(Sooooooo, My Purple Skies hasn't posted in a while and I can tell you're all getting anxious, especially RENZEI27. She happens to be out of the room for the moment and has left her laptop unprotected-ah. I decided it was my turn to have a go at introducing a chapter in her book. So without further ado, presenting-!
(I walk in and Joker looks up like a deer caught in the headlights. Joker grins.) "Sweeetheeeaart! How are you?"
"What are you doing?"
(Joker quickly finishes typing.) Without further ado, here's the next chapter. (Presses 'update' and runs out of the room.)
"JOKER!"
Chapter Nine
The sound of her phone ringing mercilessly beside her head made Samantha groan as she moved beneath the bed sheets. Her hand fumbled limply for the phone on her nightstand and felt its familiar surface. She picked it up, nearly dropping it, and propped it next to her ear.
"Hello?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Are you watching the news?" Harleen's voice asked.
"No."
She had been in the middle of a nice catnap before she had to get to work at the hospital that night. Someone had asked for the day off and Samantha was the one they picked to cover for the night shift schedule that person had.
"Well you should be! Batman's turning himself in!" Harleen squeaked.
Samantha was still recovering from the effects of being woken from a deep sleep. "Do what?" she asked.
"You heard me!"
No, actually, she hadn't. Harleen's words were still jumbled together. She was able to make out 'turn on the TV to GCN,' before Harley clicked off.
Samantha groggily got out of bed and rubbed her eyes. She shuffled to the living room, her bare feet lightly thumping on the wood floors.
Samantha plopped onto the sofa and switched on the TV. Only when the bold letters on the screen came on did she understand what Harleen had been telling her.
Mike Engle was saying how Harvey Dent had called together a press conference and that it was suspected to be about Batman turning himself in.
"We're going live to the conference, where GCN's camera crew have set up their equipment to broadcast this moment to you," he informed the viewers.
Samantha rolled her eyes. Sometimes that guy seemed so fake.
The image changed to the inside of a building with big glass walls which looked out to the city. A stage and podium had been set up and a crowd of reporters, cops, and various other people were seated facing it.
Samantha briefly caught a glimpse of Bruce Wayne as he walked in the path of a camera. What was he doing there? She didn't have time to think much about it before an announcer stepped up and said, "District Attorney, Harvey Dent."
…..
The crowd settled down as Harvey, looking neat and handsome as always, crossed the stage and nodded at the announcer. He stood behind the podium and looked out at the people's faces.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I've called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to assure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done."
Scoffs and murmurs of doubt trickled through the crowd of people.
Harvey raised his voice to be heard. "Secondly, because the Batman has offered to turn himself in. But first let's consider the situation. Should we give in to this terrorist's demands? Do we really think that he's gonna-?"
A woman right behind Bruce spoke up with disdain in her voice. "You'd rather protect an outlaw vigilante than the lives of citizens?"
Voices rose in agreement as cameras continued to flash.
"The Batman is an outlaw," Harvey agreed.
Silence settled once again.
"That's not why we're demanding he turn himself in, we're doing it because we're scared. We've been happy to let Batman clean up our streets for us til now."
A man in the crowd voiced his disagreement. "Thing's are worse than ever!"
"Amen," someone chorused.
Harvey slightly nodded. "Yes, they are…But the night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you…the dawn is coming. One day, the Batman will have to answer for the laws he's broken. But to us…not to this madman."
"No more dead cops!" an officer in the back shouted. His fellow officers joined in with him. Several people began to clap.
Harvey felt his heart grow heavy. He was loosing.
"He should turn himself in!"
"Give us the Batman! Come on!"
"Where is he?"
Bruce watched the district attorney from his spot at the side wall. He felt bad for Dent. Last night as Batman he had told Dent to call this meeting so he could turn himself in. Dent wouldn't have it. He nearly tore him apart, telling him that he couldn't give in. But this was the only way.
Harvey stared at the crowd for a moment, determining his next move. He looked away, mind made up.
"So be it. Take the Batman into custody," he said, stepping away from the podium.
The crowd whispered in confusion.
"What?"
"Is he here?"
Bruce took a deep breath and moved to step out.
Harvey gazed out at the crowd. "I am the Batman," he announced calmly.
