A/N:let me know what you think


~And I can tell you why people go insane

I can show you how you could do the same

I can tell you why the end will never come

I can tell you I'm a shadow on the sun~

~Audioslave~


Bruce was ready. This was the first day of helping this woman free herself from a monster. He knew he would have to start small. She seemed to hate him for some reason, and he supposed that was understandable, once she was free from Joker long enough she would see that he was helping her.

Deciding the best course of action right now was to just put food through the slot on the door, avoiding seeing each other directly. Of course he could watch her, there was a camera in the corner of the room. You could see everything except inside the small bathroom area, giving her privacy.

He had made sure to give her a small table with two chairs, all bolted to the floor for her safety. He made sure she had fresh clothes in the morning. She had a toothbrush and tooth paste. Any toiletries she might need except for a razor. She would have to do without that.

He slid the breakfast tray into the slot and went back to his console. He still had work to do, he needed to try to find Joker and get rid of him. He couldn't let Lyra go to Arkham until Joker was out of the way for good. He kept the live feed of her room open on the corner of the screen as he tried to track any activities.

He was sad to see she didn't eat any of the food, but she did pour out bottled water, refilling it from the tap in the bathroom. Again he couldn't blame her, he hadn't wanted to drug her but he had no choice. She had been hostile the entire time he spoke with her. He took the tray and disposed of the uneaten breakfast. He would try again with lunch.

He moved back to the computer, staying busy. He still hadn't found out anything with The Joker or his goons. They really had been laying low. That never boded well for the city. A lull in activity seemed to mean something big was happening. Did Lyra know anything? He would have to try to ask her once she trusted him more.

His stomach alerted him to lunch time. He moved to the small fridge and pulled out the prepackaged salad and more water. He pushed the tray into the slot and walked away. By the time he had made his way back to the computer, he was happy to see her finally eating. She finished the small lunch and paced the floor. He smiled, she would be fine. He turned and went back to work.

On the third day, she cried. He hated watching this, but he knew it could be cathartic for her to get all of the emotions out, so he let her cry. She ate each meal that day, Bruce assumed she realized he wasn't going to drug her again. He felt like they were really having a breakthrough.

By the fifth day, all she seemed to do was eat and sleep. The crying had stopped, thankfully, but she barely left the bed. He watched each morning how she accepted the clothes, went into the small bathroom and came out, hair wet and clean clothes on. She would dump the dirty clothes in the corner. She moved back to the bed and laid with her back to the door.

His heart ached for her, but this really was for the best. This poor woman had been held by the Joker and brainwashed into thinking she cared for him. Joker had forced her to marry him. There was no telling what other brutalities he had forced on her. Shuddering at the thought, Bruce knew he had to handle her delicately to prove he was not like the Joker.

He was getting the lunch tray ready, on day six, it was a Sunday. He decided that he would see if she still seemed to hate him. He moved to the door and typed in the code and place his thumb on the print reader. The door opened and he stepped inside. At first, the room seemed empty, causing him to start to panic. The sound of the toilet flushing and the sink starting calmed him down.

He put the tray on the small table and stepped back to the door, waiting. She came out of the door and if he hadn't been watching for it he would not have seen the small flinch like reaction to seeing him there. She stayed calm and moved to pick up the tray. She walked over to her bed, ignoring him completely.

She nibbled at the food, then set the tray down in front of her. He watched as she took in a deep breath. He was happy, she was starting a conversation. She wanted to talk.

"What do you want?" Her voice was so full of hate he almost cringed at the sound.

"I was making sure you were okay." He said, keeping his voice soft and non-threatening.

She let out a small bark of laughter. "Oh, I bet. You kidnap me, drugged me, twice, and keep me locked in a small room, while feeding me like a rabid pet." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you are just worried sick."

He frowned, she was still very angry, the hate obvious in her eyes, and she was talking like him. Was she aware she sounded like the Joker? Bruce didn't think so, he took in a deep breath, "You are safer here. Safer than being with him."

"Funny," she paused, "He never kept me locked in a room with nothing to do, feeding me through the door like a criminal." She said thoughtfully.

Bruce pushed the hurt he felt in his heart aside. He was so sure of that fact that he was helping her, and if she had to hate him now, it would be fine. She would thank him one day. He knew he could save her, if she would just let him help.

"Lyra, please-"

"That is not my name." she said cutting off what he was saying.

