I'm BACK!!!!

WARNING: involves abuse. And the Joker! :D

Chapter Twenty-Six

When I woke up, it was definitely... three in the morning. I looked at the clock and rolled my eyes. Slept it off longer than I thought.

I rolled onto my back and put my hands over my eyes. I'd fallen asleep above the covers and with my jeans on. And here's the kicker – I actually felt better. A hell of a lot better. I felt like I could be sarcastic again!

For some reason the thought of that made me smile. 'Thank God that's over,' I mumbled to myself.

'There's not very many ways to reply to that, but I'm gonna give it a shot: thank God what's over?'

'What the heck are you doing here?' I hissed, looking over the edge of my bed and accidentally falling out. There was an oof as I landed on someone.

'Oh, you were actually awake when you said that,' the Joker said, clearing his throat and arching his eyebrows. He suddenly frowned and growled, 'Why are you still on me?'

I rolled off of him quickly and sat up. 'I asked a question first – what are you doing here?'

'I'm not here.'

'Yes, you are!'

'No, I'm not.' He didn't even sound sarcastic. He sounded like he was telling the boring old truth. 'You're dreaming. Again.'

'Oh, really?' I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 'Listen, I don't dream about you – well, I do, but not you in the present.'

'Oh, really?' the Joker asked, mimicking my tone. I glared at him and he smirked, lifted up his right hand and snapped his fingers.

I woke up on my bed with my jeans on. I sat up, very confused.

'What the heck just happened?' I asked and looked at my clock. Oh good. It was only five in the morning. Much better than three. I rolled my eyes and fell back on my pillow.

You still feel better than yesterday, the Voice said. I groaned but had to admit it was right.

--

I rolled out of bed before everyone else did. It was around seven when I walked into the kitchen and looked for something in the fridge that I might not destroy, and about seven fifteen when Iggy walked in.

'Mornin',' he said, raising a hand, his sightless eyes pointed in my direction. 'You okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine, Ig,' I said brightly.

Iggy shrugged. 'You just seemed a little... annoyed yesterday. And you've been in your room for over twelve hours.'

I couldn't help but feel a little happy. It was hilarious when Iggy wasn't being sarcastic and actually showing he cared.

'I'm fine. But everyone else won't be if I cook breakfast. So please,' I asked, 'can you help me?'

'Well, because you said please,' Iggy said, rolling his eyes and elbowing me out of the way of the fridge and leaning in, touching things and shaking them to see what they sounded like. I smiled.

--

'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Yes, Fang, I'm fine.'

Fang gave me a look so hawklike it was disturbing.

'I'm fine, Fang. Just had a bad day yesterday.'

It was a pretty sunny day and we were down at the rocks. Me and Fang were on boulders, soaking up sun, Nudge and Iggy were talking and Gazzy, Angel and Total were playing in the water. I was glad we weren't at the park for once. But I felt stupid because beaches reminded me of the Max and Fang days... and when I'd tried to cut my chip out.

I shivered and looked at the scars on my left arm. They were white and thin. Disturbing old memories.

'Why're you thinking about that?' Fang asked, eyeing my wrist.

'Fang,' I said, looking him in the eye. He nodded, and there would've been a time where I would've said everything to him. But now I could only say some things. 'I saw how the Joker got his scars.'

Fang blinked. 'Are you serious?' he asked, lowering his voice.

'Absolutely. He was...' I shivered again. 'He was like Gazzy's age. Younger. And his dad went completely mental.'

'Do you want to talk about it?' Fang asked. He meant in a detailed way. Or maybe he meant what I had to say on it. I shook my head. 'No,' I said quietly, and curled up, looking out at the ocean. Suddenly, I snapped out my wings, jumped to my feet and took off, flapping down hard. And then it was all better.

Upwards stroke, downwards stroke, upwards, and so on. I could see my reflection on the water. I looked down at it and smiled at the blurry Max in the moving waves.

If only life was like this all the time, and wasn't so freaking screwed up.

