Unsuspecting Hero (Batjokes)

Chapter 2

Joker awoke with a gasp, shooting up only to hiss at the aggravation it caused to his wounds. He quickly noticed he was in a medical gown, and began to squirm at the IV trip inside of his arm. 

"Good, you're awake" A voice said next to him, and Joker flushed at the embarrassing squeak that left his lips having being startled. There sat an old man that Joker didn't recognize, and he grew even more uneasy. Though, he quickly realized the others attire. If he was in a hospital, which it sure did look like, it was weird for one of the doctors to be in a black suit.

"My name is Alfred. Master Bruce had brought you back after running into you at the park" 

The memories came flooding back, and Joker gnawed at his bottom lip as he contemplated the events. "Bats brought me back to...Wayne Tower?" He asked, confused mostly. He received a curt nod in reply. "You had passed out, and you needed your wounds treated. Master Bruce didn't think it was wise to take you to a hospital in your condition. His words, not mine" Alfred said, standing up. "He had to take care of a business meeting, but I will let him know you are awake the moment he is finished" The older man stood up, seemingly leaving as he opened the door. Though, Alfred turned around, fixing Joker a hard glare. "Don't try anything. We have cameras installed at every angle" He said before taking his leave.

Joker had only just met the man, but he already knew that he liked him.

Turning to his surroundings, he took note of everything he could see. The walls weren't padded, per se, but they were cushioned. Joker was curious as to why. After all, Joker was the only criminal that has probably been in this room. Was it installed just for him? Though, it seemed like a short amount of time to have the walls done. Now that he thought about it, Joker wasn't sure how long he was passed out.

Everything else just looked like basic medical supplies. Pulling the IV drip out of his arm with a small grunt of pain, he stood. His knees buckled underneath him, and he had to take hold of the bed just to support himself from falling over. 

Hit with a sudden thought, his back straightened out in panic. How extensive was Batman's search of his injuries? What if he had to explain things he didn't want to? Wobbling to the bathroom over on the right side of the room, he pulled the curtain so the camera wouldn't pick up on him. 

He curled up on himself, careful of his injuries, and closed his eyes. He reached down and felt that he was still wearing his shorts, and breathed a massive sigh of relief. He doubt they would have taken them off just to put them back on him, so one of his main injuries was secret. 

He knew that the giant 'H' burned into his chest was already seen by the Bats. It was too obvious not to be noticed anyway, and he could feel the anti-burn cream stuck to the wound. Lastly, the worst injury. The only permanent one. 

The one under his shorts would go away soon, the branding on his chest would flake away with the right care, but this one? This one he will never be able to get rid of. A forever reminder of what he had to put up with. 

He felt under his eye softly, yet couldn't feel the nerves under it anymore. So he prodded. Pinched, dug, scratched under his eye yet still felt nothing. He hadn't realized he had started to cry until he felt the tears splash against his fingers. 

Joker couldn't control his body wracking with sobs. It hurt his wounds, hurt his pride, but the sobbing wouldn't stop and he curled in on himself and just cried. Cried and Cried and Cried. No amount of medical treatment that the Bats did will ever fix him back to his normal self.

He was broken. He was once a man, who had broke. But then he fell into that bank of acid, and then he became a broken man who could cope. Could make up distractions for himself and dance with the bat using blades and skill even if it was unethical.

But now that man was gone, and he was just broken, again.

Joker felt an arm wrap around him, and he flinched, kicking them away with a gasp. His eyes widened when he watched Bruce Wayne stumble back with a shocked expression on his face. "I-I'm..." He wanted to say he was sorry, but when did he ever apologize for anything he did?

So he just laughed. Not jolly, not manic, not to cope with his emotions, he just laughed. because he was broken, and he didn't know what else to do.

And if Bruce had pulled him into a hug and just let him sob into his chest, well, neither of them talked about it.