"Welcome home, son."
Dick stumbled forward towards the door, the light blinded his unadjusted eyes. A hand pulled on his arm and lead him into the hallway. Dick's eyes burned from the harsh light —in all actuality, the bulbs were about to expire. He was guided to a new room, a cell like his but cleaner. There was a single, bare lightbulb that hung in the middle of the room, a twin bed with hospital sheets, an open toilet and sink in the corner, and a small writing desk. Dick's pupils began to allow the light from the room in and things became clearer. The Joker stood before him with a pile of clothing neatly folded in his hands.
"I was jealous that Batsy had all these cute little proteges running around while I was stuck with Harley." The madman handed Dick the clothing
"I decided to take on my own apprentice, you know, keep the trade going. Since you were Batsy's first, I thought you'd be my first as well, Boy Blunder." A sharp cackle erupted from his red lips. The Joker turned and left, leaving the door open behind him.
"Get changed and meet me in the common area." The green-haired villain called behind him. Dick slipped the white button-up shirt on over his bare chest, followed with the purple suit jacket. Dick continued to dress in the matching purple suit pants —both the jacket and pants had thin lavender pinstripes— and black dress shoes. All of the clothing was tailored to his body and his shoes fit perfectly. How the Joker got his measurements, Dick wasn't sure he wanted to know. A hairbrush on the sink caught Dick's eye. He brushed his matted hair with difficulty. Once he finished, the teen cautiously followed the direction of his captor. The hallway was lined with about 20 cells, 10 on each side. The end of the hall opened into a renovated lobby, the windows and doors were boarded up. In the center of the room was a large couch, a coffee table, and a projector sitting on a small stand. A live feed of the security cameras surrounding the building was projected on a large white sheet hanging in front of the couch. The Joker let out a whistle of approval. He strode up to Dick and unbuttoned the first 3 buttons on the younger's shirt.
"Much better. You've got some good assets, show them off, Birdie." Dick's face flushed, he shifted from foot to foot with discomfort. He would feel better in a 2-hour scolding session from Bruce. The maniac led him towards a room off from the common room which was partitioned off by a pair of aluminum swinging doors. An industrial kitchen was behind those doors.
"You must be hungry. Sit," Joker patted the metal countertop.
"Let Uncle Joker make you a snack." Dick did as he was told. He preferred to play it safe around the Joker, he speculated that even the madman himself didn't know what he'd do next. Dick watched as he pulled a plate out of the refrigerator. The teen's stomach clenched when he saw what was on the plate.
"I'll make you some of that boiled meat you like so much." The psychopath began heating a pot of water. While he waited for it to boil, he busied himself with prying the fingernails from the human hand that laid limp on the dish. He plopped the appendage into the now boiling water and set a timer. Dick stared at the process with owlish eyes. All those plates; he had no clue how many he had eaten. Human meat. Dick had been, without hesitation, consuming human meat. His stomach rolled with disgust. Dick lunged for the trashcan —which was conveniently right next to him. He crashed into the metal can and regurgitated violently. Dick heard a hearty laugh come from the direction of the stove.
"Everyone enjoys a meal until they find out where it comes from." A sharp giggle followed his own remark. Dick's stomach finished its rebellion and the ebony-haired teen sat back trying to catch his breath. The timer dinged as soon as his breathing evened out. The Joker placed the finished meal on the counter where Dick had previously been seated. He lifted the teen and returned him to a seated position on the countertop.
"Go on, eat. I need a strong little birdie to be my protege." Dick did not move. The corner of the Joker's lips sagged into a frown —which was far scarier than his cheek-splitting smile.
"I didn't want to do this, kid." He reached into his coat and removed a gun which he pushed into the back of Dick's head.
"Eat." He ordered sternly. Dick hesitantly took a bite, then another, followed by another mouthful. He cleaned the wristbone as well as the fingers. The muscle of the palm was chewy and disgusting. Dick strongly preferred the raw cat guts at the moment. The gun was not lowered until Dick had picked the bones clean.
"Good birdie, you ate it all!" The Joker returned the gun to his pocket and disposed of the trash. He motioned for Dick to reenter the common area. The madman plopped down on the couch and patted the floor beside him.
"Here," Dick reluctantly knelt to the right of the Joker's legs. A gloved hand combed through his dirty locks of midnight hair. The fingers scratched soothingly at his scalp and gently unknotted tangles in this hair. Dick felt himself relax, he hadn't had human contact in so long. His eyelids drooped as he began to drift off. It was so strange, the Joker seemed like a sane, normal human being. While he stroked Dick's hair, the clown simply watched the live security feeds. Dick slipped into a much-needed sleep, his head resting gently on the Joker's lap.
Dick awoke to the sound of struggling. The teen lept from his lying position on the couch —the Joker must have moved him while he was asleep— and observed the scene. Joker was dragging a half-conscious thug into the lobby. The thug kicked and shouted to the best of his ability, it seemed as if he was given a sedative. When Joker noticed that Dick was awake, he dropped the thug and skipped over to him.
"Look what I brought you, Birdie. A new toy!" The maniac dragged Dick by the arm to get a better look at his "toy."
"I found this bad man beating on some lady. We can have all the fun with this worthless scum as we want." The Joker laughed maniacally and kicked the drugged man.
"What do you mean 'we?'" Dick's voice was raspy from disuse.
"So you can talk!" The Joker cackled then resumed his previous activity —which was much easier now that the thug was unconscious.
"Let's call it, Bonding Time." He answered Dick's question with a dark grin. Shivers through Dick's bones, he didn't want to know what that meant.
"Help out Uncle J, kiddo." Dick reluctantly lifted the thug's legs up off the ground. The duo carried him into one of the cells.
"Now comes the setup. Follow me, Birdie," the Joker led Dick into a small cell next to his new room. The padded walls were lined with tables covered in various tools. Torture equipment. A monitor displayed camera footage of all the cells, including the one he was originally held in. This whole time, Joker has been getting a kick out of Dick's suffering. He clicked on the square that showed the unconscious thug, he didn't want to think any longer about how the Joker had been watching him the same way. The maniac pulled a metal chair into the center of the room and placed 3 pairs of handcuffs on the seat. What the man planned to do, Dick was petrified to find out. The thug regained consciousness a few hours later, at this, the Joker giggled joyously. He left the room and appeared a few minutes later with a groggy thug in hand. Dick helped cuff his legs to the chair legs while the Joker secured his hands. Had this man been an innocent citizen, Dick would have fought to release him. What was becoming of his line of morality? Dick thought back to the first rodent he killed during his isolation. It was survival of the fittest. This was the same. The thug was the rat and Dick was hungry, this time for justice. The Joker grinned as he watched the wheels in Dick's mind turn. He handed a pocket knife to the teen.
"Go on. Feed your hunger." It was as if the villain had read his mind.
"Tell me about her," Dick commanded, adjusting the weapon in his hand, getting used to its weight and shape.
"About who?" The thug spat, his words slurred slightly by the drugs in his system. Dick pushed the tip of the blade into the man's cheek.
"The woman you were beating on earlier. Tell me why she deserved it." The thug pulled his head away from the knife only to find it back in the same spot, this time pushing with more force.
"She was late on rent and kept begging me to let her keep the apartment until she could get the money," he stammered. Dick's fists clenched, the value of the thug's life had just hit rock bottom. Dick remembered the man who murdered his parents. Dick let loose.