--

At about six the sky turned dark and it started pelting down with rain though. Not the kind of rain you can walk out in and be like, 'Wow, this is nice.' It was the kind of rain that threw itself at the ground and made you glad you were inside.

We were all slumped around my room, listening to the rain and with the light turned on. Nudge was on her stomach in the middle of the floor, talking to Gazzy, who was also on his stomach and eating Cookies 'n' Cream Ice-Cream (even though it was, well, sorta freezing). Iggy was under my window, engaged in conversation with Fang, who was sitting up against the opposite wall next to my bathroom door, talking about something that as much as I tried to listen to faded out of my subconscious. Total was curled up at the end of my bed, snoring and twitching, while Angel and I were sitting on my bed, with my pillow behind her back, and she was talking enthusiastically to the Gasman and Nudge. I had one arm around her shoulders protectively, even though there wasn't anything to protect her from.

For now.

Me? I wasn't doing anything except looking at the window to see the rain splash across it, listening to the noises it made, and watching over the flock time to time. I nearly felt like we were in a cave somewhere, watching for Erasers to come and attack, feeling hungry but almost kind of successful, because we'd beaten everything the School had thrown at us.

I shivered. Why had the School left us alone for so long? The Erasers could come and attack this place any time they liked. For that moment, everything seemed to crash:

I hated being this public. Anyone can find us, the School will find us, and they'll kill people to get to us because now we have too many contacts with the outside world, like Tony, and Dr Martinez, and Ella, and the Joker, and I hate it, I never want to go back.

Ari was dead.

Then the crash moment ended and I felt childish for worrying about so many things that, now when I thought about it, still seemed like things to worry about. And Ari dying was something I hadn't thought about in forever.

I frowned. Why hadn't I thought about it in forever? Hm, because a crazy clown was following me all the time and then I kissed him? Yeah, probably.

I couldn't help but feel better all the same that one of my enemies was down.

So what else did I have to worry about?

Oh, yeah, that I was completely going to die if I didn't see the Joker again sometime soon. I was seriously peeved off – he said he'd come sometime, and I had no idea where the hell he lived. IF he lived anywhere. I could always go to the park – that was some place he hung around in –

'Max?' the Gasman asked, looking at me. 'Are you okay?'

I looked over at him and nodded. 'I'm all good, Gazzy.'

--

'You guys wanna go to the mall today?' Nudge asked in a bored tone, like she was just throwing it out there and not really caring for our reply.

It was raining like hell the next day and instead of being slumped around my room, we were now slumped around the living room.

'Not really,' Iggy said tonelessly. 'It'd mean leaving this couch.'

'It's not that bad,' I said lightly, looking outside. In truth, it was pretty bad, but nothing compared to yesterday's bullet-drops. 'You know what? We could go to the park...'

Iggy snorted.

'Hey, is Tony here?' Gazzy asked, frowning as he stared at the TV that wasn't on.

'Maybe he drowned,' said Fang, shrugging. Angel was sitting on the floor, moving Celeste around, looking half-asleep. It was a slow conversation, like no one could be bother talking.

Except for me.

'How could he have drowned?' I asked, frowning. Fang shrugged. 'Shower's are dangerous.'

I rolled my eyes, standing up. 'I'll go check on him.'

As I walked across the living-room to Tony's door, I heard Iggy murmur 'Isn't it weird when Max says that kind of stuff?'

'So incredibly weird,' Fang muttered and I gritted my teeth, opening Tony's door.

And he was not in there.

I looked out at the flock, about to ask when Iggy droned, 'He's down in the garage.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'And you didn't tell us this earlier when Gazzy asked, why?'

Iggy shrugged. 'Cause I only heard him moving down there now. He's being really quiet.'

I rolled my eyes, annoyed Iggy couldn't see my expression, travelled back across the living-room and walked down the metal stairs which clanged under my feet.

'Tony?' I called and stopped, staring at him. He was sitting down at a table, looking amazingly vacant, staring at the designs practically thrown all over the desk. Only he probably wasn't aware of their existence.

