Chapter 10: Dance with Madness
Over the next month, Joker became increasingly agitated. He'd heard no news on Jonathan Crane, which could only mean he was still locked up at Arkham. And again, no more word on this "Batman". He was getting extremely impatient by now.
"What does a clown have to do around here?" he mumbled to himself. "Blow something up?"
He stomped over to the tv, turning it on, growing angry as he scanned through the channels. There was just nothing new on. Nothing on either Crane or "Batman". It was enough to drive anyone insane!
He glared at the tv, tempted to throw the control right through the screen, but kept his temper. If he destroyed the tv now, he could miss something important. Instead, he shut it off and stormed over to his castle, heading inside and making his way to the top, throwing himself on the ledge and laying there, moping.
Even though it was night, he took no joy from the darkness.
As often as this bat character had shown up on the news, he certainly wasn't making any appearances now. Joker was hoping for any small clue for him to give himself away. He wanted to get a closer look at the guy.
Grr... What should I do? Lure him out? No. I might get caught before I'm ready. I don't know what he's capable of. Joker rolled over onto his side, frowning, staring out across the warehouse. Sure, it was an abandoned party favor factory, but until he could find something to entertain himself with, it was...boring.
He rolled back over, pulling the remote from his pocket and clicking the tv on. He nearly fell off the stone when a newscast came across the screen.
Jumping to the floor, the clown zipped over to his chair, jumping in it and cranking the volume up.
"Steve, I'm standing in front of Gotham Access Systems, where a hostage situation is taking place," a petite young blond woman was saying. "Not too long ago, a man in all black entered the building, shot the floor executive, then proceeded to make his way to the top floor. We have no visual on what's going on inside, but so far we know that all police attempts to get inside have failed."
Joker eyeballed the screen curiously, remembering when his old self had worked there. What a drab, dreary place that place had been. If it was a disgruntled worker doing this, he really didn't blame them.
Then he paused, a smile curling his lips up.
If the police can't get inside, would this bat character be willing to take a stab at it? This might be my chance to finally see this guy.
With that in mind, the harlequin dashed over to the desk where his hoodie lie over the chair. He grabbed it on his way past, slipping it on over his straightjacket as he bolted out the door.
I I I
Joker marched down the sidewalk, head lowered to hide his face. As he neared the building, he slipped into a nearby alley. A mob of people crowded tightly by the police barriers, the police doing their best to keep the crowd back. He could hear orders being shouted over the hubbub, nearly drowned out in the noise.
He glanced up, trying to take in the situation. So far all he could see was a crush of people, a squad of police surrounding the front, and a van of FBI agents getting ready to storm the building.
A gunshot rang out as the squad agent leader attempted to get near the door, making the crowd flinch and cry out.
The harlequin smiled to himself. Whoever was in there liked people to know who was boss. If it wasn't for the fact Joker was waiting for a certain someone, he may have tried to ambush the man himself for a challenge.
He suddenly caught movement along the back of the building, hidden well away from the crowd. Blinking, the clown glanced at the crowd, then raced through the alley, taking off around the corner and flattening himself to the wall, creeping towards the far street.
The sound of a small ratchet noise whirring caught his attention as he peeked around the corner. A man in all black was crouched by the base of the building, fiddling with something. A moment later, he shot into the air by means of a grapple gun, making Joker gawk.
This had to be the guy he was after. He didn't know of anyone else that had been accused of having such fun toys to play with.
He watched the man disappear through a window, deep in thought. So the Batman carried toys, he could beat up heavily armored drug dealers... Joker's twisted mind whirled.
Now there's only one thing left to see. How this guy fights. Is he a clean fighter, dirty fighter, or strictly all gadgets?
A crazy thought entered his mind.
What am I standing here for? This is the chance I've been waiting so long for! I need to get in there and see what he's capable of!
With that, the crazy clown raced to the back of a building, elbowed a glass window and jumped inside. Granted, any sane person would've thought the idea suicidal. To actually go into a building with a man who's actions were unknown was just plain suicidal. To Joker, it was playtime.
He crept silently down the hall, keeping a sharp lookout. As much as he wanted to see this bat character in action, he himself didn't want to be seen or heard yet. He wasn't ready. Yet.
His feet made no sound as he quietly padded down a hall, keeping low, ready to duck should a gunshot ring out. His excitement getting the best of him, the clown realized his breathing was coming out heavy and ragged. He stood still a moment, collecting himself, then snuck off down the hall, peeking around the corner.
Joker made to step into the hall, then suddenly dove under a nearby desk, clamping a hand tightly over his mouth and nose. A black boot landed where he'd been standing a second later.
Red eyes glinting, the clown made no move to see his unknown companion. He knew who this was and he had no intentions of getting arrested so soon.
Another boot stepped into view as the vigilante moved off down the hall at a brisk pace. A door closed at the end of the hall soon after, but Joker didn't move. He'd watched enough movies to know he wasn't out of danger quite yet.
A smash came from behind him and he winced. It'd sounded dangerously close to him. Peeking through a gap in the desk back cover, he could see the Batman guy searching the room.
Narrowing his eyes to slits, Joker watched as the masked man turned, heading back down the hall to the door. This time, the door opened and the black cape slipped through before the light shut out with a click.
The clown crawled out of his hiding place slowly, wary in case that door happened to open quickly again.
Standing, he looked around, sighing quietly.
Okay. Very sneaky. I can deal with that. He's good. Very good.
Joker's mind whirled a mile a minute as he crept quietly down the hall, taking a different route than his caped companion. He knew this building like the back of his hand, he knew all the twists and turns. Instead of taking the door, Joker turned a left at the end of the hall, pushing into an executive's office.
The room was pitch black except for the moonlight that filtered through the blinds, casting dark prison bars on the walls and anything in its way. Joker glanced down at himself as he moved towards a far door, looking at the shadows thrown across his hoodie, imagining his straightjacket underneath.
I simply will not look good in prison garb. No fun colors at all.
He reached out, slowly opening the door with a soft click, peeking his head out. The coast was clear. Just as he was about to head down the hall to the right, gunfire rang out from the one to the left, startling him.
A series of muffled thumps and thuds told him a fight was already well underway.
Keeping to his cautious creep, the harlequin tiptoed down the hall, lowering himself as he peered around the corner.
Black gloved fists struck again and again with the terrorist, driving him back against the wall, guns clattering out of his hands. The man shouted as he took a blow to the gut, toppling over and to the floor, unconscious.
Joker stared, feeling something stir in him as the masked man bent down and scooped up the weapons. Something must've triggered in the air. Not a second later, the white eyes turned in Joker's direction, but he was gone already.
He tore down a flight of stairs like the madman he was, hearing noises behind him as he raced down the hall, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Pausing at a room, Joker quickly dove inside, making his way over to a small cabinet and slipping inside, quietly closing the door shut behind him.
Minutes ticked by as he waited, keeping his breathing quiet. Finally, he heard a rustle enter the room, narrowing his eyes. The sound passed the cabinet and he heard a crashing noise of chairs and tables being thrown and upended.
As he waited and listened to the noise, it occurred to him his pursuer might not think to even look in the cabinet. Joker had squeezed himself in with ease and he realized no normal human man would even be able to fit where he was at the moment.
He heard angry footsteps leave the room and cautiously opened the door. No one was waiting for him as he crawled out, standing up. Below him, the next floor down, he could hear shouts and muffled whispering.
I gotta get out of here before I'm the one caught.
The clown glanced around the room, spotted a window and opened it, glancing back behind him. It seemed that the Batman had taken a different route out. He hopped up onto the windowsill to see where he was, then smiled. Twenty feet below him, soft grass waited. He jumped, landing nimbly and scurried off into the brush as lights shone out the window he'd just jumped from.
I I I
"God, that was so exciting! I MUST do it again sometime!" Joker cackled, dancing around the castle. He flung his hoodie off, nearly tap-dancing in his excitement.
He raced over to a chalkboard, studying a handful of newspaper clippings taped there. Titles and headlines screamed out about the Batman, different pictures strewn out in between the clippings.
