In the aftermath of Joker's exit, Celine plopped down in the middle of the room. She tucked her legs in and rested the back of her hands atop her knees. Though exhaustion weighed heavily, a manic sort of energy buzzed through her; no doubt courtesy of her captor. Being around him made it difficult to keep calm, though she was impressed with herself thus far.

Usually she meditated on the floor of her living room with sandalwood incense burning and a playlist running on Youtube of binaural beats or sound bytes of nature like waves crashing against a shoreline or the hums and buzzes of a jungle deep in the Amazonian. She didn't have these sounds on hand, but they were practically ingrained in her brain by now, so it wasn't too difficult to recall them.

She evened out her breathing and worked on re-centering herself, clearing her mind of all that had transpired in the time Joker had knocked her out in the church to their tense conversation regarding John.

It was tough to do. Tougher than times before. That her safety couldn't be guaranteed, that it was out of her control, burdened her with an anxiety she hadn't felt since the worst years of her alcoholism. Why now it was all suddenly coming to her, she didn't know, but she worked fiercely at processing the emotions and then letting them go. Process, let go. Process. Let go.

This was the state Aesop found her in an hour later when he unlocked the door. He watched her for a moment, not wanting to interrupt.

But he needn't wait long.

"That looks delicious," she remarked upon opening her eyes.

He smiled half-heartedly, kicking the door shut before approaching her.

"I'm guessing boss didn't bother to feed you."

Her stomach answered for her. She accepted the saran-wrapped sandwich with a grateful smile.

"Thank you," she said, tearing into the ham and swiss. "He won't be upset with you, will he?"

Aesop lowered himself to her level and sat down.

"So long as you don't say anything, I won't either. And truthfully...his personal hostages tend not to last long enough to require being fed."

"Personal hostages?" Her brows furrowed. "Does he do this often?"

Aesop suddenly looked very uncomfortable. In any other case, Celine would have let the topic drop, but considering her uncertain predicament, she wanted to be prepared. With the exception of their knife spar, Joker had been much more decent to her than she anticipated. She didn't count on this behavior lasting much longer.

"I don't want to be tortured, but if that's his plan it'd be nice to know beforehand."

Again, he seemed hesitant to divulge what was on his mind.

"Please."

His nod was tentative.

"Usually the people he takes as hostages...they're disposable leverage. Once he gets what he wants, you become expendable. Had he not taken you from the group you were kidnapped with, you'd have probably been safe. Traumatized slightly but returned all the same."

She frowned, suddenly not very hungry anymore.

"He got what he wanted," she noted. "Your compadre back. What's the point in keeping me longer than necessary?"

Aesop dropped his gaze to his lap.

"Some...some hostages he doesn't take for leverage. He takes them for his own...purposes."

"I don't understand."

His shoulders tensed up.

"He uh...believe it or not, he has a fondness for those who are mentally resilient. He sees that resilience as a challenge. If you haven't noticed he gets off on psychological domination. It's a kink of his I think. To warp you mentally so you're left only as a shell of the person you once were."

She soaked in this information, unease bubbling in her chest.

"Is that why I'm still here?"

He met her straightforward gaze, his unease much more prevalent than hers.

"I can't say for sure...he doesn't ever let in anyone else on his plans. But...you are his type."

She nodded, drawing her knees up and wrapping both arms around them.

"How does he break them?"

"It varies on the person. He's scary good at reading people. I've watched him do it to new guys before. He finds their weaknesses and uses it against them. He gets into your head until you're convinced he knows you better than you do. And then he plays with you until he gets bored."

"And then what happens?"

His eyes shot back to his lap.

"More often than not, he kills them. Sometimes, they kill themselves. If they're important like a lawyer or police officer, he lets them go so they can serve as his inside people. All depends on his mood."

"Wonderful," she murmured. "What happens if you endure?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "No one ever has."

She let her chin fall to the v between her knees.

