Gordon had given him directions to the warehouse where the Joker was holding his wife. It was the same place that Gordon had visited earlier and found empty. Harvey clenched his cell phone tightly in his fist. He wished he hadn't left Christine like that, but this might very well mean life or death. No one knew for sure when it came to the Joker. In fact, he might not even have Gordon's wife. It might've all been a trick to get Gordon and Harvey in an empty warehouse, away from Christine and Abigail. The thought sent shivers down Harvey's spine. If something happened to Christine because of this, because he wasn't watching over her, he would never forgive himself.

"Could you drive a little bit faster?" he ordered his driver through clenched teeth, glaring out of the window. How dare that madman put his hands on the Commissioner's wife? She was no part of that. There was no reason or logic with him, though. Everything was a game. Harvey and Gordon were just pawns, playing pieces. They sped through the black of night toward the address that Gordon had given him over the phone, his voice noticeably shaken.

When they finally arrived, Harvey nearly bolted out of the door and into the building. He was met by no one. Gordon was nowhere to be found. "Commissioner?" he called out into the large, empty space. His voice echoed softly in the high roof. "Is anyone here?" His eyes darted around the expanse, combing over every foot of wall, every tile, every window. The warehouse had been uninhabited for a very, very long time. Harvey cringed as he took a step forward and heard the distinct crack of a trod upon cockroach beneath his shoe.

Outside, there was a familiar churn of an engine. He ran to a window, wiping it clean of grime with his sleeve, just in time to see the car disappear into the distance. "What the fuck," he whispered to himself, his stomach suddenly uneasy. There was the crack of a footfall behind him and he jerked around to find no one there. If anyone was there, it was too dark to tell. His breath was now coming in short bursts as he pushed his back against the wall. "Who is that?"

A disturbingly loud chuckle came from nowhere, bouncing off of the walls around them, filling the large room. Having never heard that laugh before, not like that, it was by association only that he recognized it. It was too maniacal, too frightening to belong to just anyone. Harvey pressed himself harder against the wall, leaning the crown of his head against the clouded window. His lungs burned with each shallow breath, and his eyes widened as a man stepped into a square of moonlight before him.

He was wearing a well-tailored suit, comprised entirely of the colors purple and green. As Harvey's eyes trailed from his shoes to his face, he felt his knees crumble beneath him. He recognized the face on sight. After seeing it once, how could one not? His skin was painted a chalky white. His eyes were blackened. Across his mouth was a slash of bright red. It was the Joker. "You're surprisingly easy to get a hold of, Harvey," he drawled as he moved closer. "Being the District Attorney and all, I was expecting more of a wait."

"Where's Gordon?" Harvey asked, shutting his eyes as Joker closed in on him, standing mere inches away. "What have you done?"

"Ah, the Commissioner? He's with his wife, of course," he giggled, pushing Harvey's hair out of his eyes with a sweep of his gloved hand. "Whether that's a good thing or not, you'll never know!" He punctuated his sentence with a burst of high-pitched laughter, clearly amused by himself.

Harvey's stomach churned. "Where'd you bring them? He came here. He told me he was coming here."

Joker held up his index finger, "But, think of this, Dent. Did he say that because it's true or because I told him to?"

"You won't win, Joker," Harvey spat, "No matter how clever you think you are. You won't win."

At that, Joker frowned, stung by his words. "Well, you're no fun. I suppose I'll just have to find someone else, then, someone that'll humor me." He paused, licking his lips as he thought of a likely candidate. His eyes flashed and a smile shot across his mouth. "Maybe Christine will indulge me. Ooh, ehe, indulge." His eyebrows shot up as he backed away, throwing his arms open wide. "I already know she wants me."

Harvey lunged at Joker, but was thrown back against the wall by some unknown force. His head slammed against the window, shattering it. The pain seared down his back and over his skin as he slumped down onto the floor, his arms falling limp at his sides. His eyes fluttered open for just a moment, his vision blurred, and he watched as two men in clown masks went to Joker's side. They had done this.

He gave one sputtering cough before everything went black.

Back at Abigail's house, both she and Christine were waiting by the phone. Christine had her cell phone cradled in her lap and she stared down at it. Harvey had been gone for close to an hour now. Abigail's light sleep had been stirred by the slamming of her front door, and she'd rushed downstairs to see what had happened. Christine told her all of what happened, except for Harvey's proposal, and a feeling of dread had crept over both of them. One feared for the man she loved, and the other feared for the man that loved her.

"Where do you think they've gone?" Abigail asked from her spot on the couch, leaning her chin against her folded forearm. "Neither of them have called."

"I have no idea," Christine sighed from the chair across from her. "Harvey didn't say anything of importance to me. They could be anywhere." And with anyone…, she thought as she leaned her face against the cool fabric of the wing backed chair.

The quiet that settled over the room was broken by the ringing of Abigail's home phone, a strident sound. She lifted it up off of the base immediately, holding it to her ear. "Hello?" No one answered. "Hello?" she asked again. "Is anyone there?"

