A/N: Thank you all so much for be so patient with me while awaiting this chapter. Please remember to review and tell me what you think! I'm going to list all of my new readers who reviewed/subscribed at the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters seen in the movies or comics. I do own the plot and all original characters.
It was serene here. A hazy cloud enveloped me, a peacefulness taking over all of my senses. A calm breeze was blowing my hair back as I stood in the middle of a meadow, large trees surrounding the outskirts, protecting me from whatever harsh reality lay beyond them. Taking a deep breath, a sweet and fresh scent filled my nostrils, bringing back a feeling of comfort and familiarity. Not wanting to take the moment for granted, I slowly laid myself down on the ground. With the clear blue sky now in sight, I couldn't suppress the smile that danced across my lips in blissful happiness.
There was no sense of time: no worries, no struggles, and no judgments. It was merely peace in its purest form. Was I dead? Was this Heaven? Did I care? No. No, I didn't care.
A few minutes or maybe a few hours passed before I began to hear muffled noises in the far distance. Sitting up out of my comfortable position in the soft grass, I strained my ears to catch what was being carried in the wind. I was able to decipher that it was a voice, maybe more than one. Suddenly, a feeling of dread fell upon the entire meadow, filling me up with a cold terror. The sun that had been casting down warmth was covered by dark clouds. I stood up, my legs threatening to crumple underneath my weight which all of a sudden seemed terribly heavy. An overbearing screeching sound came from the sky and I hastily covered my ears in a desperate attempt to block it out; this was to no avail, however, as the sound seemed to be emitting from inside my own head now. Hot tears streamed down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut.
My paradise was lost.
Those voices I'd heard before were now loud and clear, their deep rumbles beginning to come into my realm completely. My eyes flew open with a rattled gasp. I blinked rapidly to both try to adjust to the dim lighted room I now found myself in as well as fight the stinging sensation attacking my dry eyes.
"Thirty-six hours. That must be some sort of record. Remind me to contact Guinness later on," stated the smug male voice somewhere ahead of me. It was vaguely familiar, but I just couldn't place it without the face. I heard footsteps and a door slam somewhere above.
My head began pounding, making it feel as if a jack hammer was trying to make its way through my skull. I moved my hand to attempt to rub away the agony, but found myself unable to move. My eyes shot open as I tried yet again to move my arm only to find I was being held down – tied down to be more precise. With adrenaline now rushing through my veins, everything came into focus. I was bound by old rope to a chair in the middle of what appeared to be a dirty basement. Struggling for breath, I desperately tried to remember anything that had happened in the last thirty-six hours. Nothing was coming to me.
"The first few seconds after waking up from a drug induced sleep are always the most terrifying. Your lungs feel as if they're collapsing, a cold sweat covers you. Don't worry, sweetie, it'll come back to 'ya in a few more seconds."
Hearing the voice once again, I slowly raised my head, genuinely afraid to see who exactly I was going to be faced with. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to place the man casually lounging in a chair about ten feet away from me. Late twenties, dark ruffled hair, pouty lips…who was this?
My bottom lip began to quiver, jaw slacking and eyes widening. The hospital.
"Scarecrow," I stated rather than asked, glaring at him venomously. I was sure this attempt at a threatening stare wasn't as effective as I'd have liked it to be due to my current drowsy state. This assumption was confirmed when the man chuckled, clearly not shaken by my pathetic display of anger and hatred.
"See, I told you you'd get it. Kudos to you," he said with the quick clapping of his hands, openly mocking me.
"Where am I?" I asked through clenched teeth, strength very slowly coming back to my body. I would take however much I could get at this point.
"Oh, who really cares about those little details," he stated carelessly, still maintaining that enraging relaxed disposition. He stood from his seated position and, with his hands in his pockets, began to slowly circle my chair at a five foot radius. "You want to know what I find interesting, Jessica dear?"
I began pushing against the binding ropes, both out of the want to escape and anger. I needed to keep my mind on something other than this maniac's voice. It was inevitable that he would drive me crazy in a mere hour if he kept this casualty up and he knew it, too.
"Don't want to even venture a guess? Well, I'll tell you anyway. See, I managed to take you from your hospital room in the midst of all that mess created by the Joker thirty-six hours ago and do you know how many phone calls I've gotten? Zero," he stated with the hint of an angry chuckle. "How many people have shown up at my door, just biting at the bit to reclaim you. You guessed it, none. Do you know how many times you've been mentioned on the news?" He took a dramatic pause that hung aimlessly in the air. "Not once."
