"Flutter, flutter, my little Bat
Oh, but I wonder where you're at
Lookie, lookie, there in the sky
A big ole symbol telling you to fly!
Are you going to investigate my haunted house?
Or will you just creep along, silent as a mouse?
C'mon, Bats, head to your favorite street
And see how I've left you a Halloween treat!"
His face shone bone white beneath the glow of a fat autumn moon and the hundreds of lights affixed to the huge Ferris wheel presiding over Gotham's Boardwalk. Nobody paid any special attention to the singer of this particularly witty little ditty, though.
Not that his appearance would have invited comments from any of the costumed passersby.
Those who walked by him assumed he was just searching for some Halloween fun. They didn't see his garishly painted mouth, stained a wicked shade of crimson, curl back into a slippery sneer as his bright green eyes searched the rooftops for signs of his most favorite playmate.
They just passed by him, smiling at him through their cheap plastic masks and gobs of face paint, completely unaware that the green-haired man who skipped along the promenade with the flocks of glittering fairies, cackling witches, refined vampires, shiny robots, gruesome ghouls, mewing kitty cats, howling werewolves, screaming ghosts was not another costumed Gothamite out trick and treating.
Most of them had no clue what the Clown Prince of Crime even looked like.
Not that they cared to know.
Why should they worry about the Joker walking among them? Why be concerned about the Joker being out looking to do what he did best: introduce Gotham to a little bit of anarchy?
Batman and Robin were there to make sure nothing happened to them or their city.
They never once considered how the Dynamic Duo could not be everywhere. They simply couldn't imagine Halloween seeing the Scarecrow poison an entire ward of Arkham with his patented fear toxin or Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy deciding to do a far more volatile reenactment of Thelma & Louise.
They had no idea that Two-Face and Penguin had decided to engage in open warfare down at Gotham Docks or that Mr. Freeze took over an abandoned warehouse to find a cure for his beloved wife, Nora.
No, the good people of Gotham didn't once suspect that their silent guardians wouldn't be available to stop whatever the Joker planned.
Every now and again whatever was inside the burlap bag the Joker carried moved. Exactly what the something moving about was, was anybody's guess. Given the clown's violent proclivity and diabolical methods, it certainly wasn't good.
"Nice costume," a man dressed like the Tin Man called out in passing. "My, but you look almost like the real Joker!"
"Why, thank you, my good fellow!" The Joker called back, never once breaking his stride as he left the area of Gotham known as Amusement Mile and began to make his way towards the section best known as Crime Alley.
His dark purple trench coat flapped behind him like a pair of leathery wings, revealing a royal purple merino suit over a snowy white dress shirt and stylish brocade vest covered in black spades, clubs, gray hearts, and diamonds. His tie was an orange and black striped affair with a tiny silver stickpin in the shape of a bat affixed to it.
The heels of his black and white wingtips clicked on the cobblestone like one of those joke-shop chattering teeth he so loved to use.
Nails on a chalkboard were less aggravating.
He crossed into Crime Alley a few minutes later.
Traffic in this part of the city was non-existent. The roads were all mostly one-way, the cobblestone streets too narrow to allow cars to safely travel in both directions.
Not that it would have mattered.
A cavalcade of abandoned vehicles, broken glass, garbage cans with busted boards burning, crack pipes and other debris littering the ground made the roads impassable.
A vicious brawl erupted at the end of a side street between a couple of hulking hoodlums. The Joker paused to watch, his face shining with malevolent delight as men in black baklavas and knit ski masks with white eye and mouth holes started throwing vicious punches at each other while their respected teammates cheered from the sidelines.
The sounds of fists meeting flesh echoed off the grimy walls. Blood splattered across the lids of rusty dumpsters and trash cans, splattered the cobblestone and splashed across the sides of the buildings. Frightened rats scurried from beneath piles of refuse to find safety beneath boxes dumped by the back door of an old milliner's shop.
A scruffy orange tomcat screeched as it came out of where it was feasting on a rat behind a pile of boxes.
After watching the free-for-all for another moment, his crimson mouth spread wide in a toothy grin, the Joker resumed his journey. He made his way from one side of the district to another with the ease and comfort of a man who knew exactly where it was he was going. And, why shouldn't he be comfortable here? a masked figure mused while they followed the clown from a safe distance.
For the Joker, the streets of Crime Alley were home. He had been born here. He knew every twist, turn and dark hole by heart.
And he used his knowledge of the streets to carry out whatever agenda he set his mind upon.
The Joker skidded to a halt at the entrance of a dark alley and cackled one long, slippery laugh. Alarm bells went off inside his silent watcher's head. Their eyes narrowed to thin slits as they swept the alleys for any clue as to what drew his attention.
The Joker looked left, right, and even behind him. They zeroed in on him and saw his eyes glinted with fiendish glee and malicious intent. Nothing unusual, they decided. The Joker found joy in pain and inflicted it wherever he went.
He giggled as he skipped down the alley.
They followed him, moving from gargoyle to gargoyle, and railing to railing.
