Ok, I had major fun writing this. I really hope this comes across. One of my reviewers mentioned that they would like to see a Joker chapter from his POV so here it is. It's all starting to come together. I really hope you all like this. Let me know what you think.

xxx

That Old Gang of Mine

He hadn't planned on escaping that day. Things just happened when he was around. No plan required. He however was a great believer in seizing the moment. At recognising the right opportunity when it presented itself.

He had been in Arkham for six weeks, two days and thirteen hours. He counted down the hours. He counted down the minutes. There was nothing left for him to do. He lay on his back mostly, because it was comfortable. He stared up at the cracked, peeling paint work above his head.

Dry lips. He hated the feeling of his dry cracked lips as they brushed together. His mouth was dirty. It was always dirty but now it was almost unbearable. His teeth felt caked and fuzzy. He was beginning to smell himself and even he knew that wasn't good. He used his tongue to wet his parched lips. His tongue that worked its way around his mouth, probing the jagged flesh that lay within.

No one had touched him in all that time. The day of the trial he had been stuffed back inside the van, bound to the seat as it bumped and bounced its way through the streets, back towards home. This place was his home now.

The strait jacket that bound him was musty and yellowed. He remembered it was white once, but he supposed that was what sweat did. It was disgusting. He supposed he was disgusting. And he thought he would stay that way, until someone drummed up the balls to wash him.

He thought that, smiling to himself as the door to his cell groaned on its hinges. He lifted his dead, lifeless eyes to the gentleman standing in the doorway. The man was tall but stocky, his arms clutching a clipboard to his chest. He was wearing a long, white coat and a name badge. The man in the strait jacket narrowed his eyes. He had pretty good vision.

Doctor Weaving, it read.

"Hey Doc," he said, the hoarseness of his own voice surprising even him. He supposed it was lack of use.

The man stepped into the room, his broad face wrinkling in disgust. The doctor's eyes immediately set upon the slop bucket in the corner. It was quite full. Sometimes he made it, sometimes he didn't.

"That is vile," the doctor stepped back, clearly appalled. "You can't keep a man locked up like this."

There was a short, rotund female guard standing directly behind him. She turned up her nose, carefully avoiding the Joker's dead eyes. She always did that, he noticed. He nicknamed her Flo as he didn't know her real name. Since he'd been here, she seemed to always be on duty. She was his guard and he wondered what it was about her that made her so qualified to do the job.

"And what is that?" the doctor pointed open mouthed to a food bowl in the corner. "Is that how you feed him? Like an animal?"

Flo narrowed her small blue eyes at the doctor as though he were an intruder. She didn't like being told how to treat her inmates.

"Clearly you don't know much about patient J," she began. Without waiting she pushed past him, knocking him slightly. She retrieved the dog bowl from the corner of the cell and kicked it in front of the patient, who stared down at it bemused. It made a clanging noise that sounded deafeningly around the small cell. Flo marched towards the patient and seized up a fistful of his greasy, faded green hair.

The patient made a wincing noise as with a grunt she forced his face downward. She hovered him above the bowl for a moment before roughly letting go. The patient looked up and the doctor saw that his eyes were watering.

"You cannot treat him like this," the doctor repeated and Flo snorted.

"Would you like to read the daily reports my predecessor wrote before he," she still managed to shoot him the deathly glare without looking in his eyes, "decided to bite off his ear? Forbes was a good guy....he let his guard down at the wrong moment. He trusted this....monster and paid for it! We treat him like an animal...because he is one!"

Flo, arms folded tightly across her ample chest marched out of the cell. The doctor stared down at his newest challenge, with great anxiety in his expression.

"This ends now. I want Patient J up, scrubbed clean and in new overalls in one hour. Then I want him back in that jacket and in my office. I need to be begin the treatment."

"Wha'dya have planned for me doc?" the Joker stared up at him, slightly squinting through his watery eyes. "Some drugs...a little shock therapy perhaps...that would be interesting..."

The doctor sighed heavily. "Whatever is required. I believe we can reform you. I believe you can lead a normal existence."

The man on the floor made a motion as though he was shrugging his shoulders.

"Bold statement doc," he mused, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "But what's normal for you may be insane to a guy like me. I won't however turn down a good shower. I think I've out disgusted even myself....and that takes some doing!"