Joker had witnessed the takedown himself and had escaped with ease. The very thought made him giggle, clapping his hands together excitedly.
His eyes narrowed as he smirked at the chalkboard, crossing his arms in thought. This Batman was certainly a fun character to tango with. He was the very opposite of what Joker seemed to be and that would make the challenge even better.
The tv played softly behind Joker as he looked over the chalkboard, deep in thought. He glanced back time to time, ready to rush over the moment something was said about his new playmate.
As he stared at the chalkboard, sunlight started to filter through the filthy windows, making him pause and look over. He blinked, then rubbed at his eyes. He'd been standing there all night.
No matter. I know Batsy's way of fighting now. He paused, then giggled, liking the sound of the nickname. He prefers psychical fighting and I can only assume he'll use his weapons, given the chance. I'll have to be careful at first, but this should be child's play. Plus he won't be expecting ME.
He moved over to his chair, plopping down in it and curling up, glancing at the ceiling. A momentary feeling of sadness washed over him, making him frown. Something was bothering him, he could feel it on the edge of his crazed mind...but he just couldn't tell what it was. Sighing, Joker yawned, then curled up more, getting comfy, shutting his eyes. He'd sleep the day off, save his energy, then plan his next move.
I I I
Jack smiled happily as his childish fingers slipped another card on top of the pile. He was sitting in the shade of a large oak tree by the pond, occasionally looking out at the water as he attempted to build a card house.
Ducks and geese slowly patroled the water, honking at each other time to time, a family of ducks flying in over head and touching down in the water with a splash. Dogs romped with their owners on the other side of the park, racing back and forth with each other.
Still smiling, Jack looked around at everything, feeling happy in the day. His mother had brought him to Gotham Central Park to play for his seventh birthday. He didn't want a party or anything special. Why bother? He had no friends.
Turning back to his cards, he set another one up, trying to making it stay. A gust of wind quickly knocked his hard work down and he pouted, crossing his arms.
"Mom, the stupid wind knocked down my card house again! "
"Honey, just play nicely. It's not the wind's fault," his mother replied distractedly from the bench nearby, her nose stuck in a book. She shifted her glasses on her nose, glancing at her son. "Why don't you feed the birds? That'll give you something to do."
Jack stared at his mother as she returned to her book, then frowned. Sure, no one cared about how much he loved his cards. He looked out at the water, sighing, unhappy now. Just to make his mother happy, he went over to her purse and picked up the bag with bread crumbs in it. He walked back over to the pond bank and sat down on the bank, slowly handing out crumbs to the chattering birds.
He watched as they swam over, pecking the morsels from his hand, not really taking any joy in it. Out of frustration, he finally dumped the remains in the water, nearly causing himself to be lost in a sudden wave of wings and feathers, and stumbled back up to his little play area.
As beautiful as the day was, with the birds twittering, the sun shining brightly, and delicious food smells wafting through the park, Jack found no happiness in the day. He curled up by his cards, staring at them, feeling tears well up.
Before they'd come to the park, his mother had baked him a birthday cake. His father had been absent from the little party... Probably out drinking again. Whenever his mother had set the cake down in front of him, she'd asked him what he wished for. Jack had never told her, out of superstition that if wouldn't come true if he told, but what he really wanted for his seventh birthday...was a friend.
Just one single friend that he could hang out with, to laugh and play with each other, do little boy stuff. Someone he could tell all his problems to and make them go away.
But instead, all he'd gotten was a trip to the park to play by himself near the pond with only his cards to keep him company.
He brushed away the tears, sniffling a little, picking up his cards and shuffling them up. Carefully, he started on the card house again, hoping the wind wouldn't take it again.
A sudden sound of honking and laughter caught his attention and he lifted his head, trying to find the source of the noise. A bush to his left blocked his view to the pond, sloping down towards the water.
Quacking in protest, a small group of ducks rose over the bush, wings flapping madly, racing past Jack as they rose into the air.
Jack blinked in utter confusion, watching the ducks fly off, then glanced back at the bush as a rustling came from it. A moment later a boy not much older than himself barreled through, giggling and laughing, his eyes set on the fleeing ducks.
Within seconds, the second boy had crashed into Jack, both of them falling to the ground in a mess of limbs and yelling, the little card house getting flattened as they rolled. They came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, trying to untangle themselves.
"Ow... Aw, geez, I sorry," the second kid told him, getting off him and standing up. He reached down, taking Jack's hand and helping him up, biting his lip. "I didn't know anyone was playing on the other side of the bush."
Jack brushed himself off, looking at the kid, blinking. "Um...that's okay. You scared me when you came through like that though."
The kid rubbed the back of his neck, watching Jack, then smiled at him. "I'm Jonny. Jonny Crane. I'm still sorry about that."
Jack paused, then smiled back, nodding. "Jack Napier. It's fine." He glanced back at the card house he'd been building, then looked back at Jon. "You really squished my cards."
Both giggled at each other, looking at the bent cards.
"Sorry, but you know what? They look better that way," Jon grinned at him.
Grinning, Jack looked at the cards, then at him. "Maybe we could try rebuilding again. But I dunno how we're gonna do that with bent cards."
Jon reached into his pocket, smiling, then pulled out a fresh deck of cards. "Maybe we can use mine."
"You play cards too?" Jack asked, amazed.
"Sure do," Jon replied.
They walked back up to the play area, sitting down and trying to set the cards up. Jack sat down opposite to Jon, smiling, setting up two of the cards.
"So, who're you here with?" Jon asked, looking up at him. "My dad brought me here to play frisbee."
Jack paused in the cards, feeling emotion cloud his head. Could he really put his trust in this strange kid? Could he really trust that he wouldn't be hurt again or pushed and shoved around?
He slowly looked up at Jon, suddenly feeling very shy. "...my mom brought me here for my seventh birthday. My dad...um... My dad doesn't do much with me, so my mom brought me."
Jon watched him, looking genuinely interested. "You're seven today?" Jack nodded. "Well, happy birthday!" Jon grinned, cuffing him lightly across the back of the head. "So what'd you wish for?"
Fidgeting with the cards in his hands, Jack looked at them, then back up at Jon, biting his lip. "I wished for a friend for my birthday..."
The sounds of twittering birds and honking geese filled the silence that suddenly engulfed the little area around the pond. Jon dropped a card that has been resting at the end of his hand, staring at him oddly.
"You...don't have a friend?"
Jack stared down at his hands, immediately wishing he hadn't said anything. It had been a stupid thing to say...
"No... Everyone likes to beat me up and call me names. I try to be nice to them, but they just shove me away and stuff..." Jack mumbled, still staring at his hands.
Jon stared at him, quiet for a long moment, then moved a bit closer, trying to get Jack to look at him. "I'll be your friend. Your best friend." He watched Jack a moment more, then smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, people pick on me too. They call me Scarecrow because I'm so skinny."
Jack looked up at him, wiping away the tears that had been welling up. "Really? You don't look like there's anything wrong with you."
Jon shrugged, smiling. "I don't let things like that get to me. Sticks and stones, right?" He paused, spotting something on his new friend's arm. "What's that?" He pointed at it.
Quickly yanking his sleeve down over the dark bruise on his arm, Jack looked away from him. "It's nothing. I wasn't careful one day and fell down the stairs."
Silence reigned once more as Jon stared at him thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say something when they were interrupted.
"Jack, time to head back to the house," his mother called.
Both boys looked at each other, looking worried.
"Aw, we just met," Jon complained, crossing his arms.
Jack looked at him, saddened, not wanting to leave his first new friend.
"Jack!" his mother called again, louder this time.
Jack bit his lip, picking the bent cards up, tucking them into his pocket as he stood up. "I better go..."
"Wait." Jon grabbed his arm, below the bruise, and Jack flinched. Jon immediately let go, eyes wide, biting his lip, then stood up next to him. "Sorry... What if our parents got our addresses? We could go to each other's house and play or something."
Jack watched him a moment, looking for any tricks or lies, deciding there was none, then smiled. "That'd be cool."
Jack led the way as they pushed through the bush, going over to the bench where his mother waited, startling her.
