Hey all - here's a quick filler chapter. It's been forever since I wrote for this story, so I figured starting with a filler might be the best way to get back into the grove. So here's a short look into a couple of our clowns. Alright, I wont hold you. Please excuse any grammatical or typo errors.

The Ditch

Chapter Nine

Heathens

Commissioner Gordon stood in the snow engulfed back alley of a nearby police station, looking into the armored transport vehicle in front of her through furrowed brows once the final detainee had been loaded inside and taken their seat. "Congratulations gentlemen-," the Commissioner announces to the only four cuffed teens with painted faces inside, "-on booking a first class trip to Blackgate Penitentiary. I sarcastically hope you find its amenities satisfying; after all, you twips are going away for a long time for what you did…" Barbara noted the shock on some of their faces at the revelation of where they were going; some of shock, others of mild annoyance. Either way, it was plain to see that none of them were rather fond of this idea. That was enough to make her sleep well at night.

"Blackgate?" whispers the buck toothed, nerdy clown known amongst his comrades as Jig. His hands began to shake exceedingly so with fright at her new information, and Barb almost felt a twinge of sympathy for the misled crook.

Almost. "That's right, Mr. Kevin Matthews," answered back the senior woman alongside a sigh of relief.

Jig's older twin, Jag, narrowed his eyes at her reply – the most composed of them all – and scoffed as the lad raised a leg defiantly onto the metallic bench he sat on despite orders from the officers commanding him not to make any sudden moves. "You've gotta be shitting me, Gordon. We're minors, remember?" sassed the twisted counterpart. "Stop with the scare tactics. You and I both know the most you can do is admit us to juvie."

This one had a certain attitude that Barbara wasn't particularly fond of; so it was fairly obvious just how much she enjoyed knocking the kid down a few pegs by proving him wrong. "Under normal circumstances, you'd be correct Devin," agreed Gordon as a soft smirk tugged at the corner of the woman's lips – a mild glint of amusement flashed in her wrinkled eyes. "Thankfully for the people of Gotham – and unfortunately for you – you're being tried as adults and get to experience the grandeur of walking into Blackgate. You should feel honored. Any Jokerz that makes it in Blackgate has quite the rep…if they live long enough to keep it up."

This wasn't possible. "Tried as adults for what?" Teaser smacks his lips before leaning back arrogantly against the van's interior and closed his black lined eyes. "We ain't do nothin', Commish."

Barb raises a brow. "Oh? That's not what I heard," Barbara countered, pulling her hands out of her pockets. "You guys and your little drugged up girlfriend have been very busy tonight." Gordon begins counting on each finger: "Driving while intoxicated, drug possession, endangerment, robbery, battery, civil unrest, and my personal favorite-," adds the retired Batgirl with an all knowing smirk, "-murder."

With the inability to stomach this much further, Bullhorn leapt to his feet with widened eyes, and the gathered officers unholstered their guns and took aim as Jag immediately slipped out of his uncaring façade and sincerely tried to calm the growingly frantic giant. "We didn't kill no one!" he shouted.

"Bullhorn!" cautioned Jag, grabbing the friend's wrist and pulling down gently. "Mikey!" Jag commanded. Bullhorn froze, suddenly snatched back to his senses as he looked down at Jag with a terrified expression. Jag sighed and once again gently pulled down – this time the giant following suit and taking a silent seat. Despite the obvious strength difference, a blind man could see that Jag served as a symbol of will for the big guy. Gordon made a note of that, deciding for the sake of the soft Bullhorn that she'd give explicit orders not to separate the two. Big and cuddly didn't survive where they were going – and quite frankly, she needed them to survive…at least for a little while, if possible. Barb knew this decision was pushing the envelope to the burning point, but for now it was her best option.

Still, with the situation getting once more under control Barbara shrugged her shoulders. "Technically speaking: you did. She died. The Batman just so happened to revive her. Buuuut, if you just want to shave a couple years off your sentences-."

"SENTENCES?!" shrieked Bullhorn with sweat pouring from his brow in panic; though his outburst was far less than from before this time.