The doctor shook his head in dismay. "Fine," he threw his glance back at the female guard. "I want him in an hour. And get someone to disinfect this cell."

The doctor's white form disappeared through the cell door and through his watery gaze he saw another two guards appear. He snuffled back laughter as they hauled him to his bare feet. It had been a while since he'd stood and his legs felt weak and full of jelly. He tripped and stumbled down the dim, stone corridor, half supported, half dragged by the burly men at his sides.

He watched Flo's wide rear disappear into a room, which she had had to produce a key to unlock first. After moments she appeared with a bundle of towels, a clean toothbrush and a white cardboard box with a plastic lid.

"This way," she nodded to the guards and they heaved his lanky form down a set of stairs. His legs, numb, folded underneath him weakly and one of the men barked angrily at him.

"Walk dam it! What the hell is the matter with him?"

Flo looked across her broad shoulder. They were in a shower room that on first glance appeared to be more like a massive cage.

"He hasn't eaten for three days," she explained, her voice showing no ounce of concern. Why should she feel for him? He wasn't even passable as a human being. "He's probably weak."

"It's like carrying a dead weight!" the other guard huffed, dragging him across the floor of the shower room. There were eight shower heads lined up in a row, the room purposely built for communal use. They began to wrestle him out of his strait jacket, but like the pain he was he didn't make it an easy task. Eventually he liked the feeling of his arms being free. He lay on his back, stretching them above his head, wiggling his fingers in the air. Then he started to giggle.

"Oh don't start that! Come on clown. Strip!" Flo ordered, folding her arms behind her back. The deranged man rolled around on the tiled floor, loving the feeling of sudden freedom.

"I said take your clothes off!" she yelled and that seemed to get his attention. He lifted his neck off the floor, blinking up at her, his crooked mouth curved into a lewd grin.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours Flo?" he laughed wiggling his eyebrows, nervous and excited at the same time. He winked suggestively and Flo threw the two male guards an exasperated stare.

"Just take care of it, will you?" she told them, turning her back and walking towards the white cardboard box that she had placed on the ground when they had come in. There was a lot of grunting and shuffling, but eventually the Joker's wiry, naked form was exposed. He sat in the corner, miserably, his knees pulled up to his chest.

Flo turned back, taking the box and prising the top off. "On your feet, clown!" she ordered.

She had temporarily forgotten her vow of never looking him fully in the eyes. Without breaking her stare, he rose to his feet, all six foot of him. Though skinny, his shoulders were broad, his pale skin stretched over long bones. She noticed he was relatively unmarked, apart from the scars of various lacerations that ran like a map over his stomach and lower back. Someone once upon a time had beaten the hell out of him.

Flo threw the contents of the box in his direction. He screwed up his face as the powered soap stung his skin. She didn't stop until he was coated; like a swizzle stick that you put in hot chocolate.

"Alright, turn them on!" she called. There was an almighty groan and like a breaking dam, jets of water crashed out of the eight faucets. He broke the stream of the gushing torrent with his arms, but there was no way he was staying dry for long. Within seconds he was coughing and spluttering like a kid who hated having his hair washed at bath time. The water mixed with the powdered soap and it bubbled up at his grimy feet. Sweat, grease and dirt ran off him in cascades, taking with it any last scraps of green that clung in his hair.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he appeared to be enjoying it. Flo sighed and tossed him the toothbrush and some paste. She rolled a bottle of shampoo across the tiles towards him.

"Knock yourself out," she muttered turning to Damon, the larger of the two guards. He was watching the whole scene with a mild, morbid interest. His colleague Jeffries had taken the opportunity to leave for a cigarette break.

"Can you imagine anyone curing him?" Damon mused, his arms folded tightly as the Joker began what could only be described as frolicking under the water. He was busy soaping up his long legs and running the shampoo through his green hair.

"Why would anyone want to cure him?" Flo muttered, through gritted teeth. "He should have been sent to black gate if you ask me."

Damon raised his eyebrows. "He would have been dead in a week."

Flo smiled through uneven, small teeth. "My thoughts exactly. Hey...you seen a clean jumpsuit around here?"

Damon groaned. "I'll have to go to the boiler room. You think you'll be alright for a moment?"

Flo pulled a face and tapped the gun on her belt. "My name isn't Forbes. I'm not an idiot."

"Ok. Jeffries should be back any moment."

