The man who knocked on door 3S was not one she recalled meeting. One glance at his gaunt-like features – namely the sunken in cheeks and bony body – and she knew he was a heroin addict. From the jitteriness of his movements, she gathered he'd gotten his fix recently. Whether that would aid her or not, only time would tell.

Ed did little to hide his displeasure, muttering under his breath something she couldn't make out.

Before she left, she turned to the doctor and mumbled a barely audible 'thank you'. Uncharacteristic or not, gratitude was something difficult to banish from her person. The man had bandaged her up on more than one occasion. She thought she owed him that much at least.

The addict was practically hopping through the hallways and down the staircase, pausing every so often for her to catch up, drumming his fingers against his body as he did so. She was half-tempted to grab the pistol he so openly displayed inside his waistband but figured that might be tipping her hand a little early.

Four flights of stairs and three left turns later they were entering an expansive wine cellar that was so congested with dust she had to cough a few times to clear out her lungs.

Whatever wine that'd been stored on the countless racks had long ago been looted or smashed. A hint of wet, moldy grapes lingered in the air. Though most of the cellar was shrouded in darkness, the further in they went, the brighter it got. A massive, brick wall sat at the opposite end of the cellar with two fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above. The wall held a door, but someone was standing guard at it.

"Howie," her companion greeted, sniffing twice, "new recruit for you. Look what Gil did!"

He grabbed her right hand and lifted it to show him.

"Sliced his pinky clean off. Glad I kept my mouth shut during orientation. Ahahahaaha."

The guard – Howie – joined in on the laughter, though it sounded a lot more solemn that the addicts'.

"Show us through, show us through," he repeated with a wave of his hands before turning to her. "Uh…what's the name?"

"Lonnie."

"Lonnie's gotta learn the ropes. Can't be slacking on the training, boss man will be pissed."

She briefly met Howie's eyes. Recognition dawned on her. He'd been the one to ask her in the church why some people were lucky enough to experience miracles and others weren't.

If Howie was bothered by her staring, he didn't show it. He stepped aside to let them through.

When the addict opened the door, all the air momentarily escaped Celine's lungs.

It was as if she was viewing the room through the lens of Joker's camcorder. The brick was faded and worn; untouched by renovation. Another fluorescent light buzzed from the ceiling, casting everyone inside under an artificial luminescence. What she had been wrong on was the boarded-up window. There weren't any in the room, period; providing an added layer of claustrophobia.

The room itself must have served as an added extension to the initial wine cellar. It was approximately the size of her high school gym and extremely chilly.

As the addict spoke, Celine concentrated her gaze on the right corner of the room. Just as Joker had broadcasted to Gotham, there, huddled and seated, blind-folded and gagged, were the sixty-some kids everyone was tearing the city apart trying to find.

On the left side of the room were three more of Joker's men, each equipped with a pistol, though not aiming at anyone in particular, which relieved her some. They studied her boredly, one going so far as to yawn into his palm. They'd probably not moved from their position for hours.

She felt something being shoved into her stomach by the addict. When she looked down it was the same gun she'd been observing on the men.

"If any of them try something," the addict said, "shoot them in the kneecap."

She nodded, accepting the gun and slipping it into the back of her sweats.

"I'm surprised there aren't more of us," she mentioned, surveying the room.

"The rest are either keeping guard outside or out in the scrap yard with boss. I guess Scarecrow's come out of hiding and he's leaving those staying behind, instructions on what to do while he's away."

"That must be very exciting for Jo-I mean boss."

The word felt foreign to say, but she'd use the title to avoid singling herself out.

"He said it's like Christmas came early."

She had planned to say something else, but a high-pitched whistle interrupted her. The addict opened the door to the room and peered out at the entrance to the cellar.

Celine peeked around his shoulder and immediately backed up a few steps. One hand shot to her hair and brushed a few locks over her face. She could just barely see through them.

Her heart pumped madly as Joker's footsteps bounced off the walls of the cellar. She made sure to keep herself obscured behind the addict, gripping her gun tight to prevent her hand from shaking.

When Joker's footsteps finally stopped, she risked a glance around the addict's shoulder.

It felt surreal viewing him from her position. He had just been inside her apartment a couple of days ago, curled up against her. Docile and sleepy. Was he really the same man standing before her, immaculately clad in his signature purple coat and leather gloves, wearing the sort of smile that instilled dread?

"Howie," he greeted, startling her out of her observation as he clamped a hand on the guard's shoulder, "saddle up and look alive! Ace here's gonna take over for ya. 'M gonna need my best shooters with me to capture the Crow."

