Batman's POV~

My suspicions were confirmed when I entered the kitchen. Alfred was holding a slightly rusty frying pan and the Joker was passed out on the floor. Alfred looked scared but held his weapon tight as if it were a sword a look of determination in his eyes. He was standing between the Joker and the knife rack, effectively blocking the potential weapons from the unconscious clowns reach, I could only assume my suspicions about the Joker trying to kill me were correct. My respect for my butler grew at the sight of him bravely standing his ground and I made a mental note to never sneak up on Alfred in his armoury (aka our kitchen).

For some reason though the Jokers betrayal made me fell oddly... disappointed? No that couldn't be it. I was probably just irritated that I had been wrong about him needing me alive, I was simply stressed about the case and that's why I was feeling such strange things. That made more sense.

I glanced quickly around the room with a detectives keen eye and was surprised to see two half made cheese sandwiches on the countertop, the block of cheese was sitting by the bread un-grated and sure enough when I turned back around to address Alfred I saw the cheese grater sitting by the knife stand.

I pretend I didn't feel relived by that.

"Um Alfred..." I started,

"I found him in here sir. I think he was heading for the knives!" He said without taking his eyes off our guest.

"I invited him here Alfred, he was just making a sandwich." I said calmly as I strode over and took the pan from his hand. I hoped I sounded more sure of myself than I felt, the past few days must have really messed me up if I'm now defending the Joker.

"YOU INVITED HIM!?!" He shouted in disbelief. I knew that if he still had the pan it would be flying towards my head at this point.

"Well he kind of invited himself. He offered his help with the case and I couldn't refuse because... he figured out who I was." I had to pause before saying the last bit because saying out loud would make it true, the Joker had finally done the impossible and basically owned me now, Alfred is definitely not going to be happy about this. I really didn't want to be dealing with him now and I certainly didn't need to hear the lecture that was bound to follow my last statement.

"Are you mad? He is obviously playing you Bruce! Why would he help you?! More importantly, how in Gods green earth did he figure out who you are?!" He said frantically whilst pacing up and down the kitchen. His shoes where getting uncomfortably close to the Jokers fingers, I was worried he would step on them so I stepped over the still out cold Joker and pulled Alfred into a hug to calm him down. Despite everything, Alfred was like a father to me and I hated seeing him this distressed.

"I'm sorry Al. He is a lot smarter than we gave him credit for I should have listened to you and been more carful." I pulled away to look him in the eyes "but don't worry about him trying to kill me. He needs me alive for now."

I tried my hardest to believe what I was saying but I couldn't help thinking that Alfred was right, the Joker definitely has a plan and that is never a good thing.

"Why does he need you?" Alfred asked sceptically.

"Harley is missing as well. As long as she is gone I'm useful to him."

"Do you have any proof that she is gone?" This question made me freeze. Alfred was right. I had no proof that anything the Joker had said up until now was true. I had trusted one of my worst enemies who was not only a psychopath but also a known murderer. I was starting to doubt that the Joker was the only madman in this room.

"Bruce... I don't think you should trust him. We can't understand his motives and that makes him dangerous, you know that." Alfred said with a sigh.

"I know, I know but I can't shake this feeling that something is different this time! You haven't seen the way he's been acting Alfred, it's almost like he wants to gain my trust or something. I don't trust him, of course I don't, but maybe he's trying to change that. Think about it Alfred, we could use this opportunity to learn more about him, finding out who he was before all of this is worth the risk of him trying to kill me. I want to know what happened to him. I need to know Al!"

"But why!?" Alfred said, clearly exasperated.

"I don't know! Maybe because I want to help him!" I replied almost shouting in frustration. I took a few deep breaths before continuing. "At this point I only have two options left. I could try and help him get better or, if that fails, I'll have no choice but to kill him."

There was a moment of silence as Alfred thought about his next words.

"I will trust your judgment Bruce but don't expect me to like it." He said finally.

"I'll will be fine Al. If he had wanted to kill me he could have done it when we were in bed last night."

"...right." Said Alfred in an slightly amused tone. "I'm not sure I want to ask..."

"That is not what I meant!" I shouted suddenly realising what Alfred was implying and very quickly explained what had happened last night. He found the whole thing hilarious and left the room still laughing softly. I groaned at his sick sense of humour but decided to check on our resident clown who was still lying on the kitchen floor.

"You and Alfred should start a comedy club" I mumbled grumpily to the unconscious clown.

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Jokers POV~

I woke up on something soft. I didn't want to open my eyes and face the harsh light just yet so I kept them closed. The pain in the back of my head was made apparent as I tried to sit up but failed and fell back onto what I assumed was the sofa. I tried to remember what had happened before I passed out but all I could recall was going into the kitchen, a sharp burst of pain and then darkness.