'Tony?' I asked, raising my eyebrows and jumping the last three steps.

'Um-hmm?' he hmm-ed, not moving the slightest.

'Why do you look like you've been up all night and are nearly half-dead?' I demanded, standing behind him and using my Dr Max tone.

He turned around, showing some expression of human emotion (annoyance) and his eyes were focused on me. 'I wasn't up all night. I've been here since five.'

'Oh, that's normal,' I said sarcastically.

'Hey, you used to leave the house practically before that,' Tony argued.

We both stared at each other with wide eyes. 'Oh, my God,' I said. 'I sound like the parent here.'

'Oh, my God,' Tony said, sounding exactly like me (just, well, he's a guy). 'You sound like the parent here.' I rolled my eyes at him and he grinned momentarily to annoy me, turning back to the ideas all over the papers and... not really watching them. I stepped up to the desk and looked at him. His eyes were less vacant than before but they were getting back. I snapped my fingers and his eyes flickered to me.

'Yeah?'

'What's up?'

'Uh... nothing.'

'Can you possibly sound like the parental here for a moment?' I asked, sounding slightly whiny.

Tony shrugged. 'Don't really feel like it.'

'But of course,' I said, narrowing my eyes.

'Hey, I'm a guy. I can be immature forever. You can go back upstairs now if you want.'

I looked around for a chair for a minute, found one and dragged it to the desk. 'Unlikely. No one's doing anything.'

'I can HEEEAAAARR YOOOOUUU,' Iggy sang loudly and I rolled my eyes. Tony looked up at the staircase and raised his eyebrows. 'That wasn't weird at all...'

'Seriously, what's wrong?' I pressed.

'Nothing,' Tony insisted, picking up a scrunched-up ball of paper and chucking it in the air, catching it and chucking it up again.

'Can't think of anything you want to make?'

The paper ball whistled through the air and landed back in his hand. 'No.' He sounded bored, like I was going to get nothing out of him. Let him have fun while he can, bwahahahaha! 'It's fine, Max –'

'Can't figure out what some Black Sabbath song that's absolutely driving you crazy is called?'

'No, Max.'

'Is it a different band? Like ACDC or Coldplay?'

The paper flew back up and back down. 'No. Since when have I liked Coldplay?'

'I don't know.'

The fact he was throwing the ball in the air and catching it repeatedly was starting to get on my nerves. 'Come on, what's wrong?'

'Nothing, Max, God... what is it with you and –?!'

My arm snapped out and grabbed the paper ball in midair. I pulled my arm back to my side, my knuckles cracking and my shoulder blade. 'What's – wrong?' I asked slowly.

Tony stared at me for a few seconds, probably wondering which smart remark to make. So he totally surprised me when he said, 'You know that girl I invited to the New Years Eve party?'

'Tall, blonde, probably sixteen, yes,' I said, nodding.

Tony rolled his eyes. 'She's not blonde, will you get over that?'

'Sixteen, still?'

'Okay, that's the reason we are not talking about this –'

'Oh, God,' I said, staring at him. 'She proposed to you and you killed her. Or did you try to kill her and fail, and now she's suing you? Oh, man, Tony, this is huge –' I suddenly stopped, feeling like a complete jerk. 'Sorry,' I mumbled. 'I got carried away.'

Tony shook his head. 'I can't stop thinking about her.'

'Whoa,' I said. Truth was, I was actually amazed. I switched back to Dr Max. 'How long has this been happening? The thinking-about-her part?'

'I just rang her up and talked to her and – she sounded different, yeah, I haven't seen her for sixteen years –'

'You haven't talked to her in sixteen years and you just rang her up, asking if she wanted to go to a party with you?'

'We knew each other a while back... and –'

'Were you guys, like, high-school buddies?'

'No... because I met her way after high-school.'

'Oh. What happened?' You may find this weird, but I was actually interested in hearing what Tony had to say about her.

