And so it began again. Cool air washed over the Joker's face as a small breeze burst through the air conditioner. It was always cold at Arkham. In the summer, it was a blessing. Though in colder months, quite the contrary. That night it was rather pleasant. It had been unusually warm outside. The nurses and doctors reveled in the refreshing chill of the hospital. It didn't make a difference to the patients. They were always cold. Though the air was relaxing, the Joker wasn't able to sleep just yet. Not so long as Andrea was within fifty feet of Arkham.

Come 2:03, Andrea was free to leave the building. She didn't do nightshifts unless they were short-staffed. She would be able to go home and sleep until 8:00 that morning. Then she would have to get herself out of bed, call her children, and get ready for duty again at 11:30.

Stepping in for Andrea was Lucas. He was a young man with a buzzcut. A newcomer to the Arkham staff. That's why he was given the nightshift. He'd have less to deal with when it came to the patients. He was signed up to be on duty until 5:00. With him, he had a book about coping with autism in your family. A few pages were dog-eared, a few others had sticky notes to mark them. When he learned his little brother had the disease, he wanted to know as much as he could to help him. Lucas wasn't an easily distracted man. They book was to keep him awake after his first hour and a half of duty. It worked better than hot coffee, and was safer to have around psychotic killers.

Until 2:10 he walked slowly through the hallway, looking in on the patients every other time he passed. One or two were awake and turning over in their beds, though they were quiet. Lucas took a quick break to lean against the wall near the main door. He picked up his book and began to thumb through the pages. The Joker had seen the guard's shadow pass his door four times. By what would have been the fifth time, he had already shut his eyes involuntarily. He wasn't awake for Lucas's second walk of the hall, nor his third or fourth. No, the Joker slept peacefully. Though his mouth was relaxed, he smiled through the remainder of Lucas' watch.

At 4:35, Lucas's walkie-talkie started up with the screech of a harpy. The voice on the other end was muffled, panicked. It called for O'Brien. Several of the patients stirred at the sudden jolt of static. The Joker's eyes flickered open. That dead cold in the air gave way to the nearing of dawn. He sat up in his bed as other patients began to revolt against the pathetic guard.

"Oh God turn it off!"

"What's happening?"

"Who's there?"

"I'll kill you! Turn it off! Turn it OFF!"

"Alright everyone, calm down, it's just my walkie-talkie." Lucas stepped towards the center of the hallway. He desperately tried, and failed, to ease the patient's nerves. The device flared up once more. Those who were awake screamed, waking up those lucky enough to have had sleeping medication. Lucas called into the source of the problem.

"Can I get a nurse down here?" he called out to anyone listening.

"Just break it, man, please, just get rid of it!"

"Oh my God I'm dying I'm dying!"

"Goddamit! Can I get a nurse down here?"

"It won't matter." Amongst the audio chaos swarming about him, the calm, quiet voice stuck out. Lucas looked towards the cell behind him, just to his left.

He called into the walkie-talkie once more, the noise around him growing. "Can I please get a nurse down here?" Lucas stepped towards the door. He was tall enough to look into the cell. He saw a man, barely lit, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

"It won't make a difference. You can keep calling. They won't send anyone. It's not how they work. No see," the Joker cleared his throat. "They don't like to HELP people when they ask for it, no. You see it boosts the rate of return, keeps business booming." A small, yipping laugh followed his words.

Lucas stood still, staring into the darkness of the Joker's cell. The noise raged around him, patients turning against one another. They shouted across their cells, throwing insults and accusations like pebbles. Their paranoia hit a peak, but it was lost on Lucas. He didn't care about the wild creatures behind bars. He was captured by this bizarre creature, sitting like a picture from a children's book. "You're…you're that clown, aren't you?"

"Mmhm…you're even fresher than I had expected. Unfortunately," he stood up slowly, his hands pushing him from the bed. "You're about as original as I imagined." He walked towards his cell door. He licked his lower lip quickly as he approached the barrier between himself and the young man. "Tell me now, what's your name?"

There was a pause. Lucas looked around him, snapping back to reality and hearing the other patients. "I need to-"

"No no no…thick metal doors, everything's alright. Now," the Joker smiled. "What's your name?"

"It's…Lucas." He spoke as though he were turning himself in for murder.

"Lucas? Lucas. Mm," the Joker tilted his head back, his upper lip curling in disgust. "No, I don't care for that much at all." He narrowed his eyes. "Now look, Samuel. You don't belong in here."

The guard looked as though he had been slapped. He shook his head slowly. "I'm more than qualified to-"

"No no. Don't try to fight it. This just…" the Joker raised his arms up as though he were going to hug the air. He waved his hands in quick circles. "This whole thing. It just isn't you. Trust me. Now Joshua, this place is perfect for him. Murray is fine for the job, but you my friend." The Joker put his hands on the door and leaned forward. "You are…a disgrace…you are a…BLEMISH on the face of this establishment."

Lucas was silent. Horrified. He couldn't take a step back or forward. All he could do was look at the cell door. "I'm…not sure I understand wha-"

"You wouldn't, now would you? Listen, Samuel." The Joker lowered his voice. "There isn't a single fiber in your body worth preserving. You, to me, are the sickest, weakest, most pathetic excuse for a man I have ever seen." Lucas began to open his mouth in retaliation. "Up bup bup…the truth is harsh, but must be heard. If I don't tell you, no one will. Now," the Joker narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to see the wall through Lucas. "When your shift is over, Samuel. I want you to go to administration, and turn in your gun and papers. Because if I see you down here one more night, I will kill you. Despite my utter disgust at the thought of getting close enough to strangle you, I will take it, and strangle you on sight."

Lucas stared at the Joker, his eyebrows drawn together. His face held the fear of a man who had just looked into the eyes of Satan.

"Do you understand, Samuel?" The guard did not respond. "Samuel?" The Joker tilted his head and looked expectantly to the man. Lucas nodded slowly. The hall door began to open. Lucas stepped away from the Joker's cell and made his way to the end of the hall to be relieved.

"Oh, Samuel, one more thing?"

Lucas froze in place and looked back towards the Joker. "Y…yes?"

"What time is it?"

"Uh…um…" Lucas brought his wrist up slowly. He looked at his digital watch. "It…it's 4:57."

The Joker leaned against the door for a moment, listening as Lucas explained to the other guard what had driven the patients into a frenzy. The Joker sighed as the watch changed. It would be dawn soon. He made his way back to his bed slowly, lazily, like a drunk heading to a cab seat. He slid underneath the covers. The Joker looked up at the ceiling and cracked his neck. He spoke to the darkness.

"Sweet kid."