Thanks for all the reviews guys!!!! I broke 100 reviews!!!!! That's a huge frickin record for me, and I owe all to you!!! OMG!! This is soooo amazing, and if you couldn't tell, I'm pretty pumped right now.

LS—I'm glad that you think that I did a good way of introducing the Joker. Thank you so much.

MasqueradeWitch—Well, I'm a little critical of my work…sorta. Well, of course I'm gonna tell you what happens to Alex. What kind of author would I be if I just left it at that. LOL

Sabre—Well, here's the next chapter, and about the 'their' and 'they're' issue, I know!!! I could've sworn that it was right when I wrote it, but when I went back over it, reading it, I realized that it was wrong!!! It was too late because I posted it.

Finn Lake—I quite liked that phrase too! Thank you for the compliment and liking it soo much!

Nocturnal Rose—I'm glad that you liked it, and I liked the cliff hanger as well. There will be more Bruce and Alex interaction soon so be patient. I'm glad that you love my story.

Bmangaka—I'm not telling who saves her! You must read! LOL

Johanna—Of course, she's screwed! It's the Joker! And you will see who saves her.

Hannah—Well, it's not gonna be good, I'm only telling you that much.

Pianoplayer—Well, I'm glad that it's awesomeness, and I officially love that word now. Hope this chapter is as awesome as the rest!

Tasha—My 100th reviewer!!! Thank you, and you get a hug everytime I remember. Thank you!!! Well, now you will know!

Okay, wow, that's a lot of reviews. Thank you, thank you! Okay, as I said in the last chapter, things will be a little frightening and I found the word, gruesome. If you're easily nauseated, it might be best not to read. You will get clue ins in the next chapter if you choose not to read. I totally get it. IDK if I'll get the Joker's personality right so you must tell me if I don't.

He laughed maniacally at my startled face. "Do the scars scare you?" he inquired.

I gathered myself back together and calmed my nerves, or at least tried to look like I did. "Not as much as you would like, actually." I just kept focusing on my breathing and staring at the patch of wall right exactly above his head so it still looked like I was staring at him.

He rushed at me with my hunting knifet. He pressed himself close to me with the blade of my knife pressed against to corner of my mouth. "Wanna know how I got these scars?"

"You know? Not particularly," I spat in his face.

He wiped it off with his free hand as he began to move the knife deeper into my cheek.

I felt my heart pound in my chest. I had fired rifles that had less kick than what I felt now, but despite the thumping inside me, I managed to keep a straight face. I tasted my blood trickle in from the cut on the inside of my cheek, and I felt the warm, sticky liquid trace a trail down my face. I swallowed.

"I'm gonna…umm…tell ya anyway," he hissed as his tongue flicked to the corner of his mouth. He reminded me of a snake now, but with clown clothes. "Ya see…," his tongue ran across his dry, chapped lips, "I had a horrible, horrible childhood, and…uhh… my mom died." This was getting a little personal, and I highly doubted that that was what really happened to him. "My dad was always a little sad," his tongue flicked. So did his hand, which added a little more pressure to my cheek. "So one day I—I carved a smile in Daddy's face." He stared deep into my eyes and laughed. "Ya see? Daddy died, and I was… ummm… sad!"

I felt my heart begin to pound away in my chest again. I was terrified for my life. "I'm sorry. That must've been hard," I feigned sympathy.

He nodded childishly, but in a second, all of the child-like emotions were gone as he spun me around. He had skillfully swiped my handcuffs as he spun me around. He apparently had grabbed his pocket square from his jacket and wrapped it. I felt his body pressing against mine. I suspected that he hadn't taken a shower in quite a while because he stunk! "This isn't gonna hurt at all, Beautiful," he sneered as he pulled the wrapped pocket square tightly against my mouth.

I flinched as pocket square dug into the cut at the corner of my mouth. It hurt! Bad! Next I felt my own handcuffs digging into my wrists; there was going to be a bruise there in the morning I was sure.