'Well... she got mad and then I got mad and we just stopped talking to each other.'

'That's it.'

'Yup.'

'Over what?'

Tony hands clenched suddenly. 'Nothing,' he said, shrugging. I didn't believe that for a second, but some things you have to keep to yourself.

'Okay,' I said, shrugging. 'Well. When you rang her up, she wasn't mad anymore?'

'No. She came... and, yeah, apparently after sixteen years she wasn't mad at me.'

'Hm. And now you can't stop thinking about her. Do you think you might actually have feelings for her?'

Tony looked over at me and arched an eyebrow. 'That's not funny,' he said.

'I'm being serious. Dude, if she's not blonde and, well, not sixteen, maybe that's made you go crazy?' We didn't talk for a moment. I didn't feel like his daughter. I didn't think I ever would. I felt more like his friend, or a distant cousin that just came to stay in the house.

'What does she look like?' I asked.

Tony shook his head. 'Doesn't matter.'

I frowned. 'She is blonde!'

'No, she's not,' Tony said, and I couldn't help but feel proud of making the frustration in his voice. 'She has dark hair.'

'Wow,' I said, shifting back into sarcastic mode when I realised he couldn't really care less about making a point of this. 'That's a real big change. I mean, I thought she would've been... I don't know, a dark blonde? Light brown? Maybe red hair? But you shifted all the way to dark. Jeez, how'd you do it?'

'The same way you shifted from emotionless angel kids to clowns,' Tony said, rolling his eyes.

I scowled and suddenly realised where I'd inherited my sarcasm.

--

Okay, so where the hell was I now?

I looked down, saw I was sitting on a floor. There was a light shining down on me and, as I glanced around the room, I had a sudden idea of where I was.

I jumped to my feet and pressed myself up against a wall. 'You have got to be kidding me, Voice –'

Maximum, I am not the one who is making this happen.

'Yeah, well, who is?' I mumbled, staring like a small frightened rabbit as I saw Jack Napier sitting at a table – the one I'd sat at when I'd been in these kinds of dreams last time – looking over a few pieces of paper.

I swallowed and tried to calm myself down. Nothing could be worse than the scars thing. That gave me some comfort, so I edged away from the wall, becoming more eager to know what he was looking at. Just to make sure I could be as loud as I wanted, I jumped up and down, waving my arms about. I made no sound on the floor. I stomped down, hard. Jack didn't look up.

This was kinda cool.

Just as I was wondering how I could use this stupid dream and awesome silent skills to my advantage, I heard the front door open. I turned around and saw the Joker walk through the door.

And my jaw dropped.

He was older than fifteen. He was probably only seventeen, but the difference over two years was astounding. I mean, he looked just older somehow, and his hair was darker, and he was slightly less pale, though he still had dark half-circles under his –

His eyes. He looked... he looked so much worse in his eyes. They looked hollow, dark and dead, like they'd seen too much bullshit and had finally decided to leave. When he had been fifteen, they still looked kind of lively. But now... it was like how his eyes looked now. I'd never noticed it before, and I felt like a creep.

He was still wearing his ratty black trenchcoat, his shoulders hunched and his hands were in his pockets. It mustn't have been so cold out today, because he wasn't wearing a scarf – just a T-shirt and jeans. He stopped dead when he saw his father, who was grinning at him.

'Thought you got home later,' he said, looking blank.

'Hello to you too,' Jack said brightly and I shuddered. The Joker looked at the paper in Jack's hands. 'What's that?'

'Oh, nothing... just a few very detailed letters from a few teachers.' He shrugged nonchalantly but the Joker's eyes had widened. 'You're not supposed to read that,' he said.

Jack raised his eyebrows as if he had been told he wasn't allowed to smile anymore. 'Really?' he asked in a voice that was absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

The Joker winced. His eyes darted from Jack's face to the broken envelope on the table. He snatched it up, reading to who it was addressed. 'It's for Harley!' he said, throwing it back down on the table.

'When did you start calling your mother by her first name?' Jack asked interestedly.

