Crane's fist slammed onto the control panel, and both Harley and Bruce began to jolt in their chairs as pale blue strands of electricity began to flow through them. "Come on, dammit!" he roared as both Tim and Nightwing held their breath. At last, the bodies were still, and Tim and Nightwing rushed over to see to Bruce as Crane ran over to Harley.

There was no sign of life – no breath came from her lips, and he couldn't feel a pulse in her neck. Crane sighed heavily as he unhooked her from the machine. "Well, at least she's out of pain," he murmured. "And with the Joker now," he said, glancing at Bruce, who was equally devoid of life.

Suddenly, Harley drew a deep breath, her eyes snapping open. She exhaled slowly, looking around wide-eyed. "Harley?" said Crane. "Can you hear me?"

She stared at him in confusion. "Harley…isn't here right now," she murmured.

And that was when Crane noticed her eyes. Her normally bright blue eyes…had turned green.

"Oh my God," Crane gasped. "Joker? Is that…you?"

Harley beamed, a strangely maniacal grin. "The one and only, Craney!" she chuckled.

Before anyone could react, Harley had leapt to her feet, racing out of the room toward the exit. Tim ran after her, but was hit with a punch strangely harder than Harley's usual, one which sent him tumbling to the ground.

"Nice try, Birdie boy!" giggled Harley. "But you'll have to do better than that, or it'll be you I beat to death next!"

She cackled maniacally as she ran into the tunnel and disappeared. "What the hell…did you do?" gasped Tim, turning to Crane.

"I didn't do anything," he retorted. "Harley must have figured out some way to bring the Joker into her body."

"So that means the Joker…" began Tim.

"Is alive," finished Crane, nodding. "And Mr. Wayne is free of him, assuming he's alive, of course," he added, nodding at Bruce's still unresponsive body.

Bruce gasped suddenly, opening his eyes. "Bruce!" whispered Nightwing in relief. "Thank God!"

Bruce Wayne stared around him, trying to remember what on earth had been happening both inside his mind and out. "Joker!" he gasped. "Where…"

"He's in Harley's body now," murmured Nightwing. "And she's gone, Bruce. But we'll find her, don't worry."

Bruce let out a heavy sigh. "No," he muttered. "It was meant to be over. I was meant to end it. I was meant to lock him up someplace where nobody would ever find him, where he couldn't hurt anyone anymore…"

"And we will, Bruce," said Tim, reassuringly. "We will. Maybe you can help us again, huh?"

Bruce stared at him. "You mean go back out there, as Batman?"

"Why not?" asked Tim. "With Joker on the loose, this city needs you again."

Bruce looked around, at the remains of the plants in the hideout which still imprisoned Tetch, who was crying softly to himself, at Crane who had headed over to release him, at Tim and Nightwing, his protegees, his friends…

He nodded slowly. "Maybe it does," he agreed. "Maybe it does."

...

Bruce Wayne walked down the corridors of the asylum named in his memory. He was in disguise, of course, and not in a bat costume for once. He had signed himself in as a Dr. Michael Conroy, an old associate of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, who had wanted to visit her since her relapse. And what a relapse, the doctor informed him as they walked. Harley had always been dangerously unstable, but her crimes were much, much more violent and random than anything she had ever done before. She had somehow learned how to make Joker toxin, and when the police had finally caught her, it was to her laughing hysterically over a bunch of smiling corpses, with the message Don't be a stranger, Batsy! written in blood behind her.

Bruce was shown into the visiting room where Harley sat in a straightjacket behind a thick pane of glass. "You have five minutes," said the doctor, leaving them alone.

Harley grinned at him, an unfamiliar grin on her face, but a very familiar grin on someone else's, as her green eyes shone in delight. "Hello, Batsy!" she chuckled. "No need to dress up in your Sunday best for me, old pal! I'll recognize you whatever your disguise!"

"I could say the same thing," murmured Bruce, staring at her. "Can I talk to Harley, Joker?"

"Not sure why you'd want to, Bats – she's only a dumb blonde!" giggled Harley. "Didn't used to have a thought in her head, but now she has tons, thanks to me! Tons of fun, happy, genius thoughts!"

"I want to talk to her," repeated Bruce. "I want to know why she did it."

Harley laughed. "All right, lemme see if I can find her. She's gotta be hanging around here somewhere, like the useless waste of space she is…"

A few moments later, Harley's eyes changed from green to blue, and she smiled a familiar smile at Batman, a dreamy, adoring smile.

"Hi, Bats," she murmured.

"Harley," he said, quietly. "I hope you're happy."

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, beaming. "Couldn't be happier! My puddin' and me are always together, always! I proved the extent of my love for him, I've sacrificed everything I have for him, and now I can serve him and see him happy every day! It's a dream come true!"

"Why did you do it?" whispered Bruce.

Harley grinned. "It was the only way, Brucie. The only way we'd all be happy. And now I'll never be empty or alone again. I'll always be with my puddin'. And he can always fight Batman. He'll never have to live without you again, and I'll never have to live without him again. Everybody's happy. Forever."

"Your innocent victims aren't happy," murmured Bruce. "The people you kill, the citizens of Gotham, they're not happy."

Harley shrugged. "I am. Mr. J is. You are," she added, smiling at him. "So everyone that matters is. You got someone to fight again, and something to fight for. Mr. J tells me that other vigilante poser made the criminals scared of Batman again – made you a symbol to be feared, a symbol of terror, a real monster who strikes fear into the hearts of criminals. So you can get back to work ASAP. Mr. J can't wait, Bats. He's been looking forward to fighting you again for a long time. C'mon, you should be thanking me, Brucie! You got your life back now! You can be Batman again, and you won't be trapped in your little cave anymore! You got a reason to live again!"

"And what if I don't play your silly games?" asked Bruce, quietly.

Harley giggled. "You will," she said. "Mr. J knows you will, or we'll keep hurting innocent people together. And you can't just ignore that, Batsy. You could never ignore Mr. J. Which I guess means you can't ignore me now either!" she laughed.

Bruce stood up. "Thousands of people will die," he murmured. "Because of your little stunt. Because you couldn't just let the monster die, or stay locked up in his cage. Thousands of innocent people will die for your love, Harley. So I hope that makes you happy."

Harley grinned, and her eyes flashed green again. "Quite the joke, huh, Batsy?" she chuckled. "Quite the joke!"

Her laughter rose in a hysterical pitch, and Bruce headed for the door with a heavy heart. He knew that laugh – he had heard it in the depths of his mind, and he knew now that he would never escape it.

He left the asylum, passing the cells where Jason glared at passersby, and Tetch sat muttering to himself, and Crane sat with a self-satisfied, smug look on his face, as if he knew he'd be out any day now.

And he was right. The next evening, the news reported a mass breakout from the asylum. It was all happening again, thought Bruce, as he perched on a stone gargoyle with a vantage point of Gotham City, dressed in a modified Batsuit.

He tapped his comms unit. "Alfred, any leads?"

"On the escaped supercriminals? None, sir. But the police are tracking a stolen car in the Kingston district."

"I'm on my way," said Bruce, nodding.

"Very good, sir. Master Tim told me that he and Mrs. Drake have postponed their honeymoon plans again, should you require their assistance."

"No, that's ok, Alfred," murmured Bruce. "Tell them to go. There are some battles I have to fight alone."

He had always been alone at the start, he thought, as he grappled onto a nearby rooftop. And somehow it felt like it was all starting over again.

The End