A heavy breath was the first thing she heard. Even the sigh was familiar. When the man spoke, tears sprung into her eyes. "Abigail, there's a car outside, waiting for you and Christine." It was Gordon. He spoke in an uneven, forced tone. "Go out to that car and get in. It will take you where you are needed." He took another shaky breath before launching into a quick string of words that he had not been instructed to say. "You'll be safe, I swear to God. Just get in the car!"

There was a dull thump and a gasp of pain. The tears in Abigail's eyes broke free, rolling down her cheeks, soaking into her blouse. "Jim!" she cried, clutching at the arm of the sofa with her free hand. "Listen here, you bastard! If you hurt him, I'll - "

She was cut off by a rip of laughter and a dial tone.

"What?" Christine nearly shouted, having jumped from the chair. "Who was that? Was it Gordon? Has he seen Harvey?"

"I don't know," Abigail whimpered as she stared at the phone before setting it back down on the base. "It was Gordon. There's a car outside waiting for us. It's going to take us to them." She stood up from the couch on shaking legs and wiped at her eyes. "We have to go. He'll hurt him if we don't."

When she realized that Christine wasn't following her, Abigail turned around. Her friend was staring at her, her mouth agape. "You're going to give me up to the Joker to save Gordon? I'm your best friend. How could you do something like that to me?"

Abigail's face became skewed with confusion. "You want to be with him, Christine! I'm giving you what you want."

"It's true that I want to be with him, but under these circumstances? As a prisoner? No. Just no."

Christine watched as Abigail's face transitioned from confusion to rage. "I don't care what you want, Christine. If you do not leave this house and get into that car with me, I'll move you myself," her eyes narrowed and she pointed a shaking finger toward the door, "Now, are you going to come with me or do I have to drag you out of here?"

There was a seriousness to her words that caused goosebumps to rise on Christine's arms. She meant every word of what she said. Abigail was a lot larger than her and no doubt capable enough. With that realization, Christine nodded, defeated, and left the room, sliding past her to get to the door first. When she opened it and saw Harvey's car, she nearly screamed.

"Something's happened," she exclaimed. "Something's happened to Harvey! His driver would have never left him!"

She was nudged out of the door by Abigail, who shut the door behind them both and locked it. "Get into the car," she ordered, following her down the walk to the street. "Don't pay any mind to anything that happens between now and arriving at our destination. I won't. Just… keep your eyes on your lap."

Christine nodded, opening the back door and nearly collapsing onto the leather seat. The last time she'd been in this car, it had been with Harvey. In fact, the air inside of the vehicle still smelled faintly of his cologne.

With both of their minds reeling, the ride was a significantly short one. This meant that either the place where they were meeting was closer than they expected or that people in distress had no sense of time or place. When the car slowed to a stop, Abigail climbed out of the car as quickly as she could, her eyes flashing around the site in an attempt to place their location.

It appeared to be an abandoned restaurant. There was a sign out front that had probably once had a name painted on it, but the paint had long since flaked off and the metal had rusted. The front door was open, and inside she could hear something that sounded like mumbled conversation. She curled her long-fingered hand around Christine's wrist and tugged her in the direction of the entrance. She took no precautions. She did not call into the door to see if someone would answer. She did not look this way or that. She moved quickly and quietly into the dining room, ignoring all possible consequences to her foolhardiness.

Where there had once been tables with quaint checkered tablecloths, there was nothing. The bar was covered with old bottles, some empty, some full. In the corner, an ancient jukebox stood, its glass face smashed in. At the far wall, two people were seated, tied with their backs to each other, cloth haphazardly fixed around their mouths to keep them from screaming.

It was Gordon and who she assumed was his wife. Abigail rushed forward in his direction, but was intercepted by the sound of shattering glass. She twirled in the direction of the bar to see Joker kicking the glass bottles from the bar top as he moved closer to them. With each step he took, there was another bottle of booze in his way. He was balanced on the thin wooden bar by outstretched arms, and he laughed as he kicked a full bottle of vodka against the wall, its contents darkening the already molding wood.

When he was at the end of the bar, he looked up at Abigail and smiled. Even in the near complete darkness, it sent a chill through her. "Welcome," he murmured, jumping down from the bar. He stuck his landing, dusting off his jacket and popping its collar before moving closer to her. She shrunk back from his touch as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "A nice place for a reunion, don't you think?"

Before Abigail was able to give her scathing reply, Christine cleared her throat behind both of them. Joker glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight of her. He hadn't expected Abigail to bring her. He had hoped she would, but not expected. No one ever agreed to his plans, especially not any like this. "Is this really necessary, J?" she asked. Her disappointment in him was clear through her voice. "All of this for me?"