Aesop glanced at her from beneath his lashes. He felt for the girl, he really, really did. It was a cruel twist of fate that such a compassionate and thoughtful person should find themselves in the clutches of his boss. Not that his other victims lacked these traits but having interacted with Celine and getting a real sense of what sort of individual existed within, it filled him with a very tangible dread to see what Joker had planned.

"Is John okay?"

He cocked his head.

"John?"

"Dr. Crane. Joker sorta got a little...stab happy on him."

"Oh, yeah Crow's fine. Not the first time he's been put through the ringer. But they've been on good terms with each other for awhile now, so I don't get what he did this time around to deserve it."

She was just as confused but chose to not pay it any more attention than needed.

"You don't happen to know if Batman is looking for me, do you?"

"Probably. But we've been holed up here for almost two years and he's yet to find us. I wouldn't get your hopes up."

He felt guilty at voicing this but didn't want to provide her with any false hope.

She was silent for a long moment, contemplating something he couldn't figure out. He didn't mind sitting with her. Might as well have it be him than his boss.

"I don't want to die here, Aesop," she finally said, meeting his eyes. "I also don't intend to give in or let him manipulate me. It's all a game to him. I'm choosing not to participate. This...will most likely end in my death."

He nodded.

"I'm at peace with my mistakes," she continued. "I'm at peace with my flaws. There isn't anything he can say to me that I haven't said or thought to myself in my lowest moments. I'd like to think he can't surprise me, but he isn't like anyone I've ever encountered."

Her gaze scorched him.

"I need your help, Aesop."

"I can't," he responded. "I'm sorry, but I can't. If you escape, he'll know I helped you. And...you might be at ease with dying, but I'm not."

Her nod was understanding, which only amplified his guilt.

"Okay then." She gave him the bunched-up saran wrap. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be left alone."

It was the last thing he wished to do but he found himself helpless in indulging her.

Before he reached the door, he turned to her.

"I am sorry."

Her smile was slow and somber.

"I know you are."

He exited the room and locked it, fighting the urge to heave. When he reached the makeshift kitchen, he tossed the wrap in the garbage and rested his forearms on the counter, two hands running through his hair. He massaged his temples until he was dizzy.

A hand struck the back of his shoulder, causing him to jump.

"Acey my boy," Joker greeted. "Spared a little visit to our hostage I hear."

"I-yeah." He fought hard not to appear as nervous as he felt.

"Mmm, smart not to lie about it." His grip tightened. "We uh...we remembered t-a keep our hands and feet to ourselves?"

His face paled.

"Of course, boss. She's yours."

Joker cocked his head. He released him and brought a blade up to his bottom lip, tapping it a few times.

"I uh...like that," he admitted, gaze straying upward. "Mine."

Aesop tried to gauge the expression on Joker's face. It wasn't one he'd ever worn in his presence, which made it tough to give a name to.

"It must kill you," Joker said suddenly, training his gaze on him. "That she'll be my guinea pig for the duuuration of her stay."

He didn't answer immediately, choosing his words wisely.

"I wouldn't underestimate her. She's tougher than she looks."

"You saying I can't get inside her pretty little head?"

His shrug was half-hearted.

"You can try."

Joker's cackle was instantaneous.

"Oooh hoo hoo she's got you wrapped around her finger doesn't she? Panting like a schoolboy in love."

He reddened.

"I-I'm not."

"Salivating like a bitch, eager to hear more compliments so you can get your dick up."

Aesop hung his head. He didn't trust himself not to say something that wouldn't end in his death.

"Aw, struck a nerve have we?" All amusement vanished from Joker's expression. "You ever feed her without my permission again it's the last thing you'll do, got it?"

He longed to argue but was too afraid of the consequences.

"Got it."

"Good." He tilted his head in the opposite direction. "How's she uh holding up?"

"In decent spirits, all things considering."

"Well let's just see if we can't change that."

He turned and sauntered away, humming a tune under his breath.

Celine had just placed her head down atop her hands, aiming for a bit of sleep when a thud sounded throughout the room. Her eyebrows shot together. The thud repeated itself, shaking the boarded-up window. She scrambled up and staggered toward it.

