Celine's alarm stirred her out of slumber just a little shy of eight o'clock the next morning. She'd been enthralled with a series of vibrant dreams that had bled into each other like colors on a used palette. One dream consisted of a hotel manager she was attempting to evade, who had been convinced she was gathering an army of balloon animals to overthrow the government with. She'd had a lot of fun weaving through the hotel rooms, up and down the stairs; ordering her second in command, Sergeant Bumblebee, to hold the manager off while she hastily blew and handmade more reinforcements in the shape of elephants, giraffes, and eagles.
Another dream consisted of a wedding that took place on the shores of a lighthouse she'd once seen before but couldn't recall the location of. Everything was going swimmingly until it came time to say the I do's. The groom's family were suddenly garbed in black ceremonial robes (maybe they'd been all along?) and they began to unanimously chant something that wasn't in a human language. Then the priest joined in and without warning the sky tore open, revealing the legendary cosmic entity Cthulhu. Cue mass panic ensuing as the wedding band faithfully played a rendition of Richie Valens' "La Bamba". Fear and hysteria aside, it was all quite comical to witness.
The final dream she recalled was the one that stood out the most. There was a hot air balloon coasting over a natural spring so clear you could glimpse the countless mermaids weaving in the water. She was in the hot air balloon with her mom, and they were chatting with one another as if no time at all had passed. It was the first time in quite a few months she'd been blessed with her presence, and she wasn't about to take it for granted.
Their entire conversation was muddled to her now, but she remembered discussing Agatha's tarot reading with her and her feelings regarding Joker being her soulmate. Amazingly, her mom was optimistic about the unorthodox pairing, which prompted a passionate dialogue between the two.
"The Jack she showed me in that kitchen is impossible to resurrect," she'd insisted. "I see my future with him ending one of two ways…visiting him in Arkham for the rest of eternity or…him standing over my grave, laughing."
Her mom counteracted this fear with a suggestion.
"Ask him to do something for you. Inherently, love is not a selfish emotion. If he does what you ask for no one's benefit but your own…there may still be hope."
At some point a black unicorn had crashed their little get-together, miraculously able to gallop across the water without sinking. Atop the unicorn sat a circa 1980s, shirtless Kurt Russell, who proceeded to flirt up a storm with Nora. Halfway into the overly saccharine exchange and Celine was strongly considering pushing her mom out of the hot air balloon and into Kurt's waiting arms just to be rid of the eyerolling display.
They ended their conversation as a light snow shower descended on them.
"Some days I miss you worse than others. There's so much I wanted you to be around for."
Her mom's grip on her had been tight…reassuring.
"And I am…I will be…in my own way. In the meantime, I'd like you to focus on the present moment. The one passing by with every second, every inhale and exhale. No more looking back. There's nothing of use in that direction. In doing this…this is how you honor me."
She'd meant to say more, but her alarm blared her back to reality before she could.
Overall, the combination of her colorful dreaming and the heart to heart with her mom left her feeling not only well-rested, but inherently excited for the week that was to come. As usual, her mom had been right. There was no use marinating in the realm of 'what-if's'. The realm of playing on repeat all the scenarios that could end in pain or suffering. This life was begging to be lived and she would honor her by doing so with everything she had in her.
By nine o'clock Celine had her sole luggage container stuffed with all the items needed for her trip north. Most of it included her medications as well as extra gauze, dressings, and bandage wraps for her hand. She wasn't as concerned with packing a ton of clothing as she tended to re-wear a lot of what lay untouched in her dresser drawers back in Maine.
After guzzling down a few cups of coffee she checked her phone messages.
Her Uncle Lucien had texted back to let her know the house was ready for her occupation of it, and that he and the family couldn't wait to see her. Lisa also texted back with a promise to get in contact with everyone else from their friend group. Apparently, their town's drive-in theatre was hosting a Midnight Madness festival later in the week showcasing classic horror films. She couldn't wait to smoke a little with them and get in on the action, just like old times.
