Okay, here is my next little chapter. :)

Thanks to all of my reviewers! You guys make my day! Everytime I see that I have a new review, I get a big grin on my face and look like an idiot as I smile at my computer screen. :)

Thanks again, linnie kinda spinnie, for beta'ing (is that a word?) this chap!

Oh, and if you guys want a real laugh, you should check out this video I found... Probably one of the funniest videos pertaining to TDK I've ever watched. :) just go to youtube, and copy and paste that bit onto the end. :)

watch?v=seBpXt8_6xs

Anyways, as always I sadly still don't own Dark Knight or Batman, or the Joker, blah blah blah. I own Melanie though! She's all mine! muahaha.

Scarecrow half drags me to his car, and I let him do it. It feeds my anger, but I know that he is my only chance, and if I make him too upset or angry, I'll either end up dead or alone. Preferably the latter of the two.

He roughly shoves me in, and closes the door behind him. He starts the car, and we are on our way quickly.

"Where is he?" I ask, trying to keep my voice attractive without too much success.

"The Joker is currently being held at G.C.P.D. They have been trying to find out where he's keeping youuu. They are transferring him to Arkham tonight."

"We will never get inside Arkham." I'm nervous. Even with the gas's boost of self-confidence, I can't lie to myself.

"You never could. But it is easier when you've been there beforrre. " He chuckles darkly. "But we are not going to Arkham. We are going to intercept the transferrr."

That plan does seem to make more sense. I wonder why I didn't think of it before. My vision blurs slightly, and I feel a little dizzy. I put my hand up to my forehead and feel slightly nauseous.

Scarecrow looks over to me and sighs. "It looks like I have morrre to do with this batch." he lifts his arm before he finishes speaking and another puff of white gas surrounds me. I feel the burning in my lungs and try to suppress the intense coughing without success.

My eyes water, and terror begins to grow in the pit of my stomach.

I'm all alone in my former home. My mom has been taken to Arkham, and my father won't answer my calls. I have nowhere to go, and the University has officially dropped me as a student.

My memory is fast-forwarded to a more recent scene. I'm running down the hall away from Bruce Wayne's penthouse. I was only there for a few days, and yet, I had felt peace there. Leaving it was hard in its own abandoning way.

There is a difference between these memories, and the last one that was triggered by the gas. I have slight control. Yes, I am still terrified by the wave of loneliness, and the crushing guilt, but I am aware of myself in the car at the same time.

I almost patiently endure the next few moments, waiting the loneliness out, and feel the energy drain out of me. Within moments, the surge of power hits, and my eyes light up once more.

"Well, that wasn't really as entertaining as the first time." Scarecrow pouts.

"Sorry to disappoint." I snap. I can't really fake the attraction thing for very long, simply because he irritates the crap out of me. That and it's really hard to act for someone wearing a mask.

It's also kind of creepy.

Gotham blurs outside my window, and my mind brings Bruce's image back into focus. It's almost like the gas has a mind of its own, and I am just a host to its demands.

Something doesn't quite sit with me. Or the gas I should say. When Bruce mentioned Joker blowing up a school, I had made the connection, but forgot about it afterwards. Now with my mind clear, I recognize the look on his face as he said it. Guilt. Inward anger, and slight fear.

Fear of what exactly? He was obviously angry with himself for saying something, and probably guilty because of it. But what did he have to fear?

Bruce has a secret. And he's afraid that I'm going to figure it out. Bruce Wayne is afraid of me. The thought makes me smile darkly. It all adds up. He disappears at night. Batman obviously is getting lots of money somewhere for all of his toys, who says it's not from a trust fund and a multi-billion dollar company?

Yes, I think I know what his secret is.

"Focusss!" The Scarecrow jolts me out of my thoughts. "I can't have you daydreaming or fantasizing or whatever when it is time to move."

I ball my fists, and let the comment go for now. The only thing holding my tongue is the instinct of self-preservation.

"Now." He continues, pulling to the side of the road. "The van with the Joker will pass in five minutes exactly."

"Why aren't they using a convoy?" I'm perplexed.

"It's too obvious. Everyone would know who was in it, and it would attract a lot of attention. But they don't need the convoyyy." He twists the word.

I don't need to ask why. The Joker would be plenty protected tonight.

"Batman." I state, hard and flat. The semi-awareness of the gas in my system wriggles with distaste.

"Yesss. He will be close. The little guards are no issue. It's the Bat that we will need to watch out for." Scarecrow looks out the windshield and to the sky. "How do you feel about the Bat right noww?" He asks curiously.

