Chapter 7
Walmart

"Hey, look at that."

"What?"

"The sign says there's a Walmart off the next exit."

Bruce hums. "We can buy a GPS, thank god." In addition to that, it gives the guy a chance to stretch his legs. They're in North Carolina and he's been driving for the last however many hours since The Incident, and the Joker couldn't possibly expect him to go on for much longer without some sort of break.

Then again, that's entirely possible.

Bruce follows the directions on the signs to get to their newest detour; it's taking them about twenty minutes out of their way, but they'd quickly make up the lost time once they have something else to lead them down to Georgia than just a damn piece of printer paper.

He could not believe that the Joker never got his hands on a GPS.

He could not believe that the Joker, of all people - mastermind, grade-A criminal who escapes out of Arkham Asylum just as often as he ties his shoes - would do something so common as go on the computer and print out a physical list of directions, more importantly.

When they pull into the parking lot of Walmart - more like a desert oasis, Bruce thinks to himself, which is weird because he's never considered himself to be the poetic type - the Joker bosses him around to an empty spot.

In the car next to them sits a dog and a little girl with blonde pigtails playing on a hand-held gaming system that lights up her whole face in the dusk light.

The gun has been put away, at least.

"Uh, I'll wait in the car. Here ya go." The clown shoves the wad of money into his captor's hands, and it's the first time he's seen it since that stop at the gas pump. Just as Bruce cuts the engine and is getting out of the car, though, a hand goes flying out to catch his attention. "Wait! Shit I forgot, you're famous." He pauses to search around in the back of the car, then moments later produces a dark blue hat out to him. "Wear it."

"I was gonna eat it," he replies snarkily, shoving the cap onto his head.

As Bruce walks into the store, he keeps his head down and his pace slow to avoid suspicion.

He's roaming down the aisles, absently looking at bath towels and soap containers because who knows, maybe they'll need them for something sometime down the line, and Bruce doesn't even care how absurd he's sounding.

Maybe they'll need the birthday cards, or a new shirt, or those delicious looking cupcakes out on display along the main aisle. Definitely the cupcakes, he decides.

As he walks some more around the store, he starts to wonder how long the Joker plans on holding him hostage.

As far as he knows, the clown only wants him there to get to Jonathan Crane, but, what happens after they find him? What will happen to him once this road trip is over? Will the Joker do something to disable the tracking device? How much will it hurt to get the tracking device out? Will he even be able to get back to Gotham? Will the Joker decide to kill him anyway?

All those questions are nearly giving him an aneurysm, oh my god.

So Bruce does his best to push the questions from his mind... What was he in here to get, again?

He makes a really sharp turn when he remembers where the electronics department is located, looking rather proud of himself.

When he gets there, he heads straight to the GPS's, not really in the mood to be wasting any more time.

Amongst various other brands, he picks out the best, most expensive GPS the store carries - Magellan - because if he's going to be lost in a different state with that piece of shit waiting out in the parking lot, he's going to do it in style.

It's his money, anyway.

Just as he's about to leave the electronics, he spots some of those phones with prepaid minutes, that come in the plastic. He's picking one of them up before he thinks it through, because this could be a way out.

Or, at least, if he didn't want the Joker tracking down his ass and killing him, to talk to Alfred. Let him know he's okay.

He finds his eyes starting to droop heavily as he makes his way up to the cash registers, carrying two armfuls of items. It's not even that late; it's around eight at night, but with all that's happened to him thus far, he's not too surprised.

The Joker took him around, what, six in the morning? And they're already in North Carolina. It's already been like fourteen and a half hours or something.

He's tired.

He ends up grabbing a few bags of chips along with some sodas from a mini-fridge up by the cash registers, too.

He snags a five-hour-energy while he's at it, because he would so rather not fall asleep in the presence of a quite literal madman. Bruce just doesn't trust him, especially not after that little fireworks speech.

After he makes his purchase, he takes his two gray bags into the bathroom and puts them on the floor over by the sinks. He reaches into one of the bags to pull out the cell phone, and starts trying to open the plastic packaging.

When he finally does, he feels like thanking every possible deity ever for this bit of good luck.

He has to do some small, stupid things to verify the phone, but as soon as that's all done he's dialing Alfred by memory.

He hopes that it's the right number.

He casually takes a look around the room as he listens to the dial tone, half-expecting the Joker to come storming in at any second to take away this little refuge, but he wouldn't. The facepaint is too distinctive, he reminds himself. Even without the facepaint, the scars are definitely way too distinctive.

When he reaches Alfred's voicemail, he sighs in frustration. He's pinching the bridge of his nose as he's instructed to leave a message.

"Goddammit. Uh, hi, Alfred. It's Bruce. I'm currently at a Walmart in North Carolina, but I'm safe. Don't worry. I'm- uh- the- the Joker kidnapped me while you went out to get groceries and he's taking me to Georgia. He doesn't know anything yet, but he injected this tracking thing into my arm, so start working on a way to get that out soon. Yeah. But, uh, so far neither of us are dead and I'm fine. I don't know how I'm getting back to-"

And the voicemail thing cuts him off. Son of a...

He dials Alfred's number again.

"Bruce again. I need to figure out how I'm getting back to Gotham. When you get this message, just, start working on a way to find me and get me back. I think we're in Smithfield. We're supposed to be going to Georgia, I forget what town but I'll call you when I can and I'll let you know."

He pauses for a few seconds. Thinks about it. Goes for it. "At least I can fill out that travel checklist you got me, right? Bye. Alfred," he says reluctantly into the phone.

When he hangs up, he hides it in his pocket.

When he makes it back out to the parking lot, getting closer and closer to the grey sedan, somehow he could sense that this bit of normal-ness is about to be short-lived.

He gets to the car, and Bruce wonders just what he must have done in a past life to deserve something like this.

The Joker is harassing the young girl in the car next to them, making faces at her.

What's worse, the kid's making faces back at him, both of them doing increasingly grander gestures to top each other.

Her little dog is jumping around the seats excitedly, and by the time the girl's crossing her eyes, pulling on her ears, and puffing out her cheeks at Bruce's captor, Bruce himself cuts in their line of vision to get into the car.

"Hi," the clown greets him.

He's gotten used to it by this point, and doesn't even bother to comment on what the hell was just going on, and Bruce acts totally unimpressed. He throws the two bags into the Joker's lap, staring at him with a weird look.

This thing in the passenger seat next to him can't possibly be the same guy who blew up an entire hospital just to get one person, to prove that he's not the battiest bat in the belfry. It can't possibly be the same guy who terrorizes Gotham on a weekly basis just to play games with Batman.

It can't possibly be the same guy who's currently on his way to Georgia to get a new chemical weapon to - he's guessing - further terrorize his city.

There is just no way.

But it is.

When Bruce pulls out of their spot, the clown turns to sticks up his middle finger back at the kid. Bruce can see her from the mirror, and she looks entirely scandalized.

He feels terrible about it, but he laughs along with the Joker until they get on the highway once again.

At least they're getting along.