Alright, well sorry for the late update... I've had some serious writer's block, and just felt uninspired for this one, so sorry if it isn't my best. :) We will get to more exciting things in the next one, promise. :)
So, while I have been on this updating break maby things have happened, in case you are wondering. A few examples being my dad, brother, and I burying a lit street flare underground trying to get rid of a groundhog, and me getting to actually hold an alligater! :D But, enough about me, I know you are anxious to read so I will let you get to it.
Thanks Linnie kinda Spinnie, and once again, I sadly do not own anything related to Batman, but I do own Melanie! :)
Waking up is disorienting. I'm not sure where I am, but I'm lying on a hard mattress with a thin blanket over me. I don't know how I got here, and I close my eyes to try and remember better.
I remember being angry at people, and trying to figure something out. I was arguing with one of the Joker's men about... Something. That's where it gets foggy.
I turn over in the bed, and I'm not alone. There is somebody in this bed with me! My eyes go wide with panic, and I notice the familiar green tinted blonde hair of the Joker. Wait? How did he get back? And what are we doing in a bed together?
I get up slowly, and put my hands over my face. I remember a man... Was he wearing a mask? The Scarecrow? Why was he there?
I look down, and find myself in a purple and green jumpsuit. Seeing it jolts my memory and I remember talking with Scarecrow and finding this outfit. Okay, that's a start. But when I found it, I certainly wasn't planning on wearing it!
I look at the Joker again. He is fully dressed except for his purple overcoat and his shoes, which are on the floor next to the bed. His paint is smeared and missing in places on his face. I wonder slightly how long it has been since he has been able to sleep, and feel a small pang of sympathy for him. Sure, he was Gotham's most wanted criminal, but he is still human.
I feel something on my hip, and look down. A small bulge explains the feeling, and I reach my hand into a pocket. I pull out the small plastic...inhaler? I don't have asthma. What was I doing carrying this?
I shake my head, and sit on the edge of the bed. Maybe the Joker will be able to fill in some of my memory. I see a small clock on a nightstand next to his side of the bed. 10:30. It doesn't say A.M or P.M, so that doesn't help me a whole lot. But at least I have a number. There aren't any windows in the room, and the only light is coming from the outside hall light. I decide that if I'm awake, he can wake up too.
"Hey." I shove his leg. "Get up."
He doesn't move, and I shove him harder.
"Wake up!" I say a little louder.
No response.
"Joker!" I feel a pang of something very close to concern. I get off the bed, and walk over to his side. His eyes are closed, and his face is totally relaxed. I shove his shoulder, and he still doesn't respond.
I can't tell if he is breathing. My hands start shaking slightly as I put one forward to feel his pulse. No sooner does my finger touch his neck, when his hand flies up and grabs my outstretched arm.
"Boo!" He yells.
"Argg-" I yell, jumping back.
This sends him into a fit of hysterical laughter, and he grabs his sides as he hoots. I glare down at him, and he only laughs harder.
"Ah, calm down Lane, it was just a, uh, joke." He chuckles more, and sits up, alert and awake as if he were never really asleep.
"Yeah, well it wasn't very funny." I say sourly.
"Wow. You weren't this huffy last night. I think I almost prefer you on Scarecrow's gas." He says.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He says, tilting his head. "And I'm serious. Maybe you should take some of it this morning." His eyes light up.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Seriously."
He purses his lips, and stands up quickly. He strides over to me in three steps, and takes my shoulders. He leans down until we are eye to eye. His brown eyes probe mine deeply, and I have no idea what he's looking for.
His makeup is extremely faded and smeared, and the sight of him this close to me tugs at my memory. I feel like this has happened before.
"You really don't remember do you?" He smiles. "That, is hilarious!" He busts up laughing again, and grabs his sides.
"Shut up!" I ball my fists. "Just tell me what I'm forgetting!"
"I can't do both, Lane. I either shut up, or I talk, which-uh, one do you want?"
"Tell me what happened." I say darkly. I'm not sure where my attitude is coming from. From the moment I woke up, I have felt a sort of unresolved anger, and I hope that when the Joker tells me what happened, I can figure out why.
