I miss you.

Chapter 5: Talk to Me

The patients at Arkham were not typically allowed to visit each other in their own cells, so Bruce was forced to wait until the allotted free-time to come into contact with his nemesis. After some searching, the found the clown there on a bench in the far back corner of the room, avoiding the other inmates. The Joker scanned the room with a dark sort of calculation, probably imagining up a plan to escape the asylum, and who he'd have to kill in order to do so.

Somehow, the thought made Batman sad. This man, who he'd only just begun to finally try to understand, could only think dark thoughts. Nothing happy really ever entered his mind, ironically as it may seem. With all the sick "jokes" the jester was always cracking and cackling at, he had only known the happiness that he'd made up for himself. He didn't know what it really meant to be happy.

Being happy, to Bruce, meant something more than feeling optomistic. Being happy meant caring for others, too. After all, if happiness is something we all strive for, then shouldn't we all try to help each other for that reason?

The Joker obviously didn't feel that way. Whether it was just due to the fact that he didn't understand this concept, or if it was just a result of his mental illness removing all empathy from his psyche, Bruce wasn't sure. One thing was certain, however; Joker was right in some ways, all along. They really were the same.

Both were damaged, both were insane, and neither of them knew how to really be happy.

Now, the Bat understood. He saw the other man as a mission. This was what it all led up to. Two guys in a lunatic asylum, learning not to hurt anymore.

Bruce cautiously approached the mint-haired man with a feeling of determination in his heart. It was only when they caught each other's eyes that he realized the tight feeling in his chest. In all reality, despite having almost obsessively been thinking about what he had to say to the Joker, the words wouldn't come out. Rather, he didn't know how to start. The two men stood facing each other in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. Suddenly, Joker's eyes lit up with recognition.

"...Batsy?" He muttered, cocking his head in confusion. Bruce cleared his throat and lowered his head. With his rage being subsided for once, Bruce found that the Joker actually intimidated him a bit more than he thought. Joker chuckled, mistaking his caution for annoyance.

"Heh, oh, okay, fiiinee! In here, it's no more big bad bat, I see, Brucie."

Bruce cringed at this pet name and sat down in the chair beside the Joker's wordlessly. It amused Joker seeing Batman being so docile. He chuckled.

"So, Brucie. I heard the big bad bat took quite the hit yesterday" Joker's eyes went dark again. "Don't try that again."

"...why say that?" Bruce sighed. "You wanted me to crack, and I did."

Joker seemed flabbergasted by this statement.

"You idiot, I wanted you to kill me, not yourself!" Joker put his palm to his face. "You just don't get it, do you!?" Bruce recoiled in nervousness. Despite his past as Batman, he felt afraid being locked up in here with his thoughts, even if those thoughts turned out to be happy ones. Joker felt quite disappointed and even angry about this new attitude.

"BATS!! What is it with you?! Stop acting like a scared puppy! Aren't you going to beat me up or something?!" Joker frowned expectantly, but Bruce only shook his head.

"No, Joker. You said it yourself. I have no reason for that anymore."

"Or ever," Joker corrected with a mutter. "That's never stopped you before! You're the reason I even bother with all this! I do it for you! So you'll understand! You're so fun to play with, Brucie! And what fun are you now, hm?" Joker tapped his foot impatiently.

Bruce looked at his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with the jester.

"Joker..." He started, "you've already proven your point. I'm in the asylum, aren't I?" Joker nodded hesitantly. "Yes," said Bruce, answering for himself. Neither man said anything for a long while, and the both of them were soon called back to their cells.

Bruce swallowed down his bitter pills before lying down to sleep. However, like usual, that probably wouldn't be happening. Surprisingly though, that night, his dreams were oddly pleasant. These were those kinds of dreams that Bruce couldn't remember at all, but the feelings stuck with him when he awoke. That was a good morming- he felt optimistic. Peaceful, even.

The optimism was good. The peaceful part of the deal, he wasn't sure he liked. He was so used to fighting, it seemed like that was all he could keep on his mind other than the Joker. His thoughts swam confusingly. He really just wanted someone to talk to.

And for him, that someone was the clown himself.

He wasn't sure why the hell he would go to him for anything, but something had changed over these past few months that he still couldn't explain to himself. All he knew was that Joker might understand.There was nothing else to worry about. Joker had already kind of won, which infuriated Batman, but not as much as he thought he should've been. In a way, he was even relieved. Hell, he knew Joker wouldn't kill him for whatever reason, so really, now was the opportune time to get acquainted with his nightmare.

It was finally free time, and Bruce immediately set out to seeking the Joker. He wasn't hard to find. In the center of the room he stood there cackling, while the rest of the patients crowded as far from him as possible.

"You think you'll get better!" Joker yelled. "You honestly think you'll be okay!? You morons, it's all a lie! It's a-"

Joker stopped yelling the moment he caught Bats' gaze. This time, it was Batman who broke the silence.

"Joker. Can I see you for a minute?" Joker stopped and stared at the bat quizzically. He chuckled.

"Oooh, looks like big scary rich boy Wayne wants to teach me a lesson!" He threw his head back and cackled before following Bruce out of the room. Bruce paused in a hallway, when he was a significant distance from the other patients. His chest felt tight and it was difficult to get the words out, but Joker waited.

"Do you really think life has no purpose?" He asked quietly. Joker smiled.

"I don't think, Bat-boy. I know."

"Well, I've been thinking. And I think you're wrong." Joker opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce cut him off.

"No matter what you believe, there's always one main point in living. Enjoying the life you've been given. Being happy." Joker scoffed.

"I am happy, you big dolt! Why do you think I'm smiling all the time?!"

"Maybe it's because you're afraid." Joker narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"You're afraid to admit it," Bruce continued, "but you're not really happy at all. You don't realize that in this hopeless world you've made up for yourself, there is hope. But you kill anyway. You ruin people's lives for laughs. You take away other's happiness to fulfill your own "

Joker growled.

"No, no! YOU don't get it, Bruce! I don't care about other people! I never have! As long as I'm happy doing what I do, why should I care how anyone else feels?!"

"Because by helping other people, you're helping yourself. We all strive for happiness and peace in this world. In reality, it's all we live for. So shouldn't we help each other to achieve that? After all, like you said before, we're all the same."

"But they're not me! Why the hell do I care how they feel?" Joker repeated. Bruce sighed. It was no use trying to negotiate with a sociopath. The Joker, he knew, was completely unable to feel empathy. And still, the bat knew that wasn't his fault.

Maybe...maybe if he helped the Joker be happy, he'd understand. Maybe the cure for madness was kindness and guidance.

Maybe the clown could still be saved.

Maybe the clown could save him, too.