Title: Destined
Author: chocolatemooses
Chapter: Rachel Dawes
Disclaimer: Do I look like someone cool enough to own Batman?

AN: First off, I'd like to thank my awesome reviewers. You guys are balls-to-walls awesome, you're reviews kicked me in the ass (in a good way) and demanded that I sit down and write this chapter. Secondly, I just want to say that writing Rachel was incredibly difficult. I am not a huge fan of her character (although I attribute a lot of that to Katie Holmes because I thought Maggie Gyllenhaal's Rachel was less annoying but still...). My characterization of her is based on an interview I read where Ms. Gyllenhaal said that Rachel was basically a spoiled brat who grew up to be a pretty good person (paraphrasing). So, I don't know. Please tell me if you thought I wrote her okay but be gentle, I really am going to plan to never write her again. Thirdly, if someone could tell me what college Bruce went to in "Batman Begins" that would be great, I am too lazy to go searching all over the Internet. So if you know it off the top of your head it would really be helpful. Finally, let me all know what you thought of teen aged Joker, I find it hard to characterize a character when I am not telling it from their point of view so you will have to pay attention to subtle actions he makes. Also, I didn't want to make him too sinister, I mean yes, he is the Joker, a psycho killer, but I don't think he would have gotten all the way to that point at eighteen, but give it time. So just read and review, and I will be happy happy. Thanks!

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The night was dark and the air held a whisper of danger as it travelled across the dimly lit Gotham streets. Wandering the Gotham streets during daylight hours had always been a fairly risky endeavor but at night it was practically suicide. Gangs, robbers, and worse; found solace in the shadows and lawlessness essentially ran the poor neighborhoods. The few poor souls who found themselves lost among the maze of roads and looming apartment buildings usually ended up, at the very least, robbed, beaten and left for dead. At worst, dead.

On a typical Gotham night, one such soul happened to be sixteen-year-old and over privileged runaway, Rachel Dawes. She shivered as the cool air hit her bare arms and wished that she had thought to bring a jacket when she had made her great escape. The remembrance of the harsh words spouted by both herself and her parents brought resolve to the extremely frightened girl and she shook off the fear, rubbed her goose-bump covered arms, and continued her trek through Gotham's underbelly. She couldn't understand why her parents were so set on her attendance at that stupid prep-school. Her eyes blazed with annoyance and determination; she wanted to be with real people, not those blonde-haired, buttoned-up drones. Sure, she knew the importance of a good education but who can learn in that clinically sterile environment, she felt like she was suffocating and she had to break away just to be able to breathe properly.

Walking the deserted streets, Rachel began to question the logic of running away. She knew from the moment she packed a backpack that the idea was juvenile and ridiculous but she was tired of always acting like an adult. She wanted her parents to worry, to be frantic for a few hours. Maybe then they would let her change schools. Or, maybe they will just ship her off to some boarding school. Anything was better than Gotham Prep School for Girls.

She once again tried to decipher the badly graphitized street signs, unable to tell where she was. The sounds of Gotham began to break through her angry haze. The cries of small children, the loud arguments of angry couples, and a few screams carried through the air and chilled her bones. She was beginning to feel an overwhelming sense of fear as the dire situation she was in came into stark realization. She was a young girl wandering the Gotham streets late at night with no protection against the hundreds of criminals and deviants that could overpower her with little trouble at all. She felt like a stupid child who had thrown a tantrum. And her childish tantrum was now becoming more and more dangerous. All she wanted to do now was find a way to get back to her safe home…if she could only figure out where that was.

"You know…pretty girls like you could get into lots of trouble walking around all…alone this late at night."

Rachel jumped half out of her skin and whirled around but found that the streets behind her were deserted. She cautiously glanced to the side and saw, in the shadows of a darkened alley, the figure of a tall man leaning casually against the brick. She quickly reached into the purse and grabbed onto the handle of her hairbrush.

