Bruce had been patiently waiting for the moment when Lex's interest in business and the fate of his family's company would rear its head again. He was surprised at the timing--it was a been earlier than he had expected--but appreciated Lex's reborn excitement nonetheless. He furrowed his brow in thought as Lex rattled off his list of questions, things that he had perhaps been wanting to ask for days, maybe even weeks. It was obvious that Lex had been thinking about returning to work for a while now judging by the way that he spoke, such enthusiasm and passion. Bruce tried and failed to stifle the tiny smile that curled the edges of his mouth. Even if Bruce wanted to say no to Lex, how could he?

"Will S.T.A.R.R. labs be under my complete and utter ownership or will I simply be working under you, Bruce?"

"Well, that's really up to you." Bruce shrugged his shoulders, tired of his usual professional manner and willing to drop it for the rest of the day, and began unbuttoning his dress shirt as he spoke to Lex. "Currently Wayne Enterprises has complete control over 73% of all former LuthorCorp assets and subsidiaries. Unfortunately, what Wayne Enterprises did not manage to obtain after your father's death was left to the LuthorCorp board and taken control of by a mister Morgan Edge. Fortunately enough for you, the LuthorCorp board is a collection of slimy but relatively unintelligent men. Your father, as you are probably very familiar with, liked to have 'yes men' at his side wherever he went, and the board reflects that. Also, this Morgan Edge, power-hungry as he seems to be, does not seem to be as business savvy as your father and the company doesn't seem like it will be able to climb out of the hole that it has fallen into. On the other hand, everything owned by Wayne Enterprises, including S.T.A.R.R. labs, is doing very well despite the recent chaos.

"If you like, I can transfer all the LuthorCorp assets to your name. Unfortunately, you will not be able to call the company LuthorCorp. Might I suggest LexCorp? You've been wanting to break away from the Luthor title for awhile now and this would certainly be your chance. However, if you would not like that option then you are welcome to begin building LexCorp as a little project of Wayne Enterprises and then break away when you're ready. I'm glad to give you either option. Whichever one you choose, you will have complete control over S.T.A.R.R. labs, babe."

Any of his associates would tell Bruce that he was making a monumental mistake. Simply handing over millions and millions of dollars to Lex without the blink of an eye? Handing over a large chunk of recently acquired operations to a man that had just been released from a mental institution did not seem like the sanest of ideas, but Bruce could not quell the rising excitement inside of him that told him that perhaps returning to work would be good for Lex; it would be the one thing that would help things to return to normal.

"Is there anything that I can do to help you, Lex? Anything that I can do to ease you into the business world?" A sly smile appeared on Bruce's face, one that he had not harbored for over a year. One that he used to wear so often when they were younger it was as if it was permanently etched into Bruce's face but had faded with years of rain graffiti.

What he was expecting Lex to say, he really didn't know. A part of him was simply hoping that Lex would reassure Bruce in some way that he still loved Gotham's favorite businessman.

Bruce was giving him unlimited freedom in every sense of the word. It was not a business contract that Lex could recall being apart of before. If anything at all, the circumstances of the contract would be rather suspicious considering the ordeal. That was to say if the deal struck between these two men happen to be anyone other than Bruce and Lex it would appear as such. Then again, their business dealings had never really had been anything considerably normal. They had the tendency to seal the deal with a hard fuck or suck here and there. Not to say that there was anything wrong with that.. not in Lex's opinion anyway. It was completely unlike working with Lionel. The elder Luthor had the tendency to place clauses at points in a contract that the reader would surely miss or sometimes, just to spite his opponent he'd place it in plain sight for all to bare witness to. Simple little games that was all he knew. They knew. Only "they" really consisted of Lex now. What would Lionel think of this business deal?

How would dear old Daddy Luthor feel about this? Deep inside that enclosed tomb, his body rotting, decomposing as maggots infested his disfigured form, oh Daddy dear, why did you ever leave? If Lex knew his father at all even within that expensively built casket, Lionel could still be heard swearing that Lex would fall just like LuthorCorp. Just like Alexander the Great. A small smile picked at the corner of Lex's lips and at this point, he wasn't paying much attention to the words coming from Bruce's gorgeous full rosy lips. All he could really imagine is the great Lionel Luthor lying in an open casket, his arms draped over his chest and dressed magnificently in his favorite elaborate suit.

At least now Lex wouldn't have to worry about reading in between the lines. Bruce wouldn't fail him nor trick him in any way that Lionel would. Or would he? Lex leaned into Bruce's shoulder and brushed his nose against the man's neck, savoring the musky scent of his cologne and body wash. It was far more affectionate than Lex was accustom to being lately but he could sense Bruce's need. Even after weeks inhabiting Bruce's home, Lex could still sense the loneliness hanging from Bruce's shoulders. The least Lex could do was give the man the attention he so well deserved. After all, Bruce had preserved a vast amount of old LuthorCorp subsidiaries just for him.

Lex said nothing more as he slid to his knees and settled between Bruce's stretched legs. He caught the man's surprised hues his hands ran up Bruce's slacks. Lex took a moment to press a finger to his lips, silencing any righteous claims from his.. friend and quickly unbuckled, unzipped and released Bruce from his pants all the while that very same smile that was produced by the thought of Lionel's decomposing body continued to linger on his opaque face.
_____________________________________________________________________________

There were some things in his life that he quickly realized he simply could not do without. For instance croissants and coffee. After that it would mostly certainly would have to be work. Working allowed him an escape from his home life or there lack of really. With the pills sitting heavily in his system, Lex felt like things were seemingly normal or at least he tried to present it that way. In reality, the pills despite taking them for a month now did nothing for him. He could not sleep or at least, it rarely came to him nor did he feel the tension ease from his body during daily activities. If anything at all, Lex suddenly felt more aware of his surrounds and the anxiety that enjoyed dwelling in his chest throughout most the day.

It was due to this circumstance that he felt relatively grateful. The lack of need for slumber gave him a nearly infinite amount of time to focus and work on business relations for S.T.A.R.R labs and other small subsidiaries. Speaking of which, he sat neatly in Bruce's study (in all honestly it was becoming more like his work office than anything else) going over details and schematics when he noticed an error in the numbers according to the spreadsheets that laid across the handsome redwood desk. Why didn't anyone catch this? There seemed to be millions missing from a combination of departments in several areas of old LuthorCorp assets. It didn't make any sense.

Lex reached for a large drawer to pull out a few files containing more financial spreadsheets. Several them were dated just prior to Lionel's death and others a few days after. Strange. Bruce had suddenly sold off newly acquired LuthorCorp stocks to... His slender fingers eagerly shuffled through the papers to find Morgan Edge's name printed finely and quite boldly across the page. What? This didn't make any sense. Morgan Edge was a crook. His father's oldest henchman who did not contain an ounce of business sense in his disgustingly rotund body. A body that Lex was far too acquainted with to dwell any further on.

It didn't make any fucking sense. For all the years that Lex had been sharing the dirty little details of Morgan Edge's fancies, how could Bruce turn around and sell LuthorCorp stock and assets to this absolute idiot? How? WHY? For the life of him, Lex could not connect the dots. Or perhaps this was some elaborate scheme to.. what? He had nothing to go off of. Not a hint nor clue and he sincerely doubted that if he questioned Bruce, he'd get a straight answer.

No, some problems needed to be dealt directly with the root of the problem. Lex placed his laptop on standby as he stood from his desk. He wasn't sure where Bruce had gone off to but he left a simple sticky note for the man on the cover of his laptop.

Bruce-

Went out for a breather.

Lex.
PS. Took your Lambo.
_____________________________________________________________________________

The entire ride to the newly possessed LuthorCorp-- no, Edge Towers now had been silent. Lex was deaf to all sounds save the quiet whimper of the vehicle's engine and even then, it was hard to catch unless he revved the engine. City lights blurred past his window and while he knew he was traveling faster than the speed limit permitted he felt trapped within time. His movements and thoughts streamed so slowly.

Bruce was full of shit. What the hell was thinking? It was obvious that despite selling these stakes to Morgan Edge, the man was siphoning money from assets Bruce had acquired and kept. Didn't he see this? No, the older man contained enough intelligence to identify the errors and signs. Yet he allowed it anyway and for what purpose? Lex needed to know. He needed to know why Bruce was keeping secrets from him.

Again.

Lex pulled Bruce's black Lamborghini into the Edge Tower's visitor parking lot off the main entrance. It took only a few minutes to get past Edge's security until he was standing impatiently in the elevator. Of course Edge took the executive penthouse at the very top of Lionel's hand designed seven story tower. The ostentatious idiot. Everything his father worked for laid in this man's disgusting greasy hands now. Guilt resided in his stomach, echoing with every step he took as he exited the elevator and down the familiar hallway of a place he once called home.

That was a lie. He had never once called this tower home. It had always been Lionel's dwelling. His cave, castle or whatever clever fucking title he had for it. The elaborate penthouse had been decorated by Lionel's help and he wasn't surprised to see the decor change from the Victoria couture that Lionel so heavily adored to a more modern era. Sleek geometrical lines filled the living room.

"Well look who we have here." The sound of Edge's clapping hands filled the silence and brought Lex to a moment far too familiar once again. Lionel's face flitted across his mind. "Lex fucking Luthor. I thought they had locked you up and thrown away the key."

"You sound surprised, Morgan. Didn't expect to see me so soon?" He replied coolly. Edge lingered around his father's small bar in the corner of the living room. The rotund man held a glass filled with a beautiful amber to him. It was probably filled with some sort of poison. Regardless he took from Morgan's hand.

"What can I do for you, Lex?" He watched Morgan walk around the bar to plop himself on the sleek leather couches. "Oh, I know. You must miss Daddy Dearest, Lex. I'm sure Arkham didn't grant you closure. After all you weren't there for beloved Lionel's funeral." A fat smirk crossed the man's greasy face and he patted the empty space next to him. "I can give you what you need, Lex."

His jaw clenched. Say no. Say no, Lex. The young Luthor tilted his head gazing at a spot on the marble floor. He knew Edge's game all too well and if that's the only way he could get information from the man, he'd have to play the game. Taking a deep breath, Lex reluctantly sat himself next to the man. The scent of Scotch and a horrible earthy musk filled the young man's nostrils making the corners of his mouth twitch. Morgan turned his head toward him brushing the very tip against Lex's cheek as he leaned into his slender body.

"Lex," the man purred into his ear. "Oh, I've missed you. Missed having my dick inside you. It's been too long. I guess Bruce hasn't been providing for you."

Lex bit down on his tongue.

"Tell me, he doesn't fuck you like I do or better yet, like Lionel did. Tell me how much you missed dear old Dad--"

"If we're going to do this, please don't talk about my father, Edge."

"Oh, sprouting off requests. I have to be honest with you, you're not nearly as fun as your better half." Chills erupted along Lex's back. Morgan's hand traced a rough path up his thigh and was awkwardly massaging his crotch.

"What?"

"He didn't tell you." Fake gasp. "Oh my. I believe I've said too much or perhaps not enough." The faint whiskers on Edge's face uncomfortably rubbed across Lex's smooth skin. "Tsk, tsk."

"Bruce didn't tell me what, Edge?"

"What a good fuck he is."

He wasn't aware of anything else. Lex did not realize nor did he know when exactly he stood from the leather couch and walked over to the small bar in the corner to retrieve the decanter to smash the thick heavy glass into Morgan Edge's skull. The look of shock so evident on his face.

It was too easy. So easy. The decanter nearly slipped from his hands as it dripped with the blood of a man so fucking sick and twisted. No longer would this disgusting pathetic excuse of a man tarnish the world with his filth. Morgan's skin tore like paper, bleeding from every orifice of his face. Pieces of it clung onto the expensive glass held in his hands as the rest liquid ran down his fingers, tainting his digits.

Death shouldn't be this liberating, but he certainly enjoyed the feeling that spread across his chest. No one would cry for over this man's body. He sincerely doubted anyone would bother to throw him in a casket. In the After Death Morgan will realize that he is disposable. Just like Lionel and anyone else who dare to fuck with him ever again. Bruce.. even if he had felt distant with the man was still and forever be his lover. Bruce was HIS and solely HIS. No one would fuck with his possessions ever again. The world thought Lex Luthor had vanished with his father's body but they only just struck a match to light the Luthor fire. He'd reclaim all that the Judge, juries, Lionel and Morgan Edge had taken from him.

Lex washed the decanter clean and struggled to drag Edge's dead body across the room to the balcony outside. Breathing hard he draped the fat man's body across the rail then bent down to take his ankles, flipping him over the rail allowing him to fall the seven stories onto the concrete. He should have fucked him first.

Fucked him like he had fucked Bruce. No one touched Bruce. At least never again. He'd make sure of that much. Although he sincerely doubted he had anything to worry about anymore. Morgan Edge was gone and surely the void he had been feeling since he left Arkham would quickly fill and Lex would be happy to be in Bruce's presence once more.

He did not watch the body fall from the balcony. Instead he simply brushed the nonexistent dirt from his jacket and as if nothing had happened at all, left Edge Towers before the body turned cold against the concrete. He wondered vaguely as he drove home if Bruce was cooking dinner.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Lex pushed through the main entrance into Bruce's estate feeling rather at peace for the world. The bad guy was dead. Justice was served and all that ridiculous platitudes that Bruce indulged in. He threw the keys to Bruce's vehicle onto a handcrafted end table placed near the doorway. Removing his jacket next, he proceeded towards the library, Bruce's usual haunts.

"Bruce?" His voice echoed. "Bruce!"

Tonight, he decided, he'd make love with Bruce. Yes, that sounded brilliant. Perfect. Fucking fantastic. A smile fell over his face and he sauntered through the doorway into the library with the weight of the world far from his shoulders.

The moment that Lex brushed his pointed nose against the side of Bruce's neck shivers erupted up and down the older man's body. Blood rushed from his head down to a more useful part of his body and left him feeling lightheaded. It was the sweetest, purest display of affection that Lex had given to him since his return from Arkham and Bruce reveled in every last millisecond. He held his breath has Lex inhaled his earthy scent, silently hoping that his feeble efforts would make the world stand still, unmoving just for him and his lost lover.

A sharp gasp left Bruce's lungs as Lex pulled away from him; but the look of offensive was immediately replaced by a facade of shock as the skinny man settled himself in between Bruce's legs. More blood seemed to fall victim to gravity and left his head, traveling down to the eager member that was practically begging for attention from its favorite (albeit neglectful) provider. Lex placed his finger to his lips and Bruce took this as his cue to be silent and not argue with Lex's seemingly hasty decision. Deft fingers undid Bruce's pants and Bruce could do nothing more than let his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"Oh, fuck..."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bruce-

Went out for a breather.

Lex.
PS. Took your Lambo.

" ...Oh, what a fucking bitch."

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Bruce let his book drop into his lap as Lex called out his name. It was the first time in a very long while that Bruce had heard Lex call his name with such enthusiasm. A smile lingered on his lips as he stood up and placed Crime and Punishment on his desk, letting his fingers drag against the leather cover of the novel before responding to Lex's calls. "Library, Lex!"

As if the man would ever be anywhere else.