Me? I was freaking out. Not so much as last time, but I could tell things were going to get a little brutal, as much as I didn't want to. It was something about the way Jack was looking – and something about the way the Joker was looking, like he knew how it was going to end but was going to do everything he could to prevent it.

'Mom,' he said quickly. 'I'm going upstairs –'

'No, you're not,' Jack said. It was creepy that he was unable to stop smiling – I mean, yes, it always had been, but you had the feeling that even if he wasn't stuck with a permanent grin, he'd still be smiling. He had complete control over this kid – and he knew it.

The Joker took a step back towards the door. Jack shook his head. 'You're not going anywhere, kiddo,' he said, standing up.

'I didn't do anything,' said the Joker, moving back towards the hallway that would lead him to the stairs.

'Of course not,' Jack said, as if he was completely at his son's aid, but he was advancing on him. It was scary that he had enough power over him – the Joker could've easily fought him off, but he wasn't going to. 'No. It's just someone else that's failing most of your grades. The last couple of fires in the science lad weren't you. The couple of guys in your class who talked to you last week –' He shook his head. 'Of course you didn't do anything.'

The Joker took a few steps back, walked into the wall and seemed to remember how familiar this was. He looked back at Jack. 'They're a couple of bastards who told me stop smiling,' he said, putting his hands up. As a last resort, he added quietly, 'I'm sure anyone else would've done the same – you would've –'

'Oh? The principal's son happened to be one of those kids. I can't help but doubt it, kiddo...'

The Joker opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head wordlessly and moved around the corner, disappearing into the hallway. Jack laughed darkly and followed him. I stood where I was, torn between needing to know what was going on and wanting to run out of the house until this was over.

'Don't even try running –' There was a sudden thud as someone hit the ground. I jumped, and heard more noises: it sounded like one was kicking the other. Really, really hard. Then there was the sound of someone spitting something out and trying to breathe, then more kicking noises.

I realised I was running across the room into the hallway and I stopped dead in my tracks, eyes and mouth wide open. Every cell in my body screamed for me to run, but I couldn't – it was like I frozen to watch it.

The Joker was on his knees, looking rather fazed. There was blood around his mouth and on the floor, and he was leaning over his stomach as if trying to protect something –

Jack was standing above him and suddenly his foot connected with the Joker's stomach. He fell onto his side, sprawled at the bottom of the staircase. His eyes held some kind of emotion: fear.

I suddenly wanted to kill Jack, more than anything in the world. He had destroyed this kid's life. 'Stop it,' I said, sounding hysterical. 'Stop it, stop it, stop it!'

'Do you know why I send you to that school?' Jack roared, kicking his son again, who spat out more blood onto the staircase, choking briefly then gasping. 'Huh?' Jack continued and the Joker shook his head frantically. 'Because that principle happened to be one of my father's good friends so me and your mom thought maybe you could get a good education there, hm? For once in your fricking life could you possibly consider something before you do it? Hm?' He'd kicked his son on every word he'd emphasised. The Joker swallowed, trying to climb up the staircase backwards. 'Could you?' he managed, spitting out more blood.

Jack froze. 'What was that, kiddo?'

'Did you have a bad day or something? Is Harley allowing you anything more than a hug now, or is she still pissed off at you for breaking my arm four months ago?' the Joker asked, sounding untroubled. I put my hand over my mouth; at the remark or at the fact his arm had been broken I didn't know. Maybe both. 'There's always something wrong when you do this. But, hey, here's an idea: maybe you should stop, and then Harley might not sleep on the couch. Then again, she'll probably be over it today. It only took her five to get over these.' He indicated his scars.

Jack looked like he was going to make sure his son broke a lot more than his arm this time. 'You did not just say that –' he began when the Joker kicked him hard in the chest, making him fall back. The Joker was suddenly on his feet, running up the stairs. I jumped over Jack, following him until I slipped through the door a second before he slammed it and locked it.

