Chapter Twelve: Bonding and Bondage

For the second time in two days, Willy woke up from a sudden nap by having freezing water thrown on him. He looked around. He was in an alley, and it was probably somewhere in Sunnydale. Who would have done this?

"Where. Are. They?"

Willy became even colder. It was Batman. (He sounds pissed!) "I-I-I don't know!"

Batman came into view. "Wrong answer."

Willy swallowed. (He looks even more pissed!)

"The Joker. Rack. Dala. Where are they?"

"I'm telling you, I don't know!" Willy protested. "Some guys in the bar said they heard that they were back in town but I haven't seen them or any of the demons working with them. I swear!"

Batman leaned in until his nose almost touched Willy's.

"Do you know what I am prepared to do to you unless you tell me the truth?"

"T-torture me until I die?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Torture that ends too quickly isn't really torture at all."

"Oh, God…" Batman grabbed his arm. Willy pissed himself again and started to babble. "I don't know anything, I really don't, I swear, nobody tells me anything right before a major job because they know I have a low pain threshold and really love my own skin and want it to stay intact, and please oh God please don't hurt me I'll tell you anything else you wanna know I mean you wanna know where Jimmy Hoffa really is or who really killed Kennedy then I'm your guy but please don't-"

Batman cut him off with a nerve pinch. Willy slumped over, unconscious.

"I can't believe you let him go on that long," Robin observed as he went to join Batman.

"I hoped if I let him go on long enough he would say something useful."

"Why'd you cut him off?"

"Because when they start mentioning Kennedy and Hoffa it means they really don't know anything."

"So what happened to Kennedy and Hoffa?"

"When we get back, you have one week to find out. No, you can't get Oracle to help you."

"Dammit."

The Joker's mad laughter rang through the hideout, almost drowning out his victim's agonized scream. The screaming was pleasant at first, but it was beginning to grate on Dala's nerves. Everything about the Joker was grating on her nerves. "Please, master," she begged. "Allow me to kill him!"

"No, and not just because he amuses me," the Monk replied coolly. "I see that you have forgotten me, Dala."

"Never!" she protested.

"You have," the Monk said sternly, "because you have forgotten that I do not allow those that have helped me to be harmed, at least not until they have been fully repaid. We both know that the Joker wants to do something with the boy he resurrected, so we will allow him to do it. Then, and only then, will I consider allowing you to kill him."

"Yes, master," Dala scowled.

"It's your own fault, you know," the Monk told her. "I appreciate what you have done for me my dear, but really- did you have to deal with him?"

"I believed it was the best way to take revenge on the Batman, master. Of course, that was before I discovered-"

"Yes, yes," the Monk waved, cutting her off before she could rant again. "I know. He's completely insane. He threatened your plans." The Joker's laughter grew even louder, and the scream rose in pitch.

"You know," the Monk mused, "I think I would like to see the man at work, so I shall go to him. Attend me, Dala."

"Yes, master."

The two vampires followed the sound of laughter into another chamber. Jason Todd lay strapped to a gurney, moaning softly. He had been stripped, and his nipples were clamped. The clamps were attached to an electric dynamo shaped like the Joker's head. His face was smudged, proof that he had been crying recently. The Joker stood over him, rubbing his hands and cackling.

"Having fun?" Dala asked acidly.

"You have no idea," the Joker purred. "If you want a go I'll let you have one, but be careful- don't let him pass out."

"Torture has certainly come a long way since I was first sired," the Monk mused. "I would have never dreamed that the power of lightning could do anything but kill a man." He looked at the Joker. "Have you ever considered using a chainsaw? I've wanted to do that for quite some time, but the opportunity never arose."

"Actually, no. I want to break the kid so I can use him later. Chainsaws are on my list of what I'm going to do to Batman though, so if we capture him you'll get your wish if you stick around long enough."

"Hell," Jason moaned weakly. His voice sounded rough, no doubt from the screaming. "Why did you send me to Hell?"

"The dear boy thinks he's in Hell," the Joker whispered. "I'd be a bad host if I told him otherwise, wouldn't I?" He started laughing again.

"What do you want with him, Joker?" Dala demanded.