Bruce froze as the room around him exploded with voices of shock. Two cops made their way to the stage and slapped a pair of handcuffs in Dent's wrists.
…
Samantha sat there on the sofa, arms crossed, brow furrowed, as she stared at the TV. It didn't make any sense. Why would Dent do that? He couldn't be the Batman. He was locked in a storage closet when Batman was fighting the Joker's goons at Bruce's party. Why was Dent lying? Didn't he know the Joker would go after him?
Samantha paused when a thought occurred to her. That's exactly what he wanted…Dent wanted the Joker to come for him so he could lure him in. The real Batman was going to trap the Joker when he went for the decoy.
"Dent…you better know what you're doing."
….
Rachel stormed out of the room, away from the TV, and searched for Alfred. She found him by the dining table and called out to him.
"Alfred."
Rachel adjusted her shoulder bag and waited to speak when she was closer to him.
"Why is he letting Harvey do this?"
"He went down to the press conference."
"I know. And he just stood by."
"Perhaps both Bruce and Mr. Dent believe that Batman stands for something more important than the whims of a terrorist, Miss Dawes, even if everyone hates him for it. That's the sacrifice he's making. He's not being a hero. He's being something more."
Rachel nodded, anger evident on her face. "Yeah, you're absolutely right. Letting Harvey take the fall for this is not heroic at all," she replied in an icy tone. Alfred looked hurt by her words. Rachel's face softened. "You know him better than anyone," she said.
"I do," Alfred answered quietly.
Rachel took an envelope with 'Bruce' written on the front, out of her bag and handed it to Alfred.
"Will you give this to him for me? When the time is right?"
"How will I know?" he asked.
"It's not sealed."
Rachel embraced him and squeezed tight. "Good bye, Alfred." She let go and gazed at the man she had known since childhood.
"Bye, Rachel," Alfred said with some difficulty.
….
The Joker leapt from his chair and lifted his arms in the air.
"I knew it!"
He laughed and clapped his hands together before spinning around to face the TV and pointed at Harvey as he was shown being escorted out of the building.
"Oh Harvey, Harvey, Harvey Dent-ah! Just you wait! There's more to come!" he cackled. The Joker grabbed Red by the back of the neck and hoisted him to his feet.
"You and I need to figure out which route they're going to take when they deliver Dent to Central Holding."
Red looked at him puzzled. "Won't they keep him at the MCU?"
The Joker's grip tightened painfully around Red's neck. "Noooooo, they'll want to get him out of there as soon as possible, tonight; half of Gotham is against Batman and will probably try to kill him. The cops will be hurrying to ship him out. Now, let's do a little snooping, hm?"
…..
Later that night at the MCU, Dent was being escorted to a SWAT van to go to Central Holding. A man was giving instructions to the drivers of the SWAT van carrying Dent, the decoy SWAT van carrying SWAT members, and the squad cars.
"We get this guy to County, he's their problem. The streets will be cleared along your route. So let's go. The convoys stop for no reason."
SWAT member, Pete, hopped into the van holding Harvey Dent and looked at the driver. "I hope you got some moves, pal," he said.
The driver said nothing but looked away and stared ahead. It kinda made him look creepy, considering the fact that his entire face was covered up by his SWAT uniform mask. Pete ignored the flesh bumps that popped over his skin and shook it off. They had a job to do.
…
Harleen waited for the man in front of her to finish looking over her credentials. He hadn't spoken a word for five minutes and she was getting anxious. What if he refused her the internship?
He let out a sigh and looked up at her. "Well, Miss Quinzel, I must say you have a very impressive report. But I am curious as to why you'd want an internship at an asylum for the criminally insane?"
"My interest in the subject has always been there. It's just recently that my interest has increased and I want to learn more," she told him, thinking back to the Joker's GCN tape.
The man was quite a few more seconds and finally seemed to come to a decision. "Well, I hope you find what you're looking for in Arkham. Let's have you start here a week from now."
Harleen beamed and rose from her chair at the same time he did. "Thank you Doctor Arkham! I won't let you down."
She left the building and hailed a taxi. All the while she had a big, stupid grin on her face. She took out her cell phone when she sat in the back of the vehicle and dialed Samantha's number.
"Hello?"
"Hi-ya, Sammy!"
"Hey, Harley."
"I just called to tell you I got that internship at-."