"Mom, this is my new friend, Jonny. He ran into me when he was chasing some ducks."
Jon smiled up at Mrs. Napier, nodding. "Can we hang out more? He's really fun to mess with." He punched Jack's other arm playfully and Jack returned the punch, giggling.
Mrs. Napier smiled, nodding, then turned to pick her book up. "Of course. Just let me find a piece of paper and pen for your address."
Jon turned to look at Jack, all smiles. "I promise not to let anyone hurt you ever again and never let anything happen to you."
"Never let anything happen to you..."
I I I
Joker woke with a start, screaming once, flailing madly before falling right off his chair, hitting the concrete floor with a yelp. He huddled on the floor, shaking madly, staring into the face of his own madness for a moment, hearing ghostly words echoing in his mind.
As the words began to fade from his mind, he started to calm down, his heart rate returning to its somewhat normal rhythm. His shaking subsided into a brief adrenaline rush, still feeling a bit shaky as he pushed himself up off the floor.
Sitting up, Joker peeked over the chair as if expecting someone else to be in the warehouse with him. Senses on high alert, he quickly scanned the entire room to make sure he really was alone, then crawled back up into his chair, holding his head.
"What the hell was that?" he asked himself, feeling lost."Who's... What just happened?" He blinked twice, sitting still. Try as he might, Joker couldn't remember a thing from the dream that had just occurred, leaving him confused for a moment.
However, his confusion didn't last long. Once he figured out that he couldn't dredge anything up from the dream, he pushed the thought aside and brought his mind back to current events. The channel he'd had the tv set to had gone off air, leaving a hiss of static to fill the area he was in.
Joker yawned, stretching his limbs out and flexing his toes, then rolled over up out of his chair, going over to the tv and turning the channel, looking for anything good. Commercials, shows, and movies flipped past without a second thought, making his anger grow.
Deeply annoyed, he shut the tv off, staring at it a moment, a distant memory coming back to him. There'd been someone else who'd picked on him, someone big... Who was it?
Glaring at the tv in frustration, Joker worked his mind, trying to sort of the thoughts, trying to remember.
A day at the park, a dog attacking a large man, a man wearing biker clothing...
Joker's eyes narrowed. He remembered the biker dude vividly now. He was almost as bad as the teens he'd gotten rid of before. He'd hurt him in a different way, but it didn't matter. He still deserved to be punished.
The clown closed his eyes in thought, wondering how to even find the man, let alone how to hurt him back. He stood still for a few minutes, working a few ideas in his mind, playing out the results before finally settling on one. He grinned, opening his eyes, then turned, racing out the door of his warehouse.
I I I
Two days later, Joker's excitement grew tenfold as he slammed a dusty yearbook down on his desk. He flipped the pages open, stopping at a torn page, glaring at it. It'd taken a while to find out where the biker was at the moment, but he'd finally figured it out.
Bucky. His old elementary school friend. He remembered Bucky very well. The features, now that he thought about it, were the very same as both a kid and an adult.
True to the bully he was, Bucky was the biker that had harassed him before. But now that the clown had located him at a bar near the edge of the city, he could finally take care of one more little pest.
Joker slammed the book shut, staring at it for a moment. His mind whirled, tucking the important information away that he'd found over the past few days, then he turned. Grabbing a few toys and tucking them into the folds of his hoodie, he threw it on and headed out into the night.
Within an hour, Joker found himself moving down the street towards an old-fashioned biker bar. Motorcycles were parked out front, forming a row from one end of the building to the other. He paused in the shadows, watching carefully, pulling up info in his mind.
Bucky was now the owner of this particular bar, a very well known building for the resident bikers in the city. At the moment, it looked like a full house, which would mean he'd have to wait for all the other annoyances to go home. But oh, what a sweet moment this would be once Bucky stepped foot out of the bar.
Joker watched the bar carefully, backing into the darker shadows as a group came out. Instead of getting on one of the motorcycles, they turned and walked off down the street together.
He narrowed his eyes. It would nearly kill him to wait, but once they were gone, he would get his chance.
I I I
The harlequin spent three boring hours amusing himself in a dirty alley, making his own little games, scaring the resident cats of the alley, and torturing himself in his own mind. He finally came out of his thoughts as the jingle of a bell rang over to him, getting his attention.
He peeked out around the edge of the alley, watching as the beefy man came out of the bar, turned, locked it and moved off down the street.
Joker's heart leapt into his throat. This was the moment he'd be waiting for. And if he could just play his cards right, he'd have his revenge in the sweetest of ways.
Waiting for Bucky to move farther off down the sidewalk, Joker slipped out of the alley and crept after him casually, keeping the hood up tight around his face, hands in his pockets. Anyone none the wiser would see a bulky man walking down the street with a straggly barefooted person behind him.
Thoughts whirled in Joker's mind as he kept pace with him, a grin on his face, imagining all he could do to him.
He pulled himself out of his thoughts as Bucky turned off down a dark-lighted street. This is what Joker had been waiting for.
Quietly, the clown turned after him, glancing around before shucking his hoodie and setting it down near a trash can, pulling a box over it so no one would see it. A crazed look came into his eyes as he slipped into the shadows.
Bucky sighed, glancing up at the bright moon, touching the folded bills of cash in his pocket. He'd done well for the night. But then again, anyone in the area was willing to come into the bar for a few extra drinks.
He yawned, slipping his hands into his pockets, heading off down the street that would eventually take him to his apartment.
A sudden crash of a trash can lid made him look back, startled. A black cat stared at him before moving off, a mouse hanging out of its mouth.
"Stupid cat," he grumbled, watching it go, then turned, heading off again. He didn't get five feet before he heard another sound.
"Buuuuckkkyy..." a voice drawled.
He turned, staring off into the darkness, confused. It'd sounded like a child's way of getting one's attention, only...deeper.
"Hello?" he asked the darkness. He waited a moment, even more confused when no one answered.
Turning, he shook his head, taking another step.
"Bucky!" a voice squealed from somewhere above him.
Bucky quickly looked up, eyes narrowed, searching for the one that was calling to him. Again, he was met with only darkness.
"If this is a bunch of kids pulling a joke, you'd better leave before I get mad," he shouted at the shadows. "I ain't in the mood to be messed around with and you really don't want to be on the business end of my knife."
He waited a moment for an answer, nodding in satisfaction when he heard footsteps taking off.
"Damn kids..." He glanced once over his shoulder, then made his way off down the street again.
"Damn bullies," a voice from behind him said.
Bucky whirled, startled, pulling his knife and brandishing it at the air, blinking when he hit nothing. There was no one behind him. Not even the cat he saw earlier.
"What the hell...? Am I going crazy?" he murmured to himself. He kept his knife drawn, searching carefully for anything or anyone that might've called his name.
Finding nothing again after a few long moments, he turned, moving off down the street at a brisk pace.
Quiet footsteps from beside him made Bucky turn again, aiming his knife at whatever might be there. Once again, nothing but the rustling of newspapers up against the wall being moved from the breeze of the wind.
Growing a bit alarmed, he broke out into a jog, hurrying down the street. A figure stepped into the streetlight ahead of him and he stopped, staring.
A clown stood in the middle of the light, head hung low, the sleeves of a weird jacket dangling by its feet. He could hear a quiet noise coming from the clown, almost like crying. The head lowered more, the clown's mane of green hair bobbing, hanging over its face.
Bucky stared at the clown, dumbfounded. A clown in the middle of the street in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night? What was going on?
Another sob-sound came from the clown, making him blink. Was this person hurt? Were they lost?
He slowly started moving towards the clown, cautious.
"Hello?" he asked timidly, watching the clown. "Are you okay?"
Instead of answering, the harlequin seemed to cringe, shying away from him, backing out of the light into an alley, its outline still visible in the alleyway.
"If you're hurt, I might be able to help," Bucky said, moving closer. He was still cautious, but a bit worried now.
The clown moved off away from him, carrying a limp he hadn't noticed before. The sobbing sound came again and Bucky made up his mind. This was a person in trouble who needed help and he was the only one around to do so.