"Hmm." He touches his chin, and pretends to think about it. "Only if you say puh-leeease." He sings.
"Please." My tone is flat.
"Well, that wasn't very uh, convincing, but I'll tell ya anyway." He swings his arms up dramatically, "Once upon a time!"
"Not funny." I interrupt.
He drops his hands and lifts his eyebrows. "Fine. We'll do it the boring way." he sighs dramatically, and sits back on the bed. "I'll do ya a favor and just start at the beginning. Ahem... In the beginning there was nothing." He says in a flat ominous tone.
"Dude!" I complain. "What's it going to take for you to just be serious!"
"What's it going to take for you to stop interrupting my story?"
"I- You-... Never mind then! I'll just figure it out by myself!" I storm out of the room, and hear his wild cackle behind me.
What is his problem? All I want to do is figure out what happened, and he's acted like a five-year-old since I woke him up. I don't even know why I was so concerned about finding him in the first place.
Wait. I remember why I was arguing with that guy. I was trying to get him to do something to find the Joker. And I talked to Scarecrow on the phone. And then Scarecrow came and...killed them? That's sad.
And then I was afraid. No, I was terrified. Scarecrow had me backed into a corner. I can see it in my head. And he sprayed me... with the gas!
I pull out the inhaler again, and look at it. I had this in my system last night, and that's why I don't remember! I smile as I make the connection. Now all I have to do is fill in the blanks. Awesome.
I hear the Joker get off the bed, and I frown. He isn't going to help me figure it out. He thinks it's a game. I ignore him, and head toward the front door.
I grab the doorknob and am about to turn it when a blade twacks! into the wood past my head.
"Where ya headed, Lane?" The Joker isn't playing around this time.
"Out." I say without turning.
Another blade is thrown and hits the wood on the other side of my head.
"Hmm." He pauses. "I don't know if I really want-uh to let you go yet, Lane. We still have work to do." His voice is low.
I turn to glare at him, and he is playing with the edge of a third knife casually.
"What happened to your playful attitude?" I cross my arms.
"What happened to yours?"
"Are you referring to last night, because I already told you I didn't remember." Most of it. I add in my head.
He chews on one of his scars, thoughtful. "Right. Well did you want me to tell you about it, or do you want me to-uh, show you?" He chuckles.
"Show me?" I ask, confused. How could he show me? Was he going to act it out?
"Ooh, okay." He smooths his hair back, and walks toward me.
"Wait! I was asking a question." I said. "Not answering yours!"
"Fine." He laughs quietly. "Last night I was being transferred from the G.C.P.D. to Arkham. You teamed up with Scarecrow, and he helped you bust-uh, me out. The end."
"Wait, what? That's all you're going to tell me?"
"Yup." He pops the 'p' and smiles.
"Then I'm out of here." I turn and grab the knob again, but remember the third knife and freeze. He wouldn't actually throw it at me, would he?
He surprises me by taking my shoulders and spinning me around. I hadn't heard him walk up behind me and I gasp quietly at the movement. The room spins by, and I get the sense of de ja vu again. He catches my shoulders as I face him and smiles down at me.
There is something so familiar about the closeness of our bodies. Warmth radiates through his suit, and his breath brushes past my face.
Oh!
"You kissed me!" I yell as I push him off. "You actually..." My eyes are wide, and my words fade.
"Well, Lane, you were practically hyperventilating." He laughs. "You needed a little uh, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
"But you... I... No! Why would you do that?" My breathing is rapid.
"Uh, Lane. I already told you. Maybe you should pay closer attention." He continues to laugh quietly.
I cover my eyes in disgust. I don't even know what to think anymore.
"Calm down, Lane. It's not that big of a deal. You know, I think you even enjoyed it a little."
Ugg. I am not going to think about it anymore. There isn't anything I can do about the past, and I still need details about last night.
"Why was I with Scarecrow?" I keep my eyes closed, and try to even out my breathing.
"He owed me a favor." He says casually.
