CHAPTER XIII

Jim had returned to the room shortly following his statement, drinking a bottle of Miller Lite at a pace that seemed almost frantic. "What is it, friend?" the Joker said, "Aren't you happy to see me?" Jim stopped only to say, "I'd literally rather chug bleach than hear you speak." "Then what're you still doing here?" the Joker asked, "Grab the Clorox and start imbibing." Jim stared at the Joker. The Joker said, "Don't use the term 'literally' unless you're willing to commit." Jim rolled his eyes and began drinking again. "Hey, is it my fault I paid attention in English class?" the Joker said indignantly, "Oh, wait, I guess it is." He turned his attention to Jonathan continuing, "So, what do you want me here for?" He began whispering, "I certainly hope it's not a tea party. I'm horrendously underdressed." Jonathan answered, "Not to worry. What you're wearing isn't that big of a concern. And besides, if I were to host a tea party, do you really think I'd do it in a grime-hovel like…this?" The Joker looked around, nodding, "Fair point, fair point. But seriously folks…what do you want with little ol' me?" "It's not so much you as it is the information you are in possession of," Jonathan answered, "You see, it's my understanding…not to mention my boss's understanding…that you know a few things about our dark friend." "Ah, ah," the Joker corrected, "Frenemy. Make no mistake. It's a love-hate relationship. Though more with the hate, I'm rather sorry to admit." Jonathan smirked. The smirk became a full-blown grin, and then it all boiled over into a low, long chuckle. The Joker joined in. So did the others standing around, though more awkwardly, as they were only laughing in fear of Jonathan.

Jonathan sighed happily, saying, "You're a laugh. This being the case…I'm sincerely apologizing for your treatment." "Compared to Arkham, this has been a spa trip," the Joker offered, "There's no need to apologize." "Cute," Jonathan smiled again, "You thought I was referring to your extraction. Not quite, good sir. As it happens, I'm speaking about events to come." He went to another room, returning with a cart adorned with several syringes, small blades, and other handheld torture devices. "Frankly, I didn't take the time to memorize all the names of these chemicals," Jonathan said, "But boy, are they nasty. And when the pain they cause is paired with having your nails separated from your fingers, well…it's one big pitcher of sugar honey ice tea." He picked up a syringe, flicking the barrel. "Why not just use your fear gas on me?" the Joker asked, genuinely confused. "That'd reduce you to a blubbering mess," Jonathan answered, "And at that point I've just wasted time getting you here." "Great," the Joker nodded, "All right, fine. Let's get intimate." Jonathan said, "Agreed," and proceeded to jab the needle into the Joker's neck. "Give it a second," Jonathan whispered. The Joker suddenly tensed up, groaning in a restrained manner. He clenched his jaw and clamped his hands onto his thighs. A few seconds later, he relaxed just as suddenly, breathing heavily. "Wow," he said shakily, "You really ought to remember the names. This one's a knockout." "Right on target, I'm afraid," Jonathan said, "That was just a small dose. You'd pass out from the pain if I upped it enough." "I like it," the Joker grinned. "I'm glad," Jonathan replied.

The Joker abruptly asked, "So what got you into this? You know, the business of…villainy." "I've always had an affinity, really," Jonathan answered, "Never really had any consideration for the feelings of others, and frankly, I've never grown out of the hating girls stage." "Mommy issues," the Joker said, "I can see that. So, what else? You feel all warm under the bridge when you see someone hurt?" "No, I consider that a baser characteristic, typical of one below my caliber," Jonathan said with utter disdain while walking back towards the cart, "In fact, killing's a bore for me. I'd much rather deal with other humans…differently." "How so?" the Joker asked, intrigued. "Well…" Jonathan began, approaching the Joker with another syringe, "Hold on a second." He injected the chemical into the Joker's neck. Just before the effects took over, the Joker groaned, "No, you're good. I'm listening." "You ever read Shakespeare?" Jonathan asked. The Joker recovered a few seconds later, saying, "On most rainy days." "What about Othello?" Jonathan asked further, "It's my favorite." "A couple times," the Joker answered, "That movie, O, ruined it for me." "I feel the same way," Jonathan said. Jim rolled his eyes again. Jonathan continued, "But you know, the reason I really love Othello is because of Iago. Brilliant guy." "Can't argue with that," the Joker agreed. "Indeed," Jonathan said, enthused, "The way he tosses around his victims…oh, it's a work of art, I tell you." "You do remember that he gets tortured after the story ends, right?" the Joker said. "Yeah," Jonathan responded, "I never said he succeeded in the end. But…I'm different. I have more resources at my disposal, and no emotional attachments to boot. At least, not real ones." The Joker nodded approvingly.

