(Flashback)
The fifteen year old stands in the window of Dr. Arkham's office, staring outside and the green leaves blowing in a nearby tree.
So full. Thriving so nicely in the summer heat. As a child he would have loved to have had a tire swing hanging from it's stout branches. To swing away without a care in the world... To truly, just once, be a child. No responsibility. No fear. No wondering where his next meal came from. Or if cops would be called to his home. To have enough faith and trust in his parents to be able to just be a child. To live for only fun... But that never happened.
He hears the doctor entering his office and his eyes slowly fall down to absolutely nothing at all. "Have a seat Jack," Dr. Arkham tells him.
But Jack only halfway looks over his shoulder to let Dr. Arkham know that he heard him, but declines his offer to sit. His eyes go back to the world outside of the window. "I'd rather enjoy the view doctor, if you don't mind."
The doctor sighs and sits behind his desk. "The university was kind enough to send your degrees to the hospital," he says pulling them from an envelope and admiring them. "It's a shame you weren't able to make the commencement ceremony."
"It was nothing more than a formality doctor. Moreso for the loved ones of the graduate. Of which, I have none," Jack says distantly, his eyes traveling up to the clouds in the sky.
The doctor clears his throat, "You have accomplished two degrees that ensure you a good job in the future. These degrees will make you an asset to society. Have you any idea what kind of job you might pursue?"
"One that pays the bills," Jack says reflexively, knowing it was the correct answer to give. Jack knows that it will be another three to six years before anyone would hire him, degrees or not.
"I'm confident that they will do just that Jack. Even a family if you want," the doctor carefully slides them back into the envelope.
Jack blinks and his eyes once again fall on nothing. "I don't think that's in the cards for me doctor."
"Well, you're still young. I'm sure your mind will change with time," he glances up at Jack.
"Time doctor? Surely with your degrees you know that time can't rewrite the damages already done. Time can't rewire the synapses of my brain," he says softly, his eyes now trained on the floor.
"Perhaps not Jack," the doctor stands with the envelope in his hand. He crosses over to Jack at the window and extends the envelope out to him, "But there is something that can."
"Oh?" Jack replies, "and what might that be?"
Dr. Arkham places a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Love," he gives him a reassuring smile.
The Joker's eyes open. He raises his head and can see Lucy and Bruce sleeping in the bed with him.
The dream was still fresh on his mind. As much as he hated to admit it, Dr. Arkham had been right. Love had changed everything for him.
He reaches over and pushes one of Lucy's strawberry locks from her eyes. She slightly stirs and makes a little noise before resettling. Her movement wakes Bruce. He rolls to his side and his eyes meet with the Joker's.
He slightly smiles at him and asks, "How did you become such a good father?"
"You think I'm a good father?" The Joker asks back.
Bruce rests his weight on his elbow, "Seeing you with Lucy makes me...envious of you. I wish I could have been a better father to..." Bruce's words trail off knowing how much J hated hearing Jason's name.
"I'm sure you were fine Bruce. You taught him so much," the Joker says, his eyes going back to Lucy.
Bruce softly sighs, "One could argue that you taught him more."
The Joker's eyes meet Bruce's once more, "One could argue back that I taught him nothing good. How to torture and kill, how to be a criminal. I manipulated the darkness in him for completely selfish reasons. I taught him things that I never want to teach Lucy."
"It wasn't entirely selfish J. Doing what you did prevented a war in the underworld. The death of the Joker would have left every criminal in the city fighting to obtain your power. It would have put Harley in eminent danger. She would have been killed," Bruce tells him. "You sound like you regret what you did," Bruce's forehead scrunches. That was an odd notion. Regret? The Joker?
"You know me better than most Bruce. Can't you tell I'm a man who is full of regret? Or do you buy into all those professional opinions? That I have no empathy? That the lives I've taken mean nothing to me? That I'm incapable of relationships?" The Joker wonders.