Bruce still hadn't called or texted, but she chose not to linger on this disappointment. There was a time and place, this wasn't either. Guilt was not welcome on this weeklong excursion. And she held no desire to pressure him for a response. Everyone processed frustration at their own pace, and in his defense, she had been in the wrong with her secretive liaisons.
Though, she couldn't deny she missed her best friend terribly.
Her final task before hitting the road was to pop by Stephanie's for her pickup of essentials. The woman didn't live far away, so she was content to walk there. Before embarking in the needed direction, she got out her Oldsmobile from the parking garage and parked it in front of her apartment building, so she'd be ready to leave upon returning. Only after securing her luggage in the trunk did she take off toward Steph's.
It took eight firm knocks on the door before Stephanie answered, ginger hair frazzled and eyes bloodshot.
"Yikes," Celine noted, peering up and down at the woman. "Rough night?"
"Morning," she corrected, stepping aside to let her in. "I dropped my phone in the toilet, I've gotten maybe six hours of sleep the past three days, and that bitch-I mean…you remember Caroline Bambach? She reviews all the local theater productions in The Gotham Times?"
"The same one that sat in on one of our improv sessions and later wrote 'I don't normally condone mass shootings, but for these people I'm willing to make an exception'?"
As messed up as it was, at the time Celine found the commentary quite funny. And rather than prevent people from coming to their sessions, they'd drawn an impressive crowd the next time around. Apparently, everyone wanted to witness how bad of improvers they were to warrant such an extreme review.
"The very same," Stephanie answered, palming her weary face. "She's apparently co-directing Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Musical…which makes no sense since she's been very outspoken about how she views non-drama productions. There's a rumor floating around they're only accepting auditions from people who've gotten a degree from an arts university."
Celine's brows rose.
"That hardly seems fair. Some of the best natural actors and singers have never gotten a degree."
"That's what I'm saying." She gestured for Celine to follow her to a spare room. "Which is why I'm planning to forge the needed documents to get that god damn audition. I know I've got the vocal chords to secure Willow's role. Everyone in that theater is going to know it by the time I'm through."
"You have my support," she encouraged. "And bail money if you end up escorted out by the police."
This seemed to brighten her countenance somewhat.
"I wasn't able to get Chemdawg, so you'll have to settle for Sour Diesel," she redirected, picking up two brown bags. "And these shrooms…they're a slight variation of the strain I normally grow. I know you're pretty well experienced with tripping, but I feel the need to say…proceed with caution…these are a little more intense than normal. Last thing I need to hear is you were seen naked climbing a water tower because the ghost of Richard Nixon told you to."
Celine didn't hold back her chuckle. She peeked inside the bag containing the blue and grey mushrooms, tightly wrapped up in a zip-lock baggie. As she studied them, Stephanie slipped a pack of Marlboros from her sweatpants, pulled out two cigarettes, brought them to her mouth and proceeded to light them both.
She was the only person Celine knew who smoked two cigarettes at once.
"It all depends on my stress level at the time," Stephanie had once explained upon being questioned about it. "If I'm smoking one, things are good. Two and I'm on the verge of losing my shit."
Celine had cocked her head.
"But you're almost always smoking two."
She snapped her fingers.
"Exactly."
"I appreciate you coming through for me, Steph. Thank you."
The woman nodded, resting her hip against a table. Both cigarettes were hanging loosely between her index finger and middle.
"So…."
When she didn't say anything else, Celine glanced at her.
"So?"
Stephanie was wearing a sly expression; eyes narrowed, a half smirk in place, looking like she'd just caught her red handed in the crime of the century.
"You and the Joker…." She waved her hand through the air. "…how long has it been going on?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Indeed, she felt as if she'd been caught red-handed. It was taking great strength not to let on how nervous Stephanie's interrogation was making her.
"Pu-ah-lease," she deflected, rolling her eyes. "I read and watch the news. Wasn't too difficult to put two and two together."
"Put what and what together?"
"Am I going to have to spell it out for you?"
"Y-E-S?"
Snorting, Stephanie flicked her ash into a nearby tray.