"Hey, man, if you need help, don't move away, I can help–" he said, quickly moving after the clown. He froze in the streetlight, staring at the horror before him.
The clown flipped back its mane of hair, turning to look at him. Blazing red eyes glared at him, a horrible grin stretched across the clown's lips. Up close, he could see nothing was wrong with this person, other than the fact that the clown's grin creeped him out.
"Hiya, Bucky..." a child-like voice came from the clown. The grin stretched even wider, impossibly wide for a human to do so.
Bucky wasn't sure what to make of this, staring at the clown. How did he know Bucky's name? Why did it seem like something about this clown was familiar? And, worst of all, why was the clown staring at him like that?
The clown blinked at him, then frowned, seemingly upset.
"Oh, dear," he said in a high-pitched voice. "It seems I've startled you." The tone deepened again. "I apologize, but you see, I really wanted your attention."
"Uh...excuse me?" Bucky replied, confused.
A smirk played at the edge's of the clown's lips as he looked at Bucky.
"Once again, I apologize." The freak waved his hand in a flourish and Bucky watched the sleeve drop over his hand, revealing a card. He shoved it into Bucky's hand, grinning widely. "The name's Joker."
Bucky yelped in surprise, jerking his hand back, looking at the blood on his fingertips. He glared at the clown, then glanced at the card. Blood glistened along the edges, making him curious. A normal card wouldn't do that. In fact, it felt almost metallic, like metal...
"How did you-?" Bucky glanced up, blinking again. The freak was gone.
He looked back down at the card in his hand, completely lost. The clown had given him his card...then gone and disappeared on him. Just plain strange.
Still confused, Bucky went to drop the card to the ground, then paused when he heard a hissing noise. He looked around, trying to find the source, then felt a tickling sensation on his face. He looked back down at the card.
Turning the card over, he saw the back was glowing an eerie green, fumes seeping out of the swirly design on it. Dropping the card, his mind began to feel cloudy and he dropped to his knees, vision swimming.
Two bare feet stepped into view and his head was jerked up. Joker's face swam into view as he squinted at him, trying to focus.
"What did you...do to me?" Bucky mumbled.
Joker tilted his head, watching him, a curious look in his eyes.
"Oh, nothing much. Just something to mind your numb your mind for the moment." Another flash of that grin and Bucky's head dropped to his chest.
He wobbled on his knees for a moment, then collapsed onto his side, coughing. Whatever those fumes were, they were doing their job well. He couldn't breathe right, his mind felt so cloudy, he just wanted to sleep...
"Ah, ah, ah. No sleeping." Something hard connected with Bucky's gut, making him wheeze. "I need you awake for this." The clown turned him over onto his back, still grinning that awful grin.
"What're you...gonna do to me?" Bucky asked again. For the life of him, he just couldn't focus on the clown or the alley. Everything was spinning.
Red eyes seemed to glow brighter as Joker peered down at him.
"What am I gonna do to you?" Well," he said, standing and pulling something out of his straightjacket. "That depends on how much your mind can take."
Bucky blinked, trying to focus on him. How much his mind could take?
Joker moved around him to his other side, heading up towards his head. He hummed casually to himself, smirking, watching his old tormenter's face. The gas was doing its job nicely, another thing to experiment with once he was back on his home ground.
"You see, all kids love to pick on one another, some more than others. Those, my friend, are called bullies." Joker leaned into Bucky's field of vision, grinning widely. "Bullies come in all sorts of shapes and sizes."
"Am I looking at one now?" Bucky shot at him.
The clown frowned down at him, hands on his hips.
"Is that how your mother taught you to talk to people?" There was a hint of annoyance in the freak's words.
Bucky stared up at him, then slowly shook his head.
Fiddling with whatever was behind his back, Joker leaned back again and sighed. He glanced up at the sky, frowning, shaking his head to himself. People these days just never could learn to hold their tongues.
"As I was saying," Joker grumbled, giving him a steely look. "Bullies can be a marvelous thing to study. They pick out a weaker target, maybe because they too were once bullied by someone else. Or maybe their father was an abusive drunk who beat on their children, striking fear into their hearts and eventually making their children bullies as well."
"Just shut the hell up," Bucky moaned, closing his eyes. It hurt to look up at the sky with the spinning stars and walls.
Joker glared down at him, then chuckled deeply, another grin splitting his lips.
"Maybe this one time." He pulled out a flat circular disc, heading over to a dumpster and setting it on it. He pulled out the stand from behind the disc, propping it up, then waltzed back over to Bucky.
"What...what is that?" Bucky asked, staring at the disc.
Joker looked from the disc to him, grinning. He grabbed the man under the arms, hauling him to the other side of the alley and propped him up against the wall.
"This, my friend, is what is called an optical illusion." The harlequin marched back over to the disc, grabbed it, then gave it a whirl, sending waves of black and white round and round.
Bucky stared at the wheel, mesmerized by it, unable to look away. The closer he looked, the more it seemed he was falling into an endless tunnel, lines flashing past in head-pounding waves.
"A very fine line separates normality from insanity. You just need a push..." the clown whispered, looking at the disc.
Nodding numbly, Bucky felt sleepy, but he just couldn't close his eyes. Watching that design spin was so very hypnotic...
Joker grinned, watching as the man started to shake uncontrollably. He glanced at the wheel, then back at Bucky, watching closely. The man's fists were clenched tight at his sides, he was breathing quick and hard, and best of all, the wheel was doing its wonders: Bucky couldn't look away.
"Just keep staring into the pretty design, my friend," he whispered, pulling out a gas bomb. He hefted it in his hand a few times, watching the wheel, smirking. The hypnotic design didn't bother him the least; in fact, he really seemed to have a thing for swirly designs.
"Have fun in crazy land," he giggled, dropping the gas bomb. It broke on impact, a haze of green rising into the air around them.
Joker turned, heading through the gas and emerging out into the clear, walking to the end of the alley and picking up his hoodie. He slipped it on, not looking back as insane laughter drifted high, fixing the hood before heading back home.
I I I
Crazed laughter echoed through the warehouse, filling every nook and cranny. The sound rose from crazed giggles all the way up to hysterical shrieks.
Joker rolled around on the floor, holding his sides, going back into his hysterical fit. He'd been at it for a good ten minutes so far and he showed no signs of slowing down. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he laughed, his giggles rising in pitch again.
Eventually regaining what senses he had left, Joker started to slow down, sides heaving, breathing hard. He giggled madly, sitting up, wiping the tears away from his eyes, grinning once again.
"Is every person in this city really this stupid?" he giggled to himself.
He collected himself after a few moments, standing and brushing himself off, still breathing heavily. He marched over to his chair, flopping down and sighing, letting his heartbeat return to its normal rhythm
The teens, that idiot biker... Who else has yet to meet their fate?
One name jumped to mind, nearly knocking him senseless for a few seconds.
That jerk will get what's coming to him. Once he's out of Arkham, I'll be the first one he meets up with.
Feeling the night's adrenaline drain from his body, he slumped in his seat, feeling exhausted. He'd been on the move a lot recently and it was finally taking its toll on him.
If I'm going to be constantly on the move, my body's just gonna have to get used to it. I need to strike hard and fast, yet still make a quick getaway.
He stretched, sighing, getting comfy before rolling onto his side and curling up into a ball, closing his eyes.
I I I
He woke to the sound of tv static, a fuzz of black and white lighting up the room. Groaning in annoyance, he lifted his head, glaring at the tv. It hissed static back at him.
Fumbling around the side of the chair for the remote, he picked it up and clicked the channel button. Several flashed past as he rubbed at his eyes, slowly waking his mind up.
How long was I out for? It's still night...
Joker sighed, sitting up more in his chair, yawning, clicking the channel button again.
He flipped past a black background with a blue highlight at the bottom, then paused, turning the station back. He kept his hand on the button, ready to turn it, then glanced at the screen. Joker's hot, excited blood froze and turned to ice in the matter of seconds that he read the highlight at the bottom.
He cranked the volume up to full blast, grabbing the tv and nearly plastering his face to the screen as the cover story rambled on.
