Disclaimer: I wish I owned Batman Beyond.
Pale fingers blurred over the touch pad keyboard as words erupted from the glowing green buttons. He very deliberately did NOT slam his digits into the screen in his frustration. It was supposed to be a quiet evening at his apartment. Alone. Very, very much alone. He was busy, slag it, and he had shit to do. But, no.
"Hey Ghoul!" "Hey, Ghoulie!"
Two pairs of thin, firm arms wrapped around him in vice grips. His nostrils flaring was the only visible sign of irritation he granted his teammates. "What, DeeDee?" he drawled. Blue eyes, his contacts off like the rest of his costume, never left the screen.
The grips tightened, and Ghoul could practically hear the twins pout.
"Didn't you hear?" taunted Delia as she played with a lock of his hair.
(At least he thought it was Delia. The doll like girls each had their tells, but sometimes they switched it up.)
"There's a meeeeee-ting!" sang Deidre as she snuggled into his shoulder.
Ghoul finally gave in, and pushed away from the computer with a loud huff. He wanted to glare at the twins, he really did. They'd been insufferably clingy since they'd escaped their grandmother after the Joker incident.
Chucko was still locked up since he'd been a legal adult at the time and the GCPD had pressed felony charges. Woof had gone underground for weeks to avoid the cops and the inevitable genetic reconstruction treatment he'd undergo if they ever caught him. He was currently lounging on Ghoul's tattered couch across the room, but the hacker had honestly wondered for a while if he would ever see the hyena splicer again. And Bonk was…
…
Well, Bonk was dead, wasn't he?
Ghoul shuddered at the memory. Bonk hadn't been nice and certainly hadn't been clever by any stretch of the imagination, but he'd been a reliable teammate. With enough mouth to get him in trouble and (until the end) enough muscle to get him back out of it; he had been the front guy for their gang. And now he was somewhere in a landfill. The police had never gotten to that particular hide-out and Ghoul had been too busy avoiding the city wide crackdown to make it back before the garbage men to recover his friend's body.
Slag it.
He turned his attention back to the twins. "How, exactly, is there a meeting?" he demanded. "Everyone's here already, or is that what you meant?" Because really, who knew what these two thought anymore?
Deidre scoffed from his shoulder. "No silly!"
Delia tugged hard on the piece of hair she had. He swatted at her, and she danced out of the way as usual. "Of all the Jokerz!" she bubbled.
"It's out in the old cemetery near Arkham!" Deidre tugged him back her way.
Ghoul was going to get whiplash if they kept this up.
"Called by a Joker King!" Delia cheered. She grabbed his arm again.
""So get dressed!"" they both commanded and literally threw the gangly teen toward a scuffed up wardrobe.
Ghoul stumbled over the chair he'd been sitting in and landed on the worn linoleum on his ass. He stomped upright. "Whoa, whoa, and WHOA!" He shot his arms up as a barrier between himself and DeeDee, who had been preparing to launch themselves at him again. For once, they actually stopped.
"First off," he snapped "It's three fuckin' o' clock in the morning. I go nowhere. Second!" He held up a finger in each face. "Since when do Jokerz have kings?" He sneered at them. "The actual Joker was bad enough, and you want to go after someone else slagged enough in the head to call himself a king?!" He did not get hysterical; he did not. But if he did it would be completely justified.
DeeDee exchanged painted, wide-eyed glances that quickly turned smug. Ghoul backed away on instinct. From the couch, Woof's ears were vigilantly pricked. Ghoul could only hope he'd intervene if DeeDee got pushy.
"What's the matter, Ghoul?" "What's wrong, Ghoulie-woulie?" They twirled around him in a demented ballet. ""Lost your nerve?""
He glared, wishing they whole time he still had his black contacts in for the intimidation factor. "Do you two not remember what happened a couple months ago?" he demanded.
"Might know a thing or two," mocked Deidre.
"Seeing as we were there," snickered Delia.
"More useful than you were."
"As always."
"The Joker!"
