Fan Fiction ❯ Thirty Years Returning ❯ Chapter 2
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Dark Jester 
Life as an old man is tough...
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Angst / Cyberpunk / Drama / Romance / Sci-fi / Suspense | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.18.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 652 | Visits: 191 | Status: Completed
Life as an old man is tough...
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Angst / Cyberpunk / Drama / Romance / Sci-fi / Suspense | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.18.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 652 | Visits: 191 | Status: Completed
Chapter 2
"Bruce?"
A groan emerged from the retired vigilante, signaling his long-awaited return to consciousness. Blue eyes fluttered against dim lighting, confusion slowly clouding them over. "What happened?" he grumbled.
Smiling above him, Dick waved with his fingertips. "How long you been sleepin' on the ground?"
"What?"
"I found you down here in the cave about an hour ago, but couldn't lift you. What're you doing taking naps down here? Old men should be in old-man-beds." There was a playful chuckle.
"I was... Terry!" Bruce sat up as quickly as he could, his eyes wide with horror. "Where's Terry?" he demanded. A sharp wave of pain stopped him cold, alerting him to the fact that he'd received a blow to the head. Joker must've struck him... and then... taken him home? It didn't make sense. Maybe he'd dreamed...
"He's upstairs," Dick answered gently. "Sleeping on the couch. Ace isn't with him, though. I can't find him." Running his fingers through white hair, he held out a hand for Bruce. "What happened to him? He looks pretty banged up." After a pause, he added, "So do you."
"The Joker..." Bruce shook his head and took Dick's hand, allowing himself to be hoisted upward onto his feet. "The Joker beat him... and I went to save him. I can't remember what happened, though. How did we get home?
Dick shrugged and let go of Bruce's hand. "All that matters is that you're safe."
***
Inside the basement of Arkham Asylum, two figures walked quietly around the room, one busily inspecting a pile of machinary in front of him. The woman - elderly and using a cane - fastened wires to their appropriate outlets. A glass encasement stood nearby, frosted over and quite obviously meant for carrying a body. Someone was visible through the chilled window, pale-faced and ruby-lipped.
"Almost ready," the woman's voice announced. "You sure you're up for this, Mistah J? If it doesn't work..."
"It WILL work," Joker immediately hissed. "It HAS to work. My planning cannot have been in vain."
He moved to a metal table nearby and laid down on it, gesturing quickly for Harley to get on with the plans. She smiled sadly, attached her love to many strange wires and tubes, and then moved to do it to herself, as well. Laying quietly on another table, Harley reached out with shaking fingers, flipping a switch that would forever change both of them.
***
"Terry?" Bruce watched the sleeping form of his protege, mindful of his behavior in front of Dick. He lowered himself to the couch and sat gently on the cushion, glancing backward once when Dick moved across the room to claim a different seat. "Terry, please wake up."
The teen groaned and responded to his mentor's voice, a hand snaking out to latch onto Bruce's knee. "Joker," he mumbled quietly.
"No, Terry. It's me. It's Bruce." The older man rested his fingers on top of Terry's, feeling the slender form of them tenderly.
***
A rush of curling mist fell from the glass encasement, spilling out onto the floor as it opened. Ruby lips twitched and the transformed into a grin as emerald eyes flashed with renewed life.
His first step was wobbly; his legs were sore. The room was still, now, and he could almost feel the blood pounding through his veins, thick with foolish devotion and raving lunacy. The woman nearby didn't check in with her darling puddin'... and instead lay motionless on the table, pale and not breathing.
It didn't matter. She would be with him soon enough. The Joker blinked as a tumbling of green curls disrupted his sight, and decided to leave them there upon examination. They reminded him of how delicious his own, true body felt. The encasement of his own flesh was invigorating... merciless in it's endless reminders.
He was finally whole, again. It had taken forty years, but it had been worth it.
*
"Bruce?"
A groan emerged from the retired vigilante, signaling his long-awaited return to consciousness. Blue eyes fluttered against dim lighting, confusion slowly clouding them over. "What happened?" he grumbled.
Smiling above him, Dick waved with his fingertips. "How long you been sleepin' on the ground?"
"What?"
"I found you down here in the cave about an hour ago, but couldn't lift you. What're you doing taking naps down here? Old men should be in old-man-beds." There was a playful chuckle.
"I was... Terry!" Bruce sat up as quickly as he could, his eyes wide with horror. "Where's Terry?" he demanded. A sharp wave of pain stopped him cold, alerting him to the fact that he'd received a blow to the head. Joker must've struck him... and then... taken him home? It didn't make sense. Maybe he'd dreamed...
"He's upstairs," Dick answered gently. "Sleeping on the couch. Ace isn't with him, though. I can't find him." Running his fingers through white hair, he held out a hand for Bruce. "What happened to him? He looks pretty banged up." After a pause, he added, "So do you."
"The Joker..." Bruce shook his head and took Dick's hand, allowing himself to be hoisted upward onto his feet. "The Joker beat him... and I went to save him. I can't remember what happened, though. How did we get home?
Dick shrugged and let go of Bruce's hand. "All that matters is that you're safe."
***
Inside the basement of Arkham Asylum, two figures walked quietly around the room, one busily inspecting a pile of machinary in front of him. The woman - elderly and using a cane - fastened wires to their appropriate outlets. A glass encasement stood nearby, frosted over and quite obviously meant for carrying a body. Someone was visible through the chilled window, pale-faced and ruby-lipped.
"Almost ready," the woman's voice announced. "You sure you're up for this, Mistah J? If it doesn't work..."
"It WILL work," Joker immediately hissed. "It HAS to work. My planning cannot have been in vain."
He moved to a metal table nearby and laid down on it, gesturing quickly for Harley to get on with the plans. She smiled sadly, attached her love to many strange wires and tubes, and then moved to do it to herself, as well. Laying quietly on another table, Harley reached out with shaking fingers, flipping a switch that would forever change both of them.
***
"Terry?" Bruce watched the sleeping form of his protege, mindful of his behavior in front of Dick. He lowered himself to the couch and sat gently on the cushion, glancing backward once when Dick moved across the room to claim a different seat. "Terry, please wake up."
The teen groaned and responded to his mentor's voice, a hand snaking out to latch onto Bruce's knee. "Joker," he mumbled quietly.
"No, Terry. It's me. It's Bruce." The older man rested his fingers on top of Terry's, feeling the slender form of them tenderly.
***
A rush of curling mist fell from the glass encasement, spilling out onto the floor as it opened. Ruby lips twitched and the transformed into a grin as emerald eyes flashed with renewed life.
His first step was wobbly; his legs were sore. The room was still, now, and he could almost feel the blood pounding through his veins, thick with foolish devotion and raving lunacy. The woman nearby didn't check in with her darling puddin'... and instead lay motionless on the table, pale and not breathing.
It didn't matter. She would be with him soon enough. The Joker blinked as a tumbling of green curls disrupted his sight, and decided to leave them there upon examination. They reminded him of how delicious his own, true body felt. The encasement of his own flesh was invigorating... merciless in it's endless reminders.
He was finally whole, again. It had taken forty years, but it had been worth it.
*