Laugh Lines

Aftermath

~Well I see my hands, I see my feet

I feel that blood that pumps in beat

But where the hell's my mind going now?

Dead gone now~

~Metallica~

Bruce Wayne had holed himself up in his penthouse. The situation could not have gone worse. He had caved in and gone to save the 12 Hostages. He brought Batman back out, a thing he had sworn he would not do, and it didn't even help. Joker had blown up the 11 hostages he still had with him. The elderly woman that Joker had released had a heart attack on the way to the hospital.

Bruce had been blown back by the explosion and had left in the confusion that had followed. He had made his way back to his penthouse and pulled the Batman suit off. He winced as he found a few pieces of shrapnel dug into his side. He cleaned the wounds as best as he could, and then he had gotten deliriously drunk.

Here he was, 2 full weeks later, and he hadn't left his apartment. He had almost finished his entire bar that had been full of alcohol. Bruce rolled over in his bed, groaning out loud. He smelled of sweat and booze. He pulled himself out of bed and into his bathroom. He didn't recognize the face that looked back at him.

He had dark circles under his eyes, his facial hair grown quite a bit. His skin looked pale and sick. He turned from the image and drug himself into the shower. He washed away the filth he had been lying in for the past two weeks. After he had cleaned himself thoroughly, he shaved his face. Once he looked a bit more acceptable, he left the bathroom and looked at his clothes.

He had spent too much time wallowing in his own feelings. He had part of a business to run and needed to get out of his place. He had locked away the suit he hated to wear. With that put away and safe, he called for a cleaning company to come clean the stale air from the penthouse he called home.

He felt the shame of his reaction wash over him. He knew he was better than this. He couldn't let the Joker win. It would be better to be proactive about this. Instead of finding Joker, Bruce had tucked tail and ran home. He was weak. This would not do. He had to pull himself together.

Joker was getting back into the swing of things. He hated recovery time. Lucky for him, he had the best healthcare around. His wife had been helping him immensely. She was apparently Gotham's best nurse, but he had been getting cabin fever, she hadn't let him out of her sight in the last two weeks.

He was getting bored, and if he didn't get out soon, he might end up hurting his wife. He didn't want to hurt her. Not really. He'd had an easier time breaking out of Arkham, than getting by his wife. He needed to get started on the next big thing. Gotham had had enough time to get back into the swing of normal life. He needed to get it all shook up again. It was more fun that way.

He had been so disappointed in Batman. He had a nagging feeling that he might have to just put the bat out of his misery. Before that happens though, he had bigger things to do. Peach had finally gone out, he assumed to go to work and he figured this was his only chance. He was currently fully dressed and waiting for Ace to pick him up from the house.

The honk of Ace's car horn pulled a smile on his face. He hurried out of the door and into Ace's front seat.

"Boss, you look good."

"Ace, my man, save the flattery for your wife. Just get me to the funhouse."

Ace chuckled and started driving. Joker was getting excited. It was good to be back out in the world. His stitches were out, though he still had pain that shot through him regularly. He could handle pain. Thankfully Ace was silent for the ride, letting Joker run things through his head.