"Harley, that's great! And I'd really like to talk, really I do; but I have to be at the hospital to cover for someone in thirty minutes. I imagine the traffic will be backed up since Dent's being transported."
"Darn, I was hoping you, me, and Alice could go somewhere tonight."
"You and Alice can go out, but make sure it's a romantic restaurant, not fast food, you cheapskate," Samantha teased.
Harleen giggled. "Nah, I think I'll just head home and we can try again some other time."
"Alright, take care."
"You too."
….
Dave and his partner were keeping watch at one of the road blocks when a semi truck pulled up to one of the fences and blared his horn loudly. He kept doing it until Dave got fed up and put down his cup of joe.
"Man, I've had enough of this," he grumbled and opened the door of their patrol car. His partner's hand grasped him by the arm.
"Dave, wait…" He looked uneasily at the semi. On the side was pictured a circus like background and in big letters said, 'Laughter is the Best Medicine.' But someone had spray painted a red S in front of the word 'Laughter', now making it read 'Slaughter is the Best Medicine.'
"I don't like this," he said. Dave went on anyway.
He walked to the driver's window to see an older man with a cowboy hat on. The driver turned his head to look at Dave.
"Hey you wait like everybody else, pal," Dave told him.
The Joker popped up, leaned across the driver, aimed his shotgun, and pulled the trigger without any hesitation. Dave's head whipped back from the impact of the shot and he fell to the pavement.
His partner swore and got out of the car. He jogged over to the semi and pushed back his hat as he glanced down at Dave's bleeding body. He looked up at the Joker. "Jeez man, you didn't have to shoot him!" he cried.
The Joker sat back in his seat and blew invisible smoke away from the gun barrel. "Nope, I didn't have to, but you could have stopped him like you were suppose to, couldn't you?" the Joker asked.
Something in the Joker's voice made him feel even worse.
"Killing him wasn't part of the plan."
"I'm not exactly the planning type. Now get those road blocks out of the way."
The officer gave one last look at Dave before hurrying to pull the fences out of the semi's way.
…..
If Harleen had known about the street chase that had happened between the Joker and Batman, who had lost his tank like vehicle due to a bazooka gun fired by the Joker, she never would have gone down the road she was on. Oh no. She would have told the cab driver to take the long way and would gladly have paid the cab fee. But she had no way of knowing and found herself caught up towards its ending.
She heard what sounded like rapid gunfire. The car in front of them swerved onto the curb and crashed into a pole.
"What the-?" her cabbie exclaimed.
The removal of the car had revealed a figure further down the street, walking away from an overturned semi truck.
Harleen saw the figure was dressed in purple before she noticed the machine gun in his hands.
"Duck!" she screamed.
The cabbie didn't move in time. The Joker lifted the gun and fired at their car without even looking in their direction.
Bullets pierced through the windshield and buried themselves in the cabby's body. The taxi veered to the right and rammed into a parked car. The jolt sent Harleen forward, slamming her into the driver's seat. She fumbled for the door handle and shoved it open.
Harley stepped out of the vehicle and kept her head down as she crawled away and headed for cover behind the car the taxi had impaled. Her heart hammered inside her chest as Harleen peeked over the roof of the car and spotted the Joker.
"Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on. Come ooon. I want 'cha ta do it, I want 'cha ta do it, come on!"
He fired another stream of bullets at an on coming car, causing it to wreck. Finally the street was clear and he stood in the center, staring straight ahead with a look on his face that bode anyone in his way no good. He stood with his legs spread, feet planted, shoulders hunched, and fists clenched. He wasn't going to move.
"He looks so powerful…."
"I want ya ta do it," he muttered.
"What is he talking about?" Harleen wondered.
She became aware of a noise that sounded like an engine. She leaned further out and saw a black shape heading at a fast pace towards the Joker. It was some sort of a motorcycle, and judging by the black cape billowing behind him, she'd say Batman was the driver.
"Come on. Cooome oon, cooome oon, I want 'cha ta do it, I want 'cha ta do it. Come on, hit me." His voice rose in volume with each time he repeated his words. "C'mon, hit me! C'mon Hit Me!" he roared in that demonic voice.
Harleen heard a yell coming from the Batman. He didn't seem like he was going to stop and the Joker was certainly not going to move! Batman was less than ten feet away now.