"I-I have a gun." Her fingers were now tightly gripped on the hairbrush, praying to God that the situation wouldn't require any more bluffing.

The shadowed head cocked to the side. The man's voice was teasing yet dark as he replied, "Hmmm…I doubt that is true."

"Why would you doubt that?" She despised the way her voice shook and the way her hands trembled, she hated feeling so scared and helpless.

The man let out a laugh that was low and chilling, scaring her more than anything had ever scared her in her life. It wasn't particularly different than any other laugh she had heard before but there was some meaning behind it that was dark and sinister, something she didn't quite understand. Like he was laughing at a particularly dirty joke made at her expense. She was certain that her knuckles must be white with the iron fisted grip that she used to hold onto the useless brush.

As the man laughed he stepped out of the shadows, his face and frame becoming instantly bathed in the dim street lights. Her eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't as old as she had expected, he was actually pretty close to her age, eighteen maybe nineteen. And he was unexpectedly handsome; blonde, wavy hair that ended an inch above his shoulders and light brown eyes that were dancing with mischief under the rusty orange lights. He seemed taller now as he stood upright, his wiry frame seemed to ripple with unused power and Rachel felt herself take a few unconscious steps backward.

"I doubt…that a little girl like you would have a," he paused, licking his thin lips with his grotesquely pink tongue, carefully tracing each crack on his lips with careful stroked before continuing, "…gun because I can see the…mmm…fear in your pretty eyes." His face contorted into a smile, part teasing part malevolent. "I can see…that if you actually had a gun you would have pulled it out long ago and shot me without any remorse."

She was caught, like an animal in a hunter's trap, no escape. She pulled her hand out from her bag, the trembling abating somewhat, the loss of control was somewhat freeing, all she could do now was wait for his next move. The boy simply stood there, head titled to the side and eyes squinted slightly, smiling and staring at her. His shoulders were slightly hunched and he, almost unconsciously, put his hands in his pockets.

"You're not scared anymore." The almost maniacal tone of his voice was practically gone, now sounding more familiar and human. Rachel still stood on edge, not wanting to be lured into a false sense of security.

She shook her head, "No, if you are going to hurt me there isn't too much I can do, is there?"

The boy let out a bark of laughter, "No, there isn't." He pulled his hands out of his pockets and clapped them together in, what seemed to be, delight. "You are smart one, aren't you?" He brought one hand up to his face thoughtfully and amended his statement, "Although not too smart if you decided it was okay for a…uhhh…pretty young thing like you to wander around so late at night."

"I wasn't wandering around," Rachel said, suddenly offended by his blatant teasing, "I am lost."

He waggled his finger at her and turned his head to the side, giving her a mockingly reproachful look, "Which isn't too smart."

She opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to think of a reply. Eventually she gave up and shut her mouth, wanting to glare at him angrily but still too frightened to do so. "Can you tell me how to get uptown?"

The boy laughed, a little less frightening than the first time but still chilling, and moved a little closer to Rachel. "Hmmm…uptown is pretty far away." He grinned rakishly at her and she felt heat rise to her face. Having gone to an all girls' school for almost her entire life, she was unused to meeting boys in any social situations. Although she would be hard-pressed into calling their alleyway encounter a social situation, she was still acutely aware that the boy harassing her was, in fact, a very handsome young man. "Why should I help you? What's in it…for me?" He gave her a sweeping look that caused her blush even more furiously.

"You don't, I was just asking." She prayed that he would make a decision one way or another, the anticipation of his next move was fraying her fragile nerves. She wanted to curl up in her bed and never, ever argue with her parents again.

He turned his head to the left, then to the right, then to the left again; as though he was five and about to cross the street. "Hmmm. Uptown…are you by any chance one of the…uhhh…privileged of Gotham? One of the…trust fund brigade?" His overall tone was light but there was a slight hint of malice in the way he said privileged that made the earlier fear that Rachel had felt renew itself tenfold.