"Well, it's the strangest thing," the Joker remarked. "You know, back when I was starting out, it seemed like every do-gooder Tom, Dick, and Harry had a kid sidekick. Batsy had the Boy Blunder, the Flash had that obnoxious Mini-Me, Green Arrow had his little speed freak, and on and on. Why, I asked myself, did nobody on our side have a kid sidekick? Sure we have flunkies, and flunkies are disposable and easily replaceable, but all the flunkies in the world don't equal one kid sidekick. I prowled the world looking for a sidekick of my own, but no child had the promise. Oh, some came close but none were quite good enough. Well, one was. Guess."

"Robin."

"Got it in one," the Joker smirked. "A lot of kids fit the psychological profile I needed in order to make them my sidekick, but none of them could really defend themselves in a fight, and let's face it- that's what a sidekick is for. The only kid I knew about that was already trained and easily accessible is Robin. Pick one, doesn't matter- they can all fight. I knew that I could help him come around to my way of thinking if I had enough time, but the problem became getting him away from the big, bad Bat. I never resolved that problem, so I eventually abandoned my plan. But now- now, I have an opportunity to take it up again!" The Joker frowned down at Jason. "Of course, the spell that brought him back aged him a bit, but what the hell- I am nothing if not adaptable! I thought I'd have to spend quite some time breaking him, but if the dear boy is all dazed-and-confused as is, I figure a lot of my work is done, and soon Gotham will experience the Joker and-" he suddenly paused. "You know, I haven't named him yet." He started pacing. "I have to do this right. The wrong name will leave Junior a laughingstock, and not in the good way. Oh sure, once he starts his career of mirthful murderous mayhem his name will be feared, but I need something that will make people tremble before that. Let's see… Joker-Boy? No. Kid Joker? No. Joker-Lad? No."

Dala and the Monk shared a look of mutual annoyance as the Joker listed off names.

"The Joker's Son! No. Harlequin! No, that's too much like Harley. Help me out here!"

"As far as I'm concerned you can call him Jailbait!" Dala snapped.

"No," the Joker told her. "That's just wrong. Although it would tweak the Bat something fierce…"

"How about the Jester?" Everyone turned to look at Rack. "A jest is similar to a joke, but not quite as funny," Rack continued as he sauntered in. "It is therefore somewhat lesser, but related."

"Hey," the Joker said. "Hey! I like that!"

"I know," Rack smiled. He looked down at Jason. "How comes the reprogramming?"

"He's still loyal to the Bat, but I'll break him."

"Want help in speeding up the process?"

"You've done enough. I wouldn't to owe you too much."

"For something like this, I would owe you."

"Really?"

"Yes. Let's just say that I really hate superheroes, and leave it at that. I'll cast a spell to distort the boy's thoughts. It'll speed up the process."

"Why don't you just shoot him up with that concoction you injected those villains with?" Dala sniffed. "The ones that essentially turned them into you. That would be more efficient."

"It's easily reversible, and less fun," the Joker pointed out. He turned to Rack. "If you wouldn't mind, go ahead." He turned back to Dala and the Monk. "You wanna watch? I'm about to do the really fun stuff. It will be a very good show."

"It would kill a few hours," the Monk shrugged. "Dala, you know what to do."

"Yes, master," she nodded as she left the room.

"What's she doing?"

"Getting me some popcorn."

"You eat popcorn?"

"Only when I'm watching a good show. I like it hot, salted, and buttery- it mixes with the blood just so."

"You put blood in your popcorn?"

"An acquired taste. I like the texture."

"Hi!" Dawn called out as she entered the Magic Box. School was agonizing- well, not 'school' so much as 'the wait for school to end so she could join in the search.'

"Hey, cuz," a voice called from one of the tables. She saw "Jack Malone" on a laptop.

"Hi, Robin," she said as she went to join him. She dropped her bag on the floor and sat down next to him. (Even when he's dressed like a total skeeze, he's pretty hot)

"No, it's Jack, not Robin. That's my big brother." He started laughing. "Robbie says it's short for Robert, but I know the truth."

"Okay, that is really creepy."

"Sorry," Robin told her in his normal voice. "But if anybody comes by I have to act like Jack again. You're gonna have to act normal if that happens."

"Okay," she shrugged. (God, I hope nobody comes, unless it's Buffy and Nightwing!) "Is it fun doing that? The whole skeeze thing, I mean?"

"The kid's a total punk," he admitted, "but he's fun now and then."