He leaned against it, breathing hard and wiped some blood from his mouth. Or more, he wiped it across his face.

I gulped. The Joker glanced around the room and caught sight of himself in a dusty, square mirror on the other side of the room. He had blood trailing over one of his scars and slowly spanned out blood on the other one. It looked like the 'smile' make-up he wore and I couldn't help but gasp.

There was a sudden bang against his door that I couldn't help but guess was Jack. The Joker leaned up against the door, jolting as it was banged against again. 'You did not just lock this door, did you?! Open it!'

The Joker rolled his eyes.

'Listen kiddo,' Jack growled through the door. 'I am your father and I'm ordering you to open this door.' He shouted out some more things and the Joker simply stood there. I wondered if the door was going to break and prayed not.

'Y'know what?' Jack asked, sounding calmer – not that I believed it. 'If you open this door right now, I'll forget the whole thing. Okay? Open the door. I'm not gonna hurt you if you just open this frigging door –'

The Joker laughed and I shivered. It was that wheezy choking kind of sound and Jack suddenly stopped shaking the door.

'First of all, go to hell,' said the Joker, looking incredibly calm. 'And second of all, if you even thought I'd let you in here, you're, uh, well, you're just insane.'

The door suddenly banged so roughly I thought it would go off its hinges. 'You little son of a bitch!' Jack roared and there was the noise of the front door opening.

'Mr J?' Harley's voice called. She indeed sounded happy. 'Mr J, I'm home!'

The Joker sighed in relief and Jack hissed through the door, 'Hey, don't get your hopes up. Your mom's not gonna be here the whole night, kiddo – she's going back out in an hour.'

The Joker tensed. Jack somehow realised this because he laughed. 'See ya then.'

And I heard his footsteps travel away from the door and Harley scream with joy when she saw him.

The Joker picked up a bag off the floor, opened his closet and grabbed a few pairs of jeans and a shirt. He chucked them in the bag and a black box that jingled (money box, I'm guessing). He moved around his room, picked up a deck of cards and threw them into the bag, found a wallet and in that went too.

He was leaving. This was how he left. I wondered if he ever intended to come back to Gotham city. He probably didn't.

I reached out and tried to touch his arm but something was there – an inch force field of pressure that wasn't allowing me any closer. I realised – memory. Wasn't allowed to interfere.

He still stopped and lifted his head then looked around his room, frowning. 'Hello?' he asked, arching one eyebrow.

'Hi,' I said, sighing. He didn't notice anything, though he still glanced warily at his arm and went back to looking for things that were important.

'I wish I could've known you now. Maybe I could've helped... and you just so happen to look really good,' I said awkwardly, sitting down on his bed. I couldn't help that last part, it slipped out.

He wiped his hand across his mouth and licked his lips. He looked over at his drawer then ripped open one, taking out a wicked-looking blade. He nodded, and threw it in. He found a few more knives in his drawer and put them with the first one.

Then he stood up, leaned over his bed and opened his window, jumping out and grabbing onto a tree branch then shifting onto another one then falling to the ground. I followed him, being the squirrely climber I am, out through the front yard and onto the sidewalk.

And, after one more look at his house, he ran down the street. I wanted to follow him, to know just how he left Gotham.

--

Then I woke up.

Oh, great. I endured watching abuse, and I can't see the lighter side of the story. I sat up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. 'Oh, come on,' I murmured to myself. 'That sucked.'

'Aw, gee, that hurt, cause I think I heard my name mentioned,' said someone from the other side of the room. I looked over and my jaw dropped. The Joker glanced at me and rolled his eyes. 'I've done this before, why do you look so surprised?' he asked, sounding bored.

--

CLIFFY! Yes, I know, I cut off the chapter at the exact same point I cut off in the OTHER chapter where the Joker did this, but I just need to get off the computer for a second and I think I need to end this chapter. :)

I hope you guys liked it... well, not the abusive part, I meant like Tony's "Feelings Time". Or something.

Hope you did anyway! Thanks!

Please review.