"Joker kidnaps those kids. You ask me to dress you up like a guy. News outlets say two men, one eerily matching your description after my makeover, arrived with the kids at Gotham General. Also, you look like you went toe to toe with Jean-Claude Van Damme. And you have a history of being his hostage. You do the math."
Celine shrugged casually.
"Math has never really been my forte."
Her eyes narrowed even further.
"You're hiding something."
She did her best to maintain eye contact, unwilling to give anything away.
"Fine," Stephanie settled on. "Play coy all you want, but I'm ninety-seven percent convinced you and that clown got something going on. And for what it's worth, I approve."
She failed to hide her surprise.
"You do?"
"Hell yeah. I mean the pairing is straight up bizarre. But…if there's anyone capable of curbing homicidal urges, it's you. I've watched you work magic on getting people to open up during sessions with the Cheekbones'. I trust him in your hands more than I do the doctors at Arkham...or even Batman for that matter. Plus…bizarre is…beautiful. Life would be so boring without it, no?"
"No," Celine answered. "I mean yes…it would be. I-your accusation is completely unfounded…but thank you for your support nevertheless."
She still didn't appear all the way convinced.
"If I find out I was right all along; I will NEVER let you live it down."
"I look forward to that day…because I know it won't ever come."
Stephanie made a noise of disagreement, but thankfully switched the topic to calmer waters. Not twenty minutes later they were voicing their goodbyes with a tight hug.
On the walk back, Celine had to commend Steph's perceptivity. Perpetual stoner aside, she wasn't shy about connecting the dots. Which meant she really needed to be more careful in the future regarding who she involved in her run-ins with Joker.
Ideally there won't be anymore, but the universe seems to be bent on proving me wrong.
She made it to her car a short while later and sprung the trunk open. Moving aside her luggage case, she removed the black square of the floor revealing her spare tire and securely tucked her brown bagged goodies inside. Once she was convinced a prison sentence wasn't in her immediate future, she rested her luggage atop the black square and closed the trunk.
Before taking off, she rummaged through the binder sitting on the floor of the passenger side. It was home to all of her CD's from the past two decades. Her mindset was slipping into one of avid wanderlust and she needed the background music to accompany that.
She opted on Core by Stone Temple Pilots. There was nothing like tearing down a road jamming to "Wicked Garden."
She started up her car, threw on her sunglasses, and not soon after was watching Gotham's skyline disappear in her rearview mirror; offering the gloomy city a much-needed peace sign out her window.
x_X_x_X_x
The drive to Calgary Cliff, Maine was approximately a little over six and a half hours. And the first half went mostly without a hitch. She'd managed to go through another STP album, Nirvana's Unplugged in New York, and was steadily burning through Smashing Pumpkins' Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness when she decided to pull over at a gas station and mini mart in the greater Boston area to fill up on gas and grab something to munch on.
Once her car was on full again and a bushel of bananas were her passenger seat companions, she veered back onto the expressway and made her way north out of the busy city.
Her cruise control was set for seventy-two and "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" had just begun playing.
"The world is a vampire," she sang along, thumb tapping on the steering wheel, "set to dra-ayee-ain. Secret destroyers…hold you up to the flames. And what do I get…for my pay-ayee-ain? Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game."
Her shoulders started to sway back and forth. She was feeling the moment from here to infinity. It was going to be a fan-fucking-tastic week.
"Even though I know…I suppose I'll show…all my cool and cold-like job….…" She began to bang her head. "Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in the cage! Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage! Then someone-."
"BOO!"
Joker sprang out from behind her seat with arms extended.
Her entire body shot out of her seat, the seatbelt the only thing preventing her head from striking the ceiling. The steering wheel suffered the consequence of her sudden fright, hands involuntarily jerking it to the right.
An annoyed honk informed her she'd drifted into the right lane. She abruptly hit the brakes and let them pass, heart rate pounding like a gang of drums.
Joker collapsed backward into the seat, hands clutching his tummy, eyes clamped tight as tears threatened to spring out of the corners of his eyes. She could barely hear the music over his high-pitched, nasally giggling.
