História Tainted Minds - Chapter Nineteen

Bruce had spent most of his afternoon and night in the Batcave, he was testing some new equipment after arriving with a new antidote that, hopefully, would neutralize Scarecrow's new combination of the fear gas. Joker eventually went there to chat and watch him work, which he found fascinating at first, but grown bored off after one hour.

Joker was tired early, way earlier than three or four in the morning like his conventional time to sleep. He had things to do at night and it wasn't rare for him to go to bed right before the sunrise. But today he was having a hard time with his own mind, it was one of those nights in which all his thoughts seemed to be screaming in his head. They were many, all with colors, sounds, textures, different speeds and different memories attached to each. Some were about recent events, some were just ideas, some of them were intrusive thoughts about harming himself or others. Sometimes he had a hard time to know if he had a conversation with Bruce, if he dreamed about it or if he thought about having that conversation. He knew the difference between reality, dreams and thoughts most of the time but when his mind was the way it was tonight, it all felt real. Felt like he was sitting in a dark room with about twenty TV's displaying different channels and five radio frequencies on huge speakers. And he had to keep up with it. He was mentally exhausted. Still aware of reality but exhausted. He laid down on his bed and hoped to sleep until morning.

But he didn't. He woke up two hours later, his mind was not loud and confusing anymore, it was fixed on one simple idea. He wanted to cut. Had been months without it, he was doing well, every day a new personal record, every day he had been as far as he had ever been from the last time. But the ice wasn't doing the trick for a long time, it just wasn't enough. He had given up on it because it was more frustrating than anything else. But now he was so desperate for it that his body had brought him to the kitchen and he had his hesitant hand on the freezer's door. He got some ice cubes and was about to use them in his forearm right there in the kitchen, not even bothering to go the closest bathroom when he turned around to find Bruce with a grey T-shirt all stained by some black grease, looking at him from the corridor. He dropped the ice cubes on the floor with the fright.

Bruce was extremely embarrassed, he didn't want to sneak on him in such a private moment. Joker was also extremely embarrassed, he hated to admit this problem was still haunting him and it made him feel week to show such vulnerability.

"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude… thought you were sleeping… I'm done repairing the Batmobile for now. Hummm… need any help? Maybe some distraction?" Bruce asked while getting the ice cubes from the floor and was about to give them back to Joker when he made a sign with his hand for him to stop

"Throw them in the sink, they don't work anymore anyway" Joker said irritated

Bruce threw them away and got closer to Joker again, putting his hand on his shoulder from behind.

"Having one o those moments?" Bruce asked

"It was worse before… and lasted for some hours until I finally ran out of energy and slept" Joker said feeling uncomfortable for talking about it

"J, I must tell you… I'm not here to incriminate you for using the ice or anything, I'd rather find you here getting it than finding cuts on your body. But if it's not helping anymore, maybe we should try something else"

"Not a fucking clue, I'm opened to suggestions"

"We'll think of something, for now, we should do something to distract you. Maybe we could watch something or just talk about other things" Bruce suggested

"I'm unbearable now, not even I can cope with how irritated and edgy I am… I'm tired, Bruce" Joker admitted after rubbing his eyes and looking at him afterwards. "Do you have anything to make me sleep? I'm done being awake and also done sleeping and having nightmares"

Bruce wasn't expecting this. Joker hated medication, specially any type that resembled what he used to have in Arkham. To have him ask for it was quite revealing on how exhausted he was. Bruce couldn't help but to feel sorry for him, but tried to conceal it, Joker also hated when someone pitied him.

"I do, two kinds, actually. One will make you sleep in about fifteen minutes. The other doesn't knock you out as much but can make you remain in good sleep for about eight hours. Still, I don't like this, there must be a better solution for it"

"Can't I have both?" Joker asked sarcastically

"No" Bruce answered seriously

"In that case, I want the one to sleep until morning. We'll find another way, just let me sleep for now"

"Ok, I'll get it for you"

He gave Joker some cream crackers before giving him the medicine and told him to wait for the effect on his bed. Bruce was there with him sitting close to were he was laying, just to give him company. Joker started not making much sense after about half an hour, indicating he was starting to fall asleep. But there was one last thing he said that got stuck on Bruce's had.