Just a second later Lex turned the corner, walking through the doorway with his face glowing. Bruce's lips parted but no words left him; he could not think of anything intelligent to say. There was something different about Lex, something that Bruce could not put his finger on. He was glowing, shimmering, sparkling with some kind of je ne sais quoi that none of Bruce's deductive reasoning could follow. It didn't matter. Why Lex was smiling (perhaps it was the fact that he stole Bruce's Lamborghini, the fucking whore) Bruce did not know and (partially) he didn't care. Seeing Lex smile was the most beautiful event he had been allowed to witness in a long time.

The room seemed so much shorter than usual as Bruce made his way across the floor. His steps were twice their normal length and his arms seemed to stretch out with a purpose as Bruce reached for Lex, pulling him so close to his body that it almost hurt to breathe. "I missed you," Bruce purred, letting his tongue trace a line across Lex's upper lip. How could he resist? There was something different about Lex, Bruce could sense it, and fuck it got him hard.

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"Oh, Mr J, I missed you so much! I just get all frazzled when you're gone, ya know."

Harley rubbed her make-up caked face against Joker's chest, leaving streaks of white and red across his skin. Joker frowned and violently pushed her away, cackling as she cried out in pain from her ass's impact with the floor. "You really need to learn how to take a hit, doll," Joker teased, turning back toward the broken table and grabbing a dime bag of white powder. "Stop crying and get the rest of these. It's time to celebrate my homecoming."

Harley nodded quickly and collected the bags of cocaine into her hands, following her master quietly down the rusty spiral staircase that lead to the bottom floor of one of Gotham's oldest and most decrepit warehouses. A remnant of the bustling warehouse district that existed in downtown Gotham in the early 1900's. Now, all of the operations were moved to an area closer to the pier and the once productive district was nothing more than a collection of dying memories. Joker spent much of his time in the abandoned district and had made this building in particular--a very, very old building that used to be owned by the Wayne family decades ago--his base of operations. Every dastardly plot, every evil scheme, everything was planned inside of this warehouse.

As Joker appeared to the crowd of miscreants collected on the bottom floor a cheer erupted. Felons, murderers, rapists and every worm scraped from the bottom of the barrel congregated here just for the Joker (although some, admittedly, came to also get an occasional glance at his queen, Harley Quinn. She just wore those tiny skirts so well).

"Oh, boys, you give me way too much credit," Joker drawled, throwing the bag of cocaine to the first goon that came into view. "Now I know it's been a while since you've all had the pleasure of looking at my fantastic facade, and for that I sincerely apologize. You idiots deserve a little more than that." Joker snickered and grabbed another bag from Harley. "I think it's time for a little fucking party, don't you boys?!"

The crowd of men cheered again and Joker felt himself becoming high before even taking one hit. He loved the attention. "I have a few lady friends of mine coming soon... I know boys, I'm sorry, but it's Saturday! The grade school is closed! I couldn't get my usual gaggle of boys to join us. Maybe next time, hmmm?" Joker and Harley finished descending the stairs and penetrated the crowd, making their way to center of the room.

Joker pointed to a table and licked his lips at Harley. "Take off your clothes and lay down." The Clown Princess did as she was told with a smile on her face. "Oh, Mr J! Are we going to do it again?"

"I told you, darling, it's a fucking party!"

Harley squealed and hopped naked onto the table, laying on her back as all of Joker's men watched. Joker stood beside her and opened the bag of coke. He liked his fingers and stuck them into the bag, resisting the urge to lick them again once they were covered in fine white powder. He looked down at his dedicated first mate and grinned as she spread her legs, waiting for him. Without warning Joker shoved his fingers into her, rubbing his fingers against the wet walls of her vagina. Harley moaned with pleasure, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as Joker forced the cocaine into her body.

"I am expecting a call from Mr Lex Luthor soon," Joker said as he continued to move his fingers in and out of Harley. He tossed a cell phone to one of the men watching the display. "Make sure that I don't miss it, okay, precious?"

He couldn't keep the smile from his face. It stretched and pulled the small muscles taunt across face making the ends of his eyes crease a little. His eyes glittered beneath the library's soft florescent lighting. The lights were unusually dim in the room but between the crackling fire and the small desk lamp that twinkled upon Bruce's redwood desk, he figured it was sufficient enough. Besides the flickering embers cast a gentle orange glow over Bruce's skin, defining the edges of his smooth smile and twinkling hues.

Lex wasn't half way across the room when Bruce rose from his desk chair and met him with welcoming arms. Arms that easily reached across his body, pulling him tightly against the older man's chest nearly squeezing the air from his lungs.

"I missed you."

Every essence of the man was locked in his voice as it coiled around his body. The devil and all his temptations grasped tightly in his fingers. In his voice and his touch. Bruce's tongue left a cold wet trail across his upper-lip almost lingering on the small scar that marred his lips. A bitter tasting coldness that Lex accepted as he parted his lips while his hands wrapped around Bruce's waist slowly (albeit awkwardly) shuffling their bodies towards the couches in front of the massive stone fire place.

"I can feel how fucking hard you are for me, Bruce." Lex smirked pushing the older man down onto the couch. He easily slipped his collared shirt off ignoring the very faint traces of Morgan's scent embedded in the fine fabric as it fell to the floor. "You don't know how much I've missed it. Missed you."

His hand fell between Bruce's legs and he let it trail lazily up the man's thigh to cup his scrotum as he leaned in to steal a kiss. Morality was such a tricky almost pestering little equation of humanity. Should he feel so relieved knowing death now clung to his shoulders? The death of his father and now Morgan. A short little list written by his own hand in their very own blood. He grinned tracing a small line down Bruce's neck with his tongue.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Bruce's muffled snore was winning the battle against the crackling fire. It filled the room echoing in Lex's ears as he laid across the man's hard body on the slender couch. Not a particularly comfortable position even as he shifted a little to avoid digging his hip into Bruce's side. He laid his head across Bruce's shoulder letting his body slide between the man's broad form and the couch cushion. It took a moment to find just the right spot for his body before he adjusted his head on the man, letting his fingers play across Bruce's shoulders. They looked like little legs walking across the man's back casting long shadows on his bare skin.

He listened to the subtle sounds of the handcrafted clock on the mantelpiece as the minutes past him. Lex tightly shut his eyes against the fire's dying light trying to take a moment to recollect his thoughts. Sex with Bruce had momentarily distracted him from reality. Morgan Edge was dead. If Lionel was still alive Morgan's death would hardly be worth mentioning but the fact that the man had taken over the once prestigious company, it would certainly make headlines within the hour (if not all ready.) Oddly enough Lex did not feel afraid nor concerned that the authorities would promptly arrest him. The fuck with Morgan Edge. He was sure he did the world a favor by killing him. In fact he did Bruce a favor by avenging him.

Lex silently squirmed and crawled his way from Bruce's body to stand on his feet. He collected his clothes from the hardwood floors to bring the articles along with to the bathroom adjacent to their bedroom upstairs. Throwing them onto the toilet lid, he roughly seized open the medicine cabinet to obtain his cocktail of pills. They were neatly organized according to the weekdays. Perfectly set in their own individual trays ready to be consumed. Lex popped open the current day's prescription letting it fall into the palm of his hand. He shuffled the pills in his hand considering the very small weight of them. One of the smaller pills slipped between his fingers into the sink, spiraling down the drain before he could retrieve it. He clutched the rest of his pills in his hand mumbling obscenities under his breath as he glared into his reflection.

Haunting steel hues glared back at him. What do you want? He demanded leaning into the mirror until his nose pressed against the cool surface. What do you want?! What was this feeling that made his chest constrict? Not but a moment ago did the thrill of victory swam in his chest and now.. now, he felt lost. Uncertain of what exactly he had accomplished. Gazing back to those crucial hours with Morgan Lex realized that he had never before felt so alive. So real. It felt good but.. but a man was dead. Killed by his very own hands which shook now as the skin clutching his precious pills turned deathly pale.

FUCK! He released his grasp letting the pills spiral down the drain. With the utmost haste he put away the rest of his pills and slammed the cabinet door shut. Turning the facet on, he cupped his hands under the flow of water and let his face fall into the small pool gathering within his hands. What was this feeling? He could not comprehend.

Agent of chaos...

An unfamiliar voice rang in his head. Agent of chaos. Lex was an agent of chaos. He slowly raised his head from his cupped hands to stare at his reflection once more. It was not desperation nor anger that led him to kill Lionel nor Morgan Edge. Chaos drove him to it. Like a heavy rain drop from the sky above an epiphany fell over him. Lex understood what the Joker had meant now. It.. it made sense.

This feeling.. this awakening of sorts.. felt so good. Why should he deny himself what so many others had tried to take from him?

No more. No longer. He wouldn't resist it. He couldn't resist it.

Was it his laughter suddenly bouncing off the bathroom walls? Yes.. yes it was. He could see the smile consume his face. A sheer utter bliss that he could not stand to see though he continued to laugh as he smashed his fist into the mirror shattering the blissful image.

Fuck you.
_____________________________________________________________________________

"Tell me where to find the Joker." He growled into the man's face as he pushed him against the solid brick wall. "Tell me now and I won't put a fucking bullet it into your head."

"I--I--I d-d-don't know." The man stuttered trying to wiggle his way from Lex's clutches. "I ain't his crony, I swears!"

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" Lex shouted shoving the man's body against the wall once more. He was desperate for information and given the fact that Lex very well knew that this pathetic pusher had information to give, he wasn't going to let him walk away. "I swear to God I will destroy."

Perhaps he saw a faint glimmer of insanity in Lex's eyes beneath the moonlight. Whatever the case the petty drug dealer nodded his greasy head suddenly. "Okay, okay. He and that precious slut of his are in the warehouse district, okay? That's all I know. I swears it!"

"Yeah, do you swear your fucking life by it?" His finger switched the safety off as he pressed the barrel against the man's forehead. The man promptly nodded. "A little late for that, fucker."

He slammed the butt of his glock against the dealer's head. Releasing his hold on the petty criminal's jacket, the man slumped against the wall before abruptly falling onto the ground. He replaced the gun in a small pocket within the interior of his jacket before proceeding into Bruce's black Lamborghini.

The warehouse district, of course. Why didn't it occur to him before? It didn't take a fool to realize all the black market deals that occurred in the decrepit district. He knew for a fact that Lionel had made more than one business trip to the warehouses. For what exactly Lex had never discovered but perhaps now was more than opportune time to reveal the truth. He made a tight turn into the warehouse lot parking the sleek car behind a couple of dumpsters before killing the engine completely. Pocketing the keys, he anxiously made his way into one of the more maintained (and he used the word loosely) warehouses.

It wasn't hard to follow the Joker's trail but he was certain that had more to do with the crazed man's desire to be discovered than his own intuition. The building stunk horribly but it was hard to detect what exactly was causing the odor. Men of all sizes congregated the building floor dressed in elaborate get up and their faces painted in the Joker's trademark image.

"Whatta doin' here?" A large muscled man twice his height blocked his path towards a spiral staircase. The man eyed him suspiciously, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest.

"I'm here to see the Joker."

"No one comes in here without an invitation." The man grunted. "You got one?"

"No. Now tell me where the Joker is, you idiot."

"Oh you gonna regret that baldie..."

"Whoa, fellows, let us take a second to mellow out and find our manners, shall we?" Joker's smooth voice seemed to filter through the crowd of followers gathered at the only open entrance to the warehouse. It never ceased to amaze many of Joker's faceless men how such a small man's voice could slice through every other sound in the vicinity. Joker was wearing his usual: a garish purple suit with a bright green vest over a lavender dress shirt. A yellow tie completed the ensemble, making the Joker look like a kaleidoscope of offensively loud colors. They respected him though, despite his unusual sense of style. There was a kind of manic professionalism associated with Joker's choice of clothing, and if the suit did not suggest it than the Joker's demeanor certainly did. The man knew how to talk to people.

Joker's smile split his face apart the moment he laid his eyes upon Lex. He looked inquiringly at the neanderthal that had denied Lex entrance and narrowed his eyebrows as he continued to grin. "Why, Rudy, baby, darling, could you be so much of a fucking moron that you did not know who this esteemed gentleman is?" A blank look passed over Rudy's face and Joker did not bother to wait for the man to come up with some kind of stupid excuse.

"Why, of course you are, I must forgive myself for asking such an asinine question! How could I possibly forget that you have the intellectual capacity of a horse's anus. My sincerest apologies, darling, I really do not know where my mind wanders off to... " As Rudy continued to stare, probably still trying to process exactly how the Joker had insulted him, Joker pulled a policeman's pistol from a shoulder holster hidden underneath his jacket. Without any sign that he was disturbed by his actions, Joker pulled the trigger with the barrel of the gun only inches away from Rudy's forehead. The huge cretin fell to the floor with a thud and began to stain the floor with his blood.

"Anyone else feel like angering me today?" Joker asked sweetly, tucking the gun back into its holster as he looked around the crowd. The group of men were like statues beneath his gaze, or perhaps terrified children. Either way, Joker could see that intertwined with the fear was a sense of admiration in each man's eyes. He had them exactly where he wanted them. It had not taken Joker long to realize that you had to kill someone every once in a while to keep people on their toes.

"Fabulous! Clean this mess up, boys," he said, waving apathetically toward the dead weight on the floor. "We don't need this place to smell any more putrid than it already does." The Joker cackled and turned toward Lex, reaching over and wrapping his arms around the taller man's shoulders. "I've been wondering when you would come back to visit me, Lexie. It's been so lonely without my favorite Arkham inmate. How's life outside the cell working out for you, hm? Well, it certainly cannot be too fantastic seeing as you're here, eh? Still spending time with that atrociously gorgeous Bruce Wayne?" Joker shrugged and pulled away, taking Lex's hand into his own and pulling him along toward the spiral staircase that led to Joker's "office" upstairs.

"You have been thinking about what I said, haven't you, Lexie? Pondering about the philosophy of chaos and realizing just how necessary it is to show Gotham and the world that rules and structures are not supposed to exist. You and I, we are men that understand this concept, understand that in order to live you have to not restrict yourself. People like Batman do not understand that. Which is really just quite a shame, considering that he is just as if not more insane than I am! An insane man is running the asylum, how ironic!"

Joker pulled Lex into the room at the top of the stairs and shut the door. Harley Quinn was snorting a line of cocaine off of a small table in the corner of the room and lifted her powdery head when the two men walked in.

"Get out of here," Joker commanded, pushing Lex forward and opening the door so that Harley could leave. "Mr Luthor and I need to have a private conversation."

Harley pouted and stood up, her heavy leather boots making distracting thumps on the floor. "Aw, but Mr J, I'm your right hand gal! Ya can't just get rid of me 'cause of Mr Bald Man over there... "

"OUT!" Joker flew to the side of the small room and grabbed Harley by her arm. She shrieked in pain as he held onto her and dragged her out the door. "Go be a good girl and get Daddy some smack, would you? I'm feeling a little pained." The angry mask had disappeared and now Joker held the sweetest look his pale visage could muster.

"Oooh, all right, Mr J. I can't resist doing anything for you." Harley giggled and skipped along the metal platform to the stairs, practically sliding all the way down the steps. The men downstairs seemed to be quite happy to get to see their Clown Queen and Joker was confident that she would be kept busy for quite a while.

"Now, Lexie, darling, why don't you tell me what I can do for you. Slice a few throats? Poison a few bodies? Did you finally realize that two plus two actually equals five, not four, and now you're utterly dumbfounded?! Don't worry, the shock will wear off soon, you just need some time. But rest assured that I will do everything in my power to help you along the way. I'm just that kind of guy."