I squint my eyes, and feel the presence shift in distaste. "You read my article didn't you? Gotham doesn't want him. And neither do I." A small part of me disagrees. The part of me that was being over-ridden by the gas and had no say.

I think again of Bruce Wayne. Gotham's little billionaire. My mind clouds in anticipation. Yes, I believe that I know who is going to be watching the Joker tonight, and I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do about it yet.

I'm beginning to figure out the gas's strengths. It seems to thrive on fear. Scarecrow made it so that much is obvious. When I remembered Bruce's face for instance, I saw the fear in his eyes that I had failed to notice before. A small part of me resists and wills me to drop the issue, but I ignore it.

Tonight I'm going to have some real fun.

Scarecrow reaches into a bag, and hands me a small inhaler. "Take thisss." He hisses. "It seems that it doesn't last as long as it should. If you get weak, take some more. But don't take two at onccce."

"Why?" I take the inhaler and turn it over, studying it.

"You would be overcome in hallucinations, and become comatose in moments. It's verrry entertaining to watch, but I can't afford to have you die yet."

I shudder at the image. "Why are you here? Why help me?" I ask.

He reaches over and grabs my hair harshly, pulling me close to his face. "I've already told you it is none of your concerrrn. Do not ask me again. I've already tested my patience with you." He pushes me away and I scowl. I open my mouth to say something when his arm flies up and points out the window. "There they are. Put that away, and get ready"

"What's the plan, exactly?" I ask.

"Distract them. And keep your eye out for the Bat."

I look down and feel a little more frustration. I'm just supposed to sit on the sidelines and get their attention? The gas swirls in rebellion. I know what I'm going to do. And it doesn't involve sitting out.

I grin silently at my new plan, and find a small pocket on my right hip. I unzip it, and put the inhaler inside, but feel something else there as well. It's a small cylinder that feels like plastic. It almost reminds me of a film container. Although I'm curious, there isn't time to open it now.

The blue G.C.P.D. van is only a block away, and Scarecrow starts the car.

"Get out." He says quickly, "And wait for my signal."

I do as he asks, and the cold air makes me shiver. As soon as I close the door, the car leaps forward directly in the path of the van.

The van crushes into the side of the car, hitting the exact place I had just been sitting. The sound of screeching metal and breaking glass is loud, but not overbearing. A moment after the collision, two officers jump out, and walk slowly toward the car with guns drawn.

I don't feel the same worry for Scarecrow as I do toward the Joker, but I do feel unease as I watch the cops walk toward the car. I don't know what to expect, so when the huge plume of white gas envelopes the car, it makes me jump.

The officers are engulfed in the cloud, and I hear them yell out in absolute terror for a moment. Then all is silent, and I turn back to the van. A third officer gets out, and fires his gun into the cloud. He empties his clip quickly, and reaches down to reload. A small canister comes flying out of the cloud, and sits at his feet. He looks panicked for a moment, but relaxes after the can does nothing. He starts to laugh in relief, and looks up.

"Is that all you got?" He asks boldly. "Come out where I can see you with your hands in the air."

He finishes reloading, and I notice the can again. It is releasing white smoke almost delicately, and the officer doesn't notice. After a few moments, he looks over his shoulder quickly. Then back in front of him.

"Where did you go?" He asks, his voice getting high because of stress. "Hello?"

He spins around once more, and starts yelling. He isn't yelling words, but you can tell he is afraid for his life. His eyes open widely, and he begins to whimper like a dog. He begins scratching himself, and screaming. "Get them off me! Get them off!" He spins in one more circle, and falls to the ground. He twitches for a few moments, and then is still.

I am unsure of how to react to the violence in front of me. The small part of me that has resisted my plans is mortified. But her fear just adds to my energy. I take a deep breath in to hone the extra, and freeze. Someone is behind me.

They haven't made the slightest sound, and yet, I can feel their presence. I spin around on my heel, and smile grimly in anticipation. It's Batman.

"Hello, Batman." I say sweetly. "What brings you here?"

"Melanie? Is that you?" He seems surprised.

"Nope. I don't know a Melanie." I mock his voice slightly. "I'm Lane."

He shakes his head. "Melanie, listen. It is important that you come with me. I can help you." His voice is low and gravelly, and really distracting.

"Why are you doing that with your voice?" I ask, tilting my head.

"I don't know what you mean." He says.