"Crashed a warehouse."
"Crashed a party."
"Crashed another party!"
"Can't forget that one."
Ghoul scoffed at them. "No, can't forget that at all. Just like you can't forget the laser beam. Or Batman. Or Bonk!"
Mary, Mother of God, they actually looked upset at the accusation. Ghoul leveled a glare at them, ignoring the perfect, practiced pouts. "No." He pointed his finger at one, then the other. "Not after the disaster last time. Just no. Give the Commissioner time to cool her heels after our last stunt or juvie will be the least of our worries."
DeeDee gave each other exasperated side-long glances.
"Guess he's not coming, DeeDee."
"Seems so, DeeDee."
""Boring!""
And they danced out of the apartment, not bothering to shut the door.
Woof cautiously poked his head out after them, snuffling. He quirked his ears toward the taller teen when Ghoul grabbed for the door handle. Woof cocked his head in silent query, 'Are we going after them?'
Ghoul glared into the dim hallway before jerking the door shut.
"Not a slaggin' chance."
O.O.O
Ring! Ring!
""Leave a meeeeeess~age!""
Ring! Ring!
""Leave a meeeeeess~age!""
"Slaggin' idiots, one of you pick up the fraggin' phone!" Ghoul shrieked. He slammed the older model cell phone on the coffee table. "Why won't they answer?!" he rounded on Woof, who barely flicked an ear and yawned.
It was nearly noon, and Ghoul hadn't heard so much as a peep from DeeDee. He'd been expecting the twins to bounce in at the crack of dawn, waking him up, stealing his coffee, and gushing madly over whatever cute boy had caught their interest this time.
He never realized he'd prefer the cacophony to the eerie silence their absence created. He'd woken up, groggy as hell around ten, and had been calling them every twenty minutes since he'd been coherent enough to remember their visit last night. Every single time, he got their chirpy ass voicemail, and the lump in his gut was getting colder and colder.
He stared at the phone on the table for a good five minutes, weighing his options. Finally, he reached down and tapped in a new number. It rang three times before an elderly voice offered, "Hello?"
"Hey," Ghoul swallowed heavily, "Nana Harley, it's me…"
O.O.O
It was now three in the afternoon, and Ghoul was officially worried. DeeDee had been gone for twelve measly hours, but it nagged at him. Their grandma hadn't seen them and, worse, none of the other Jokerz he knew were answering their phones either. Hell, then he'd even called Terminal! The guy was still in juvie! Talk about an awkward conversation; and it had netted him zero results. The online forums were dead and the police frequencies gave him no clues.
Something was wrong.
Ghoul didn't get gut feelings often, but when he did he listened. His eyes strayed to the jack-o-lantern tote on the kitchen counter. Instantly, his mind was made up. He strode across the tiny flat, tugging contraband out of nooks and crannies as he went. He poured it all into the pumpkin and snatched it off the counter.
"Woof!" he called.
Woof jolted up from the couch. If he had been expecting action, however, he was sadly disappointed. Ghoul calmly commanded the splicer to "Pack!", and proceeded to toss his own clothes, wizard hat and all, into a duffel bag fished out of the closet. A wallet, the odd photo, and what little food he had tucked in his cabinets tumbled in after. His computer and tech gear went into a separate, more durable satchel. Ghoul went through the apartment meticulously, opening and emptying every crack, hidden compartment, and hidey-hole.
o.o.o
It was now just after five, but Ghoul still hadn't left his flat. A small pile of bags were strewn haphazardly next to the front door, waiting to be carted down to the parking garage. The only thing of (possible) value left in the small apartment was the television. Over thirty years old with a blown speaker and green bar permanently etched in the right side of LED screen, the outdated machine doggedly churned out the local news on GPB 13.
Ghoul was perched over the back of the couch, leaning half over Woof and paying the static only half attention. His thumb flickered in a rehearsed pattern over the digital buttons on his phone.
Contact two. Dial.
Ring! Ring!
""Leave a meeeeeess~age!""