I'm not going to lie and claim that the last bit of that mini-rant didn't shock me. I shifted my eyes to the ground as he made his way behind me.
"It's interesting, yet not completely unexpected, I guess. I'm sure the police aren't quite ready to come to terms with the fact that they managed to lose their little puppy once again. Nor is Bruce I'm sure. Gosh, what a blow to him-"
"SHUT UP!" I yelled with a scratchy throat, shocking myself at the sudden outburst.
"Touchy subject I see," he stated, enjoyment coating his voice. I felt him place his hands on the back of my chair, leaning against it for support. "As I was saying, that I can understand. What bewilders me is the main player in this game making no moves, and I believe you know who I'm speaking of. He's not the type to just sit back and wait it out as you have experienced yourself."
Deep breaths. In and out, in and out, Jessica.
I was resorting to talking to myself, regulating my own breathing patterns in my head in an attempt to control my rising anger. It wasn't like there was much I could really do bound to this chair, the scratchy rope rubbing against my sore wrists with even the slightest of movements.
I felt his hands move away from the back of my chair as he made his way around to kneel down in front of me.
"Peculiar, isn't it? Since you two have had such quality bonding time, though, when do you think he will make a move? I mean, realistically he could burst through that door right now, shoot me and carry you off to wherever his latest lair resides. Does that scare you, Jessica? That you have no control over your own life?" His eyes bore into mine in what appeared to be genuine interest in whether his words affected me or not.
Truth be told, it terrified me that the Joker could come through that door any second now. It terrified me that I had no control. But what could have possibly terrified me more than anything was the fact that I was able to recognize these fears in an eerily normal way. It was as if I was speaking of my fear of heights or bugs, not a homicidal maniac forcing his way back into my life at any moment.
"Yeah, peculiar," I stated, huffing in sarcastic amusement.
"It looks like now we'll be spending some quality time together if this pattern keeps up. Exciting, huh?" he said as he pinched my cheek animatedly. I pulled away from his display of grandmotherly affection in disgust as he let out a chuckle and stood up to his full height.
With my brain now functioning well enough to come up with something witty to say back to him, I decided to jump at the chance to poke fun at him. "Since we're going to be spending this quality time together, what should I call you? I mean, it's obvious you have some misplaced sense of identity that you need to clean up, but until you go through all of that therapy and fix whatever mind you haven't completely lost already, is it going to be Scarecrow, Crane or what?" I questioned, faking sincere concern.
His eyes narrowed in my direction for a second, his shoulders stiffening for only a moment before a smirk slowly appeared on his lips. "Next time I see Joker boy I'm going to have to ask him how he managed to deal with this shitty attitude of yours."
"That is if you live long enough to get a word in the conversation to begin with," I said before I had time to even think about what had just come out of my mouth and how it must have sounded.
His widening smile confirmed my fear of how badly that statement did in fact sound. Great, I'd just dug myself into a deeper hole with this maniac. "Is that so? Then maybe this scheme really hasn't been for nothing," he said softly before turning around and heading across the room to a staircase I hadn't noticed up until this point. That explained where the footsteps I'd heard earlier had headed to.
"You're just going to leave me down here?" I asked in disbelief.
"Try not to miss me too much, kiddo." He sent a wink in my direction before trudging up the creaky staircase, the top half of which was hidden from my view.
There was no telling how much longer I'd be here, wherever "here" was exactly. Maybe Crane was right; maybe the police were too worried about their own self image to publicize my kidnapping yet again. Hopefully that didn't mean they had given up on all aspects of the search. I couldn't bring myself to even imagine Bruce allowing that to happen. The main problem I could find in the police possibly succeeding in locating me was that they'd be looking in all the wrong places – and for the wrong person at that.
Was I even in Gotham anymore? I was sure I was since Crane or whatever his name was had been watching the news while expecting the Joker to come in at any time.
I sighed deeply as I looked around the dingy basement making me feel even gloomier. The walls were a rusty gray color with a vent located in the top right hand corner. There were no windows or doors. No way out except up the stairs and I didn't think I wanted to know what lay beyond there. I strained my ears to hear if there was any noise coming from upstairs. There was the occasional set of footsteps and I could hear muffled voices, though I certainly couldn't decipher what they were saying.
