The rain continues to fall under Earth's gravity, merging with more liquid on the ground, with a sound like applause near the ear, or the roar of pearls hitting the floor.
The Joker laughs hysterically beside Batman, rubbing his head with the barrel of the gun, squinting his eyes comfortably as if relieved from an itch.
"Why so serious? Isn't it nice to have a laugh?"
He wants to see Batman go mad.
Yet how could Batman laugh, his heart had died along with Selena, his brain almost halted, with the past and present infinitely overlapping, he was immersed in his own darkness.
The Joker thrusts his head between Batman and Catwoman's faces, eyes wide as he looks at Batman, holding the revolver like a servant, cautiously:
"Do you still recognize this gun? This is the very same one that killed your parents back then. I went to great lengths to get it, and today your fiancée died under the same weapon, happy? Ah? Hahaha....."
But Batman's pupils are dilated, heavily injured and affected by Joker's new laughing gas, followed by a special dose of morphine injected by Joker, quick to relieve pain yet having a mysterious lingering effect.
Now he is completely trapped in a hallucinatory world, seeing only deceased family members surrounding him and laughing, besides a vivid yet bizarre scene in front of him.
A bat flies past him, yet he hears it mutter to itself quickly.
"Oh dear, oh dear, I'm too late."
It said so, flapping wings while pulling out a pocket watch from its little vest to check.
Why would a bat wear clothes and carry a watch? Batman is very curious.
He jumps up to chase the bat, but it doesn't stop at all, flying straight into a rabbit hole under a big tree not far away.
Following the black trajectory in the air, he quickly lies down to look into the dark hole, and inside it is pitch black, only the sound of: 'Hehehehehe...'
Such laughter.
In the darkness, there seems to be a door painted with a smiley face, without a lock, seemingly easy to push open.
He finds himself smaller, or rather the small hole has grown larger, as he stands before the door, from behind it came light, cheerful laughter, like a paradise.
Two voices in his heart began to argue.
"Go in, it is a beautiful world, without pain and without darkness."
"Quickly turn back, Gotham still needs you, the world needs Batman."
But the voice urging him to leave grows fainter and more ethereal, as his hand uncontrollably rests on the door panel.
......
The Joker purses his lips, Batman doesn't respond, this isn't fun at all.
He wants Batman to hit him, hit him where it hurts the most, to make him feel pain, of course, he mostly wants Batman to kill him.
Upon meeting, the Joker did say he was here to help, one of the few true statements.
It's just that his way of helping is hard for others to understand.
He pulls Catwoman's corpse out of Batman's embrace, tossing it into the puddle beside, while Batman remains kneeling, hands clutching air.
The Joker's eyes dart, clearing his throat, he smooths his hair with the rain, making those crunchy curls appear more subdued.
He feigns modesty as if accepting an invitation, slips into the gap in his embrace, lying comfortably in Batman's arms.
"Smile, Batman, come on smile, am I not funny? Ahahaha....."
Yet here, besides them, there's only heavy rain, now Batman has fallen into chaos, the entire stage has turned into a monologue.
The Joker rests his head on Batman's lap, closing his eyes comfortably, mischievously touching Batman's chest's big bat emblem, as if trying to take it off.
"There used to be an old lunatic called Nietzsche, he once said: 'He who fights with dragons too long will become a dragon, more powerful, more evil, yet more profound and more beautiful,' do you know him? he also said 'When you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes back,' remember?"
Batman: "....."
"I'm accustomed to handling all things and experiences with enthusiasm, happily and kindly accepting everything I encounter. But you, always so serious, always so indifferent, never taking a stand. My goodness! In many cases, you're too melancholic; you've become the remnants left after virtue sublimates!"
"...."
"If someone wants love and hatred from you, even if he tries his best, offering everything he can... but, do you feel it? Maybe, you just never show it! As if your love isn't deep, your hate isn't intense! The way you act insincerely, weakly in this respect, that's an issue."
"...."
"I wouldn't be surprised, for your love is unnatural, your hate is incomplete, hey, not speaking is a tough job, your endurance always carries a hint of ostentation, exaggeration, and pretense. Yet my sincerity is entirely shifted by your subjective judgment, do you feel it? Only at present, tranquil and serene like this, are you real and natural."
"...."
"Your soul that reflects everything but always finds itself dark, it doesn't know how to affirm, neither how to deny... they don't understand you, you never liked giving orders, nor wanted to bear so many responsibilities, you always live in that day in Crime Alley, just that, now the gun is in my hand."
