I'm trying to get as many chapters out as I can before I go away, so here's another. And on the same day as my last post! I must be ill. Or crazy. Either one.


Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I don't own either 'The Crow' or 'The Dark Knight', or have any rights except fan rights to the late lamented Heath Ledger and Brandon Lee.

Street Freaks

Chapter 2

~Don't wake at night to watch her sleep~

'Burn' –The Cure


Somebody should tell this guy that the words 'taxi driver' and 'tour guide' aren't synonymous.

He literally hasn't closed his mouth since I got in.

I'm tired, I'm wet, because in accordance with my shitty luck, it happens to be raining my first day in Gotham, and I'm in no mood to play 20 Questions with a guy whose last meal consisted mainly of garlic.

I hate garlic.

"It's kinda weird, ya know, you moving to Gotham, when most people are trying to get out? I mean like, with the Joker outta Arkham, most sane people are getting the fuck outta here. Where you from again?"

"New Detroit."

"Oh yeah. I heard some mobsters got screwed up that way. That this lunatic took them out, right, alone, and now the police can't find him. Maybe I should move out that way, 'cause this fucking city's just getting worse, you know?"

I watch the streetlamps roll by, their oily light smudging the window.

"The Joker blew up Gotham General, you know, and I'm thinking, like what's sacred anymore? Y'know, like what's gonna stop him coming after me next, man? It's fucked up, that's what it is."

"He got something against sick people?"

"Nah, he's a maniac man. He's like, seriously unhinged. He killed the fucking Police Commisioner for Christ's sake! What's stopping him from coming after little guys like us…"

I tune him out, rolling my eyes.

He obviously has no idea what makes this guy tick.

I've been inside Gotham's city limits for half an hour, and I've already worked out the Joker.

I catch a dark blot across the dawn sky out the window. Admetus. It's lucky he didn't join me, or I'd have had to kill the driver before my ears exploded.

I focus back on our 'conversation'.

"Maybe he'll target taxi drivers next, y'know, no-one does checks on these piece a' shit cars anymore, someone could strap a bomb easily to the bottom, and I wouldn't fucking even guess until KABLAM!"

"What did he want, though?"

"And…what?" I've broken into his little pity-fest and apparently thrown him off guard. I despise people like him. So stuck in their little worlds, thinking everyone's out to get them. Thinking death's the worst thing that can ever happen.

"What was the purpose of blowing up a hospital? What did he want?"

"Uh….he wanted…he wanted the Batman to reveal his identity, y'know, tell everyone who he was. But he's a fucking maniac, that guy. People like that don't need a reason."

I explain as patiently as I can. "Well, if his beef's with the Batman, you're safe. Why would he bother killing a taxi driver?"

It goes straight over his head, of course, and I have to listen for the next five minutes to a list of reasons why this Joker person would target taxi drivers.

He's begging to be killed. He's actually starting to convince me that he should die.

It'd be a service to the community, really, to put his head through the window as we go through a tunnel.

The taxi lurches forward, and I eye the sprawling rows of houses passing outside.

"Where are we?"

"Worst neighbourhood we got. The Narrows. Why the fuck you think I'm going so fast?"

"Stop. Let me off here."

He turns his head all the way around to stare at me, bald head shiny with sweat, muddy eyes stretched wide with fear.

"You got problems kid? You'll be ten kinds a' fucked up if I drop ya here."

It would be so easy to snap his neck. So easy.

"Just do it."

He's still yelling at me out the window as he pulls away, and I catch a last glimpse of his horrified eyes between the seats. Then he's gone, fishtailing away down the road, leaving a stench of burned rubber.

It's 10 am by the time I manage to secure a room, in a block of apartments that give a lovely view over the docklands, and into several seedy alleyways. The bed's cover is stained yellow, and the taps don't work in the bathroom. The first thing I check is the window, which has a broad ledge, and faces onto a wall, which is good for getting in and out without being noticed by the wrong people. I lever it open, and Admetus swoops through, landing on the neck of a lamp that bends like a dead tree to the floor.

The only thing that's going to illuminate are the cracks in the floorboards.

I dump my bag on the only chair in the room, tear the cover off the bed, dump it in a corner, pull off my shirt and fall forward onto the mattress.

Something crunches and it drops a few inches, which just shows the quality of the place I'm in.

I close my eyes.

I roll over to meet her smile, her hair flung over the pillows.

She laughs at me, and fights to keep the covers as I tug them, pulling them up until only her sweet brown eyes shine at me.

I pull them away, and lean in to kiss her…

And open my eyes to find a corpse, eyes blank, mouth lolling grotesquely, one eye swollen nearly shut, blood on the pillows.

"Shelly!"

I shake her and she gasps a wet bloody breath, a rattle I can feel up her throat…


"SHELLY!"

I open my eyes to blinding light, and Admetus' screech.

I can't stop shaking, can't get up, and I fall from the mattress to lie shivering on the floor.

Admetus is attacking me, claws scratching over my bare chest, beak stabbing my neck and face, and every breath I take is painful as my body twists on the floor.

There's such a pain in my gut that I bend involuntarily into a circle, banging my head hard against my knees, fingernails drawing blood across my shoulders. I feel warmth as the slash in my stomach bleeds from the position.

Everything hurts and I can't breathe, and everything flashes white- black-red in front of my eyes.

Admetus' beak stabs above my eye, and the blood blinds me. His wings batter my head, and I roll, choking, to my side, to escape him.

I snatch a breath, and then another, like a drug addict, needing more.

The pain is lessening, ebbing, and I drag in air as I uncurl slowly, hands aching from the strength of my grip, shoulders throbbing.

I manage a true, deep breath, and see, sideways, Admetus return, ruffling his feathers, to the lamp.

It takes several minutes for me to work up the strength to crawl to my bag, pull out the late Tin-Tin's filthy leather jacket, and pull my aching arms through the sleeves.

I brace my back against the bed, and just breathe for a moment, watching my hands shake in the long bands of afternoon sunlight striping the floor.

That's never happened before. I can still see Shelly's corpse-face in my mind, and bile licks my throat.

I need a drink. I need it now.

Author's Notes: Well okay, the Joker wasn't technically present. But he was spoken of! I actually was going to introduce him in this chapter, but then that dream-reaction bit kind of wrote itself. Next chapter, I swear it.

Love,

Taluliaka