Funeral Pyre

"Dr. Quinzel, we have been over this a thousand times. You know my answer."

"But Dr. Crane!" the blonde woman called back to the retreating form of her boss. "I have more evidence this time! It proves –"

"I think we all know exactly what it is you are trying to prove, and I'm telling you now: it will not work," Crane interrupted over his shoulder, his progress down the fluorescent hallway in Arkham Asylum never pausing.

"But I've been doing more research!" Harleen yelled, running up to the side of her superior, matching his stride. "If you'll just read over my findings I think you'll agree that it proves that the patient known as The Joker is not insane, but perfectly capable of –"

"May I remind you again that this is a matter that we have already discussed?" Crane snapped, stopping suddenly and slamming her by the shoulders into the wall. Her eyes widened in fear as he continued. "We had a deal, Quinzel. I would grant you unauthorized access to him, to continue your research" – he sneered out the word, revealing he knew what more went on in the sessions she had with the madman – "while you continue to administer the drugs I have concocted for his particular treatment. Neither of us was to breathe a word of our agreement to anyone, though it appears you have already let that slip, haven't you?"

"I…" she gasped out as he pressed a hand to her slender throat. "I…didn't…mean to, Dr...it just…kinda…slipped out to him, I swea…I swear! I…I told him I-I'd tell him everything…"

"I suppose you let your doctor-patient privilege get in the way of your direct orders from your superior?" Crane yelled, though it wasn't Crane this time – it was Scarecrow, his darkened, rasping voice sending chills through Harleen's body as the hand squeezed tighter around her throat.

"Dr…Crane?" a voice asked quietly.

Crane and Harleen snapped their heads to the intruder. Crane abruptly removed his hand from the young doctor's neck, and Harleen backed away from him, gasping for breath.

Crane straightened his glasses to recollect himself, and then crisply answered the orderly. "What is it?"

"We have a…" the man began, still quite confused and embarrassed to have walked in on the confrontation. "There's a…that is…we…"

"There is a what?" Crane pressed.

"We have a…situation in one of the cells."

"Which one?" Harleen asked in alarm.

At that moment, the orderly's eyes darkened in fear. For a long moment, he seemed unable to form words. Finally, he answered timidly, "…the maximum security cell in the west wing."

Both doctors' faces widened with shock. Crane stood frozen in place, unable to move while his mind processed what had just been said, as Harleen brushed past both men, sprinting at full speed down the hallway to the west wing.

Finally, Crane hesitantly stepped after her, and the orderly led him down the hallway in the direction the woman had just run off in.

A horrified scream erupted from the end of the hallway, making Crane's rapidly-beating heart stand still. He quickened his pace, marching down the hallway faster and faster towards the maximum security cell.

When he finally reached the end of the hall, he numbly slowed to a halt as he gazed upon the sight before him.

Orderlies, nurses, and the whole rest of the staff were crowded around the room, but all had stood back when Dr. Quinzel had burst into the fray. She now screamed again, knelt over the body of the patient that lay on the bed in the middle of the room, tears streaming down her face as she wildly shook the Joker by the shoulders.

"WAKE UP PUDDING!" she screamed in between broken sobs. "WAKE UP! PLEASE! WAKE-W-WA…" and she collapsed on top of his chest as she shuddered with the violent sobs that wracked her body, while the insistent, shrill tone of the heart monitor continued uninterrupted in the background.

xxx

The flames leapt high into the frigid night air, sparked to life by the body they now consumed. It was the end he would have wanted, that much the onlookers knew. By now, the entire city had heard the news, and knew exactly what the blaze meant, and thus they did not dare to venture near Gotham Central Park. The civilians huddled in their homes, fearing what the event might mean for them in the future. They weren't sure what would be worse – if it were all an act, a deception, to lull them into a false security…or if it were true.

The few that were brave enough to view the spectacle were those who were like him. The costumed freaks all crawled out of their cells and hideouts, all to pay their respects to the greatest among them who had passed. When they had each heard the news, many had laughed in its preposterousness, and had breathed a sigh of relief that it was now finally over. Most had come with the full intentions to spit on his corpse, or further desecrate his body in sickening ways.

Yet, when they arrived, they found they could not. The sacred atmosphere that pervaded the area heated by the pyre could not be violated. And so, under fear of the consequences, they found themselves watching him burn just as he had planned his city to burn, and then turned away, tears strangely threatening to sting their eyes in light of the death of a universe.

Hatter brought his most prized hat, and laid it next to the pile of logs that supported the body. Two Face flipped a coin into the flames. Scarecrow had brought his fear gas, wondering if the madman who had feared nothing in life would suddenly start blubbering out all his nightmares when in death. In the end, he found he couldn't repossess the will to go through with the act. Riddler threw in the next riddle he was to send the maniac, then walked away wondering if he would be able to figure it out where he was headed.

Ivy laid a black rose next to the blaze, which proceeded to consume her offering in a torrent of orange and red. She sighed, and then wrapped her arms around a sobbing Harley, murmuring, "We should go now." Harley screamed and fought bitterly against her friend's arms, making to throw herself into the flames to be with her Mr. J again, yet Ivy got the best of her and wrestled her away, as she screamed out "PUDDIN'!" into the night air.

Catwoman watched the display as the rest of the visitors made their way back to their homes and hideaways, to be alone with their thoughts. She alone could not approach the fire. Not that she didn't have her fair share of parting words to leave the madman with as he departed from this world, yet something held her back. She found she couldn't will herself to interrupt a moment that she didn't belong in. That no one belonged in, really. Save for one man.

A man she now watched stand motionless over the fire, his cape blowing wildly behind him as tears slowly rolled from his eyes, marking his dark cowl with lines of loss and misery.

Well...that was decidedly different from Tense. Guess I needed some dark!fic to add to my collection.

This fic was inspired from the song Padme's Destiny from Star Wars Episode III. Once again, John Williams pwns.

Reviews make-a-me happy. ;D

And although I'm sure many of you are celebrating Easter today, I am celebrating a different holiday. HAPPY HEATH LEDGER DAY! (Born April 4, 1979, today would have been his 31st birthday. T-T) Shed a tear for our fallen hero!