Her terror quickly gave way to incense. She flicked on her turn signal and worked on slowing the car down onto the shoulder of the road as trucks and cars zoomed past her.
Joker's laughter failed to lessen. If anything, the car coming to a sudden halt caused him to reignite into another fit.
"Oooo hoo hoo, hee hee hee ahahaaaa!"
He was practically choking on his own spit, chest heaving up and down, tears smudging his black and white greasepaint.
Gritting her teeth so hard it bordered on painful, Celine put the car in park. Her next set of actions were made without thought.
She unclipped her seatbelt, threw open her car door, and hopped out onto the gravel beneath her. Joker was still in the clutches of a fit when she yanked open the backseat door. Her hands shot out and grabbed onto one of his ankles. She tugged on it hard, causing his body to swivel onto its side. This did little to deter his mirth.
Fueled by a rush of stamina, she tugged on his ankle again, feet propelling backwards. Joker's body went along for the ride, half of his form nearly out the car.
She didn't have time to consider what a spectacle she was making to everyone driving by. Her only goal was to rid the backseat of the chortling, red-faced clown occupying it.
Unfortunately for her, the shoulder she'd parked on made way for a steep ten-foot drop into a ditch. And in such a haste was she to get him out that when the soil beneath her right foot gave out, she could do little to prevent the rapid drop backwards.
One moment she had a firm hold on his ankle, the next she was tumbling backwards in a somersault off the side of the road, landing with a heavy splat! on her back at the bottom of the muddy, ankle-high, watery ditch. Instantly, her back was soaked. And only when the adrenaline began to wear off did she wince and cup the back of her skull.
Joker's laughter was fully unleashed now, though thankfully muffled by the sound of speeding traffic.
She blinked up at the blue sky, groaning softly.
Just. My. Luck.
This was immediately countered with-
At least the sun is out, and this didn't happen while it was downpouring. And miraculously my bandages aren't soaked. Optimism. I'm going to need a healthy serving of it right about now.
For close to a minute, she was content to reside at the bottom of the ditch, resigned to her fate. She even played a game of 'what shape is that cloud?' For some reason, there were an excessive amount of horses.
Her view of the sky was obstructed moments later as Joker slid his way down into the ditch and practically skipped over to her, beaming from ear to ear. She could tell it was taking great effort on his part not to resume laughing.
"Aww…aren't you just a sight?" he teased, extending a gloveless hand.
She was tempted to ignore his help, but that he even bothered with the action was, whether she wanted to admit it at this moment or not, surprisingly thoughtful.
Begrudgingly, she wrapped her hand around his and allowed him to pull her up.
When she was on steady footing again, her fingers got to work on twisting her t-shirt, ridding it of any excess moisture. She then knocked loose all of the mud that clung to her like a second skin; particularly around her bare legs (she briefly chastised herself for choosing khaki shorts to wear). The creeping humidity too aided in sweating some of the dirt off.
I need to be hosed down.
"It-ah never gets old scaring you silly," he gloated, still wearing the same self-indulgent grin. "I'll admit…didn't expect ya to go for the ankle. I can confidently say that's a new one from you. Ribs, groin, ankle…you sure know how to keep me on my toes. Or rather- off of them."
He briefly put all his weight onto the tips of his toes, adding a couple inches to his already towering height. She was sorely tempted to push him over, but the desire for an explanation overruled it.
Some of the water in her hairline trickled into her eyes. She worked on wiping it away.
"What the hell are you doing in the backseat of my car?"
He shrugged.
"You were packing, I got curious, slipped inside while you were away, and uh…here we …are."
"You couldn't have just asked?"
"My second favorite element – behind all the potentials of uranium – has always been…wait for it…surprise!" The fingers of his left hand shot out at her like an amateur magician. He wiggled them a few times in her face. "Really gets the heart pumping, don't you think?"
She stifled a sigh.
"You are such a little shit."
He giggled at that.
