(A/N: Hi! I know it's been a while, but I haven't forgotten about this story, and I truly hope you enjoy the update! I know it's short, but I have the next chapter already in the works so it won't be much of a wait! Special thanks to Anna10473, Guest, vanessaserrato, Marie, Little X-Kid, Boag, Cassie-011, and Animemaniagirl. As always, thank you so much for the favs, follows, and kind reviews. I'm so grateful to those that take the time to not only read the story, but leave me a sweet review about it.)
I thought my arm might dislocate from my shoulder as he roughly dragged me behind him, not trusting me enough to follow without a lead. My eyes trailed along the grimy burgundy walls and numbered wooden doors as we rushed through the dimly lit corridor of wherever this was and I wondered sardonically if everyone else here was having as much fun as me. To my relief, it wasn't long before we came to a halt at the threshold of an ancient looking elevator. I tried to catch my breath as my head pounded brutally against my cracked skull.
Only a moment seemed to pass before the doors slid open and he hurriedly guided me in, his hand pushing along the small of my sweaty back, lingering there even as the doors closed. I shifted nervously but felt too weak to protest.
"What hospital are we going to?" I finally managed to croak.
"You'll see." He said as the elevator came to a halt and the doors screeched open.
I furrowed my brow as he pushed me forward through the tight doors. I didn't see what difference it made if I knew which hospital we were going to or not. It seemed I was going regardless.
He pulled me through a dark, deserted, unmarked lobby toward two wide glass doors, one of which was smashed and resealed along its fissures with duct tape. If this was a motel, it didn't look operational.
"What kind of place is this?" I was afraid to ask but I did anyway.
"You really wanna know, doll?" He asked, glancing back at me, eyebrow raised, as he pushed his body against the slimy looking glass.
I decided I was probably better off not knowing and shook my head.
I followed him through the doors, the cool air immediately washing over me; my head tingling where the cold breeze met the matted blood, still wet. Ignoring its soft sting, I breathed the air in deeply and felt grateful for something so mundane. At my pause, he strode ahead of me, off leash, his uniform flapping up a bit in the breeze. I felt like I was still locked in a dream, just waiting to wake up.
When I started lagging behind, he cast me a look over his shoulder and I scuttled up to his side. Ahead of us I noticed a large white cargo van, parked along the curb, two men dressed in plain clothes leaning against its side.
Waiting for us, I assumed.
As we approached, the taller of the two men grabbed hold of the metal handle and yanked open the van's door, winking at me as he did. Instinctively, I felt my face morph into an expression of despair, looking away from him and into the darkness of the van. The warm, stale air trapped inside wafted out and into my face, and I grimaced even deeper at both the smell, and the thought of leaving the openness for another confined space. The Joker looked down at me and motioned for me to get in. I hesitated for a moment before lifting myself in, my legs wobbling as I went. I noticed immediately there was only one seat in the cavernous back, folded against the wall of the van, and went ahead and assumed it wasn't for me. Instead I resigned myself to the cold hard floor and held my knees to my chest. He crawled in after me, slamming the door shut behind him and I watched as he plunked down unceremoniously on the single seat, ignoring the usual modesty that comes with wearing a dress. I turned myself away from him, trying not to catch an up-skirt view.
As the two men climbed into the driver and passenger seat respectively, I stared out the windshield and surveyed my surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. Most of the buildings had fallen into some kind of disrepair, with smashed windows and crumbling exteriors. Endless closed shops lined the streets, only the occasional neon sign flickering above a darkened doorway. I had never been to the Narrows, and taking it in now at face value, I supposed that was probably a good thing.
The van suddenly jerked into drive and I gasped in surprise. Lurching forward, I gripped onto the passenger seat to stop from tumbling backward. As I steadied myself, I glanced over at the Joker and was unsurprised to see him staring directly at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his scarred mouth.
I cleared my throat and looked away. I could see out the window that we were crossing the bridge back to Downtown.
"Gotham General." I whispered.
"Bingo."
I sat silently, absorbed in thought. I knew Gotham General well. I'd haunted its halls on many sleepless nights while my mother –
"Andy."
The utterance of my name broke me from my thoughts. I turned toward him, his eyes boring into mine.
"C'mere." He beckoning me toward him.
I hesitated, like a scared puppy, and he rolled his eyes.
"Don't make me come getcha."
I held back a whimper that crept up into my sore throat and reluctantly released my death grip on the seat in front of me. Slowly, I got onto my knees and crawled toward him, feeling particularly demeaned.
I could see the satisfaction plastered on his face as I came to a stop in front of him, teetering unsteadily on my now burning knees. Suddenly, I was jerked backward and away from him as the van made a sharp turn. I tumbled onto my back, my head smacking painfully against the hardness of the van's floor.
