It's the pain in my chest that hurts the most. A horrible tightening sensation that I'm all too familiar with. I groan as the world comes back into focus and the sound of the fun fair becomes clearer as I manage to stand up.

I take a moment to process everything I have just seen. Harley is sick. Seriously sick. And so am I. I imagine my face covered in rotten skin with blood in my mouth. I don't panic, I've always known deep down that being Batman would one day kill me - I made my peace with it long ago but it's the people of Gotham I worry for. Millions of people in Gotham General Hospital dying because Harley's contaminated blood. I can't let that happen.

"I'm listening", I say the phone Joker has strapped to my chest - he knew I wouldn't die from the fall.

"Is someone feeling a little down", he jokes.

"What do you want", I ask, my anger beginning to slip through. I don't have time for his wisecracks.

He tells me how Freeze was making a cure, but has somehow disappeared. It might be hard finding him, but telling Alfred Joker poisoned me was going to be harder. And hearing the pain in his voice would made it harder still.

But Alfred, ever my faithful butler tells me what I need to do and I track Freeze to the GCPD building through his heat signature, only to find how Penguin reached him first and has made the first move in the war with Joker.

It was going to be a long night and I'm already feeling tired.

"What do you think Pooh?" He asks.

I stare at the figure in front of me. The figure that looks so much like myself with peeling and blistering skin, but I can't bare to look at it. I try a smile and turn away.

"Well I think it's a doozy", he says, ignoring me and turing back around and smiling. "You are sure you want this job? I don't like washouts".

The figure in front smiles back and waves his hand dismissively. "Washouts aren't my style". Then he doubles over and coughs violently, mimicking the sounds I make when I cough. He then stands up and says "Hellllo, Batman!" In a crusty voice, again similar to my own.

He says it so perfectly I honestly mistake it for the real thing, almost believing my Puddin' is standing across the room as sick as I am, instead of sitting on the edge of my bed laughing and enjoying the spectacle in front of us.

"Try the blood", he orders.

The figure neatens the cuffs on the purple stripped suit and takes a breath before doubling over and coughing again, except this time he makes the noise louder as if he is struggling to breath and brings his hand away from his mouth, the white gloves of his fingers covered in a deep red.

"Oh Bravo!" He laughs, standing up and clapping. "That's just marvelous".

The figure takes another bow. It's so strange to see two of him - in any other situation I'd be happy to have a double dose of my favorite person in the world, but I don't like this. I'm frightened of where this gag will lead us, of what the others might do.

Penguin has been vying to be the best villain in Gotham for years, something he could never achieve since all of Gotham agrees the Joker holds that title. But if the word gets out the Clown Prince is sick, Penguin will be the first to try and knock the crown from his head and make himself king of Gotham's underworld, with the help of the bozos who will run to his side once they find out Joker might lose his throne.

It's too dangerous - danger is never something I've been worried about, but this whole plan makes my skin crawl. I'm too sick to be of any use and I worry for my Puddin' being without me.

I turn my head away from them both and think back to when I was first brought to Arkham City, when I first met Strange. He had told me how 'amusing' it would be for him to watch me find out how I became this way - I had been so focused on trying not to die I hadn't thought about it. Surely if I knew what this...disease?...Was, I could find a way to fix it. I was a doctor after all.

I tune out of the conversations and instructions across the room. How did I get this way? I can't think of anything I've eaten back in Arkham that the others haven't - surely if it was something in the food someone else would have this thing too, same with a virus or a type of bacteria. Why am I the only one with it?

Well, not the only one. Bats is sick too. But he said he was fine with both us dying, perhaps this time he will forsake his constant Hero Act and just let go. But we know he won't, he won't let the people in Gotham General die...but perhaps he will. If my blood does kill him there will be no way to find a cure. And then I will have to leave my Mr J. My eyes fill with tears, my vision goes slightly red. There must be blood in my eyes.

I'm tired by the time I get to the Museum, Penguin led me on a merry chase around Gotham to disable the jammers he had for protecting his signals. I couldn't get in with them active. It didn't take long, but it's still time I could be using to save Freeze. I won't go easy on Penguin's men when I finally find him.

It's too hot. I feel as if my skin is melting, dissolving slowly before my eyes as I fade away in my tropical prison.

I'm sure Penguin brought me here as a joke on the Joker, a stab to his pride and desperation for the cure he needs. He didn't say exactly why the cure was so important, but I could hazard a guess, wether he knows or not, word has got out about a sick figure in the Smelting Mill, a figure with rotten skin and blood filled blisters. As soon as Penguin got word, he knew I'd be the first to make the cure, Penguin needed me in his war against the Joker. With no cure the figure was dying, Joker was dying and this is the only time he would be weak enough for Penguin to attack.

I could hear the sound of someone moving around in the room outside and I knew this was Batman and that for whatever reason he was here, he would get me out of this place.

And he did. He walked over to me as I pressed my hands against the glass, trying to show how urgently I needed fresh air.

He noted my crisis and began to survey Penguin's war room, the place was full of other exhibit cages made for Penguin's enemies - the largest and most elaborate for the Joker, but once Batman came to open a door leading into another room, the biggest man I had ever seen smashed through the door.

With one arm and a large sickle, the man and a few others from Penguin's crew began to fight Batman.

It didn't take too long considering there was only one of Batman and once the last shout was over Batman finally freed me.

I stumbled across the sand into the darkened room, gasping and chocking on the cool air.

Batman grabbed my head, forcing me to look at him. He looked angrier than usual.

"Joker's cure", he growled. "Where is it?"

I could only gasp, the air cooling my skin. "Forget the Clown", I moaned. "I want Cobblepot". I wanted to make that midget pay for humiliating and degrading me. He took my suit and all my weapons, making a fool out of me. I wouldn't let him.

"Forget Cobblepot. He's mine. You need to focus on the cure". But I can't complete my work without my suit. Everything depends on getting my things back. Everything.

He told me Penguin has my gun and that he need to get past it, but I wouldn't tell him. I'm not a fool.

But Nora needs me. Batman didn't waste time waiting for me to answer, he grabbed the vile stuck in my heart to keep my body cool and pulled it out, pouring a little on the ground as I watched.

"STOP", I cried. If I died what would happen to my lovely Nora. We would be forever parted.

So I told him everything he needed to know.

And waited. Hoping we both survive this night.