So, they gave him a new face, and a new name, and the man found himself looking the mirror, drawing a blank.
Miles?
A blank slate.
Oliver?
He was blank.
Nathan?
His first ideas had been Joseph and Jules, but then they told him he couldn't pick a name that started with J, and after that he couldn't think of anything. So they'd shown him a website, one that gave you names, and he looked through it, through the recommendations it was giving for fans of Jackson and James.
Finn?
Brown hair, high cheekbones, a pretty nose, skin that wasn't pale enough to be his, lips that weren't red- even his eyes didn't look as green.
Who was the man he was looking at?
Leo?
He scrolled down.
Lucas?
He liked that one. "Lucas," he said. His voice didn't sound right. The Joker would have said it different, Luke, Lukey, Lukey-luke, but this was Lucas. He liked Leo, too.
He paused. "I really like this one," he said, and glanced up at the mirror. He looked like he could be a this name. He sounded like he could be this person.
The doctor, who was sitting quietly in the corner, looked up from her desk. "No J names," she reminded him.
"But I look the part."
"No."
"Okay," he said quietly, and looked through the list again. "I can't decide."
She came over to look at the list. "Do you want me to-"
"Yes, please."
She took the computer from him and frowned, before sitting down and filling out some papers. "I suppose… this one's alright."
"Really?"
She murmured something about it being the only good one. "You're going to need a job…"
"Okay."
"I have a friend. Orin Rylee. He's a florist, he can get you in the business."
"Sounds good."
"You need a surname, to."
"Kerr?"
"No."
He thought for a moment, before suggesting one. She wrote it down.
So a man who had nothing to do with crime, nothing to do with clowns, and nothing to do with Batman, was born.
The Joker was dead.