Oh fuck. Oh no.
My head felt like it might explode and I reached to cradle it in my hands, moaning as I did.
"I didn't know you were so clumsy, Andy." I could hear him giggling as I rolled around on the floor, writhing in pain.
Wincing, I opened one eye and glanced up at the rear view mirror, the driver smirked back at me from the reflection. Anger bubbled just below the surface and I wanted so bad to tell him off, but I had neither the energy nor nerve to do it. Instead I crawled back onto my knees, and was only up mere seconds before we were hurtling around another corner. To my dismay, I tumbled back in the Joker's direction and, unable to stop the momentum, stumbled into him, bracing myself on his bent knees. He let out a nasally cackle and I could hear the two cronies sniggering in the front seat. I looked up at him and he looked back at me so darkly that my stomach burned. The intensity of his gaze forced me to retreat and I looked down, realizing I had gripped onto his bare leg for stability. Appalled, I ripped my hand away in an instant and held it against myself, as if I had been burned.
He scoffed at my recoil and moved to pull something from the pocket of his nurse's uniform. I stiffened, unsure of what to expect. My eyes remained locked on his spindly fingers as he unfolded two small white squares; fine elastic loops clinging to either side.
Masks, I realized.
"Here, c'mere." He bent toward me and gripped onto the back of my neck, pulling me forward. I felt myself loosen, his hand was surprisingly cold and it felt worryingly good where he held me. My eyes fluttered closed, just a little, in response.
I made no protest as he wrapped the end of the mask around one ear, and then the other, and then again when he brushed the dried, blood encrusted hair out from behind the mask and tucked it behind my ears. When he finally removed his hand, I mourned its absence and slid myself backward, but not entirely away.
"Almost there, boss." The shorter, bearded man announced over his shoulder. The Joker turned is attention away from me for what felt like the first time, and saying nothing, unfurled his own mask and snapped it on in an instant. As we rushed toward certain anarchy, he seemed unnervingly composed, maybe even relaxed.
The calm before a storm.
From my spot on the floor, I sat watching him, studying him. As I jostled rhythmically from side to side, I wondered why he had come so close to me and acted so intimately, and importantly, why I let him.
Probably the two traumatic brain injuries, I reminded myself.
I could feel the van turning another corner, this time much more smoothly, and I managed to hold myself still enough and learned forward to catch a glimpse out of the windshield. The towering sterility of Gotham General rolled into view, and my stomach churned anxiously. After what felt like an eternity, the van came to a stop. I turned back to him.
"What are you going to do?" I heard the desperation in my voice and I knew he did too.
Ignoring me, he leaned over and grabbed a soft-sided bag from the front seat and dropped it into his lap. I watched with bated breath as he rummaged through it, anticipating the reveal of a knife, or a gun…or worse. Instead, I sat dumbfounded, my mouth agape, as he pulled out a thick, shiny, red…wig. He dangled it in front of him for a moment, shaking it out and fluffing it. I realized in this moment I could not predict anything going forward and shook my head in disbelief and he hurriedly concealed his green locks beneath a blanket of red polyester. Almost like he'd done it before.
He turned his attention back to me and I very, truly, could not believe my eyes.
"You should wear that more often." He nodded toward my mask, his voice muffled slightly by his own. "Really brings out your eyes." I could see that he was grinning, the ends of his scars peeking mischievously from around the confines of the mask.
I felt myself glaring back at him, but had no time to respond before he was sliding open the rusty door and a barrage of sirens split the relative silence of the van. I held a hand to my aching head and watched as he dipped, as gracefully as one can in a dress, through the doorway. The shorter goon handed him a pistol and he looked back at me one final time before shoving the gun somewhere inside his uniform, turning and sauntering in the direction of an emergency exit. I desperately crawled after him and leaned through the opening, blinking away the brightness of the sun. With my vision cleared, I watched as he advanced toward a uniformed police officer, standing guard over the door. I held my breath as he approached him, and felt myself deflate when the officer opened the door for him, like some kind of maître d'.
Go. Now. I found myself thinking.
I took a nervous glance around, making quick note that I was alone, the goons having disappeared.
Too good to be true.
I let out a shuddering breath. I knew this wasn't the end of the Joker's plans for me, not after all the work he put in, but I also knew I couldn't let myself wait around to find out. Cautiously, I stepped out of the van, my heart beating so violently against the cage of my chest that my entire body seemed to shudder. My head still pounded in tandem, yet, I felt no pain. I could taste my freedom, but as the adrenaline pushed me forward, something else held me back. To my horror, a pair of arms wrapped around me, nearly strangling me and pushing the air from my lungs. I screamed with what breath I had left until my throat was raw, but no one could hear me over the chaos.