"No, I work uptown." She lied through her teeth, hoping that he believed her. If he thought she was rich she would be in more danger than before, kidnapping looks very promising when poverty looms constantly on the horizon.

The boy made a tsk-tsk sound, wagging his index finger at her. "You wouldn't be lying now, would you? No no no no. You are one of the well-to-do Gotham society types." He gestured his hands and pointed at himself, "I can tell. Why would you want to lie to me? All I want to do is…help you." His tone told a different story.

"Are you going to tell me how to get there or not?" Hands on her hips, she tried to give the air of one who was unafraid.

"Oh…I'm going to tell you." His tongue darted out of his cavernous mouth again and Rachel's eyes flicked to the pink little organ. He rolled his eyes upward as if in concentration, tongue still darting quickly across his lips. "You go…six blocks down that way," he point right, "Then turn left…go five more blocks…you'll find more familiar and more harmless surroundings soon enough." He caught her gaze and gave her a smile full of teeth.

"Thanks," Rachel said before practically sprinting in the direction he had given. She was only a few feet away when he called out to her.

"Although…if I just sent you off by your lonesome…tommorow Mommy and Daddy might have to," he bit his lip as if distressed by what he was saying, "go down to the morgue to identify the body of their poor…naïve baby girl."

Rachel stopped in her tracks and turned around swiftly. "What are you talking about?"

The boy just shrugged his shoulders carelessly, like he didn't just threaten her life. "Nothing…it's just that this…uhhh…neighborhood isn't safe for a beauuutiful girl like yourself." He threw up his hands in a cavalier way, "I was just trying to be," he licked his lips, "…chivalrous."

"Oh," Rachel said, thrown off by the sincerity in his voice, "Well," she continued cautiously, "maybe you could just take me to, uhh, 'familiar surroundings'."

"I could, couldn't I?" He made no move to continue and she waited patiently for a moment but the stony faced teen was unchanging. Eventually she turned and continued on her way. Seconds later, she heard the sound of footfalls behind her and out of the corner of her eye she saw that the boy was following her.

His hands were jammed into his pockets as he pulled up beside her, brushing against her lightly. The feeling of skin on their bare arms surprised both and they pulled away simultaneously. He turned his head to her and looked at her questioningly, his earlier menacing attitude completely gone, making Rachel wonder if she had imagined it. "Soooo," he said in a casual tone, "really, what is a doll like you doing here? And don't give me that shit about working uptown. It is written all over your designer jeans. You, baby, are money."

The way he talked when he spoke casually was so different than the way the people spoke in her world, he was definitely educated and he spoke as such but the sprinkling of 30's slang added an edge to his voice that drew her in. "I, um, I am running away from home." She gave the statement a thought and added, "Or at least I was."

He didn't even glance at her. "What could your Mom and Pops have done that is worse than what scum like myself could have done to you?"

Vaguely she noted that he was threatening her again, "They won't let me change schools. I want to have more diversity in the people I meet, people besides the generic cookie cutter made students at Gotham Prep." She was lost in her rant now, forgetting who she was talking too. "And I actually want to meet some boys besides the janitor and my driver. I am sixteen-years-old, and I am sick of my parents trying to get me together with Bruce. Really, he is like my brother," she paused, the vision of Bruce Wayne and his morose countenance filling her head, "and sooooo boring."

He scrunched up his shoulders offhandedly, "I wouldn't worry, a dish like yourself will have plenty experience with boys soon enough." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she blushed furiously. For a moment, she forgot the horrid fear she had felt earlier and felt herself become drawn towards him. She was about to flirt back when she saw a flash of malice cross his countenance. She remembered suddenly the darkness that surely resided in his heart and mumbled something, turning her head away, not wanting to be taking in by the atrocious boy.

They continued on in quiet for fifteen minutes before the oppressive silence began to wear at her sanity. She had to break the silence, even if it meant conversing with the devil himself, "So, ummm, what's your name."