"HIT ME!"
"No!" Harleen shouted. Her voice didn't carry over the roar of Batman's motorcycle.
At the last moment, Batman steered the bike to the left, avoiding the Joker. He didn't have time to slow down. The motorcycle crashed into a semi truck, throwing the vigilante off his bike.
Harleen ducked behind the car and turned her back to rest against it. She heaved a sigh of relief and realized her heart was beating wildly. She couldn't understand why? Why did she not want the Joker to get hurt?
Harleen eased her head around the edge of the car to see the Joker slowly strolling towards the fallen Batman. He was twirling a knife in his hand and skipping!
"Da- dum, da-dum, da- dum," he hummed.
Harleen never took her eyes off of him. He was so fascinating to watch! She didn't even realize he had left his gun behind.
One thug with a clown mask rolled the Batman onto his back and reached out to remove the black mask. A sudden jolt of electricity shot through his hand. He yelped in pain and withdrew his hand too fast. He lost his balance and fell to his side.
The Joker laughed wildly and leaped into the air with a kick at the thug. He landed barely an inch away from him but successfully made it over Batman. The Joker kicked the thug a few times while he gibbered and made other strange noises. He did it for a few more seconds and finally spat on him. He turned to Batman and kneeled down with his drawn and close to Batman's throat.
"C'mon," he muttered under his breath.
A cold gun barrel was pressed against the back of his neck. The Joker gave a frustrated growl and turned his head slightly.
"Gnnnaaaahh! Could you please just give me a minute?" he whined.
His captor shoved him off the vigilante and onto his back. The Joker looked up at the face of a man he thought he had killed and lifted his eyebrows.
"We gotcha," Jim Gordon said, breathlessly.
The Joker took one look at the gun pointed at his face and let his knife clatter to the pavement. Gordon couldn't tell if it was the scars or if there really was a smile on his lips.
…..
Batman had mysteriously disappeared shortly after more police showed up. As the Joker was unceremoniously dragged to a squad car in handcuffs, Harvey Dent was helped out of the battered SWAT van by Gordon. At first he couldn't believe his eyes when Gordon opened the van's door.
"Gor-…" Dent smiled and nodded. "You do like to play things pretty close to the chest," he said with a tired yet still joking voice.
Gordon smiled back. "We got him, Harvey."
Immediately after climbing down from the van he was surrounded by reporters. Harvey was momentarily blinded by the flashes of their cameras.
"Mr. Dent! How does it feel to be the biggest hero in Gotham?"
"No, I'm no hero. Gotham's finest, they're the heroes."
"But you and your office have been working with the Batman all along?"
"No, but I trusted him to do the right thing."
"Which was?"
"Saving my a-."
Anna Ramirez intervened and led Harvey to an awaiting squad car that was being driven by Detective Wuertz. "Alright, people, that's enough. Let him be. Let him be."
"Thank you, detective," Harvey told her as she opened the door for him. "I've got a date with a pretty upset girlfriend."
Ramirez chuckled. "I figured, counselor."
She shut the door behind him and the car drove off. Harvey never saw the look of guilt that was on Ramirez's face as she watched him go.
…
Harleen had moved from her hiding spot and watched the squad car carrying the Joker pull away from the wreckage. She went to the taxi and grabbed her purse out of the passenger's seat. Harleen dug her cell phone up from the contents and dialed Samantha's number as fast as her fingers could go.
….
Samantha felt her cell phone vibrate and slowed in her walking to answer it. She was already in the hospital and had been on the way to make her rounds.
"Hello?"
"Sammy! I was on my way home and there was this semi truck and it was upside down and lots of bullets and we crashed and Batman and his motorcycle and-!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down. What?"
"The Joker was arrested!"
Samantha froze in her tracks and stared straight ahead.
"Sammy, are you there?" Harleen asked when her friend didn't reply.
Samantha swallowed and spoke into the phone. "Are you sure?"
"Sammy, how many men wear clown make-up and a purple suit?"
"Alright, Miss Sarcasm."
"Hey, look who's talking."
"Thanks for telling me about the Joker, Harleen."
"No problem."
Samantha closed her phone and went to the nurses' locker room. She clutched the medical files close to her chest and put her back against her locker. A big grin spread across her face.