"No," Bruce shakes his head, "when I look into your eyes all I see is love staring back at me. I see it when you look at Lucy too. I know you can love. But I also know that you have a darkness in you as well. Sometimes I just can't wrap my head around how you can love so much, yet be the biggest criminal I have ever seen. Believe it or not, everything that happened with...Jason...taught me how to better understand you. You were both the result of life's circumstances. It's a survival instinct that was triggered through tragedy."
"You are the product of tragedy too Bruce, but you didn't take it to a dark place," the Joker points out. "And you had taught him how not to."
Bruce's eyes wander away, "I failed him. If I would have done things right you wouldn't have been able to turn him into you. You tried warning me about him for years. Somehow you always knew he would turn on me. I should have seen it too. I should have worked harder to fix him."
"Oh Bruce," the Joker pauses and gives Bruce a sympathetic look, "you can't fix tragic beginnings like he and I had. Drug addicted mothers, criminal fathers, living in poverty, being hungry... It's survival of the fittest and it engages that fight or flight response. We fought. And once you start a fight for survival, you never stop. You did far more for him than anyone else ever had or could. Don't blame yourself for not being able to deprogram something that you had no part in creating. It's me you should be blaming. I lured him in with all the trappings and promises that I knew would appeal to him. I deconstructed all the discipline you taught him. I created the monster."
"But I'm the one who put him in the world of monsters. Who takes a child to a crime scene? Who let's a child put their life on the line? He saw things that..."
The Joker cuts him off, "He saw things you couldn't even imagine Bruce. He didn't have a mansion, billions of dollars, or a father figure butler. All he had was himself and rage. And I know a thing or two about rage. Do you know what rage is Bruce? It's madness. It's a disease without a cure. An itch without a scratch. Trust me when I tell you that his fate was always inevitable. Take comfort in knowing that his time with you delayed it."
Bruce slightly nods, "You didn't have to kill him J." Bruce watches as something changes in the Joker's eyes. Something dark crept over them.
"I've killed for far less offenses than RAPING my wife and knocking her up!" The Joker can't help but raise his voice. It startles Lucy and she wakes with a whimper. The Joker sighs and swipes his hair back. It's as if the brush of his hand completely transformed his mood. "I'm sorry my sweet princess, daddy didn't mean to wake you. It's ok, go back to sleep," he smiles and kisses her head.
"Perhaps we should take this conversation out on the balcony," Bruce suggests.
The Joker lightly growls and rolls his eyes as Bruce throws the covers back and gets out of the bed. He hears straight out onto the balcony. The Joker tucks Lucy in and lays pillows on both sides of her. He then crosses the room and goes out onto the balcony with Bruce.
Bruce stood at the railing, his knuckles white as he clenched on to it. "J?...If you care enough about Harley to kill Jason...then what are you doing here with me?" He asks, almost choking on the words.
"She is my wife," the Joker says and looks down at his hands. But that wasn't what Bruce was asking and he knew it. Just like Harley, Bruce was questioning which one the Joker loved more.
"Yes, she is, yet here you are. With me. In my bed," Bruce says almost in a whisper.
"Well, technically it's your parents bed. haha," the Joker faintly chuckles, hoping to lighten the mood.
Bruce slightly looks over his shoulder at the Joker, "Stop joking. Answer me. Why are you here and not home with your wife? Your family? It must be a far better setup. Two people in your bed must be better than one, right?"
The Joker's eyes narrow, "Tell me Bruce, is that jealousy in your voice coming from an envious man who wishes for a similar setup? Or is it from a scorned lover?"
"You tell me, your IQ is higher than mine. Or maybe you're avoiding the question. Is that because you don't want to tell me the answer? Or is it because you don't know yourself?" Bruce's tone becomes a bit sharper.
The Joker sweeps his hair back and stares at the back of Bruce. This was almost verbatim of conversations he's had with Harley. Bruce was questioning what he meant to him. Because he doubted his love for him. "Bru..."