She gave the clown a few more minutes while Damon had gone. The Joker's head was back, his face being pummelled by the fierce jets of water. His hair was slick to his scalp and he had his mouth open, drinking the water like a dog. He glanced at her sideways and she looked away hurriedly. Her face slightly pink, she turned in the opposite direction. She was hoping that he hadn't caught her openly admiring his form. She had been looking at the muscles in his upper legs, admiring how sculpted they were. The same strength appeared to be there in his upper arms, despite the fact that when clothed, he appeared quite emancipated.

"See something you like, huh Flo?" he laughed, letting the water drip down and over his head, rinsing him clear of any suds. Straightening herself Flo went to the taps, groaning as she pulled the lever towards her. The faucets shut off, leaving the air misty with steam. She threw some clean, dry towels and they landed at his feet.

"Care to do the honours?" he teased, wrapping the towel around his torso. She ignored the heat under her collar. Why had she been so stupid?

"Just get yourself dry," she snapped, fiercer than she needed to be. She didn't hear the sound of his feet moving through water until it was too late. She cried out as her face was encased in the damp towel. The smell of starch and bleach overwhelmed her, but the pain in her head overwhelmed her more. Gasping and choking, a pair of hands around her throat cut off her air supply, forcing her to the ground. Yelping in agony, he kicked her viciously in the stomach and she rolled, unable to breathe. Cold soapy water sunk through her uniform. White hot pain filled her skull as he hit her again.

Her arms flew out and she scratched at his naked skin with her short nails. Eventually when it felt like she would never breathe again, he snatched the towel away. Red faced and spluttering she stared up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"No!" she gasped. "Don't do this!"

He leered closer to her and instinctively she leaned away and despite the water soaking into her shoes, through her shirt, she was sweating.

He grabbed a fistful of her own black hair and forced her face into a puddle of water. She kicked, coughed and moaned until finally he let up, heaving her back into a sitting position against the wall.

Blinking and still very naked, he skidded closer to her. She flinched when she saw that he had taken the gun from her belt.

"What's the matter Flo?" he smiled crookedly, tapping the hilt of the gun against his knee cap. "I thought you liked me. I thought that after the way you were staring at me...you kind of liked what you saw?"

Fiercely she shook her head, a streak of red blanching her cheeks. He grinned into her face, pinching her round cheeks playfully with his fingers.

"Now now....don't be shy!" he laughed. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman like you in a place like this....no wonder I look good to you...."

"I wasn't looking at you....you can't do this!" she hissed through her teeth. "I can't be the one to let you escape!"

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Ahh. That's nice of you Flo. To know that you'll miss me when I'm gone."

Panic exploded in her eyes. "Why'd you keep calling me Flo? My name is Laureen!"

The Joker let his tongue trail slowly over his bottom lip, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He silently mouthed her name, over and over, as though he liked the way it tasted on his tongue.

Laureen, Laureen, Laureen.

"Please," she begged. "This can't happen to me. It can't be me that lets you escape. I don't want it to be me who gets the blame for this!"

Childishly, he patted her fleshy cheeks. "Shush now," his mouth pulled back into a grin. "Don't you worry yourself about that. Just tell them...that I shot you in the head."

It was the expression in her eyes at that moment that he knew he had missed. It was for that reason alone that he did what he did. What he saw in her eyes was more than fear, it was more than desperation. It was disappointment. Almost like a silent question, is that all there is? Is this how I end up?

Laureen knew at that moment she was going to die. The sound of the shotgun echoed around the shower block. It was at that moment that Damon rounded the corner and came upon the naked man staring down at the dead woman, whose blood was curdling with water across the tiled floor.

The Joker lifted his eyes and his gun, emptying another two bullets into the young, dumbfounded guard. The young man slumped to the floor with a thud and the Joker clicked his teeth.

This was why he hated guns. It was too quick. It was over so fast. Knowing that time was severely of the essence, he manhandled Damon out of his damp uniform. He didn't particularly enjoy handling his bloated, pale flesh.

He quickly grappled himself into the uniform, wrinkling his own nose at the strong aftershave scent still clinging to Damon's uniform. The Joker wondered who Damon had been trying to impress. He giggled to himself, thinking that it might be Flo. The thought of the two of them together made him want to gag.

He passed a thin, dirty mirror on his way out of the shower room, admiring at the way the uniform hung on him. It was a little loose, but he'd get out of the building. The shoes were far too tight. Damon had small feet for a guy. He straightened his tie and pushed the name badge back into place.