"Do you know what's the problem? It doesn't look the same" Joker said drowsily with his eyes closed

It doesn't look the same. Maybe the ice gave him some sensation that resembled the pain, but it was far away from being as visually "satisfying". Bruce left the room quietly and started to think of what he could do. He tried to remember what made blood distinct from other things. Color, obviously. But there is also more like texture and scent. The temperature too. Also, the way it spreads through the skin. He thought about making some fake blood like in the movies, couldn't be that hard, but that wouldn't hurt. So that's when he had the idea: he could make fake blood and freeze it like the ice cubes. Wouldn't have the right temperature of hot blood spreading but could be convincing enough.

It was late, but Gotham was a big city, some stores were open 24h a day. He decided to make it as simple as he could, nothing too elaborate or with toxic components. He went to a supermarket just to have some ideas and also because he wasn't sleepy at all. He thought about some of those artificial powders to make juice but it's not pretty convincing if it smells like artificial strawberry and grape. Wouldn't be thick enough either. He was almost giving up walking around in the corridors when he passed through some items for baking cakes and party decorations. He saw a product used to thicken recipes like cakes and milkshakes. Also, some concentrated food coloring, the type that five drops can give color to a big cake. He chose red and dark blue to combine. He couldn't think of anything to give it the right scent for now, but he went home secretly excited to play around with what he bought.

He remembered some of what he learned in chemistry lessons while trying his first attempt on the Fake Blood Operation. Like the fact that the powder wouldn't agglutinate so much if he used hot water instead of cold, helps the diffusion before it gets thick. Also, that by adding something to the water, like the thickening powder, it would drop the melting temperature of the solution. He thought the color would be the easy part but he figured that the important aspect was for it to look like blood while it melts, instead of looking like blood in a glass jar when the whole thing was there in room temperature. He dropped the mixture on his wrist until he found a combination of colors that was convincing enough for him. Later, he put them in ice molds and waited until it was frozen.

He cleaned the mess he made meanwhile, looked like a small animal had died a violent death inside the sink. When it was ready it was very late at night but Bruce had to do the one thing it was missing. Test it on himself. How could he expect it to be convincing for someone like Joker if he wasn't convinced himself?

He read people had some rituals for doing this. Some listen to music, for example. He knew Joker didn't, but Bruce was like most people and had a sad playlist for when he just wanted to feel the sadness instead of trying to force himself to cheer up. He felt suffocated when he was unable to feel what he was supposed to feel, even if it was something heavy or sad. He got his headphones, one ice cube made of the fake blood and went to a small bathroom close to the kitchen. He decided to sit on the floor like Joker probably did since all the stain marks in his bathroom were on the lowest parts of the walls and floor.

He waited a couple of songs and allowed himself to feel everything that came with them. It was sorrowed, but also soothing not to hold back. It was a bit dark inside the bathroom, he just turned on the lights close to the mirror, so it contributed to the atmosphere. The song that made him get the ice and press it against his wrist was a song that reminded him of his mother. He rarely listens to it, she used to sing the melody around the house, it was just too painful. The ice started to melt, the skin under it was sensitive already and some of the "blood" started to drop like actual blood would do. Some of it started to drop on the floor, forming a small puddle of it. The song was still playing, Bruce put it on repeat and it was echoing all the corners of his mind. His chest was hurting, it felt heavy but also empty, a huge loss. He could feel tears rolling down his cheeks and he was sobbing while he pressed the ice against another part of his forearm, it was almost over. When it was all melted, the blood was on the floor and also in his whole forearm, some of it in his clothes too. He removed the headphones and sat quietly for some good time, still with tears rolling down his face. He felt so lonely, his parents were dead, Rachel was dead, Alfred left him, he had no real friends to talk to, he couldn't trust anyone. He had Joker, but that was a secret and it's hard to fulfill all the need of human contact a person needs with just one person. He started to feel even worse when he realized he couldn't remember his mother's voice, so many years had passed. Made him feel guilty above all things.

