Chapter Text
It was Christmas time in full bloom. You couldn’t miss it with all of those colorful decorations hung on every building and around every streetlight in the city. Joyful carols were being played loudly in shopping malls, while laughing children dragged their parents from one shop to another, hunting for gifts to place under the Christmas tree. The air was filled with the sweet scent of hot chocolate along with the fresh aroma of peppermint and pine resin. Despite the winter cold turning breath to clouds of steam, the atmosphere was warm and people looked at each other with kindness, smiling when greeting friends and strangers on crowded pavements. Even criminals seemed to lay low, hiding in warehouses or returning to their families to give themselves a break, free from danger and fear. The key was ‘seemed to’.
Regular citizens of Gotham could persuade themselves that nothing bad can happen on Christmas Eve and that everybody would rather choose to spend that special time baking cookies for Santa or visiting relatives, decorating Christmas trees, or doing anything, literally anything nicer than risking getting arrested and stuck behind bars for the holidays. But Batman isn't a regular citizen. He's The Dark Knight, The World's Greatest Detective, The Defender of Gotham, and he knows better. (There was that one time when he didn't but that was an exception that only proved the rule.)
The criminal element of Gotham certainly wouldn’t miss any opportunity to spread chaos and panic, and every grand holiday and important anniversary (or, honestly, any big social event) provided exactly that. That was why Batman, or rather Bruce Wayne, was attending this year's Christmas Eve Party on the city square that included charity fundraising and the ceremony of lighting the enormously large tree which stood surrounded by giant, for sure empty, gift boxes. He was there to keep an eye on every suspicious person, and any indication that something wasn't right. He was there to protect his beloved city and her citizens. Yes, that was why, and the fact that this particular night was also the first Christmas Eve that Batman was planning to spend with his new family wasn't at all related to his willingness to accept an invitation, even though he already had plans.
After all, it wasn't like he didn't intend to return home. He had promised Dick he would eat dinner with him and Alfred and watch a dumb romantic comedy (which he didn’t even like, not even slightly) after. The homemade hot chocolate with marshmallows, cranberry cake, and an unhealthy amount of popcorn involved. It sounded nice in theory. Hell, it had to be nice, but...
He gained this new, small family only recently and he loved this adorable kid (how could he not?), and he loved his butler, who was like a father to him, but still... it was new. He cared about them more than he liked to admit out loud and he was so scared of losing them that he almost lost them for real because of his actions. It is well known that Christmas is that special time which is supposed to be spent with close friends and family, and every winter, every Christmas Eve in the giant, empty manor reminded Bruce of his parent's absence. He didn't want Alfred to see him, again and again, mourning their death so he always offered him a few days off and a stay in some fancy hotel on the west coast. And every time his offer was met with polite but definite rejection.
This winter there wouldn't be just Alfred but also Dick, and Barbara was visiting them too, along with her father – ex-commissioner of GCPD, the famous Jim Gordon – and that was three more people to see him hurt and pathetic. And Batman can't be pathetic. He is cool, handsome, strong and the best at everything, and he will stay that way. So, the longer he was at the party, the fewer hours he was going to spend pretending in front of his loved ones, and that was why... No. He wasn't hiding from them, because hiding means fear and Batman fears nothing, so no. He was at the party to protect his city and that was his only reason.
A reason which turned out to be justified as soon he heard the laughter.
Not just any laughter. The laughter. Slightly less manic, quieter, and softer than usual, but definitely recognizable. There was no option to be mistaken, at least not if you were Batman because Batman heard this sound more times than anyone, and he knows it by heart.
The suit wasn't purple, but black and less flashy but still perfectly tailored, and a green shirt still visible under the vest sewn in shiny, purple strips. Brown hair (obviously a wig) fashionably combed back, fair skin with rosy cheeks (make-up for sure), and glittery green nail polish not covered by the usual ever-present gloves. The Joker stood there disguised, in the company of two young ladies in evening dresses, politely hiding his shark smile behind fingers. He looked like he was having fun. That couldn't mean anything good.
Immediately, Bruce excused himself from his own small circle of admirers, and in a few quick steps, he was right behind him with the intention to...