Joker licked his ruby red lips and waited eagerly for Lex's reply. He was ecstatic, ECSTATIC to know that Lex had given into his desires, let himself be influenced by Joker's carefully chosen words. Joker had won and now, with the precious and fragile Lex Luthor at his side, it was time for him to show Gotham that order was nothing.

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"When was he killed?"

"Last night, around eight." Police commissioner James Gordon sighed and waved his hand, instruction for the man on the ground to cover Morgan Edge's face with the cloth and commence loading the rotund body into the black body bag that had his name on it. "Nobody saw what happened and nobody knows who was up in the room with him when he died. By the time that Edge was killed most of the office workers had already gone home. How the person got in is even a mystery in itself."

Batman held onto his perpetual frown and closed his eyes behind his cowl. It wasn't that he was mourning the loss of Morgan Edge, the man that had raped him and used him to feel powerful, or that he was even remotely disappointed that Edge's end. The man deserved a painful death, Batman was sure, but whomever killed him would still have to pay. There were ways to destroy a man other than death.

"It's a little strange, isn't it?" Gordon mumbled, shaking his head as the body slumped into the bag.

"Strange that the two men running LuthorCorp were both murdered?" Batman suggested stonily, his eyes still closed.

"Yes, I suppose. Of course, the Luthor case was something very different from this, but nevertheless it's still a little weird, I think. Obviously there is someone else out there who has it out for the CEO's of LuthorCorp. Perhaps it is best that Lex Luthor did not regain control of the company or it would be his body here on the sidewalk.

Batman opened his eyes and watched as Morgan's body was lifted into a car. He had a thought but did not want to voice it to Commissioner Gordon, did not want to give him any ideas that were already coursing through Batman's mind. Somehow, even if Lex had gained control of LuthorCorp, Batman did not think that Lex would be anywhere near this sidewalk.

"Whoa, fellows, let us take a second to mellow out and find our manners, shall we?"

So appeared the man of the hour. The self proclaimed ruler of Gotham's underground criminal confections. He easily moved his slender body through the congregation appearing before Lex in a flamboyant mess of green and purple that somehow appeared extraordinarily elegant despite the odd combination. Perhaps it was just the Joker's facade that made it seem as much. The man's hues twinkled beneath the flickering warehouse lights with an idle curiosity that seemed slightly off putting as he tilted his head inquisitively at the large man who had denied Lex entry. Lex held his breath watching the man's joyous face stretch not through fear but a morbid fascination that made his eyes trace the deep scars running along the side of the man's face.

He spoke to the man-- Rudy evidently-- with a sweet poison dancing at the tip of his tongue. The Joker's words seemed lost to his crony making Lex wonder why a man of such intelligence would bother acquiring men who could not count to five for the life of them to do his bidding. It seemed like a mistake or perhaps the man enjoyed the small power that came to ordering around idiotic yes-men. The practice wasn't entirely shocking. Lionel indulged in the very same pleasure and recollecting the notion brought a pang of annoyance. Lex went rigid standing before the two men interacting, and he saw the faint glint of metal before the Joker had actually retrieved the gun from his pocket.

An odd sensation-- a mixture of both loathing and pity-- grew in his chest and watching helplessly as the Joker pressed the cold barrel against Rudy's face Lex felt almost sympathetic. Almost. Not quite. On one hand part of him agreed with the Joker's half assed decision and desire to express his authority amongst the crowd. The other was a little more sympathetic and decided that he needed to be wary of the Joker's temperament.

Droplets of blood fell over the collar of Lex's shirt and he glared as he watched the large muscular man fall beside him missing his shoe by mere fractions of an inch. No matter how many times he had seen a man's head blow apart in a movie, it would never compare to seeing the true tangible sight. It looked nearly unreal even. His skull shattered with pieces of his brain absent and the skin that once covered his cranium was pulled apart from impact making the whole image appear truly unreal. The young bald man felt his jaw clench listening to the Joker's cackle as it filled the silent warehouse.

Life was so disposable. Like Morgan Edge, Lex reminded himself, no one would miss this man. He is simply filth. No more than the dirt that covered the soles of his shoes. The Joker's arms seized his shoulders tearing him away from the ghastly body sprawled on the floor. He let his steely eyes fall over the Joker noticing his own reflection in the man's bright green eyes. Did he wear contacts? He could almost see a distinct film or perhaps gloss over them.

"I've been wondering when you would come back to visit me, Lexie. It's been so lonely without my favorite Arkham inmate. How's life outside the cell working out for you, hm? Well, it certainly cannot be too fantastic seeing as you're here, eh? Still spending time with that atrociously gorgeous Bruce Wayne?"

"Of course." He really didn't want to dwell on the topic of Bruce. "But that's irrelevant."

The Joker offered him a shrug in response and grasped Lex's slender hand into his purple clad one, dragging up a spiral stare case leading them far above the congregation. Lex obliged silently abandoning any further discourse until they were.. in whatever room this lanky man was leading him to.

"You have been thinking about what I said, haven't you, Lexie? Pondering about the philosophy of chaos and realizing just how necessary it is to show Gotham and the world that rules and structures are not supposed to exist."

"Something like that..."

"You and I, we are men that understand this concept, understand that in order to live you have to not restrict yourself. People like Batman do not understand that. Which is really just quite a shame, considering that he is just as if not more insane than I am! An insane man is running the asylum, how ironic!"

"To be fair, he's not the one who runs the Asylum, Joker." The man pulled him into a dimly lit room shutting the door briskly behind him. Gazing around the room, there really wasn't much to see. Old rusty filing cabinets sat against the wall with their folders popping out from every open angle in such anguish. Though as he turned to the small broken desk at the center of the room he caught the eyes of a young elaborately dressed woman lifting her head from behind a small bag that seemingly held nothing but a fine white powder. He wasn't surprised but he tilted his and arched an accusing narrow brow.

"Get out of here. Mr Luthor and I need to have a private conversation."

The Joker's had roughly pushed him aside. He whipped his head around to glare at the flamboyant man.

"Aw, but Mr J, I'm your right hand gal! Ya can't just get rid of me 'cause of Mr Bald Man over there..."

"OUT! Go be a good girl and get Daddy some smack, would you? I'm feeling a little pained."

Why didn't he just shoot the bitch? It was quite clear to Lex that the Joker didn't care about any of them. So why would he waste his time explaining anything to this coked up piece of filth? Or perhaps she really was the Joker's 'right hand gal.' He'd have to store that in his memory. It may prove useful.

"Oooh, all right, Mr J. I can't resist doing anything for you."

Just like that she was gone. So easy to forget the Joker's transgressions. Lex stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks trying to ignore the urge to wash them after being exposed to the Joker's touch. He took a couple steps towards the small desk staring at the traces of white powder the girl had left behind.

"Now, Lexie, darling, why don't you tell me what I can do for you. Slice a few throats? Poison a few bodies? Did you finally realize that two plus two actually equals five, not four, and now you're utterly dumbfounded?! Don't worry, the shock will wear off soon, you just need some time. But rest assured that I will do everything in my power to help you along the way. I'm just that kind of guy."

He did not say anything for a few minutes letting the Joker's voice echo in his head. Everything leading up to this moment-- to this confrontation-- had been on impulse. Impulse drove him to kill Morgan Edge, his father and.. here. To this dilapidated warehouse on the corner of Union and Lincoln Street. If he sought an answer from Joker he did not know nor comprehend the question. Or perhaps he was seeking an idea but even then, he couldn't imagine what. Other than the sheer brutality and cruelty the man was capable of. Even that, he was well acquainted with or at least, aware of.

"To be perfectly frank Joker, I have no idea what or why I'm here other than I feel as if I should be." Lex spoke quietly seemingly afraid of being overheard or something of that nature. He slowly looked over his shoulder at the Joker. "I wish I had the answers to your questions but I cannot even fathom what has brought me here tonight. I.. I.." He cleared his throat and tore his eyes from the Joker instead gazing out the small arched window at the back of the room. "I killed Morgan Edge last night."

Silence hung in the air for a few minutes before he turned back to the Joker letting his arms fall to his side now. "And if felt liberating. He deserved it know. Morgan Edge was never a good man. Not from the moment he left the fucking womb. He deserved what happened to him but.. but I know I shouldn't feel this way. It's wrong. I-I killed a man and I feel good."

He slammed his hands against the desk making the small bags of cocaine littering the desk jump. His bald head hung from his shoulders and he closed his eyes blocking the Joker's face from his sight. "It shouldn't feel this liberating-- this good. I know but this feeling.. it's fading. I can feel it draining from my body. Nothing has felt right until now." Slowly he raised his head to capture Joker's gaze. "I don't want to lose this feeling, Joker. You know what I'm talking about and despite your psychosis-- your utter delirium I feel as if you have the answers I.. I somehow seek."

"I need your help, Joker."

In the long run, the consequences of seeking the Joker's assistance could very well fail him but Lex was beyond the rationality. He was desperate for something-- anything to help him recover what he had lost. To fill the void where Bruce could not. The older man would never understand even if he told him the truth and if anything at all Gotham's favorite prince-- the prodigal Dark Knight would only throw him away. Back into Arkham without the hope of ever being release.

After all, humans were just so fucking disposable.

"To be perfectly frank Joker, I have no idea what or why I'm here other than I feel as if I should be."

Little Luthor's voice sounded so fragile, so beautifully delicate like crystal. All Joker wanted to do was push Luthor's voice off of the table and watch as it shattered across the floor, step on all of the little pieces and giggle with pleasure as Lex whimpered in horror. However, that of course would not be the gentlemanly thing to do. This poor creature had obviously come to him for help and it was Joker's place to listen.

"I wish I had the answers to your questions but I cannot even fathom what has brought me here tonight. I.. I.. I killed Morgan Edge last night."

Oh, what a fabulous development! Joker's smile widened as he slunk across the room toward Lex, his limbs moving in a sinuous pattern that seemed to leave imprints of themselves in the air. Joker, having scouts all over the city, had known about the murder of Morgan Edge, the idiotic businessman that had taken over LuthorCorp, but he had been ignorant of the identity of the murderer up until this point. Having a little bit of information that not even the Batman was aware of made him extremely excited. And to know that little Lex Luthor had killed AGAIN was just too much to stand!

"And if felt liberating. He deserved it know. Morgan Edge was never a good man. Not from the moment he left the fucking womb. He deserved what happened to him but.. but I know I shouldn't feel this way. It's wrong. I-I killed a man and I feel good."

"Well, Lexie, that's how it is supposed to feel!" Joker skipped up to Lex's side and wrapped his arm around the man's waist, pulling him close. "Do you not understand yet? What you did was necessary, Lexie, if only for you to see that the rules and structure that those fuckers place upon men like you and me are pointless! The only true world is the underworld and, baby, I am king." Joker guffawed and shook his head, stringy strands of dark green hair falling into his face.

"Tell me, doll face, how did it feel? Pushing that grotesque excuse of a human over the balcony? Did you get hard? Did it make the blood rush through your body? Did it make your pants wet, Lexie?" Joker winked and titled his head to the side, staring at Lex with those piercing green eyes.

Joker cringed as Lex slammed his fist on the desk, causing his precious bags of coke to jump precariously. "Hey, hey, darling, let's watch out for the goods, hm? Unless you're the Clown Prince of Crime, this shit doesn't come cheap." Joker furrowed his brow for a second and immediately began giggling at his own comment before recognizing the turmoil raging in Lex's shiny bald head.

"It shouldn't feel this liberating-- this good. I know but this feeling.. it's fading. I can feel it draining from my body. Nothing has felt right until now. I don't want to lose this feeling, Joker. You know what I'm talking about and despite your psychosis-- your utter delirium I feel as if you have the answers I.. I somehow seek.

"I need your help, Joker."

Those were the precious words that Joker had been waiting to hear. Of all the seeds that Joker could possibly plant, this was the only one that he truly wanted to bloom and now he was seeing a bud pop from the ground. Joker hopped up onto the desk and let his gloved fingers trail a line up Lex's neck. "You poor, poor man. Look at what that mean ol' judicial system has done to you! You're like a little shadow of your former faggot self! Oh, what can be done... "

He sighed melodramatically and threw his hands up into the air. "Well, if you ask me, there is really no way that you can beat the system unless you start playing by your own rules. That horrible judge and those awful, awful jurors took everything away from you. They took your company, your future, your sanity, your life. Everything that defined you as Mr Lex Luthor they stole from you." Joker licked his lips and turned his head sharply toward Lex. A cruel mask appeared upon his face as he stared at the beaten Lex. "And let's take a second to be realistic, shall we? Mr Luthor, do you honestly think that your prince, your darling Bruce Wayne, Gotham's favorite superstar really still loves you after everything that happened? Do you really think that your precious Bruce Wayne could ever love a murderer? A former Arkham inmate? Of course not. And whose fault is that?"

Joker paused. Perhaps for emphasis, perhaps because he was trying to figure out whose fault it was himself. After a few long, tantalizing seconds the red-lipped clown spoke again. "Those fucking jurors. That's whose fault it is. And whose fault is it for agreeing with those jurors and locking you away? That fucking judge."

Perhaps Lex did not realize it yet, but Joker could easily see the cogs working inside of Lex's head. It was just a matter of time before Lex began to see the truth of Joker's words. Or, at least, the truth that the Joker wanted him to see.

"And that feeling that you experienced? Why, it was satisfaction, of course! Satisfaction that you finally got to witness the deliverance of one's just reward! You say Morgan Edge was a horrible man and thus he met a horrible end. Of course, that isn't to say that all good people meet good ends as reward for being good. What is good and what is bad is all a matter of perception and let me tell you, Lex Luthor, every person on this earth is a piece of worthless scum. We're all 'bad,' and the sooner that you understand this little fact the sooner that you will be able to live a life of orgasmic chaos."

He slid off of the desk and came up behind Lex, allowing his hands to snake around Lex's body and press against his chest. "Darling, don't you think that it's time for those people to pay for what they did to you? Don't you think that they should feel the pain that you felt as those dreadful guards were fastening that straight jacket around your body?"

Joker flicked his wrist and a knife slid out from his sleeve. He held the sharpened blade up against the pale skin of Lex's throat and whispered into the man's ear. "You asked for my help and I'm offering it to you, Lexie. Whaddya say?"

Maybe if he closed his eyes and open them again, Lex would soon realize that this was all just a fantasy. He was not actually standing in some dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of the city, occupying the very same room as the Clown Prince of Gotham. He was only tricking himself. Trying to pretend that he was anything but desperate for something to free him from his prison. Even far away from the white concrete walls of Arkham he was still enslaved by Bruce's whims and the stares that linger when people find out that you've been locked in a mental asylum for killing your father. No matter how much he fucking deserved it. They all feared him. His colleagues in the lab spoke to him with such an aura of caution that was distinctly similar to Bruce's tone it made the vein along the side of Lex's head pulsate.

His chest rose and fell with shaky breaths that forced goosebumps to erupt along his forearms. It didn't help when the Joker situated his long body across the desk, trailing his gloved fingers up his neck. The sensation made him feel nearly exposed in front of the man and he wanted no more than to pull away but as he caught the Joker's surprisingly bright hues he felt obligated to stand still. His jaw clenched with the strain and he swallowed hard.

"You poor, poor man. Look at what that mean ol' judicial system has done to you! You're like a little shadow of your former faggot self! Oh, what can be done... "

Lex frowned. He was by no means an idiot. It was quite easy to pick up on the Joker's patronizing tone. What the fuck was he doing here? How could he even resort to such measures? This was all just a silly little game for the clown prince. He should have known. What a fool.