The Joker was quite unruly, using the gun barrel to brush Catwoman's hair, while tracing the shape of the totem on Batman's chest with his finger.
He closed his eyes, a smile of intoxication spreading across his face. He said whatever he wanted, whether or not Batman heard it was of no concern to him.
It was unknown how long he lay there, but when the Joker opened his eyes, he saw Batman still staring at him motionlessly.
Raindrops fell from the pitch-black sky around him, growing larger, shattering upon his shoulders and head—the rain had a blood and chemical smell, which made it good rain.
The Joker kept count, firing four shots at Catwoman's corpse, leaving one last bullet in the revolver.
He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a military-grade morphine; without checking the quantity, he inserted it near Batman's wound.
Then he stuffed the revolver into Batman's hand, pressing the gun barrel against his own chest.
"Now I choose to hand it over to you." Seeing Batman appear half-awake, the Joker decided to push him further: "Kill me quick, yes, pull the trigger, kill me! Hahahahahahaha! It's me who accomplished you!"
If someone wakes up unexpectedly in a tense environment, they often jolt violently; Batman was no exception. He too was flesh and blood, and without willpower, he was at his most vulnerable.
"When you awaken from a dream, when Alice tries to catch Mr. Rabbit, your little finger will pull the trigger, yes, just like that, kill me, like the robber who killed your parents, the way I killed Catwoman, you can do it—it's easy."
And at that moment, the Joker would win, and Batman would become real.
Also, it was the Joker's battle plan; when he and Batman shared a body, the Laughing Bat stood no chance against them.
The Laughing Bat from the Dark Multiverse? What could it possibly count for before the new Laughing Bat of the Main World? Hahahahahahahahaha....
Upon finishing, he twisted his body, adjusting his position to allow the bullet to miss the ribs and crush his heart, letting the toxins in his blood and life release perfectly, absorbed by Batman.
He wanted to become a part of Batman.
Nevertheless, the Bat better act quickly; it's cold being drenched in the rain, and he dislikes getting wet—he could catch a cold.
Just as the Joker was humming a tune while waiting for Batman to wake, he saw the skin below the mask twitch.
Oh? Is it coming?
The Joker gleefully squinted his eyes, puffing out his chest.
"Boom! Bang!"
The gunshot rang out.
Yet the Joker wasn't hit; the gun had only one bullet—it wouldn't make two noises.
Batman's shot only hit his own leg, while the Joker was blasted away before Batman unconsciously clenched his fist.
His purple suit slid far on the ground, and his head seemed squished flat. Holding his head, he shakily stood up, just in time to see Harley retracting her golf-like pose.
Harley hoisted Dorothy onto her shoulder, sighing with slight disappointment: "Oh dear, a ground ball."
It turned out during the critical moment, Harley and others arrived in time; the Little Madman always appeared at the key place at the crucial time.
For her, speed wasn't necessary; just being punctual at the required time was.
She was always punctual.
The method of ambush at the end of the street was simple; she had Crush lift her, then threw her towards the entwined Batman and Joker.
Crush inherited Violent Wolf's strength, and Harley was very slim.
Though she appeared to be a teenager, easily lifting an adult and flinging like a cannonball seemed odd...
But that's Gotham.
Everything happening in this city can't be perceived with normal eyes.
Harley's regular gymnastics practice allowed her to adjust her posture mid-air and seize the right moment, like a flying trapeze artist in the circus—just basic skills.
As she flew over the Joker's head, she swung the big mallet. Dorothy was a softwood hammer; instead of killing, Harley preferred it to be an instrument; she loved the sound it made hitting someone's head: thump, thump, thump.
Thus Dorothy hurt but rarely killed.
If she intended to kill, she'd use bombs, guns, or poison. She wasn't Wonder Woman—why use cold weapons?
Therefore, like knocking a wedge from a beam, Harley whacked the Joker like a peg, straight flying out from Batman's embrace, sliding far on the rain-soaked ground.
This principle resembled Newton's cradle; Harley transferred force to the Joker through the mallet and stayed behind posing an abrupt stop, witnessing Batman shoot his own thigh.
Okay, that welcome was rather enthusiastic; Harley felt a bit embarrassed. But Bat's self-destructive habit wasn't new; she just stuck out her tongue licking her lips—Gotham surely was fun.
Just as well, Joker and Batman seemed done; now it seemed to be Harley's turn, oh~!