"So you planned all of this?" Irritation creeps into my tone, and I try to fight it.
"Oh, yes. I'm nothing if not thorough." He laughs. "And can I just say Lane, that you really are pulling together nicely."
My eyes flash open, and I see him smiling darkly. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I can't really tell you uh, everything, because it would ruin the surprise." He raises his hands up to try and look innocent. "But let's just say that it's a real treat seeing you now versus when we uh, met."
"You mean when you chased me out of my apartment, and abducted me?" I roll my eyes.
"Ha ha!" He laughs loudly. "Now there is the sarcastic little Lane from last night! I knew she was down there somewhere."
I sigh, and don't know what to say. I'm tired of fighting with him, and frustrated at my memory lapse.
My stomach growls and I suddenly realize how hungry I am. Being abducted sure messes with your eating habits.
I ignore the Joker as I walk past him toward the fridge. I open it, and am disappointed when I find it empty. Great. I shut the door, and turn around, looking at the Joker expectantly.
"What are we going to do about food?"
"Oh, we aren't staying-uh, here. We can get food, and uh, anything else on our way." He says.
"I thought I couldn't leave?"
"Well not by yourself Lane! We are definitely leaving. We have lots to do ya know!" He grins darkly. He then walks over to the door, opening it dramatically. "Ladies, first."
I pass him with a sigh, and he shuts the door, and is beside me quickly. I have to quicken my pace to stay beside him, and we are soon out of the building.
"So where are we going?" I ask as we duck into an alley and stop.
"Well, today we need to get everything out of our little abode, and move it to a safer location."
"Why move it?"
"Because Scarecrow knows where we have been staying, and he got taken by the Bat. If he squeals, then we are all caught, and that is just counter-productive." He acts as if he is explaining it to a child, and my chest tightens with frustration.
I realize that I have never really been an angry person per se. Sure, I've gotten frustrated at things, and been upset before, but I am not one to hold grudges. So the fact that I have been getting angrier and angrier this morning kind of frightens me.
Oh. That's right. It is probably left over from Scarecrow's gas last night. I hope that it fades quickly. I don't really like the feeling of lingering frustration and anger.
"That's true." I keep my voice even enough, and with a few breathes, I relax a little.
Maybe I should take an anger management course if this doesn't stop. Well, if the Joker ever lets me leave, and I somehow get my life back.
"Come on." He pulls me out of my thoughts and takes my hand, pulling me down the alley.
"Wouldn't a taxi be faster?"
He laughs and says, " Now Lane, who in their right mind would stop for two dirty clowns in Gotham? Hmm?"
"Oh, right." I look down at myself, and remember that I still have paint on my face.
"Besides," He continues. "We are better off in here for two reasons. One: It's daylight, so we don't need to watch for the Bat, and Two: No one we might see in here is a threat; no police, no screaming citizens, nothing. Just a couple of crack heads and hobos." He laughs.
We walk in silence for a while, and time passes quickly. I'm not sure how he learned the alleys so well, but he leads without hesitation, and I have to say that it is pretty impressive.
We stop at an opening, and I know we are close because there isn't anyone on the sidewalks. I see the almost familiar warehouse, and suddenly remember what Scarecrow did.
"Wait." I grab the Joker's shoulder. "Last night... Scarecrow sort of...Well." I look down.
He turns and smiles at my hand on his shoulder. "Oh let me guess?" He says casually. "He killed all my goons."
"Yeah." I say quietly. Even though I didn't really care much for them, and they never really liked me, I still feel guily liked me, I still feel badty about their deaths.
He surprises me by laughing, and I look at him blankly for an explanation. He looks at me, and is thrown into another fit of giggles, and after a few moments, he rolls his eyes with a smirk. "Well, what were you expecting him to do?" He asks, grinning widely. "It's not that big of a, uh, deal really."
"What? How could you say that?" I am almost angry.
"Lane." He says my name like a tired parent, " I have to restock my entire group about once a month anyway. He just saved me the trouble." He laughs again, and I am disgusted.
"So what's my time limit?" I snap.