"Ben, I'm standing at the gates of Arkham Asylum, home to the criminally insane, with breaking news this night," a news reporter was saying, the man's tie whipping in the night wind, his words nearly cut off by the gust.. "Ex-Doctor Jonathan Crane was sent here six months ago on accounts of his horrific experiments on the inmates and other subjects. He used a specially made hallucinogen that he used in his toxins against his subjects, leaving them in deadly states of fear or madness."
Joker stared at the screen in disbelief, his red eyes wide, his whole body tensed up with the effort not to plaster his face to the screen and miss anything.
"Crane had been sentenced for life for his disturbing crimes, but late last night, a night guard discovered that Crane's cell had been empty. How he got out, officials are still trying to figure this mystery out."
The rest of the story faded out as Joker whirled, bounding back to his chair and flopping down. Thoughts swirled in his chaotic mind.
Jonny's out of Arkham... Those teens had been right... That asshole didn't help me the night of the accident. He snarled to himself, curling into a ball and holding his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Jonny let me fall... He told me he'd be there forever, that we'd be there for each other and he betrayed me! This whole city let me fall...
Out of the blue, a random thought popped into his mind and all other thoughts screeched to a grinding halt.
Batsy is supposed to protect people... To be there to save them from any danger... Why wasn't he there for ME?
He bolted out of his chair, deeply agitated, pacing back and forth frantically, shaking his head. No one cared about the clown that had fallen, no one cared how much pain he'd been in... And most of all, Jonathan Crane had betrayed his only friend and let him fall.
He's dead... The jerk is dead, he let me fall!! Joker's mind screamed as he paced.
He paused, glancing over his warehouse, looking at all the toys it contained. Rage clouded his mind as he moved towards a crate, opening it and staring at the specialized mallet within.
No... Where is the fun if I kill him where he is? It will be on MY turf, not his...
The clown closed the crate lid, eyes narrowing in thought.
If he'd been in Crane's place, he would go to his friend's house first. Maybe Joker could beat him to it, if he hadn't already been there. From there on, Joker couldn't place where he might go.
For all I know, he could hit the chemical plant again... He paused again, thinking it over. If the chemical plant is really where bird boy's getting his chemicals, maybe two can play this game...
He grinned at the thought. He knew the chemical plant better than Crane. That could work to his advantage.
Joker turned, heading back over to the tv to see if there was anything else he had to know. After a minute of useless talking from the reporter, he gave up and walked over to the desk.
Now... What to take?
He picked up one of his favored guns, looking it over before tucking it into his back pocket. Better safe than sorry... He wouldn't take the mallet, no. Too big to lug around when he didn't know where the jerk would be. Of course, he wouldn't go anywhere without his razor playing cards. They were already tucked safely away into his straightjacket.
Hm... If this is gonna be on my turf, it needs to be my rules. He doesn't know the Clown Prince of Crime, so I'll have the element of surprise.
The harlequin looked his weapons over, decided to play light, then turned, bolting out of his hideout and into the night.
I I I
Jonathan Crane hurried down the sidewalk, keeping his hat down low over his eyes. Frantic thoughts swept through his mind as he made his way down the street, making him cringe.
He'd never intended for anyone to catch wind of what he'd been doing. It'd been his own damn secret and someone had ratted him out. No matter... He'd taken care of the rat the night he got out of Arkham.
Jon paused at an alleyway, catching his breath, leaning against the wall. His eyes darted back and forth warily as he stood there, keeping an eye out for any police.
Screw the police, my biggest worry is that bat problem now...
He glanced down at himself, taking in his costume. A custom zipped jacket, ragged fingerless gloves that reached his wrists, a tattered shawl that reached below his shoulders, the torn hat, and his favorite piece of all, the mask that covered his face. Quite terrifying when mixed with the right fear components.
Taking a deep breath, Jon raced through the alley, turning and heading down the street, watching as his friend's house came into view. Thunder and lightning cracked above him as he paused at the stairs, staring up at the house. No lights were on and it looked as thought no one had bothered to sweep the porch in ages.
Oh, God, please no...
Jon leaped up the stairs, pounding on the door, his heart echoing the beat, worry flooding him.
"Jack! Jack, please!"
He pounded on the door for a full two minutes, heart racing.
Please, Jack, answer the damn door!
He stopped, panting, staring at the door for a full minute, waiting desperately. When no one bothered to answer the door, he took a quick glance around, backed up, then charged full speed at the door with his shoulder.
It crashed open, nearly falling off its hinges, knocking against the wall with a thud. Lightning flashed behind him, lighting up the room for a split second.
"Jack?" Jon took a wary step inside the doorway, glancing outside before shutting the door behind him. "Jacky?"
Slipping off his hat and mask, Jon moved farther into the room, looking around, eyes slowly widening. A fine layer of dust covered everything in the living room, a few magazines thrown at random around the floor.
Glass crunched underfoot as he walked over to the chair, keeping a sharp eye out. He stepped down on a picture frame, breaking the glass, then lifted his foot to see. He bent down, picking up a dusty picture out of the frame, trying to rub the grime off. When he'd cleared most of it away, he felt his heart jump into his throat.
Jack and Jon laughed together in the original picture, both in their teens, Midnight's panting face between them. Jon remembered the photo well. It had been the summer after school graduation, when the three had gone to the park to celebrate. But what hurt Jon most of all was...the picture had been torn in two. Only Jon's laughing face was left of the photo, the other half taken.
"Aw, Jacky..." Jon felt tears swim in his eyes, quickly brushing them away. He stood, tucking the torn photo into his pocket, looking around the room.
Now that his eyes had gotten used to the gloom, he could see that many small objects had disappeared from the cabinets. He remembered a photo album sitting by the tv, a picture of Midnight over on the stand...
Something shiny glinted over by the door as lightning flashed again, catching his attention. He turned, heading over, reaching down and picking up a set of keys.
That settled it. Jack had learned about what Jon had been doing and most likely fled his house in terror.
Jon felt his throat tighten in rage, fists clenching. He wasn't angry at his friend, not at all. He was, however, furious that the city had caught him and exposed his experiments and studies to his best friend. If he was lucky, he'd find Jack soon and explain.
I don't blame Jack at all... If I were him, I probably would've run too, if I'd found out what my best friend had been doing.
A soft noise caught his attention and he spun on the spot, ready to release his fear toxin on whoever dared sneak up on him. He paused when nothing jumped out at him from the shadows.
Well, what do you expect? It doesn't look like Jack's been here for months. This place has probably been falling apart ever since he left.
Casting a last wary look over his shoulder, Jon turned, dropping the keys into his pocket. He sighed, looking around the room once more, ready to head back outside.
A thought jumped into mind and he paused, glancing up the stairs. Would Jack have taken anything with him from up there? Only one way to find out.
Wary, he crept up the stairway, peeking into the hall for any intruders, then made his way to Jack's room. He pushed the door open, staring in disbelief.
There had been quite a fight in Jack's room, it seemed. The mirror on the dresser had been smashed to pieces, shards of glass laying here and there on the floor. Clothes lay scattered near the closet, rumpled and dusty. What really caught Jon's attention were the many scribbles on the far wall of Jack's bed.
He moved closer, looking around the room sadly, then stopped at the wall, studying the doodles. Many of them seemed very incoherent, random words and pictures scribbled onto the wall with what looked like marker. Others seemed to follow a small train of thought, the outlines of what looked like clothing and smiley faces.
"Jack, what happened here?" he murmured to himself.
Jon reached out a hand, fingertips brushing the marks on the wall, then drew back, staring at the wall, sighing.
Are you really gone, Jack? Or did something happen to you while I was away? This doesn't look like your work. The scattered clothing and missing items I can understand if you ran away, but these drawings? No, not you.
Shaking his head, he turned, heading back the hall and down the stairs, casting one more look around the house. Jack had abandoned it and left, leaving whatever he didn't want behind.
Jon stepped outside, locking the door and shutting it quietly behind him. He stood in the doorway as rain pattered down around him. Quiet, he remained under the shade of the doorway, slipping his mask and hat back on, watching the rain fall, feeling his heart sink.
