Follies of Fate

Chapter 2

Someone had obviously flicked a switch in the room outside my cell, because a thin ring of light was pooling its way around the doorframe. My eyes adjusted pretty quickly, but I waited for a couple of minutes before looking or moving around. I was waiting to see if the light went off.

Most people would probably have started examining where they were straight away, but I'd been in this situation far to many times to make that mistake. If I started looking around, or even moving around, and the light went off (leaving me in pitch black again), I'd very quickly loose track of my position in the room in relation to the door. The door, at this point, is my only escape option.

There were no windows. If there were they were boarded up exceedingly well because here had been no light at all before Jokers arrival. I continued to stare at the door, trying to figure out a basic idea of where I was. It smelt damp and old, and the air had a certain chill about it that usually came with a room that hadn't seen sunlight for a very long time. The bricks beneath my feet were solid but coated in dust, and there were small bits of lichen growing across the door frame. The door itself wasn't old though; it was metal, still with its unscratched shine. I could faintly make out the large silver bolts running into the bricks beside the door. I'd need explosives to get through it.

I was assuming I was in some kind of cellar or basement. The lack of windows and general atmosphere seemed to point to that. I let out a slow sigh and put my thoughts on hold of a minute, deciding whether on not I could move around yet.

The lights had stayed on. This was both a good and a bad thing, for several reasons. I was hoping, since the lights had been on for a while now, they would stay on. This was good because it gave me a chance to look around for something or some way to get out of here.

The fact that the lights were still on alluded to the possibility that there was someone outside my cell, guarding it. Then again there might not be. But the possibility would be something I would have to plan for. This was bad.

The light was just enough for me to figure out what kind of handcuffs I was wearing. This was important, because if they were the same type of cuffs the Joker always used I could get them off with little difficulty…if I could find something to pick the locks with. This was good

Slowly stepping away from the wall and into the strip of light cast by the door I stared down at the cuffs around my wrists and nearly laughed.

Same old predictable Joker. Same old cuffs. I could even see the blood stain smeared across the chain from my last little encounter with him. Maybe he didn't think the cuffs were that important.

Actually, he probably though the fact that it was always the same ones was some kind of joke.

I remember the Batman telling me once that the Joker was dangerous because of his unpredictability. I disagree, once you got past the madness of his schemes they always seemed to boil down to the same hair brain methods and techniques. Once you'd survived one situation with the Joker, it was just a matter of time before you got good at being one step ahead of him. Only this time I had gotten lazy and been one step behind. I'd been doing so well too, a whole seven months of no kidnappings or attacks.

Sighing to myself I started doing a better sweep of the room I was in. I had been right; I was in an old cellar, a small one, but still a cellar. To my right was a medium sized wine rack that covered the entire wall. To my left was what I presumed was once a large wine barrel, it was rotted now, split down the middle and covered in moss.

I shifted slowly to the wine rack a looked it over. It was bolted to the wall but the wood was old and practically falling apart so I was pretty sure that with enough force I would be able to drag it out from the bricks…maybe. Crouching down, I looked over the joins in the wood and felt a tingle of excitement as I spied the nails still holding the thing together. If I could get one or two of those nails out, and providing they were the right size, I could get my cuffs off.

But fist thing I needed to get the layout of the room in my head just in case the lights went out. Standing, I moved to the furthest right corner of the room, pressed myself against the edge of the wine rack, closed my eyes and started taking cautious steps forward.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 steps to the other wall, no obstacles under foot, turn left.

1, 2…2 and a half steps to the door. Door 1 step width. 1, 2, 3 steps to the opposing wall, turn left.

1, 2, 3, steps to wine barrel. Wine barrel 1 and a half steps wide, half a step to the wall, turn left.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…6 and a half steps back to the wine rack.

I breathed slowly as I reviewed the numbers in my head. It sounds stupid doesn't it? Counting steps around the room. But it's a very useful trick and it's saved me more than once.

I opened my eyes and looked up and around the roof of the cellar. It was curved like a dome, all brick, and I could very faintly make out a large hole in the very top centre point where a lamp must have been suspended before.

I didn't see any cameras, which was a plus because it meant I could do as I pleased in this little cell and no one would be the wiser. However, I couldn't see into the dark farthest corners and heights of the room so I might be wrong. The tiny amount of light would allow for a better camera picture if the Joker had planted any CCTV watches in here to keep an eye on me. Unless he had upgraded his tech to night vision, then I was just royally screwed no matter what.