"I know about you, your marriage, everything." He said eyes sad.

She laughed bitterly, "I really fucking doubt it."

"I am trying to help you."

"Then let me go, that's the only thing that would help me right now."

"No, not while you still thinks he loves you. He is incapable of love."

She sat there, she started to pick at the food again. He barely noticed the single tear that moved down her face, but he took it as a good sign.

He stood there as she finished the food and set the tray back onto the table. He frowned as she just crawled back into the bed and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. He picked up the tray and the large pile of dirty clothes and left her there to process their conversation.


Peach was losing it, she had barely been able to talk herself down from attacking him with the empty tray she had. She was proud that she was able to do it. The nerve of that son of a bitch. He drugged her, not caring that she was pregnant. What that could have done to her baby.

She started to really think about it. He surely would have mentioned the pregnancy, along with the marriage. He hadn't said anything about the baby, only that Joker had brainwashed her. She was almost sure if he knew about the baby he would try to use it to make her comply. Using whatever he could to get her away from Joker, sounded just like him. She definitely would not be telling him about it. She came to the conclusion he had no clue she was pregnant. Yea, she thought she was huge, but her doctor had told her she wasn't as big as she should be. This could be a problem if he found out.

Right now, her main concern was what her husband was going to do. He would not be happy when he found out who had her. The fear niggled the back of her mind that he may not do anything. He had a strange relationship with Bruce Wayne/Batman. Did she rank high enough on his scale? She wanted to say yes, but that small part of her was unsure.

That thought had caused a tear to escape her eyes, but the effect was apparently enough for Bruce to leave, giving her some peace.

She pushed all of those thoughts out of her mind. She had to keep herself in the present, not worrying about future hypothetical situations. She had to figure a way out of here, she would worry about her husband and his unhealthy obsessions later. Maybe Bruce had a phone on him that she could lift. She doubted he would be so careless, but she had to keep optimistic. If she could just get a text or small phone call to anyone really, she could get the fuck out of this shitty room and back home.


Joker was not happy. Someone had taken his wife, just minutes before he had pulled into the damned garage. He only knew this much because he had gotten his hands on the footage from the security camera in the garage.

Unfortunately, the footage was grainy and dark. If you didn't know that a woman had been grabbed, you couldn't tell from the tape. But they had an approximate time and they watched closely. A dark shadow covered her gray shape and they both vanished. After that, you see a car speed out of the exit, the tape too shitty to see the plates clearly.

Joker had taken the tape and smashed it to pieces, the action made him feel slightly better. The only thing keeping him remotely sane was his plan for the city. He couldn't let everyone know that Peach had been taken. It might undermine the entire operation. They had worked too hard for it to fail too.

He hadn't slept in days, the manic state of his brain adding to the stress of his life. As much as he hated to admit it Peach had become his anchor to sanity. She was the only thing that helped him feel….anything, besides the usual disgust.

He knew was in such a bad state. Earlier he had shot one of his guys. He couldn't remember why, or even who. He just remembered the blood blooming on the man's chest, the growing circles looking like roses blooming. Al he could think was how much Peach would like to see the pretty blood red roses.

Ace had insisted that he go home and get some sleep. Joker had felt like that was a good idea at the time. He drove home, feeling the loss of his wife again when he entered the empty apartment. He moved to his wooden box and carried it to the balcony.

He stood there, an unlit joint in his hand as he looked down on the city. He wondered where his wife was. Was she even alive? Oh that thought made his head pound and his stomach feel off. He lit the joint and drew the hot smoke into his chest. The burn clearing his thought slightly. He let the smoke out, watching it float away. At that second he wished he could fly. Wouldn't that be fun?

He looked over the balcony again, maybe he could try it? It wouldn't be hard to get over the rail. If he was going to fly, he would prefer a running start, but hey, he was pretty high up, it might be enough. The thought of the look Peach would give him if he tried to fly sent him into a fit of giggles. Maybe another time.

He finished the joint and lit another, the sleepy feeling taking a while to hit him. Once he thought he might be able to sleep he made his way back inside, hoping to get at least four hours sleep. That was his usual, a few REM cycles to help him feel normal. Well, normal for him.

He made his way over to sleep on the couch, the bed smelled like his wife and he wasn't sure he would be able to fall asleep without her there. It took a few minutes and he was finally able to pass out.