Jack had been his only friend and now he was gone. He didn't know if he'd simply left or if something horrible had happened to him. Jon knew about the teen group that constantly plagued Jack to and from work. Maybe they had something to do with it.
Just as he was about to head out into the rain, he stopped, a thought occurring to him. It couldn't be the same group he'd hired under his alter ego...could it? If it was the same teen group that was picking on Jack, they'd have to be punished...severely.
If it's really them, then they're all going to die... I just need to stock up on chemicals first...
Jon tilted his hat, then moved off into the rain, heading down the street, towards the chemical plant.
I I I
Joker crept around the side of the house, eyes narrowed, a playful smirk stretched across his face. He watched the tall, skinny figure head off down the street, giggling to himself.
Jonny, Jonny, you're so naughty...
He'd watched Crane from the kitchen, where he'd snuck in through a cracked window. He'd almost been spotted, but super fast reflexes took him away from the doorway before Crane had even had a chance to realize someone had really been there.
He didn't mind the rain at all. In fact, it helped conceal his bright colors in the dark, dreary night. And what better way to sneak up on an old friend than to be hidden in darkness until the very last second? His eyes glittered at the thought as lightning flashed above his head.
Thirty minutes of scurrying through the city brought the harlequin to the building, the whole plant shut down for the night. If Joker was lucky, there'd be few guards in his way.
He scrambled over the chainlink fence, dropping to the grass in a crouch, listening to the night sounds. Croaking frogs, chirping insects and the occasional hoot of a night owl. Perfect.
Joker darted through the weeds, keeping low, peeping around the side of the building. A few parking lot lights lit up the area, the rest of the ground covered in a white mist from the rain. It swirled around the lights, creating shadows where there should be none, and illuminating another glint in the weeds across the parking lot. He dropped to his belly, watching through the weeds, eyes narrowing.
Crane emerged from the grass not a moment later, the light reflecting off the buckles of his jacket. He kept low to the foliage, approaching the doorway without sound.
Joker leaned his head out just a bit farther to see. A single guard stood in the entryway, heedless of the attack coming from behind him.
There was the sound of a can spraying and Joker saw a cloud of...something...around the guard before he fell to the ground, shaking madly. Crane's shadow swiftly disappeared into the darkness of the building and Joker was left to dart after him, glancing at the guard.
He paused, curiosity getting the better of him for the moment. The guard lay face down on the pavement, sobbing quietly, fists clenched. Joker blinked, staring down at the man, then glanced into the door of the plant. A large circle of glass had been cut out of the door, providing easy access to the lock, though the door now lay open.
Giving the guard one more glance, Joker crept into the building, keeping to the shadows as best as he could. He wanted the element of surprise to be in his favor, not Crane's.
The lights above him suddenly crackled to life, startling him, then went out a split second later, leaving him confused for a moment.
Smart boy! he mused, grinning to himself. Cut the power and no one's able to call for help...
Tiptoeing, he made his way down a few halls, the moonlight coming in through the windows giving him the extra boost his chemical-enhanced eyes needed. His surroundings seemed slightly brighter than what they really were, making him wonder just how much the chemicals had really changed him.
Night vision? No, not that extreme. But close.
He paused, hearing a soft clink behind him, immediately darting into the hall next to him. He leaped, grabbing hold of the pipework above, flattening himself to the ceiling, holding his breath.
A brown hat passed under him a minute later, the skinny figure heading down the hall towards the lounge room. Joker's eyes narrowed as he spied the aerosol can in Crane's hand.
So that's how he does it...
He watched as Crane entered the room, the door shutting behind him, then Joker dropped to the ground, splaying his legs and hands out. Only the rustle of his sleeves betrayed any noise and even that wasn't enough to catch Crane's attention.
No... Not Crane. At least, not anymore. Scarecrow.
Joker stood like that for a moment, listening for any sounds Crane might be making, ready to bolt into the shadows should the door open. He couldn't just barge in there, he might end up taking a blow himself instead of the other way around.
Nothing but silence, then the soft click of another door in the room.
The clown decided to take a risk, grinning to himself.
No risk, no fun.
He crept over to the door, carefully pushing it open, making sure to stay low. The door creaked open softly as he slipped inside, looking around. No one was in the room.
Joker stood there, eyes closed, smiling to himself as he listened to the silence. If Crane continued on the path he was going, his next stop would be the elevator.
There were two floors that held chemicals. The third held the green mess that Jack himself had fallen into. The fifth held a massive tank of clear chemicals, the name escaping Joker's mind.
He breezed through the second door, moving swiftly into the next hall, nearly sprinting. Crane didn't know he was here, he didn't need to be careful...much. He knew this building better than the jerkwad that had left him to rot in the tank.
Four flights of silent running on stairs brought the harlequin to the fifth floor. He pushed the door open, peeking around carefully. Glancing up at the walkway, his lips split into a massive grin.
Crane stood on a platform, calmly collecting his samples, a group of guards lying across the floor, moaning and sobbing quietly.
One push! Just one push and he's dead! Push him! PUSH HIM!! his mind screamed at him as he watched. All it'll take is one push and that asshole will be gone forever!!
But Joker couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet, at least. He needed answers. Answers to why his one and only friend had left him to rot in a tank, which he'd barely survived from, and to why he got shipped to Arkham.
His eyes narrowed as Crane turned, slipping the vials into a small bag at his side. The red eyes followed him as he marched off across the walkway, heading through the door that would lead him to the first floor.
PLAYTIME!! his mind shrieked. He heard voices take up the chant in his head and he grinned, spinning on his heel and charging down the stairs at breakneck speed. He'd cut Jonny off, then have some shadowplay fun with him.
It would take Crane a minute or two to reach the first floor, but that was all Joker needed. His mind whirled at top speed, forming a plan to lure the jerk back to the beginning of madness.
But wait... He deserves some small warning.
Where the hell did you come from??
I've been here, as you have.
Well, shut up. It's my time to play. You had your chance.
Throw something then! Let him know he's not alone!
...that's not a bad idea.
He ducked down behind a desk as a door on the far wall opened, a shadow looming out of the dark stairway. Even as insane as he was, Joker's eyes widened as he felt a deep feeling fill his heart, watching the Scarecrow emerge from the stairwell.
I'm not afraid, dammit! Stop your yapping and go back to your own corner!
But look at him! He's so intimidating!
Shut the hell up! That's why I'm in charge!
The deep feeling in him was squelched instantly. Joker eyed Crane curiously, taking in the whole outfit. A weird jacket, the hat, and the mask.
Hmph. I look better in threads any day.
Crane moved off towards the front door, shouldering the little bag, adjusting it.
It was now or grabbed an empty coffee mug off the desk, making sure Crane didn't see him. He bent down, watching Crane from under the desk, then chucked the mug at his legs as hard as he could.
There was a loud shattering of ceramic and a string of swearing. Joker shoved the back of his fist in his mouth, giggling madly.
"What the hell?" Crane snarled, rubbing his ankle, looking around. "Who the hell threw that?" He took a good look around the room, glancing at the desk, frowning. It was the only place nearby someone could've thrown that mug at such close range.
Joker watched him from under the desk, waiting for him to make his move. Once he was sure Crane had gotten a glimpse of him, he'd lead him on a merry chase back to his own turf where they wouldn't be bothered.
Steeling himself up, Crane pulled the aerosol can from his bag, glancing around to make sure him and the unseen attacker were alone. With no warning, he charged the desk, taking Joker by surprise. He was much quicker than what he expected.
The clown hurled himself away from the desk as Crane leaped over it, taking off down the hall, heading for the back exit. He could hear Crane right behind him, a sure sign he wasn't going to give up the chase so quickly.
Joker wasn't sure how much time he had to pull off his plan. He hadn't taken time to check a clock. All he knew was time was short; anyone could come into the chemical plant at any given moment, they'd call the police once they saw what was going on and he'd find himself in more trouble than he wanted before he was ready.
"Get back here, you freak!" Crane yelled from behind him.
The harlequin couldn't help himself. He started laughing. Laughing at Crane, the chase, the threat. Everything at the moment was funny.