Bending back to the wine rack I began trying to work a nail from the musty wood. It was relatively easy, the nail slid out like it wasn't even stuck in there in the first place and I held it up to the light. It was a little big, but it might work. Pulling another out I crossed the room and couched in the half step space between the rotting wine barrel and the back wall, hunching over myself to try and hide my hands from the roof.

I still wasn't sure if the Joker had been smart enough to put camera watches in here…But then, the Joker didn't really have a way with technology, especially camera's. There was this onetime, going back a couple of years or so now, that I had been forced at gunpoint to set up a camera for my own ransom video. That had been an interesting night.

Interesting in a horrifying, hysteria inducing way…

Four and a Bit Years Ago...

"What do you mean he hitchhiked back to Gotham?" I stared incredulously at Police Commissioner Gordon. I couldn't fathom what I'd just been told. I couldn't come to terms with it, it was like someone had just poured oil into water and told it to mix, it just wasn't going to happen. "What is the security like at Arkham? That he could just walk out the fucking front gate and hitch a ride back to Gotham city?" I stood from my chair, my legs still shaking a little and my voice raising in a panic as I lent forward until I was practically crawling on the wide mahogany desk separating me from the tired looking commissioner. "How long ago did this happen exactly? How does he know my phone number? Why did he call me?" I was starting to hyperventilate, I could hear my voice degrading to a squeak as I tried to wrap my head around what had just happened.

Gordon sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. He was a hard man to read, but I was pretty sure that was the signal for 'Oh fuck it all to hell and back' in police speak.

"He escaped earlier this week."

My breath hitched and I felt my lower lip begin to wobble. Gordon noticed his and rushed on, placing his hands folded on the table and looking at me eye to eye.

"We've been tracking him but we think he's bribing someone in the force to hinder our investigations. Don't worry, Miss Strider, we're doing everything we can to catch him, and we will catch him."

I tried to take a few deep breaths, but they came out more like gasps, and I felt the first big salty tear roll down my cheek.

"But why did he call me? How did he get my number?" I choked out, trying to wipe away the tears now tumbling out over my face. "Its not even listed! He'd have to know where I live to get my number." Another sob cut my sentence in half as I realized this. He knew where I lived.

The Joker knew where I lived.

I let out a miserable little wail and buried my face in my hands. I was ashamed of how I was acting right now, all weak and snivelly and pathetic, but I just couldn't help it. I wished I was like one of those cool movie stars who took this all in her stride and ended up being the hero who worked it all out in the end. But no amount of wishing would make me like that. I wasn't a brave strong Hollywood star able to demand a re write of my story. I was just plain old Kate.

Even my name was average!

I couldn't fight, I had never fired a gun in my life and I was never good at solving mysteries. Hell, I wasn't even that fit! One session of yoga and I was ready to curl into a ball and die.

The only time I had ever been brave was at the Iceberg lounge six months ago, and that had been alcohol and concussion fueled…and this is what it had gotten me!

"Its OK, Miss Strider." Commissioner Gordon stood and rounded his table, kneeling beside me and rubbing my back. I opened my eyes to look at him and bit my lip, trying to stop it trembling. "Just take a few deep breaths, I'll get you some water and tissues and we'll go over all of this again OK?" I nodded and sniffled.

Police Commissioner Gordon reminded me of my Grandfather. Though not nearly as old, he had that same sweet and caring look on his face my Grandpa used whenever I was scared as a kid. 'Perk up chicken' he would mumble, rubbing my back and smiling ever so slightly 'It'll all be over soon, you'll be fine'.

I nodded and sucked in some shaky breaths, repeating my Grandpa's words over and over in my head. It was strange that such an old memory seemed to be calming me down now. Gordon smiled at me and patted my hand, standing and offering me the tissues from his desk. I took them, but waited until he had turned his back to pour me a drink from his water jug to mop up my face.

"Now, Kate…do you mind if I call you Kate?" He turned and handed me the glass of water as he spoke and I shook my head. No, I didn't mind if he called me Kate. I preferred it, it sounded more like I was a person when he called me by my first name, rather than a case file. "Tell me again what happened."

I took a sip of water, then took a deep breath. Then another sip of water and another breath. Commissioner Gordon sat down at his desk and smiled at me kindly.

