Albert Stein was not what he once was. At the age of fifty two he had high blood pressure, he was too heavy and his doctor was on him about being pre-diabetic. He was divorced and his daughter Kelly didn't seem too interested in a lot of contact; he had been too worried about work and not enough about what was important. Still, he had once been a tough son of a bitch. He had won more then he lost in the ring but had led with his chin more then he should. Now, he sat on a plane in his cramped little seat and watched a chalk white, leering lunatic pace the aisle and rant.

Joker held a cylinder in his left hand, his thumb poised close to the button and in his right a handgun. Albert watched carefully and thought hard about what the madman was doing. He wouldn't want to just kill them all unless he had an exit planned. From all Albert had read and heard about the Joker, he was not suicidal. He would only use the obvious bomb as a last resort. The gun he had already used twice. At least no one was dead yet.

Albert glanced carefully to where Joker stood, a row behind him and saw a young girl. She was trembling in her seat and her face was crumpled in as if she desperately wanted to cry but was afraid to. She looked like Kelly; same age, same hair, same kind of clothes. That girl looked just like Kelly and the Joker wasn't suicidal . He leaned forward in his seat and half groaned, half growled.

Joker turned at the sound, as Albert had hoped, and even with the blood pressure and everything else, he moved with surprising speed. Somehow, miraculously, he got his hands on Joker's gun and wrenched it down to point at the floor. The clown began cackling in glee and rained blows down on Albert's head and shoulders with the butt of the detonator. It hurt far more then the worst Albert had ever taken in the ring.

Suffering the pain, Albert clung like a limpet and desperately twisted at the weapon. Through clenched teeth he screamed at the other passengers to get up, to help, to do something. No help came. Joker suddenly dropped the firearm and wrenched at Albert's hold trying to escape. Hoping to surprise the murderer, Albert released his hold and spun around, his feet going into a balanced stance quickly enough that even he was surprised. Joker lifted his arm high to bring the detonator smashing down with killing force and old reflexes took over.

Albert twisted first from his hips and turned his torso and in perfect time, in perfect reflexive form, he threw a right hook with power that came all the way from the ground. It landed full on the pointed chin. Joker's head snapped around and for a second his eyes glazed over. A brief flair of hope spurred Albert on. Joker stopped laughing. His face contorted with rage. Albert moved in to press the attack but it was futile. The clown easily slapped two attempted blows away before snapping out two jabs, faster and harder then Albert had ever seen or imagined. The older man staggered back, falling to his back in the aisle, and in a flash of speed that seemed inhuman, Joker snatched up the gun. For a second they regarded each other and Albert laughed. "Got a good one in, you bastard."

Joker rubbed his jaw. "Yeah, you did," he said and blew Albert Stein's brains all over the floor.

It was only seconds later, seconds that Raven would dwell on, that a dark circle of a portal opened and she hovered through. Changeling jumped from where he had been hanging on her hood in some small form, transforming into a large chimpanzee in the air. Joker saw them and began triggering the detonator. Nothing happened. In the instant of surprise, Gar was on him, flailing away in the wild, looping attacks natural to chimps. Dodging and weaving away, Joker started to bring the gun to bear only to have it snatched from his grip by a black tendril of energy. Joker was forced to step back and defend against Gars attacks. They moved quickly through the first class area and his back finally ran up against the front wall of the cabin. In a nearly hopeless last resort, Joker pulled a thin, wicked blade and went low, stabbing cleanly through thick muscle and twisting with hateful force. Gar screamed in pain and primal rage and struck Joker repeatedly across the face. Bones cracked and blood flew and the clown went down.

Gar fell backwards, going back into his natural form and clutched at his stomach. Rae was there in a second, her healing aura enveloping the wound. "Everyone, out," she snapped at the first class passengers. They bolted back to the coach section. "Flight attendant!" she yelled. "Up here now!"

"Don't be scary, babe," Gar muttered, slurring his words.

"You get a pass on that 'babe' only because you got stabbed," she said. A flight attendant scurried in, her uniform disheveled and her face streaked with tears. "Tell the pilot to wave the wings. Don't ask questions. Do it now." The woman looked as of she were going to say something and Raven barked "Now!" A few moments later, the plane rolled right, then left, then right and Raven's communicator activated.

"Jamming off," Robin's voice came through. "Situation?"

"Joker is down," Rae responded, most of her attention still on Gar's wound. "Changeling was stabbed. I'm seeing to it but he'll need medical."

"Understood," Batman said. "Good work."

"One casualty," she said, her voice almost breaking. "Male, middle aged." She took a deep breath. "Gunshot to the head."

"Yeah," Robin replied. "Yeah… OK."

Gar's pain had considerably lessened and he took her hand, lifting it from his wound and holding it briefly. "I'll be fine, watch him" he said, gesturing towards Joker.

"Yes," Joker hissed out past his broken jaw, "Watch me." He laughed for a moment. "I might do a trick."

Raven's head turned slowly. In the time it took, darkness enveloped her and two violet eyes became four red slits. "Maybe I'll show you a trick or two," said a deep, grating voice. Tendrils of inky black lashed out, holding Joker's arms and legs at full extension and one wrapping around his face, twisting the bones together in a way that would have made any normal person howl. Joker just laughed harder. "Tell me," she growled as she floated up to put her face directly in his. "Tell me why." She released his jaw so he could speak.

"Shits and giggles, little girl," Joker said. "Though I bet if you look, several entrepreneurs of my acquaintance will have found Bat's time away very profitable. What with Bane and Croc making so much noise at the same time." He giggled for a moment. "I turned a few bucks on the deal myself."

Even with her demon so present, Raven went cold. "You mean that coming to our town. Killing all those children. All that… evil and bedlam and chaos was a distraction… just so you and all your filthy friends could make some money?"

Joker shrugged as best he could while so restrained. "I'm a business man after all."

"Why us?" she grated out. She felt Gar's hand on her shoulder and he said something but she ignored it. "Why did you target us?"

"You two?" Joker asked, looking honestly confused. "No one cares about you two. I was hoping bird boy would be there." He cocked his head at her. "You thought I was coming after you two?" He lapsed into gales of mad laughter that didn't stop until Raven choked him into unconsciousness. Her demonic aspect still upon her, she looked at his still form on the floor and began to lean down.

"Rae," Gar said sharply. "Look at me." When she didn't turn, he raised his voice. "Raven! I listened to you and didn't kill him! Now you listen to me!" Slowly, reluctantly, she turned. "Bring it down," he said softly. "Come back to me." Slowly, the dark aura dissipated and the red eyes faded out.

Now herself, Raven fell to her knees and gasped for breath. "It was all just nothing," she said. "It all meant nothing... not to him or anyone else." Gar fell to his knees and held her. "It was just..."

"Madness," Gar said.

"He deserves to die," she whispered.

"I know."