Bruce cuts him off, "Explain it to me J. You'll cheat on your wife. You'll kill my only family. And at the end of the day claim to love us both? How does that work in your head?" His words are even sharper.
The Joker slowly steps up to the railing beside Bruce. His stance mirrors Bruce's. He stares out into the darkness with him. "Oh Bruce," he sighs, "after all these years you still don't get me, do you? You still don't see how alike you and I are. Like you, I lost my parents, my only family, at an early age. I know, I know, I killed my father, and my mother never loved me, but it still left this hole in me. Just like the hole left in you by the death of your parents. It creates this...this anger...a feeling of injustice. You'll do anything to fill that empty void. Anything to try to kill that rage in you. You chose vengeance. To avenge your parents unjust and untimely deaths. I couldn't choose that obviously. Instead, I chose wrath. But when you strip it all down to the simplest form, they're really the same thing."
Bruce looks over to the Joker, "My vengeance doesn't take lives."
"Oh really? Maybe you just choose not to see it," the Joker turns to look at Bruce with dead eyes. "So allow me to remind you. How about the very first time you donned the ol' cape and cowl? Hum? Alfred Stryker, remember him? Or how about Dr. Death? Mikhail? The mad monk? The man you pushed on a sword. The giant you hung. You buried KGBeast alive, but he was dumb enough to live and come after your former first Robin years later. So you broke his fucking neck and left him to die in the snow. How about Jose Garzonas? Or how about the bleach fire you started that killed at least a half dozen guys? And let's not forget all the souls lost by accident. Accidents you created with your vengeance. So don't you stand there and tell me your vengeance doesn't kill Bruce. You forget, I've looked in your eyes when you're right there at the brink. I see what you can't. Your little batfile on me says my eyes are like a sharks, lifeless, cold and uncaring, consumed with madness. Well Bruce I have a collection of old pictures you should see. Remember, in the beginning, how I loved taking those pictures of you when we were fighting? So you just go right on and think you aren't a killer. You are. Just like me."
"You kill people because you enjoy killing. You love the misery it brings. You want the whole world to feel your misery. So you play these sick games in the hopes of making them just as crazy as you are. I'm not the one who is crazy! I haven't been in and out of Arkham since I was ten!" Bruce shouts, not at all liking the facts that the Joker was throwing his way.
A smirk starts at one side of the Joker's mouth and spreads into a grin. "My dear, blind bat," he shakes his head, "I thought you, of all people, could see through my very convincing act. Crazy keeps me out of prison. Crazy keeps everyone terrified to cross me. Crazy is what they call every calculated move I've ever made. Crazy is a label you slap on something that you can't understand. But you should understand quite well, god knows I've tried to show you. You dress in a costume. You risk your life, and the lives of those closest to you. You tear apart the city you claim to protect. And you really think you're a pillar of mental health? HAHAHA! And let's not forget the cherry on the cake of your sanity! You're in love with me!"
Bruce stares, his brows furrowed, "So you aren't in love with me too?" His brows furrow even more.
The Joker turns his body to face Bruce. "Bruce, my love for you is the craziest thing about me too. There are two people in this whole goddamn world whose deaths would break me. Change me. Dare I say, end me. You and Lucy. Sure, I might shed a tear for a handful of others. I would miss them. Grieve them. But I would carry on. My brother, my wife, Ivy, they're in that group."
"Yeah?" Bruce glances at him, "and what group did Jason fall into? He was our brother J. The one you always said was just like you. The one who kept this city from fighting for your power and territory. The one who gave up everything to do it. The only blood I had in the world. I loved him. Even before I knew he was my brother. I adopted him as my son. I raised him to be a good man. And you ripped him away from me. You killed the only one I had and I never even got to tell him what he meant to me. And you say that you love me? What kind of love is that?" His face was straight, but his soul was aching. They were things that he needed to get off his chest. He knew Jason was really alive, but Jason wouldn't forgive him until the Joker was dead.