He squints his eyes at me and simply states, "We'll see."
"We'll See?" I repeat. My voice is getting louder. "You take me from my home and my life, and turn me into a... criminal, and I still have some sort of, psychotic time limit? You're insane!" I turn away from him.
A knife presses into my exposed throat, and cuts sharply into my skin. My heart takes off, and my fists clench with the adrenaline rush.
"Poor Lane." His voice is half husky, and half sarcastic in my ear. "What a tough life she is trying to live. She needs so much help, but she turns it all away. Why, Lane? Why are you never happy with what you have? Hmm?"
My blood boils and the anger feels like it is going to suffocate me if it doesn't get released. Strangely, the knife doesn't hurt me. It only gives me energy and awareness that would be almost enjoyable if I weren't so upset.
"I'm waiting for an answer, Lane." His voice has gone cold.
I take a deep breathe, and focus on the task of not screaming. There is no way that he will get me to talk about my feelings. Even if he is threatening me with a blade, I'm not going to give him any more leverage than he already has.
"Too bad." I snap.
The blade disappears, and he is once again laughing hysterically behind me. His mood swings are almost predictable now, and it doesn't faze me. I touch my neck and feel the slickness of my blood. It isn't deep, and I'm not worried.
While he is busy chortling, I pull the inhaler out of my pocket. If he is going to threaten me, than I need to be alert. I am about to take a puff when I hesitate. The memory loss isn't the greatest side-effect ever, and I don't want to forget something important. I still haven't gotten the entire story from last night, and it is a little soon to do it again. Plus, I've never been a huge supporter of drugs of any kind, and I'm not quite sure if this qualifies as one. I dimly remember second grade and the big D.A.R.E. team coming and telling us how bad drugs are.
I slip it back inside my pocket ruefully, and sigh.
"I thought we were on a time limit?" I say.
"Right." He looks at me, and smiles. "You are just full of surprises lately, Lane. I think I, uh, like it."
I turn, and we walk across the street into the warehouse. It doesn't smell great, and I feel nauseated when I realize that the Joker's men are still lying everywhere. I try to suppress my gag reflex, and continue to walk without looking. I don't want to see their bodies. I almost want to close my eyes, but then I would have to stay still, and I'm sure the Joker would find some sort of twisted humor in my actions.
With a sigh, I just grit my teeth and bear it, trying to focus on exactly why we are here. He said it was to move his belongings to a new location, and I try to guess at what those possessions might be. Some knives maybe? It strikes me how little I really know about this man. He's a villain. He wears clown makeup and calls himself the Joker. He prefers knives to any other weapon, but will use others if he has too. He finds humor in just about everything.
Every one of these facts has two things in common. One: everybody knows these things. He only let's people see what he wants to see. And two: none of these facts have any depth.
We are at the base of the stairs when he turns around and comes back to me, taking off his orange tie. He smiles slightly, and I take a step back, confused. He laughs softly, and says,
"Don't uh, freak out, Lane, but I need a favor." He tries to look sheepish.
"What?" I am suspicious, and take another step back as he plays with his tie.
Instead of answering me, he reaches out and grabs my collar. He jerks me forward, and my stomach drops in fear. I realize just how much I really hate his mood swings. His breath is hot on my face, and he smiles innocently for a moment.
"Here we go." He says with a smile. He yanks me in front of him by the hair, and I gasp in pain. He puts the tie around my neck constricting my airway in the smallest way, causing my eyes to go wide with near panic. I stay silent though, and after a moment that lasts an eternity, he chuckles softly, and pulls it away. He raises it up to my eyes, and wraps it around my head, tying it securely behind it. "Sorry, Lane, but even I need a secret or two."
"You could have just asked me to close my eyes." I say sourly. I decide not to tell him that I can still see the floor where the tie doesn't quite cover my eyes, and consider just ripping the whole thing off. I leave it on though, because I remember that he still has a knife, and I don't feel like fighting right now.
"You always want to do things the hard way, don'tcha Lane?" He tsks in the back of his throat, and I roll my eyes. He is wearing on my patience, and I am happy to see that I am starting to gain a control on my temper.
