Thank you to Gwenlynn, nocoldwater, FoxDemon303, Hushabye, 123Ekaterina, lovelyxlady389, SuperSally13, DarkHero87, and gekzoalshethoort for your wonderful feedback! And I feel I must say this for some reason, I went to my school's Halloween dance dressed as the Joker nurse. :D Lolz, enjoy the second chapter!!

A Few Weeks Later

The Joker hasn't been found yet. The news reports have died down, and the talk on the streets of Gotham City has decreased. I've speculated that the police have probably given up their search. But I'm still here, safe in my apartment. The first week of his escape form Arkham was hell for me. I couldn't sleep and I constantly looked over my shoulder, fearing that every person who passed me was him. But with help from my friends and family and a strong state of mind, I realized that I can't live my life in fear. I can't hole myself up inside, always thinking that the Joker will find me. If that was the case, I'd probably never see the outside world. Like the cops are ever gonna catch him. I'm not entirely ruling out the possibility of him finding me, though. I have a fairly high profile. But it'll be hard. My phone numbers and address are unlisted. I legally changed my last name to Houghton, although I still use the name Gordon. Houghton just appears on legal and formal documents. So good luck Joker.

Pushing that thought aside, I threw on a nice black tank top, jeans, and flip flops. I was going to meet by best friend Karen at our favorite Mexican restaurant, Cancun's, to tell her something. Something really important. I felt like I could tell her, she doesn't judge me. We've been best friends ever since we met our freshmen year of college, and we've been inseparable ever since.

I arrived at Cancun's, sat down at a booth, ordered a beer, and waited for Karen. She showed up a few minutes later and gracefully took a seat across from me, and we ordered our food. "You've been making me nervous all day. What's up?," she said, anxiously running a hand through her dark brown bob.

I took a big gulp of my beer for courage. "Well, you know how the Joker escaped and no one found him?," I began.

"Duh, who doesn't?," Karen said, trying to make light of it.

"Is it wrong not to be scared?," I asked. She looked at me with confusion.

"Well, it's been over three weeks and he hasn't found you. Right?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

"What are you getting at, George?," Karen asked.

"This might sound crazy, but the day he escaped, I could have sworn I saw him downtown. He wasn't wearing any make up, Karen, and normal clothes. But I saw the scars. I think he was staring at me." I shoved a mouthful chimichanga in my mouth.

"What? That's so fucked up," said a shocked Karen.

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me about it," I said.

"Honestly George, it's nearly impossible for him to find you," she said.

"I've learned that nothing's ever impossible with him. But that's not why I'm worried."

Karen gave me another confused look. "What are you talking about?"

I sighed again. "Karen, I've never told anyone this. Not even the guys or my shrink five years ago. But, the Joker has an undeniable charm. Don't get me wrong, he's absolutely repulsive but whenever he spoke, he always drew me in. I don't know what it was, but he had this really weird appeal and I hate admitting it. I always hated myself for it, so I guess I'm just worried that I might fall for him."

"Wow. I don't really know what to say," Karen replied.

"Yeah, I wouldn't either."

"What are you gonna do about Mike?," Karen asked.

I looked up from the food that I stared at. "I'm sure as hell not gonna tell him about this. Fuck no. The last thing I want to do is freak him out."

Benji woke up. He looked around at his surroundings, and saw that he was in a dark room, lit only by a dim lightbulb hanging over his head. He tried to move, but his arms and legs were tied to the chair he sat on. He tried to force them form the rope that bound him, but it was tied so tight to prevent him from doing so. "Aw, shit!," he yelled, panting heavily.

A laugh echoed in the distance, and crept closer. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Oh he he ah ha. Ha ooh he he ha ah hahhh." Benji searched around the crudely lit room for the source of the voice.

"Who the fuck is this! Show yourself!," he yelled. No one came around. "All right guys, this better not be another prank!," Benji said, thinking of George, Evan, and Steve.

The voice then stepped into the light. "Prank, what prank?," it said.

Benji stared, mouth agape. "You!," he said.

"Uh yeah, it's me. Who were you expecting? Chuck Norris?," the Joker said, laughing at his own joke. He stopped when he realized that Benji wasn't laughing along. " That was a joke, Benji. You're supposed to laugh. Who doesn't love a good Chuck Norris joke?," the Joker said.

"What do you want from me?," Benji asked.

"Indeed, you probably are wondering why I brought you here."

Benji suddenly recalled two men dressed in black and wearing clown masks on their faces breaking into his apartment, and knocking him out cold with his prized Babe Ruth baseball bat. He felt his head pounding. "Tell me!," he shouted, growing angrier and more anxious.

The Joker whipped out a knife and propped it inside the corner of Benji's mouth. "If I were you, I wouldn't shout so much. You're gonna lose your voice. And that would be a tragedy considering your career and all," the Joker said. Benji, who played guitar in Legend Trippers, also sang back-up vocals. "And I must say, I really do love your band. But back to business. You know the location of a certain someone, and you're gonna tell me the information," said the Joker.

He removed the blade from Benji's mouth, allowing him to speak. Benji viciously shook his head back and fourth. "Oh no. There's no way I'm telling you where George is!," he exclaimed.

The Joker circled around him like a hawk. "I don't think you get it, Benjamin. If ya don't tell me, I'm gonna kill ya," the Joker said, laughing.

"So kill me. You don't know the hell her family went through those two days. And I can't even begin to put myself in her shoes. I know all the shit you did to her. Like I'm gonna sit here and make her relive that," Benji said.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "How cute of you to stick up for your friend. But don't you know I'm gonna find her with or without your help? I'm the Joker, you know me!," he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air.

"And to save myself some time, I'm gonna force that information out of ya." The Joker untied the rope around Benji's ankles. He walked around behind him, and pulled the rope tight around his neck. Benji kicked and tried to break free, but the Joker pulled the rope even tighter. Benji's breath grew shorter and shorter, and he gagged like hell. The skin on his neck burned from the friction. He couldn't die. He didn't want to. Not now, he was only twenty-two years old.

"Okay, I'll tell you," he managed to say. It was barely audible in between the gags.

The Joker let the rope fall from his hands. Benji coughed and gasped for air. "I knew ya'd come around," said the Joker.

Benji regained control of his breathing and sighed heavily. He knew he would regret this. "She lives in the city. Downtown on Pearl St. In the big, old brownstone apartment complex. She's on the sixth floor, apartment six E," he said. The Joker grinned smugly and cut the rope around Benji's wrists.

"You're free to go, my good man," he said, leaving the dark room.

Benji hung his head in defeat. He already regretted what he just said. And he was afraid of what George would do if she found out. She was his friend and bandmate, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her in any way. "Shit, Benji. You really screwed this one up," he muttered to himself.

I fell asleep that late that night, around midnight. The weather was mild with a nice summer breeze, so I left my bedroom window open. Stupid decision. I woke up in the middle of the night to someone quietly walking around in my room. I glanced over to the window. A hole was cut in the screen. Oh shit. Laying perfectly still, my eyes shifted over to the intruder. A robber perhaps? He wasn't looking at me, so my hand reached over the drawer of my night stand. I felt for the small can of pepper spray I keep in there. When I found it, I left my bed and slowly made my way over to him. He turned around, and I sprayed the pepper spray in his eyes. He fell to the ground and screamed in pain, his hands covering his eyes. I flipped a light switch on and got a good look at him. I gasped like fuck.

"Jack?," I said.