Confidently with his chin lifted, he strolled through the dingy, dirty corridors of Arkham. It seemed that nobody stopped him, even though he passed three other guards and two doctors. He realised that the turnover of guards must be high in places like this, especially when you had deranged patients biting off their ears or any other extremities they could get a hold of.

Chuckling, he reached a door that had the words 'Rec Room' in bold print on the wood. Turning the handle, he found the room to be deserted. There was a fridge in the corner. His stomach growling, he made a dash for it, seeing various homemade lunches stashed inside. One had a big white sticker on the container which read 'Morellis-dont touch!'

The Joker shrugged and thought how rude it was of Morrelli not to share. What kind of a work place was this? He dug into the Tupperware container and found a corned beef sandwich. Shovelling it greedily, he surveyed the room. It was lined with lockers. Placing the sandwich down for a moment, he forced open a locker, half smiling as he came upon a huge woollen coat. He felt in the pockets after slipping on the coat and pulled out a set of keys. To his amazement, he stared down at the key ring and saw that it had a name tag. It also read 'Morelli'.

"Well how kind of you Morelli," the man laughed to himself. "I'll have to return the favour."

The Joker, hunched over in the massive coat made to leave the Rec room when he saw the newspaper on the table in the middle of the room. He narrowed his eye at the bold headline.

Mysterious 'Cat Woman' hits Mob Bank

Ripping the page out of the paper, he shoved it in his pocket. Cat women and men dressed as Bats. What was happening in his town? They needed a guy like him to provide some welcome sanity. He jumped suddenly as if on cue an alarm went off above his head. He narrowed his eyes at the little whirling red light above him and realised that someone had probably come across Flo by now. Turning up his collar he raced through the dimly lit corridor. He saw a young, dark haired nurse racing down towards him. She met his eyes, hers full of terror and confusion, clearly not used to this happening.

"Where do I go?" she grabbed his sleeve as he passed. Groaning inwardly, he turned back and met her frightened gaze. "It's my first day and I don't know where to go!"

He shrugged nonchantly. "Well...I guess down there?" he looked past her, panic rising slightly as more guards appeared in the corridor carrying weapons.

The young woman looked at him pleadingly. "Does this always happen? God, I knew I should have accepted the job at Gotham General!"

The Joker stared down at her pretty, freckly pale face. He pinched her nose playfully and she cocked an eyebrow up at him in surprise.

"Gotham General wouldn't have paid as well, trust me!" he grinned, revealing his even, yellowed teeth. It took only seconds for recognition to kick in. And those seconds were all he needed to wrap his arm around the girl's throat. She let out a yelp, alerting the other guards that had been filing in the opposite direction.

"Now why did you have to do that sweetie pie?" the Joker hissed in her ear. "Now I'm going to have to use you as a hostage!"

"Joker!" one of the guards was aiming a shot gun in his direction. "Let her go and drop your weapon!"

He pulled her roughly backwards and she staggered back with him. She wrestled his arm around her throat but his grip only increased.

"Let us leave...or you'll have a very pretty dead nurse on tomorrow's front page," he turned his face down to look at the struggling woman in his grip. "What's your name cutie?"

"Amy," she choked back, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The Joker sniggered, throwing his gaze back upwards towards the vast amount of guards that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Come on boys," he winked. "Its Amy's first day and she doesn't want to get in trouble. Let us go quietly. I promise not to kill her!"

"Please!" Amy was calling to the guards. "Just let us go!"

She was trembling in his grip, the feeling giving him a major rush of empowerment. "Good girl," he whispered into her dark hair and she shuddered.

The guards reluctantly lowered their weapons and the Joker dragged Amy backwards, her white sneakers squeaking across the floor in protest. In moments, they were out in the fresh air in what looked like a giant parking lot. It was late evening and the air was fresh with recent rain.

"Hey...you know a guy named Morelli?" he hissed at her and she shook her head.

"It's my first day!" she yelled. Sighing, the Joker took out the set of keys in his pocket and pressed the button, holding it in the air. As luck would have it, a grey sedan's lights flicked on as he did so.

"Jack pot!" he grinned, letting a little bubble of laughter escape his lips. Amy struggled as he wrestled her into the passenger's side.