Jim spoke up, "Hey, we all know you two want to get together and be happy, or whatever, but I hope you haven't forgotten that the clown's here for a reason. Torture him for important stuff, will you?" "I've just come to a conclusion about you, pale skinny man," the Joker said, "You are no fun whatsoever." "It's not my objective to be fun," Jim retorted, "And it's Jim." "The sad fact is that Jim's right," Jonathan sighed, "I'm going to have to really get down to business. But first…let's get in the mood." He began playing The Human Abstract's version of Moonlight Sonata. He approached the Joker, holding yet another needle and a pin. He injected the chemical into the Joker's neck, jabbing the pin underneath his fingernail at the same time. The Joker couldn't even yell in pain. Jonathan said, "Feels like you're helpless, right? So you might as well spill. It'll make it go quicker." After the Joker was finally able to relax, he said, "It's going to take more than that. I'm a tough egg to crack, I assure you." Jonathan pushed the pin in a little farther. The Joker seethed, "Don't you get it? As far as I'm concerned, this is just a feather tickling. There's too much at stake for me to squeal so soon." Jonathan sighed, "You know, I really didn't want to hear you say that. It means we'll have to go through some more…barbaric means." "I'm up for it," the Joker said firmly. Jonathan nodded, "I'm convinced." The two locked eyes, each knowing what was going to happen next.

A few minutes later, I was contacted by Jim Gordon. "Hey, Jim," I answered my phone. "Batman, you're not going to like this," Jim said. Once he told me, I hung up and hurried to Barbara and Dick. "Guys, suit up," I said quickly. I walked off without another word. Though they were confused, they followed as closely as they could, going to the Batcave with me. I was already getting in the Batmobile when they finished getting ready. As they got in, Barbara asked, "What's going on? Where are we going?" "Arkham," I answered grimly, "The Joker's been taken. Your dad's already there, Barbara. Figure out some way to change how you sound." "How about the way I look?" Barbara said, "If we swing by my house real quick, I think I have a solution." I complied with her request, letting her go through her bedroom window. She came out a few seconds later, with a blonde wig in hand. As she got back in the Batmobile, she was already putting it on. "What's that from?" I asked as we sped away. "A school play a few years back," Barbara answered, "Never got rid of it." "All right, make sure it looks convincing," Robin cautioned, "And try not to get nervous." Barbara nodded, finagling with the wig every so often. When we pulled up in front of the asylum, Jim was standing out front. He greeted me with a handshake, and then he noticed Barbara. "You look familiar," Jim observed, squinting. "What?" Barbara said awkwardly, "Nah, you've never met me. That's right, you don't know me. I'm Batgirl. I mean, see? I have blond hair." "What does that matter?" Jim said, furrowing his brow. "She's new," I interrupted, saving Barbara, "Just ignore her." Barbara smiled awkwardly. Robin patted her on the shoulder, nodding reassuringly.

Barbara still seemed to perplex Jim, but he sighed and let it go, turning and saying, "Follow me. There's someone you'll want to talk to." "So, what went down, Da…Commissioner?" Barbara asked somewhat nervously. I glared at her. She mouthed, "I'm curious, okay? I'm sorry." Jim answered, "The Joker was taken directly from his cell. We're unsure who did it, but a guard said they looked a little like the guys Bane worked with a while back." I sighed. I knew they were disciples. "Is Bane who I want to talk to?" I asked as we entered the asylum. "As much as it pains me, I'm afraid so," a voice said. I turned to look. Bane was standing between two guards, chained hand and foot. "Hey, Bane," I said, "How're the inmates treating you?" "With less respect than I deserve, thank you very much," Bane answered bitterly. "I'm glad," I said maliciously. "I see you're up on your feet," Bane said, "I'm surprised, I must admit." "I have good friends," I responded. Bane's eyes went towards Barbara. "Who's this?" he asked, "Another child in your little mission?" "I'm no child," Barbara said defensively. "Of course," a derisive Bane said. Barbara looked at the floor. Bane continued, "Yes, I'm the one you need to talk to." "You wouldn't talk to me at all unless it was something really important," I said. "You're ever so observant," Bane mocked, "Yes. It's of grave importance. As it stands, it would seem you are one of the few people I can trust with such information." "Let's go somewhere more comfortable, then," I said. "Agreed," Bane eyed the guards suspiciously.

Back in the apartment building, the Joker's nose was broken, his left eye was swollen shut, and blood had soaked into his clothes. "You know, it really is funny," he wheezed, "When I forget one pain, another pops right back up." "That's the nature of this sort of practice," Jonathan said, wiping the blood off his hands. His suit had also been stained. He continued, "You really are a tough egg to crack. I thought I'd be able to break through that happy little barrier of yours. Turns out I was wrong. I think I'll take a respite." He walked off, finishing, "Jim, stay with him, would you? And don't kill him." Jim was about to protest, but the Joker blindsided him by saying suddenly, "Spectre." "Hey, man, I don't like being called that," Jim said, clenching his jaw. "I'm aware," the Joker said, "But still…it's interesting." Becoming agitated, Jim growled, "I could use these tools, you know. Scarecrow never said anything about hurting you." "I think it'd be kind of redundant at this point, you know?" the Joker said, "What's the point? I'll just keep yammering. It is my natural state of being, after all." Jim knew he was right, sighing and leaning back against the far wall. "I know guys like 'Scarecrow', as you so lovingly address him," the Joker said, "They don't care. Certainly not about you." "Best opportunity I have right now," Jim shot back. The Joker mused, "You know, Spectre would be a good superhero name." Jim made eye contact with the Joker. They stayed silent.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: TURNS OUT I CANPOST ANOTHER ONE BEFORE LEAVING.