"Oh, Bruce. It's alright! You don't have to hide from me!" I smile sweetly again. "Thanks again for helping me feel better. I really appreciate it." Once again the repressed part of me cringes in shame, while the rest of me picks up on the range of emotions going through his eyes. It's hard to read his face while it is covered by the mask, but as my mother used to say, the eyes are windows to the soul.

He just stares at me in shock, and after a moment, he manages to plead, "Melanie.."

"I already told you!" I snap. "My name is Lane!" I'm sick of men calling me different names! Why couldn't they just listen to me?

I turn around and drop in a crouch, evading his attempted grab. I fly back up and sprint to the middle of the street where Scarecrow has successfully gassed the last guard. "Hey!" I shout as a warning. He looks up and passes me on his way to Batman. I hear them collide and begin to fight, but it is time to focus. I need to find the Joker.

I crawl up, into the van, and make my way into the back. The Joker is sitting casually on a bench as if he went through this every day, and whistling a random tune. His arms are relaxed behind his head, and I am shocked.

"What happened to your handcuffs?" I ask.

He swivels his head and looks at me, and for a moment, his eyes are blank. He then seems to recognize me, and I huge grin spreads across his face. His eyes light up in a mischievous spark of interest, and it crinkles his smeared and faded paint.

"Ooh, look at you! What didja, uh, dress up for, Lane?"

If he is attempting to make me feel self-conscience, it is not going to work. I am here for a reason.

"I asked, what happened to your handcuffs?" I growl.

"Ooh. Someone is a little feisty now isn't she?" He gets up and walks toward me slowly. I glare up at him, and he smiles back down at me. "Yes, I think that I like your, uh, improv-vah-ments."

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" I narrow my eyes.

He brings his hand up, and starts to stroke my chin gently. I smack his hand away, and he grabs both of my arms harshly. "Nah, uh, uh, Lane." He scolds me. "I think your forgetting who really is uh, in charge, here." He pulls me even closer, and I smell the stale scent of cigarettes mixed with recycled air.

"You aren't" I snap. "Do you need reminding about who exactly is doing the rescuing here?"

"Who says I needed rescuing?" He says lightly. "As for your other little question, after you go to Arkham a few times, you figure out a few things. Like being able to get out of your handcuffs. It's really rather, uh, simple." He grins.

"Oh." He still has my hands restrained, and I try to pull away.

"And, uh, where exactly are you-uh, going? Hmm?"

I don't need to reply because as soon as he asks the question, a loud thud! smacks against the side of the van.

"Oh," He swings his head to look. "We are kinda in the middle of uh, fight, now aren't we?"

In the next second, he pushes me away, probably expecting me to fall. But my reflexes are sharp, and I land lightly on my feet. This seems to catch him off guard for a moment, and he purses his lips at me, as if noticing me for the first time.

After a moment, he makes a satisfied sound in the back of his throat, and offers me his hand. I smack it away, and turn to leave when he grabs me from behind. He spins me around quickly, and positions himself in front of me as I reach out, trying not to fall over. Without realizing, I grab his shoulders to steady myself, and with a small gasp, I let go quickly. I glare up at him, and he smiles down and grabs my shoulders harshly.

"You know what I just noticed, Lane?" He sounds smug.

"What?" I narrow my eyes.

"I did get you some scars after all didn't I?" He laughs. "I believe this situation calls for an, I told you so!" He throws his head back in laughter.

Without thinking, I punch him in the gut, and he swings his head back down to look at me. I slap him across the face, and when he turns back, his emotions pass so quickly, it is difficult even with the gas to keep up.

Shock. Anger. Disbelief. Humor. Calculating. More Anger.

Nothing happens for a moment, and I am glad to realize he doesn't have any knives.

After a moment however, a grin grows on his face. He is laughing again, and he pulls me inches away from his face. I am close enough to smell his breath, which isn't the greatest because he has been locked up for a few days, and even smell the strange scent of the paint on his face. His eyes bore into mine sparking with interest and calculations.

"What am I going to do with you?" He muses.

I am surprised at the strength of his hold. For a rather lanky looking guy, he has definitely built up some upper body strength.

"Let me down so we can get out of here?" I say, rather impatiently. He thinks for a moment, and I know that it wasn't what he was talking about, but it serves as a valid answer for now.

He lets me go, and as soon as my feet touch the ground, I know something is wrong. I stumble a bit, and catch myself, and it catches the Joker's attention.