Her heart nearly dropped out of her chest upon witnessing Aesop step up to Joker's side. His features were stony and grave; a complete contradiction to how he behaved when it was just the two of them conversing.

She hung her head down and side-stepped back behind the addict. An urge pestered her to get Aesop's attention, but she ignored it. She just needed to be a little more patient.

Joker's next words were aimed at the addict in front of her. The tone in which he spoke chilled her.

"And what uh-what'd I tell ya about using on the job?"

The addict's shoulders stiffened. If silence could crush, they would all be fine dust on the floor.

"I wasn't boss, I swea-."

A bullet ripped into his throat. Clutching feebly at the wound, he gurgled and choked back a cry before dropping to the ground. His body continued to convulse as he bled out.

Some of the children must have gathered what had happened, for their voices grew more hysterical behind their gags.

Joker lowered his gun and cracked his neck.

"That's what I get for being such a generous guy," he lamented, drawing his gaze upward. "And uh whoooo've we got here?"

She didn't remove her eyes from the addict's dead body. Something told her all Joker needed was one close look and he'd know.

"New recruit," Howie informed above her. "First night."

His whistle was long and drawn out. Mercifully, he remained in his spot, studying her bruised face.

"Musta really struck a nerve with Gil, eh? No hard feelings, champ, he's uh…picky anymore on who works for me. Can't say it doesn't make a guy feel appreciated."

She didn't speak, which did little to damper Joker's mood.

"Ace," he turned to the man, "hold the fort down for me, will ya? If uh anything unforeseen happens, handle it at your own discretion."

Aesop nodded.

"Sure thing, boss."

Joker departed with Howie in tow. She released a held-in breath as they clambered up the stairs.

"Boss won't be more than an hour," Aesop stated for everyone to hear. "If I catch any of you slacking while he's gone, consider your position terminated."

Her eyes widened slightly at the words. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Could he really kill someone on the spot without batting an eye?

Probably. He's worked for Joker how long? No one employed by him has clean hands.

"New guy." She looked up. "C'mere."

She did so, following him out of the room. Beneath the harsh fluorescent lighting Aesop took the time to observe her better.

"Got a name?" he asked, quieter so the kids wouldn't overhear.

"Lonnie," she answered, making eye contact with him, curious to see how long she could maintain her façade. "You?"

"You can call me Ace." He was studying the bruises blossoming around her cheeks and jawline. "How much pain you in? I can't have you distracted from your shift."

"Ed snuck me painkillers," she divulged. "It's bearable."

He nodded, looking past her.

"Job is self-explanatory," he said. "Watch them, make sure they don't do something stupid. If they do, you're welcome to wound them. Wound, don't kill. Otherwise, this'll be your last night alive. Boss's directions are to be adhered to without question, got it?"

"Got it," she murmured.

Good grief I've lost count of the times he's looked me in the eyes. Either he's blind or I really look that awful.

"Um…we're just gonna leave that guy he killed in there?" she asked tentatively.

Aesop shrugged.

"Boss never said to take the body out."

Her nose crinkled at this. His body was probably beginning to decompose. It would not be smelling pretty in there soon.

"Now get back in there." He gestured at the room with his head. "Knock if you need a piss break."

Her feet remained firmly planted in her spot.

"You fucking deaf?" Aesop snapped. "Get movin'."

She continued staring at him, willing him to recognize her without her having to say something.

Frustrated at her lack of taking direction, Aesop shot out his arm and backhanded her across the cheek, reigniting the throbbing in her bruised flesh.

"Ow! Christ, Aesop, am I going to have to spell it out for you?"

She didn't bother disguising her voice.

Aesop stilled, all aggression vacating his body. Swiftly, he grasped her by the chin and tilted her head up, pulling her toward him.

"Celine?" he whispered.

His wide-eyed expression would have been comical if not for how painful his strike had been.

She massaged the area he'd hit her.

"In the flesh. You are not a very patient co-worker by the way."

He scanned her from head to toe before dropping his hand and hustling to the door behind her.

"You guys hang tight, I'm going to go over a few ground rules with the recruit," he told the three guards inside the room.

He hastily shut the door and turned to her. Now, he was looking more like the Aesop she knew.

"You-you're actually here," he stuttered out, shaking his head. "I thought-I knew something was up with your questions. But I didn't think you'd actually-."

His eyes grew wider. Within seconds he was in front of her, cradling the hand that clasped her cheek.