"Well…" I wasn't sure where to start "I came home at the usual time."

"What time was that?" Commissioner Gordon asked quietly. I noticed he had pulled out a pen and pad and was poised to write down what he probably assumed was an important clue.

"6ish" I mumbled, trying to remember the position of the hands on my clock at home. "I had a shower, checked my messages. I only had two, one was from my family and the other was from the Joker." I was proud at how easily I said all that. In one smooth slow sentence without any sobs, or gasps or hiccups.

"Do you remember what the message said?" The Commissioner probed after a moment. I nodded and reached for my bag, pulling out my mobile.

"I have this service were I can listen to the messages on my home phone from my mobile." I flipped the phone open and dialled the message bank, turning it to speaker. The phone rang once, then the mechanical voice operated chimed on the line.

"You have one saved message, message received today at: 5:43pm." The beeping tone sounded before the message began to play. There was a long pause, where all I could hear was someone breathing in the background and what sounded like hyena's laughing, then his voice boomed out over the speaker. It made me jump, even through this was about the eighth time I had listened to the message since I'd gotten it.

"Oh! Its already gone to message bank! Sorry Katie baby, hope I didn't scare you!" The Jokers maniacal cackle started up before he spoke again a moment later "I was just in the neighbourhood and I thought hey! Why not call the gal I've been keening over all these long months while I've been away. But you're obviously not about!" There was another pause, and his laughter died down. When he spoke again, his voice had sunk to a low growl. I felt a shudder run through me, it was the same way he had spoken when I had first heard him angry at the Iceberg lounge. "Don't worry poo, I'll catch you real soon." then with a sharp click, the line went dead and the mechanical voice chimed 'end of messages'.

I snapped the phone shut.

"Sounds like a threat to me."

I jumped, and let out a pretty high-pitched squeal as a baritone voice chimed in from the back corner of the room near the window. I think I started hyperventilating.

Batman was standing in the corner of the room. I was surprised I hadn't noticed him before considering he was standing in plain sight. Well, if you didn't count the ominous shadows that clung to him like spider webs. The whole point of batman was for him to blend in and go unnoticed, right?

I found myself just sort of…staring at him for a moment, trying to figure out where you were meant to look if and when he addressed you. The most obvious place was his eyes. But his mask had little dark glass inserts where his eyes should be that obscured them completely from view. It was off-putting, which I could only assume was the intent, but it meant my eyes couldn't seem to help wandering away from his blank stare. Maybe his mouth? Should you look at his mouth? No…that was just odd.

I settled for the floor. Feeling like a scolded schoolgirl as I sat there reviewing the pattern in the carpet.

"The Joker doesn't make idle threats Gordon, if he went to the trouble to find her information and contact her, he's not playing games."

I heard Gordon 'hmmm' but didn't look up. I was trying to hide the tears slowly seeping back into my eyes. 'Perk up Chicken' I repeated to myself, Perk up Perk up Perk up, you'll be fine.

"What are you thinking? Protective custody?" Gordon sounded somewhere between reserved and tired. Like this was a dance he'd danced before. I wondered how many other women had been sitting here in the same position I was in now.

I swallowed harshly, thinking about what protective custody would mean. As if my life wasn't enough of a mess as it was. Mark and I had been on rocky ground recently, he claimed I wasn't spending enough time with him and was skitterish and jumpy when he was around. With work sucking up practically all my time I could barley stay awake after my day ended, let alone be a hapy perky girlfriend and my nerves were still frayed more than I would have liked from the Iceberg Lounge.

My boss wouldn't like it either; he'd hated the press that came with me being the 'heroic woman who broke the Jokers nose'. He'd hated it because it wasn't about him and his fancy suits. He'd never promote me if I went into protective custody. Hell, he'd fire me.

"No, he'll track her down, and the last thing we want is more people getting hurt when he makes his move." Batman sounded monotone. Batman always sounded monotone. But I could feel his eyes on me from his dark corner.

Part of me was grateful for the idea being nullified. The rest of me felt a little twitch of anger flick down my spine. So this was all my fault then? People were going to get hurt because of me? Why did he have to talk about this whole thing like I wasn't in the room?

More tears caught in my eyes and I swallowed thickly, trying to suppress the urge to sob. One salty drop escaped and scurried down my cheek before I could stop it. I swiped it away, turning to stare at the carpet in the other corner of the room. Perk up I reminded myself again and again.