"Cool. Have we found anything?"

"No," he scowled. "Willy didn't know anything, and Mr. Giles' contacts didn't either. I haven't seen Willow and Tara for a few hours so I don't know what's going on with their spell."

"Crap," Dawn scowled.

"Yes," he fervently agreed.

"Do ever get used to it?" Dawn asked suddenly. "The waiting, I mean."

"Honestly? No. Not when the people you're waiting for could be dead."

"I thought so." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "So what exactly are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for Oracle to give me some info."

"Who?"

"Oracle's a computer hacker." Robin told at her. "She helps the hero community gather information about- well, about everything. The Joker loves to gloat. There's a chance that he might have gotten a message to some of the freaks in Gotham. If he's got Nightwing, he'll probably gloat. If he does, people will talk, and Oracle will find out everything they know. It's a slim lead, but when lives are in danger we pull out the stops."

(He's got nice eyes) she thought. "Especially when it's somebody you care about."

"No, that makes it harder. We can't let ourselves feel too much when we're working, because if we're emotional we get too wrapped up in how we feel. That makes us more likely to miss important details, and people die when that happens."

"So, you don't care at all?"

Robin swallowed after she asked him that question. He remembered Stephanie in action, as Spoiler and later as Robin. He also remembered how he felt when he was told about her death. His thoughts turned to Darla. They didn't have anything, not really, but they might have. Then there was Commissioner Gordon. Robin didn't care about him the same way that he cared about Steph or Darla, but it still hurt when he heard that the Commish was shot, even though he recovered.

"It doesn't help," he finally managed, and turned his eyes back to the screen. He would have had to have been blind not to notice how pretty she was. (It hasn't been that long since they died.) He felt sick. (How can I sit here and let myself check out Dawn Summers? What kind of a heartless, horny freak am I?) He was interrupted by the sudden beeping of the laptop. "I better go somewhere private and read this," he muttered as he stood up. "It's kinda confidential."

"I can go somewhere else," she said, looking confused.

"No, you should stay. Really."

"But I-"

"It's okay, really," he told her as he ducked away. (I feel as confused as she looks. I hope I didn't hurt her or anything.)

Cassandra entered the Summers house with all the stealth her training imparted in her. She knew she didn't have to, but time spent practicing her skills was never wasted. It was about the only thing she could do that wasn't wasting time. Her reading skills weren't very good, so she couldn't help with the research. All of the leads had been covered or were still being investigated, and she knew that until somebody found something she would be useless.

She entered through the kitchen door. (Kitchens are places where people go all the time) Alfred taught her that. Therefore, it wasn't surprising when she heard Xander coming her way. She had already memorized the distinctive gait of each Scooby, so she could tell them apart. (What is a 'Scooby,' anyway?) He blinked when he saw her.

"Oh, hey," he nodded as he went to the fridge. "I'm just getting something. You hungry?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Okay, we got- uh let's see here-" he withdrew a piece of leftover chicken and a can of pop.

"Fruit is fine," she suggested. "I like apples."

"Well then- uh- you're in luck. Catch!" he turned and tossed her an apple. "You want something to go with it?"

"Water's okay."

"Alright." He closed the kitchen door and went to one of the cupboards. He opened it and pulled out a glass. He turned and handed it to her, and she filled it from the tap. She let the tap run for a few seconds before putting the glass underneath, another trick Alfred taught her.

Xander sat down at the kitchen table, and motioned for her to take a seat. She did, and they ate in silence. (I love the first bite of an apple- except when it has a worm in it!) she thought.

"Can I ask you something?" he suddenly asked her.

"Sure," she told him.

"Do you guys give out autographs?"

Cass blinked. (Nobody's ever asked me that before.) "I don't know," she replied cautiously. "Why?"

"Well, I know that a lot of heroes do, and you guys are the first heroes I've met, apart from Buffy. You don't ask friends for autographs."

"Why do you want our autographs?"

"You guys are pretty cool," Xander shrugged as he took a drink. "Batman's scary, but he's great too, you know? So are you, and so's Robin- and I owe Nightwing 'cause he saved my life last night, so he gets nothing but good will from me."

"Thanks," Cass smiled. She liked hearing that. She didn't hear it too often. "I don't think we do. I don't think Batman would like it."

