Welcome Back to the Asylum

Ch. 23

Lowest Point

Joker flipped through the newspaper. There had been an increase in drug trafficking these days and it seems as though there were less articles based on individual crime lords. He threw down the paper, annoyed. "Not a single villain left from the old days...just me. Ha! I knew they were all fucking lame asses!" He stomped on the paper and kicked it aside. "Well then, maybe I should go back out into the world and reestablish myself as the King of Crime!" However, he knew if he did that, he wouldn't be able to stay put in his house and the feds may try to freeze all of his assets. He grumbled about being trapped in a new kind of cage and not having the freedom to commit crimes like he used to. He cared more about keeping his money than actually having fun like he did over fifty years ago. What was wrong with him?

Bored out of his mind, Joker flipped on his television and found there to be much more interesting news. "Oh...how welcoming!" he chimed in as the news was currently focusing on a large crime scene. Yellow tape surrounded an old apartment complex and people were scattered all over, peering at the cops while they worked. The newscaster said there were lots of fingerprints and tons of evidence for the cops to go off of.

Joker grinned. "Wow. Somebody out there's having a good time." But at the same time, he was a little annoyed that someone else was having a bit of fun and he wasn't. It appeared as though his good name was rubbed out and being replaced by petty criminals. He continued to watch.

Reports are in that the killer's fingerprints do not match any current inmates or registered offenders in the country.

"Hm, an upstart?" Joker questioned. As the camera panned across the outside of the apartment complex, Joker saw what looked like red paint streaking down the side of the building. If he didn't know any better, he say it was blood...and spelled out to form the words...

Ha Ha Ha Ha!

His frown turned into a scowl. Someone was ripping his act and it pissed him off to no end! But who was doing it? Only one person knew Joker inside out and who's life was going into a downward spiral...his son. Did Gabriel finally snap after all these years and losing everything in his life?

During a major panic attack, Ryder fell to the floor, heaving and gasping for breath. He'd dropped the gun onto the linoleum in the bathroom and nearly vomited up his breakfast. He'd just killed...again. Well, the first was technically an accident. This time it was a lot of people. The police were looking for him and who knows how long it would take them to figure him out? Because he'd never been arrested or had a juvenile record, it would take them longer. Still, his adrenaline was pumping and he sucked in rapid breaths. The anxiety was overwhelming. He reached for the sink and pulled himself up slowly until he was face-to-face with his reflection. He hated what he saw...just some dumb common murderer who fucked up his life at an early age. That was the last thing he wanted to be. His thoughts drifted to his family and he frowned.

"Fuck em' all!" he growled and shoved his fist through the mirror. He hated that he looked just like Gabriel and that clown bastard he calls grandfather. He wanted to gouge out his own eyes so he didn't have to see their semblance. They had the same jawline, the same forehead, hair, chin, nose, what the hell! Ryder picked up a piece of the glass and began dragging the shard over his arm, letting the blood flow freely. He growled and decided there was nothing he could do about his physical appearance. Then his thoughts moved into a different direction...if he couldn't change his looks to get away from his heritage, maybe he should embrace them.

Ryder smiled...

Perhaps he could somehow "outdo" his old man and his dick-head grandfather? Ryder dropped the shard of glass and chuckled lightly. What better way to insult his grandfather than by out-performing him in all aspects? "Heh heh heh..."

He made his way through the old apartment and passed right by his growing warlock plants. They didn't matter anymore. He planned to go to the local library and do a little bit of research before he began planning.

Three hours passed.

Ryder had managed to clean up and burn his old clothes before replacing them with other leftover garments in the apartment. Then he joyfully destroyed all of the plants and anything that could possibly lead the police onto his trail. After getting rid of the evidence, he left the apartment for the last time and headed downtown towards the library, not bothering to call for a cab. He decided it was best to hide in plain sight and walked along the bustling streets.

The Cobb County Public Library was large and a good place for him to use a computer without a hassle. The other people went about their business and the librarians were busy with their work, so he was able to access a computer by himself in the back. He sat down and began researching the legendary villains until he pulled up information on his grandfather. There were lots of websites dedicated to the crime clown, but his popularity waned considerably in the last decade. The people alive during Joker's greatest schemes were mostly dead and so the information was really limited now. There was a lot of old periodicals and footage, which he watched intently and then smirked with every one of the clown's actions.

