The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.

Joker cackled in glee, looking out at the destruction with wild, joyous eyes. Before him, fire licked at the sky from the explosion he had caused. Sirens and screams pierced the air as sharply as a knife in flesh; always accompanied by the quieter crackling of the flames. It was so much more fun to be here, so close to the damage, able to feel the heat on his face himself, as opposed to watching from a distance and feeling little more than slight tremors beneath his feet at the time of detonation.

He had blown up one of the Wayne buildings. He usually didn't bother with them, since the rich Wayne brat himself had so much cash the damage never lasted for long. But he had done it this time, because there was some kind of expo going on. The explosion had, unfortunately, been premature, not going off when the expo was in full swing, but rather just as it began.

The clown prince didn't care. There were still plenty of delicious little corpses.

He clapped his hands together and danced about in a circle childishly. Beside him, or rather, a few feet away, Harley giggled into her hands. Joker, in a rare moment of happiness, grabbed her and pulled her into a dance.

"Isn't the music just wonderful, darling?" He asked. "Can't you hear it?" She giggled more in answer as he twirled her around to the sounds of beautiful, wonderful, chaos.

"Joker." The deep, somewhat scratchy voice cut through the haze of insane glee, and Joker looked up with a shiver, stopping his dance with Harley.

"Batsy!" The sight and sound of the black-caped vigilante was like a breath of fresh air to the Joker. His grin widened, and he opened his mouth, ready to taunt him.

Oh, he had missed this.

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.

Lamb sat in the silent greenhouse atop a large, purple-leafed plant. It was soft, like sitting on a cushion. One of its' thick vines curled around him, and he leaned into it, feeling safe.

His chest hurt.

His laughing man had gone to work. He had said he would be back that night, but that had been three days ago, and his laughing man, and the red-black woman who he had, slowly, grown more comfortable around, had not returned. His wonderful laughing man was gone, and he didn't know where.

His chest hurt.

He pushed his face against the thick vine and whimpered. It curled tighter around him. It knew. It understood. More vines came down, creating a cave around him until the only light came from a small opening near his face the vines had left him for air.

It felt nice. Like wrapping up in a blanket. Like when he was small and would hide in that dark little hole under the apple tree so he couldn't be found by-

Don't think about that. Never think about that.

His chest hurt.

He whimpered again. There was a clack. He peeked out through the hole to the greenhouse entrance. His head tilted, hurt pushed aside for a moment. He had expected the pretty red haired woman. And she was there.

But she wasn't alone.

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.

Batman groaned, refusing to acknowledge the pain of the bruises on his side. He had a cracked rib, and was a bit worse for wear, but he was fine. His fingers tapped irritably away atop the desk. He had, before handing them over to the orderlies at Arkham, searched the Joker and Harley for evidence.

He had smelled something odd on them, like old leather, and had taken soil samples from the grooves of Joker's shoes. The computer was analyzing it now alongside the sound of his impatient fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table.

He needed to find where they had been staying, because that was his best chance of finding the John Doe.

With a ping, the computer suddenly displayed its results. Narrow-eyed, Batman cross-referenced the soil type with locations in Gotham. There weren't many.

-And one of them was an abandoned leather-working factory.

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim

He stalked through the buildings almost silently, bar the occasional swish or flutter of his cape. He could see a greenhouse from where he was, a leftover remnant of some old rich leather-maker's love of gardening. He knew that was probably his best chance for finding what he was looking for, but he needed to secure the perimeter first, so he kept it in his peripheral vision.

He found Ivy in what looked like a lab of sorts, mixing up some sort of chemical. He waited in the shadows where she couldn't see him, wanting to know what she was up to but knowledgeable enough about chemical reactions to not be willing to risk startling her.

It didn't matter.

"I don't really appreciate your lurking." She commented, eyes flicking in his direction but her hands never stopping her work. He stood from his crouch and approached her slightly.

His interactions with Ivy tended to vary. She was a difficult opponent when they fought, but she was one of the few villains who sometimes came quietly, so he never initiated any violence with her until he knew for sure that he had to. There had also been the occasion here and there where she slipped him info on things other villains were doing.

Though usually only if those in danger were children.

"What is that?" He asked bluntly. Her creation was taking on the form of a slightly yellowish white liquid.

"A specialized nutritional medicine. More or less anyways. You're going to need a lot of it after you take me in." She was starting to put it into vials, setting each into a case alongside a long metal syringe. She made it sound as though she would be going peacefully this time and he relaxed, slightly.

