Dentist

"Stand back!" The SWAT officer shoved a curious doctor away. "Even chained, he's highly dangerous and erratic."

And erratic he was. Despite the obviously unfunny scenario he was presently in, the Joker's shrieking cackles echoed through the asylum's hallways. Blood was dripping down his lip, making it impossible to tell whether his face was contorted in mirth or pain. His feet kicked wildly as though he was unable to control his own body. The frightening image had quite the effect on several Arkham doctors: the color had drained from their faces and one unfortunate gentleman had wet his pants.

Dr. Jeremiah Arkham and Dr. John Reko stood outside the empty cell that would soon hold the Joker. A pack of the most muscular orderlies that could be scrounged up waited nearby should he attempt anything funny (to him) like he had at MCU.

Fortunately, nothing of the sort happened. The Joker was entrusted to three large orderlies, who held him while a trembling nurse shot a strong sedative into his arm.

He crumpled over immediately, unconscious.

Dr. Reko's eyebrows shot up. Huh. I wasn't expecting that. The man that held all of Gotham captive could have been stopped in seconds with one little sedative? He glanced over at Dr. Arkham, noting that his eyebrows were furrowed in worry.

Now that he thought about it, Dr. Reko realized that there was something a bit off about the whole scenario. Most drugs usually took a minute or two to fully kick in –not the instant that the needle injected the medicine. Could he be pretending? Even the orderlies seemed a bit taken aback as they dragged him into his cell and removed the handcuffs and overcoat before forcing his torso into a straightjacket.

However, he hadn't budged an inch since he had been sedated. Not even when his handcuffs had briefly been off so the straightjacket could be put on. It would have been an ideal escape time, and the fact that he hadn't tried to was… comforting. Maybe all it really takes to bring down a raving anarchist is a little bit of sedative. It was a nice thought, and certainly something he'd keep in mind if the Joker ever ended up in his office. Dr. Reko wasn't a shrink –he was a dentist. Looking through the plexiglas window, Dr. Reko again noticed the blood. Hopefully it wasn't from his mouth. It would take some time to mentally prepare for a patient as unsettling as this one.

A small cough called Reko's attention back to the asylum's director. Dr. Arkham's worried expression had intensified, if anything. Clearly the Joker's complacence wasn't putting his fears at ease at all. Arkham adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat again before turning to Reko.

"Well," he sighed, "it's clear that he needs medical attention. However, I don't know if it can wait until we're better equipped to deal with it, or if there's actually a life threatening problem." Arkham peered through the glass again. The Joker hadn't even shifted on the cot he had been placed on, leaving Reko to wonder again if it could possibly be an act –there was no way having a leg twisted that much could be comfortable. His attention was jerked back to Arkham again when he continued speaking. "Batman really roughed him up. Despite the… unsettling nature of his docility, I won't allow my own fear to leave him there if he really is that hurt. Still… I'd prefer to wait another five minutes to make sure that the sedative has taken effect; even if he was faking originally, I'm not sure I can say he will be then."

The next five minutes were filled with the idle mutters of nurses and doctors, focusing –of course- on the newest patient. Rumors were one thing… but these discussions were straight up fallacy. Reko found himself glancing at the clock frequently, almost anxious to get into the Joker's cell. At least if he was in there, he wouldn't have to hear one more nurse swear that she had seen Harvey Dent passionately kiss first the Joker and then the Batman after the crazy car/semi/Bat-thing chase several evenings before. I mean really, it's not like the D.A. had some severe split personality disorder where he's attracted to the worst of the bad and the best of the good.

Arkham pushed himself off the wall and called two orderlies over. "Well, now is as good a time as ever." He sighed deeply before extracting his keycard and swiping it.

The door slid open.

Both the doctors and orderlies entered the cell cautiously, but there was no ground for concern. There were no hidden knives, no matches, no cell phone bombs… nothing, really. Arkham leaned over his patient and examined him closely, noting the various injuries as he went. "The wrist is obviously displaced. That will have to be set. Cuts and bruises don't seem too deep. Ooh, that's a nasty gash. Possible internal bleeding in the abdomen." Arkham moved up to his head, wincing a little as he surveyed the damage. "Even without that makeup, he'd have a black eye," he chuckled. "Nose is broken. Split lip." He pulled a rubber glove from his pocket and put it on before pulling back the Joker's lip. "Well, that's at least one broken tooth, and the rest are in need of obvious care. Do you have any openings tomorrow afternoon, John?"

Ah, crap. Just what I didn't want. "Uh, sure. I think so? You know, maybe not. I might be full. A later date might be better…"

Dr. Arkham just glared at him. Dr. Reko wasn't particularly skilled at lying, and this was a perfect example. "You'll see him tomorrow afternoon. I'll let you know when. Do you have any more appointments today?" Dr. Reko shook his head. "Good. Take the rest of the day off: head home, relax, and get a good night's sleep. I expect you to be bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow." The asylum director strolled out of the room.

On the way home, Dr. Reko began to mentally berate himself. Should've just said no the first time. What's with this "maybe" junk? Nothing says liar like "maybe"…

However, no amount of chastising could change the future. He was just going to have to accept that he would be seeing the Joker tomorrow, he thought as he uneasily drifted off to sleep.

When two o'clock rolled around the next day, Dr. Reko was exhausted. A schizophrenic patient had convinced himself that dentists had some kind of magical mind control technology in their drills, and that they installed mind control chips when they fixed cavities. Having the patient see Jervis Tetch walk down the hall hadn't helped the matter.

