Chapter Text
That looked like it hurt.
He hadn’t meant to swing the crowbar that hard. It was supposed to be funny. A little nod to what he did to Robin all those years ago. A small tap on Batman’s head to get him riled up. Nothing serious. But Batman was lying on the floor, completely knocked out.
Joker thought that the cowl would have offered better protection than it apparently did. He stored that little piece of information in the back of his head for later use, but right now, he needed to figure out what to do.
He wasn’t going to let Batman die. He was way too fun for that. If Batman died, then Joker would have to stop his life of crime for good. There’d be no reason to continue. Comedy without an audience was pointless and Batman was the only audience he ever cared to perform for.
No, Batman had to live through this. Joker dropped the crowbar and stepped closer.
The cowl would have to stay on. He didn’t want to see the man under the mask. It would complicate the first aid, but it was a necessary evil. He brought his face close to Batman’s and poked him. He did it again, a little harder.
He remained unconscious.
Joker frowned. He eyed the crowbar and picked it up.
“Wake up,” he said, tapping Batman in the head lightly with it. “I’ve got Catwoman. I’m going to skin her and make a coat.”
When Batman didn’t reply, he hit him again, harder this time.
“Batsy! You won’t believe this. Commissioner Gordon is evil now! You have to stop him. He’s terrorizing the city!”
Joker raised the crowbar high above him. “The GCPD finally cracked my backstory! They know who I am. Wake up so you can find out!”
He smashed the crowbar back down. There was a sickening crack and Joker almost thought he broke Batman’s skull until the cowl fell away in two pieces.
Joker averted his eyes, but it was too late. Under the mask was Bruce Wayne.
He had his suspicions, of course. What kind of criminal would he be if he hadn’t tried to figure it out? But once he’d started to put the pieces together, he decided he was better off not knowing.
He got up, extremely disappointed with how the day turned out. This was supposed to be a fun little operation. A small scheme to pass the time while the cards fell for the larger plays in the future. This wasn’t something he wanted to kill Batman over and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to find his identity out from.
Crowbars… He’d need to remember not to use one of those again unless he meant it.
Joker stared at the man on the floor. He wasn’t going to call an ambulance, that was for sure. He’d keep Batman’s identity a secret for as long as he could. He could leave right now and pretend nothing happened. Pray that Batman woke up on his own, or one of his Robins came to his rescue. No one would know that Joker saw who he was under the mask. It would be like nothing happened, that was, if Batman managed to survive the ordeal.
He dropped the crowbar by Batman’s head and closed his eyes.
“Think!”
Then, he heard a muffled groan.
Joker opened his eyes quickly to see Batman. He was grimacing, clearly in a lot of pain. But he was alive.
“Oh good!” Joker said, clapping his hands together. “You had me worried for a moment.”
Batman furrowed his brow, looking up through half-shut eyes, and blinked. “Who are you?”
Joker’s smile fell from his face. The world felt like it had stopped. He wished he had something to hold onto because his balance was failing him.
“You don’t remember me?” he asked, taking a few cautious steps toward him.
“No,” Batman replied, searching Joker’s face with a pained expression. “I… I don’t.”
“Shit.” Joker crouched down next to him. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
“What… What happened?”
“You fell,” Joker said quickly. He wasn’t going to tell him the truth. There was no reason to. If Batman didn’t know who he was, then at least he’d use it to his advantage. “I tried catching you, but you were down before I could do anything to help.”
Batman eyed the crowbar next to him.
“You tripped on that,” Joker added. “You’re very clumsy, you know that, Batman?”
“My name is Batman?”
Joker’s eyes widened. “You don’t even know who you are? This might jog your memory.” He picked up the pieces of his broken cowl and handed them over.
Batman stared intensely at the black mask. His fingers traced over the edges and settled on the eyes. “It’s not ringing a bell.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Joker asked, panic rising in his chest. If he didn’t before, he really regretted hitting him with the crowbar now.
He thought for a moment. “Nothing,” he said finally. “It’s blank.”
“I’ll help you out. You’re the Batman. You fight crime in Gotham City. You’re a brooding but lovable hero who always manages to save the day. Your moral code is frustratingly rigid. You don’t kill, no matter what. Even if someone really deserves it.”
“You keep saying I’m Batman. Is that really my name?” he asked incredulously.
Joker stuffed down the revulsion in his throat. “No, your name is Bruce Wayne. Batman is your persona.”
“I dress up like a bat and fight crime?”
“You sure do!”
Batman didn’t look like he believed him. “And who are you?”