"YES! Ha ha ha ha!" Samantha cheered and slide down to the floor. "Take that, Allan!"
Samantha paused when the name escaped her lips.
He's not Allan anymore. He never was.
Samantha's beeper went off and she groaned. She picked herself and the files from off the floor and dusted off any dirt from her uniform. Samantha couldn't help but grin again as she walked out of the locker room.
The Joker is arrested. He can't hurt anyone anymore.
….
At the MCU, the Joker sat calmly in his cell as the other inmates around him were loud and riotous. He watched as the knives were emptied out of his coat's pockets one at a time by an inspector. He mentally counted them as they were set down on the table outside of his holding cell, far beyond reach.
"One…two…three…four…five…six… seven…pocket watch…" He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Be careful with those knives…they have a mind of their own."
The Joker clasped his bare hands together and rapidly bounced the weight of his legs up and down by the toes of his feet. Most people looked at it as a sign of nervousness.
"Ha…"
But noooo…he was just a bundle of energy and he was having a hard time keeping still.
He rubbed his hands together, feeling the skin he normally kept covered with gloves. The Joker had surprised the police when he cooperated with them to get his fingerprints. He had nothing to worry about.
A loud ruckus sounded from behind him and he rolled his brown eyes. Some of his thugs had been captured and jailed with him and now they were trying to prove to their boss how tough they were. Pathetic…
"Stand away! All of you!"
The Joker looked up to see Jim Gordon; followed by Detective Ramirez and Stephens.
"I don't want anything for his Mob lawyer to use, you understand?"
The men in charge of watching nodded reluctantly. The Joker could tell they'd rather be kicking some of the thugs around or smashing his own brains to mush. Did Gordon really think he had a lawyer?
"Hello, what have we here?"
Mayor Garcia walked in, a look of disbelief on his face as he stared at Gordon.
"Back from the dead?" he asked half jokingly. They shook hands.
"I, uh…couldn't risk my family's safety," Gordon explained.
They both turned to face the Joker, who had suddenly become very interested in something on the ceiling.
"What do we got?" the mayor asked.
Gordon shook his head and put his hands on his hips. "Nothing. No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name. No other alias."
"Go home, Gordon. The clown'll keep till morning. Go get some rest. You're gonna need it. Tomorrow you take the big job." Garcia and Gordon met each other's eyes. Garcia was smiling. "You don't have any say in the matter. Commissioner Gordon."
Gordon was speechless. It barely registered that people were clapping or Garcia was shaking his hand. Commissioner?
He turned to Stephens and Ramirez, shaking their hands. The clapping slowly died down until one lone clapper was heard.
Gordon glanced back to see it was the Joker. He had his arms fully extended in front of him and was slapping his hands together very loudly. There was absolutely no joy on his face. Something in his eyes chilled Gordon to the bone. He took Garcia's advice and went home.
…..
It wasn't long after Gordon left that another one of the Joker's thugs was shoved into the same cell with him. He barley moved his head to see who it was.
"Ahhh, it's…oh what's his name? Oh well, it's not gonna matter soon…"
The thug reached out to touch the bars with one hand and clung to his big belly with the other.
"I don't feel good," he moaned. He didn't look good either. His face was blotted red and he was sweating profusely.
"You're a cop killer. You're lucky to be feeling anything below the neck," a detective named Murphy spat hatefully.
The thug threw himself towards Murphy. "Please!" he begged.
"Step away from the bars!" a cop ordered.
"My insides hurt," the thug whimpered. He began to pant heavily.
No one noticed the Joker's smirk. Even if they had, it was gone in an instant, which left you wondering if you had even seen it in the first place. He knew what was going on…
"But I'm not telling…"
…
Gordon hadn't even been home for two hours when his cell phone rang. Now he was storming back into the MCU because of that phone call's message.
He found Ramirez, Murphy, and Stephens with a few others in the Observation room. Gordon peered through the glass windows to see the faint outline of the Joker in the Interrogation room.
"Has he said anything yet?" he asked. Ramirez shook her head. Gordon wasted no more time in heading for the next room.
He opened the heavy metal door and stepped inside. The room was one lamp and an emergency light away from being in complete darkness. Up ahead, the lamplight faintly illuminated the Joker's face, making him look like a ghostly specter.
"Evening, commissioneeeer," he drawled.