The second she reached the boards, the noises ceased.

"Celine?" a gruff voice called.

Her eyes widened.

"Bruce?"

"I need you to step back."

She did so, heart nearly skipping a beat. What fantastic timing, she thought.

Truth be told, her conversation with Aesop had alarmed her more than she wanted to admit. She didn't care to be another Gotham crime statistic. Another hostage discarded by an apathetic madman; freewill hijacked and malformed. She had worked too hard to get to a point in her life where being present in her existence was truly worth it. Life was fleeting, but amazing once you relearned how to appreciate it. She wanted more than anything to continue living it, undisturbed.

She back peddled until she was nearly touching the wall.

Seconds later and the wood boarding up the windows splintered into hundreds of pieces with a teeth-rattling boom! Smoke clouded the room, forcing her to put an arm over her mouth to prevent inhalation.

Just as she made to step forward, the door knob began to jiggle.

"Shit," she mumbled, dashing to the window.

It was thankfully wide enough for her to crawl out of, but night was upon Gotham and Batman was nowhere to be found. A quick glance down made her stomach drop. She was at least five stories high with no means of getting out without jumping.

"Celineeee."

The knob twisted.

She shakily climbed onto the ledge, fingers gripping onto the crumbling brick. The wind whipped her hair. She peered through the strands, catching a black movement out of the corner of her eye below. And then again.

"Now uh what do we have here?"

She turned to see Joker at the entryway. His steps toward her were slow and cautious.

"Last time I ah checked, you're not a birdy. So uh why don't ya hop on down before you get hurt."

She would do no such thing. Maybe she really was crazy, but she much preferred her chances outside the window than inside.

"Oh I can see that pretty little brain of yours runnin'." His voice descended into a menacing murmur. "I'm gonna give ya to the count of three. One."

They continued staring at each other.

"Twooo," he counted with a little more force, halfway to her.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Now or never, she thought.

"Three," she finished for him.

Without hesitation, she turned and jumped.

A scream tried to escape her, but the rapid descent stifled it. Her eyes swung shut and just as she wondered if she hadn't completely misinterpreted the signals, something solid barreled into her. Both eyes swung open as arms secured her into a heavily-padded body.

"Oh thank god," she whispered, gazing up at Batman.

He had strung a batarang to the roof of the building with a sturdy nylon rope. It worked at halting their descent until she could feel ground beneath her feet once more.

"We have to get out of here."

He sliced through the rope.

"You're not hearing any complaints from me."

She thought he would release her so she could run, but his arms remained wrapped around her. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if her legs would even work at this point; so, she was content to curl them around his waist and let him sprint them as far away from the building as possible.

They had just reached the Batmobile when gunfire rang out, a few bullets whizzing by her head.

Bruce threw open the passenger door and hastily shoved her in, slamming the door after her.

He was in the driver's seat in seconds, gunning the pedal like a...well...bat out of hell.

They didn't speak until the building was erased from view.

"Are you okay?"

She didn't trust herself to speak without stuttering.

"Yeah," she breathed out, glancing at him. "Thanks Bruce. I...was really hoping you would show up."

Neither acknowledged what would have happened if he hadn't.

"How'd you know where I was?"

He reduced his speed slightly as they entered the outskirts of the city. Which really wasn't saying much considering Bruce drove like Evil Knievel on coke.

"Crane contacted me," he said, sparing her a glance. "We made an agreement. I wait twenty-four hours before pursuing him in exchange for your location."

She wanted to laugh, wishing she could have bore witness to that conversation. She also made a mental note to thank John next time she saw him. That he pulled through for her in such a pivotal moment filled her with unending gratitude.

"Did he hurt you?"

This was asked tentatively, as if he were hesitant of the answer.

"Slashed my arm, broke my nose, got a little cut on my neck. Nothing I won't recover from. He had one of his men patch me up."

Bruce's head swung to her.