When the alerted criminal turned swiftly and those acid-green eyes met Bruce's, he stopped. Joker was looking at him with mild curiosity and still present smile. Just like any regular guest there might look at the famous billionaire, playboy, and owner of the biggest company in Gotham. He wasn't seeing Batman, but Bruce Wayne. And Bruce Wayne wasn't supposed to be able to recognize him.
Before Bruce could say any word of the (for sure) smooth and charming greeting, the lights above dimmed, and everyone's attention was caught by the mayor's voice.
“Excuse me.” She stood on the small podium in front of the giant tree, holding a microphone. “Everyone, thank you all for your attendance here, and all of your generosity in helping to found a new City Shelter for less fortunate citizens of our beloved Gotham.” The crowd responded with applause. “I know most of you are quite eager to return home to your parents, children, and loved ones to further celebrate this joyful evening, so I am not willing to keep you here long.” A few giggles and quiet comments of approval could be heard between the guests. “So now, the long-awaited event of this happy evening... Let the light shine!”
This time applause was louder and more cheerful, but when Bruce turned to look at Joker, the clown wasn't cheering. He was grinning with dangerous anticipation, looking at the big switch in the hands of the mayor. He was waiting for something to happen. Something that only he knew about.
Happy screams turned to fearful ones when the audience was suddenly covered by the thick cloud of smoke.
Alfred was sure to remind Bruce before every social event to leave all of Batman's weapons at home because there was nothing polite in bringing dangerous tech to anyone's party. But the smoke grenade wasn't technically a weapon, right? It was a distraction, and a good distraction was all that Bruce needed to disappear and for Batman to make his big entrance.
It took seconds for Batman to grab Joker by his waist and to make one perfect shot with his grappling gun. The clown was too surprised to resist and too light to be a problem when he was lifted in the air and, after the quick trip, he was pushed harshly onto the nearest building's roof. Far from the crowd of panicked citizens and safe. Or at least safely away from his potential victims.
The surprised and confused expression on the Joker's face spread a seed of doubt in Batman's thoughts, but as soon as those acid green eyes met crystal blue ones... There it was. The smile. All sharp teeth, madness, and admiration. And happiness. The honest one.
“Batsy!” Joker spread his long arms with the visible intent of getting a hug. “I knew you'd come!” His suspicious gesture of goodwill didn't get an answer and his arms fell to his sides. “... or I hoped you would?” His smile became less wide and more... No, definitely not innocent.
“What are you planning, Joker?” Where the Joker goes, trouble follows, and Batman was sure that his greatest enemy wasn't at the party just for free glasses of sparkling wine and ginger cake.
“Me?” The clown put a hand on his chest and tilted his head, faking surprise. “I was just genuinely enjoying a good party, like the rest of those fakely generous rich guys and girls, and theys, and gays. Chit-chatting, giggling, drinking, and eating those criminally small but, oh, so tasty treats!” He clenched his fist like an excited kid. “I even played dress-up!” Batman couldn't not notice that fact, but still, Joker swirled on his toes like a ballerina to show him this new attire of his. He looked proud of himself... And he looked good.
As soon as the last thought crossed Batman's mind, it was pushed away, and he crossed his arms. Being intimating. “What do you want?” It was always like that. All those games, happy talk, and wide smiles, the chaos and destruction. All because Joker wanted something.
“A compliment would be nice.” He giggled but when faced with a cold glare, his playfulness dimmed. Rashly, he tugged at his wig to throw it away, and once again, his vivid green curls surrounded his face. “It's so hot in that. Ugh... What I do for you...” He ruffled his hair, only to brush it backward again with his long fingers. “And not even one word of praise.” It sounded like he was talking to himself, not even looking at Batman.
“Joker...”
“Do you like Christmas?” The question came out of nowhere and took Batman by surprise. He didn't know what to answer but also didn't even get a chance to. “They seem to like it.” The clown took a few steps to the edge of the roof and was staring at the scene below.
Security had intervened, but since no one noticed any danger after smoke cleared, everyone slowly calmed down. The mayor stood on the podium with two police officers behind her back, and she was speaking calmly to the citizens, assuring safety.
“The decorations, loud carols, expensive presents, and clothes... The smiles, kindness, eagerness to help... What a nice atmosphere!” Joker’s hands grabbed the railing. “How much of that is fake, one could wonder...”
“ What did you do?” Batman was losing his patience.
Joker stood silent and just looked, ignoring him.
“J...”
