Blue Bird
thebatjokesonyou
BLUE BIRD
Batman was never going to admit he cared about Joker. Well, as of now anyway. He was going to remain cool and stoic and an inspiration to orphans everywhere. ((Gotham's orphans were rated #4 on the chart of Most Inspired Orphans World Wide)) It wouldn't be inspirational to little Timmy if he was admitting his crush on the Clown Prince of Crime.
I mean, if he had a crush. Batman didn't have a crush on him. Nope. Not since the day they admitted their hatred and Batman really got a good look at the other as they formed human chains to pull the city together. It wasn't fueled at all by Joker suddenly doing smaller but somehow "cuter" crimes and only doing them every once in awhile. Certainly wasn't a thing Batman spent all night thinking and pondering about. Not at all. He hadn't even considered reforming Joker to help them and at least put his explosive tendencies to good use.
None of those things had ever occurred. At least, Batman never said they had or hadn't. Denial is a great way of dealing with issues like that.
On yet another night in Gotham City, Batman found himself in the 2 step process of thought he was always in while using his grappling hook during patrol. Step 1, think about Joker in a way he shouldn't. Step 2, deny, deny, deny. It was going as nicely as it usually did. Which meant that Batman was going to toss and turn all freaking night.
Before he could move on to the next 4 step process (go home, let your thoughts run wild, turn on angsty music and increase the denial x10) he heard a noise coming from a nearby rooftop that shook him out of his thoughts. It was odd, to say the least. The Dark Knight knew better than to ignore sounds on rooftops. He paused, stopping on the roof before listening, trying to find the sound's origin.
The sound became clearer as Batman walked towards it. Sniffling? Was someone sick? No...it was a different kind of sniffling. The kind that could lead to sickness in the cold night air. Some coughing and shudders confirmed that it wasn't a sick tone. It was a depressing, pathetic tone. Crying. But whoever was crying was trying and failing to keep quiet. Muffled under what was probably their hand, Batman was getting curious as to who the mystery griever was.
He quietly hoped that it was a very pretty, single, interesting and interested woman that would blow Joker out of the water and make his job easier again. The green-haired clown was absolutely distracting, if nothing else. Through punches and blows, the adrenaline rush he had was getting drowned out by other emotions. Guilt, hesitance and some emotion he wasn't going to even pretend did or even could exist. Even a moderately pretty super villainess would be a welcome distraction.
Of course, the universe said, "Aw, that's cute, you actually think I'm that sweet??? Wow, Batman, you're more of a sucker than I thought."
Not that Batman spoke Universian. He didn't need to speak some strange cosmic tongue to see the bright green hair, purple vest and pulled up orange sleeves from behind. Nor did he need to understand a heavenly dialect to watch the pale body shake and shudder and heave forward with coughs.
Batman suddenly felt extremely guilty and had the good sense in his conflicted brain to leave and give Joker some space to allow him to cry until he was smiling those big ol' smiles again. That's what was best, right? Besides, Batman wasn't known for his expert comforting skills. Most of the conversations he had with Joker weren't really soothing or supportive. Unless you call being forced to listen to monologues or mad ramblings soothing/supportive.