Joker thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to plant false memories in Batman’s head, not if he wanted things to go back to the way they were. But would he ever get an opportunity like this again? It would be a funny prank to play on him, making the Bat think that they were on the same team.
“I’m your lovable sidekick, Joker!” He stuck out his hand. He couldn’t resist the allure of such a plot. It was just too hilarious. “Whenever you get into trouble, I’m there to pull you out. Like I just did.”
“Well, thanks,” he said, taking his hand and shaking it. “Would you give me a moment? This is all a little strange and my head is killing me.”
“Take all the time you need, Batsy.” Joker got up and walked around the warehouse, humming to himself. He snuck glances at Batman who was rubbing the back of his skull.
This was going surprisingly well. Sure, Batman lost his memory, but all that meant was that Joker could plant better ones in his mind. Either the Bat got his old memories back with time and things went back to how they were, or Joker would have a mentally pliable Batman to control for as long as he could keep up the ruse. Both options were fine by him.
Gotham would go crazy. Batman and the Joker, teaming up and wreaking havoc on the city. He never thought the day would come. If he played his cards right like he knew he could, this might be the best thing that ever happened to the two of them.
“I think I need to lie down,” Batman called out, shaking Joker out of his train of thought. “Can you take me home?”
Joker froze.
He obviously couldn’t take Batman back to the Batcave. Sure, he knew where it was, but he also knew the butler would be there. It was imperative that Batman be kept away from anyone who might be able to shatter the illusion for as long as possible.
“Sure thing, Bats,” he said, walking over and stretching out his hand. “Get up, and follow me.”
Batman held on as Joker pulled him up. He dusted himself off and followed Joker out of the warehouse.
“Why were we here?” he asked.
“We were fighting crime, of course. Someone was doing something bad, stealing purses, mugging grandmas, taking candy from babies, yadda- yadda. Then you slipped, and they got away. What a shame,” Joker brushed him off.
The real reason they’d been in the warehouse was because of Joker’s latest escape from Arkham. He’d blown the front gates off the place in a mad dash to get away from the poking and prodding by doctors. He hadn’t been very careful when he got out, and Batman easily picked up his trail. He was just trying to cause as much chaos as he could before he was inevitably brought back.
Joker had grabbed the first thing he could find in the trunk of his stolen car and it just so happened to be a crowbar. It really wasn’t something he’d planned out, but the comedic potential had been too high to resist using it.
For things to have worked out the way they did, he must have accrued a lot of good karma over the years.
He saw the Batmobile parked nearby but quickly walked in the opposite direction to the car he had stolen. He didn’t want to drive in Batman’s car in case someone tried to contact him over the radio.
“Hop in,” he said, holding the door open on the passenger side.
Batman got in the seat and he slammed the door behind him, walking to the driver’s door. He opened it, got in, and began hotwiring the car.
He could feel Batman’s eyes on him, probably wondering why he didn’t have the keys to a car he supposedly owned.
“Don’t worry.” He turned to grin at Batman. “I just lost the keys. It’s my car. I wouldn’t be a very good crimefighter if I were a thief, would I?”
Batman laughed a little. “I was about to ask.”
Joker’s heart leaped at the sound of his laughter. It was gruff and a little strained because of the pain he was most likely in, but it was genuine.
The car started. Joker took a second to compose himself. He was almost too giddy to focus on driving, but he needed to get out of the city. The last thing he needed was the GCPD to show up and put a stop to this before the fun even had a chance to start.
He pulled out of the alley and got onto the main road, driving away from the Industrial District and towards Amusement Mile.
The abandoned carnival wasn’t exactly Joker’s first choice to take Batman. He was worried that the setting would be too familiar and that it might awaken some memories of their exploits, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go. If Batman wanted a place to rest and the Batcave was out of the question, the only other place he could take him was his own lair.
So Amusement Mile it was.
Batman looked around curiously when they arrived. “I live here?”
“You sure do.” Joker smiled. “You and I bunk in the circus tent, right over there.” He pointed to the red and white big top in the distance, partially obscured by the Ferris wheel and rollercoaster by the entrance.
“It’s really odd. I have no memory of any of this.”
“You think I’m lying to you or something?” Joker asked, hoping that by suggesting it first, Batman wouldn’t assume it to be true.
“No, it’s not that. I just… It’s a strange feeling. I’m trying to think back to the past, but it’s not coming to me.”
“It’ll come back to you eventually,” Joker said, parking the car, feeling pleased that his plan worked. “For now, don’t worry about it. Rest up.”
Batman stepped out of the car with Joker. They walked up to the ticket booth and stepped over the turnstiles blocking their way.
“Are we trespassing?” he asked.