"Fuck, I am so sorry," he blurted. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I didn't think it'd take you so long to recognize me," she admitted.

He again shook his head. His hand suddenly tightened on hers.

"Gil did this?"

She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"Oh sweetheart…"

He gently took her bandaged hand, eyes falling to the missing digit on it.

His expression made her want to cry. Very few people had ever gazed at her so compassionately. She let him pull her in for a tight hug, one of his hands resting on her back to stroke it.

"I thought Joker had control issues," she mumbled against his chest. "Gil is worse. But I get why Joker leaves the hiring to him. He makes sure everyone is too scared shitless to step out of line."

He rested his cheek atop her head, slowing his movements.

"He is worse," Aesop agreed. "I'm sorry you had to personally experience just how much. Are you alright?"

She pulled back from him to look up.

"As alright as I'm capable of being, given the circumstances. I was on the verge of shitting myself when Joker came down with you. I'd um…had hoped he was on his way to John's location."

His eyebrows rose.

"You guys planned that?"

"Yeah. John is going to use his serum on them, so that hopefully buys me some time."

Aesop seemed perplexed.

"You're fine with Scarecrow using his toxin on Joker?"

His confusion made her frown.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She could tell he was debating whether to say what was on his mind or not.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she repeated.

"Well…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just thought you two…he and you…you and him…"

Her sigh erupted from deep in her belly.

"He's made Gotham implode in on itself and threatened to execute a bunch of innocent kids if his demand isn't met. He deserves to feel every bit as much fear as those council members are feeling the longer their kids are withheld from them. It's a no-brainer."

Aesop grimaced.

"You're right." His shoulders slumped. "I guess I was mistaken in thinking you were a good influence on him."

"You were." She didn't care to linger on this train of thought longer than needed. "Is the bus driver still alive?"

Aesop's grimace deepened.

"Killed shortly after he got them here. Body was dumped in a nearby river."

"Shit." She closed her eyes and ran her left hand through her hair. "You don't happen to know if the keys to the bus were on him, do you?"

Aesop surprised her by smiling and crossing his arms.

"You know you really did make me suspicious with asking about Gil and if the bus was still here. I didn't know what your plan was, only that you were trying to be proactive in some way. Before the body was disposed of, I uh-."

He reached into the front of his jeans' pocket and withdrew a metal ring with two keys on it.

"-I took them."

Her mouth dropped open. Slowly, she extended her hand. Aesop set them in her palm.

"I-." She wrapped her fingers around the keys. "I have to get those kids on the bus before Joker returns."

She gauged his expression, a part of her fearing he'd not allow it. After all, he appeared to be in charge until Joker returned. There was no doubt he'd be killed for letting them escape.

"I know you do," he said. "And you're going to need my help doing it."

"Not if it puts your life on the line."

He shook his head, scratching at his sideburns.

"I don't know what you've done to me, but I've not been the same since meeting you." His smile was sad. "There's a voice I stifled long ago that helped me determine right from wrong. I thought I had snubbed it out of existence. Turns out it was just waiting for someone like you to give it back its strength."

She was touched by this admission.

"I was guarding this door last night," he went on, "and I got to thinking…say that the two days pass and the councilmen are still alive. What then? Am I at peace with standing by while Joker kills those kids? Can I sleep at night if he asked me to help? And I don't know…it was like finally reaching a long overdue epiphany. I'm not yet a monster…if I stay by Joker's side and he harms them…I will be. There won't be going back from it."

He blew out a deep breath, nodding to himself.

"I'm going to help you do the right thing because…I won't be able to live with myself if I don't. Though…I am going to need a favor."

"Anything," she answered, taking a step toward him. "Name it and it's yours."

"You're friends with Bruce Wayne, who has powerful connections." He shifted in place. "Joker won't take my desertion lightly. He will want to make an example out of me. If it's at all possible for him to…I don't know…get me in contact with someone from witness protection…I'd rest a little easier."

"I will do everything in my power to ensure you're protected," she promised. "Are…not that I'm ungrateful…but are you sure you want to go through with this? I don't want to make you feel like you're obliged to me in any way."

His smile was crooked.

"Look at you," he said, scanning her up and down. "You put yourself through hell to be here…all for the sake of doing the right thing. What's my excuse?"

She mimicked his smile, caught between a sudden desire to cry and a persistent need to wrap Aesop up in her arms and never let go.

"Thank you," she settled on, remembering time was of the essence. "So…any ideas on how we're going to go about this?"

His smile widened.