A fucking fool.

"Well, if you ask me, there is really no way that you can beat the system unless you start playing by your own rules. That horrible judge and those awful, awful jurors took everything away from you. They took your company, your future, your sanity, your life. Everything that defined you as Mr Lex Luthor they stole from you."

Just like that the annoyance that quickly prickled down his spine faded and the weight of the Joker's words fell over him silencing the conspiring thoughts swimming in his head. The man had a point. An idea that had occurred to Lex once or twice lying in the darkness of his cell. All of them The judge and jurors-- every last one of them-- had taken everything he had worked for. It had been self defense. How could they ignore that? How could they simply cast aside the years of abuse his father had put him through and throw him into Arkham?! He poured out every humiliating detail concerning the extent of Lionel's cruelty and he saw now what the truth accomplished: nothing. Fuck Bruce's platitudes of how the truth sets the soul free. Death was far more liberating.

Joker's face turned to him now, their noses only fractions apart from one another but nothing left the man's lips. A thick silence fell between the minuscule gap between them. Lex averted his gaze from him, closed his eyes and inhaled sharply picking up the faint wisps of body odor from the man in front of him.

"And let's take a second to be realistic, shall we? Mr Luthor, do you honestly think that your prince, your darling Bruce Wayne, Gotham's favorite superstar really still loves you after everything that happened? Do you really think that your precious Bruce Wayne could ever love a murderer? A former Arkham inmate?"

Could the Joker hear his heart beat against his chest? It echoed in Lex's ears nearly drowning the other man's voice. No matter what Bruce said-- whatever devotion or phrases of love he threw, it all sounded hollow to Lex. He didn't want to think about. It hadn't ever occur to him but.. but how could he have been so blind? The distance that had grown between them would never fade. He realized this now. Bruce could never love a murderer and Lex was no better than the petty criminals Bruce plucked from the city streets.

"Of course not. And whose fault is that?"

Lex slowly opened his eyes to look at the man.

"Those fucking jurors. That's whose fault it is. And whose fault is it for agreeing with those jurors and locking you away? That fucking judge."

"The jurors." He repeated quietly. "The judge. All of them."

The Joker continued to ramble on but Lex hardly paid any more attention to his words. He was far more distracted with the truth of his situation. Bruce had tried to maintain a perfect presentation of normality in their lives when Lex left Arkham but normality nor perfection fit in the young Luthor's agenda. With the help of the jurors, the judge had taken every essence of his being. They had taken the remnants of his soul he had desperately clung onto through Lionel's tyranny. Fuck them. All of them and like Morgan, they would regret all of it..

Yet the small voice within the depth of his mind reminded him that perhaps he was being irrational. They were only doing his job. The judge determined he was mentally unstable not that he was a criminal and perhaps he was right after all. Maybe he was just as insane as the Joker. His hands clenched tightly at his sides turning a ghastly pale shade.

He was suddenly brought back to the reality by the Joker's hands tightly pressing against his chest, pulling his thin body against the Joker's. Lex's body quickly tensed beneath the man's hands and clenching his jaw he tried to put a few inches between them but found the Joker's clutches surprisingly strong.

"Don't touch me." He growled. "You fucking lunatic."

"Darling, don't you think that it's time for those people to pay for what they did to you? Don't you think that they should feel the pain that you felt as those dreadful guards were fastening that straight jacket around your body?"

"I-- there are better ways to destroy a man than death, Joker." Though nothing nearly as satisfying he realized. "They were just doing their jobs."

The man's breath was hot against his ear and as he attempted to turn his head from it, the Joker produced a thin blade from his purple sleeve, pressing it dangerously against Lex's neck. He would have gulped had he not fear that it might rubbing painfully against the knife's sharpened blade.

"Just give me a couple days to think about it." He growled coiling his hands around the Joker's fingers. Pulling a finger back, he found the man's grip reluctantly break and Lex quickly retreated around the desk, finally putting a safe gap between them. "How do I contact you again? The way it is I can't exactly come around here again."
_________________________________________________________________________

Lex fell into a daze the moment he stepped from the Joker's makeshift office. The door closed abruptly behind him and in precise movements, he descended the spiral staircase through the warehouse ground floor to Bruce's vehicle. Bruce did not drive this particular car very often but he still favored it and still it carried the subtle hint of his scent.

It was so vague, so embedded in the fine fabric of the car's interior Lex nearly doubted sensing it at all but no, the fragrance existed. No matter how gentle or vague. He knew the scent anywhere and in the bowels of Arkham, he had often imagined smelling it as he laid upon his stiff cot. The young bald man closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the seat. What was he doing? Morgan Edge was dead now. He could no longer bring pain or misery to either Bruce or Lex any more. Yet this yearning in his chest for something more frightened him. The Joker had only just eased the tension that consumed him. His words had made sense and beyond the anxiety, the Joker gave him the faint wisps of power that he wanted the moment Lionel's casket was lowered into the ground.

He never had the chance, Lex realized as he turned the key in the ignition. Both the jurors and the Judge had stolen the young Luthor's opportunity to become more than just his father's shadow. They threw him away thinking that he would never rise again. Imbeciles. He would show them. All of them. From the jurors to the Judge to even Bruce, who Lex now understood his caution. How could he love a murderer? The Joker's voice whispered. How could Gotham's shining star and secretly Dark Knight love a man who broke the very structure he lived his life by?

Bruce could not. He would not.

The sleek black car swung around the corner taking the first exit from the warehouse. He shifted gears entering the interstate taking the moment to experiment with the car's superb controls. It was the long way back to Bruce's manor but fuck, he had a lot of his mind and the drive would eventually calm the voices. Or maybe not but that was okay too.

Lex's foot pressed against the gas pedal and in a chain reaction of sorts a long grin cracked his pale complexion.

"I'm sure that I do not have to tell you that you're a very lucky man, Mr Wayne." The woman giggled and continued typing away loudly on her keyboard, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she looked at Gotham's favorite billionaire. Bruce furrowed his brow but continued smiling and crossed one leg over the other, mostly in an effort to just give himself something to do. "Forgive my ignorance, Ms Johansen, but may I ask why I'm so lucky despite the obvious?"

Ms Johansen chuckled and ceased the typing for just a moment to give Bruce a "shouldn't the answer be obvious?" kind of look. She paused before speaking, as if waiting for Bruce to come up with an answer all on his own, but when the man stayed silent she took it upon herself to answer his question. "Well, this type of case is unprecedented in Gotham. No one of your status and, excuse me, sexual orientation have ever even discussed this type of adoption before."

"Are you saying that gay couples have never tried to adopt from your orphanage before?"

"Oh no, they have, but... well..." Ms Johansen paused again, this time due to her own discomfort with the topic at hand. She did not want the Mr Wayne to be angry with her because of her statements. "Well, unfortunately gay couples are usually denied the privilege of adopting children. I think the reason that you have made it so far in your inquiries is because of your financial standing. Any agency would be ecstatic to help you find a child to care for."

Bruce smirked and shook his head. While he appreciated the woman's honesty he still found it rather disturbing to know that if it were not for his bank account he probably would have been tossed away with that first call. "Well, disregarding the fact that my homosexual tendencies already make me a less than desirable candidate, is there anything else that would potentially stand in my way?"

Another pause. This woman, albeit sweet in her own way, was rather transparent when it came to delivering bad news. She lifted up a painted nail and combed slowly through her graying blonde hair. "Well, Mr Wayne, while there is nothing wrong with you exactly, there is an issue with your, um, partner, Lex Luthor." Bruce had been expecting that answer and said nothing, only nodded for her to continue. "As long as Mr Luthor is living with you and involved in your life on a daily basis, we cannot allow Richie to come home with you."

Although Bruce had been suspecting every word that came out of Ms Johansen's mouth they still left him at a loss for words. He sighed and run his hand over his stubbled chin, trying to think of something, anything that would get her--and perhaps the rest of the world--to see that there was nothing inside of Lex that was really violent. He wasn't a danger to anyone but himself, really, and Bruce would ensure that Lex always kept himself safe and sane. They could handle it, they could start a family and give an orphan child the parents that he deserved. They could.

"Isn't there any way that something can be arranged? I assure you that Lex is getting healthier each day, and I'm sure that his doctors would agree. Maybe there is some kind of temporary system that we could implement--"

"I'm sorry, Mr Wayne, but it is completely against our policy to adopt out children to those with criminal records. I wish that I could say otherwise, because I do think that you and Mr Luthor would make the most adorable of parents..." Ms Johansen chuckled nervous and resumed typing on her computer. Whatever it was that she was typing up sounded urgent, for her fingers clacked against the keyboards almost angrily. "I'm sorry, Mr Wayne, but it's just something that cannot be done."

Bruce bit his lower lip and offered the woman a small smile. "Thank you for your time, Ms Johansen. I appreciate it." He stood up from his chair and gently shook his jacket to rid it of the wrinkles that it had acquired since he first sat down in the chair across from Ms Emily Johansen's desk. He stared down at the floor with blank eyes, knowing that despite the growing feeling of need in his stomach, a need for a family and unconditional love that he had not felt since he was eight years old, despite that feeling that he had to do something there was nothing that could be done. He could not just demand for a child to appear in his hands.

"Is it all right if I see Richie before I go?"

"Of course, Mr Wayne." Ms Johansen smiled and led Bruce to the nursery, where a number of infants and toddlers were either sleeping in their cribs or playing with toys on the floor. Richard Grayson, the tiny young boy that had caught Bruce's heart the first second that he saw him, was playing with a stuffed lion near the corner of the room. The one year old boy was tossing the lion up into the air. Every time the lion fell down to the floor the baby giggled and clapped his hands while kicking his little chubby legs with delight. Bruce had to tame the smile on his face as he made his way across the room, reaching down and picking up the baby, cradling him protectively in his arms. "Good morning, Richie," Bruce said softly, pressing the tip of his finger against Richie's button nose. The baby responded with a joyful squeal and wrapped his little hand around Bruce's finger. "Yes, I missed you too. I'll be back again soon, I promise." Richie cooed and Bruce found himself momentarily forgetting how to get home.

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The Lamborghini was gone. Again. Bruce was going to have to talk about Lex taking his favorite car. Why didn't he take the silver Porsche instead? Bruce had gotten it for Lex to begin with. Oh well.

He wondered if he should tell Lex about his feelings, about the little boy back at the Gotham orphanage who was just waiting for someone to take him in and give him the home that he deserved. He wondered if Lex was even ready for a responsibility like that. Did Lex even want to be a parent? They had never talked about it before; they had always been too busy either talking about business or fucking. Only recently had Bruce felt the pull towards parenthood and, unfortunately, Lex had not been as involved in that feeling as Bruce would have liked.

Maybe... maybe when Lex got home he would suggest it, maybe get Lex's feelings about the whole topic first before outright saying that there was a little boy that Bruce had already given his heart to. He checked his watch as he walked through the door and frowned. Hopefully Lex would come home soon.

The moment he approached the gates to Wayne Manor Lex's pulse quickened. Pespiration beaded across his forehead and the utter imperturbable, collected demeanor his father was known for was far from his grasps. It was not nerves nor the monster of anxiety that made his stomach turn over. No, the demon that possessed him dawned a deeper color in comparision. Filled with darker tones of red and clasped tightly around Lex's shoulders. His knuckles became ghostly white gripping the steering wheel tight enough to feel his finger nails cut into the palm of his hand. Lex bared his teeth staring at the gargoyles who stood upon the podiums of the gates.

Bruce the Liar.

Everything the man had said since leaving Arkham had been lies. Every single word of eternal love and beginning a new life together had all been lies. How could he let himself to fall into the fantasy Bruce drew for him? And for what reason? To 'appease' or perhaps 'calm' his deluded his mind. The man's cautious words and actions-- Bruce was afraid his mind would shatter again. Better yet, Bruce thought his mind could never be mended. Lex was a hopeless fool lost in the fragile lines of reality and all the more, a filthy criminal. A murderer. Hardly better than the very man who killed the Waynes.

Bruce the Wise.

The Saint and Gotham's secret Savior. He could do no wrong. This purveyor of justice-- of all that is moral and immoral. How dare he dictate his sanctimonious beliefs to him? Acting as if he had some devine right to act accordingly. Numerous newspapers had written article after article questioning the legalities and ethics behind Batman, but if Lex had to draw conclusions it would have very little to do with the bat cowl and more to do with the man hiding behind it.

Bruce did not love him.

The voice echoed in his mind. With this understanding clear in his mind, it made him wonder why he bothered coming back tonight. He pulled the expensive car into the massive garage around the back of the Neo-Renassiance establishment. After pulling the keys from the ignition, he placed them very delicately in the front pocket of his suit. He caught his reflection from the review mirror which brought his attention to the little specks of blood marring his white shirt's collar. His fingers drummed across the small plastic space between the shifter and parking brake, filling the dead air around him with the sound of his very own internal trepidation. Lex's foot begin to bounce against the rubber floor mats though it forced his knee to hit against the steering wheel.

Nothing was keeping him anchored to the life that Bruce was forcing him into. Bruce should have left him to die in Arkham. The world held nothing more for him than the feeble wisps of the life he once held. He needed something more than the stains of blood on his shirt and the fake kisses Bruce had pressed against his lips only hours ago. Bittersweet kisses that left his lips tingling. Lex reached out to adjust the mirror watching the black circles beneath his glacial hues disappear from his sight. He pressed his now free hand against his knee calming the tremors.

What choice did he have? He was exhausted from living the lie that Bruce had created for him. Within Arkham's walls he had yearned for freedom and now that he held it firmly in his hands, he did not feel the rush of triumph but instead retained the bitter taste of defeat. Regardless of all odds he managed to get out but the Judge and jurors had stripped away all that he had ever cared for: LuthorCorp and Bruce's love. Lex slammed his hands against the steering wheel causing jolts of pain to rush through his arms and reverbrating in his shoulders.

He was sick of playing Bruce's games. No more would he be the man's little pet project. Bruce's presence was stifling and Lex needed to breathe again. He yearned to feel the brisk night air against his pale skin. Even more he needed the Joker to help fill the void in his chest that both the Judge and Jurors (and maybe even... Bruce) had created. A resentment that ran further than his incarceration.

Lex exited Bruce's beloved and car but rather than taking the steps that led back into the manor, he approached the Porsche Turbo the man had given him months ago. Along the wall next to the silver Porsche, Bruce's mechanics had left small gasoline tanks. Taking one of the numerous small red tanks, he poured the foul smelling liquid across the expanse of the car both inside and out. When he was satisifed with his work, he retrieved the heavy butane lighter (a gift from his father when he had taken over the fertilizer plant) from the pocket of his slacks. With a flick f his wrist, the lid easily fell open exposing the flame and its blue burning glory.

Why he decided to burn the Porsche instead of the Lambo was hardly a gesture but instead a need. The silver lighter fell from his hand to fall upon the black leather seats which instantly ignited the interior of the car. Lex shut the door with the toe of his shoe before quckly retreating to Bruce's Lambo. He did not offer Wayne Manor one last fleeting glance as he sped down the driveway.
_______________________________________________________________________________

"Bruce. God, has it really been a lifetime since I've seen you? You look great."