He threw open the back door to the chemical plant, setting off the alarms inside, racing outside and charging off down the street. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he saw Crane was still behind him, sure he wouldn't give up the chase now that he knew he hadn't been alone in the building.
Joker bolted off down the street, hoping no one was watching the chase. His biggest fear was the Batman watching this whole thing take place and he'd be taken by surprise before he could have any fun with the city.
He slid around a corner, giggling wildly, bolting off down the street. A rattle of trash cans behind him told him Crane had not given up the chase.
"Why not turn and face your fears, you coward!"
The clown's grin grew wider. Jonny was telling him to face his fears.
What fears, Jonny boy? I have none, thanks to you! But then again...
Joker suddenly turned, meeting Crane head-on. He bounced into the air, kicking him hard in the chest.
Jon slammed down hard on his back, coughing, holding his chest. Damn, if this freak wasn't fast. He sat up, gasping for air, then blinked, staring at the clown in front of him.
"Twisted dreams, Jonny..." A glass ball shattered in front of Crane, spilling green gas into the air. It rose quickly, engulfing him in it.
The sky started to spin as Crane stumbled back, coughing, trying to see through the haze. His mind was starting to grow foggy, things were starting to spin out of control. He stumbled backwards out of the gas cloud, catching a glimpse of the freak before he collapsed on the pavement.
His vision spun as he lay on his back, breathing heavily, feeling a darkness in his mind. He could see and feel the raindrops hitting his face, running down and collecting below him. A pale-skinned face leaned into his field of vision, spinning, making his stomach churn. He could hear wild giggling as he shut his eyes, finally letting his mind surrender to the blackness.
I I I
Tick...tick...tick...
Jon slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light that stabbed at them. His eyes felt so heavy, his mind still feeling light as a feather.
A few drops of water hit his forehead, running down the side of his face.
"Jooooonnnyyy...." a voice came from a distance away from him.
He tried to raise his head, tried to see who was calling his name. His neck screamed in protest against the motion; must've been from when his head had been resting against his chest.
"Wake up, bird boy," the voice came again, somewhere off to his side.
A tingling pain in his wrists cleared his mind a little more, letting him know he could be in more danger than he originally thought. Blinking, he glanced down at himself.
He was sitting in a chair, his hands pulled tightly behind his back. His cans and chemical supply were sitting on a crate about twenty feet away, set out in open view. Regaining his senses, Jon realized his hat and mask had been taken. They were nowhere in sight.
"Ah, so the little raven has awaken." His hat suddenly bobbed into view in front of him, placed atop the head of the green-haired clown he'd chased earlier.
"What...who are you?" he asked, feeling a bit confused. "Where am I?"
Joker's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. He moved around Crane, heading over to a crate and hopping up on it, sitting down and dangling his legs off the side.
"Why, you're in my humble home. I admit, its tearing itself apart slowly, but for now it'll do," he giggled, looking around the warehouse fondly.
Crane stared at him, then looked around, taking in his surroundings more closely. Crates stacked up against the walls, what looked like a play-castle over in the corner, some playing cards lying on the floor.
"Okay...so why am I here?" he asked curiously, returning his gaze back to the clown.
The clown pulled his feet up to his chest, smiling to himself, flexing his toes. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, as though deep in thought.
Minutes crept by as the clown remained silent, Jon's patience wearing thin. He didn't have time for this. He needed to find out what happened to his friend while he was away!
He opened his mouth to demand and answer from the clown, but a white finger suddenly pressed up against his lips, the freak suddenly in front of him.
"You want to know why you're here?" the clown squealed.
A blank stare, then a nod.
"Why, Jonny, I'm surprised. You hurt me with your ignorance. But then again, you never were the caring, knowing type..." Joker stalked off to the crate with the supplies on it, looking them over. "You have such an interesting design in weapons. A fear toxin, huh?"
Crane stared at him blankly, not sure where this was going. What did this freak want with him? True, a lot of people might be after him, but he'd never even met this clown before.
"Yeah..." He watched the clown, carefully twisting his hands behind his back, trying to undo the knot that bound his hands together. The clown was darting around the crate, looking his supplies over eagerly.
Grinning, Joker picked up one of the aerosol cans, turning it to get a better look at it. He glanced at Crane's bag, curious, then returned his gaze to the can.
"So tell me, Jonny. How does one use this?"
"Why don't you find out, you freak?" Something heavy smashed into the side of Joker's head, knocking him to the floor.
Jon glared at him, twisting the metal bar in his hands, ready to strike again. While the harlequin had been busy looking at his weaponry, he'd managed to loosen the knot and grabbed the closest thing to him.
Joker blinked,wincing, holding the side of his head.
Okay, I admit it. Strike one goes to Jonny. But this is one fight he won't be walking away from...
He quickly got his feet under him, launching himself at Crane, tackling him and the bar, both of them rolling to the floor in a tangled heap. They both held onto the bar, eachtrying to wrestle it away from the other. Joker snarled, red eyes blazing, kicking him hard in the gut.
"I don't have time for this!" Crane shouted at him. He reached back, grabbing his can from the floor, then stuck it dead in Joker's face.
Joker barely had time to blink before the toxin hit him straight on. He yelped, rolling away from him, keeping his hands over his face.
Jon watched him, panting, then stood, turning away and heading over to the crate. He picked up his bag that had gotten knocked to the floor, then set the cans inside. Time to get out...He paused suddenly, staring at the far wall. There were no sounds of crying, screaming, or whimpering. In fact, all he could hear was silence and the raindrops that pattered down through a hole in the roof to the chair he had been sitting in. He whirledquickly, afraid the clown was sneaking up behind him. Nothing there now, save for the toxin cloud that was slowly dispersing in the air. Cautious now, Crane looked around himself, checking every shadow and crevice carefully.
A quiet giggling came fromright behind him and he spun, staring. The clown had been behind him the whole time.
"Nice try, Jonny boy,"Joker giggled, spreading his arms wide. "Your toxin doesn't work on me."
Crane blinked in utter confusion. His toxin had never let him down before, yet here the freak was still standing, still of apparent sound mind.
"How...it didn't work on you?" he managed to croak out.
The red eyes narrowed at him, becoming more dangerous as the clown's body posture became threatening. The shoulders hunched up, the head tilted to the side a little, the grin growing ever wider.
"No, it didn't, Jonny..." came the snarl. "Nothing hurts me anymore. Not since the day I fell."
Crane backed away, taking slow steps, not wanting to provoke the feral animal now in front of him. He wasn't sure what the clown was capable of and he didn't want to find out.
"You fell..." he whispered, watching Joker. The clown took a few more steps closer, closing the distance between them.
"Yes...all thanks to you, my old friend." Joker glared at him, barely keeping his anger back. Crane was so stupid, if he was so smart he should've figured it out how long ago.
Still backing away, Jon stared at him, then suddenly froze. Minus the long hair, flashy colors and the new skin tone...
"Oh, my God..." He felt his knees weaken, caught himself on one of the crates. "...Jack?"
"You betrayed me, Jonny... You and this whole damn city!" Joker threw his arms out wide, glaring around his warehouse, seeing the city outside. He turned his gaze back on his old friend. "You let me fall, you asshole!"
Still in shock, Crane narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.
"I didn't let you fall," he shot back. "I didn't even know you had. I was locked up at Arkham. I didn't know you were missing until I went to your house." Pausing, he stared at the clown in front of him. "...you were there too, weren't you? You were watching me."
Joker flicked a card into his hand, moving in, eyes narrowed. "You weren't there for your one friend in his biggest moment of need. Now there's no one around to help you."
It took Jon a long moment to realize his friend wasn't kidding around. He jumped back as the card sliced through the air, just barely missing him. He backed away, staring at Joker, his mind unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
"Wait, Jacky, please. What happened to you?"
"Stop calling me that!" Joker screamed, charging him.
Jon turned tail and ran, not sure where he was going. He was in unfamiliar territory, he wasn't sure what to do about his friend, but he sure as hell didn't want to hurt him without knowing what was going on. He raced around the side wall of the castle, pressing up tight against the stone.
