Chapter 4 - Call Me Joker

The woman who I assumed was the psychiatrist there, lead Billy and I down the halls. I trailed slowly behind. The dimly lit fluorescent lights flickered. I looked at all the empty rooms as I walked. I thought I heard noises coming from them. Who sets up an interview for 8 o' clock at night anyway? In an insane asylum of all places?

She stopped at the last door at the bottom of the hall. It was empty except for a table and two chairs. "Miss, would you like the blinds open?" she asked.

I smiled. "No it's fine, Miss..." I looked at her name tag. "...Quinzel," I said. I didn't want to be reminded that it was dark outside.

She nodded. "I'll just be down the hall if you need anything," She said as she walked out.

I could have sworn I heard her murmur, "Have fun."

I turned to Billy, my cameraman. "You can set up the camera, but I want to be alone with him when he gets here. "

He looked at me funny.

"It might be less intimidating that way," I lied. I felt like I needed to do this on my own.

"For him?" He scoffed. "Whatever, as long as I'm getting paid." He set up the camera. "I'm gonna get a bite to eat because I'd rather not stay in this place any longer than I need to. See you in two hours. Just don't forget to press record." I watched him leave. I was alone and waiting to be in a room with a homicidal maniac. I stood patiently waiting, trying to remember why I had said 'Yes' in the first place.

Slowly, he walked in...his hands and feet in chains, with bodyguards in tow. All eyes were on him with every move he made. One of the guards locked those chains to a metal bar in the back. They were just long enough, that if he tried to move forward, he couldn't get very far. The guard shoved him into his seat and took his place outside the door. The other followed.

I took a seat. My eyes drifted to every inch of the empty grey room... the white outlet by the window...the peeling paint on the walls...everywhere but his face.

I flipped through some papers to try to hide my nervousness, but he saw right through me. "Um...so where do we start? My n..."

"Hello, Julia." Any hope I had that somehow he wouldn't remember me, went out the window. Why wouldn't he? I hadn't changed that much. I pretty much stayed the same.

"Surprise seeing you here. I didn't know you were a reporter now."

"Hi..." I said nervously, not quite meeting his gaze. My hands stayed frozen on a piece of paper.

"You aren't scared of me now, are you?"

With only those few words that came out of his mouth, I had sized him up exactly. His words gave off a sense of mockery and double meaning. There was a psychotic arrogance to his voice...a voice I didn't recognize.

"No," I replied, softly. Finally I forced myself to look at his dark eyes...I knew those eyes. I fell in love with those eyes. His face looked older though...aged, but he was only born a year before me. I could see him. I saw Jack and he was right in front of me...but this man wasn't Jack. He was only wearing his face.

"Do you remember me?" he asked grinning from ear to ear.

"...No, I'm sorry I don't." He seemed hurt for a split second...but no more than that. I knew he didn't believe me.

I tried to force a smile and move on, but it quickly faded.

"So, they don't let you wear makeup in here I see." I said, trying to lighten the mood. But my nervousness got the best of me and my joke fell flat. He just shrugged.

OK. I was moving on. When I spoke, I tried to keep my voice strong. "Here, I have a list of all the questions that my supervisor insists I ask you... but for right now, all I have is one..." I was way more upset than I should have been.

"Go on..." Just before I did, he let his eyes fall in the direction of the camera. The one I brought and the one high against the wall in the corner. "Careful, now," he warned.

I lowered my voice, despite the fact that my camera wasn't on and Arkham's camera probably only captured video like most cameras in the city. So I would just have to try not to get too emotional.

"What happened to you?" I asked

He shifted slightly in his chair, before collecting himself again. He etched closer to me and I flinched slightly.

"Me? What happened to you? How do you know you're not the one who's insane?"

"I tried to help you..." I muttered to him, softly. I looked at the man he had become and couldn't help but grow sad.

I felt like my life was a puzzle and he was the piece that didn't fit. He used to... a long time ago. But now, he didn't belong anywhere and there was nothing I could do.

He ignored me. "What do you say Julia...I know nothing about you, you know nothing about me...How about we catch up and reminisce about the good 'ol days?" He obviously didn't care that I was hurting.

"What do you say I ask Bert over there," he said, gesturing to one of the men behind the door, "to bring us some tea and biscuits..."

"No." I told him, upset again. "Do you think this is a joke?"

"Um...Is that a trick question?" He grinned, tapping his chin.

I wiped my tears, ashamed that I reacted the way I did.

"Uggh!" I yelled. He laughed at my annoyance. I rested my head on the table for a moment before I felt a small tap on my shoulder.

"So, Julia...Do you wanna know how I got these scars?" I looked up at him...was he being serious right now?

