[ EU ] Batman turns evil and starts committing crimes rather than stopping then . The Joker realises that in order to remain Batman 's antagonist he must turn good and become a hero .

`` Wotcher mate.'' He said it, yet there was no hint of cheer in his voice. Instead, an old friend lurked -- one he had not heard since the beginning. A darkness that lurked within him, a rough tone of vengeance that promised sinister things -- thing that not even he would dream of doing. 
 
 `` Hello my old friend, what do they call you now -- the dark knight?'' A twisted scarred grin crinkled along uneven edges as it contorted into a smirk, viewing the figure at the far end of the alley. What a fall from grace; savior of the city to lurking in dirty side alleys in the night. 
 
 `` Have you come to tell me to stop, brother? Or to join me?'' 
 
 `` Join you in a sudden mad twist of fate -- you were once the hero of this city, the sight of the bat one that brought joy to people's hearts -- hope even. And now... now it seems that the coin has flipped over... is this what has been lurking in your soul? A dark beast that leaves its kills out like trophies?'' 
 
 He laughed then, a laugh that sent anger bubbling up in his veins. Yes, go ahead. Laugh at the Joker. That's what they had always called him when he was younger. The Joker -- the Clown -- and to Mrs. Wayne, the woman who's heart was big enough for an orphan, the happiest part of her day. Back then, he had been full of life; of hope and optimism that someday he would change the world for the better. 
 
 And then their parents had been killed -- lives snuffed out like matches in the rain. And though Mrs. Wayne had loved him as a son, they had never filled out official adoption papers, and while Bruce had Alfred to look after him... he had no one. Sure, Bruce had tried to cling to him, to hold together the tattered remains of his family. But the manor held too many memories of laughter and a joy that now brought a stabbing pain to the fragile little pieces of what heart remained. 
 
 And yet even in those darkest of times, embers of hope still burned. A shared thirst for vengeance against those who had taken anything from them gave birth to the most ludicrous of plans; at its core, it was nothing more than an extreme telling of good cop, bad cop. Bruce would become the good cop, while he... well he thought, touching the jagged tips of his perpetual smile, that went without saying. 
 
 `` Why now, brother? Why after all these years do you give in to the darkness -- why kill innocents?'' The Joker asked softly, falling in next to his brother in all but blood at the edge of the roof. 
 
 `` Take the stupid make up off,'' he muttered, ignoring his question. `` I ca n't talk to you when we're still in these stupid roles.'' It had rained a good part of the day, so it was no matter to scoop up dirty rainwater, splashing and scrubbing his face clean of the mask he wore better than his own face most days. 
 
 A beat of silence stretched the gap between the two, at its edges a darkness deeper than the night that surrounded them. 
 
 `` They killed her,'' he said finally, 
 
 `` They've killed a lot of people Bruce, they're the Mafia,'' it felt wrong somehow to live up to his namesake by joking at a time like this. 
 
 `` No. They killed -- her -- they killed them.'' Bruce turned to look at him then, and in his gaze, a light flared to life. It was more than just darkness that haunted the dark circles below his eyes -- more than anger that darkened normally dark brown to black. Pain. The Joker saw a pain so all-consuming -- he had not seen such pain since the day they stood by polished coffins as they were lowered into the deep dark Earth. 
 
 `` Oh.'' That was all that he could say. It was all that needed to be said. 
 
 `` Will you join me, Brother?'' Bruce asked again, the smallest hint of a wry predatorial grin flashing in the darkness. 
 
 `` It would be an honor dear Bat,'' the Joker replied with a smirk and followed him to the stairwell and beyond -- to justice long overdue.