"Surveillance at her apartment then." Gordon suggested, seeming to forget about my presence as well. I desperately wanted to interject with 'What about what I want' but I reminded myself I didn't know what I wanted at the moment and I would just end up stuttering stupidly when I was asked my opinion.

I'd be fine though, they'd figure something out and I'd be safe and sound and nothing like this would ever happen again. That's what the police and Batman was for right? Helping people in trouble?

"No, too obvious, he'll see it and change his plans. I suggest for the moment we leave the situation open, I'll have a constant watch on her and if he makes his move I'll step in to stop it. The one thing we know about the Joker Gordon is his capability to act unpredictably, if he doesn't come out now, he might go to ground and end up doing something far worse later on."

I digested this statement in a heartbeat and turned to face Batman so fast I heard my neck crack.

"What…" I felt myself begin to tremble from a horrible mixture of terror and anger. "What do you mean leave the situation open?" I stared at his blank eyes, trying to find some sort of explanation that didn't lead to the conclusion I had settled on. Batman gave none, and the grim set of his jaw didn't change in the slightest.

"Now, Kate, please stay calm." Gordon sounded reserved. I whipped to face him and forced myself to stand on shaky legs. He agreed with this? Gordon thought leaving me all alone against the Joker was a suitable solution?

"Stay calm? You want me to stay calm when I'm meant to be bait for a lunatic?"

Gordon sighed and shook his head.

"No-one said you were going to be bait." His reassuring words didn't help, and he must have known it too, because he scooted around the table and went to take my arm. I jerked away from his touch like he was made of acid.

"Yes he did." I swiveled again to face the emotionless man still poised in the corner of the room "You think I don't understand what you mean? If he doesn't come out to get me, you might not get a chance to catch him again. If there's police or security around me, he might get sneakier or even not bother! You want me out there, for all to see so when he comes to get me…" I stopped dead and slapped a hand to my mouth, slamming my eyes shut to try and forget what I knew was a reality. "You're just going to let him come aren't you?" I managed to mutter out.

There was a moment of silence before the dark baritone of Batman rattled through the room.

"Yes."

I choked on a sob and looked up at Gordon in a last ditch hope of finding some argument from him. Surely he wouldn't allow this?

Gordon just looked exhausted.

"You'll be fine, Kate, I don't like it either but as I said before there's a possible leak in the department. If the police act, we might make things worse or even open the door for the Joker to hurt you. If something happens we'll be there as fast as we can, but in the meantime, Batman can keep you safe."

Safe? I stared at him in disbelief. I'd be safe? All alone, in an unsecured apartment, with no one but Batman looking out for me against the Joker and his goons. I'd be safe?

"Bullshit!" The ferocity I put behind the word shocked even me, and Batman's jaw twitched. Gordon went to say something else but I cut him off as I grabbed my bag, swiping tears away from my eyes angrily. "Screw you both, if you're not going to help me I'll help myself" And I turned and left, slamming the door behind me as hard as I could.

It took me until I was half way back to my apartment in a cab for the anger to subside, then I broke down completely. I could barley see or breath through my tears as I realized the horrid truth of the situation.

I didn't know how to help myself.

The Joker was responsible for some of the most horrific murders and crimes in Gotham. He was a psychotic mad man with no morality or cares, and he was after me. What was I going to do against that sort of a person?

"You alright love?"

I glanced up through my sobbing at the man behind the wheel of the cab and shook my head at him, feeling a rant rising in my throat.

"No! I'm not all right! I hate this city!" The words were barley recognisable through my wheezing, but I didn't care "I hate the police, I hate the Joker, and more than anything I hate Batman! That stupid bastard doesn't care at all! Not about me anyway" I trailed off and stared at my hands, still sobbing like an idiot. "Its like it doesn't matter how scared you are, as long as the situation you're in is useful to him he doesn't care…"

The driver didn't say anything, and I felt my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. After a moment of silence I murmured an apology and continued to stare at my hands, closing my eyes and keeping my mouth firmly shut. Eventually I stopped crying and felt exhaustion hit me. I was so tired; it had been a hard day as it was without the message. I'd been yelled at by my boss for suggesting a less expensive suit to a customer, I'd had an argument with my parents over the coming Christmas holidays, an argument that then got worse when I admitted to mum Mark probably wouldn't be joining us.