"Jesus watch the road!" she yelped as they narrowly clipped another vehicle.

"He let you see a doctor?"

"Yes?"

His gaze returned ahead.

"It was just so he didn't kill me prematurely," she explained. "Aesop told me he likes it when his hostages resist. Gets off on trying to break them."

"Aesop?"

"He's uh...one of Joker's men. But he wasn't always. He owned an art gallery near the apartment I lived in at the time. He was...as good as he was capable of being to me."

Bruce was silent for a long time. She kept her gaze trained out the window, only now processing that her ordeal was finally over.

When he veered off the expressway and onto a side street, Celine turned to him.

"I live in the other direction."

"I'm not taking you home. For the time being, I want you to stay with me."

She arched a brow.

"Your apartment will be crawling with reporters. Everyone wants to know why he released the other hostages but kept you. It'll take some time for things to die down."

She understood the logic of this. The last thing she wanted was to see her face plastered on every major newspaper. When the media was intrigued by someone, they went after them like bloodhounds. She appreciated Bruce's gesture, though upon second thought, wondered if there wasn't more to his kindness.

"Are you worried Joker is going to try kidnapping me again?"

Bruce's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"He won't," she insisted. "I was just a bit of fun. Beyond that, I'm worthless to him. He's got much bigger fish to fry."

When he didn't immediately answer, she repeated his name.

"Crane," he sounded out, "was concerned by Joker's behavior toward you."

"How do you mean?"

He glanced at her.

"Did he try to make any...sexual...advances?"

She didn't understand where his line of questioning was coming from.

"Yes, but nothing that was meant seriously. He was just trying to get under my skin. I tolerated it so he wouldn't kill me."

Bruce didn't say anything else, which drew her ire.

"I endured what I had to to stay alive," she reaffirmed. "If you or John for a second think there was something between us-."

"I don't," he answered just as sharply. "I know you better than that. But from what Crane observed, he thinks Joker has taken a liking to you. That he didn't do worse to you and allowed you to receive medical care...these are things that don't sit well with me. Not because I'm ungrateful to see you alive and in one piece, but because I worry this is reflective of something more...troubling."

"Like what?" She gestured with her hands, baffled by his words. "Bruce when I first woke up in the room you found me in, he had me fight him to the death with a switchblade. He nearly killed me. He wanted to kill me."

"And you stopped him?"

She grew quiet, peering ahead.

"I got the upperhand at one point, but he kept baiting me to kill him. I didn't want to be provoked into it, so I uh...tickled him instead."

"You...tickled him?"

She swallowed loud enough to hear it ringing in her ears. Though she and Bruce were butting heads right now, she again was thankful she didn't have to bulldoze her way through reporters and get hassled about her time in captivity. She could only imagine what sort of uproar she'd cause if she told the truth.

"Yeah," she nearly whispered.

She could feel the heat from Bruce's gaze, but refused to meet it.

"What happened after that?"

"He ah...managed to break free and get on top. Then he...tickled me back."

Her eyes squeezed shut. Why was recounting these events embarrassing her so much? At the time, she barely gave her actions any thought. But now it was like confessing sins to a judge and jury.

Definitely going to omit the kissing him part, she thought meekly.

"And after that?"

"I passed out from a lack of oxygen I think."

"And that's all he did? Just tickle you?"

She looked down at her lap.

"He uh...may have dry humped me a little."

The tension in the vehicle was suffocating.

In the three years she had known Bruce Wayne, they had never been at such odds before. He had been the only investor to take the concept for her app seriously and commend her for its necessity. It didn't take much persuasion for him to hop on board and aid her with connections, namely coding and software experts who were a little more skilled than her.

They had always shared an easy, light-hearted friendship, taking to dining out a handful of times a month to catch up. Never anywhere luxurious, she wasn't keen on fancy establishments where she needed to squeeze into tight and revealing dresses just to get gawked at because of who her friend was. Bars and diners were her scene, and she suspected Bruce appreciated this as it allowed him freedom from the playboy billionaire persona he so often had to maintain. He even admitted once that upon their initial meeting, she threw him off by treating him like a human being instead of his status and name. That alone won her his support.