Gordon made his way to the center of the room and sat in a chair opposite of the Joker. He swept off any dust particles from the surface of the small table between them.
He sighed, linked his hands together, and looked up at the Joker's make-up smeared face.
"Harvey Dent never made it home." He told him.
"Of course not," the Joker replied simply.
"What have you done with him?"
The Joker feigned a look of shock and disbelief. "Me? I was right here." He lifted his manacled hands to display this fact. He lowered his hands only to immediately lift them again and point at Gordon. "Who did you leave him with? Hm? Your people?" He licked his bottom lip and eyed Gordon like he was suspicious of the man. "Assuming of course that they are still your people," he touched the right corner of his mouth with his tongue, "and not Maroni's."
Gordon remained silent and continued to stare at him. The Joker tilted his head to the side and pretended to be serious. "Does it depress you, commissioner…to know…just how alone you really are?... Does it make you feel responsible for Harvey Dent's current predicament-ah?"
"Where is he?"
The Joker was a bit annoyed at being cut off but pushed it aside. "What's the time?" he asked.
"What difference does that make?" Gordon asked tiredly. The people on the other side of the glass had to give him credit. Not once had he raised his voice.
"Weeell, depending on the time, he may be in one spot or several," he explained and wet his lips while spreading his hands out to emphasize his words.
Gordon dug out a key from his pocket and fiddled with it for a few seconds, never taking his eyes off the Joker. "If we're gonna play games," Gordon said as he unlocked the Joker's handcuffs.
"Mm-hm?" the Joker muttered.
"I'm gonna need a cup of coffee." Gordon rose from his seat and headed for the door.
"Aaah, the 'good cop, bad cop' routine?" The Joker clicked his mouth in amusement.
Gordon looked back at him. "Not exactly," he answered, mysteriously, and left the room.
The Joker sat back in his chair, curious as to what Gordon had meant by that remark.
He blinked when the lights suddenly flicked on. A split second later, a hand clamped onto the back of his head and drove it down hard onto the table with a loud BANG! The hand released his head, freeing him.
The Joker sat up, groaning, and lifted the back of his hand to his forehead. The Batman walked into his line of vision.
The Joker gave him a look that asked, "Was that really necessary?"
"Never start with the head, the victim gets all fuzzy; he can't feel the next-."
Batman nailed his elbow sharply onto the Joker's hand. He closed his eyes and peeked out when he felt no pain.
"See?" he asked childishly.
Batman took the chair Gordon had last been occupying and glared across the table at the clown. "You wanted me. Here I am," he stated coldly.
"I wanted to see what you'd do…" he leaned in towards Batman, "And you didn't disappoint. You let five people die…and then you let Dent take your place. Even to a guy like me, that's cold."
"Where's Dent?"
"Those mob fools want you gone so they can get back to the way things were." He slightly sing-songed the last words and fluttered his fingers in the air. He paused as he looked at Batman. The Joker shifted around in his seat and leaned forward on his arms on the table. "But I know the truth. There's no going back. You've changed things. Forever."
"Then why do you want to kill me?"
The question positively tickled the Joker. He laughed and bounced in his chair. He forced himself to speak between laughs.
"I don't, I don't want to kill you! What would I do without you? Go back to ripping off mob dealers? No, no, no! No, you, you complete me," he said earnestly as he pointed to himself.
"You're garbage who kills for money," Batman growled.
"Don't talk like one of them, you're not! Even if you'd like to be…To them, you're just a freak-ah. Like me. They need you right now, but when they don't…," he cocked his head to the side and lifted his eyebrows, "they'll cast you out. Like a leper. You see, their morals, their cooode…," his tongue darted across his lips, "it's all a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble." Again he wet his lips. It was beginning to get on Batman's nerves.
The Joker looked at him with narrowed eyes. "They're only as good as the world allows them to be. They'll show ya, when the chips are down, these, uh, these civilized people…they'll eat each other. See, I'm not a monster," he leaned back and bent forward again. "I'm just ahead of the curb."
Batman's hands shot out like lightning and grabbed him by his green vest. He hoisted the thin man over the table like he was weightless. The Joker didn't seem fazed at all.
"Where's Dent?" Batman demanded.
"You have all these rules and you think they'll save you," the Joker teased.