I hadn't eaten today, skipping breakfast in favour of getting to work on time and skipping lunch in the hope it would stop me being fired. I was starving and it was late.

It had taken me a few hours to work up the courage to leave my house after I'd pressed play on my answering machine, and even once I'd gotten to the police station Commissioner Gordon hadn't been able to see me for two or so hours. All of that seemed worthless now, because it hadn't really gotten me anything but two sore, bloodshot eyes and a sudden distrust in the Gotham city police department…and Batman.

Batman. If I'd met him like that in any other situation I probably would have swooned and just sat there grinning, daydreaming about the possibility of him thinking I was pretty enough for a night time romance. The kind you find in a Mills and Boons novel. But now I didn't know if I actually wanted anything to do with him. He seemed crueler and darker than the newspapers reported him to be, and the kindness so many of his rescuees had said he had didn't seem to apply to me.

Then again, the little voice of reason in my head chimed in, He's right isn't he? If you could be a little braver about all this you could help a lot more people who would suffer at the Jokers hands if he's not locked up.

I heaved a sigh and rubbed my eyes. Yes, that was true. If the Joker stayed out of Arkham longer he would have more time to do more damage. But what was the point of catching him if the revolving door policy of the insane asylum would have him back on the streets in no time at all? Again, my voice of reason chimed in.

It's a chance. It's a chance that he won't get out again. Its better that he gets caught so he can't do damage than it is to just let him be and see what havoc comes out of it.

I blinked and huffed to myself, nodding at my hands. Yes, I suppose that was right. It was a chance that he wouldn't come back again. It was the possibility that he wouldn't get to hurt anyone anymore. I should have been thinking about that instead of throwing a tantrum.

But I was scared. This sort of thing just didn't happen to me. The world of the Joker and Batman was like a comic book or a cartoon to me. It was something I knew about, but never expected to suffer through.

So wasn't I allowed to be scared when someone like the Joker targeted me? Wasn't I allowed the same protection as I would be given if it was just some obsessed ex boyfriend or a pissed off colleague? Why was my safety suddenly not as valued when it came to the Joker.

My stomach rumbled and I looked up for the first time in a while, we should have been close to my apartment.

Except, we weren't. A little trill of fear crept up my spine as I tried to recognise where we were.

"Um…excuse me sir?" I sat forward in my seat and tapped the driver on the shoulder "I think you missed my street..." For a moment the man was still and my heart leapt into my throat. Was this it? Had I been stupid and blind enough not to notice I'd already been stolen away?

Then the man jumped slightly and glanced at me in the rear-view mirror. He had a nice face, brown eyes and curly hair. I tried to smile at him, very sure I must have looked horrible, and still feeling like I should be getting ready to throw myself out of the cab.

"O' sorry, miss, ya haven't piped up in a bit, though' I'd just concentrate on the road." He threw me a sympathetic look and rubbed his neck. "I'm taking a longer route around to avoid the Friday night traffic. I shoulda asked you 'fore I started out."

I shook my head and glanced out the window, feeling a sudden whoosh of relief as he pulled into a street I recognised. Of course, calm down Kate. Just a normal taxi driver on a normal, busy, Friday night.

I made myself a new rule though, as I stared out the window at the familiar buildings rushing by. Rule 1: No getting into taxi's anymore without checking the driver. I was pretty sure there was a way you could check if the taxi you were getting into was a real one. There had to be.

I was considering this rule thoughtfully when we pulled up at a red light, I'd have to do some research and figure out how to make my new Rule work. I slumped back in my seat. Maybe I should start making up more rules.

Maybe I should learn how to protect myself.

Maybe I should buy a taser. A big one I could beat people with when the stun ran out.

I was trying to figure out where someone would actually buy a taser when three people moved in front of the taxi, pausing in the headlights. The light changed to green and the driver swore under his breath, beeping his horn.

After a moment I leant forward so I was perched between the drivers and front passenger seats and watched the little group. It was unusual to see people at this back road intersection. It wasn't really a pedestrian crossing and it was too late for people in this neighbourhood to be wandering around. They were huddled into one another, but one was waving his arms around like they were in the middle of a very heated discussion.

I narrowed my eyes at the one throwing his hands about. He had his back to the car but there was something familiar about his suit and in this light, his hair almost looked…

I unclipped my seatbelt and lent further forward.