Furthermore, late night calls and texts to each other throughout the week wasn't uncommon either. Especially after she had put it together that he was Batman. He slept often throughout the day and though he did well to hide it when they met for a meal, she would note the stray scrape or bruise he hadn't concealed well enough. Plus, the man was fit as a heavyweight boxer, but sometimes hobbled or needed to catch his breath for a moment. Unless the women he took home liked to beat the living shit out of him, she suspected there was something he wasn't telling her.

Similarly, while Gotham was content with labeling him an extravagant, womanizing piggy bank on legs, he was a surprisingly empathetic person with a deep sense of welfare for others. His immediate investment into her cause was only but one examples of this.

They were dining on sushi in the Little Tokyo district of Gotham when she peeked up at him and stated, "You're Batman, aren't you?"

He had dropped his chopsticks and laughed nervously at her, but she pinned him in place with such an unrelenting stare that he had no choice but to awkwardly mumble "Yeah" a few seconds later.

Content with the answer, she'd went back to eating, mentioning nothing further of his real identity. But her texts to him after that day always inquired about his physical health, especially when the likes of Scarecrow and Joker were busy wreaking havoc.

"Did all of this happen before or after Crane tried to get you back?"

"Before," she mumbled, squinting at nothing in particular as they entered a sparse, residential area. "I know it sounds bad, but Aesop told me it's what he does. Tries to get into the minds of his victims. You better than anyone should know. That's all it was, Bruce. He was looking for a way in and I wouldn't give it to him."

"That's what worries me. Joker is not one to leave alone someone who can resist his influence. And knowing you as well as I do..."

When he didn't finish this line of thought, she turned to him.

"Yes?"

He took his time composing a response.

"You can be just as unpredictable. It's one of the things that draws me to you. You keep me on my toes...in a necessary way. Joker's unpredictability isn't as pure-intentioned as yours. It comes from a place of deep loathing for society and those a part of it. When I heard every hostage had been returned but you, I knew he would recognize in you the same thing in him. And Crane only confirmed my suspicions. You have his attention whether you wanted it or not."

She soaked in his words, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I can read people pretty well and yeah...in an odd way we did get along with each other, but I just...I don't see it. He's a domestic terrorist bent on causing as much anarchy as possible. His philosophy on life is crystal clear. Mine is the polar opposite. If anything, he's probably glad not to have my sentimental butt around anymore."

Bruce didn't look as convinced, but some of the tension gradually seeped from him.

"You don't see it," he replied, glancing at her. "You're so comfortable in your own skin that you sometimes don't see how attractive others find it."

"Speaking from experience?" she teased.

His lips briefly quirked up.

"I hear you Bruce, I do," she followed up. "But I have more important things to focus on than whether Joker's got a hard-on for me or not. For your peace of mind, I'll get a weapon of some kind so I'm not an easy target just in case he does try something. But I'm not staying with you longer than a week. I have a new psychologist to find since Dr. Frtiz retired and Taj told me a week ago that I may have to switch software programs to accommodate the growing user base. This experience has only reconfirmed that I need to live each day as if it's my last. No one is going to get in the way of that. Least of all a failed party clown."

This time, Bruce didn't hold back his smile.

"It's good to have you back, Celine."

"Good to be back, Bruce."

Miles behind them and all hell was breaking loose.

Joker's men were scurrying in a hundred different directions, attempting to avoid the spray of bullets from his gun. Three had already been fatally shot, two were tending to their wounds, and the remaining men worked on finding a decent enough hiding spot until their boss's tirade was over.

Aesop was currently holed up inside the kitchen cabinet under the sink, watching through a crack in the door as Joker managed to shoot one of the newer recruits, clean through the skull.