Batman turned and threw him against the wall, causing the detectives and new commissioner to fidget with worry. "He's in control," Gordon said, assuring. It was more to himself than to the officers.
Batman's spiked gauntlet was pressed against the Joker's throat while his hand was closed tightly around a fist full of the clown's shirt.
"I have only one rule," Batman rumbled.
"Oh! Then that's the rule you'll have to break to know the truth."
"Which is?"
"The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules, and tonight you're gonna break your one rule."
"I'm considering it."
"Well there's only eight minutes left, so you're gonna have to play my little game if you want to save one of them…" the Joker sneered childishly.
"…Them?" Batman repeated.
"You know, for awhile there," he grunted as he moved his neck to speak around the gauntlet's spikes poking his skin, "I thought you really were Dent, the way you threw yourself after her. Ha-!"
Batman shifted his hold and flipped the Joker onto his back hard against the surface of the table.
"Oh ha ha ha ha!"
Batman grabbed a chair and dragged it to the door.
"Look at you go!" The Joker wheezed as he eased himself up from the table.
Batman jammed the chair under the door handle. Gordon had raced to get to it in time but was too late. He just prayed Batman didn't rip the Joker apart.
The Joker groaned as he stretched and heard his back pop. "Does Harvey know about you and his little bunny?"
Batman grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the window. Web-like cracks appeared after the impact and a few shards of glass fell to the floor along with the Joker.
"Where are they?" Batman shouted.
"Killing is making a choice-."
A black fist drove into the side of his face. He hit the floor and pushed himself back up to a sitting position.
"Where are they?" Batman roared.
"Choose between one life or the other. Your friend the district attorney or his blushing bride to be!"
He started to laugh again when a blow was delivered to his head which nearly flipped him onto his stomach. He laughed anyway and didn't want to stop.
The Joker lifted himself up on his elbow. "You have nothing!" he shouted as he used a corner to boost himself up to face Batman. "Nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to do with all your strength."
He was jerked up by his vest again with Batman hovering over him. "Don't worry, I'm gonna tell you where they are, both of them. And that's the point. You have to choose."
He looked up at the ceiling as he recalled the addresses. "He's at 250 52nd Street and she's on Avenue X at Cicero."
Batman released him and stormed out of the room with the Joker's maniacal laughter following behind.
Gordon rushed to meet him. "Who are you going after?" he asked.
"Rachel!" Batman snapped.
…
The Joker spent a good ten minutes rolling on the floor, laughing. He sat up, groaning yet loving the pain all at once. He used the wall underneath the cracked glass as his backrest and giggled.
The sound of a door opening didn't escape his notice; he just chose not to look up at the moment to see who had been sent in to supervise him. He sat there, twiddling his thumbs and humming a tune he remembered from long ago. He didn't feel like making up his own melody right now.
Detective Stephens had been sent inside and was watching him with a cocked eyebrow. He recognized the song.
Why would a guy like the Joker be humming to the song 'Sway'?
The Joker's eyes moved around the room as he continued to hum and ignore Stephens. His gaze swept over the broken glass and moved on to something else.
'You complete me'…ha! Maybe he should use that on Samantha.
That put a halt to any other thoughts in his brain. A brief image of Allan Jordan and Samantha Reads dancing crossed his mind and was gone as soon as it came. He immediately stopped humming and began to speak to Stephens.
"I want my phone call. I want it, I want it, I want my phone call."
"That's nice," Stephens said, sarcastically.
The Joker looked down. "So that's how it's gonna be?"
He decided on a different tactic.
"How many of your friends have I killed?" he asked.
He looked at Stephens out of the corner of his eye. He could tell he had struck a nerve.
Stephens looked directly at him, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm a twenty year man and I know the difference between punks who need a little lesson in manners and the freaks like you who would just enjoy it. And you killed six of my friends."
The Joker mouthed the number 'six' like he was surprised.
…
"Please, my insides hurt," the thug begged.
He was holding himself up by clinging to the bars of his cell. His breathing was ragged and the sweating had increased.
"I don't really care; back off!" the cop said.
"The Boss said he'd make the voices go away. He said he'd go inside and replace them with bright lights, hee, hee, hee, like Christmas!"
"You're out of your mind, pal. Back off!"