“You own the place,” Joker lied. “It’s in ruins so they sold it off for cheap. The land’s built on marsh, unstable ground. No one can build on it. It’s worthless, really. A good place for our vigilante operation. At least, you thought so when you bought it. Very inconspicuous.”
“Feels like a place where a lot of teenagers might try to break in and sneak around.”
Joker laughed. “They know not to come here. Trust me.”
Batman seemed to ruminate on his words, and Joker almost wondered if he’d said something wrong. But after a few moments, he just nodded. Joker breathed out a sigh of relief. Every sentence he spoke felt like walking on eggshells. He knew Batman wasn’t an idiot. One wrong word and he could put the pieces together in an instant.
“How long have we been doing this together?” Batman asked suddenly.
“A while. Batman and Joker have been around for years and years. Everyone’s heard of us. Still not ringing any bells?”
“Sorry, no.” Batman sighed. “I know this is probably hard for you to deal with. I appreciate your patience, Joker.”
Joker rested a hand on Batman’s back. “No worries, friend. I’m sure you’d do the same for me.” He forced a kind smile as he spoke.
Suddenly, Joker was curious. What would Batman do if he lost his memories? If he had no idea who he was, or worse: if he had no idea who the Bat was?
He couldn’t begin to imagine what life would be like on the other side of this scenario.
Joker remembered being pulled out from the vat of chemicals by Batman. Dripping with carcinogenic toxins. His skin had burned, biting and hot against the nighttime air. It was like he had been reborn. It was the moment he’d seen Batman for the first time. His eyes had settled on the vigilante and he knew instantly that his life had changed forever. Despite the pain he’d been in, it had been the best day of his life.
To lose all of those memories… It was hard to fathom.
Without that memory, who would he be? And that wasn’t even counting all of the memories that followed after it.
Would Batman do the same thing to him? Lie? Try to mold him into the person that he thought he should be? Would he be honest? Joker didn’t think so. He knew the Bat too well. He was an honorable guy, but he could play dirty if he had to. If he thought there was a chance that Joker would be ‘fixed’ by lying, he’d probably do it in a heartbeat. He had to hold back a smile imagining Batman doing the same thing to him.
Joker lifted the tent flap and held it up for Batman. “After you.”
“Thanks,” he replied, stepping inside.
Upon entering, Joker winced. He’d forgotten about the posters of Batman that he’d put up for target practice. Dozens of knives and arrows stuck out from the wall with the Bat’s face in the center.
“That was your idea, by the way,” Joker said before Batman could comment. “Not sure why you decided to throw knives at yourself, but who was I to argue with you?”
Batman walked over to one of the posters and felt the knife. “How… Violent.”
“I’ll take them down,” Joker replied, tearing one of the posters off the wall.
“No, don’t,” Batman said, holding his hand out. “It might help speed things along if I see something familiar.” We should probably keep things as they are until my memories come back.”
Joker forced a grin. “Of course. Should have thought of that myself.”
He’d need to go through his things while Batman slept, just to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally find something that would break the ruse. Joker wasn’t exactly sure of what he had lying around, but there was bound to be some memorabilia he’d kept over the years that would be impossible to explain using the story he was going with.
“Do you mind if I rest for a moment? Where’s my room?” Batman asked.
“You can take the bed over there.” Joker pointed to the stage, which had a double bed in the center. “I’ll sleep on the beanbag chair.”
He nodded and yawned, walking towards the bedroom in the back. Joker was glad that Batman didn’t question why there was only one bed for the two of them if they supposedly lived together. He wondered if the Bat could believe that they were dating each other. That they slept in the same bed every night.
It sounded too unbelievable. Something within Batman would probably repulse him from the idea. But Joker wasn’t sure he could come up with a reasonable answer in time. It was something he made a mental note of to figure out, though.
When it seemed like the Bat was finally out for the night, Joker wasted no time hiding some of the more dubious things in the circus tent. He hadn’t realized how much napalm he’d been hoarding until he spent the better part of an hour trying to find and safely dispose of it all.
He looked around the room. On a cursory glance, everything seemed above board, but underneath carefully placed blankets and stuffed behind furniture were hundreds of pounds worth of explosives and other weapons. It was going to be impossible to get rid of it all overnight.
Joker was exhausted. He’d never cleaned the place before. He’d never cleaned any place before, at least not to this degree. But he wasn’t going to let his lair ruin this opportunity. He just wished he had more time to prepare.
It was worth it, though. Sure, he’d accidentally revealed Batman’s identity, and yes, none of this had been a part of the plan, but it was shaping up to be one of his best gambits yet.