...Green.

The driver slammed his hand on the horn again just as a scream burbled itself up my throat. I wanted to reach out and tell him not to, to just put his foot on the gas, but I never had the time to say the words as the man in the headlights swung around to face the car, levelled a gun at the drivers side and pulled the trigger.

I screamed as the deafening BANG of the gun exploded around me and warm red liquid splattered across my arm and face. Scurrying back into the back seat I reached for the door handle, yanking it open and coming face to face with a yellowed smile and sunken black eyes.

"Hey there Katey Kate Kate!"

I tried to scream again, tried to throw myself away from him towards the other door but his hands shot out and caught me by the neck, a cold metal barrel pressing hard into my forehead.

"Now, now poo, none of that, what would the neighbours think?" His light and cheerful tone stung my ears and I whimpered, blinking through a fresh batch of tears as he cackled and tapped the barrel of the gun against my head. Slowly, he unhooked his long fingers from around my neck. "Come, come, I don't have all day, scoot over." I did as I was told, shifting in the seat until the Joker had enough room to slip in beside me.

"You know Mista J, we coulda just made one of the boys drive the taxi, then there wouldn't be all this icky blood!" I wiplashed my head around at the light droll tone coming from the front seat and stared at the woman trying to shift the now limp body of the driver out of the car. I knew her. She was Harley Quinn, the Jokers Hench girl.

Last I heard she was still in Arkham.

She was pouting, her eyebrows furrowed over her big baby blues as she continued to try and haul the man out from behind the wheel. I felt hysteria rise in my throat and tried to force it down. They'd just killed a man, he was dead, the driver was dead and she was talking about his icky blood. They had me now, and soon I would be dead too. Would she complain about my blood? I whimpered.

"Shut up and drive!" The Joker hissed, and I was suddenly aware of how close his mouth was to my ear. Harley huffed but did as she was told, finally managing to tip the driver out and slip into the drivers seat, muttering something about how she'd never get the blood out of her costume. Behind me, someone else got into the car and I glanced at him. He was huge, a burley man with a painted white face that barley fit through the door.

Harley revved the engine and slammed her foot on the gas pedal, forcing me back into my seat with the g-force and running the newly red light.

There was silence in the car for a while, the only sound was my hyperventilating and the roar of an engine going far to fast. I finally managed to push out what I deemed to be an important question.

"Are you going to kill me?" I turned so I could get a better look at the Joker, only realising this was a bad idea when his eyes met mine and I was again forced to realise just how close he was sitting to me. He grinned and slung his free arm around my shoulder, the gun still pressed to my temple.

"Well now, that all depends on how good you are."

I felt the blood drain from my face and closed my eyes. It was strange, now this situation was upon me…I was scared, yes, but part of me felt oddly…static. Like when you turn on an un-tuned TV and you get all those ants and fuzz on your screen. My brain had turned into an un-tuned TV. I couldn't even begin to conjure what 'being good' meant to the Joker.

I slowly began to come up with some idea's that made my blood chill, but my train of though was cut off as we squealed around a corner too fast and the car sat up on its two right side wheels. I felt myself being thrown to the side, right into the Joker, and the breath being knocked out of me at the impact. I was half sprawled across the seat as the car dropped back onto four wheels and I let out a wheezing gasp, faintly noticing the cackling in my ear and the two horribly skinny arms curled around me.

"Awwww, Katey-baby! Never knew you cared!" Joker laughed a high pitch laugh and I winced as one of his arms moved to catch me in a headlock. "Well now! Shall we get on with business?"

I reached up and hooked my hands over his arm, trying to pull it away from my neck so I could breath better, this proved a stupid thing to do because it only made him tighten his hold.

"Don't struggle poo, or I'll have to get Buck here to properly restrain you." Joker chucked and I stilled as the menacing goon in the seat next to me grinned. "Now…you and I are going to make a family video!" He smoothed the gun down my cheek then barked an order at his henchgirl "Harley! Where's the camera!" Harley took another corner too fast before throwing a scared look the rear view mirror.

"I though' you had it puddin'." She squeaked.