"You really are that psychotic, aren't you? I already know how you got them remember? I was there."

"Were you now? You see...I don't think you were... See these...I got these when I was out late one night..."

"You're so full of shit, Jack." I had said his name for the first time in ages and I was surprised at how easy it fell from my lips.

He half smiled when I said his name. "Well, you're no fun, are you? And please...Call me Joker."

I shuddered at the realization. He didn't even want to be acknowledged as Jack.

What did I expect...he wasn't Jack. I just couldn't believe that somewhere along the way he got so twisted that he actually thought he was...this character. It didn't matter. I would never see Jack again.

"Fine, don't tell me anything. I just need you to answer my questions." I reached behind me and turned the camera on.

He changed the subject quickly. "You remember my father, don't you?"

I sighed before looking at him, "What about him?"

He chuckled to himself. "I took care of him, didn't I?"

"I thought he was killed in a robbery."

"A robbery... huh? Oh right...the stolen wallet and TV...I remember now. He didn't have much in there anyway."

My body tensed. "I don't want to know..."

"It was about a year later when it happened..."

"A year later...", I repeated. I know I shouldn't have been upset at this psycho, but I was. He came back to Gotham a year later. He went home...he was that close and he didn't even try to find me.

I turned off the camera and kept my mouth closed.

"He was passed out on the couch... as usual... but when he opened his eyes...and believe me-he did open them...He saw me hovering over him."

"...and he jumped when he saw my face." He banged his hands on the table when he said the word 'jumped' to scare me. He laughed at my reaction

"And then he said, 'Christ, Jack, did...did I do that?,' and he laughed a little...he tried to hide it, but I could tell he was...terrified."

"He said,'Geez son...I'm sorry...I didn't know...I don't even remember what happened that night'..."

"But you see, he was lying. He knew exactly what he had done..."

"And then his laugh was gone. 'You stay away from me, you stay the hell away from me,' he threatened."

The grumbling slur of the voice he used, matched his father's so much that it was frightening. It sent chills down my spine.

"He must have known what I came there to do." He chuckled.

"I took out my switchblade and flipped it...the same way he did... that night. I used my other hand to grab him and hold him down. It was different this time...because you see...this time I was stronger... " He studied my face and I tried to keep composed.

"He pleaded with me one last time, Please, son..., he begged...but you see, Julia..."

"I was no longer his son..." He waited to see if I would react, I moved slightly, but showed no sign of emotion. He smiled at my boldness.

"And then I raised my hand and I just looked at him with a smile on my face and said...

"...Why so serious!?"

"Stop!" I called out, as I got up. I knew what he was trying to do.

"But I haven't even got to the exciting part yet!"

"I don't want to hear anymore of your stories, OK, Jack?"

There was a knock on the door and Ms. Quinzel walked in. He leaned back and rolled his eyes.

"Is there a problem here, mam?", she asked, more looking at him, than me.

I eyed her curiously. "No...no problem," I said, embarrassed she had heard me from where she was. She didn't seem convinced. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's fine...she's fine, get out." He waved his hand at the door. She looked at me again, before finally leaving.

"So...where were we?" He leaned forward in his chair, cuffs between his knees.

"Um.." I looked behind at the door, unsure of whether to continue."Tell me what happened when you left. Where did you go?"

"If you want to know something about me, than you have to tell me something about you."

"That's not how it works. I'm the one interviewing you, remember?"

"Something about you, then something about me," he repeated.

I sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything exciting happen lately?"

"Nope. Not that I can think of."

"Really?" He asked, unconvinced.

"Uh..I got engaged, if that's what you mean?"

"Oh, you're engaged...that is exciting."

"Yeah, it is. Now you tell me something, Jack. Where did you go?"

"I said, call me Joker."

I scoffed, but he was still staring at me. Waiting. I couldn't get the word to leave my lips. I felt a huge lump in my throat. "OK...Jo..Joker..." I looked at him. "Happy?...Now answer the damn question."

"Let's see...where did I go? I went here...I went there. I went many places, Julia."

"Is this funny to you? I don't have all night, you know."

"That's too bad because I do," he said with a smile

"You know I was so stupid to think that I could actually do this. I should have cancelled when I found out it was you. This is nothing but a waste of time." I got up and headed for the door.

"Jules...wait!" He stood up and his chains clanked against the metal. He became frustrated.

I abruptly turned around without thinking, when he called me Jules. I felt like I was seventeen for a split second.

"Yeah?", I asked, searching his eyes, with a certain hopefulness. Was the boy I knew still in there somewhere?

Just then, the door swung open and Ms. Quinzel hastily walked in. She was glaring at me.

"Times up."

Author's Note: I hope you like it.