“Not half as good as you, Lex. You still have that lovely snow white glow to you. I’ve always liked that, you know."

Memories and voices whispered their sweet songs in his ear as he drove. Somewhere between Wayne Manor and where he was now-- the outskirts of Gotham-- he had called the Joker with the number the clown had written on -- what else?-- a joker card. The address the man had provided had not led him to the same dilapidated warehouse, but instead an even worse looking house in a neighborhood that would surely strip and steal every piece of metal from Bruce's car. He parked the car around the side of the house. Men (convicts he was certain) litered the surrounding area. The steps leading into the house creaked beneath his Italian leather shoes.

The stench that existed within the house was nearly enough to make him turn around. It was only through sheer will that he continued past the living, where a blond girl had her skirt pulled down around her ankles and was being viciously fucked by a large man donning a clown mask. Her moans were echoed by other girls who either laid on the floor or the most convenient unoccupied space. At least he partly knew where the foul stench had risen from. The sound of their high pitch moans followed him down the narrow hallway and up a staircase. He kept his slender hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black peacoat, afraid to touch anything. For fear of contamination of whatever filth had layered over the walls and other surfaces of the house.

Lex paused before the last door at the end of the hallway. Voices were drifting from the small cracks around the sides of the door. Both of which he recognized easily. The Joker and his darling right hand girl (for lack of better words.) His gloved hand hovered over the door knob. Was this what he wanted? What he had been searching for? Not that it mattered. It was too late to turn back. Before turning the doorknob, he briefly twisted the ring on his finger.

"Joker." He announced entering the room. "It's time. I'm ready."

Perhaps Lex did not care, or maybe his mind was so far gone that he had not even considered the option, but Bruce knew that before long the fire and police departments would realize that expensive sports cars did not just spontaneously combust all their own. Questions would be asked, more than had been asked tonight, and it was Bruce who would have to do the answering. It did not disturb Bruce, the idea that he would have to cover for Lex's act of min-terrorism. It would not have been the first time in their lives that Bruce had had to cover for some terrible act that Lex committed due to his own spontaneous nature, but arson and grand larceny were new to mix. Never before had Lex done something so unpredictable, never before had he crossed the line from being the formulaic and calculable man that Bruce had fallen for so many years ago to a creature that dwelt in his own mental bedlam. Earlier that night, as Bruce watched the uniformed men douse Lex's fire he could see images of himself twirling with Lex in the flames. The fire made Bruce's eyes glow as figures continued to dance along his pupils. For months Bruce had lied to himself, ignoring the signs of degeneration in Lex's mind. It took the flames, a physical representation of Lex's growing fury, for Bruce to finally admit to himself that although Lex was out of Arkham, Arkham was nowhere near being out of Lex.

Retreating to the Batcave beneath Wayne Manor, Bruce activated the GPS tracker located inside of the Lamborghini Gallardo that Lex had taken. He had been favoring the vehicle lately, Bruce had noticed that, but why Lex had suddenly become so partial to it Bruce had not entirely understood. Perhaps the asylum had changed more things about Lex than Bruce had dared to realize.

The large plasma monitor sprang to life as Bruce watched with narrowed eyes. The red light on the screen zoomed its way on the outskirts of the Gotham warehousing district. Perhaps Lex wanted Bruce to follow him; it seemed almost impossible to Bruce that Lex, being a paranoid Luthor, would not bother to consider the option that Bruce had every single one of his cars bugged. The only car that Bruce had not put a tracker on was Lex's, which was now nothing more than a pile of black twisted metal doomed for the scrap yard.

"Are you going to go after him, sir?" Alfred asked as he stood behind his young master, watching the tension in Bruce's shoulders build.

"I don't have a choice, Alfred." Bruce could not be bothered to consider the option of not going after Lex, not after all the pieces of evidence that Lex had thrown in his direction basically stating that he was intent on letting Gotham bleed. Bruce lowered his head and bit his lower lip. Being the greatest detective in the world meant nothing if one was blind to all of the clues in front of him.

When he lifted his head Bruce saw that the Lamborghini had stopped. Lex was located in the filthiest part of town. Lower Gotham was filled with nothing but drug addicts and prostitutes, runaways and crime lords. What Lex could find there that he could not find with here, with Bruce, he could not understand. He needed to investigate, needed to understand what was going on in the fucked up head that Bruce loved so desperately. He had to follow Lex, it was his obligation, not as Batman, but as his lover.

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"Oh, Mr J, ya really are too good to me," Harley moaned, spreading her legs just a little bit wider as Joker lay himself between them. He watched as her milky chest rose up and down and smiled. The valley between her breasts was the perfect place to lay out a line of cocaine for himself. She giggled as he sprinkled the white powder on her skin and he reprimanded her for moving. As Joker lowered his head in between her breasts she held her breath so as not to upset him.

"Dollface, you really know how to please a man, you know that? You should make a living out of it." Joker lifted his face from Harley's chest, staring at the lipstick smudge that he had left on her skin. He shrugged his shoulders, at the moment not particularly caring whether or not his face was made up to perfection. It was not like he had an appearance scheduled today anyway.

An uninvited figure forced his way through the door at that point--Joker knew he had forgotten to do something with that fucking door--and announced his presence in the most melodramatic manners possible. But then, perhaps that was merely to be expected from a Luthor.

"Oh, nice to see you too, Lexie dear. I understand that you're just as queer, perhaps even more so, than I am, but please do take the time to knock before you just wander into rooms with closed doors. You never know what you're going to find and, really, do we want to take those kinds of chances?"

Harley, unlike many women, did not bother to try and hide her naked body from Lex's view but instead watched as Joker merely walked to the corner of the room to cover his own nude form. His thin body was even skinnier than it had been a few years before, back when he was still being fawned over by Bruce Wayne. Sharp ribs protruded from Joker's sides and as he bent down to gather his pants each vertebra of his spine poked out beneath the skin. His arms and legs resembled twigs more than human limbs and although not very tall, the lack of muscle in his legs and his long torso gave him the illusion of height.

He slowly lifted his trousers up over his bony legs and the ass that Bruce had once fancied. Joker did not bother to zip up the trousers and let them hang off of his hips, finally turning around to give Lex his full attention.

"Now, cupcake, I think it's time for you and I to set a few ground rules. If you want to do this then you gotta do it right and I'm not here to negotiate with half-assers, you understand? Of course you do, you're a Luthor. Who in all of Gotham and Metropolis has a better reputation for working than the Luthors? No one, that's who. You're a kind of people who know what they want and how to go for it, right, Lexie? C'mere, darling, let me get a good look at you."

Joker reached out and pulled on Lex's sleeve, dragging him toward the small table next Harley that housed a few dimebags of coke. Joker looked at Harley and told her to not breathe as he drew a line of cocaine on her stomach. "Now, Lexie, you tell me what you want and I'll tell you how to get it. We'll be business partners, in a sense. All you have to do is delve into the darkness of Gotham, Lex. Because that's where the real power is."

Joker pointed to the white powder on Harley's stomach and smiled. "Go ahead, Lexie. Take a hit and tell me who you want to kill first."

As a child, Lex had clung to the image of his mother to guide him through the torment of bullies and rejection from his classmates. They pushed the small bald child to the ground, hounded him with a storm of punches and verbal insults that were far beyond the comprehension of a boy of ten, of eleven and twelve. It wasn't until he was thirteen that he understand precisely what the worlds meant and perhaps it was that realization that hurt more than Lionel's abuse. Standing between the threshold of the Joker's bedroom suite, in the haze of his delirium and the anguish he had only been feeling moments ago, Lex could not see his mother's face. Did she have a round face or had it been sharped? High cheek bones and oval green eyes that would seem far too soft to appeal to his father, but nevertheless how they loved each other so.

It had been a time the boy foolishly thought love was eternal, and nothing could ever break the bond he had between his mother and father. Until his mother became sick and Julian died and Lionel blamed all of their misfortune on him, Lex. A mere boy who was beginning to lose faith in the world and Lex knew-- oh he fucking knew-- that life would never be the same.

The soles of Lex's shoes clicked against the worn hardwood floors as he entered. He was not surprised to see the Joker's beloved harlot spread across the bed in all her naked glory, but was oddly pleased to witness the Joker quickly rise to cover his own naked atrocity which despite his best efforts, Lex felt himself obligated to watch. The man's body was sick-- skeletal if he were to describe it. Bones apparent through his thin pale skin. He should have been shocked to see such deformities but upon witnessing the amount of crack cocaine infesting nearly every crevice there, Lex only expected it. Even as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, he was far from the reality of it all.

Again he found himself reminiscing over childish thoughts. Once again life would never be the same. It was a sentiment he had thought he'd leave behind the morning Lillian Luthor had been lowered into the ground, the shimmering elegance of her opulent oak casket tainted by the dirt the cemetery workers shoveled into the six foot hole. He had been afraid to look but Lionel had demanded and thus he acquiescence. Even now the image burned his retinas forcing him to rapidly blink in a feeble attempt to rid himself of it. Irrelevant, he told himself, though the Joker's ghastly figured reminded him just how his father's body must look, rotting in his very own elegant casket.

Lex only caught fragments of the Joker's voice and it wasn't until he bumped into a broken dresser that he realized the man was actually addressing him. Standing a few feet from the bed now, the Joker had managed to retrieve his pants and was currently looking directly at him. Exhausted and weary of the memories, voices and events of the day, Lex simply shrugged his narrow shoulders offering no more than an arch of his slender eyebrow to the clown.

"Now, cupcake, I think it's time for you and I to set a few ground rules. If you want to do this then you gotta do it right and I'm not here to negotiate with half-assers, you understand? Of course you do, you're a Luthor. Who in all of Gotham and Metropolis has a better reputation for working than the Luthors? "

"I'm not in the mood for your fucking games, Joker." Lex attempted to interject but his voice was lost somewhere amidst the Joker's rambling.

"No one, that's who. You're a kind of people who know what they want and how to go for it, right, Lexie? C'mere, darling, let me get a good look at you."

The young bald man opened his mouth to speak but the Joker's cold, grimy hand grasped the sleeve of his coat and dragged him across the room leaving Lex's train of thought and words somewhere behind them. They stood next to naked girl who said nothing as her master drew a fine line of coke down her perfectly smooth stomach. Lex felt his saliva slowly trickle down his throat.

"Now, Lexie, you tell me what you want and I'll tell you how to get it. We'll be business partners, in a sense. All you have to do is delve into the darkness of Gotham, Lex. Because that's where the real power is."

When it came down to it all, Lex no longer felt the inherent yearning for power. He simply wanted to feel again. At least feel something other than this utter loathing he contained since leaving Arkham. He wanted to tear himself away from the anguish that Bruce, the judge and jurors had bestowed. Inhaling deeply Lex shut his eyes banishing the Joker and his beloved whore from his sight.. if only momentarily. He needed to recollect his thoughts and find his bearings against the chaos swimming in his head. It was becoming terribly difficult to hear beyond the chattering there.

"Power." He whispered allowing his arms to fall at his sides. "Real power."

What exactly he meant by that-- whether it was a clear declaration of what he wanted or a quiet defeat-- the Joker seemed pleased anyway. He eagerly pointed at the girl (whose named seemed to escape Lex) and the white powder that tainted her skin.

"Go ahead, Lexie. Take a hit and tell me who you want to kill first."

He drove his knee between the girl's legs and planting his hands on either side of her slender frame, Lex leaned in to press his nose against the smooth surface of her skin and quickly inhaled deeply as he ran the length of cocaine. Cocaine had never been his designer drug of choice preferring substances like meth or heroin to ease the anxiety monster living within his chest cavity, but he was living in different times and the exhaustion that had leaked into his body was quickly evaporating. Within the next twenty minutes it would no longer exist and Lex would conquer the world. That was with a little help from his new friend: The Joker.

Together they would be great.

Together they would feel. At least Lex would feel again.

"I want them all to pay, Joker." Lex slurred lifting his head from the harlot's body. His body unceremoniously fell next to her own. Europhia seeped through his veins and while the cocaine (it must have been cut with bleach or maybe baking powder) he had just sniffed was burning through his mucus membranes, Lex stretched his arms out in front of him observing just how odd hands actually looked. He clenched and unclenched them trying to determine what exactly he was trying to grasp. Laughter suddenly erupted from his rose lips. "Every last one of them. I don't give a fuck who you off first. No! Actually--"

He paused and jammed a finger against the bridge of his nose. "Go in alphabetical order for all I fucking care or you could pick them off by degrees of how fucking ugly they are. I don't fucking care, Joker!" Lex turned his joyous face towards the clown. He reached over the young harlot next to him and just barely grasped the Joker's thin neck, bring him close to deliver his point. "JUST FUCKING KILL THEM ALL. HA! HAHAHAHA!"

Ned Borsten was a very dull man. He was a simple accountant, working for one of the most powerful and well-known firms on the eastern coast of the United States. But as far as his job position was considered he was nothing more than a grunt man whose only purpose was to crunch the numbers that the big high-and-mighty accountants were too busy to care about. Ned had never really done anything interesting in his thirty-three years of life. He received average grades as a child, when to an average university where he was in the middle of his class, married an average-looking woman named Mary-Anne and had average children who were no more extraordinary than he was when he was a child. The only interesting thing that he could genuinely say happened in his lifetime was being a part of the jury a few years ago for the Lex Luthor case.

To this day he still brought it up to Mary-Anne every now and again, just because he felt himself so proud of his mild accomplishment. Mary-Anne always just simply nodded her dirty blonde head and continued to skim through Cosmopolitan magazine as Ned repeated his tale for the umpteenth time in her ear. Today he was feeling particularly nostalgic and was repeating the harrowing story, describing Lex's departure in the straight jacket with painstaking detail. As he spoke Ned began to notice his mouth salivating a little more than usual. He paused in the middle of his story, swallowing a large amount of saliva and placing his hand on his abdomen. Suddenly Ned did not feel so well. His insides pained him and although he was salivating profusely he still found himself painfully thirsty. He stood up, thinking that perhaps all he needed was a glass of cool water. Upon getting to his feet Ned vomited on the kitchen table, to Mary-Anne's great dismay, and felt his intestines burn as they pushed unabsorbed water through his body.

Mary-Anne had rushed to his side, trying to hold up Ned's weak body and set him back down, but her small frame could barely handle his dead weight. "Oh, Ned, you're burning up!" she squeaked after feeling the bare skin of his face press against her forehead. "Oh no, don't worry, honey, I'm calling 911!" With the one hand that she managed to free from Ned's limp form, Mary-Anne retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the emergency number. She could still feel Ned's burning skin against her own and wondered how anyone could develop a fever so quickly. It wasn't long after the call, perhaps only a minute or two, before Mary-Anne was unable to hold Ned up anymore due to his unstoppable shaking. Ned had begun having a seizure and although Mary-Anne had once taken that emergency first aid course back in high school she found that she remembered nothing about what to do for someone when he is having a seizure. There was something to do with the tongue, right?

His body convulsed and twisted as she let it drop to the floor, unable to hold him up any longer. Ned groaned in pain and felt as if his entire body was being set on fire. The arbin from the seeds that Mary-Anne has placed on Ned's dinner salad a few hours ago was now beginning to course through his system and form lesions on his organs and cause hemorrhaging. Although, poor little Mary-Anne hadn't know that it was the seeds' fault. The charming young man at the farmer's market said that they were much better than pine nuts!