"No big," Xander shrugged. "I just wanted a little memento, that's all." They sat in silence for a while longer. "So what are you doing here?" he asked her.

"Waiting," she told him. "Giles is reading his books, trying to find anything that might tell him what Dala and the Joker are up to. Batman is helping him. Anya is running the store. Robin is supposed to be contacting Gotham City, and Willow and Tara should be getting ready to cast their spell soon."

"Dawn just got back from school," Xander told her, "and I just got back from work."

"What do you do?"

"Construction. It's a good job, but when stuff like this happens... well, I was able to call in sick yesterday but I can't afford do it today too. That reminds me," he said, standing up, "we gotta do something about the DoubleMeat Palace. That's where Buffy works, and she has a shift tonight. If she doesn't make it-"

"We'll handle it," Cass told him. "Don't worry."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." They sat back down and finished their snacks. "I hate waiting," Xander muttered.

"Me too."

"I wonder if I can find Dawn's copy of the Peanuts Christmas Special," Xander muttered. "That calms me down."

"Peanuts Christmas Special?" Cass felt confused. She had never heard of that before. She knew what Christmas was, and she knew what 'Christmas Specials' were. On Christmas Eve, Dick came to Gotham to make everybody watch "It's A Wonderful Life." Cass really liked that movie. She used to feel like George Bailey before Clarence came to see him. Since she had found Batman and the others, she felt like George Bailey after Clarence came to see him.

"Yeah, you know- Snoopy, Charlie Brown, Peppermint Patty, Lucy, Schroeder, Marcy, Linus and his security blanket…" he trailed off, meaning that he must have noticed her blank expression. "Okay… Charlie Brown is the main character, and he has a dog named Snoopy. Snoopy's one of those cartoon animals that are as smart as people, but he doesn't talk. He walks around, though, and he dances- kinda like this." Xander started dancing. It was weird, but it looked like a lot of fun. Cass watched him intently, and when he started to repeat the steps she joined in. It was a lot of fun.

"Like this?" she asked, laughing.

"Just like that!" Xander laughed.

Cass saw Dawn come in, and start staring at them.

"Hey, Dawnie," he grinned. "How was school?"

"Torture. Stopping by the Magic Box didn't help. What are you two doing?"

"Can you believe that this girl never heard of Peanuts?" Xander asked. "I'm trying to fix that by teaching her how to Snoopy dance. You have the Christmas special around, right?"

"Yeah. It's with the rest of the tapes," Dawn nodded.

"Great! I'll go pop it in." Xander turned to Cass and grinned. "You're in for something special, you'll see. The animation's old-school, but old-school is the best school."

Cass grinned back. His enthusiasm was contagious, and he was really cute. He wasn't a very good fighter compared to the people she knew, but that made him even braver.

"So, uh," Dawn started, and Cass' attention went to her. "You were that girl in the alley a couple days ago?"

"Yeah," Cass nodded. "Sorry I couldn't tell you the truth. I was undercover."

"No, it's cool," Dawn said. "What's it like? Being a hero, I mean?"

(Odd question.) Cass shrugged. "It feels good," she told Dawn. "It's important, and fun, but people's lives depend on us so it's really stressful too."

"We're ready," Xander called from the living room, so Cass and Dawn went to join him.

For the next half-hour or so, Cass stared at the TV screen in delight. (Snoopy's cool) she decided.

Rack stiffened. He was in the Joker's little torture chamber, watching the Joker work. He had long since cast the spell that threw Robin even farther off balance. Something pushed against the anti-divination shield he had erected over the place. It caused him to ignore the boy's screams and the Joker's laughter. He felt himself grin as the feeling ebbed. (Company will be coming) he thought with an anticipatory grin.

Willow and Tara came out of the locator spell with a jolt. "We were being blocked," Willow scowled.

"Definitely," Tara nodded.

"But they're near," Willow went on. "I think we can beat that shield."

"Yeah, with enough time and effort-"

Willow stood up and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" Tara asked.

"One of the books at the Magic Box has to have a spell that destroys shields," Willow told her. "I want to go see what they have."

"Why don't you just use the Darkest Magick tome?" Tara asked her evenly.

Willow turned to look at her. "You know, huh?"

"Anya told me about it this morning when I went to go get the supplies," Tara confirmed. "A lot of books have teleportation spells, Willow. Why did you go to that one?"