"Now, what seems to be the-uh, problem, now Lane?" He looks at me with confusion.

"Nothing." I mumble. The world starts spinning, and I feel light-headed. I reach into my pocket, and pull out the inhaler that Scarecrow had given to me.

I spray a puff into the air in front of me, and breathe in, deeply. The almost familiar burn in my lungs begins, and I don't cough. I close my eyes, and wait for the images.

This time, instead of memories, I am assaulted by still images.

The Scarecrow leering above me.

Batman grabbing my arm.

My mother's beaten form.

They fade, and I almost feel happy that I was able to stay silent. I wait out the exhaustion, and within moments, feel strong.

I stand up and grin.

"Let's do this." I move to put the inhaler away, when the Joker quickly snatches it away from me.

"So this, is what's been causing you to be so, dramatic?" He spins it around.

I grab it back quickly, and slip it into my pocket. "That's my business."

He narrows his eyes at my boldness. "Now, Lane. While we are on the subject. I need the other container in your pocket."

"Why?"

"Because it's mine. Now hand it over, or I'll be forced to, uh, take it."

I reach into my pocket, and pull out the plastic container. I am happy to see that my earlier guess was correct, and I am indeed holding a film canister. I put it in his outstretched hand, and he laughs in anticipation.

"Thank you, Lane. You've exceeded all of my, uh, expectations."

"So what's in it?"

"Oh, nothing you need to worry yourself with." He puts it in his jacket pocket.

"What? Why not? I deserve to know! I carried it all this way to you!"

My anger only seems to make him happier, however, and fighting with him seems useless.

"Let's get out of here." I turn away. "Scarecrow needs our help."

"There's more truth to that than you know." He cackles.

I make my way out of the van, and Batman and Scarecrow are standing about ten yards apart, waiting for someone to make the next move. I wonder why Scarecrow didn't just gas Batman, but don't focus too long on it. I notice that Scarecrow is a little worse for wear, and is breathing heavily.

Batman notices the Joker and me, and extends his hand in my direction. I see his fingers quivering, and can hear his shaky breaths. So Scarecrow did gas him, but he is still fighting it.

"Come on, Batman!" I say loudly, putting the emphasis on his alias. "Just relax and enjoy it! It's fun!"

"Ooh, very nice touch, Lane." The Joker says behind me.

Batman hunches over, and I am curious to what he is seeing. I wonder what Bruce Wayne has to fear.

"Yo! Scarecrow! Heads up!" The Joker yells.

Scarecrow turns his head in our direction, and the Joker tosses him the film container lightly. He catches it, and pops off the lid quickly, pouring the small contents into his hand. He rips off his mask, and I am confused.

At first, all I notice are his basic features. He's just a man, a little older than myself, with brown hair and striking blue eyes. He's definitely attractive, and I wonder why he is so intent on the contents of the container.

After a moment of studying him, I notice the details about him. His face is covered in a ghoulish red rash, and his lips are dry and cracked. He is close enough for me to see the red around his eyes, and the parts of his face that aren't covered in the rash are unusually pale and chalky.

He lifts his hand to his mouth eagerly, and swallows the contents of his hand. It must be medication for his condition. I wonder if it can be healed with such a little object.

Batman rights himself, and crouches low. He is outnumbered severely, and he must know it. I am not much of a threat, but he is going to try to leave with me at least, so I need to stay as far away as possible. The Joker, and Scarecrow are a strong team against him, and I wonder if he will just give up and go home.

I'm sure Alfred will enjoy hearing I'm okay. The thought puts a grin on my face. I wonder what he will think of my new attitude.

The repressed part of me shudders, and I give her a mental shove. When I'm not on this gas, I'm really a wimp aren't I? I don't know how people can stand me.

"You might as well give it up now, Batsy!" Joker laughs quietly. "You can't, uh, win. But, hey, I'm feeling generous, and you can leave now if you want with your dignity intact. Well, halfway. You already got hit with Scarecrow's little mixture. Hee hee."

"I will never give up to garbage like you." Batman growls fiercely, repressing shudders.

"Batman." I say. I was thinking about calling him Bruce, but I really don't want anyone to ruin my fun by knowing his identity. I think it proves my worth, knowing that I figured it out in minutes, when Gotham's most wanted has been at it for months. "You don't want to do this." I continue. "There is nothing to stop. We haven't committed any crime! Sure, Joker has 'escaped', if that's what you want to call it, but he does it all the time! It's not really that big of a deal."