Suddenly, the clown turned with a bright smile. And a hand in his jacket pocket.
“Just prepared a present. To fully feel that Christmas spirit! A present! Just. For. You!” The happy attitude looked honest, but...
A present. The presents . Placed under that giant tree. Supposedly empty.
The realization struck and Batman took a step, growling.
“Give me that.”
“That's not a very polite way to ask for a gift, you know?” Joker shook his head with disappointment, but when his greatest enemy took another step, he chuckled with amusement. “Ok, ok, here you have it. Geez. Don't say that I'm not...”
As soon as the clown's hand was out of pocket, Batman struck. The Dark Knight didn't wait for him to finish, nor did he give him the chance to press a button. The strong grip on Joker's wrist and the ‘present’ fell away to crash on the hard roof. But the sound of crashing wasn't one made by something plastic. It was the sound of shattering glass.
Surprised, Batman took a glance at the mess. At the shimmering shards of colorful, paper-thin glass. The Christmas tree bauble. Shattered.
“What...” He looked back at Joker with raised eyebrows that couldn’t be visible under the cowl. He didn't understand, and the clown...
The clown looked broken just like the bauble. Lips parted and quivering. Eyes wide and filled with tears. Hurt. Joker was hurt, and Batman was the one responsible for that. Again. He hurt him again, and not in the way they were used to hurting each other. No blood and bruises. No punches and laughter. Just tears ruining skillfully applied makeup, and a heavy feeling of blame.
“I'm so...”
“Don't!” Joker's voice was cold when he spoke and he freed himself from the grip. It was easy to do when Batman was too stunned to even hold him properly. “Just don't.”
“I'm sorry.” He spoke despite the clown's words, just to say something. To do something, anything, to fix what he broke.
Joker walked away but hearing the apology, he stopped and laughed. Not in the usual maniacal way and not with that occasional happiness that always surprises Batman and makes him suppress a small smile forming on his lips. This laughter was cold, sad. And when the clown turned, this time it was a real detonator in his hand.
It was only after Joker's back hit the roof and his lips were red once again with blood instead of lipstick that Batman realized what he was doing. Instinctively he did what he had to, to save everyone, to stop the explosion. But he was too late.
And the night sky was bright with colorful flowers of fireworks.
And the Joker, The Clown Prince of Crime, Batman's Greatest Enemy was crying. Giggling through tears.
Batman let go on the collar of Joker’s green shirt and slowly backed away. He sat down, kneeling, with Joker still laying on the roof, rubbing his face with hands and sleeves, wiping tears along with makeup. There was nothing Batman could do. He sucked when dealing with his own feelings, and he was even worse when dealing with the feelings of others. It was easy with anger. Not much was needed to be free of that, to use that anger in fights and control it. He liked it. But sadness? He didn't know what to do with that.
There was this one time Dick fell badly off some stairs during one of his chases as Robin, and the boy cried from pain but more because the bad guy escaped. The adorable idiot was blaming himself while his leg was broken and bloody. Batman had to calm him down before he could safely take him to the Batmobile, so he hugged him carefully, and told him how brave he was, how proud Batman was to have a son like him. It took a while but worked and they both returned to the manor, to be patched up and scolded by a worried Alfred.
But Batman couldn't just hug his greatest enemy like that. Could he?
While the hero sat there, confused and at the loss of what to do, Joker's laughter and crying became quieter and, after a while, he was just sobbing softly.
“It's not fair.” The clown's voice was hoarse and on the bridge of inaudibility. “It's just not freaking fair.”
After a moment of silence and a deep breath, the Joker's next words were still only a whisper but a clear one.
“Why can they all be happy but I can’t?” The sobbing stopped completely, and he removed his hands from his face. He was a mess. Milk-white skin was partially visible, eyeshadow and mascara smeared across the face, and bloody bruised lips. He was smiling, but painfully sad as if he had already given up and just found himself funny. “Why can they be there, enjoying Christmas and having a great time, and I can't? Why can't I even give someone a freaking present? It. Is. Not. Fair.”
“So it was...” Batman looked at the shards on the roof. If he just hadn’t...
“The World Greatest Detective in action...” The smile turned into a sarcastic grin.
“I'm sorry. I really am.” Batman found himself apologizing again. It wasn't like he could do anything else. He couldn't turn back time. He's not the one with superpowers.