"For what?"

"Lamb." That didn't really explain anything, but after a few moments of the sounds of her filling and clinking the vials together, she elaborated. "Joker's new pet. He pulled him out of Arkham, cut that bush of hair of his, cleaned him up..." The John Doe. So he was here. "He was malnourished, but his lips are sewn shut and he freaks out if you try to do anything about it; so we've been finding ways around it where we can, to keep him alive. I'll make you a list of foods and drinks he can have. He'll need a shot of this stuff every five days." He nodded. She was talking like she expected him to look after 'Lamb' himself...

Given the circumstances of his confinement at Arkham, he might have to do just that.

"He's not too good at taking care of himself. He's like a kid. You'll have to order him around to get him to eat and bathe. Be careful about that though. The kid tends to follow orders he shouldn't. Or at least he does with the Joker." She paused. "Lamb is very... fond of him. He's been depressed since you locked him up so you should keep an eye on that. He doesn't talk. And he's harmless. We tried to teach him how to fight but he won't raise a hand against anyone, not even in defense."

"You care about him."

"I do. He's... not all there, but he's a good kid. He deserves better than that clown's attention on him." She sneered, and then sighed. "Joker is... scarily obsessed with him. I was worried at first that he was..." She stopped, biting her bottom lip.

"What?" He prompted her. He needed as much info about this as he could get.

"I thought he was fucking him." She said bluntly. "And I don't think Lamb understands things well enough to be able to consent... Joker hasn't though, far as I can tell, but that doesn't mean he won't. If he manages to break out again he'll come for Lamb." She finished mixing up the medicine and put the vials down for a moment, turning to face him with her green eyes blazing. "You have to protect him." She practically snarled the words. "You have to. He can't go back to Arkham and you can't let Joker sink his claws back into him." He had never seen her show so much passion about anything but her plants, and it gave him pause.

"I will." He finally agreed, because he had planned to protect the John Doe... Lamb... anyways. She nodded sharply, and turned away to finish up.

"I'll help you take him from here. He'll go more easily that way. You can blindfold us if you need to, but I'll see him settled in before you cart me off." She paused."You'll need to give me some bruises before that too. I need it to look like I fought if the Joker or Harley see me." He shifted uneasily. He didn't want to bring Ivy to the cave, blindfolded or not.

... But he could tell that if he tried to stop her, there would be a real fight, and with his rib cracked like it was, she might manage some serious damage before he beat her (and he didn't much like the thought of doing that either). Especially given how much Lamb appeared to matter to her.

"Fine."

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.

When she finished with the meds Ivy packed them up into a large silver case. Rows of gleaming yellowish liquid inside clear needleless syringes, and a packet of said needles on the bottom. Then she handed it to him to carry and led him to the greenhouse. He might have thought it was a trap, but that wasn't really Ivy's style.

He still tried not to step too close to the plants that moved.

There was one on one side that's vines were all twisted up together, and Ivy went straight for it. She spoke lowly, too much so for him to hear, and a moment later the vines spread open. Batman stared, eyes sharply taking in every feature he could, easing some of the frustration he'd had of not knowing what he looked like before.

He looked sickly and thin. His cheekbones stood out and there were dark bags under his eyes. He looked a little girly too, but not that much so, and it was probably something that would change as he gained more weight. His eyes were violet, of all colors, his hair white, and his lips were pale.

And covered in crisscrossing black threads like Ivy had said.

His eyes were wide and curious, and he was watching him. There was recognition there. Batman came closer. Ivy looked up at him, and then back at the young man. He was in his early twenties maybe. Maybe younger or older by a few years. It was hard to tell.

"This is Batman." Lamb looked to her and back again with a small nod. "You're going to go live with him for a while." He frowned slightly, and his hands clenched open and closed in a grasping motion. He met Ivy's gaze with wide, worried eyes. He didn't speak, but Ivy seemed to understand what was wrong. "I know, but he's not coming back for a while. It'll be okay. Come here." She opened her arms, and he went to her without hesitation. Batman watched the redhead pick him up effortlessly. He wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around her shoulders, hiding the bottom of his face in her shoulder like an oversized child...

And not even all that oversized. Lamb was about a full foot shorter than him, only a couple inches upwards of five feet.

Ivy turned to him, expression expectant, and he hesitantly signalled the tumbler to come closer.

He could feel a headache forming.

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.