"Yep." I say, and am satisfied to hear his footsteps stop in surprise. I can only imagine the look on his face. The picture puts a smirk on my face.
"Mmm?" I hear him take a step closer to me and his laugh almost startles me. It doesn't surprise me that he is laughing, because what else did I expect him to do? He's the Joker for crying out loud. What surprised me was the sound of it. It was a quiet, happy cackle that had a twist of something rather close to anger.
His fingers trace my lips softly, and chills spread down my back. "Have I mentioned, that I really like your new attitude?" His voice almost sounds urgent.
Instead of answering, I nod my head softly, and he slaps my right cheek twice sharply. "Good then." He says, all humor gone. Oh boy, another mood swing. I hear him walk away again, and I rub my cheek. I'm not quite sure what to feel right now, so I settle on confused.
I'm not sure why he even bothered to bring me along if I was just going to sit here blind. I shift my weight, and sigh quietly. I can hear footsteps upstairs, followed by a loud bang. Something is dragged across the floor, and I wonder how exactly he plans on getting this object to a new hidey-hole. If he expects me to try and carry it with him, he has got another thing coming, because there is no way that I am helping him with a stupid blindfold on my face. The movement stops above me, and after a few moments of silence, I hear him coming down the hallway at the top of the stairs. He doesn't seem to be out of breath, or anything, so I wonder if he has brought the mysterious object with him.
I am tempted to try and peak, but the thought of him with a knife stops me. If there is anything I'm beginning to learn with the Joker, it is the gift of patience.
He clomps down the stairs, laughing gleefully to himself, and I am mystified at his new attitude.
"At-at-a!" He says in a reprimanding tone, and I wonder what I am doing wrong. Surely he can't be upset that I am standing here right? I have a stinking blindfold on! I'm not going to follow him all around. He laughs again, and I feel stupid.
"What?" I say, irritated.
His footsteps stop in surprise, almost like he forgot I was here, and then continue. Something scoots a chair close by, and I hear him come back to my side.
"Now, Lane." He says sweetly. "This next part is going to be-uh, tricky. So I need you to be a good little girl, and keep that blindfold on, mmmkay?"
Good little girl? Those three words send a torrent of blood-boiling anger down my spine in a flash, and my hands ball into fists. Another memory from last night surfaces, and I remember Scarecrow calling me that like an insult again and again. I nod my head stiffly, determined not to show the Joker the anger beneath my skin. I refuse to let him have that leverage, and am glad that he didn't notice my hands. I let them relax quickly, and push the anger away. I will save it for a time where I can effectively use the edge.
He grabs my wrist, and drags me across the room. We pause for a moment, and I hear something scoot a chair again. The Joke's body moves as if he were pulling something with his other hand, and then we are continuing again at a brisk pace.
I feel cool air blow across my face, and know that we are outside. The sliver of sidewalk that I can see gives me no clues, and I don't even see the point of me wearing the blindfold.
"Can I take this off now?"
"Of course not, Lane! I told you I needed some secrets too, didn't I?" He tugs something with his other hand, and I answer with a simple,
"Yeah."
He must want this new location to be a secret, even from me. Why, does he think that I would really be able to escape him? We know how well that doesn't work.
He drags me anther few blocks, and around some corners, and after about ten minutes, he stops. I hear the jingle of a key, and a door groan open, and we enter a new building. The air is stale, and smells like rats and mold, and I wrinkle my nose in distaste.
"Now, stay here for a minute, Lane. Don't peek." He laughs, and lets go of my hand. I stand there, blind, while he walks away from me, and that's when I hear it. The room has a slight echo to it, and amplifies all of the sounds. I hear two sets of feet walking away from me.
The Joker has somebody else with him.
So, once again, things will get better in the next one, and please feel free to let me know what you all think! :) Reviews are an author's best friend. :)
*Side note: D.A.R.E. is a program that comes to all of the elementary schools where I live, and it stands for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. Just say no and all that. :) Peace!