"Aw, you're gonna make me tear up, sweets. That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me." He leaned toward her with hands clasped behind him, lowering his tone to one of relentless playfulness. "Personally… I don't think you would want me any other way."
She chose to overlook this attempt at antagonizing her. Prior to his unexpected appearance, she really was having an excellent day. It seemed a waste to let him steal that from her.
"Why wait so long to make your presence known?" she tried, feeling the last of her fury ebb away. She supposed it was funny, in a way. From his perspective, not hers. "I could have killed us both."
"Chasing you around Gotham makes for a very sleepy clown," he answered, pretending to rest his cheek against two hands and emitting some snoozing noises. "Can't blame me for wanting to catch some shut eye. But don't you worry that pretty little head of yours, I made sure to time it just right. You're no use to me as roadkill."
His lack of remorse informed her not to bother with expressing any further frustration. It was clear he was proud of having gotten the one-up on her.
This led to the next question: what now?
They were nearly four hours out of Gotham and she really didn't feel like making the return trip back. Calgary Cliff was by all means a closer drive.
I cannot take him home. It puts everyone I love at risk.
Then again, she had this to consider- she would be gone from Gotham for a week…Joker was with her…Joker would be gone from Gotham for a week…Gotham could rest easy knowing the residential homicidal clown wasn't around to cause his usual brand of mayhem.
Batman could get some rest. She owed him that at least, right?
Am I really considering this?
One glance at Joker and she knew his thought process was of a similar nature to hers. Would she or wouldn't she risk the journey backward?
This is so surreal. Didn't mom and I just have this conversation? No more moving backwards. Surely…surely this is an exception. You don't lead a wolf to a pack of sheep. And though my family can hardly be described as sheep, compared to an atypical predator like Joker, they would be out of their depths in dealing with him should the occasion call for it.
Joker was studying her with great scrutiny, occasionally shooting out his tongue to lick up the saliva near his scars. She could practically hear the rumbling of his thoughts.
Would she or wouldn't she? Would she or wouldn't she?
It made her wonder just how intentional his timing had been in revealing himself. He must have suspected whenever he'd been lucid that they were heading north, potentially to her hometown seeing as he knew quite a lot about her already. He wanted her to get far enough away from Gotham that returning would be a chore at best, a migraine at worst. Ultimately, it was a test. And she hadn't a clue what the correct answer was.
I…I'm at a loss, truly. Intuition…please…guide me in the right direction.
She opened her mouth, not entirely sure herself what would come out.
"I'm going to be spending a week in the town I grew up. Meeting with old friends, seeing some of my favorite relatives. It'll no doubt bore you to tears, so…I'll drive you back to Gotham."
His response was instantaneous.
"Not a chance. Between hanging that religious nut – contrary to what Crow may have told you, I did the heavy lifting, he was merely a…spectator in the audience - and chasing you around all night, I'd ah say things are getting…serious between us, hm? Only right I meet my bunny's friends and family."
She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. It was clear he was fishing for excuses to justify taking him with her. And she had half a mind to make the trip back regardless. Especially with his mention of Martha Graves's "suicide". Residual guilt still lingered in her for her indirect complicity in the murder.
Joker picked up on this instantly; rolling his eyes.
"If I didn't, someone else would have," he followed up, leaving no room for dispute. "She had a very hangable neck. That we can at least agree on."
"You have a far more hangable neck," she pointed out. "But you don't see me plotting out your murder."
"That's because secretly…you're in loooooooove with me."
She snorted.
"You sure it's not the other way around?
What sounded like a giggle got trapped in his throat. His eyes flicked down to her lips, licking his own as he did so.
Off topic, off topic, off topic. Sweet nebula, get it together.
She focused her attention behind him on a protruding tree root. Its gnarled shape got her thinking about how powerful planting a seed was. With the proper water, light, and nourishment, the surrounding environment really didn't matter. Out of defiance, it would bloom, so long as it had someone willing to cultivate it.