"Oh yes. Like I said, I suspected you had something up your sleeve. I've got something up mine too."

x_X_x_X_x

John released a stream of curses under his breath. It had all been going so beautifully.

Like a lamb being led to slaughter, he'd managed to lure Joker and fifteen of his goons deep into the empty warehouse just a mile north of Celine's location. The occasional scampering rat was his only companion. His breathing had spiked watching them trickle in from a metal stairway above them. He was giddy with anticipation, having to restrain his right hand from tossing his newest serum prematurely.

Joker located him first and went on and on and on (and on) about what he planned to do to him as punishment for his alleged betrayal. John had tuned out most of the yammering until the clown finally ran out of threats to administer.

"If we're quite finished," he'd said, standing, "you may be interested to learn that I've discovered the Bat Man's real identity. If you swear upon a truce, I'm more than willing to share."

He wasn't sure if Joker fully believed him, but he was apparently curious enough to agree to the truce. A truce John didn't think genuine but didn't mind so much because even if it was real, inevitably, they'd end up at each other's throats again. Such was the nature of their relationship.

"And uh pray tell, who is the Bat Man?" Joker inquired, eyes glowing in anticipation.

"Bruce Wayne," he revealed loud enough for the answer to echo off the walls.

A few of his men chuckled at this. Joker wasn't one of them. He seemed contemplative.

Personally, John had no clue if he was right or not. He'd given it some serious thought after Celine had woven him into her plan. She spent an obscene amount of time with the playboy, which got on his nerves, but he never let on as he didn't want to destroy the only meaningful friendship he'd formed.

That being said it wasn't like Celine to waste her energy on shallow, arrogant, ungrateful people. Which meant there was something about Bruce Wayne he wasn't seeing. Some evidence of goodness that drew Celine to him. Sure, it could have been gratitude on her end for his investment into her app. But if it was gratitude alone, they wouldn't be spending nearly as much time together as they did, taking to partaking in remedial things like eating out or embarking on a stroll around Gotham.

Was Bruce Wayne Batman? John couldn't be sure. But he planned to find out the next time he saw Celine. He knew her expressions like the back of his hand. She wouldn't be able to keep the truth from him for long.

At some point one of Joker's men got a little trigger happy and took a shot in his direction. The bullet grazed his shoulder. When he looked back at them, it was with a manic grin.

There was little they could do as he pulled the pin from the cannister and tossed it at them. Just as quickly he pulled on his mask to prevent inhalation.

The screams were magnificent to behold. The sweetest orchestra to his ears. Gun shots rang out not shortly after. Most were aiming at each other, but he was delighted to see two had ended up taking their own lives. As the toxin seeped in, he began to take notes in a pocket-sized notebook he'd brought with him.

His amusement faded somewhat upon noticing Joker cradling his stomach on the ground as his men picked each other off one by one. From his angle, it looked like his shoulders were shaking.

Intrigued and frustrated by the reaction, John ambled down the stairs. By this point, every one of his men were either dead, or dying; bodies riddled with bullets.

He knelt next to Joker, cocking his head to the side. Ignoring the shrieks of those still living, John began to write.

Subject's symptom atypical- delirious laughter.
Similar to Celine's reaction when testing Batch No. #11.

It had been the second to last serum before his then perfected version. It had also been the first time Celine hadn't reacted with fear. He had never told her this before, but his first reaction upon witnessing her banshee-like laughter was concern that he might have accidentally driven her insane.

"Oooh hee hee ha ha," Joker wheezed, clutching his ribs and pounding a fist on the floor. "This here's a good one, Doc. Gimme more, gimme more!"

John ran a hand through his hair and huffed out a sigh.

"Are you capable of having a normal reaction to anything at all?"

Joker continued giggling, shifting on to his side so he could observe John. His pupils were blown up and tears had involuntary leaked from the corners of his eyes, smudging some of his paint.

"Nooooooope," he boasted. "Must ah…must kill ya to work so hard, so diligently, just to fail when it's time t'a perform. There's ah…there's pills I could recommend for ya."

John gritted his teeth. He took his work very seriously and unfortunately the clown knew exactly what to say to get under his skin.

"It must kill you to know you will never be good enough for Celine Harlow," John diverted coolly. "Neither will I, but at least I've accepted it. You are in denial. In case it has slipped your mind, I will remind you. She would not choose you if you were the last soul on this planet. She would not choose you if it meant bringing world peace. She would not choose you-."

Joker attempted to grab at him, features contorted into a snarl. John backed away a few feet, delighted at the response.