The worst part of getting knocked out is waking up. I would know as Bruce has a terrible habit of reintroducing my face to his foot every time we meet. I hated this part. The space in between waking up and getting up sucks.

So I lay still for a minute still not willing to deal with the pain that was to follow. I was waiting for the ache to fade further but it didn't seem like that was going to happen. Eventually I decided it was in my best interests to find out where I was and more importantly where the Bat had gone.

Sitting up and opening my eyes was exactly as painful as I had thought it would be. My hand instinctively slipped into my pocket and I almost panicked when I didn't feel my knife inside. With my favourite distraction missing I started to get very twitchy, I started to scratch the back of my hand just hard enough to give me something to focus on. I groaned at the feeling and started to look around. I was indeed on a sofa in what appeared to be a large living room complete with a fireplace, expensive looking paintings and vases.

Unfortunately Bruce walked in with a first aid kit before I could vandalise any of them in search of a weapon.

"Sorry about that it seems you gave my butler quiet the scare." He said putting the first aid kit on the coffee table and taking a seat next to me. I took note of how he sat as far away from me as possible and I tried to ignore the wave of irritation that flooded over me at the action.

"I gave him a scare! He was the one who attacked me!" I pointed out, scratching just a little harder at my hand. "What the hell did he hit me with anyway? I feel like I was smacked over the head with a saucepan."

"Close. It was a frying pan." Bruce said holding back laughter. He opened the kit he had brought with him and started to remove bandages, antiseptics and other medical equipment from it. I did not like where this was going.

"Don't you have work to do or something?" I replied in an attempt to distract him from my injury and perhaps move the conversation to something that could befit me, I am here to help Bats after all and getting some work done would be a great way for me to show my usefulness.

"Yes and so do you." He said as if reading my mind, he stopped unpacking the equipment and attempted to meet my gaze, but his eyes kept darting down to my still moving hand and his face held that odd unreadable expression again.

'I wondered if my scratching makes him uncomfortable?' I thought to myself. 'maybe I should stop... maybe he thinks I have a skin infection, I should definitely stop before he thinks Im dirty... he probably already thinks that.' This realisation upset me even more so I didn't stop scratching.

Seeing the shift in my mood Bruce continued his previous thought as if to distract me. "After we get your head checked I was thinking we should try to find the Hatter. I know he likes to keep to himself but, assuming he hasn't been taken, he might know something."

The words 'after we get your head checked' where not lost on me but I decided to ignore them and focus on the last part on the sentence.

"Good idea, I've been meaning to find out where he's been hiding anyway." I replied still eyeing the medical equipment on the table warily.

The Hatter is not someone I often associate with, he is an interesting fellow who likes to mentally fuck with his victims before killing them. I don't know too much about him but he has an obvious obsession with Alice in wonderland. He's the kind of crazy I can respect but he doesn't seem to like me very much. I doubt he will talk to us easily but if he hasn't been taken then Bruce is right, he could be of use.

I was very aware of how close I was to the first aid kit and I wanted to put some distance between me and it, I stood up and was about to move to the other side of the coffee table when Bats grabbed my wrist firmly. I repressed a flinch and had to resist the urge to bite his fingers.

I knew what was coming and didn't like it one bit.

He pulled me back onto the expensive looking black sofa and sat unintentionally closer to me this time. I felt my fingernails drag across my skin hard enough to draw blood but I still didn't stop. I really missed my knife.

"I need to make sure Alfred didnt hurt you too bad, I can't have you collapsing on me" he said like what he was suggesting wasn't a total foot over the line.

Batman is a logical person and logically having someone injured with him on a mission could put him at risk, so assessing my wound seems like a good idea to him. I, however, am an instinctual person and my instincts are screaming at me to not let someone stronger and possibly smarter than me near my most vulnerable area.

Not only that but I have more than enough repressed memories of people, or specifically one person, that would definitely resurface if he touched my hair. Bad memories that I'm glad I can't fully reach. If I react weirdly Bats will notice and I'd have to explain the unexplainable to the one person who I could never bare to find out. Even if it compromises my plan, Batman is still dangerous. He can't know.

"I'm fine Bruce!" I said in the most casual voice I could muster. "See:" I brought the hand I had previously been scratching to the back of my head and touched it lightly. I knew that I was hurt but I didn't expect to be bleeding and I was annoyed to see the red liquid staining my fingers. Bruce will not drop this now.

"Damn" I said "your butler has a good batting arm" I laughed nervously.