He let go of Abigail and turned on his heel, heading back toward Christine. "You don't understand, but that's okay." He smoothed his hand over her hair, looking down at her with a surprisingly tender look in his eye. "They," he said, tossing his head backwards in the direction of the others gathered, "don't understand. This is how I'm going to get them to grasp the concept, Christine."

"J, please, stop being so cryptic. Tell me what this is."

"It's what you see before you," he said softly, "People scrambling with every sense they have to save those that they want."

They watched as Abigail ran across the floor to Gordon, falling to her knees in front of him and fumbling to untie the cloth that was choking him. When she touched the back of his head in an attempt to untie the knot, she felt something warm and sticky. Pulling her hand up to her eyes, she realized with horror that it was blood. The recognition hit her in the chest. He wasn't struggling like his wife was. His head was hanging, his chin pressed against his chest, his eyes closed.

She shuddered as she lifted the cloth away from his mouth and tossed it aside. The back of it was turned red with the blood. "James," she pleaded, running her fingers over his cheeks. They'd gone a sickly shade of pale. "Come on. Wake up." She let out a sob and slumped down against his knees, curling her arm around her head. Christine shut her eyes as Abigail gave a piercing scream, muffled only by Gordon's thigh.

"He's not dead," Joker stated plainly.

At the sound of his voice, Abigail lifted her tear stained face from Gordon's lap. "You," she growled, struggling to stand. "You did this to him!"

"Of course I did. Who else would have?"

She rushed at him, grasping him by the lapels and thrusting him against the wall. The old picture frame a yard off quivered and then fell from its nail, crashing onto the floor. "You weren't supposed to hurt him. None of this was supposed to happen. I brought you Christine." Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes frighteningly bright. She pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it. Her strength was the adrenaline that burned through her veins. "You better fucking explain!"

"Why? It's no use. I can't exactly turn back time."

"You better hope, for your safety, that he isn't dead, that no permanent damage has been done. Because if there is, I swear to God, I will kill you." The terror that any normal person would have felt was wasted on her. She could not be afraid of him. She felt nothing but anger. She looked into his painted face, and she wanted nothing more than to see it bruised and bloody.

Christine gasped, her hands going to Abigail's arm, trying to yank her away from him. "Abigail! Stop it! You're hurting him!"

Joker looked down at Abigail, a sick grin on his face. With every injury, he only began to giggle louder. Before long, he could hardly breathe. "You won't kill me!" he snorted, "You wouldn't dare! You know how Christine feels about that."

Abigail's upper lip curled into a sneer. "Do you honestly think I give a damn about what she wants anymore?" Her knuckles gleamed white as she twisted harder on his shirt, choking him. He coughed, chuckling. "He wasn't supposed to get hurt."

Behind her, there was a cough. She let go of Joker immediately and watched as he slid down onto the floor, smoothing his hands over his jacket. Turning away from him, she saw that Gordon had lifted his head up and was looking around the room. It was clear by the confused look on his face that he couldn't see anything.

She ran to him, falling to her knees as she had just moments before. "Oh, James," she whispered, her hand going to turn his face to hers. "You're not dead, thank God."

"Abigail," Gordon rasped, looking down at her, his eyes searching for a face that he couldn't see. "Abigail, my wife. Is she okay?" There was a hope in his eyes that made her sick to her stomach. He didn't care about her. He was only worried about his wife's well being. Abigail's shoulders slouched, and she did not respond.

Joker gave a low, mocking chuckle. "Not exactly the climax that you were expecting, Abby?"

"She's… she's fine," Abigail stammered, ignoring Joker's comment. She stood from her place on the floor and turned to him, all anger gone from her person. How could she be anything but overcome? "You can have Christine, if you set both of them free. If you do that for me, you can have her."

He stood, a thoughtful smile coating his features. "That's not all I want." He walked over to her, his strides slow, unhurried. "I want you," he paused, sliding his gloved hand along the width of her shoulders. Leaning near to her ear, he whispered, "as an ally."

"What?" she gasped. "What? Why me?"

Joker moved over to Gordon, covering his ears so that he wouldn't hear. Jim tossed his head this way and that, recognizing the touch. He bent over, shushing him. "I want you because he trusts you. You'll get me into the system."

"Your censoring will do no good," Abigail interjected. "You're not covering her ears."

"Ah, true." He bent over backwards so that his mouth was close to the woman's ear. "It wouldn't be wise to say anything about this to your husband. Do you understand?"

When he had finally cut the rope tying two parts of the Gordon family to the chairs, he let them go, ordering the driver of Dent's car to get them home safely. "You're going to be a hero, Abigail," he smirked, watching at the window as the car disappeared in the distance. "You'll be very busy in the next few days. You know how excited the news gets over someone saving a life. And just think… you saved two."

"But there's one unaccounted for," Abigail said from the chair that Gordon had been sitting on. She crossed her legs and leaned against the back of it, staring at Joker with a blank expression. "We're missing Gotham's White Knight."

Joker turned back from the window and gave a wide smile. "They're missing him, sure, but I know exactly where he is."