"You are far more transparent than you think," he continued from above, grinning beneath his mask. "I know what you're hoping for. If she can love and accept someone like me, why not someone like you too, right? You've become obsessed with the possibility that she could overlook how many people you've killed. That she could overlook the violent outbursts and sadistic tendencies. That she could overlook your potential execution of a group of children. It's a romantic fancy, but unrealistic. Celine Harlow belongs to the Bruce Waynes of the world. Whomever she ends up with will be better than you. In all the ways she deserves. There's no point in deceiving yourself any further. I suggest, for your own wellbeing, you accept it and leave her be."

He could see Joker was barely restraining the urge to lunge out at him. His whole body shook with barely-suppressed rage. His bottom lip was bleeding from the grip his teeth had on it.

From a scan of his expression, John suspected he'd been fairly accurate in his assessment. He allowed surprise to show beneath his mask. His attachment to Celine was far more complex than he'd previously diagnosed. Rather than dissuading Joker, however, John got the distinct impression he'd only re-strengthened Joker's focus on her. It was probably best to change the topic before he made things worse for his friend.

"Ah, I've nearly forgotten." He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a knife. "I believe you told me to return this to you when it wasn't in me."

Just as he knelt, Joker swiped his foot out and knocked him off balance. The knife slipped from his fingers. Joker was on top of it in seconds, bouncing off his palms to stand.

Sensing he was about to be at a disadvantage, John scrambled to his feet and scurried backwards. He patted his back for his gun and swore upon finding nothing. He'd stupidly left it on top of the stairs after releasing the cannister.

Joker tossed the knife back and forth between his hands, lapping at his scars. An occasional laugh would burst from him; aftereffects of the serum. The sound made John very jumpy.

Damn it all to hell, it'd all been going so beautifully.

"That uh…wasn't very nice to psychoanalyze a clown when they're down." He pointed the tip of the blade at him and began gesturing with it. "Personally, I ah…I think you're jealous. And I don't blame ya one bit; I detest sharing her. She's the sorta gal ya lock away so no one else can ruin her except you. But I don't think she would take kindly to that, soooo I ah I guess I gotta learn t'a share. Got a bit of a learning curve, heh, I was an only child, no other sibling to steal away the attention. Rest assured, Doc, she's going to end up with me one way or another. Fate is funny like that; it favors the catalyst. Ahahaha…"

John frowned. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried provoking him. It seemed to only reinforce the delusion that Celine could be his. Then again, the psychoanalyst in him was intrigued to be getting such an intimate glimpse into Joker's psyche; something the doctors at Arkham could only dream of.

"Now." Joker had been steadily approaching as John shuffled backwards. "You've uh had your playtime. Time to have mine."

Just as John readied himself to sprint up the stairs, a buzzing vibrated from Joker's pocket. A second later and his ring tone blared.

"I got something to say
I killed your baby today
And it doesn't matter much to me
As long as it's dead-"

Joker raised his left hand and stuck up his index finger.

"Hang on a sec there Doc. Might-ah be something important." His voice lowered to a murmur. "For their sake."

Remarkably, John found himself staying put. It never ceased to amaze him how much Joker relied on speaking with his body, and how the near franticness with which he moved could enforce the behavior he desired from others.

As Joker answered the call, John worked on tiptoeing backwards.

"He said what?"

Whatever playful mood he'd been in vanished in an instant. Something dangerous lurked in his expression. He didn't envy the guy on the other line relaying the information.

Though John couldn't hear it, the person conversing with Joker repeated what they'd just said.

"Aesop said you gave the order for him and the new recruit to start loading the kids back onto the bus. He said our location was compromised and you had run into a bit of trouble with Crow. Just wanted to call to confirm. They're getting the last batch on. We're supposed to meet up back at HQ?"

Joker twitched so violently John was briefly concerned he was exhibiting warning signs of an epileptic seizure.

"Get the brats back in the cellar and keep Ace and the recruit for me 'til I arrive. No one touches them but me, got it?"

John grinned beneath his mask. It was always pleasing to witness someone get a one up on the clown. Similarly, once he learned of Celine's involvement, he doubted he would be as taken with her as he claimed to be.

Joker hung up the phone and finally dropped his hand.

"Raincheck, Johnny. Daddy can't leave house for an hour without the kiddies acting up." He sighed dramatically. "Disciplining them is a thankless task, but somebody's gotta do it."

He shrugged to himself before exiting the warehouse.