There was a moment of tense silence and I could feel the arm around my neck tightening. The gun moved from my head and I couldn't stop a scream as Joker pulled the trigger and the deafening sound again filled the car. Eyes wide, I watched the windscreen split and spider web out from where the second bullet of the night had wizzed through it, narrowly missing Harley Quinns headrest. Harley squeaked and ducked her head as the Joker hurled a long list of obscenities at her. All the while I could hear her shrieking that she was sorry.

Then Jokers yelling subsided after a moment and there was another pause before his arm loosened and his laughter filled the car.

"Oh! I forgot! I gave it to Buck!" Joker grinned and brandished his gun around. I sucked in a much needed breath as 'Buck' nodded slowly, producing a small video camera. "Turn it on! Press the button that does the thing and makes the light go red."

Buck looked perplexed for a moment as he just held the camera in his overly large hands. If I wasn't in a headlock with a gun to my head I would have laughed at the fact that there was someone in the city below the age of 50 that couldn't operate a video camera. But I was, so I didn't.

Instead, I just half lay there. Crying. Feeling like the situation was so horribly lost it couldn't get worse. Then it did. Joker sighed dramatically and tapped the gun barrel to my neck 'hmmming'

"Haaarrllleeeeeey!" I jumped at his sudden outburst from The Joker and heard Harley squeak.

"Yessir?" She was throwing quick petrified looks into the rear view mirror. I couldn't blame her for her fear, despite the fact she had signed up for this. The windshield of the car was getting worse with every bump we hit, and every pothole shattered the glass further.

"Turn on the camera!" Harley 'eep'ed and shook her head at Jokers sharp instruction.

"But…but Mista J, I'm driving" She made a reasonable point. Joker frowned and 'hmm'ed again, tapping the gun harder against my neck.

"No excuse…but fine! Kate! Camera!"

I stared up at him blankly, still gripping his arm and trying to see through my tears. I wished I could stop crying.

"W…hat?" I gasped. He sighed and his face contorted in something akin to distaste.

"Turn…the…camera…on." He growled, each word enunciated with a hard vocal bite and a jab in the head with his gun. I swallowed thickly and nodded. I wasn't about to argue with him, he'd turned his gun on his girlfriend, what was there to stop him actually killing me with it? I reached out my hands and took the camera Buck had extended to me. I could barley see through the tears still trickling down my face and it took me a few tries to find the right buttons and start the thing recording, my hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped it once or twice too.

"Well?" Jokers impatient voice hummed in my ear and I could feel his breath on my cheek "Is it on?" His arm tightened around my neck and I gasped, nearly dropping the camera again as my hands involuntarily tried to jump back to his arm. He was squeezing tighter than he had the entire car ride and I felt myself begin to panic as my lungs started screaming.

"Yes!" I gasped, thrusting the camera back to Buck before grabbing at the Jokers arm "I…I can't….breath." He just started laughing, the sound even more painful as I struggled against his hold, kicking my legs out desperately trying to gain some leverage against the pressure on my throat.

"Boss…I think you're loosing her." It was the first time Buck had spoken and I could have hugged him for his little intervention. My vision was beginning to blur and I was feeling slightly sluggish in my struggle. It didn't help that I had been having trouble crying through my hysteria before, now every little gasp felt like fire in my body.

Then the pressure was gone, I could breath again, and air rushed into my lungs so fast I felt dizzy. I lurched up, only to realise the Joker hadn't actually released me, just shifted his arm slightly so he was gripping me around my shoulders. I was coughing as he dragged me back to him, his lips pulled back into a smile directed at the now recording camera.

"Say cheese, Kate." His voice was dark again, low and rumbling through his chest violently "I want to record something special for our friend Batman."

I shuddered and looked up as his gun tipped my chin back.

"You remember her don't you Bats? She was pretty before, but I think she looks better this way" Joker laughed again and I let out a weak little yelp, struggling against his hold again as he ran his tongue up over my cheek. He hmmmed and I felt the car swerve a little. He shot a look to the front seat and the car evened out again. Then he addressed the camera again "Blood is defiantly her colour."

I'd nearly forgotten the blood, the drivers blood. I was covered in a mans blood.

The hysteria clawing through my chest burst out then and I started struggling frantically, screaming and lashing my arms and legs out in every direction I could make them go. I didn't care about the gun anymore. It didn't matter. He was going to shoot me anyway, so why should it matter?