"-I guess we could call it attempted murder. Either way," states the Commissioner as she turns her back to the group and prepares to head back inside the building, "you won't be out strolling my streets for a long, long time." Well, at least the majority of them. She knew all too well after a psychological evaluation was completed on these clowns, at least two of them would get lesser sentences in juvie. Barbara huffed as the sound of the transport vehicle's doors slamming shut rang in the background. The wind sliced at the older woman as she looked just once over her shoulder, watching the van pull out of the alley and around the corner until it had disappeared out of sight. Somehow, she couldn't shake a disturbing feeling in her gut that this was far from over. Maybe it was paranoia – or maybe it was the result of her days as Batgirl protecting the streets of Gotham and the world alongside the original Dark Knight springing forth in warning. Whatever it was, when it came to worrying, Barbara was never wrong…

In the late hours of the night, the van lumbered cautiously through the snow covered roads of Gotham city as its rear inhabitants sat in silence – counting each flash of light that whizzed by, or listening to the other cars that passed, or imagining they weren't even here right now in the first place. Teaser clenched his fists in irritation, tugging needlessly against the restraints constricted around the leader's wrists with quick jerks of frustration. They just had to stop at the food spot. If the rest of those idiots had just listened to him in the first place they would've been on the other side of Gotham by the time the Bat showed up. They never would've been caught. The bitch in the ditch might have died before the group could double back around to play with her – but that surely was a better option than being sent to mother fucking Blackgate. That penitentiary was no damn joke. It wasn't just a prison – it was a vacation hell for Gotham's top criminals. It was no Arkham Asylym from back in the day, but its name was enough to make lower level criminals such as himself nearly wet themselves with fear.

Commissioner had been right: there were Jokerz in Blackgate – but those weren't just your average clowns. They were heads. Monsters. Worshippers of the original Joker's system of tyranny and sadistically cruel humor. Teaser and his goons weren't even on the same level as those loons' piss. The leader was a fighter – and a little fucked up in the head himself – and was sure that for a short time he might be able to hold his own in the pen…but the keyword there was short time. After all, the Jokerz heads weren't the only dangerous beasts inside of Blackgate. There were even some inside far worse than they were. Shit. Teaser clenched his fists and let out a growl before slamming a foot against the metallic floor angrily, earning a raise of the brow from Jag as the other two sat in solemn silence. Just what the hell was Gordon doing this for? Even with their crimes, they still should've been sent to juvie or a regular state jail at the most to await trial. Not that hell hole. So why?

The answer became vaguely clear to one of the crew members: Devin Matthews, aka Jag. While the twin teen clown wasn't knocking the seriousness of this problem that he and his gaggle were currently in, the boy had been able to configure a potential reasoning behind a measure as drastic as being imprisoned at Blackgate.

Information. The way he figured it: the Commissioner thought there was something the Jokerz gang knew that could prove beneficial to her and Gotham law enforcement somehow. And he was pretty sure she was right. But there had been one problem in Gordon's pursuit of this info; one perhaps she had not expected or prepared for. A majority of the teen clown collectives of Gotham were soft, lily-livered, scaredy cats – Jokerz in name only. They would rat one another out in a heartbeat to save their own skin.

This group, however, was different. Much different. Unlike their wanna-be-funny brothers and sisters, some of the members in this group were actually disturbed in the head. Jag himself, TeeHee, and Teaser enjoyed stirring up trouble. Even more than that, all of them knew how to keep their mouth shut no matter the consequences – whether pertaining to personal group business, or the Jokerz institution as a whole. Jag snorted in realization: Gordon couldn't get them to spill any details, so instead she was hoping to break them behind the walls of Blackgate. Part of him wanted to say her attempts were in vain; that they'd all die before betraying the Jokerz that nursed and made them…but the twin wasn't stupid enough to completely ignore the situation he and the others were in. This was Blackgate. Even the criminally insane could break in this place…How else was Mad Stan able to get crazier and crazier every time he escaped? For the first time Jag questioned his mental fortitude. He-.

There was a sound of screeching tires as the van lurched from a fierce crash, sending the police vehicle spinning wildly for a moment before righting itself and suddenly speeding off. Voices hollered out from the front of the transport unit, yelling into their radios that they were under attack as gunfire rang out all around them, bouncing off the bulletproof interior. Bullhorn pulled his large body into a ball as Jag's nerdy brother Jig cried out, demanding to know what was going on. Teaser braced himself on the floor and smirked lightly. Car horns blared and faded as the transport whizzed and dodged from lane to lane until, with a rough throw and explosion of sound and black smoke, the van suddenly threw itself forward and up – causing it's captive inhabitants to go flying through the air with a cry before everything crashed all around them, and the world briefly grew black.