"So old fashioned," Ryder commented and he skipped the current video for a biography and history of the clown. There was something that caught his eye; how the Joker came to be what he was. Curious, Ryder popped open the article and read it carefully.

It was too ridiculous, but Ryder believed every word of it.

The chemical factory in Gotham he'd just read about had shut down a while ago and since its closing due to hazards and health problems to employees, the product was moved to Florida in a secure facility for further development. It chemical compounds were changed. Ryder growled and searched the internet for more information. He found the location of the new factory and it wasn't very far from the Naval base on the coastline. Very smart of the government.

He had to think it over, which didn't take long. He had a family history of crime and burglary. It ran in his blood and perhaps now was the time to put those skills into use.

Ryder left the library with only a pocketful of cash and few granola bars. He walked a few blocks until he set his sights on an SUV and decided to steal it. The drive to Florida would be a couple of hours, but he had enough cash to get by until he reached his goal. He busted out a back window of the vehicle and squeezed through to the front. He'd never hot-wired a car before, but trial and error was the way to go!

The car's engine came to life after ten minutes of trying over and over. "Ha ha! Finally! Ryder, you got it!" he chanted as he stomped on the gas pedal and the car flew down the street. He proudly thanked the owner of the car for leaving him with a full tank of gas as headed for the highway. It would likely take him two days to get down if he stayed within the speed limit, which he planned to. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over and delayed. He might as well enjoy the trip.

Gabe rolled over onto his side. He'd walked so many miles and finally collapsed out of exhaustion, still clutching a bottle in his hand and the photo album and business card in the other. His eyes stung from the swelling due to his beating and the amount of sobbing he'd done. Nothing prevented him from thinking about his misfortune and the loved ones he lost.

He flipped onto his back and let the empty bottle roll away. The sky was so cloudy today and the rain came sprinkling down. It was at the point where Gabe just wanted to close his eyes and never wake up. The fingers clasping the album loosened and the book nearly fell from his grasp.

As his thoughts drifted in this drunken stupor, Gabe found himself in a familiar setting...

Willow was gently humming as she scooped up the remaining cookie from the sheet and placed it into the snowman cookie jar on the counter. She then quickly washed all of the pans and utensils before stuffing them into the drying rack.

Gabe was watching her from the kitchen doorway. He'd already put Amelia to bed and read her a portion of her favorite book. When she nodded off, he turned off everything except her nightlight and kissed her before seeking out his wife. He waited for Willow to remove her apron and snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting several kisses onto her shoulder.

"Gabe...what are you doing?" It was obvious to her what he wanted, but she felt she should play naive. His hands were snaking underneath her blouse and immediately he cupped her breasts and toyed with them for a moment before unhooking her bra.

She groaned her satisfaction as her husband pinched her nipples and sucked on the soft skin of her neck. His warm body pressed into hers, trapping her against the countertop and he whispered sweet nothings into her ear as his hands ravaged her. Then they swooped down to her skirt and he stretched the elastic, catching her panties in the process. He tugged them along her thighs until they bunched around her knees. He pushed them down the rest of the way with his foot as he quickly unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper. His length was stiff, throbbing, and begging for attention as it appeared. Gabe was rushing to get himself inside his wife and half-assed his clothing. His jeans remained up around his hips and he didn't bother with their shirts.

Gabe momentarily brought himself back to reality to fetch the other bottle of scotch he carried and ripped it open before taking a swig. The liquid was bitter and earthy, but it helped...at least he thought it did. He returned to his memory...

His fingers spiraled around in her folds and he felt she was ready for him. He eagerly slid his cock into her body and the two of them rocked together against the counter. She was grasping at the tile, trying to keep her balance as he pounded into her from behind.

"Oh g-god..." she murmured as Gabe rubbed his fingers against her clit. Her hand joined his at her core and she was so desperate for release that she took over toying with herself.

Gabe wouldn't allow it and he took her hands and gently wrenched them behind her back. It didn't hurt her but she seemed to enjoy his "roughness" and relaxed her arms. He leaned in and licked the back of her ear, sending shivers down her spine before whispering, "I love the way I feel when I'm inside you..."

Her face grew hot and she mumbled something incoherent, but she was so preoccupied with passion...