I was so frantic I barely noticed the sudden crash of the windscreen shattering completely, and Harley Quinns screams as she was yanked through the broken glass by a dangerous looking black arm. But I did defiantly notice when the handbrake was pulled on, because I went flying forward into the back of the front seats, my whole body slamming hard to the floor of the taxi as the momentum of the car ended.

The gun went off somewhere above me and I snapped my hands over my head, screaming and crying and trying to make myself as small as possible. The gun kept firing, and in amongst the constant hard beats of the gun blast came Jokers frantic laughter.

Then it went quiet. Everything was still and so very very quiet. I didn't move, I curled up there, on the floor and just stayed still. I could still hear myself whimpering and sobbing, and part of me knew I was lying on glass fragments from the windscreen. If I just stayed there, it would all go away, this would all go away if I just stayed still. Just stay still Kate, don't move. Just don't move.

A hand touched me, I know it was a hand because fingers curled gently around my arm. I screamed, loud and so harsh it hurt my throat and I threw myself away from the touch, just screaming into the quiet. I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to see. I didn't want to know. The taxi doors were obviously open because as I tumbled backwards I fell the short distance to the road. I flipped myself onto my hands and knees and scurried desperately away from the taxi, trying to stand as I moved. I stumbled to my feet eventually, but I barley took my first step before someone caught me around the waist. I screamed again, trying to push out of their grasp. I was so, so desperately scared.

"Kate!" The voice was different, lower, softer. It didn't matter who the voice belonged to though. I kept struggling, kept screaming. Surely someone would hear me, surely someone would help me. "Kate! Its ok!"

"No!" I kicked out, hitting at the arms around my stomach and trying to land a decent blow to my new captors legs.

"Kate! You're safe! Its ok!"

My captor released me and grabbed my shoulders, turning me around so quickly I got dizzy. "Open your eyes Kate, look at me" I slammed my hands out, trying to push away.

"No! Don't touch me!" A strong hand caught my wrists while an arm hooked around my waist and pulled me to a hard body, immobilising me almost completely.

"Look at me Kate!"

I let out a strangled sob and stopped struggling, opening my eyes slowly to reality. I looked up, and found two black glass eyes staring back at me. Batman. It was Batman.

More relief than I could handle flooded me as I stared up at him, and suddenly I was just so tired. I felt my legs give out from under me, and let him support my weight as I stood there, crying into his cape.

I stared down at the cuffs on the dusty ground of the cellar and rubbed my wrists. The nails were a little too big, but the lock had been picked so many times it didn't take much to hit the sweet spot. I stretched my arms out and took a deep breath.

I remembered that night so clearly. I remember clinging to Batman like he was a lifeline, gripping his cape so tightly my hands went numb. I remembered being carried to a police cruiser and driven to the Gotham police department to give a statement with Commissioner Gorgon holding my hand the entire time. I remember not being able to say much.

I still couldn't say much about that night. It was hard, harder than a lot of the following kidnappings and attacks. I think because it was the first. The terror had been so hard to deal with when you'd never had to suffer it before.

Now terror was something I could force into a little black hole at the corner of my mind and deal with later.

I leant my head back against the brick wall behind me and sighed. The Jokers attack that night had been sloppy, rushed. I had been lucky Batman had caught up with the Taxi so fast after I had stormed out. I hadn't felt lucky though, the bruises around my neck had lasted weeks and the glass cuts stung so badly when I showered I often debated not bothering.

But the funny thing was. For all the terror, the hysteria and the horror of the attack and the press that came after, the main thing I remember from that night was Batman holding me just as tightly as I was clinging to him.

I remember his grip, and I remember his muttering he was sorry.

The light outside the door flickered and I tensed, sitting up on my knees and pushing back into the wall. I'd relied on Batman back then, I'd been a mess in need of saving. But not anymore, I'd taken care of myself before. I could do it again now.

I took a deep breath as the light flickered off completely as I was left in the pitch-blackness.

I would be fine. I knew how to help myself now. Perk up.

Authors Notes: I'm playing around with how to properly write emotions into a character and develop them through traumatic experiences. A friend of mine is studying psychology and she keeps going on about how it annoys her when people sort of bypass or angst up what happens to people when they suffer horrible things, so I better get this right or she'll personally flame me...lots...please help me not be real life flamed.

P.S this is not an angst story...I will work very hard to avoid 'gloom cookieness' (gloom cookie...that's just so awesome)

Please Read and Review, It makes me smile.