Once the ringing in Teaser's ears died down, he was able to hear the sound floored tires and metal concaving, bending, forcing against itself, coming from the back of the truck. Dulled voices shot outside followed by more gunfire and finally the metal tore apart and the bright street lights flooded the inside of the van – allowing Teaser to see that not only had the body of the transport suffered heavy damage physically, but also that it was upside down. As if by instinct, the passengers, with groans of discomfort and shock, managed to climb their way outside of the back doors covered in scrapes and bruises, shredded fabric and blood, met with the sight of a wrangled, painted Jeep with a black wire coming out of some contraption on its hood. The wire danced through the snowy road and ended at the mouth of a large grappling hook of some kind that was penetrated fully through what remained of the sealed transport doors sprawled about in the snow.

"ALEX!" cried out a feminine voice. Teaser straightened up and smiled as Tee Hee (fully sober) jumped out of the jeep and came dashing through the snow before leaping into his arms, her legs tying themselves around his waist. The icy wind danced through her curly, shoulder blade-length blonde hair intimately as if celebrating their reunion. She kissed his neck, leaving a plum purple lipstick stain there for all to see.

"Jess…" Teaser sighed in relief as she released her legs from him, and the teen male pulled her close. He ran a hand along the girl's jawline and for the first time tonight, his eyes actually mirrored affection for something other than someone else's suffering. "You okay, best fiend?"

TeeHee smirked at her nickname and hugged him again. "Fine. The cops were going to ruin all the fun and lock me up when these guys," she said motioning for the small group of grinning clowns dressed in some kind of tattered tape against the jeep, "sprung me free. On the night of Initiations, Jokerz are closer to one another than ever." TeeHee snuggled her face against his chest with a wide grin. "They couldn't let us get locked up."

One of the new clowns stepped forward, covered in a body suit that resembled the black wrappings of a mummy which – while similar to those of his crew – differentiated him from the rest. "Me and the boys have been hitting cops with Jokerz all night." He stuck out his tongue in welcoming salute, and Teaser returned the greeting gratefully. "Anyways," continued to leader of the savior faction, "I've got another transport to take out before dawn. But I think you'd be pleased to find that." He points ahead beyond the upside down transport where the gang's truck was making its way up the highway through oncoming traffic. As it came to sliding halt, Teaser raised his hands in exaltation and dashed off for the truck with a giggle of maddened glee.

Jig, Jag, TeeHee and Bullhorn made their way after their leader with the mummified Jokerz following behind them. As the group passed the front of the police van, Jag looked down and saw what remained of the officers transporting them to Blackgate: the male was outside of the truck in the snow with multiple holes dripping with blood leaking across his body into the freezing white. The woman was headfirst hanging partially outside of the smashed windshield on her back, eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape while shards of various sized glass pieces decorated her body as the streams of red stretched and danced across her lifeless frame. Jag couldn't help but think to himself how beautiful she looked; more so, how beautiful unexpected, and playful death, looked on a woman's delicate body.

Once the liberated group climbed inside of their ride, their rescuer leaned into the driver's window and looked Teaser directly in the eye. "Uncle Bamm Bamm heard about how you and your guys kept your traps shut – even when Gordon stepped in. He appreciated that kind of loyalty beyond words and figured the best way to show it was to set you free; whiiiiiile killing a few cops in the process."

Uncle Bamm Bamm was one of the Jokerz heads that wasn't currently locked up. He oversaw a number of smaller factions along Gotham's Harbor and was a total nutcase. Most teens thought he was a ghost because very few people saw him – and the ones who did were either loyal enough not to brag…or were no longer existent. "Thanks," Teaser said simply with a nod of the head.

The mummy nodded back before tapping the hood of the truck and going back towards his own goons as Teaser set the car in gear, spun around, and took off down the highway like a bat of out of hell. The car erupted in cheers of joy and praise at the face of their victory and rescue before Teaser raised a hand to shush them. "Alright, here's the deal," he began to explain with a serious tone that got them immediately attentive. "We can't go back home. Commissioner Gordon knows our names. And with those cops dead she'll be out for blood. If not ours, then the names of whoever are responsible. We've got to go back to the Fort – lay low for a while."

"What about that bitch in the ditch?" growled TeeHee from the passenger seat. "I doubt she's just going to let us go. As long as she wants us as badly as Gordon does, we're screwed." Silence filled the truck for a while as they thought about that. She was right. Chances were that their victim wouldn't just up forget about what they put her through. With the cops knowing their true identities, the teens were no longer part-time clowns…And as wacko as they were, none of them particularly liked the idea of really being wanted by the law.

"Then maybe," offered Jag from the backseat with a hiss, "we just need to change to her mind…"

To be continued…