The thug suddenly began to gag and collapsed onto his back. The cop spoke into his shoulder walkie-talkie and moved for the door.
"Come on, get the door open."
When the thug started to convulse, he began to worry. He stepped inside and pointed at the other prisoners who were slowly moving towards the sick thug.
"You guys back off!"
They stepped back.
…
The Joker studied the detective's face and knew that if he wanted to keep pressing his buttons, he needed to stay on the subject of Stephens' friends. He smirked.
"Do you wanna know," he licked his lips, "why I use a knife?"
Stephens made no reply but that suited him just fine.
"Guns are too quick. You can't savor all the… little…," he motioned with his hands and squinted his eyes as he tried to search for a word, "emotions."
He gave Stephens a side long glance. "You see, in their…last moments…people show you who they really are. So, in a way…I knew your friends better than you ever did." The Joker paused, licked his lips, and decided to deliver the final blow. "Would you like to know which of them were cowards?"
Stephens exhaled and removed his jacket. He took a few steps towards the Joker.
…
The paramedics had come and were now rolling up the thug's shirt to reveal hideous cuts that had recently been sown up. They were deep and had obviously cut him open. A large bump was visible in the man's skin.
"What is that?"
"Geez…" they whispered in disgust.
"He's got some kind of a," the paramedic paused to swallow; bile rising in his throat. "… contusion."
…
"I know you're going to enjoy this," Stephens said as he rolled up his sleeves.
The Joker popped his neck loudly to his left in one quick motion.
"But I'm gonna have to try an' enjoy it even more," Stephens told him.
Stephens grabbed him by the shirt. "This shirt wasn't cheap, you know," the Joker muttered.
Stephens scoffed. "Like I give a-."
The Joker's hand closed around his wrist and twisted Stephens' arm behind his back. The Joker was on his feet in a split second with a sharp knife sized shard of glass pressed against Stephens' throat. A chuckle escaped his lips asked as he nicked the detective's skin. A thin line of blood trickled down his neck.
"Come on, big boy, you're leading me out of here."
Stephens struggled the entire time, causing a few more cuts to appear on his throat.
They made it to the front room where the officers were and pandemonium broke out. Guns were drawn and aimed at the Joker.
"Put the weapon down!" Murphy ordered. "It was my own fault, just shoot him!" Stephens shouted.
Murphy was trying to say something but the Joker couldn't really catch what it was over the noise.
"What? I'm sorry?" he taunted.
"What do you want?" Murphy asked loudly.
The Joker grew still and looked very child like in his expression. "I just want my phone call," he said simply.
Murphy looked at him in disbelief at such a simple request. When he didn't respond immediately, the Joker pressed the sharp edge of the glass closer to Stephens' neck, making him wince and inhale loudly. Murphy slowly lowered his gun.
"Alright," he agreed. He dug out his own cell phone.
The Joker stretched out his left arm over Stephens' shoulder while keeping the knife in his right hand and against Stephens.
The cell phone was tossed and he caught it. He immediately flipped it open and began dialing with his thumb.
Stephens felt the blade make another cut and he made a noise.
"Oh sh sh sh sh," the Joker told him without looking. He put the phone next to his ear and listened to the sound of it ringing.
….
In the holding ward, the paramedics flinched when the bulge under the thug's skin lit up and started ringing.
"Is that a…phone?" the cop asked.
The sudden explosion that followed took them all by surprise.
…
He was the only one left standing in the room. Everyone was either knocked off their feet, unconscious, or dead. He looked around for a few seconds and then strolled over to the jail cells. He was a man on a mission; searching for a certain somebody. He found Lau cowering in the corner of his cell, shivering with fear.
The Joker saw a cop slumped over his chair. A ring of keys hung from his belt. The Joker fingered the keys and jerked on them hard. The string tied to the belt and ring tore and he smirked. Lau cringed even further into his corner as the Joker strolled over to him, shaking the keys.
"Hello there," he greeted in a low voice.
(Okay, so this was mostly from the movie but, I was having a really hard time thinking of how to put Samantha in this area of the movie. It sucks, I know but, hey, I updated! So let me know what you think of the few snippets of what I wrote that is not in the movie. I still would like to know if anyone has any good songs in mind for me to listen to. Till I update again, au voir! …. That's the fancy French way of saying 'good-bye'….. ain't I smart?)