"I've used it before," Willow told her. "I know what it's capable of."

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded.

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Willow demanded.

"Willow, I touched that book once." Tara shuddered. "I wanted a bath afterwards! I can't imagine what actually using it is like, and I don't want to know."

"Don't you think I can handle it?"

"Can you?" The words escaped Tara before she could prevent it. (Oh, Goddess, I can't believe I said that.)

"Go ahead, Tara," Willow said coldly. "Go on. I know you want to."

Tara felt a moment of indecision, but decided to go on. Keeping her mouth shut had facilitated Willow's trip into the dark once before. "It taps into the darkest energies of magic," she said slowly. "Everyone taps those energies at least once or twice in their careers. Even I have, when I made you and the others unable to see demons. But sweetie, the more you tap them the more vulnerable you become to them."

"I've only ever used them for good!" Willow protested.

"Right," Tara nodded. "You didn't use the book when you made me forget about our argument. That was all you."

Willow opened her mouth. Tara cut her off. "I know you're sorry, and I've forgiven you for that. But you did it, and I can't forget it. Willow, you know so much that it's easy for me to forget that you're-"

"A rank, arrogant amateur," Willow said coldly.

"Giles called you that, didn't he?"

Willow nodded.

"Well, I wouldn't. I was going to say that you're inexperienced in so many ways. You've come so far so quickly, and I'm so proud of you for that, but sometimes you use magic without thinking about the consequences, and you know it."

Willow looked pensive, like she was considering Tara's words. "What's your point?" she asked.

Tara's heart fell. (Not the response I was hoping for.) "The point is that when you tap into the darkness a little bit of it stays with you. That happens to everybody. It's just that each time you do it a little bit more darkness stays with you, especially when you use a facilitator like the tome. And then you've been to Rack. I've heard of what he sells," Tara shuddered. "You only went to him twice, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's too soon for him to start taking pieces of your soul, but you still have traces of him in you. You remember how you reacted when Glory sucked my brain. If something that bad ever happened again, and you went as far as you did then, all the little pieces of darkness in you will make it easier for you to just give yourself to the darkness completely. Think about it." She went to the door, and opened it. "I know a few things that I can get that will make breaking that shield easier." She left the room, mostly to give Willow time to consider her words. (I just hope she listened.)

Tara's trip to the Magic Box was brief. She knew what she needed, and getting was easy, especially with Giles and Anya around. (Well, more Giles than Anya. It's a good thing he's the main owner of this place, or I'd have had to pay for this stuff. I wouldn't mind, but Anya overcharges for a lot of this stuff.) She felt a hand touch her arm as she headed for the door.

"May I speak with you?" Batman asked.

It was 'Batman,' even though he was dressed like Matches. Nobody was in the store, but Tara got the feeling that Matches would be back in a hurry if somebody came in. "Sure," she nodded, and Matches led her to a table near the back of the main room.

"About that ritual last night, and the boy that was brought back- what happened to him?"

She was taken back by the intensity of his tone. "He wasn't that age when he died, was he?" she asked.

"No."

"He looks like he's about the age he would have been if he didn't die, doesn't he?"

"Yes."

Tara nodded. (I thought so.)

"I don't know how much you know about magic, so I'll try to keep this simple. When magics mix, they can royally screw with each other. They don't always do so but they can, and that's what happened last night. Rack's ritual mixed the magics of the Chalice, the Sword, and the Ring, and then there was my dispelling spell trying to shut it down, and then there was the spell that Willow tried. They mixed, and as near as I can tell, the Monk was brought back correctly, but the boy was aged to where he should have been if he hadn't died. Oh, and I doubt that the Sword and the Chalice were supposed to be ruined."

"But what about the boy?"

(Why did I know that was his main concern?) "I can't say for sure without actually checking him, but as near as I can tell the only thing that happened to him- besides being resurrected- was the aging, and that's it."

"So he really was alive?"

"As far as I know, he was."

"Thank you, Miss Maclay," he told her. He almost sounded relieved.

"You should get ready," Tara told him. "As soon as I get back Willow and I will be casting the spell, and I think that this one will work."

"Of course," he nodded. He looked in her direction as she left, but his mind wasn't with her. (Dick, Jason… I'm coming. I won't let anything happen to either of you. I promise.)