Batjokes Oneshots

The Façade of Love

This is a draft I found from like 2019...                  I am going to assume that I wrote this because the Harley Quinn show came out... If not, idk what...

The dark alley ways of Gotham lay silent, their secrets cloaked by the veil of night. A solitary figure, cloaked in the shadows, bent of the the crumpled form of the Joker. The Clown Prince of Crime's usual malevolent smile was twisted into a grimace of pain. 

His purple and green suit was torn, a stark contrast to the crimson blood that painted the concrete around him. Batman's eyes, sharp and gleaming with determination, search the area for any signs of the perpetrators, but the only company he found was the symphony of sirens echoing through the city streets. 

With a fluid motion, Batman scooped the Joker into his arms, his mind racing with questions. Who had done this? Where they really a threat? He knew that the Joker had a twisted, toxic bond with most people, but what could have drawn someone to do this?

The quiet hum of the Batmobile's engine filled the alley as he loaded his unconscious adversary in the backseat, the sirens growing fainter as he sped towards the confines of Wayne Manor.

 Upon arriving at the manor, Alfred, ever the devoted butler, rushed to the side of the Batmobile. His brow furrowed with concern as he took in the grisly sight of the Joker, battered and broken. 

With a nod from his friend, Alfred gently carried Joker into the medical bay, setting him down on the cold, steel table. The room was bathed in a soft, clinical glow, casting elongated shadows on the walls. 

Batman began to meticulously tend to Joker's wounds, his movements precise and efficient despite the emotional turmoil churning within him. As the Joker's breathing evened out, the tension in the room was palpable. 

The Joker's eyes fluttered open, his vivid green irises locking onto Batman's concerned gaze. He let out a pained chuckle, "Oh Batsy, always the hero." His voice was a raspy whisper, the usually boisterous cackle reduced to a shadow of its former self. He tried to sit up, but a sharp stab of pain sent him back down, his body protesting the movement. 

Batman's hands paused in their ministrations, his eyes never leaving the Joker's face. "What happened?" He asked, his voice devoid of its usual gruffness, replaced by a gentle curiosity that seemed almost foreign in the confines of the mask.

The Joker coughed, a wet, painful sound that seemed to shake his entire body. "Ah, Harley," he began, his voice tinged with bitterness. "She's got a taste for the green these days. Can't say I blame her. Ivy's got her way with...things." He winced as Batman applied a disinfectant to a particularly nasty gash on his cheek. "But I guess that's what you get for playing with snakes right?" 

The air in the medical bay grew thick with an unspoken understanding. Batman's grip tightened around the cloth he was using to clean the Joker's wound. His mind raged with the implications of Harley's betrayal. It wasn't just about the Joker's bruised ego, it was about the balance of power in Gotham. 

If Harley Quinn was turning on the Joker, than the dynamic of their twisted relationship had shifted, and the city might feel it's tremors. He applied a bandage with more force than necessary, his thoughts a tumultuous storm. "Ivy can be...persuasive," he said carefully, his voice a low rumble.

The Joker's eyes gleam with a mix of pain and amusement. "Oh, she's more than that," he rasped, a smile tugging on the corners of his blood stained lips. "But she's got nothing on you Batsy, you're the one who keeps me on my toes." He paused, studying the dark knight's expression. "Or is it the other way around?" The Joker's words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in a whisper of intimacy.