Joker…Jack…when she shut off her brain and tuned in interiorly…it told her he was just itching to have someone wrap their palms around him…around the shell-like exterior that was his soul…bend their lips down…and kiss the foundation better; breathing life into it anew. Though he'd eat a bullet before ever admitting to it, he yearned for something he'd never received …and she knew inherently, instinctively…there was a window of time to give it to him, and if she didn't now, no one else would ever bother to again. That gap would seal forever, and all the universe would mourn what he could have been.
Now whether he would be receptive to it…that was still unclear. That was the danger. But it was encouraging anyhow, right? Knowing he yearned, even if it was submerged in the trenches of denial.
Is that the consensus then? I bring him home and see where things lead? Hope he doesn't go postal and kill everyone I love during a mood swing? And can I even extend him the love capable of making him better? Can I overlook just how much of a threat he is?
Her sigh was heavy.
"Okay." She looked up at him, making sure his gaze was locked with hers. "I'm going to say this only once. You so much as lay a finger on any of them and it will be the last thing you do. I am dead serious about this, Jack. You harm them, you die. Be it by my hand or someone else's."
He made to retort – most likely with something aggravating – when she shot both hands up into his hair, gripped onto his green locks, and brought him down so they were nearly touching noses. His eyes prompted involuntarily shivers. So deep, so lively…so…pretty.
"Do you understand?"
Pursing his lips, he tried to lean back, but she kept a firm hold of him.
"Do. You. Understand?"
His eyes had narrowed into slits.
"Not very nice of you to threaten your guest."
"You're not being threatened," she said. "You're being promised."
He scanned her for nearly a full minute; gauging her seriousness.
She returned the favor, involuntarily leaning closer to him; attempting to detect where Jack began and Joker ended.
The cars continued to speed by above them, nonethewiser to the intense exchange below.
In an instant he knocked her hands loose and grabbed her by the cheeks, thumbs sneaking to rest below her chin. She didn't feel threatened by any means. To her it was clear it was a power move. He did not enjoy being at the physical mercy of anyone.
Prior to today, she'd not have picked up on this. In the aftermath of last night, however, she was allowing herself to naturally read everything from the tic of his jaw to the huffs flying out of his nose to the burning in his eyes and what lie beyond them.
Joker made a humming sound at the back of his throat, licking at his bottom lip. His tongue was dangerously close to darting out and grazing hers.
Abruptly he pinched her cheek with one hand.
"So long as they don't do something stupid…like provoke me…I'll…behave."
It was as good of an answer as she would receive.
"Wonderful. Thank you."
His lips quirked up. He cocked his head.
"Something's…different about you."
She tried to twist out of his hold, but one of his hands still had a stern hold of her face.
"I don't know what you mean."
He was inhaling each one of her responses, pushing his nose closer to hers so he could study her eyes better.
"You're…you-." She could sense him struggling for the proper words. "-I can't put my finger on it…you're aware of something I'm not."
"I think you're looking too far into it," she deflected. "And to be fair, evading a clown in Gotham also prompts some sleepiness. I got a good night's rest, that's all."
He continued peering at her, searching for any hints of deception.
"That woman…who was she?"
She didn't bother playing dumb.
"A very good friend. I needed to vent, she listened."
"Didn't know you frequented those sorta places…you uh…really believe in that stuff?"
"I didn't…until I met her."
"Hm…" He pushed her away, nearly causing her to topple backwards into the ditch. More to himself, he mumbled, "Might be loonier than I am."
Before she could respond, he had sprinted halfway up the ditch, leaving her to wobble uncertainly.
This is actually happening. He's coming home with me. If this isn't a disaster waiting to happen I don't know what is.
She wondered if Agatha knew this would happen. She wondered if her mom knew this would happen. Was this what she meant by asking him to do something for her?
I guess I didn't ask…promising to kill him is definitely not asking.
Most importantly, she wondered how true to his word he would be not to harm those close to her. If he dared lay a hand on any of them…
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Bright side? I had the foresight to bring the taser with me…and Sally. Today still has the makings of being a good day. His presence isn't going to ruin that.
Her mind made up; she began her trek upward.