"Melanie, you need to come with me. I can help you." His voice is shaking, and I wonder how he is keeping his self-control. I frown in concern, not liking the fact that this man was so unnecessarily kind to me, is now being forced to live his worst fears. Whether I feel unbeatable or not, I can't ignore his kindness toward me.

I shake my head to clear it a bit. I need to focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.

I need to get out of here with the Joker.

How?

Scarecrow.

I smile again, and take a step forward.

"Lane! What are you, uh, doing?" The Joker is confused, and a little concerned.

I ignore him, and walk straight up to Scarecrow, who has put his mask back on, and seems to be breathing better. I pull my fist back hard, and hit him with as much force in the gut. He doubles over slightly, and I hear his breath whoosh! out of him in surprise.

"Girrrl," He turns his head up in my direction, and I feel like I'm a kid again. But I need to focus if this is going to work. I watch for his attack, and when his arm springs up, I'm ready, and in a crouch underneath it. I kick his shin hard, and jump to the left as he swings at me. His fingers catch my hair though, and he yanks me back to his face.

Well, there goes my plan.

His right arm comes up with the nozzle, and I take a quick gasp in, wondering if I can hold my breath long enough for the gas to fade. But, before his fist reaches my faces level, Batman has grabbed it, and jerked it away with a sickening pop! Scarecrow gasps in pain, and turns his attention to the Bat. He attempts to raise his arm back up, when Batman rips the nozzle off his wrist, and tosses it over his shoulder.

I am grabbed from behind by the Joker, and I turn to him quickly.

"Nice plan." He says quickly, with an approving nod, and we turn and sprint away.

We turn around the nearest corner, and pause. I'm not exactly sure where to go, but I follow his lead as he pulls me forward a moment later.

We run a few blocks, and he surprises me by pulling me into a shabby apartment complex. He hurries me down a hall, and up two flights of stairs where we reach an apartment. He takes his shoe off, and reaches inside, pulling out a small key.

"Home sweet home." He grins, putting the key inside, and turning the lock.

He opens the door, and I am in a bit of shock. Could this be the Joker's actual apartment?

"It's not much, but it will hold for one night." He has gone inside already, and is looking in the refrigerator.

I take a step inside, and notice that it is predominately empty. There isn't really any furniture, and there is a thin layer of dust on the floors and windowsills. I'm beginning to doubt that he actually lives here, but that he just uses it as a hideout when needed.

"No food." He says, closing the fridge. "Oh well. It's only one night."

I walk in further, and realize that I am tired. My muscles are still strong from the gas, but I still can feel my body's instinct for sleep.

My heart is pounding, and my eyes dart around quickly. I'm not ready to be still, and my mind is overworking. The Joker looks at me, confused for a moment, and then walks over to me. He tilts his head, and looks at me confused again.

"Whatsa matter, Lane?"

"Nothing." I say, wiggling my fingers, simply because it's something that I can do.

"Why are you so uh, worked up?"

"I'm not." I suddenly get the urge to go jogging. Maybe that would help. "Can we go for a run, or something?" I ask.

"No." He says, a little surprised. "You sure have a lot of energy, don'tcha?"

"I guess." This conversation is boring. I want to go do something.

He laughs and then takes my shoulders, making me stay still for a moment. His eyes are calculating, and his grin is mischievous, making me suspicious. He stays like that for a moment, when his lips crush against mine. He pulls me against him, and I am amazed at how warm his body is through his suit.

The contact makes me angry though, and I try and shove him off.

"Get offa-" He cuts off my words by taking advantage of my open mouth, and shoving his tongue inside. My heart starts racing, and time seems to stop for a moment. My senses are overloaded and pulled in a million different directions as the Joker's body presses against mine. My mind tries to keep track of everything, but it is difficult. One of his hands cups my face, and the other is on my lower back, pulling me closer. The leather of his glove brushes my skin there, and almost sends me through the roof. His tongue moves eagerly around the inside of my mouth, and when I don't respond, he bites my lower lip quickly.

I suck in a quick breath, and stomp on his foot. He pulls away for a moment, and licks his lips quickly. He squints his eyes slightly, and tilts his head to the side, waiting.

Suddenly, I feel dizzy, and within a moment, the ground isn't underneath my feet anymore. The room swirls, and as the last of the gas leaves my system, exhaustion takes over my body. Blackness clouds over my vision, and I think I hear him chuckle.

Jerk.

Alrightly then, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Let me know! :D :D :D Pleeeease?