"A taste of your own medicine," he sneered.

I clenched my hands into fists.

He cackled. "Ooh! A feisty one!" he squealed. "Only what I would expect from a cop!" He wrapped one, purple gloved hand around the gap between my wrists and dragged me around in my apartment, which was just loads of fun. I heard him open the door, and I was led into the hallway where we took the back stairs all the way down to the back of my apartment building. When I tried to turn around, he pulled on the knot of the gag, pulling it deeper into the cut. I finally just gave up and stood there facing the wall.

I eventually heard the trunk of the car being popped open. I was dragged backward, and I twisted my hands around in the cuffs to make it more comfortable. It didn't help because it still hurt. I felt my head being pushed down as I fell into the hard trunk.

The Joker smiled wildly at me. "Enjoy the ride," he scoffed. The lid was shut and I was enveloped in darkness.

The first thing that I did after the car lurched forward was glance around for the emergency handle for those that had somehow gotten themselves stuck in the trunk: gone. Swell, but slowly I remembered that I had an extra set of keys tucked inside my boot. I smirked as I maneuvered my way down so that my hand could grab the keys and unlock at least one of the cuffs free from my wrist. Finally, I clutched the precious metal in my right hand, and I began trying to unlock the left cuff when the car stopped. My heart rate about doubled, which was saying something because it was all ready pretty fast. Luckily, it was just a stoplight, and once we began moving again, I unlocked the cuffs and pulled my hands to the front of me. I began feeling around where the lights and license plate would be, hoping to be able to punch them out. They were barred over. The Joker did know what he was doing, and it bugged me. There wasn't really a flaw in his plan yet.

I was finally aware that I couldn't help myself anymore, and it was time that somebody else know what was going on. I pulled my phone off my belt and opened the message section. For some reason, I knew that it had to be Martin that knew. I don't know why it was him, but it just seemed right. So I texted him this:

Help!! Joker got me! 'Emergency' file on computer. Code: 5887. Track me.

I hit send. Thank God for cell phones! I relaxed as I slid my phone back in its case. I slowly and gently tightened the cuffs back around my wrists. They weren't as tight this time, so it didn't hurt as much as was to be expected, but I left the gag in my mouth, figuring that it would stop the blood flow from the cut on my mouth. I kept my hands in front of me as I slid the keys back into my boot for further usage.

Soon enough we stopped, for good. I heard a door slam shut. We were wherever we were supposed to be. I heard more doors slam shut, and I knew that the clown had helpers. Just what I needed. The odds were being stacked against me. I heard the key fit into the lock on the trunk and turn. The lid was pulled open, letting in light and cold night air. I could see, just barely, but I could see the bat signal in the air. It gave me comfort knowing that Batman was out there somewhere, and Dad was just standing up there on the roof waiting. Unfortunately, my feeling of peace didn't last long as I saw the Joker's hideous face fill up my vision.

"We're here!" He grabbed my wrists, apparently not noticing the switch in their positions, and pulled me out of the trunk. I practically fell to my face on the concrete since my legs were pulled out last and gravity was also against me, but this madman just laughed at it as he pulled me to my feet. "Lookie here! Little Gordon isn't trying to escape us!"

I was utterly disgusted and I could've sworn that I threw up a little bit in my mouth as he pulled me into the warehouse. He pulled me up the stairs and threw me on the floor. He grabbed the keys out of my boot (okay, he obviously knew) and took off the handcuffs. He stuck the blade of my knife against my throat. The metal was warm, which meant that it was in his pocket; it must be a new piece to his assumingly large collection.

"Now, precious," he purred, "don't try to run away. It won't work well for you, but it will be fun for me." He laughed again as he worked busily away at the cuffs. He unlocked them and threw them on the floor. He pushed himself against me, making me slide up against a metal support in the middle of the room. One of his helpers handed him a long piece of rope and the Joker took it smiling. He skillfully tied my hands together and then wrapped the rope around support.