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"This is only the beginning, my dear Lexie. The recipe for death is really such an easy one. You simply start with a few ounces of rosemary pea seeds, add a few fires, a few quick throat slits and the pleasant sound of a car bomb and BOOM you have a jury holocaust!" Joker giggled maniacally as he draped himself over Lex's bony lap. It seemed like in the few days that Lex had been staying in the house with Joker, Harley and all of the Joker goons that Lex had lost about ten pounds. Joker would have never even thought it possible?

"What do you say, Lex? Already a few of your precious jury members are nothing more than worms' food. Don't you think that you should be a little more excited to learn this? Or perhaps you're just not high enough yet... " Joker reached over Harley's lap to get another bag of cocaine, now that his current one was down to its last few grains of powder. He blindly slapped the bag into Lex's hand and waited for the bald man to do his thing.

In just a few days Joker had already managed to off Samantha Romini (car bomb), Vivianne Carter (house fire), Jeremy Duncan (thirty-seven stab wounds to the torso and head), Monica Kang (pushed her off the roof of a forty-two story building), Charles Klonowski (eaten by starving rottweilers) and now Ned Borsten (poisoning via arbin). Six of the twelve jurors that had put Lex into Arkham were dead. The Gotham police force had their panties up in a giant twist and Batman, oh that CRAZY BAT, was probably looking for them RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

To say that Joker was proud of his work would have been an understatement. He was pleased to see weak people disposed with at his feet (the world did not need their worthless asses, anyway), and surely pure, innocently little Lex Luthor, apple of Bruce Wayne's eye, was beginning to see the power in it as well.

"Tell me, Lexie darling, who should I off now, hm? Who is next on your list of people to punish?" Joker was so amused, knowing that he had Lex wrapped around his purple gloved finger. There was no way that Lex would leave now, no way that he would go running back to Bruce to only prove that Bruce would always and forever be right. No, no, he wasn't. He wasn't right. Joker was right. Joker knew the truth, knew what was going on the underbelly of Gotham.

How could someone like Bruce Wayne ever know anything like that?

He was utterly miserable wallowing in the dark abyss that the Joker's precious retreat on the outskirts of Gotham. While the house remained in constant chaos between the Joker's unstable tantrums, deliriums and blood lust-- the other sparse moments were consumed in the sheer debauchery of the soul. In every crevice, every corner and surface of the house was occupied with sinful pleasures that left Lex's skin tingling and his stomach churning. Without his pills, there was no slumber to become his safe haven and his sheer misery led to more consumption of the Joker's street side drugs (which was really just crap and he was utterly disappointed with the quality that the clown manage to acquire.) Cocaine that was surely cut with whatever powdery fillers to populate the local street market. Baking soda maybe? It didn't matter. The effects were typically the same and never lasting long enough. His tastes craved more but the Joker never seemed to properly deliver. Perhaps he ought to switch to a different methamphetamine? Something-- anything-- to numb the despair that secretly lingered.

Being cooped within the dilapidated house was beginning to lose its appeal. The young Luthor was restless and the tremors that wracked his body were getting worse day after day, hit after hit. Or should he say after every slaying he hear the television in the Joker's bedroom report. The media was not stupid despite popular belief. They easily caught on to the faint (or not so faint) similarity between the murders. Every man and woman killed were linked by one sin: the Lex Luthor trial. And he wondered vaguely now if they regretted it on their dying breath but he would hardly know. Lex was not stupid enough to witness their deaths in person. Instead he lived vicariously through the Joker's grimy little details. Some nights he listened to the Joker's story with a morbid curiosity and others, he was turned off from the facts and instead haunted the furthest corners of the house to avoid listening to the Joker's chiding laughter. His hands shook the most those nights.

"This is only the beginning, my dear Lexie. The recipe for death is really such an easy one. You simply start with a few ounces of rosemary pea seeds, add a few fires, a few quick throat slits and the pleasant sound of a car bomb and BOOM you have a jury holocaust!"

The Joker's thin frame fell over his lap and if it had been a few weeks ago, Lex would have recoiled in disgust upon feeling the man's weight pressed against his own, but tonight it was the few remaining tangible reminders that all was not just some sympathomimetic drug effect. A part of him felt compelled to close his blood shot eyes and wrap his arms around the clown's waist and pretend he was something more. Thankfully he contained enough clarity to avoid such absurdity instead keeping his arms firmly at his sides with his hands clenched tightly around the edge of his seat.

"If only I had known things were so simple." His voice was nothing more than a deep rasp, grating along his esophagus. It hurt to speak nearly drawing tears from the corner of his eyes. "Perhaps I would not have ended in such a predicament."

"What do you say, Lex? Already a few of your precious jury members are nothing more than worms' food. Don't you think that you should be a little more excited to learn this? Or perhaps you're just not high enough yet... "

Maybe he underestimated the Joker. Lex had thought he had hidden his misery quite well or it was quite possible that the clown's quip had been nothing more than a shot in the dark. It was difficult to tell. Lex remained stoic regardless. The Joker reached across his lovely harlot, who had situated herself on the desk next to them, retrieving another dime bag of cocaine only to slap it into his hand nearly making the small bag Lex currently held fall from his hand. Lex sighed as he dipped his finger into the tiny bag, coating it in the fine powder he rubbed it along his gums tasting the bitterness momentarily as it was quickly absorbed into his system. He did it a few more times until half the bag had dissipated after which he stored the rest into the front pocket of his filthy coat.

His eye lids fell from the weight of pleasure the drug brought nearly instantaneously and he allowed his head to uncomfortably fall back against the chair. The exhaustion that had threatened to over take him quickly disappeared and Lex once more was beginning to feel the power the drug commanded. He clenched his hand feeling every individual muscle fiber twitch in response.

How could he possibly find excitement in all this? He could not even determine whether if it had all been worth it if. If it had in fact been what he had wanted in the first place. The Joker's words had sounded so right... so fucking clear with every ounce of prevailing justice (in its own right of course!) or better yet prevailing vengeance that would solve all of Lex's problems. Now with six jury members good and dead Lex could not say he felt an ounce of satisfaction. Morgan Edge's death had felt far more accomplishing but he could not comprehend why. Why? Why, why, why, WHY?! FUCK!

Lex pressed the palm of his hand against his eye savoring the pressure. "I think I'm high enough, Joker."

"Tell me, Lexie darling, who should I off now, hm? Who is next on your list of people to punish?"

"My list?" Lex wrapped his arms around the Joker's shoulders and pressed his lips against the man's ear. "You mean our list. And to be perfectly honest with you Joker, all of these murders you've committed thus far have done NOTHING for me!" He angrily pushed the Joker from his lap letting the man fall upon the hardwood floors only to stand over him a few seconds later. "You promised me vengeance Joker and I have felt naught but a trace of it. You spoke sweet words of revenge, justice served and all hell of chaos to reign supreme, but I have yet to see anything."

The words spat like venom from his lips and grasping the lapels of the Joker's dark purple coat, he pulled him close to his face. "Prove to me that this has all been worth it, Joker or I swear to fucking God I will kill you myself."

Despite having his eyes trained on the Joker's marred face from the very peripheral of his sight, Lex thought he saw a rather broad shouldered figure looming over them. His mind was surely playing tricks on his drugged brain but he did not resist the temptation to turn his head toward the door frame. The door was open though darkness shrouded most of the hall. A light flickered just beyond the hallway in a room that Lex had never ventured toward. He let the Joker slip from his clutches to stand on his feet. The light compelled him and he answered. His feet slowly shuffled towards the door way which suddenly disappeared the moment he stepped across the threshold and the light he had been staring at just moments before engulfed him.

His body was weightless, floating across an expanse that most surely be the purgatory he had read about in so many tales of fiction and faith (though arguably the same thing.) Lex's arms fell languidly at his sides as he floated along in utter silence. Was he dead?

God, it was so peaceful here. So.. clean. No rotting wood or creaking staircases. No drugs or the heavy scent of sex and rotting food lingered in the air. It was just.. pure. If only he could remain here for all eternity...

He felt obligated to open his eyes however. The young Luthor found himself lowered gently onto his feet as what seemed to be a dock suddenly formed beneath him. Above him the sky turned a soft orange-pink that reminded him of the summer sunsets in Gotham. Just at the end of the dock two boys (at least he thought so) sat huddled together. One had another tucked in the crook of his shoulder it seemed and as he slowly approached, he could hear the faint sounds of their voices.

"We all fall, Lex." Bruce?! Could it really be? No.. he was just a boy. "Even the bravest, the strongest or cleverest. It's about having someone there to catch you that lets you strive."

"And when have you ever let me catch you, Bruce? I'm afraid I can't recall." His voice cheekily replied, nuzzling further into the crook of Bruce's shoulder. He can't have been more than thirteen. Maybe Lex really had died.

"You have been since I met you, Lex." Bruce's voice was quiet spoken solely for Lex's ears and no else.

"Please take me to Asia with you, Bruce. I don't want to be alone."

"No Lex, I can't. You have.. family here."

"But it's not--"

"You know I can't, Lex." Silence. The sound of the sea hitting against the docks filled the tense air between the boys. "I love you."

It was weird waking up from a dream you didn't realize you were having. For a moment, he had truly believed he had been only thirteen sitting on the Gotham docks with Bruce, eating heavy caloric ice cream and enjoying the sea breeze. It hurt more to realize that he was still standing over the Joker with the man's clothes firmly in his clutches.

What. The. Fuck?!

"Do we have an understanding, Joker?"

Was that his voice speaking again? It had to be.
Fuck, he hated himself.

Everything seemed to be going so well. As the powder flit up his nose and filled every last crevice of his nasal cavity Joker could see that everything was going according to plan. It was only a matter of time before Bruce Wayne realized that his precious darling Lex Luthor was far more than the common criminal, a murderer to the most sophisticated of degrees and everything Bruce had ever vouched for, every tiring platitude that Bruce had spout out again and again and expected his lovers to believe was going to crumble at his feet. Joker was proving with each kill just how weak and scared people like Bruce Wayne truly were. How people like the Batman were nothing more than obsessive-compulsive freaks just trying put everything in the world into tiny little boxes that they could organize and control. It was so pointless and unnecessary that it was obscene to think that Joker wouldn't want to disturb that.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly. However, the moment that Lex Luthor began to raise his voice to the Joker the clown realized that something was horribly amiss. The moment that Lex began yelling, the moment that he placed his hands on Joker, when normally he acted as if Joker was a leper, Joker knew that his plan was careening off course and he needed to do damage control, quickly. Lex was not supposed to have a spine, he wasn't supposed to feel emotions other than what Joker suggested he feel. Joker's fledgling murderer was beginning to have a mind of his own and that was not good. No, no, not good at all.

"My list?" Joker gruffed as Lex wrapped his arms around him, feeling cold shivers bite as his body as Lex breathed in his ear. "You mean our list. And to be perfectly honest with you Joker, all of these murders you've committed thus far have done NOTHING for me!"

"Hey, watch the goods, slut!" Joker called out, chuckling dangerously as he sat him and wiped nonexistent dust from the shoulder of his purple coat. Despite Joker's increasing feelings of discontent he maintained a vague sense of cool calculation that always managed to linger in the back of his green eyes.

"You promised me vengeance Joker and I have felt naught but a trace of it. You spoke sweet words of revenge, justice served and all hell of chaos to reign supreme, but I have yet to see anything."

"Well, you're a tough cock to please, aren't you?" Joker hissed, rolling his eyes as Lex moved about above him. He was not about to give into Lex's little hissy fit, but he couldn't exactly completely ignore it or he would risk losing all of his precious work.

Joker did not turn away as Lex pulled him close to his face. He reveled in the feel of Lex's warm breath against his face.

"Prove to me that this has all been worth it, Joker or I swear to fucking God I will kill you myself."

"Well, considering that we're no where near a balcony I hight doubt that there's anything that you can really do to me, Lexie." Joker snickered and pulled Lex's grip away from his coat. "Be easy on the suit; it didn't come cheap." The Joker stood up and took a few steps back from Lex, observing the thin man as if he were some kind of wild animal that simply needed a little tranquilizer before he could be safely brought back to Joker's zoo.

"Lexie, it sounds to me that you just need to get a little more hands on experience with your... victims. I think that I have just the remedy for your particular malady. Why don't we take a little trip down to the warehouse, hm? I have a wonderful surprise for you. You know, for being such a fantastic business partner." Joker smiled that everlasting grin and took Lex's white hand into his purple one. "I promise, you won't be able to contain yourself when you see what I have up my sleeve."

Another wide grin, a twinkling eye and Joker knew that he had him. Lex would not just kill him right away. He would give the Joker a chance to prove that he was worth his time (which he undoubtedly was). That was the problem with weak people. They were always willing to let the most offensive slide and give a second chance that the offender most always did not deserve. They didn't have the fucking balls to just pull the trigger. Oh sure, Lex had killed his own father and killed that horrible Morgan Edge fellow, but he wasn't really bloodthirsty, not yet. He was simply blood curious.

All he needed was a little coaxing.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Batman crouched on the top of the warehouse, balancing himself on the cracked roof and gripping the broken cement with tense gloved hands. For weeks he had been following the boyfriend that had gone AWOL, the lover that had disappeared with nothing more than a burnt Porsche left in his wake. Lex, being anything but a criminal mastermind, was not that difficult to follow. He spent the majority of his time locked away in a decrepit Victorian house on the outskirts of Gotham, right on the corner of Winchester Street and Lorrington Avenue. The paint on the walls of the house had begun peeling decades ago and now it was almost impossible to tell what the original paint color had actually been. He locked himself away in that house, that house filled with sin upon sin. Unfortunately for Batman the neighborhood was crawling with every kind of criminal that Gotham could possibly possess. Barging in on Gotham's scum's turf would have been nothing short of suicide, even for Batman.

So instead of making his presence known to all, Batman merely watched. Night after night he crept across rooftops and scaled crumbling walls to get a glimpse of the man that now pretended to be Lex Luthor. Who this new man was Batman could not even begin to understand, but he knew that this man was not his Lex. It was an impostor, a liar. He was merely occupying the shell that he old Lex had left behind.

The deaths in Gotham were nothing if not extremely public. Each member of the jury that decided Lex's fate were underneath the police's protection, ushered out of the city as soon as possible to other cities, states, perhaps even countries if they had family there. Batman did not think that moving the jurors away from the scenes of death would really make that much of a difference. Lex was stubborn, perhaps more stubborn than Batman himself, and would find a way to get to his prey. And the Joker... the Joker was far more clever and devious than anyone wanted to give him credit for. If he wanted to kill a man, he would.

The public was screaming, demanding to know why Batman had not apprehended the culprit yet. Truth of the matter was, although he had found Lex, the Joker remained conveniently out of site. The Joker did not visit the house much and if it did it was at a time when Batman and his cameras could not be watching. Wherever he hid, he hid well. The clown knew that Gotham's Dark Knight was searching for him. He had to know. It was precisely what he wanted.

Tonight, however, Batman had his suspicions. He had tracked a few careless Joker goons to the warehouse upon which he presently perched. Tonight was going to be the night that he captured both Joker and Lex, the night that he stopped the murders and return Gotham to the state of peace that it had maintained before the birth of the Joker and the breaking of Lex Luthor.

