[ WP ] - Joker seeks vengeance for the death of Batman

Have n't written anything in years. For some reason this wp inspired me. Not nearly as good as some of the others in this thread but I hope you enjoy it: 
 
 He hasnt spoken for two days. His last words were `` That isnt funny.'' 
 
 I havent seen Mr. J like this before.He's always enjoyed seeing Bats in pain. We've left him in predicaments where death was certain, and cursed out loud when it was discovered that the Detective of the Night somehow survived. 
 
 The TV turns off in the other room. I stay motionless, straining to hear even a hint of a chuckle. There is nothing. A sniffle. Footsteps approaching. 
 
 
 `` Mr. J?'' 
 
 I didnt expect a response. For what might be the first time since we met, i'm right. His eyes look past me, to the window. 
 
 `` Its all wrong'' he says. `` Its always been wrong. I was wrong. I need a towel.'' 
 
 Not knowing what else to do, I go into the kitchen of the abandoned apartment building. We've only been here a few nights. I find a sheet. I rip a strip off and return to find Mr. J sitting, leaned forward on the edge of a chair. His rose, always in his front pocket, was twirling between his thumb and forefinger. He's staring intensely at it. 
 
 `` Here Mr. J --'' 
 `` NO.'' he interrupts. The voice is lower and harsh. It catches me off-guard. 
 `` There is no Joker. The Joker was a farce. I thought Batman was an adversary, but he was more than that. He understood me when no one else could.'' 
 
 He drops the rose to the floor. He looks at me, as if the rose never existed. 
 
 `` Ms. Quinn, we have a problem.''. He takes the rag in one hand, then offers his other hand to me. 
 
 `` I understand why he did it. All these years, he would stand guard in the dark, keeping the evil like you and me in check. Ms. Quinn,'' he motions towards me. I put my hand in his. `` What would you do if a simple thug were to end my existence? Would you laugh? Cry?'' 
 
 `` Mr-'' I catch myself. He's looking right into my eyes. His smile is gone, replaced with deep wrinkles. Tears have smudged the makeup around his cheeks. I dont know what to call him. 
 
 `` I wouldnt know what to do, honest.''. 
 
 He starts wiping the makeup off my face, gently. 
 
 `` You would be lost? That's what they all feel, the people of Gotham, every night. Thugs and monsters take from them. We've taken from them, and now, someone has taken from me.'' 
 
 He folds the rag over and begins wiping away the paint and grime from his own face. The wrinkles become more pronounced. Years of strain, once hidden, are fully exposed. 
 
 `` Ms. Quinn, my audience is gone. The only one that understood our theatre. And it hurts. This is what Batman protected everyone from. The pain of having someone you cared about taken from you.'' 
 
 He's snapped. Or snapped out of it. 
 
 I prod just a little, `` I know what will cheer you up! Shopping! Lets get some guns and toys!'' 
 
 `` Yes, but we'll need new clothes first. I know just the tailor too.''. He walks into the kitchen, and begins washing the rest of the makeup away. `` Can you grab my jacket?'' 
 
 I go into the TV room and pick up his dark purple suit jacket from the dusted table. A batarang falls from a pocket. 
 
 `` Where exactly are we going?'' I already knew the asnswer. I walk towards the door, inspecting the Dark Knight's signature gadget. 
 
 The man formerly known as the Joker opens the door, pauses, and turns to me. He takes the weapon in his hand and deftly slips it behind his back, into his belt. 
 
 `` Wayne manor.'' 