I leaned against it and tried to relax. It wasn't working very well, but at least, he thought it was. Still, I saw one of his goons coming at me with the butt of the gun. Last thing I saw before falling unconscious, was the Joker laughing and clapping his hands. This all really was fun and games to him.

I eventually woke up with the sun on my face, but the air and wind were bitter cold. Luckily, I had decided to wear a sweater yesterday. Since the sun was up, I was correct to assume that Batman hadn't saved me; I was still attached to the metal support when the Joker came in to greet me.

I felt Goosebumps wander up my arms when he smiled at me. It was then that I really noticed his scars, and he was right; they were scary as all get out. He was right in my face and I could see all the details in his face. The scars were deep and all bumpy. The edges were disfigured, while the part where he obviously did the cutting was smooth, normal face. He had used white, red and black play makeup or even Halloween makeup. It wasn't normal. "Well, good mornin', Beautiful!" he breathed into my face. It smelt horrible, but he took out my knife and sliced the ropes away from my wrists. "It's time for some fun, Sarg." He pulled me up by my hair, but thankfully, our "fun" was cut short by tires crunching on the gravel outside. Hopefully it was help, and not more of the Joker's "clowns." He threw me back down on the ground, hard. "Don't be going anywhere, now, Precious," he ordered. He walked out with my knife in his hand.

I took the advantage of the Joker being gone and untied the gag on my mouth. I was tired of having it in, obviously. He was a really good knot tier, and it took me a little time to untie the pocket square. I did it though, and I heaved a sigh of relief as I held the green pocket square in front of me. The left side of it was stained dark red from the cut on the side of my mouth. I gingerly raised my hand to my mouth and felt the cut. It had widened my mouth by a little bit; maybe half an inch. It had stopped bleeding, but it still stung like none other. I gently scratched away the dried crimson blood, turning the underside of my fingernails crimson. My tongue ran along the inside of my mouth feeling the newly acquired space. I heard the clacking of feet on the hardwood floor and arguing. I could definitely pick out the Joker; his voice was pretty much burned in my memory. Still, I recognized the other voice. It was kind of hard to recognize because I had never heard him yell; it was Martin.

They came into the room. The Joker had pressed my knife into Martin's cheek, and Martin's gun was gone. I don't know where it had gone, or if he even brought it, but he didn't have it either way. The Joker pinned him up against a wall in a position that Martin could see me. He stared at me with wide eyes, and for the first time in my life, I think that I was seeing Martin acting scared. He was normally so tough; I mean, he was SWAT, but apparently having a knife held to his mouth wasn't something he was too keen on. I smiled pathetically in a hope to encourage him, but it wasn't helping.

"So…umm… wanna know how I got these scars?" Not again! I knew that this wasn't going to end well, but all Martin did was swallow. "Well," the Joker began, "ya see in an… uhhh… attempt to save my girlfriend from being killed, the guys pinned me to the wall." He pushed Martin up into the concrete wall. "Just like this!" he growled. "They took a knife, similar to this one, and put it to my face. Like this!" He stuck the knife in Martin's mouth at the corner of his cheek. "They looked at ole terrified me and said…uhhh… WHY… SO… SERIOUS?!" He pulled the knife across Martin's face letting blood pour down his face and onto the concrete floor. I turned away, not daring to look. Martin was screaming in agony as the Joker pulled my knife across his other cheek, allowing more blood flow into the pool at his feet. The Joker squealed and began laughing. It was high pitched and echoed across the room.

Martin fell to the ground as more blood ran into the pool around him. The Joker took off his glove and scooped up some blood on his fingers. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked on them. He went into a sort of haze; the blood was like a drug for him, and he was getting high off of it. He squealed and walked around in a circle for a while.