He had cried considerably, for his standards. He suddenly felt exhausted, he could sleep right there, but he had to clean all that mess so Joker wouldn't look at it randomly in the morning. This might have been one the most difficult tasks of his life for him, cleaning was the last thing in the world he wanted to do now. He also needed a shower, water alone didn't get the red color away from his skin. He rubbed it with hot water under the shower and it all came off. Finally, when he laid down to sleep he understood why Joker got an infection. What he experienced was intense but must be even more to someone who actually has problems with self-harm. He probably wouldn't be able to clean the cuts properly afterwards and knowing Joker, he probably wouldn't have the sense of self-preservation Bruce had to clean the tools before he started. He wanted to receive a hug more than anything while he was trying to sleep, but he didn't want to be selfish and wake Joker up after the mess his mind was earlier. His bed just felt huge and cold.

When Joker woke up in the morning he was feeling better, he had the best sleep of the last two weeks. He hated medicine but he had to admit the modern sleep inducers were pretty good. He walked around the house a little, thinking Bruce wasn't there, he would usually be gone by now. When he left his used mug on the sink he noticed there were some red stains in the sponge. He got curious to know if Bruce cooked something late at night, once he actually baked a cake three in the morning because he was bored and the next day he gave it to a homeless man. He looked inside de oven but there was nothing there, so he looked inside the fridge, still nothing. At last, he opened the freezer and saw an ice mold with some kind of dark substance on them, one ice cube missing. There was also a small envelope inside another transparent envelope made of plastic. It was a note addressed to him.

"Joker,

I made them for you to use instead of the conventional ice, it's not toxic or anything. Might stain your clothes.

I hope it will help you, let me know, we can talk about it whenever you want. You're doing great, I'll never give up on you, so please, don't give up on yourself.

Love,

Bruce"

"Bruce…" Joker said to himself, very touched by Bruce's little note. They never wrote to each other.

Obviously, he understood instantly what Bruce was trying to do with the dark substance. He wasn't in the mood for it now but he was too curious to wait. He got a small cube that was probably a left over from the other ones and pressed it against his skin, over one of his scars. Didn't take long for it to start melting, forming thick drops of blood that rolled down through his forearm due to gravity. It was a bright day but even in clear light it looked like blood and the drops were very convincing.

Joker couldn't avoid thinking that a big ice cube would provide him a way bigger amount of "blood" than any shallow cuts he did in his relapses. He had deeper cuts before when he was at his worse, but even so, he tried not to hit an artery or something. It occurred to him that Bruce was probably sleeping if he made the mixture and waited for it to freeze he must have slept pretty late. On his way to Bruce's bedroom, after cleaning his arm in the sink, he had no idea what to say. He would never dream someone would be this willing to help him. He couldn't believe it was the same man that was furious with him the first night he relapsed.

Entering Bruce's bedroom quietly he saw him sleeping under the covers and tried to hug him from behind without waking him up.

"J…?" Bruce asked in a drowsy way, half awake

"Of course it's me unless you've been cuddling around behind my back" Joker answered softly before giving him a quick kiss behind his ear

"Don't even joke about it, you know I wouldn't. Cuddling with somebody else is the most serious and unforgivable infraction, I would never be the same again. Maybe if you had sex with half of Gotham's criminals I could forgive you, but definitely not if you cuddled with somebody else. I'm sure you think the same" Bruce said joking while turning around to look at Joker, being entirely awake now

Joker was about to continue joking about it, but he saw Bruce had puffy eyes when he turned around, he had been crying.