"Jack, please, just tell me what happened. Maybe I can help you," he shouted around the corner.
"No one can help me now, Jonny... Or you," came the reply from above.
Joker dropped down in front of him, his face contorted in pure hatred. He held two razor sharp playing cards in each hand.
"Jack, please, I'm your friend," Jon pleaded, staring at the madman before him.
"I'm not your friend anymore," Joker hissed, bristling in fury. "Not since the day you let me fall. You abandoned your one and only friend for your fucking experiments!" He drew his arms up, driving the cards towards Crane's neck.
He ducked under them, rolling away before climbing to his feet, staring at Joker, his eyes wide.
"What?? Jack, I'd never do that to you!" He ducked under another swipe of the cards. "Just listen to me, please! If you have questions, I'll answer them."
The cards paused an inch from his throat, red eyes watching him carefully. "Then start talking." A large hand seized Crane by the throat, backing him up and throwing him hard into a plush chair.
Crane coughed, rubbing his throat as he watched the clown pace in front of him. He glanced over to the doors, then back at him. This is what his friend had become... Months of worrying and searching, only to find he'd become what his tormentors had once called him: a freak.
Joker massaged his temples, feeling a war go off in his head. True, it did feel like a part of his old self was there, but it was squished down permanently by all the hatred and cruel delight that had swam to the surface once he'd had that dunk in the chemical tank. The sadistic, fun loving part of him wanted nothing more to rip this traitor limb from limb and leave him for the crows to find and pick apart. But the timid, clear-thinking part of him needed to hear what he had to say before any judgement was taken on him.
"Why were you sent to Arkham, you jerk?" Joker snarled, turning to glare at him.
Jon shifted uncomfortably, as though he was hiding something. His eyes kept flicking from Joker to the doors and back.
"TALK!" the clown screamed at him, feeling his fury nearing its boiling point.
There was a long silence before Crane was able to look him in the eye.
"Jack, I...I did it for you."
Silence reigned as Joker felt his mind tearing itself apart. The voices in his head hushed immediately, the new world in his mind falling to pieces around him. He could feel all his personalities rise as one to wonder just how that was possible, the timid one in his mind going into a quiet shock.
"...what?"
Jon nodded his head, eyes watering. "Please, Jack, just listen to me. I was so tired of seeing people pick on you, torment you, pushing and shoving you around. I knew you couldn't face them by yourself, so I... I wanted to help. I took on my Scarecrow alter-ego because I could spread the fear they caused you."
Joker could only stare in numb shock as Crane went on, his mind unable to accept it.
"You were so afraid of the city and the people, I decided to get back at them for you. I made them feel the same fear you felt every day you walked out of the house," Crane said, watching him. "Someone ratted me out and I got caught. They put me in Arkham and I didn't know what happened to you."
Another long silence.
Chaps reigned in Joker's mind at the moment. Not the good chaos he was used to. This chaos was caused by what his old friend had just told him. Tears sprung to his eyes as he thought it over, his anger and hate leaving him momentarily.
Jonny did all this for me? He got himself thrown in Arkham just because he wanted to help me? He caused fear and death in the city just to help his only friend...
But...that article...
But he did it for us... He hurt people so they'd feel the same fear we felt every day... He really was being a friend. He didn't abandon us.
"Jack, please answer me," Crane's voice broke through the silence. Joker blinked, looking at him.
"So...all this, the disappearing acts, how busy you were, the murders... It was all for me?" Joker's voice squeaked, betraying how close to tears he was.
Crane nodded silently, watching him. "I never meant to hurt you or frighten you. You should know that, Jacky. We've been friends ever since we were seven."
Joker turned away from him, trying to sort out this new problem. He was stuck between worlds, unsure of what to do. Kill his best friend who'd only been trying to help... Or...
What if he's lying? He could just be saying this so you trust him again, then he'll turn and stab us in the back.
But what if he's telling the truth? We've been friends all these years, he wouldn't just suddenly start to hate me.
You're fooling yourself. You were ALWAYS a weakling. Listen to him. He said he did it because he hated to see how pathetic you were. He could resent you because you never stuck up for yourself. It took that damn fall into the tank to bring me fully into the world. I'm what finally made you strong.
Don't hurt him, please, I'm begging you. What if he really is telling the truth? If he is, then he did all this madness for US.
Shut up, you weakling. I'm in charge and I get to decide what we do from now on. Maybe he's telling the truth, maybe he's lying... It doesn't matter to me anymore.
Please, fuck, don't kill him!
Who said anything about killing?
Still feeling torn, Joker finally turned to face his friend. Jon stared back at him, quiet, his expression hard to read.
"Get the fuck out of my life, Jonny. I don't need you anymore."
Crane blinked at him in shock. "...what? Jack, I can't do that now that I know you're okay."
"Stop fucking calling me that!" Joker screamed. Jon winced, holding up his hands.
"Okay, okay. So...what should I call you now?" he asked timidly.
Joker glared, feeling his anger start to rise again. "Call me Joker. Now get the fuck out before I decide to throw you out for you."
"Ja...uh. Joker, please, just listen to me. I can help you."
Another flare of anger. "No one can help me, Jonny. Jacky died the moment he fell in that tank."
Jon stared at him blankly for a long moment. "You fell...in the chemical tank?" Joker's look told him all he needed to know. "Oh, God, I never meant for that to happen. If I'd known something like that would've happened, I'd never have referred you to that job."
The clown paused, a thought coming to him. "You didn't kill us, Jonny... You saved us."
Glancing up at the harlequin, Jon stood, brushing the tears away. "Just tell me one thing. Please, Joker. What happened to you when you fell?"
Joker's mouth split into a wide grin as he turned to look at him. "Why, Jonny, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out already. I lost my mind, Jonny boy. I was always screw-loose before that fall, but now..." He giggled wildly, spreading his hands out. "I truly am the Harlequin of Hate now."
Crane stared at him, feeling heartbroken. His friend had finally snapped. He was no longer the comedic, quiet boy he used to know. Now he was...this.
"Go on, Jonny," Joker whispered, watching him, giggling. "Get out before the rage comes back and we decide you're really lying."
Surprised by the sudden swing in attitude, Jon bit his lip. Jack really was dead in there...
"Just don't forget yourself, Jack... Don't let that monster control you." Jon turned, feeling his heart break as he grabbed his supplies and headed out of the warehouse, not looking back. He didn't want to take another look at what his old friend had become.
He closed the door on insane laughter that drifted out behind him, lodging itself forever in his mind.Once a few blocks away,he couldn't control it any longer. He raised his fists to the sky, screaming madly and ranting, furious at what Gotham City had done to his friend. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he succumbed to his own sort of special madness, storing it away in a special part of his mind.
"You're not alone, Jack... Not anymore. You might be gone while that monster takes over, but I know you're still there, deep down. Stay strong and don't let him get the best of you." He glared out into the city, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I thought I was done hurting people, once I found you, but now I really see just how badly this city deserves it."
Jon stood, collecting himself, then proudly strode off down the street, heading into the heart of the city, unknowing of the caped vigilante that followed closely behind, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
I I I
Joker lay curled up in his chair in a tight ball, eyes closed tightly. For once, he was in no mood for fun and games. At least, not at the moment. He'd decided he'd keep Jonny alive. His mind had decided he really was telling the truth, but he just didn't want to believe it.
Jonny really did care about me... But no matter, no time for him now. We have bigger plans in mind.
He opened his eyes, his gaze settling on the folds of a giant balloon resting inside the castle walls. As he stared at it, he glanced over at the gas storage tanks in the corner of the warehouse, a plan curling its way into his twisted mind.
This city will see I'm not just some pushover. They'll soon be dying of laughter...and I'll be there, in the middle of the chaos, the loudest Joker of all.
I I I
And so ends "Monster" after a struggling 9 months. I really tried to make this as heartfelt as I could, I just feel I'm not good with putting so much emotion into my stories. Anyway, please, anyone who has read this the whole way through, let me know what you thought of this story. I'd love to hear anything you have to say about this (but please, nothing too harsh).