“Oh, I know you are.” Finally, the clown looked at him, but under that sad and piercing stare, he became the one fighting the urge to turn away with shame. “The perfect Bat made a mistake. But that's ok. That's ok because the Bat is good and the Clown is bad, so as long as the Bat is winning and the Clown is crying, that's ok. Everyone's happy and dancing, and smiling. And the Bat can go to his comfy Bat-cave, to his Bat-friends and Bat-family, and celebrate, and be happy. And the Clown is left sad and alone, and he's still smiling because he can't stop. Because everything is how it's supposed to be. Everything is ok.” With every word, Joker sounded happier but his eyes looked sadder and sadder, once again shining with suppressed tears. And Batman didn't want him to cry.
“I hate Christmas.” It caught the clown's attention. Confusion and surprise were on his face and Batman couldn't say if that was because of what he said or because he spoke at all. “When there wasn't Batman.”
It was too hard to look into those captivating green eyes, so Batman looked away. The colorful explosions were still lighting the sky. Beautiful.
“We weren't religious. It was just us celebrating time together, as a family.” Batman continued, even if words were hard to say. “Dad would always take those few days free off work to stay home during Christmas, and mom would let me run in my pajamas as long as I wanted. We would play chess on the carpet, wood cracking in the fireplace behind us, and my mother's soft voice filling the silence. She loved to play carols on the piano.” He remembers the sounds and the smells. His mother's perfume. Always the same glass bottle in her present box. “I loved all those gifts, sweets, and decorations, but what I was looking forward to the most were those moments together, and...” His voice cracked.
“You don't have to...”
No. He had to finish.
“And then it all disappeared. In just one bad day.” He quoted the clown, but there was no laughter at that. “And now I'm here, and my friends... My second family is waiting for me at home, and I can't... I can't be with them. Because I don't know how to be happy again.” He took a deep breath and forced himself to face the Joker, expecting him to make fun of his weakness, his cowardice.
But the clown wasn't smiling. He wasn't lying down anymore but sat there, close, just staring and listening. This time, he was the one that didn't know what to say, to break the awkward silence. Neither of them were used to this kind of sharing and the one time Batman spoke of his true feelings seemed a long time past even if, in reality, it was only a year ago. Last time it was to save the city, and this time there was no one to save. Just them.
Before either of them spoke it was the universe's turn to make a move, and snow started to fall from the sky. One tiny snowflake after another, slowly covering Gotham with a soft, white blanket. Joker shivered. It was too high for the warmth of the gala's heaters to reach them, and the clown didn't have kevlar armor to keep the cold away. So, Batman did what was the only right thing to do. He unclipped his cape and wrapped it around Joker's shoulders.
The clown didn't stop shivering. After all, it was only a thin cape and not a fluffy blanket. But the smile that appeared on his face when he tightly grabbed the offered cover was warm. And Batman felt that warmth spreading inside him, and he couldn't back away, and he found himself saying...
“Come spend this Christmas Eve with me.” As soon as he spoke, he instantly felt his face turning red, and he was thankful for the cowl.
“You can't be serious.” Joker chuckled like it had to be a joke. Because it had to be and there was no world in which his greatest enemy could offer something like that.
“I'm always serious.” True. “And I want you there, in the manor, with me. I need you, J-bird.” Batman was no longer able to look into those acid-green eyes, so he turned his face, ready for rejection.
Because it was a bad idea. The Joker in his house? With his family? Eating dinner, singing carols, laughing, and watching a movie? That just couldn't work. Stupid, bad idea, and the one thing Batman needed. The only right thing.
“I want hot chocolate with a lot of marshmallows and rainbow sprinkles.” Batman raised his head. “And I'm gonna sing All I Want For Christmas and you can't stop me.” The clown was setting his conditions which meant...
“So you...”
“Of course, I want to spend this evening with you, silly Bats.” Joker giggled, softly and happily. “Or rather this night ?” And there it was again, this jokingly flirtatious smile, and Batman's cheeks redden even further.
He should say something like ‘Gross’ or ‘Shut up’ and never ever smile at that, but he was too happy from the clown taking his offer, and it was too late to suppress the urge to turn his lips upwards. He rolled his eyes and Joker laughed, amused when Batman held out his hand, helping him stand up.