Oh. She's still there.
Well. He's not going to leave. She can leave. Fuck her. He's not going anywhere.
The Joker curls up with him, wishes away his clothes and knives as an afterthought, pulls up a blanket for extra snuggle factor, and settles into comfortable silence.
"I love her because she's different," he says slowly. "In Gotham she was... a legend. A scary story to tell the kids at bedtime. But she was real. And it was amazing, just knowing there was somebody out there like that, with the brains and the balls to terrify every criminal in the city. There's no way she could ever love me back. I think I might even be disappointed if she did. She loves Gotham, though, that's for sure. It's sweet, the way she feels about that place, it really is."
Nathan's arms tighten fractionally around him. "And then she killed me and nothing changed?"
He reflects a moment, then adds, "I'm never going back to Gotham now, though, that's for damn sure."
"I might kill her if I see her again," says Nathan quietly. "I'd try not to. I don't want to make you sad. But I might."
"Do you want me to stick close when you're in Milliways? So I can remind you not to, if you see her again?"
Nathan hesitates, then nods once. "You can stop me without killing me, at least," he says mirthlessly.
"Mm. Distractions," murmurs Nathan. "...Babe. What if we'd brought Kerron in here? The way she looked at you - I don't have a fragment of a clue what she'd do if she met your son."
"She wouldn't hurt him," he says. "She might... try to take him away for his own good. But she wouldn't hurt him."
"I know, sweetie," he says. "You could scoop him up and run away, and I could scoop him up and teleport away, and even if he came here by himself, I bet he could get away from her just fine. We made ourselves a smart little munchkin."