All he had to do was wait. Allow the darkness to swallow him whole and lurk in the shadows. It was only a matter of time before one of his targets would return to the warehouse. His heartbeat kept the time as he slide across the rooftop, searching for the perfect broken window to slip through. His heart did not skip as he peered through the broken glass only to see a collection of Joker goons in clown masks and makeup guarding a group of hostages, automatic rifles in their hands. Even from his height the Batman could see that these hostages were not just ordinary John and Jane Does that they had plucked off of the street.

These were the remaining jurors and judge that had sentenced Lex to Arkham.

Joker had found them all.

"Well, considering that we're no where near a balcony I highly doubt that there's anything that you can really do to me, Lexie."

If there was anything Lex had to thank his dad for it had to be for the ability to read between the lines people wrote. To acknowledge the unadulterated emotions that lingered unsteadily (perhaps unknowingly) behind the eyes of countless faces he had met within his lifetime. How did that priceless hallmark quote go again? Ut imago est animi voltus sic indices oculi. At least, that was the way his father put it: the face is a picture of the mind as the eyes are its interpreter. The man had a way with words and fortunately in this case, there was truth in his logic.

The Joker no matter how much he enjoyed denying it, wore his emotions right in the depths of his fraudulent green eyes. It brought immense satisfaction to Lex to see the man's pupils twitch with a flicker of discontent admit his calculated disposition. A peculiar accomplishment that granted him a sensation far more captivating than Morgan's death or any other juror's had offered. He liked this sudden position of power however momentary it was. As fast as it appeared the faint glimmer of expression disappeared and the Joker was seemingly back on his game as he pulled away from Lex's hands.

"Don't be so certain, kid." Lex gestured with a slender eyebrow and watched bemusedly as the Joker put a good amount of space between them.

He was raging with power-- adrenaline-- from the deathly combination of drugs and the brief glimpse of the Joker's fallen disposition. From the moment he had stepped into the house and the weeks that led to this moment, he had felt dead despite the drugs and the Joker's murderous rage. It was almost tragic. Each and every death was supposed to bring him one step closer to power. Or at least, somewhere close to living again but he realized now that their petty deaths were ultimately meaningless to him. It seemed to be anyway and he was no longer certain if he was walking the same fine line as the Joker.

Especially now as he stared eye to eye with the clown-faced man. Lex had expected some kind of result to this experiment but with days fluttering past him, he was losing faith in the Joker and his beloved tricks.

"Lexie, it sounds to me that you just need to get a little more hands on experience with your... victims. I think that I have just the remedy for your particular malady. Why don't we take a little trip down to the warehouse, hm? I have a wonderful surprise for you. you know, for being such a fantastic business partner." A brief pause while the man smiled and took Lex's hand to which the young bald man sneered. "I promise, you won't be able to contain yourself when you see what I have up my sleeves."

Perhaps if it was not for the Joker's boyish charms or his own desperate need to feel, Lex would have done away with the Joker. Or perhaps not. It was difficult to say. He knew for certain that he felt obligated to see what the Joker had in store for him. Whatever was locked away in the warehouse. He could only imagine.

"Fine."
___________________________________________________________________________

Was it stupid that he had contemplated taking Bruce's Lamborghini meet the Joker and despite acknowledging the stupidity and risks it may cause decided to take it anyway? It no longer held Bruce's scent much to Lex's displeasure though there was still great novelty to driving it. It still contained however subtle and faint at this point Bruce's essence. Of course that could easily be due to the fact that it was Bruce's favorite amidst the vast fleet of vehicles he had stored in his garage at the mansion and within his private storage somewhere in Gotham's warehouse district.

Bruce.

Fuck.

He parked the expensive car around the back of the warehouse. Removing the keys from the ignition he took a moment to look into the review mirror. God, how long has it been since he had seen his reflection? Days. Weeks even. Perhaps a month. When did the circles beneath his eyes get so dark and his eyes so red? He pressed the tips of his fingers against his eyelids and tried to will away the obvious sign of exhaustion. It was no use. His hands dropped into his lap and he continued to gaze at his own image.

Bruce was not an easy man to forget. No amount of drugs or alcohol could drown his image from Lex's mind. Unlike his mother, who's distant memory was becoming too easy to let go, Bruce was simply a constant reminder of his failures. Of all that he had once possessed only to lose. And perhaps that in itself should have been enough to drive Lex forward and find satisfaction in all the jury members deaths.

All of it had brought him nothing. Nothing but a sudden sharp pain in the cavity of chest, below his sternum where his heart pitifully existed. His breathing hiked and he could not deny the warmth that was beginning to build behind his eyes. Lex quickly pressed the thick thumb muscles in his hand against his eyes trying to banish them. His shaky breath followed him as he pressed his head against the Lamborghini's headrest.

He needed to pull it together. The fact was: he brought it to himself. Everything and nothing that he felt. All the misery, pain and subsequent feeling of failure. He threw his fist against the dashboard
.
"FUCK!" His voice raged though was lost to the bitter sobs escaping him. "Fuck."

There was nothing more to lose. He had long lost Bruce's love. What more had he to live for but to humor the Joker's conquests? By now, all of Gotham must suspect his hand in all of the murders plaguing Gotham. He had been so absent from the spotlight, how could they not assume the worst of him?

After all, it was the truth.
____________________________________________________________________________

The Joker seemed quite at home in the warehouse. His men equally hidden behind similar clown faces occupied the room with their automatic rifles in hand. He was not exactly surprise to see what looked to be the remaining jurors and judge securely tied in chairs situated behind these tall, broad shouldered men. The clown thought he should feel the weight of their deaths with his own hands, but as he stood before the Joker's goons, staring at the men and women's faceless bodies (their head was hidden beneath black hoods), Lex felt a mixture of revolt and.. and.. power, was it? A feeling of elation flooded his chest as he pushed past the guards to take a closer look.
Their screams were muffled by a thick piece of cloth taped into their mouths. He recognized them all. Even with their faces obscured by the hoods, he recognized every single individual tied to their chairs. The Judge who's rotund form leaked over the side of the chair. Lex immediately approached his body and grabbed the lapels of his coat.

"It was self defense! WHY COULDN'T YOU SEE THAT?!" He yelled to his face. "I lost everything because of you. ALL OF YOU!"

Bruce's love.

His beloved company.

All his dreams.. gone.

Never again would he feel the safety of Bruce's arms nor the warmth of his lips.

"JOKER!"

Alexander Joseph Luthor. Born late September on a cool autumn day in Metropolis to Lionel and Lillian Luthor. Older brother to Julian Luthor, a child that died in infancy. Lost his full head of red hair at the age of ten during a routine trip to Smallville, Kansas during a freak meteor shower. Lost his mother to cancer at the age of twelve. Placed into an accelerated program at Excelsior Preparatory Academy at the age of thirteen after a one year residence at a mental asylum by the name of Bellereve. While at Excelsior Prep he met a young man four years his senior with whom he fell deeply in love and continued to maintain an on-and-off again relationship for the next ten years. At the age of twenty-four Alexander Joseph Luthor murdered his father while in a state of mental distress and once again found himself in a mental asylum. After his leave he stayed with his long-time lover, Bruce Allen Wayne. Enlisted the assistance of a "Joker," true identity unknown, to kill the jurors and judge that presided at his trial. Currently stood in a warehouse screaming at those jurors who still had their lives. He wanted revenge.

Joseph Oliver Kerr. Born late May during a rare spring shower in the back alley behind a burger joint in Gotham, next to the dumpster, to Jack Kerr and Theresa Payne. Only child. Lost his ability to frown at the age of eleven when his drunken father cut the corners of his mouth, leaving him permanently scarred and smiling. Left home at age fourteen of his own free will and never returned, preferring the predictability of the streets to the insanity within his parents' home. Lived in a stolen car until it was in the process of being towed away in front of Wayne Enterprises. Engaged in a romance with owner Bruce Allen Wayne until his attempt to murder Alexander Joseph Luthor by cutting the brakes in the billionaire's prized Porsche. Allowed to get away until his attempted to blow up a LuthorCorp factory, after which it was deemed that he was mentally unstable and he made his first trip to Arkham Asylum, alias "The Joker." Followed a path of murder and chaos. Met Alexander Joseph Luthor in Arkham and manipulated his fragile mind. Currently stood in a warehouse, watching Alexander Joseph Luthor screaming at those jurors who still had their lives. He wanted chaos.

These were the two men, above all others, to whom Bruce had given everything. His love and affection, his time and energy, his trust, himself. Everything that he could allow himself to give to another human being he gave to the two men standing beneath him, one yelling as the other laughed at the poor terrified captives tied to the chairs. Batman clenched his fists and felt his heart skip a beat as his two former lovers sent terrors up each of the captives' arms. How did things get this way? How had he been so blind to see that both Lex and Joey were far more disturbed than perhaps anyone could have guessed? He should have been able to see their malfunctions, he should have been able to predict every single move ten moves before it happened. He had been so blinded by... what? His love? His idealism? His dick? As he stared down at the collection of people beneath him he found it nearly impossible to decipher what had pulled the wool over his eyes.

"It was self defense! WHY COULDN'T YOU SEE THAT?! I lost everything because of you. ALL OF YOU!"

Lex's face was beet red. Even from a few dozen feet up Batman could see the spittle fly from Lex's mouth and land on the covered face of Judge Stenson. Lex was no longer Lex. Although Batman had known this for a long while now, it was made official with his words. Batman wondered what it was that Lex was referring to, what it was that he had lost as his gloved fingers made their way to his utility belt and pulled a Batarang into his grasp. Was it LuthorCorp that he was talking about? His life? His reputation? It had to be something symbolic, something that was not concrete, for all of Lex's material possessions, all of his money and things had been waiting for him when he came home. Everything had been waiting for him. Bruce had been waiting.

Batman pulled back his arm and let the Batarang fly. It zoomed past the heads of numerous masked gunmen, making them gasp as the sharp blades nicked their cheeks. The Batarang found its target in Lex's hand, the hand that was currently reaching out toward the judge, perhaps going for his throat. It didn't matter. And it did not matter that Batman had made himself known by throwing the Batarang. Subtlety was not going to work this time. Batman wanted Lex and Joker to know that he was well aware of their presence, wanted them to know that no matter where they were they were never going to escape his glare. Batman would always be just two steps behind, lurking in the shadows, waiting.

"The only thing that you've lost, Luthor, is your fucking mind," Batman bellowed, his gruff voice covering the morbid assembly like a dark blanket. "Come on, Lex. Why don't I take you home. I'm sure that the doctors at Arkham miss you dearly. You too, Joker. It'll be a genuinely unpleasant reunion." It pained Batman to speak like this to the one man that he truly wanted to spend the rest of his life with... once upon a time. The Lex Luthor that he knew was dead. This creature in front of him, well, he was just a product of one of Joker's horrendously successful experiments.

"Oh, it's Bats! My favorite flying rat decided to drop by! I simply cannot express to you how much I am just bursting with pleasure at the thought of you being here with us." As Joker spoke he placed his gloved hand on his crotch, rubbing himself suggestively as he stared up into the rafters. "Why don't you come down and join the party, Bats? You know how difficult it is for us to have fun without you."

"Quite, Joker. Tonight is going to be your last night as a free man so I suggest that you choose what you say very carefully." Batman swung down from the rafters on top of a group of gunmen and let his limbs do what they knew. He could feel his knuckles crack against a jaw or two, his leg sweep beneath a number of legs, almost too many to keep track. His arms and legs moved in a set, one that he had performed many times before. It wasn't long before Joker's little cronies were either out cold on the floor or running away in fear. Only Joker and Lex were left standing unharmed in one way or another.

"Oh Batty, don't you realize just how excited it gets me to see you work those muscles of yours?" Joker chuckled, licking his fingers suggestively as Batman stomped toward the two men.

"Make it easy for yourself, scum bags. Come with me to Arkham."

Joker pouted and shook his head, his obnoxiously red lips pursed as he spoke. "Oh, Batty baby, I'm sorry to have to break this to you but that sounds so dreadfully boring. If we're going to go anywhere we might as well make it a party, right? I run and you follow. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll catch me and we can have even more fun." Joker giggled manically as he made a beeline towards a set of metal stairs, perhaps heading for the roof. Batman watched on the edge of his toes, ready to chase as far as he needed to catch the lithe freak, but something was holding him back. Lex hadn't moved yet and unfortunately for Gotham, Batman could not help but allow his heart to get in the way of his duties.

"Come with me, Lex. Please." All he could do was beseech and hope that Lex, even in the depths of his madness, could see the benefits in going with Batman, with Bruce, instead of following Joker's trail of mayhem.

"In a few moments the police will be here. They've been looking for you. The smartest thing that you can do right now is step back and come with me. Please, Alexander, make the right decision."

He was consciously making the decision to let Joker make an escape once again, simply to save Lex. How much more of his life, how many more lives would Batman risk, just to save one? He had to seriously wonder whether it was even worth it anymore.

Beneath his slender hands, he could feel the man’s perspiration through his tailored clothing. His fingers ran over the fine fabric stretched tightly over the man’s chest and through his nostrils the Judge’s musky scent infiltrated his senses, overwhelming and thick with panic. Far from his polished wooden throne, the all mighty, all knowing Judge was nothing more than a pitiful man. A man shivering in fear to his very bones. Lex could feel it.. Could feel every trace of it beneath his fingertips and while he enjoyed it, there was something... missing. Something lacking from not the Judge specifically nor the rest of the jurors comfortably seated next to him but from the scene around him though Lex could not place his finger on what exactly. He was beginning to drive irritate him regardless.

Yet as his fingers danced across the expanse of the man’s chest, slowly making their way to his exposed throat, Lex watched almost as if in stop-time theatrics as a familiar black shadow swooped across the bottom of his sights and painfully cut into his left hand, immediately forcing him to quickly withdraw his hands from the Judge.

“Fuck!” The young man hissed as the thin though deadly sharp weapon dug deep into the side of his hand. He should have guessed. The edges of his rosy lips twitched with something close to excitement or perhaps dismay as he pulled the Bat’s little toy from his hand. His head whipped to the left as his pale eyes scanned the darkness above them looking for the familiar faint outline. “Well I’ll be damned.”

"The only thing that you've lost, Luthor, is your fucking mind. Come on, Lex. Why don't I take you home. I'm sure that the doctors at Arkham miss you dearly. You too, Joker. It'll be a genuinely unpleasant reunion."

Spoken to like a true criminal. It hurt to hear the Bat address him as much but could he really expect anything else from Bruce? At this point in his life, he was truly nothing more than a criminal.. A murderer... a true devil like his father and in some distorted, twisted regards to everything, it was oddly comforting to receive a sort of “confirmation” that Bruce finally saw Lex for what– who – he was. A true acknowledgment that he had and would never again feel nor acquire Bruce’s love. After all, the man existed on a level or morals and ethics and Lex had long ago broken the lines of his (once and frankly, never again) lover’s existence. He sought no forgiveness from Bruce (how could he?), but did manage to acquire the only thing that continually plagued his mind while he haunted the bowels of hell: had Lex truly and entirely lost the man he had given his... his heart and soul; his life and conviction?

The answer was so clear to him now. It could hardly be mistaken.

"Oh, it's Bats! My favorite flying rat decided to drop by! I simply cannot express to you how much I am just bursting with pleasure at the thought of you being here with us. Why don't you come down and join the party, Bats? You know how difficult it is for us to have fun without you."

The Joker’s voice lingered next to him. That unmistakable delirium that had enraptured Lex with the tantalizing promises it held within it’s high pitched presentation, echoed in the vast depths of the warehouse. Condemning, almost.

