Dance With the Devil...

A/N:First fic about Batman, I feel so acomplished! :D Im extremly new to this part of fanfiction so bare with me if its not to your liking! Let me know what you thing, enjoy!

He stumbled aimlessly through a dark alleyway, his gloved hand pressed up against his side. The pain was nothing new to him, and yet he found his vision slowly becoming cloudy, he shook his head trying to get his attention back on the task at hand. He felt a warm liquid running down the side of his face; he reached up with his free hand and lowered it once more to see the damage.

He grinned halfheartedly despite himself upon seeing his own blood mixed with white grease make up. He continued on his way, his occupied hand clutching desperately at the wound that oozed blood.

The Bat had been too rough, a bad day perhaps? He could still feel the brutal beating that Gotham's vigilante had given him minutes ago, he was sure he had several bruises already. The scars on the inside of his mouth were no doubt reopened after receiving several blows to the side of the face. He spat out blood and groaned. The meager noise turning into a chuckle as he ran his tongue over the scars inside of his mouth, the metallic tang making him spit out the foul liquid once more.

A stray cat darted out from its hiding place running in front of him causing him to halt and let the feline continue on its way before looking around trying to recognize where he was. He leaned up against the nearest wall available to him and closed his eyes for a moment, the temptation to never open them again and just lie there grew irresistible.

His hair fell into his eyes shrouding his vision with green strands; he regained his strength and managed to push himself off of the wall, tossing his hair back with the motion of his hand. He saw a street up ahead; he had to cross it if he was to get anywhere tonight.

He shuffled over to the alley entrance and stood in the shadows for a few moments, out of all of the days the Bat could have picked to take out his anger on him it had to be today.


He loathed the holiday, the one day of the year that people thought nothing of swooping down to his level and dressing up, putting on makeup and going out. He wore makeup all of the time, and people considered him a…a… 'freak-uh,' he thought in his head, dragging out the word enjoying the way it sounded in his thoughts.

They certainly didn't find it odd when they put on their makeup or dressed up in idiotic costumes, and yet he was the freak. Idiots, all of them.

He brushed those thoughts as he stumbled onto the street; with so many people in disguises no one cast him a second glance. Had they done so they would have noticed the irritated look on his face, and the obvious crimson liquid dripping down this side, staining his clothes.

Much to his predicament someone did notice, a child of all people.

"Fraulein…what's wrong with the clown?" the little girl asked pointing to the clown in question from her seat in her car. The woman driving the car slammed down on the breaks upon seeing who her sister was pointing to.

"Oh my god," she murmured looking the man over quickly, she could tell he was bleeding too much, and by the way he leaned on the wall he was slowly losing consciousness. She noted that he was dressed as a clown, a creepy one at that as her eyes scanned the 'scars' he had probably applied on himself for effect. She wondered if he was faking the whole thing, but as soon as she saw him clutch his wound once more she knew he wasn't pretending to be hurt.

"Kiri stay in the car," she ordered the child next to her as she nodded in return.

"Of course, fraulein," Kiri answered after seeing her sister dash out of the car and head over to the funny looking man.

"Excuse me, sir? Are you alright?" she asked as she neared him cautiously. He didn't even bother in replying, clearly she hadn't seen him clearly yet. As soon as she got a good look at his face she would run away and call the cops on him, maybe the Bat would show up again and finish what he had started.

He turned towards the sound of the voice and was greeted by a woman dressed in a black and white jester suit, the makeup she wore matching the color scheme of her outfit. He would have laughed had he been able to.

"Do I look alright to you…" he laughed waiting for the inevitable reaction that was to come. For her to realize who she was talking to. He fingered the knife in his coat pocket, ready to click it open and end her life if she so much as opened her mouth to call out for help.

She merely stared back dumbfounded, the man was knocking on death's door and there he was bleeding to death while laughing. Such a strange character.

"Do you need any help, would you like me to call someone for you?" she questioned moving towards now entering the alley with him before he straightened himself up and stood full height. She halted and stared up at him, she could have sworn she knew him from somewhere.

"I don't need your help, beautiful," he snapped spitting out blood causing her to jump and stare at him in concern. She was debating whether she should leave him there or call for help. He seemed to catch on as well as he moved forward with a shocking amount of speed and seized her by her throat.

His bloodied glove applied pressure to her neck as the other took out his knife and pressed it up against her throat, her body being slammed up against the alley wall.

"Don't get any ideas, we wouldn't want anything to happen to you, now would we?" he snarled at her as she dropped the phone she had taken out seconds ago to call the police. She could have sworn she saw stars upon colliding with the harsh wall, that didn't seem to bother him however.

Her terrified eyes stared at up at his haunting chocolate orbs raging with so many emotions she couldn't even begging to read him. She opened her mouth to say something but decided to remain silent, she didn't know what he would do next and it horrified her.

"Why so serious, beautiful? Don't ya' know who I am?" he asked her tilting his head, his wounds long forgotten as blood dripped down his side and formed a puddle next to him. She kept exchanging glances at him and at the blood on the black pavement, truth be told she didn't know who he was.

She shook her head, and a flash of rage crossed his eyes, his smile dropping slightly. Not only because of her failing to recognize him, but due to his head spinning uncontrollably. His grip loosed on her, and before he knew it his forehead was resting on her exposed shoulder. His body finally reached its limit; it had lost too much blood. He fell unconscious much to her predicament as she tried to catch his body as it collapsed before her.

She struggled to drag him to her car, and threw him in the back seat. She didn't know why she was helping him; he had threatened her with a knife after all. But perhaps it was due to his condition, hell if she was in his shoes she would have killed anyone who tried to get near her, whether they wanted to offer her help or not.

She glanced at his unconscious form from her rearview mirror, and then to Kirimi.

"I'm going to drop you off with Gabriel ok? I have to take care of him," she told her sister who in turn nodded and stared back at the clown in their back seat.

She would have never picked him up and helped him had she known who he was. She drove on unaware that she currently held none other than Gotham's clown prince of crime in her car.

The Joker.

Hmm, let me know what you think! Go easy on my my dear readers! :D