He could feel his orgasm brewing and knew she was closing in on hers by how fast her breathing picked up. He wanted to see her beautiful face as she approached the heavens and he quickly changed their position so she was seated on the counter and him between her thighs. His lips captured hers and she locked her ankles together to bring him closer as he fucked her. Her nails raked up and down his back.

Gabe picked up his speed and shared the deepest kiss with her...one that was only shared between a married couple who promised their lives to one another. They could see into each other's eyes. Hers were so soft, caring, and filled with love for him...

Tears welled up in his; the flesh surrounding his black orbs turned a pale pink and he knew he was complete.

Within seconds, they both were encased in a cocoon of rapture and eternal bliss.

Gabriel jerked but did not awaken. He was crying in his sleep again; a typical habit he's developed, especially when he dreamed of Willow. His body wouldn't listen to him and he was certain that he'd overdone it with the liquor again. Still, something caused him to tip over onto his side and then he felt himself vomit, but couldn't do anything other than cough it all up. Then, in his drunken stupor, he could tell someone was picking him up and Gabe was sure whoever it was just called him, "pathetic."

Eventually Gabe was being hoisted into a vehicle and thrown across the backseat. His album was tossed onto his belly. It was impossible for him to open his eyes and see clearly the person that picked him up. All he knew is that he was now being carted somewhere against his will and could do nothing about it.

Twenty minutes passed and the car finally came to a halt, but was not turned off. It was night by the time Gabe reopened his eyes. His vision was still blurry but he could feel the gentle weight of the photo album on his belly. He did his best to grasp it when his captor opened the back door and dragged him out. The night air was extremely cold and whoever took him by the arms was incredibly rough and just dragged him over the wet concrete.

It was raining again and quite heavily. Gabe groaned when he was dropped and his head struck the ground. He was half frozen and soaked when the captor decided to leave him with parting words...

"Get sober dumbass. Then come seek me out. You're an embarrassment."

Gabe blinked several times, but the rain kept pelting his eyes and he squeezed them shut. The captor climbed back into the car and drove off. The album was now wet and he could do very little to protect it.

The alcohol in Gabe's blood was really high, but not enough to require a hospital visit. He was just so damn used to it. He couldn't move and wondered if he would freeze to death tonight.

Is this what his life was? Will he succumb to the cold and liquor?

Not tonight.

Someone had clasped onto his arms and tried to lift him again, but they were failing miserably and they were calling for help. Gabe could hear several voices surrounding him and all grabbed onto his limbs and carried him away. He could feel the warmth as he was carried indoors. There was chattering everywhere, but it died down quickly. He remained completely unaware and fell unconscious...

"We need to get him into the rehabilitation center quick!" an older woman shouted.

The women who charged outside to help carry the unconscious man into the building rushed him towards the back of the building and into emergency care. They brought him to a bed and immediately stripped him out of his clothing while an on-staff nurse practitioner appeared, ready to treat the sick man.

"What's going on?" the nurse asked.

"Carol, this man was unconscious outside and left on the steps in the cold. He's not responsive!" another woman said.

Carol approached and immediately started checking the man's vitals. "His breathing is shallow and pulse is a little slow. We need to warm him up immediately and get some fluids in him." She then began preparing an intravenous drip and told the other women they could leave, but not before asking one of them to stay and help.

A woman in her early thirties stayed behind while the others filed out. She had long sandy-colored hair that touched her waist and brown eyes. Her skin was tanned from spending time outdoors. She went over to the side of the bed and peered down at the naked man. She was kind enough to pull up a sheet so he could keep his dignity. "This is the strangest looking person I've ever seen."

Carol finished the line and prepared to place it in the man's arm. "Well, maybe he's a performer. We'll wash off the makeup when we stabilize him. Right now, he's in danger from hypothermia and from the looks of it he's under the influence. Get some hot water bottles and heating pads for his limbs and I'll need another blanket."

"Yes ma'am."

Five hours later there was screaming and shouting echoing through the halls and several volunteers of the center came running towards the emergency wing. Carol was trying her hardest to hold down the odd looking man as he thrashed about and knocked over items on the nightstand nearby. He'd ripped the tube out of his arm and was screeching incoherently. Two ladies grabbed his legs and pushed them against the mattress while another two attempted to hold his arms. Carol and the tanned woman she picked to assist were trying to calm him.

