks, is soft and raspy and full of wonder.

"You...you saved me."

Bruce thinks, of course I fucking did , and wants to shake him because the surprise on John's face means either they don't know each other as well as they thought they did or that John believes he's worth so little now that Bruce wouldn't bother to revive him. It's enough to break Bruce's heart all over again.

"Why?" John continues. "You could've let me die...no one would've blamed you…"

No, no they wouldn't. In fact, they'd all be lining up to thank him. But Bruce...he'd never forgive himself. Not just because of the code but because looking at John now, seeing not the maniacal nightmare he's trying so hard to be but a man broken and lost, it makes his chest constrict with something that almost brings him to tears. And Bruce realises all the atrocities committed don't change a single thing. Not for him. He's in far too deep to ever be able to climb his way out again.

And it makes him want to scream. Scream and shout and rant and rave, berate John for all the stupid, awful things he's done and himself for everything he did to bring them here. But instead he swoops down, pressing his lips hard against John's because talking hasn't worked, if anything it's only made things worse, so he'll let actions answer for him instead.

It's only a quick kiss and as he pulls away Bruce hopes that this might finally be enough for John to understand that not everything was a lie. But John doesn't move, just stares at Bruce, eyes blown wide with something unreadable. It was a gamble, Bruce knows that, and as panic sets in that the gamble might not have paid off, he opens his mouth ready to beg John to tell him how to make it better. But hands latch onto his shoulders and pull him back down to a mouth that seems intent on stealing every last bit of breath from his lungs.

The kiss is frantic and desperate and almost as brutal as their fight had been just moments ago. Lips, teeth and tongues clashing again and again. Painful, but nothing compared to the anguish he feels spilling out of John. It's sharp and potent and mingles with Bruce's own grief to flood his veins and make the kiss all the more urgent.

John lets out a whimper and can't seem to decide whether to pull Bruce closer or push him away, a fist hitting Bruce's ribs as another grips his jaw, his neck, his hair. Teeth sink into Bruce's lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the sting sending him rearing back before hands come up to hold him in place and a tongue runs along the bite to lap up the blood.

When Bruce leans back into the kiss the air changes between them, turning into something for Bruce and John rather than Batman and Joker and bringing John Doe all the way back to the surface. Bruce tucks his arms underneath John's shoulders to hold him as close as he possibly can and let the love he's hidden away ever since John confessed his love for someone else wash over them both.

And he thinks - hopes - John can feel it, even if he won't yet let himself believe it, because John lets out another soft whimper before a shudder runs along the entire length of his body, kiss faltering as his shoulders shake, hands tremble and the whimper turns to a sob.

He presses his face into Bruce's and his fingers dig in as if holding on for dear life. And Bruce doesn't say a word, just keeps one arm around his waist and pushes them into a sitting position, which isn't easy when Bruce is on the verge of collapse. Then, with John in his lap, let's him cry it all out and ignores the tears beginning to run silently down his own face.

Bruce isn't sure how long they sit there but when sirens whine in the distance, he knows their time is up. Time to face the music.

John isn't ready, though, grip on Bruce somehow growing even tighter and it takes a surprising amount of effort to pull John's head up to face him. His makeup is smeared all over his face and Bruce lifts a thumb to wipe away what he thinks is blood but could just as easily be lipstick. And, looking at him now, sad eyes and downturned mouth, there doesn't seem to be a trace of Joker left. He looks utterly defeated and when he speaks his voice is so quiet Bruce has to lean right in to hear it.

"I don't wanna go back."

For one very quick and selfish moment Bruce considers telling him he doesn't have to. Arkham hardly did much good the first time around. But whatever John's reasons, he's still hurt a lot of people and Bruce wouldn't let anyone else get away with it. He can't let John be the exception.

"I know, but you have to."

He can tell John was expecting this reply by the way he slumps forward and rests his head heavily on Bruce's shoulder, arms dangling lifelessly at his sides. Bruce wraps his arms around John's waist to hold him close once again. Although he can't save John from another spell in the asylum, he can make sure things are different this time, make sure John actually gets the help he needs. And offer the support he should've provided first time around.

"But...you won't be alone."

There's no response whatsoever and as John isn't pushing him away Bruce takes it as a tentative sign to continue.

"I'll be there. I'll help."

John's head whips up and his gaze is loaded with so much scepticism that it almost makes Bruce flinch. But Bruce can't really blame him for it, he hasn't exactly been an exemplary friend. He's going to have to earn John's trust this time.

Which he's more than ready to do.

The sirens are louder now. The cops are almost here and Bruce wishes he had just a little longer because it's going to be a long time before he can even be in the same room as John again, let alone touch or kiss him. It seems to be a sentiment John shares because suddenly his mouth is on Bruce's again, although much, much softer than before, more a brushing of lips than a kiss. But Bruce is willing to take it as a sign that, even if John is sceptical, he's willing to give Bruce another chance.

And Bruce will take it.

There's no fuss when John is taken away, he lets the cops cuff him without a word and doesn't look Bruce's way even once as he's loaded into the van. Which is fine, Bruce tells himself, it's fine. John just needs -

It's fine.

Bruce's eyes remain fixed on the van as it drives away and, just as it's about to round the corner, John's eyes lock with his. And remain that way until the van disappears from sight.