"Why do I pay you dumb bastards anything at all?" he roared, twirling around and aiming a shot at a man trembling behind a couch, just barely missing him. "I uh don't ask for much. Keep the Bat away and make sure the hostage doesn't-a...escape. So simple an invalid could do it. Maybe I oughta hire them instead of you useless shits!"

The man behind the couch tried scampering backwards, but could do nothing against a bullet tearing through his throat. He sputtered out some blood, clutching his neck weakly. Joker hurled the gun at him, the handle striking him square in the forehead. The man dropped dead a second later.

"Idiots," he growled, running a hand through his hair. "To those of you uh still alive 'n kicking, this building is going bye-bye in ten. So either get your asses in the vans or get blown to smithereens. I could fucking care less."

He stomped out of the room with a few unintelligible grunts. Morris was waiting for him outside in the driver's seat of one of the vans. He swung open the passenger seat and hopped inside, slamming the door shut hard enough to startle the bomb constructor.

"Let's fucking roll."

Morris didn't think twice.

The ride to their new hideout was a long one. Every now and again, Joker's left leg would start bouncing and Morris would catch half-coherent obscenities coming from under his breath as he glared out the window. He couldn't be sure what pissed his boss off the most. The fact that they had to destroy what had been a lucrative place of operation or the fact that Batman managed to nab the hostage with relatively little effort.

"Crazy little bitch," Joker murmured, pressing his cheek into the window and closing his eyes. "I'll chain her to my fucking bed next time."

Not a minute later and Joker was rocking back and forth, gasps of laughter flying out of him. Morris didn't know what prompted it, only that he preferred it to his earlier mood.

"You gonna get the girl back?" he dared to ask when the laughter died down.

Joker threw a foot over his thigh, leaning back in the seat.

"Eventually," he said. "Gotta let things play out. She'll be trickier to catch a second time."

Morris nodded.

"Seth told me," he added on, "that he trailed Scarecrow like you asked. He and the Batman met. Probably how he knew where she was."

"I'll deal with Crow later," he decided. "Need to think of a suitable enough punishment."

"Use the girl to hurt him," Morris offered. "He clearly's got a thing for her if he's willing to risk making you an enemy."

Joker's jaw tightened. What was it about her that had men in his line of work catering to her like moonstruck buffoons? She wasn't anything to look twice at. Worse yet, she was a living, breathing personification of good. That people like Crow and Ace went out of their way to accommodate her incensed him most of all. They were villains. Not good men. She shouldn't have made it this far in life, much less having procured the allies she had.

Then again, here he was, brain running marathons around her. She had drawn him to her the minute their eyes met in the basement of that church. Though he brushed it off at the time, he remembered thinking there was something unusual about her. A form of self-awareness he seldom encountered. Their knife spar proved that she could roll with whatever he threw at her. It also proved he could still be surprised by people, which was a rarity in its own.

It felt, dare he say it...refreshing. To not know what she would say or do next. And though he loathed her unrelenting commitment to morality, remove this one trait and she would be no better than any other Gotham citizen claiming to be good and decent. She practiced what she preached and begrudgingly, he had to commend her for it. She knew who she was and what her convictions were.

It would prove more challenging to compromise her mental state than initially thought, but he wasn't even sure he wanted to anymore. She was a unique little rabbit who had been hopping under his nose all this time. Now that she was on his radar, she would never be able to evade detection again.

"Run, rabbit run," he crooned softly, licking at his scars. "Dig that hole, forget the sun. And when at last the work is done. Don't sit down, it's time to dig another one."

Another fit of giggles rocked through him. Morris peeked at him before returning his eyes to the road; wholly content not to know what was going on in his boss's head.

Joker is probably a little OOC in this chapter because of his altering feelings regarding Celine. But honestly...home boy sees the world for what it is and seeks to upend societal norms. Finally having met someone so similar to him...I think he would think it's a waste to taint someone so strong. He might try, but it will only be halfhearted. He might just be looking for someone to understand him, who knows. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and story alerted this, you guys help make this story worth writing.

On a side note, Joker's last lines in this chapter are lyrics from the Pink Floyd song "Breathe".