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He’d fallen down three flights of stairs apparently. Bruce would have thought if you were rich enough to own your own skyscraper you would have used the elevator, you’d had installed in it but maybe he had been looking to do some extra exercise? Although, one look at his body and anyone would say that that seemed a little strange.
But regardless of why he had fallen down the stairs, the consequences for doing so was undeniable. A week spent in the hospital, three weeks spent at home recovering and no memory of his life before the accident. Retrograde amnesia – or so he was told. He woke up after the accident to discover his name was Bruce, he was an orphan, a billionaire playboy and that he was cared for by a butler named Alfred. But from Alfred’s anxious eyes and caring demeanour, Bruce guessed that the connection between them might go beyond employer and employee.
It had been a tad disconcerting to walk into his manor. The sheer scope of the place made him feel even more lost and uncertain in his own skin than he already did. In fact, in the past three months since he’d been released from the hospital it had felt like he was living someone else’s life. Bruce felt like an imposter in his own skin. Running Wayne enterprises came naturally enough, and he found himself enjoying it at times, but the high society life, the parties, the schmoozing it all felt wrong. It grated on him. Left him feeling prickly and uncomfortable.
Take now for instance, Bruce was at some charity event, similar to the millions of others he seemed to have attended in these past few months. At least by now people had stopped treating him as a circus attraction. ‘The amnesiac billionaire come and gawk!’ But the fakeness of it all prevailed, the false sympathy they had once turned on him now directed at the poor orphans they were raising money for tonight. When, in reality, it was a ruse to make themselves look good while they made connections to further their own wealth and privilege.
Bruce felt so out of place. He was talking to some businessman, Mr. Michaels, but honestly, he would rather be anywhere than staring into Michaels simpering face. As if to answer Bruce’s prayers gunshots suddenly erupted in the spacious hall, replacing the inane chatter for shrieks and squeals. Into the room burst a group of men wearing clown masks, soon followed by a man with green hair curling limp around his painted face and a too-wide smile stretched across his lips. When Bruce saw him he felt a bolt of electricity shoot up his spine. He had felt fear when the men first fired shots into the room, but now it had melted into a thrilling buzz unlike anything he had ever felt before. Or at least anything he had ever remembered feeling. The man, the Joker Bruce recalled having seen his face before on the news, stopped in the middle of the room, his men surrounding him in a semi-circle their guns pointed at the guests. The Joker laughed. Hearing that maniacal laughter, caused the feelings humming inside of Bruce to intensify. He hadn’t felt this alive since he had awoken in the hospital.
‘Hello folks!’ The Joker addressed the room in a high, lilting voice that betrayed the madness within him. ‘I hear you’re looking to help some poor abandoned kiddies!’
The Joker looked slowly around the room, making eye-contact with the scared faces he saw there.
‘Well… I’ve been abandoned so you’re gonna help me too, aren’t you?’ he questioned, although his tone left no doubt that he wasn’t really asking, ‘You see my favourite playmate, my best boy, my man… has disappeared, poof, gone, and nothing I do has brought him back!’ The Joker grabbed the upper arms of a man close to him and started shaking him.
‘Can you believe it! I blow up a bank and nothing! The nerve of some people, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t even show up to date night?’ The man the Joker was holding trembled in terror.
‘Well?’ The Joker asked him.
‘Y-y-yes, v-very bad of him,’ the man managed to splutter.
‘Right!’ agreed the Joker, ‘and after I had put in so much thought and effort into making it just perfect, he doesn't show, disappears for months without so much as a note,’ the Joker whines, sticking his lip out like a petulant child. He puts an arm around the shaking man.
‘But you’re going to help me find him, aren’t you?’ The man nods vigorously.
‘Great!’ the Joker releases the man and looks around the room again, ‘For every minute it takes for Batman to arrive someone’s gonna die. Starting with you…’ He spins back to the man he was just holding, a gun seeming to materialise in his hand before shooting him in the head. It only took a second but suddenly the man was dropping to the floor, dead. Screams erupted from the partygoers but as much as Bruce willed himself to look away from the scene he was transfixed. Amidst a world where nothing felt right, here, in this scene or terror, he felt a small node of familiarity and as horrified as Bruce was, he just couldn’t let go of that.
‘Tick-tock goes the clock,’ the Joker’s voice cut out across the panicked voices, ‘You better hope Batsy crawls out of his cave soon! Who wants to go next, huh?’ He started walking around the room, faces painted in abject horror staring back at him.
‘Oh, come on, someone volunteer. Don’t you wanna play the hero?’ he turned towards Bruce, ‘How about you pretty boy?’
Bruce’s breath hitched. The Joker was walking towards him, head cocked questioningly, eyes burning with madness.
‘Me?’ Bruce breathed, not daring to look directly at the Joker for fear about what he might find in his eyes. The heady rush he had felt from just saying one word to the Joker was leaving him feeling like he was floating.
‘hmmm, maybe not. Let’s save the quality stuff for last aye?’ the Joker turned to move onto someone else and all Bruce knew was he wasn’t ready for this encounter to be over. Words seemed to tumble from his mouth without his consent.
‘How do you even know this will work? If the Batman’s been gone for months and didn’t come for you before maybe he’s not in Gotham, what if he doesn’t even know this is happening?’
Bruce suddenly felt strong hands grab him and swing him into a wall.
‘Oof,’ Bruce grunted as the air was knocked from his lungs.
‘Not around!’ the Joker snarled in his face, no trace of a smile on his lips, ‘Where could he have possible gone for three months without me!’
The Joker’s face was very close to his own, his body pressing up against Bruce’s. Despite all the danger he logically knew he was in his body didn’t seem to understand, instead relaxing into what Bruce recognised as a familiar grip, his eyes falling closed. Bruce didn’t understand how this could be familiar to him. He knew that Bruce Wayne hadn’t had any substantial interactions with the Joker before he lost his memory. But he wasn’t willing to question it now. Instead, he clung to the feeling, relished in it.
The relaxation of Bruce’s muscles and the lack of fear seemed to confuse the Joker. He stopped talking but he kept a tight hold of Bruce, drawing their faces even closer. Bruce’s breath hitched as he felt the Joker’s breath on his face. His eyes opened to meet the Joker’s own and immediately felt a fission of electricity race through his body and a strange sense or rightness settle into his core. The Joker’s confusion at Bruce’s actions was evident but after a few moments of staring at each other, a burst of something that Bruce couldn’t quite name seemed to flash across his face before it was pulled up into another manic smile.
The Joker stepped back, releasing Bruce who felt a brief sense of loss at the action.
‘Well boys,’ the Joker clapped once drawing the attention of his goons, ‘This party sucks… lets bail.’
‘What boss, but Batman’s not shown up yet,’ one brave thug queried.
‘Brucie-baby here is right, maybe Batty-boy has gotten lost. Let’s go,’ The Joker ordered as he started walking towards the doorway. ‘Bye-bye Bruce maybe we can play again sometime,’ he waved blowing Bruce a kiss. His men following him out.
As Bruce watched the Joker and his men disappear, he came to an abrupt realisation. He couldn’t go back to living the empty, uncomfortable life of a stranger. He was going to find the Joker and chase the feeling of belonging he brought, even if it killed him.