"Hey… what happened? Why were you crying, did anything bad happened?" Joker asked softly but also concerned

"Oh, it's nothing… just some bad thoughts, I'm feeling better now" Bruce answered a bit uncomfortable, trying to imagine how his face was to be so obvious he had cried before he went to bed

"Didn't mean to wake you up, but I couldn't wait to thank you for what I found on the freezer. I'm sure it will help me a lot, that was a brilliant idea! I just don't get it how you give importance to people's feelings but always diminish your own… you always say it's nothing, or silly, or stupid or not important. What you feel matters too, it certainly matters to me. Now tell me why were you crying"

"I'm really happy you think it will help you, I can make as much as you need. I decided to test it on myself last night, I wanted to see how convincing it would be so I listened to some music and tested… but I got really emotional when one particular song started… made me remember of my mother… I was so long ago, I'm not even sure if the memories I have are real or if I made them up, that always makes me feel awful. That night Scarecrow poisoned me I heard her voice somehow, I saw them, but it wasn't her real voice. She was sad, angry, disappointed, she never sounded like that in real life. Her voice was soft, pleasant and I remember she sang so well… I wish I could remember that voice" Bruce said in a sad tone, not looking into Joker's eyes much

Joker made a mental note on how this was a huge deal for Bruce. If the Fear Toxin brought this torment of not remembering his mother's voice to the surface, it was something as unsettling to Bruce as seeing him dead and the bats attacking the two of them. It was cruel to think he had this fear and the toxin made him listen to his mother in a way he would want to forget.

"You know something about memories, Bruce? They can be confusing, I know that for sure, but it's not about remembering something as detailed as a picture or a video, I'm sure a memory is real for the way it makes me feel. Maybe it didn't happen exactly like that, maybe my brain filled the gaps or even gave me some images and sounds to help with it, but it's all about not forgetting the feeling. The feeling is real, maybe what your head had to create to make you remember the feeling is not, but so what? You were just a kid, it's not fair trying to remember in detail"

"Oh… thanks for saying that" Bruce said while hugging him strongly. He started sobbing so Joker rubbed his back a little.

"I keep saying this to you, you're too hard on yourself. You don't have to be a hero all the time"

"You don't have to be a villain all the time either" Bruce said with a cracked voice. He wasn't accusing him or anything, he just said it in case Joker also felt a burden on always presenting himself as the living nightmare of Gotham

"I had my fair share with identity crises ever since we started being together, but yeah, I know… It's ok to be good sometimes, I'm still myself, it's just a part of me I didn't know so well yet" Joker said while touching Bruce's hair slowly while he was still hugging him

After some time Bruce loosened up their embrace a little to kiss him. After that, they just lay down quietly, Joker even thought Bruce was going to fall asleep again.

"You know… the ice hurts more than I thought it would. I thought one cube was too little and that it wouldn't hurt but it felt different… I used ice many times on injuries but it wasn't the same" Bruce said with his head on Joker's chest

"I had the same thought the first time. I think that's a sensitive part of the body and if you press the ice long enough it actually hurts. Probably the way we feel when we do it influences too. Where did you do it? How did you get the rest of the ink out?" Joker asked looking at his forearm that was still stained with red ink

"My left wrist at first… and the rest of my forearm closer to the end. I took a shower after that… so I guess some hot water and soap… also used that sponge I have"

"So you're the sad songs, wrist cutting kind of guy… Honestly didn't think you would choose your wrist, but not surprised with the music. I… well… I used to drink a lot and do it, or just do it without being drunk. I tried to avoid cutting while I'm drunk for some time, but I just gave up later"

"I always thought people cut because they want to die, thought it was one step behind suicide"

"Maybe it is some steps behind suicide… But I didn't do it because I wanted to die… I was trying to live… as weird as it sounds"

Bruce placed his arm around him under the sheets again. He wanted to say he is sorry for breaking him the way he did, but they had this conversation too many times already. Both apologizing, although they never said something like "I forgive you for everything" for each other. They know that's not possible, but they learned how to live with the amount of forgiveness they could provide to each other. As weird and disturbing as their love could sound to the outside world.