He didn't stop moving but he did cast a sidelong glance at her, cocking one eyebrow upwards. For several long minutes he was silent, Rachel thinking he didn't want to answer her. Suddenly, "Jack."

She looked over at him startled but his face betrayed no signs that he had even spoken to her. "Jack," she tried the name, it seemed too…normal…of a name for him. "I like it," she sheepishly looked over at him, "it suits you."

"I hate it." He growled, sending little spasms of fear through her stomach. "It is so common, so tedious." He stopped their movements and, using his height to the greatest advantage, loomed over her. "And I am not…common. Do you understand?" He brought his hand to her cheek and stroked it softly, like a little child would stroke a new pet, uncertainly yet filled with curiosity.

Rachel swallowed loudly, "Yes," she whispered, eyes widened and heart pounding.

His head twitched slightly to the side and he flashed her another wide grin. "Good." With a little tap on her cheek, he turned and continued walking, leaving a frozen Rachel to run to catch up.

The desire to start up another conversation no longer plagued Rachel.

They had walked for nearly forty minutes when Rachel began to see familiar street signs and more police vehicles, amazingly enough this crazy boy had gotten her home. He seemed to have sensed her familiarity with the surroundings because he had stopped and stared down at her, like an expectant bellboy waiting for a tip.

They were in a darkened alley, he had led her through mostly alleys, seeming to enjoy the creepiness it afforded him, but she was feeling a lot less frightened of him now that she was in a relatively safe environment. "Wow," she said with gratefulness in her tone, "you got me home. I don't know how to thank you."

A look of consternation was now plastered over his attractive face like he was trying to make a difficult decision, his brown eyes, which looked black in the shadows, were glued to her and his tongue was working over time on his chapped lips. He once again, seemed to loom over her, although this time she wasn't sure if it was consciously or unconsciously.

"I am going to kill you." The bottom fell out of her stomach, he said it so calmly, like it was something he had been planning from the moment he met her, frighteningly enough it probably was. Her eyes darted around and she thanked God when she saw an idle patrol car parked less than a twenty feet away from where she was hidden with the insane boy.

"What?"

"You heard me." His dark eyes were serious and taunting at the same time, creating a horrible vision.

She was frightened but the close presence of police gave her a little confidence and allowed her to continue questioning him as she built up the adrenaline she knew she would need to escape the strange teen. "Why didn't you do it early, before you led me here?" She whispered, morbid curiosity filling her.

His serious countenance disappeared instantly, his expressions changing faster than a blink of the eye. He was suddenly light and casual, as though discussing murder was a common occurrence. "I don't like to…rush things."

Rachel prepared herself to sprint across the street to the car. "But why would you take me here? You missed your chance."

A new and incredibly sinister smile crossed his face. "Oh…I wouldn't say so. As long as nobody else kills you first. No no no no no…I have plenty of time."

Adrenaline rushing and eyes widening, she sprinted away from him as he began to laugh like a maniac, desperately throwing herself at the policemen who were curiously getting out of the squad car. The last thing she heard, before she was enveloped in the sweet arms of the law, was maniacal laughter and, "Don't go getting yourself killed, beautiful. We still have unfinished business and I always finish my business, that I promise you."

A decade later, Rachel would discover that he was a man of his word.

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AN: Yeah, so I know that the casual Joker was out of character but again, he still a teeny tiny bit of innocence. But I do hope that the "crazy" teen Joker was more in line with the TDK Joker. So, love it? Tell me. Hate it? Tell me but be gentle. Just review. Up next: Collegian Bruce Wayne plays an interesting game with a very interesting classmate.

AN 2: Oh, yeah, I was also wondering if there were any chess players out there. I plan to use copious amounts of chess terms in my next chapter and I really know nothing about the game besides "castling". So if you know any common chess terminology I would love if you could inform me. I will dedicate the next chapter to you. So thanks.