"Quite, Joker. Tonight is going to be your last night as a free man so I suggest that you choose what you say very carefully."

He spoke not a word during their little exchange. A playful matter that made Lex wonder if Bruce realized just how much the Joker found their games simply arousing. It was in that very same instant that Bruce gracefully sprung from the rafters landing amongst the throng of masked and painted men, limbs flailing in a glorious display of mastered discipline. In all essence, it would have been an opportune time to make his own getaway but Lex found himself unable to move– incapable of tearing his eyes away from the skilled spins and well placed kicks that Bruce landed, knocking out one after another of the Joker’s goons. When all was said and done (the last couple of men had quickly fled into the shadows around them), the Bat rose from the massive pile of incapacitated men, his black cap flowed gracefully around his broad frame.

Lex stood transfixed by the image of him.

"Oh Batty, don't you realize just how excited it gets me to see you work those muscles of yours?"

Oh, did he know the muscle beneath the thick neoprene layer well. Had spent countless hours admiring the smooth muscles beneath his hands, treasuring the warmth that emitted from Bruce’s hard body...

"Make it easy for yourself, scum bags. Come with me to Arkham."

Scum bags.. Right. He had lost himself to his thoughts. A terrible thing to do when you had Gotham’s savior– it’s precious Dark Knight – staring into your eyes. Straight into the depths of your soul. If you still had one that is.

“Oh, Batty baby, I'm sorry to have to break this to you but that sounds so dreadfully boring. If we're going to go anywhere we might as well make it a party, right? I run and you follow. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll catch me and we can have even more fun."

For the first time since Batman’s appearance, Lex’s eyes fell over the Joker. Watching him as he disappeared up the metal stairs in a furry of laughter and the faint clicks of his shoes against the cold metallic surface. It was then he quickly realized that the Joker had left him to deal with the Bat on his own. Go figure.

"Come with me, Lex. Please.”

What? On the tip of his tongue had rested a trail of sardonic remarks to fire at the Batman but in only just a few words, the broad shouldered man had extinguished them all before he had a chance to revolt. Lex bit down on his tongue and turned his eyes away from the other man.

“Is this Bruce speaking or the Bat?” Lex quietly asked. “I find it hard to distinguish to the two.”

"In a few moments the police will be here. They've been looking for you. The smartest thing that you can do right now is step back and come with me. Please, Alexander, make the right decision."

“Why are you doing this?” He turned his eyes back to Bruce. What game was Bruce– err, Batman – playing at? Trying to lure the young bald man in with petty tricks of the heart. Well, whatever remains of his heart was long shattered in the recesses of Arkham. “Don’t you understand, Bruce? I no long have a choice. Perhaps at the beginning– at the start of it all, I did and foolishly wasted it away thinking that you had actually lov– cared. I am nothing more than your charity case and I realize that now. Look at you Bruce–“

Lex gestured towards the man costume. He approached his once beloved companion and rested the palm of his wounded hand against Bruce’s chest. The man’s heart was faint beneath his hand. At one point in their relationship, Lex had truly and utterly believed things would work. That they had worked. And perhaps they truly had. It was just a memory now. Of love and lost. Of sorrow and defeat. Even now as he stood before Bruce, he understood what he had done and perhaps it was the bitter taste of defeat that forced him to acknowledge it (though that could have easily been the remnants of his cocaine spree), that there was no way out. Whether he left with Bruce or his own accord, the destination was all the same and he could not live with that. Knowing that he fucked it all up in a maniac delirium that had led him to believe HE was right. That the Joker was right.. Bruce couldn’t love him.

“Bruce Wayne– Batman cannot love a murderer.” Lex whispered resting his head against Bruce’s chest, watching his fingers trace the bat inlay on the man’s chest. “I am truly sorry, Bruce but I can’t live with the all the decisions anymore.”

He pressed his thin lips against Bruce’s but as he did so, his hand reached around the man’s body wrapping around the grapple gun tucked away in his belt. The heat began to build behind his eyes, refusing to succumb to it, he quickly pulled the gun from Bruce’s belt and slammed it as hard as he could against the side of the man’s head. He could feel the Bat’s knees give out and Lex released him from his grasp, pointing the grapple gun toward the rafters above them.

“Goodbye, Bruce.” Batman. Whatever the man behind the mask would become. The gun quickly latched onto one of the thick T-bars above and unceremoniously lifted him from the ground. It was almost like flying. Almost. In his opinion, that was an unfortunate aspect to it considering that he hated heights.

He nearly slammed against the thick metal bar and only barely caught himself, wrapping his arms around it. Slowly with precise movements, he lifted himself onto the bar, following it up further into the maze of rafters above until he reached an open window. Lex slowly eased himself through the narrow opening nearly falling out when his pant leg caught a nail. Luckily he caught himself on the fire escape and used that to reach the top of the building.

All of Gotham spread out before him. Arkham laid just beyond the horizon behind him as he peaked over his shoulder at it. It lingered lazily on the black sea, the moon barely gazed over Arkham’s tallest tower. Never again. He could not do it.

He took a moment to pace across the roof, his fine Italian shoes scrapped against the gravel. It would only be a matter of time until Bruce found his way to the roof, ready to take him to Arkham unless.. Unless Lex could find a way to escape. A way to get himself out of his thick situation. Gazing around th roof he saw... nothing. Nothing but.. Lex timidly made his way to the edge of the roof. There was nothing but the black sky around him and the gentle light of the moon above.

Lex closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“You're destined for much greater things, Lex. I am as well. Batman is destined to do so much more, but I cannot do that without you by my side...”

“You’re mummy’s sweetest prince, Lex...”

“...daddy’s little soldier...”

Their voices echoed in his head striking memories to flicker in the back of his mind. Memories better left forgotten. He lifted his arms at his side, rotated his body so that this back faced Gotham and his face bared witness to the moon as he stepped off the edge of the roof.

Before Batman had even finished his plea he knew that his words were falling upon deaf ears. Lex was not listening to him, as should have been expected. Perhaps deep down Batman knew that Lex would not listen, he had not listened for months and would not suddenly change just because he was asked to by a man dressed like a motherfucking bat. There was nothing left to be done, something that Batman should have realized a very long time ago but refused to believe on the quixotic belief that love would conquer all.

Love conquered absolutely nothing.

“Bruce Wayne– Batman cannot love a murderer.” Batman could feel the oxygen freeze inside of his lungs as he watched Lex rest his smooth head on top of him. It had been so long since he had been so close to Lex, so long since he had smelled the sweet, spicy scent of Lex's skin. So fucking long since Lex had spoken to him in that soft, apologetic voice.

“I am truly sorry, Bruce but I can’t live with the all the decisions anymore.”

Batman growled in frustration, forgetting for a moment that he was wearing his cowl as he reached up to tug at his unreachable soft black locks. "Lex, how could you be so fucking dense? I've always loved you, I've always--"

But whatever Batman "always" did was completely cut off by Lex's kiss, the taste of his lips still as sweet as Batman remembered. There was a faint saltiness to Lex's kiss, but not a saltiness caused by the consumption of food. More like the remnants of dried tears on Lex's lips, as if he had been crying earlier but had never completely wiped away the evidence of his pain. Although he should have known better, Batman allowed himself to be drawn in to Lex's ploy, allowed himself to fall victim's to Lex's final goodbye. For that one second that Lex was pressed against him Batman cared not whether Lex's kiss was genuine, he merely reveled in the fact that Lex was even there.

He groaned as Lex slammed the grappling hook against his head. His knees buckled and although he was too dazed to register the feeling of his legs slamming against the hard floor of the warehouse he could certainly hear the deafening thud, even through his foggy conscience. A few moments of black flashed before his eyes, leaving Batman feeling extremely disorientated. After the mini black outs subsided, Batman stood up, ignoring the ringing in his head as he followed Lex up to the top of the warehouse. He could hear the police sirens pulling up to the warehouse now; Gotham's finest would take care of the hostages and the unconscious Joker goons on the floor. Batman did not care about them. The only thing that mattered to him was getting to Lex.

Despite the warehouse's height it did not seem to take long for the Dark Knight to scale the metal stairs and reach the roof. Perhaps it seemed to take such a short amount of time due to Batman's lack of concentration on each and every metal step and more about the words--fake or otherwise--that had left Lex's lips just moments earlier. Bruce Wayne could not love a murderer... that seemed to be the main message behind Lex's rejection. He could not go back because, in Lex's mind, there was nothing to which he could return. His past was nothing more than a distant dream that had slipped through his fingertips like sand. After trying to regain his hold for so long Lex had simply given up.

Batman pushed through the door to the roof and let his eyes scan his surroundings. Lex was nowhere to be found but another, less desirable character had forced his way into Batman's line of vision and did not seem to want to move.

"Fuck, Joker, I don't care about you right now!" Batman screamed, frustrated that once again Joker was standing in his way. The former Joey Kerr had to already know that he had won, he had corrupted Batman's precious Lex and destroyed every ounce of his being. Lex was broken and vulnerable and Joker had taken advantage of the opportunity placed in front of him, something that Batman had always known Joker was very adept in.

As Batman glared at Joker he noticed something very odd. Joker was not smiling. Oh yes, the painted red scars on his mouth were still pointing toward the sky, giving off that sense of a smile that never stopped, but Batman had spent far too much time with the insane scarred beauty to not know the difference between Joker's real smile and his carved one.

"You know, you never had the decency to tell me about your little secret, Brucie," Joker snarled, his lips curling around the words and spitting them out as if they were poison. "Was I not good enough to know? Was it not on your fucking agenda to spill the beans about your nighttime activities?"

Batman furrowed his brow underneath that intimidating cowl and stared with dead eyes at Joker's infuriated face. "No, it wasn't. You weren't worth it. I figured someone with your intellectual capacity would have managed to come to that conclusion by now. Now please, get out of my way." Batman did not give a fuck that Joker knew the truth about who he was during the day. Joker was insane, Joker was homicidal, Joker had no sense of morality or ethics or rules. Joker was a criminal, yes, but he wasn't a criminal who wanted to destroy his enemy. He was a criminal who wanted to test his enemy. Without Batman, Joker had no purpose, Joker had no drive. Without Batman, Joker had no reason to exist. He was born from Bruce's neglect and fed on Batman's attention. The last thing that Joker truly wanted to do was out his favorite obsession.

Joker's pasty white nostrils flared. His green hair fell like clumps of wet grass in front of his eyes and made him look like a drowning weed. "You're a deluded fool who knows nothing about how the world truly works!" Joker screamed, pointing his gloved hand into Batman's face. "Your desperate obsessive-compulsive need for order will be your demise. You fool everyone, including yourself, into thinking that you are sane, that you are the one member of Gotham's population that can save this stinking, rotting corpse of a city without realizing that you are nothing more than a muscled up pariah with a few gadgets. You think that your precious little toys will save Gotham, Bats? You think that they'll save you?" A cackle erupted from Joker that turned his mouth into a gaping black hole, sucking in any sense of sanity or logic and demolishing it completely.

Batman shot out a hand to grab the clown's throat but was surprised by the small man's shockingly good reflexes; Joker moved out of Batman's way, leaving the Dark Knight's fingers to touch nothing but the edge of Joker's purple coat. "Catch me if you can, Batty! I need a good chaser after this dreadful event." Batman watched as Joker bounded across the roof and leaped over the edge of the building, but it wasn't this offensive display of rashness that made Batman's eyes go wide. Just a few feet from where Joker had jumped Lex now stood, his body swaying with the icy wind and his toes dangling over the edge of the building. His weight was steadily shifting, but certainly not in the direction that Batman wanted it to go.

Whether it was luck or sheer force of will, something brought Batman to the edge of that building just as Lex let his footing slip. Batman's strong fingers wrapped around Lex's skeletal wrist and let him hang. He let him hang there, stories upon stories over the cold black ground. Slightly unwilling to pull him up and completely unwilling to let him go. Finally, after a long moment that could have been frozen in time, with nothing but the police sirens in the background to accentuate Batman's words, the dark man spoke, his voice a chilling growl.

"I could let you die, Lex. I could let go of you and let you plummet to the ground. I could give peace to all of the family members to those men and women you killed, give them a reason to believe that karma does exist and criminals get their just rewards. But some sad, pathetic sliver of my heart, the part that remembers what a wonderful and beautiful human being you used to be will not allow me to do that. The part of my heart that still remembers the perfect thirteen year old boy I met at Excelsior will not allow me to let go." Batman closed his eyes and pulled Lex up over the edge of the rooftop and jerked him close, giving himself one last opportunity to revel in the smell of Lex's skin. Never again.

"G'night, Lex," Batman whispered into the young man's ear. He brought his fist up against the side of Lex's skull, knocking him to the ground and watching as Lex fell unconscious and victim to what was sure to be a series of nightmares. Batman gathered Lex's limp body and cradled him close. Taking careful measures to avoid any and all police, Batman made a beeline toward the Batmobile, carrying Lex's limp body over his shoulder. Batman did not want Lex to go to the police station. Arrest, another trial, another chance at life completely lost. Lex would have to go back to Arkham where the doctors, as awful as some were, could continue treating him. Perhaps it was Arkham that had helped drive Lex to insanity in the first place, but Batman truly believed that it was the only place that could cure him. At least in Arkham, Lex would eventually have the chance to start over again... Not so at Blackgate. Prison was no place for someone as fragile as Lex...

...as broken as Lex...

...as deluded as Lex...

...as lost as Lex...

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When Lex woke up, he would be confined to a white coat. He would not be able to move his arms and all he would be able to see was white. The walls, the ceiling, the crisp, starched sheets on the bed in the corner. He would spend the next few years, forgetting what colors were, forgetting that anything existed other than white. His world would be nothing but an empty void. But he deserved nothing else.

"Thank you for bringing him here, Batman." The pretty red-headed doctor looked like she was trembling as she stood with the Dark Knight. Her eyes kept jutting back and forth from the imposing black figure before her to the broken man passed out in the locked room. She mumbled something about everything being "too soon," but Batman, even with his heightened sense of hearing, could not be bothered to pay attention to her words. All he could do was stare, separate himself from the creature that was now doomed to be locked away for a very long time. After everything that happened, everything that Batman had seen and felt and everything that he now knew, all he could do was clench his jaw and force himself to feel nothing.

The doctor was still speaking, rambling about something, but Batman did not have the time to spend to speak with her about things that he did not want to think about. Joker was still out on Gotham's streets, being a menace, amassing another Joker Army to bring Gotham to its knees. There was not any time to spend talking.

"I must go," Batman said sharply, causing the doctor to halt her speech. She nodded and stepped back, her hand vaguely waving toward the door. Batman nodded to her and moved quickly from the room, his long cape sweeping out behind him. He could feel his chest tighten underneath the neoprene suit and his eyes start to go foggy. Sweat was welling up underneath his cowl and his body felt weak. He was tired and broken and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep, lie in his empty bed and let his dreams wash away reality.

But he couldn't. Despite his personal heartbreak he still had a job to do. He was still Batman. It did not matter that he had just committed his lover to an insane asylum, that it would be years, maybe decades before Lex would even be considered for release.

The cold air bit at his lips and reminded him of what he was going to miss. He swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes against the burning. He needed to get off of Arkham Island. The Batmobile was waiting for him to leave. Joker was waiting for him to fight.

Gotham was waiting to be saved.