Not Quite The Bat...
Title: Not Quite the Bat...
Disclaimer: If i owned them they would have less clothing while together
Rating: PG13-R for now
Warnings: Gore for now
Characters/Pairings: Batman/Joker
Summary: A last stand by a band of Gothams worst nearly kill The Batman and The Joker is less than pleased. No one stands between Joker and his Bat and he aims to make sure it never happens again...

To say that he was outnumbered was a monumental understatement. Batman leapt to higher ground in the form of a stationary Mack Truck to assess the situation. Penguins' criminal group swarmed beneath him, they had finally smartened up and for now put their egos aside to ban together. Penguin, Firefly, Bane, Killer Crock, Dr. Strange, and members of the Falcone family were out for blood, one last stand against the Batman and they did not plan on failure. Bullets and knives flew through the air indiscriminately, ripping through his cape, some finding their mark and grazing or even embedding themselves in his armor. He needed a way to trap them all, freeze them long enough- but there was no time to think, a blade ripped through the muscle in his right arm as it whizzed past. He leapt down, dodging, running. He was surrounded and the bullets were still flying. He could hear the metal fly through the night past him but it was the ones that were missing that froze Batman's heart. The thwack of muscle meeting metal filled the night, the soft wet final thud of bodies falling to the ground. They were killing themselves in a hail of friendly fire. So much for their organization skills. He needed to get out now and not just for himself anymore.

Batman ran through the night, smashing those he came across but they were calling out his position to one another, he was trapped and there was no way he could support his own weight with his injured arm. He took a step back to avoid Penguins whirring blade and his boot crunched with the sickening sound of flesh beneath him. Another knife sliced into his side as he latched his cable to his arm, it took both arms to fire it to the top of a close building. He was lifting off and the world turned into one of blinding light and sound. A scream ripped through the night and it took a moment to realize it was his own. The muscles in his arm ripped as his body pulled forward, a bullet caught him between armored plates. It did not feel like a small round of hot metal burring into his chest, it felt like being hit by a semi. It was probably a combination of blood loss, pain, and adrenalin but as he swung into the darkness he swore he could hear the cold snick of blood raining from him onto the crowd and metal below. Metal whizzed around him but they were flashes in the night, the whistling in his ear as his vision grayed, the darkness was coming for him.

The cold breath of death was on his neck as he hit the roof, he had only seconds before the others found a way to him. No time to make sure, only to escape, to save himself, to save them all. He jumped off the other side of the building, barely pulling himself to the edge before Firefly was upon him. He was in free fall, his belt beeping franticly as his body stats weakened, cold harsh cement rushed up towards him, the screeching of tires filled the night air and salvation rolled beneath him, closing him away and whipping him into the night as the dark knight was lost to sweet oblivion.

The Joker raced through the underbelly and slums of Gotham City. It was not true, it could not be, Batman would not do that to him. He would not let himself die at the hands of petty mindless pawns. The news screeched at him through the open windows of cars, every store window he passed battered the false news against him, over and over no matter how he tried to avoid it the image of that scum dancing around, mindlessly killing what they could never understand. No, not killing, those nothings did not kill Bats and he was going to make sure of that.

The higher end of the band of fools traipsing across the television screen would be harder to find but the lackeys were almost too easy. Hunting them did nothing to assuage the rage building in his chest. He screeched to a halt in the road outside the hideout, jumping out in a fury, he saw only red. Alone he burst inside the dive without a second thought, walking boldly to the back where even his own lackeys feared to tread. Faces flashed in his mind, these thugs who did not merit breath let alone full-fledged existence burned onto his retinas.

"You didn't kill The Batman." There were five of them, brave in their numbers, in the guns that hung heavy on their belts, in the number of friends assessing the lone man from across the room.

"Well well well if it isn't the Joker." The biggest, dumbest, ugliest oaf spoke for them, the finest representation they had. "Looks like you are the joke now. You couldn't even kill a little bat."

The rage was building, flooding into his arms, warming his flesh, making his fingers itch to be completed, sharpened by the familiar weight of his blades. This one would be the first to die. The rage sharpened to a fine deadly point, spearing into his mind, making him whole. "You. Did not. Kill. The Batman." He licked his lips, the scar tissue on his cheeks smooth and addictive, he did it again.

"We did you a favor clown!" The oaf laughed, Joker laughed to, except the oaf stopped laughing when a blade sunk into his throat cutting straight through his airway, Jokers cold tinkling laugher echoed through the silent room. Some people had no since of humor.

The four left attacked at once, no fun at all, they could hardly get the guns up before their screams turned into ruby bubbles and raspy gasps for air. No playmates for him, certainly not ones for the bat. Joker held his little knife up to the last living goon, sliding it lovingly into his mouth, how familiar and comforting the action seemed in his time of need.

"You did not kill the Batman." The man-oaf was crying, Jokers laugh was cold and thin, genius wasted on the brainless.

"No." It obviously hurt the man to speak, the blade cutting into sensitive pink flesh. "He escaped. Hurt- Might have died." Joker gave him one last parting smile as he removed the blade and brought it to the man's eye.

Another meaningless death, another wasted coward. "You did not kill the Batman." The blade squelched as it slipped home, there was a short scream and then silence he pulled the blade out and wiped the gore on the corpses stained shirt, it was time to rethink things.

The Joker slipped into his car, he might have been a little hasty. Questions he should have asked, answers he wanted poured into his mind, fueling his fire. How was he hurt? How badly? How long would his playmate be stuck at home without him? How long would the Joker be all alone in this city of mindless zombies?

But the panic that hung in the back of his mind like a poisonous cloud was fading. Batman was alive. They could continue their dance, only hindered for a time by these leaches, these pathetic nothings. He floored it to the scene of the battle, slipping easily into the darkness surrounded these children with guns and badges. There were chalk lines, blood splatter painted the ground and walls of the alley like a finger painting done by a younger version of himself, beautiful raw materials but no art, no finesse. One trail was different; the blood splattering in a line from increasing heights, there was a lot of it, enough to fill a daydream or two certainly. It took a minute to get to the top of the next building over but the cops had not even found the area, it was beautiful in its untouched purity. The Bats blood dripped thick and heavy to the far edge, he was alive when he jumped or fell. Joker sat on the edge letting his feet dangle in the darkness. He reached out and touched the dark red-black blood. It did not feel right, only he had the right to drawl this from the Batman.

It was cheating, a terrible joke to let these fools hurt Bats, the bat was his and they were ruining his games. For ages he had let these insignificant figures live but their grace period had come to an end. Anyone who stood between the Batman and the Joker had to die, time for their last punch line.