So, while Dr. Reko struggled to pry his patient's mouth open, his dread built and built. At two, he had bags under his eyes and a few scratches on his hand from the schizophrenic's very sharp incisors. If all he had heard about the Joker was true, then he would use Dr. Reko's weariness to his advantage: maybe in a possible escape attempt.

The door opened, and Joker was dragged in; both his wrists and ankles were cuffed. He was thrown haphazardly in the chair, giggling as his handcuffs were switched for clamps on the chair.

His head lolled to the side after he was fully bound, his dark eyes looking up at Dr. Reko. He giggled again before speaking. "Sooo, ya here to fix me up, doc? Make my teeth all shiny and pretty. Well, uh, I just thought you should know, I've got some excellent canines at home and with me." He jerked his head right. "This one's Bud." He jerked his head left. "This one's Lou."

Dr. Reko was baffled. He'd never had a patient name their teeth before. Then again… the Joker could be screwing with his head. It was quite plausible, actually. He cleared his throat. "Today, I'm going to remove-"

"Couldn't help but notice your name when I passed the door. Doctor J. Reko."

Reko cleared his throat again. "As I was saying, I'm going to remove your broken tooth and give you a thorough cleaning. We'll find out if you have cavities at a later point-"

"Ooh, sounds fun!"

"-and if you do, we'll fix them then. I will give you a toothbrush, some toothpaste, and some floss at the end of your appointment. I hope that you will use them during your stay here."

A small woman was walking past the room when Dr. Reko called out to her. "Quinzel! Could you bring me the Joker's file? I'll need to document this appointment." The woman jerked to a stop and stared into the room for a second. The Joker caught her gaze and grinned. She blushed and nodded quickly before scuttling away.

Reko picked a syringe up off of his tray of tools. "I'm going to inject you with this sedative so that you won't feel a thing. Removing broken teeth can be quite painful, but you should sleep right through it. All right?" Reko felt a twinge of uncertainty as the Joker nodded, almost eagerly.

The needle pierced the Joker's arm and his head drooped onto his chest within seconds. Huh. Guess he really does just react that strongly to sedatives. I'll have to suggest that to Batman if he's ever forgiven for Dent's murder… Huh. The Joker looks kind of pathetic, actually.

Feeling completely calm, Reko was opening the Joker's jaw as Dr. Quinzel returned with the Joker's file. He mumbled a quick thanks to her as she left, and then he turned his attention back to the Joker's mouth.

Being a dentist, he loved seeing healthy and clean teeth. As such, seeing the Joker's teeth was a scarring experience. His teeth were yellowed, stained so badly that he doubted even Kim Kardashian style whitening could return the teeth to even an off white. His gums were red and irritated. Little chips were present on a few teeth. Jesus. Reko turned his attention to the broken tooth.

It was one of the back molars, and Reko used three fingers from his right hand to hold the mouth open while he probed the molar with his other thumb. The tooth seemed off somehow. It didn't look like the stereotypical broken tooth –the break was too clean, but the top was somehow still attached to the bottom. It almost looked like a cap… He lifted the top off and was surprised to find some kind of mechanism.

The Joker's eyes snapped open. His jaw snapped shut.

Dr. Reko's screams echoed through the asylum.

He yanked back his hand; a tear in the latex revealed that the fingers that had been in the Joker's mouth had –or almost had- been severed.

"Surprise!" The Joker opened his mouth again, and probed the broken tooth with his tongue. A green gas sprayed into the room, and Reko collapsed over laughing.

Ten minutes later, the Joker was sitting in his cell when his favorite person dropped by.

"Batsy!" The Joker grinned. "Finally here to finish me off? I told you madness was like gravity, all you need is a little push… And I think you gave that push to, ah, Harvey." He sat back. "Two-Face? Is that what he was calling himself in the end? Tragic, really…"

Batman growled. He wouldn't rise to the bait. "No matter how many people you injure, I still won't kill you."

The Joker tilted his head to the side curiously. His voice raised an octave. "Then why are you here?" He dropped the singsong manner as he plowed ahead. "Wanna talk about Doctor Reko? I was so nervous before my appointment. Anxiety is a real nail biter." He grinned. "You know, I was thinking of giving him a ring on the phone. Maybe give him a few pointers on dentistry. I'm sure his philosophy and mine can meet in the middle. Wouldn't want to completely change his practice. Then it would look like he was under my thumb. Dontchya think?"

He was suddenly lifted into the air by the collar of his jumpsuit. Batman shook him vigorously. "You'll never win, Joker," he growled. "Our world won't fall into chaos no matter how many people you kill."

"Hm. Maybe our world won't, but our asylum already has." Batman looked out the window at the insanity of the asylum –no pun intended. Someone had escaped, and the guards were searching high and low for the escaped inmate. Nurses rushed back and forth with medical supplies for Dr. Reko's hands. Several people were pointing into the Joker's cell right at that moment, but they weren't pointing at the Joker –they were pointing at Batman.

Batman dropped the Joker on his cot and slammed the door closed before he took off running towards the nearest window, shoving aside the many orderlies that tried to grab him.

The Joker watched him calmly as he jumped onto a nearby tree, nearly falling off when the wind blew. "Rock a bye, Batsy, in the treetop, when the wind blows…" His voice trailed off as the sedative finally kicked in, leaving him only somewhat drowsy. He picked up his new toothbrush and began to brush.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Did anyone catch the BTAS reference with the doctor's name? Reviews are always welcome!