I pulled off my sweater and ran to Martin's side. I wrapped up my sweater and stuck it underneath Martin's head as if it were a pillow. I didn't want him lying in his own blood anymore. I ran my hand through his hair in a soothing motion. "Oh, Martin," I cried, "I'm so sorry." I cradled his head in comfort. "I wish that this didn't have to happen." I placed one of my hands on his cheek and tried, hopelessly, to get some of the blood off his face. It didn't help. The only thing it did was get blood on my hands.

He raised his hand up and cupped my cheek, getting blood there too. "It's okay, Al," he whispered. It was almost not understandable because of the slices on his face. "I was just trying to be your Knight in Shining Armor, but it didn't work." He attempted at a smile, but when he did, he just groaned in pain instead.

I closed my eyes as I continued to run my hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry. Just so sorry," I repeated over and over. "It's my fault."

"No," he said sternly, "it was mine for coming here alone."

"Alone?! Does anybody else know that you're here?"

He nodded. "I left a note on your dad's desk."

I placed my hand in his. He squeezed it gently.

The Joker turned his attention back to us. "Ya know? Even though this is…ummm…," his tongue flicked out again, "as sweet as this is, I gotta little game for us to play." I didn't want to play a game, especially with this nut. He had all ready done enough damage. "One of you will be dead in five minutes, and I…uhhh am giving you the power to decide." He tossed the knife to me as he turned to leave. He looked over his shoulder. "Oh! And if you're both not dead in five minutes, you both die." He leaned against the wall to watch.

I held the knife in my hand. I didn't want to kill Martin so I held the knife to my throat.

Martin grabbed my hand and whispered, "I'm gonna die anyway. Kill me."

"No!" I protested. "I'm not going to kill you!"

"Look at me," he reasoned. "I'm bleeding out right now as we speak, so I know that I'm not going to make it. Gotham needs you! Just do it." He pulled my hand down and placed the blade on his neck. He looked at me with such strength that I almost gave in.

"No," I held out. "If you're gonna die, I'm dying with you." I made a move to bring the knife back to my neck, but Martin held it in place.

He looked at me. "Do it."

I shivered. The cold was getting to me; of course, the thought sickened me too. I heard the Joker playing with another knife. I closed my eyes and applied pressure to the knife.

"You're doing me a favor, but can I ask one thing?"

I opened my eyes.

"Do it with your hair down."

"Why?"

"I know you with your hair down, so it won't seem as if it's you doing it, and besides, I've always wanted to see you with your hair down." He smiled.

I complied and let down my wavy hair. "Are you ready?"

He nodded.

I pulled the knife across his neck quickly. Blood poured out of his neck onto the floor, staining his neck and shirt with blood. I turned my head away and scurried to the other side of the room and sunk down against the wall. I pulled my knees against my face and wrapped my arms around my legs. I couldn't believe what I had just done. Martin was dead, and I did it! I murdered Martin! I felt my stomach do flip-flops and I felt like I was going to throw up. I heard the faint sound of sirens coming up to us. I looked up just in time to see a blur of purple, green, and white flee out of the building. I stared at Martin's body and felt vomit come up in my mouth. I fought it back down and lowered my head. The sirens stopped and I heard yelling coming from outside. I closed my eyes and hoped that this was all just a nightmare, but I knew that it wasn't.

I felt warm hands on my freezing, almost numb arms. "Alex, it's okay."

I looked up into the face of my Dad.

OMG!!! That took forever to write, but give me credit: writing the Joker is hard, and I got sick. I'm actually still sick, but I was actually able to crawl out of bed and write this tonight. I still feel horrible, but the meds are working. I'm sorry about the gore and blood, but I did tell you ahead of time. Tell me how close I was to capturing the Joker's personality because I'm not sure about it at all. There will probably one or two more chapters to the bridge (before I start Dark Knight).

I got 21 hits today on this story, which is almost sad enough to make me cry, but then I remember I have more than 100 reviews on this story, and I get happy again! That is pretty amazing for me guys, so thanks again!!!! Review please!