A Man With Two Masks// Bruce Wayne Love Story

The Laughing Bat

Bruce's P.O.V.

Things have been crazy in Gotham. More so than usual, which wasn't surprising when Joker had escaped Arkham again. Hearing screams while driving, I pulled into an alley to find a man tied up and on his knees. I turned him to find he had a large Joker smile. I tried using my Joker serum antidote on the man, but it didn't work. Not being able to do anything more, I dropped him off at a hospital and headed home to find Ella upstairs watching the news.

"Tonight all of Gotham once again finds itself terrorized by Joker," the newsman said. "Only this time instead of breaking the law, he's enforcing it. Dawning the costume and mocking the methods of his constant rival the Batman, Joker has inexplicably turned to fighting crime. The crazed catch? It seems the offenses he targets barely qualify as crimes at all. And as Kimberly Smith, the seventy-eight-year-old grandmother of ten learned after absentmindedly driving for three blocks with her turn signal flashing, while the crimes may be minor Jokers punishment of them is anything but."

I turned off the TV, having heard enough.

"Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery," Alfred quipped. "But why do you suppose the tribute, Master Bruce?"

"Cheap knock-off is more like it," Ella muttered, and I agreed.

I could also tell she was frustrated since we had both agreed it was dangerous to leave the manor, on the off chance a very very small crime was committed and Joker happened to be around, so she hadn't left in almost a week. Usually, she'd be fine with that, cause I'm pretty sure she hasn't read my entire library quite yet, but she was wanting to go visit her brother and dad and now had to put it off.

"What troubles me most is that my antidote failed to cure Joker's jaywalker," I said.

"It must be a new strain of Joker gas."

"How very ghastly indeed," Alfred said.

"We'll need a sample of the new gas to make a cure," Ella stated.

"I'll do my best to get it while out tomorrow night," I said.

That Night... Bruce's P.O.V.

I crashed into Joker just as he was about to attack two little girls who were drawing on the sidewalk.

"The costume party's over, Joker," I stated, glancing over to see the girls running off.

"Joker?" Joker asked. "Didn't you hear? The clown prince of crime's checked out. He just couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take the Batman. Always there to thwart his latest scheme. Well, it was really starting to drive him mad." I grabbed him by the collar, bringing him close. "But then Joker thought, if he couldn't beat the bat, he'd be the bat."

"Then Gotham has one Batman too many."

"Which means one of us has gotta go."

"My thoughts exactly."

I pulled out a pair of cuffs, when Joker threw down a green smoke bomb with streamers, using it as a distraction to grapple away. I quickly followed, giving chase on the rooftops. We stopped on one roof and both drew out batarangs, throwing them and they crashed into each other. Joker really was imitating me in every way, down to my most basic moves. Joker and I fought in hand-to-hand combat, but then he tackled me off of the roof. The thin cloth roof of a stand only partially broke my fall, but I still hit the ground hard and passed out.

When I came to I instantly felt the pain in my back, but ignored it and looked up to find Joker untwisting a can. A toy snake jumped out of it and latched to my arm, long and sharp fangs piercing my suit and sinking into my skin. I grabbed it and threw it away, gripping my arm. The bite hurt a lot, but the poison that entered with it was burning my veins. Joker grabbed the snake and opened its mouth to show vials of green substance.