"Cant you let me go?" she cried as he revved the car into action. Growling, he leaned across her roughly and grabbed her seat belt. She leaned away instinctively as he clicked her belt into place, giving it a tug for good measure.

"You want to get us a ticket?" he shot at her and laughed when she pulled a face at him. The car roared as he raced it out of the parking lot. He was giggling maniacally as he tore through the barrier, ignoring the stunned expression of the guard there. He sped through the alley ways until he reached the second bridge, a huge metal structure that had been built in the sixties to link Gotham's old town to its upmarket, lavish and minimalist designs of the new town. The bridge crossed the east river, a slick oily expanse of water that stretched from Gotham to the ocean.

Amy screamed as he drove the car dangerously close to the barrier. Other cars screeched and honked their horns. The sedan dodged the oncoming traffic, missing other speeding cars by mere fractions. Amy, terrified and white closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.

She scrambled away furiously as the Joker leaned across her, his face too near to hers as he threw open her passenger door. It hit the barrier and with electric sparks flying in the air and a horrible crunching noise, it was torn loose. The Joker's hand travelled across the girl's lap to where the belt was fastened securely into place.

The girl's eyes widened in terror, knowing full well what he planned to do. Her own hands reached for his, trying desperately to wrestle them away. For a brief moment it seemed to work. He couldn't keep hold of the car and fight her off at the same time. Then it was all over. Their eyes locked briefly.

"It was a pleasure Amy," he smiled crookedly. He pressed down hard to release the belt and at once it whipped freely past her face. Giving her a wink, he shoved her hard and fast, her eyes wild and frightened as she tumbled free of the car. The speed they were travelling carried her loose and her body hit the barrier with such a dull thud that even he winced on her behalf.

As his car sped away into the night, the nurse fell through the night sky and into the dark water below. Her body hit the water with such a slap that it nearly rendered her unconscious. And for a while she was content that way. She appeared to be floating down stream, her body lost to her senses.

Then someone was standing above her. She felt mild pain as she was being dragged onto the river bank. She felt the dirt ground sliding beneath her and then saw another face.

Amy was fairly sure it was a woman, dressed in a black suit.

"Are you alright?" the woman cried. "Talk to me!"

Amy's body had endured massive internal injuries when she had hit that barrier with such horrendous force. The young woman stared up at the sky, her eyes unseeing.

"The Joker," was all she said. Blood pooled at the side of her mouth, gurgling up like a stream before she died in the woman's arms.

Selina rested the body of the nurse back on the bank of the river. Sweating and now soaking wet, she ripped off her mask.

The Joker had escaped again. Selina threw her mask down into the mud and sat crossed legged next to the dead girl. She couldn't be here when the cops arrived. Flashing lights whirling over the bridge told her that wouldn't be too long.

"Dam it," she hissed through her teeth, careful not to forget the mask that had protected her identity for the last couple of weeks. She stood and headed up the river bank, her boots filled with dirty river water. A cop car was making its way down the dirt track to the river's edge, its siren filling the sky.

Selina turned and ran into the night, as if she had never been there at all. She really wished that she hadn't.

////

The Joker felt very little as he drove the car into a quiet, unused area of the Gotham narrows. He knew this area well. He'd grown up here. He didn't think about the young woman he'd killed as he parked the car between two large cargo crates. The ocean was nearby. He pushed the seat back, relaxing and arching his torso. He briefly remembered her frightened dark eyes and he smiled. Sometimes people just got in the way. He hadn't intended to kill her. What should he have done? Parked the car and given her a pat on the head before sending her off back to the cops?

Shrugging he peeled the piece of newspaper out of his coat pocket and read it eagerly. So this Cat character was hitting the Mob banks of Gotham, hitting them where it really stung. He almost smiled. She sounded like someone he could work with. But for now he needed people he could work with. He needed to do some fast recruitment.

He leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Gee but I'd give the world to see....that old gang of mine..." he sang softly through his teeth, whistling out the remainder of the old tune. God only knew where he'd even heard that one. Before drifting off into a peaceful sleep, he thought of the blonde woman in the courtroom. He thought of what a fine looking woman she'd grown into and how he would look forward to seeing her again. He had thought of nothing but her and the Bat for six whole weeks.

"...that old gang of mine..." he sang, shifting restlessly, in his hunched position.

The Joker hoped that wouldn't be too much longer. He wasn't a patient man.