What was causing him this much amusement? they wondered, frowning. The possibilities were endless. Their brow puckered when they realized just what alley this was a second later. Why is he so amused about coming here? What significance does this place have for him?
To anybody else, this would just be any other alley in Gotham. However, they knew that three years before, a twelve-year-old boy named Jason Todd tried to boost the tires on the Batmobile in this very alley.
Jason's life changed because of those events.
Batman chased the boy down, drug him back to the Batcave and gave him the opportunity of a lifetime: to become his partner and protégé.
Jason became much more than Robin that night.
He also became Bruce Wayne's son.
For three years, Jason served as Robin. His manner of dealing with criminals wasn't always in line with the tenets that Batman went by. His early life hardened him, gave him a morally ambiguous code of honor, and set him at odds with both his mentor and the man who wore the costume before him.
Then came a night that forever changed Batman.
An abandoned warehouse in Ethiopia.
Robin left bleeding on a dirty floor.
An explosion that rocked the night.
A father forever tormented by grief and guilt because he failed to save his son from the monster in the dark.
It is not a coincidence that the Joker chose to walk down this alley, they realized, stomach churning with a mixture of disgust and grief.
No, the Joker wasn't one to believe in chance or luck.
His reasoning for choosing this alley would be much, much more sinister in nature.
And it most likely has something to do with Batman, the masked watcher thought as they perched atop a stone fixture.
They continued to watch until the deranged clown crouched beside something trussed up like a turkey. Instantly on alert, they used the filters in their mask to zero in on the squirming figure, taking in the neon green pixie shorts, matching ankle boots, red and yellow tunic, and a black cape with a yellow underbelly.
He's not Tim, they told themselves over and over as they dropped onto a wrought iron railing to get a better view.
Exactly who he was, they didn't know.
Not that it mattered.
He was in the hands of the most nefarious of all of Gotham's élite criminals. It made rescuing him their one, and only, priority. The silent guardian reached up to tap their earpiece.
"Fenix to Batman."
There were a couple of clicks in her ear less than a second later and then a familiar rasp asked, "What is it, Fenix?"
"The Joker has a boy dressed as Robin tied up in an alley." She blinked her eyes twice to zero in on the clown with the filters in her mask. "I am not sure what he has planned but it can't be anything good."
She heard a soft hum and felt her lips creak upwards into a smile. She could almost picture the Dark Knight perched atop a gargoyle, his eyes narrowed in speculation and his cape fluttering behind him like a pair of bat wings.
"Do not engage the Joker." There was a moment's pause. "I am on my way."
"Roger that," Fenix replied as she saw the boy lift wide, fearful eyes to the Clown Prince of Crime. "I will continue to watch while waiting for you to arrive."
A muffled shriek came from the boy as the Joker leaned down to him.
"Aw, aren't you dressed in just the most adorable little costume?" he purred. "Did you wear it just for your Uncle J? Hm?" He tilted his head to the side. "Well, did'ja?"
The boy remained silent. A slight tremble to his small frame was the only sign of just how terrified he was. Not that she could blame him. Anybody with half a brain would be terrified at finding themselves nose-to-nose with a man as volatile and unpredictable as the Joker.
"Aw." The Joker pouted playfully. "Why so serious?"
His lips peeled back in a huge grin that caused a wave of nausea to roll thick and greasy through her belly. She breathed out a curse and swallowed back the bile that foamed into her mouth. If he dares touch the boy…
"Is it meeting your Uncle J that has you so nervous?" A slight nod was the boy's only response. "Relax, my darling boy! We're about to have us some Halloween fun!" The Joker cackled. "In fact, we're gonna play a little trick on Batman." He considered the masked crusader for a moment. "Now, you want to help your Uncle J play a trick on Batman, don'cha?"
The boy did not offer up a reply this time. Not that the Joker really expected one. No, he was more concerned with continuing his mind game. He'd continue terrorizing the boy until it was no longer fun. The boy must have sensed that was what the Joker was about because he kept his eyes locked upon him.
He made no move whatsoever.
Not that he could, bound as he was by the ropes used to tie him up with.
"Oh, fine," the clown grumbled when it became obvious he wasn't going to get any sort of response from the boy. "Since you're being such a party popper, I'm gonna leave."
Anger simmered below a thin level of disdain for what the Joker was doing to the boy. It was clear the costumed child was nothing more than a toy to the demented clown. She was no fool. She knew what the Joker planned to do with the costumed boy.
It was a well-known fact that the Joker wanted to overthrow those pesky little morals Batman had. The clown had long attempted to use Robin as his way of awakening Batman to the truth: that he was just as crazy as the rest of Gotham's criminal élite.
The plan, as much as she hated to admit it, was an absolutely brilliant one. Everyone knew that if the Joker ever managed to get his skeletal hands on Robin and kill him, Batman would break. Not that she planned on allowing that to ever happen.
No more than she would allow the Harlequin of Hate to use a boy dressed as Robin as his means of luring the Dark Knight into whatever trap he had waiting for him. Much like the Dark Knight took his role as Gotham's silent protector very seriously, so too did she take her job of ensuring that Robin - even one dressed like him - made it home safe and sound.