Contact two. Dial.
Ring! Ring!
""Leave a meeeeeess~age!""
Woof whined from the sofa and Ghoul let a sigh rattle out of his chest as cold dread settled in. The twins considered their phone to be a sacred necessity; they'd never lost it before no matter the situation. And even if they were ticked off enough at Ghoul to ignore the dozens of calls he'd made in the past few hours, they'd have to be slagged to not answer their grandmother.
Nana Harley was no joke.
And to make matters even worse, ALL the other Jokerz in Gotham were similarly missing. Ghoul had been forced to turn to the wider network of Gotham's underbelly in his increasingly desperate search for his teammates. He'd gone through a terse conversation with the one member of the T gang that didn't try to kill him on sight and then had a surprisingly pleasant tit-a-tat full of innuendo with a schway blonde from the diner on Old Sixth Street. Not only had no one seen DeeDee, no one had seen any of the out-of-towner Jokerz that had been cruising through either. Ghoul had completely exhausted his contact list. At this point, he was only waiting for a call back from Nana Harley, who had promised to call up some people she knew herself.
Ghoul was in the middle of dialing DeeDee's number yet again when Woof suddenly growled and his ears pricked up to the left. He froze and a moment later heard what Woof had honed in on.
The dull, crumpled BOOM of an explosion.
The instinct to flee warred with cold, hard experience. It was loud, a big explosion to be sure, but distant. His apartment wouldn't be affected and staying put would likely be less hassle than trying to wade through emergency services and the GCPD that were sure to accompany them.
The news blared to life with the recent events and Ghoul's stomach fell through to the basement. He gasped, and Woof mewled outright, as GPB 13 rolled footage of a Joker blowing himself up. Bile rose in his throat, both at the unedited carnage and at the thought pounding in his head.
I know him. I know him. I know him.
Weasel, his mind supplied. Purple hair, pink coat, the guy was part of Terminal's gang. Frag it, he'd just~
Another explosion thudded through the air, BOOM, closer this time. His windows rattled. Ghoul clambered over the sofa as video clip after video clip started airing on the news.
BOOM. BOOM.
Ghoul watched in horror as the news showed Joker after Joker launch themselves into oblivion. He couldn't help the twisted relief that came when he didn't recognize any more of the suicidal gang members.
Ring! Ring!
Ghoul blinked at his phone. Who was..? Nana Harley! He scrambled to pick up.
"Ghoul, sweetie, tell me you're not still at your place!" The old lady sounded uncharacteristically stern.
He swallowed heavily, not quite able to talk yet after the news videos. She must have heard him.
"Now you listen to me!" she commanded, "You need to get out of there! Out of Gotham entirely! NOW!"
Her tone demanded obedience, but Ghoul could barely comprehend the words. "But, DeeDee..."
"My girls are smart little cookies," Nana Harley swore, "They'll get themselves through this. I got an old friend lookin' for 'em. But Ghoulie, listen! They way things are goin'~"
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
"Gah!" she recovered, "The way things are goin', there ain't gonna be a lot of Jokerz left in Gotham when this is over!"
BOOM.
"And Ghoulie, I know the Commish!" He heard keys jangling in the background. "You won't want to be one of them! Get goin' kiddo!"
Ghoul looked up to see Woof holding his car keys out to him. He also had most of the bags slung over his shoulders; only Ghoul's computer bag and the jack-o-lantern remained next to the door. He got up.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"Nana Harley," he choked, "Do you need a ride?"
"GO!" she demanded. "This old lady has tricks of her own!"
There was a disturbing cackle before the connection cut off with a click!
Ghoul snatched his keys from Woof's outstretched claws and rushed to pick up his bag.
"Come on!"
~Owari~
Author's notes: In case some of you are confused, this is meant as a side to the '10,000 Clowns' comic. I was surprised to find that DeeDee had cameos in the comic and wondered what the rest of their gang was doing. So, this.
*edit*
Just fixed some minor grammatical mistakes. Nothing really changed; they just irked me.