With all the energy I could muster, I tried yet again to free my hands. The tattered rope burned my wrists with each desperate attempt and it didn't take long for me to become out of breath with exhaustion. Whatever drug that man upstairs had in that vial at the hospital was really messing me up. Feeling defeated, I closed my eyes and hung my head to assess the situation.
At this point in time, there were three possible outcomes to this mess. Number one, which I was most hopeful for, involved the police divvying out the clues and learning of my whereabouts, coming to rescue me for good this time. Number two, I truly would be stuck with Crane for who knows how long, and I would be forced to undergo that "quality time" we'd been previously speaking of. Or three, the Joker would come prancing in here for me at his own leisure, maybe finding a way to keep me hidden away from the world forever this time.
What could I do about all of this? Absolutely nothing other than sit here and wait. That's all I could do in this unbelievable situation. Sit and wait for whatever my fate might be.
The Henchmen: Thirty-Six Hours Ago
"What do you mean she's gone?!" Bob screamed in Cole's masked face. The two men were standing in the middle of the deserted hospital hallway. The sound of frantic voices, sirens and screeching tires were traveling up from outside the large vacant building.
"I mean she's not there, man! She's gone, the plan didn't work out - big surprise," Cole stated as he threw his hands up in defeat.
"Shit man…SHIT!" he screamed before pausing for a moment. "I'm not telling him," Bob stated matter-of- factly.
Cole's eyes immediately widened in both shock and fright at Bob's declaration of neutrality. "Oh, no. There's no way in hell I'm going to be the one to tell him," he stated frantically shaking his head. Suddenly, he remembered what he had found in the room. "Look at this though, Bob. This is going to cause some bullets to fly." At that, he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over to his much larger companion.
Bob wearily snatched the paper from his hand and unfolded it once to see 'Joker' written in curvy handwriting. With a ragged sigh, he unfolded it again to reveal a message written in the same fancy script.
"Well, Joker, it appears we have come to the crossroads. I'd embellish that statement, but I'll just get straight to the point for you. I have Jessica Wayne. Yes, your more than likely plan of sweeping her off her feet once again has come to a fork in the road and it's up to you to make the next move. You have a choice to make: you can either hand over the reins of the city to me or your precious Jessica will be murdered. And trust me, it won't be a happy ending. I'm hiding somewhere in the city in what certainly isn't the most unlikely of places if you wish to speak face to face, but be warned, I'm not alone. Looking forward to seeing you soon, pal. Sincerely, Scarecrow."
"You've got to be kidding me," Bob muttered underneath his breath. He looked up at Cole, his face a shade paler than its regular complexion. "What the fuck are we supposed to do now?" he asked looking around to make sure nobody was there. Not that he was really concerned about this considering the building was expected to blow up in, oh, about three minutes.
The plan on arrival was that Bob and Cole, adorning their clown attire, were to knock out the police officers guarding Jessica's room and carry her down to the getaway car while Joker taunted Harvey Dent – or what was left of him anyway.
"I don't know, but this isn't good," he said as he rubbed his hand over his face.
"Like I said, I'm no-"
"Looky looky here. What are you two boys still doing lurking around?"
The voice caused Bob's heart to stop. Even though he was larger in frame than the boss and a good three inches taller, his presence still sent chills down his spine. That man was just too unpredictable and he'd seen how irrational he could be when in the best of moods. Bob continued to stare at the man across from him, making a silent deal before turning around to face the inevitable.
"Boss," he started, unfazed by the ridiculous nurse outfit the man was wearing, though it still caused him to chuckle silently despite the more than severe situation at hand, "we're stuck with an…unexpected block in the plan."
The Joker narrowed his eyes and stuck out his lips, turning his head to the side, though his stare remained unsettlingly steady. He needn't say a word to command Bob to continue.
The man looked down at the letter in his hand and unwillingly handed it over. "Cole found this in her room."
The two men stood stock still as they watched the Joker's eyes flicker from one man to the other before taking and reading the letter. Both separately readied themselves for the outburst that was sure to shake both grown men to the core.
They watched as his hands began to shake, his eyes still staring at the note. They watched as he slowly crumpled the paper in his hand, his knuckles turning white due to the strong fist he was forming. They watched as his head slowly rose, his eyes blacker than they'd ever seen them before. They listened to the growl that emitted from his chest, sounding like a rabid animal that was getting ready to run wild.
Bob ventured out on a limb, not able to bear the eerie silence that was rapidly becoming filled with the Joker's anger. "What are we going to do, boss?"
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