"You stay here in this nice, dark alley like a good little boy," the Joker crooned to him. "Oh, and do continue to be quiet." He wagged one long finger at the boy. "Can't have the big man or one of his flying rodents finding you before the festivities get underway, now can we?" He cackled softly. "Oh, and should the big guy actually find you before I return to start the party?" He paused for dramatic effect. "Well, just tell him I said..." He spun in a circle, his coat fanning out behind him like wings. "Happy Halloween!"
He then turned away, his scarlet lips stretched wide, and started to stroll from the alley. A fat black cat scooted around the corner, paused, and seeing the lunatic coming towards him, raced for cover beneath a dumpster.
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," the Joker playfully whispered.
A solitary mew that she translated as the cat telling the Clown Prince of Crime he could kiss its black ass emerged from beneath the dumpster. The Joker's high, keening laugh sounded, disturbing some bats flying overhead. They chirped as they disappeared over a rooftop.
The Joker melted into the night, reciting his macabre ditty under his breath once more.
"Flutter, flutter, my little Bat..."
As soon as the Clown Prince disappeared around the side of the building, she scrambled over a pile of garbage and other debris to race to the boy. He blinked his non-blackened eye wide when he spied her and began to make excited utterances behind the filthy rag stuffed in his mouth.
"Sh." She knelt beside him. "We must be very quiet. The Joker is still nearby."
He mumbled something she couldn't make out and began to thrash back and forth.
"It's okay," she said as she undid the ropes around his ankles. "The Joker won't hurt you anymore." She pulled the rag from his mouth and tossed it away. "I promise."
"Wh-who are you?" he asked in a small, tremulous voice. "How did you find me?"
Time was of the essence. She needed to get him somewhere safe before coming back to help Batman and Robin with stopping whatever the Joker had planned. However, she spared a moment to reply to his questions.
"I'm Fenix."
"Fenix?" Awe tinged his voice. "You work for Batman?"
"I do, yes." She dropped her voice an octave. A conspirator's tone. "I'm friends with Robin."
"You are?"
"Mhm." She rose to her feet and held out a gloved hand to him. "Shall we be away, Mr...?"
She left the question to dangle purposely. It was a technique she learned from her uncle, James Gordon. Interrogating without seeming to interrogate. Acquiring facts without seeming overly invested in the information. It lulled people into a false sense of security and caused them to either slip-up or reveal what they might not have otherwise.
"Paul." He set one of his hands in hers and allowed her to pull him up to his feet. "But the people at the orphanage call me Jesus."
"And why do they call you Jesus?"
His thin shoulders lifted into a faint shrug. "'Cause I'm always saving the littler boys from the bigger ones who like to pick on 'em."
The words were uttered low, forcefully. A look at his face showed a quiet rage simmering in the depths of his blue-green eyes. So, she mused as she adjusted his cape. That's why he chose to dress as Robin. He wants to protect the small and helpless from the monsters in the dark.
She could relate to that.
It's why she chose to become Fenix.
"Well, it sounds to me like you're a superhero in training," she said as she reached for the grapnel gun attached to her utility belt. "Because we're always saving people from the monsters in the dark."
"Like when Batman saved all those folks from the Scarecrow?"
"Yep." She sent him an easy smile. "Or like when Robin stopped a group of boys from beating up a smaller one just for being different."
His mouth turned down at the corners.
"They pick on me 'cause I'm different." He looked down at his feet. "Call me names, take my stuff. All 'cause I'm not like them."
"Well, after tonight, they'll know not to pick on you." She set a hand on his shoulder. "And they won't take your stuff anymore, either."
"Why?" he asked curiously. "They ain't gonna stop 'cause you tell them."
"Then I'll make sure they understand that if I hear about you being picked on that I will send Batman and Robin after them."
His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. She found herself enchanted by him. For a minute, she considered taking him to her apartment. He needs a home and I have one. She couldn't do that, though. She risked revealing who she was, and who the others were if she took him home while still in her Fenix gear.
I could have Alfred take him to the Manor…
"You will have Batman and Robin beat them up?"
"I will even call Nightwing." She smiled as she imagined his reaction to being nominated for bully patrol. Not that he wouldn't do it. He hated bullies as much as they did. "He'll teach them a lesson they won't ever forget."
"Why you gonna have them help me?"
"I have a particular soft spot for Robin's."
"But I'm not Robin."
"You're wearing his costume," she pointed out. "Makes you an unofficial Robin. And it's my job to see that Robin gets home safe every night." She settled an arm around him. "Hold tightly to me now."
He curled his small arms around her waist without uttering another word. She fired a line at the ledge she perched on earlier. She felt the line go taut, knew it grabbed hold and counted the heartbeats before they were airborne.
There were two.
A/N: Hi there, and welcome! Getting the legal out of the way, I own nothing that looks like it belongs to someone else.
This piece is an extended scene from the flashback I used in chapter 21 of Presents. It gives a bit more detail and information than I used in the flashback (and includes the Joker, who I deleted since Presents wasn't intended as an official crossover).
Please, if you like this piece, favorite it!