The Joker's mouth rest agape as his head slightly tilted. The words didn't come out right away. He took a moment to allow Bruce's words resonate in his mind. When he does speak his words come in a single monotone as opposed to the normal flamboyance of his speech. "It's an obsessed love Bruce. A jealous and selfish love. It's my prize for the life I've lived, as well as my penance. It's indulgent because I feel so little else. Jason got to be at your side. A job, a privaledge I have so desperately always wanted. He not only had Batman, but he had Bruce too. And we both know, that they are two separate people living in one body. You know, kinda like Jack and Joker. I would have settled for one, but he had both and I hated him for it. I could have turned Jester into my doppelganger. It would have been easy because he required no surgery. But I chose Jason. I chose him to rip him away from you. Not to hurt you, because I honestly never once thought about how it would effect you. I couldn't see past my own hatred of him." The Joker pauses, he looks out into the darkness as his mind reels. "Your love for him...I could shatter it in seconds Bruce. You don't know how much he's really hurt you. More than his leaving you."
"You have no clue J, no clue how much that hurt me!" He shouts banging his fists on top of the balcony railing. "Not only Jason hurt me!" Bruce grabs the Joker's arms and shakes him as he yells in his face, "You hurt me too!"
A trigger inside the Joker's brain was activated by the way Bruce shook him. It was the same way his father had done it. It awakened a scared little Jack. It was uncomfortable for the Joker to feel all the things his childhood self endured. He just wants the shaking to stop. So he opens his mouth and the words literally fall out. "He is the reason your parents are dead!"
And Bruce stopped shaking him. His eyes widen and he becomes paralyzed in the moment. "What did you say?"
"I sware it on my daughter's life. It's the truth," the Joker says as he carefully watches Bruce's body language, knowing that he could snap at any moment.
"No. H-h he..." Bruce tries to shut down, so that he wouldn't hear the things the Joker was about to say.
"Your father got my mother pregnant. My father found out. And one night he and I walked from The Narrows toward the Monarch Theater. We stopped one block from it. My father told me to wait in the alley. Said he'd be right back. It wasn't long before I heard the gunshots. When he came back for me, I saw a watch on his wrist that hadn't been there before."
"No," Bruce shakes his head in opposition, "Joe Chill was found guilty."
"I saw the blood on his shoes Bruce. I could smell the gunpowder on his hand. My father killed your father. The death of your parents created Batman. And Batman made me."
Tears began forming in Bruce's blue eyes. His head drops and he clenched the balcony railing again. "Why haven't you ever told me all this?"
"Because I didn't want to be tied to the greatest tragedy in your life. I didn't want you to have flashbacks of your parents death everytime you looked at me. You should thank me for killing him. I brought absolution to your greatest tragedy. I avenged your parents death." He twirls his wrist.
Bruce just stares at the Joker. His ego.... He was proud. Proud that he killed Jason. "You didn't have to beat him to death with a fucking crow bar."
"I showed him mercy by killing him quick! I could have tortured him for days! Weeks! Months! Your socialized society world is nothing like mine! My world is a fucking chess game! It's a nonstop fight for survival! For dominance. Power. Control. It's a dog fight! And yeah, maybe I've gotten accustomed to killing my problems! But try, just for a moment, to put yourself in my shoes! What if it was your wife he slapped around?! Your wife who he put in a position to be shot? What if he raped your wife!? What if it made a child?! Tell me that wouldn't blind you with rage?!" The Joker shouts, only inches from Bruce's face.
"I couldn't kill my own brother," Bruce simply answers. Suddenly the sky lit up and the bat signal became visible. Bruce sighs, "I've gotta go. But when I get back, we're finishing this conversation." And Bruce walked away, leaving the Joker alone with his thoughts. Thoughts he didn't want to have.