After several minutes of him thrashing around, the women had to call in some muscle and two men who were residents and not volunteers or workers helped hold the man down while the girls put restraints on his limbs. Carol was forced to give the man a sedative. After administering it, the group stayed around the bed to make sure he didn't hurt himself.

It was around three in the morning and Carol watched over the new patient. Only her volunteer assistant remained behind and she was currently pressing a cool cloth to the man's head as he was now sweaty from the episode earlier. They were able to remove the hot bottles and heating pads and leave him with a light blanket. He looked much more comfortable. It was funny though, the women tried to wash him down and take away the makeup, but were astonished to see it was permanent. They laughed a little about it, but figured it was some sort of disorder and berated themselves for chuckling at his expense. During the night, they waited and checked on him.

The following morning, Gabe awakened, groggy and miserable. He was boiling hot and felt nauseous. He attempted to sit up, but realized his limbs were tied down. Where was he? In a panic, he pulled on his restraints and groaned when they wouldn't loosen. He felt a throbbing sensation in his head and immediately stopped. "F...uck..." He struggled a bit more and realized he was beginning to burden his lungs. Breathing was difficult and he was so weak he couldn't do anything about it.

"Relax. You're very sick," said a woman's voice. It was stern and held a lot of authority.

Gabe did his best to look to the right, but the light was driving his headache further into agony and he closed his eyes to stop it. He took heavy breaths to accommodate his screaming lungs, but found it impossible to satiate them.

Carol could hear the wheezing he produced and immediately began prepping a machine to administer albuterol. It was the only one the center had, but it was very useful for patients with asthma and the symptoms she knew all too well. She hooked the poor man up by putting a mask over his nose and mouth and told him to breathe easy. "Just try to calm down. You're experiencing some nasty withdrawal symptoms and you panicked yourself into an attack."

After taking a few deep breaths, Gabe calmed himself a bit, but he couldn't stop his body from shaking and sweating.
"I'm going to leave you on the machines for a while until your palpitations stop," Carol said.

Gabe squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as another wave of nausea hit him. He prayed that he kept everything down. He watched as the nurse roamed around the room with a clipboard.

"I'm fortunate to have only one patient right now. We have a bit of a shortage of nurses. I really hope Abigail manages to find another within the week."

Abigail. Why did that name sound so familiar to Gabe? He peeked up at Carol as if he wanted to ask her a question, but he did not have the energy to speak. Instead he just lie back and let the medicines do their job while he worked through the shakes and annoyances of withdrawal.

Carol saw his questioning look. "Don't you worry, we'll take good care of you and help you through rehabilitation. That's what the center is for and at government expense so no need to worry about how you're going to afford this. Anyways, I'm going to go on a breakfast break. I'm starving and have been up all night looking after you. I'll have my assistant come keep you company and bring you something to eat that you can keep down."

Gabe didn't say anything or nod. Once Carol left the room, he could only lie back an absorb his surroundings. It looked like a hospital, but Carol called it a center. Maybe it was outpatient. Still, the medicines they gave him were helping to keep his asthma in check and he was able to keep relaxed somewhat while the alcohol absorbed into his system. As he rested, the door to the emergency room opened and in came a woman carrying a tray. She had sandy hair and a tan complexion. He also noticed she had a thicker build, particularly around the hips, yet he found it extremely attractive. He shook his head and immediately regretted it because he caused himself a dizzy spell. The woman set the tray down on the bedside table. His stomach churned slightly when the scent of food wafted through the mask on his face, but he saw that two slices of toast and butter lay on the plate along with a glass of some red colored juice.

"I hope you don't mind having simple toast for breakfast and the cranberry juice should help flush out that alcohol," she said. Then she approached the edge of the bed and started to untie the restraint on his right arm. "I think it's okay to let your arms free now that the worst is over. Though, you have a long detox ahead of you."

Once the cuff was taken off, Gabe lifted his hand slightly and found his limb to be very heavy.

"Take your time. There's no rush." The woman moved around to the other side of the bed to undo the other arm and once the restraints were off, she lifted the mask off Gabe's face, to which he finally asked...

"Where am I? Who are you?"

She smiled at him. "You're at Everwood Shelter and Rehabilitation Center. My name's Ulani. I'm one of the staff here and occasionally Carol's assistant. So, who are you?"

He peered at her gentle eyes and liked the softness of her gaze, so he was comfortable enough to give her his name. "My name is Gabriel."