John watched him go, satisfied with how events had transpired. He finally had a firsthand account of what this newest serum was capable of. The results were encouraging, though he would need to do some theorizing on why Joker not only seemed immune to the serum's intended effects but shared a similar response to one of Celine's later trials.

All considerations for tomorrow. Tonight, he would take a well-earned, well-needed rest.

x_X_x_X_x

They had just gotten the last of the sixty-some children seated when a bullet sailed through one of the bus windows and exited out another one.

"Get down!" Celine shouted.

The packed vehicle of kids did as she said, finally free of their bonds.

Aesop was on his knees at the front of the vehicle, attempting to snatch the lever to close the doors. His latest lunge was successful, and the doors slammed shut with a muffled squeak.

More bullets soared through the glass above them, never straying beneath the window. Which meant the order wasn't to kill everyone on board, but most likely provoke them into giving up and then capturing them.

Aesop dove into the driver's seat and shoved the keys into the ignition, starting the bus. He kept his body tilted forward to avoid the shower of bullets.

Celine knew what she had to do. He would never be able to steer them out of this assault without crashing. Because they were out in the scrap yard, she felt less guilt for what she was about to do. In an uncontained area with access to fresh air, they stood a much better chance of handling themselves.

Just as Aesop hit the pedal, she crawled on her elbows to the back of the bus, assisted by the sudden force of the bus jerking forward. When she'd reached the emergency door, she used the backs of the seats to pull her body up. Aesop abruptly veered around a pile of disassembled tractor parts, sending her body soaring into the opposite seat, skull striking the window.

"Sorry!" Aesop yelled back at her, glancing through the rearview mirror every other second.

She tried to regain her footing, head pounding at the collision. Cosmos help her, she could not wait for this day to be over.

The further they distanced themselves, the lower the bullets were aimed. They were now committed to spearing through the bus's tires.

Celine knelt despite the erratic bouncing, steadying herself on the handle of the emergency exit with her left hand. Her pinky-less one slipped under her shirt and snatched John's cannister. It felt slightly larger than the last time she held it.

"STOP!"

Aesop peeked at her to make sure he'd heard correctly before abruptly hitting the breaks. She'd have been propelled forward like everyone else had she not been clutching the handle for dear life. A unanimous groan sounded throughout the bus. She would personally handwrite them each an apology note for that one.

Yelling could soon be heard as men sprinted toward their location, less concerned about shooting and more about gaining ground. She rose a little and glanced out the exit window, lips quirking up at the stampede of angry former co-workers. Shame. She'd never been fired from a job before this one.

When they weren't but fifty yards away, Celine pushed down on the door handle, cracking it open halfway. She quickly bit off the pin to the cannister and with a strong flick of the wrist, threw it as far as she could in the direction of the herd behind them.

"GO! GO!"

Aesop had been watching the whole thing. Her second 'GO!' startled him out of his trance. It gave her enough time to shut the door and witness the cannister spew out gas every which direction. Quite soon she could only make out silhouettes.

The bus jerked forward and once again Celine struck the emergency door from the force. She wouldn't be surprised if she'd sustained a concussion sometime throughout the day.

With Joker's men being left behind to deal with John's toxin, Aesop was able to properly focus on escape, weaving his way around piles of junk toward one of the yard's multiple exits.

They had just reached a path that would merge them onto a main road when something zoomed past them and struck a pile of car fenders just ahead to their left. She covered her eyes as an explosion tore through the air, igniting the night sky and sending fiery bits of plastic and metal to reign down on them.

She thought she heard Aesop yelling at everyone to hold tight as he pressed down on the accelerator.

She was still reeling from seeing car parts get blown up from such a close distance. What had that been? A missile launcher? A bazooka? Who would have the audacity to-?

Groaning, she leaned her back against the exit door and closed her eyes. Who else?

Gives a new meaning to being fired, she thought wryly.

At some point Aesop had successfully steered them onto the main road. How far along they went, she couldn't be sure. Her headache made it so she could think of nothing else but the pounding. Her bandaged hand was beginning to burn from overexertion. And the bruises on her face decided to wake back up.

She ended up slumping into a fetal position and passing out just as they tore out of the Narrows.

Joker's ring tone is Last Caress by The Misfits. I had initially planned on doing a sillier song but ultimately figured he'd really love the lyrics to this one. Plus, I def see him as a connoisseur of 70s/80s Punk.
Three cheers for our bby girl being so brave...lets hope she can maintain that bravery when Joker learns the extent of her involvement in the rescue.