The explosion shook the bus.
Harleen ducked and grabbed the seat backs on either side of her where she stood in the aisle.
Screams filled the air, drowning out the thunderous sounds of explosions as Gotham General Hospital was torn apart before their eyes.
The heat of closely packed bodies pushing, pushing against one another was intensified by the heat which penetrated the bus, riding on shock waves.
"Why is this happening?" A shriek pierced through the cries around her.
Bodies crushed against her as the panicked mass of some forty people surged into the aisle and toward the exit. The fact that running outside into the explosion was contraindicative of remaining in the shelter of the bus was lost on the crowd.
Harleen tried to hold the two people in the seat beside her as she was compacted by the force of others. Her chest hurt as they took her breath.
"Everyone get your asses in the seats!" A gruff voice shouted accompanied by the sound of a gun being fired.
The screams intensified as men donning clown masks and waving guns in the air joined the sensory overload of the situation.
But like cattle, the crowd obeyed as the clowns corralled them into seats with their guns. Harleen was pushed toward the gaping maw of the rear exit as she lost footing and was shoved to the floor of the aisle.
She covered her head with her arms as a set of feet walked over her, and then another. A foot came down hard on her left hand, crushing tiny bones. She cried out and tugged until her hand was freed.
She gasped and then cried out as a hand tangled itself in her hair and yanked her to her knees. Tears were in her eyes as she cradled her left hand with her right.
"Get up, bitch!" A man's voice shouted.
She obeyed him, climbing to her feet as he shoved her toward the back. She grabbed the seatback of the bench he shoved her toward with her good hand and caught a blur of something white as she fell into it.
"Let's go!" A voice called from the back, followed by more explosions.
Harleen heard the brakes release and felt the bus lurch forward, shaken again by the force of another explosion as more screams joined the now crying voices around her. She clambered in her seat until she reached a sitting position and leaned back against the side of the bus and window.
She once again cradled her injured hand and hissed at the contact as she touched her broken fingers. She drew a few deep breaths and looked around the bus.
Patients, staff and visitors were jammed into seats while the clown men braced themselves in the aisles against the movement of the bus. The men shouted at the frightened people who were crying, praying or bargaining with their captors.
Harleen's sweep of the bus ended with the seat across from hers where a nurse sat calmly in her seat, head bent and seemingly oblivious to the chaos around her.
Then she felt the blood drain from her face as she took in the nurse's. She had chalk white skin, Black eyes and red lipstick looking as if it had been applied on a roller coaster; her hair a green tangled mess.
The Joker sat across from her.
She stared at him shamelessly as he sat quietly; seemingly deep in thought. She took him in, his costume his make-up. She frowned as she studied the features across his face and saw them for what they were. Terrible scars marred his lips and cheeks, covered with red lipstick.
His face had been broadcast countless times but the images weren't very good. All anyone knew was that he dressed as a clown with frightening make-up to disguise himself. She'd never realized that make-up was also covering those horrible scars.
His eyes were on her and she raised her brows and gaped silently like a fish, holding her left hand gingerly with her right. He narrowed his eyes at her in a cold glare and she whipped her head away and looked at the window. She breathed and listened to the whimpers around her for a few long moments before looking back. He was staring at the front of the bus but paying enough attention that when she'd looked back he saw her. He turned his head and stared at her coldly until she shifted herself in her seat away from him and stared fully out the window. She didn't chance another glance back.
After what felt like an hour the bus halted within the fenced in construction zone of the Pruitt Building. Harleen only knew about the location due to its proximity to the ferry terminals. Once the bus halted the front door was opened and the men in clown masks began ushering the people come hostages out through it. She stood in the aisle and began shuffling with the rest knowing that the Joker was bringing up the rear behind her. She cringed inside knowing that the most dangerous man in the city was standing behind her with a gun pressed into her back. The reality that he could just shoot her where she stood and step over her dying body nonchalantly weighed heavily on her. She prayed silently that he wouldn't.
She and the rest of the hostages were locked in an unfinished room on the ground floor. People who knew one another huddled together and talked quietly while others tried to connect with someone else. Harleen sat against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees while she studied the other hostages. She didn't really think about anything in particular, she merely became a sponge soaking in the stimulus around her to process at a later time.
Nothing happened for the longest time and that nothing made everyone nervous. The anticipation that something truly horrible and inconceivably evil and painful was going to happen to them permeated the room. In Harleen's studies she had learned about how people thought about and related to death. Two things had always stood out in her mind. Two of the biggest fears people had about death were what happened after they died and if it would hurt. Given the reactions of the others, she knew they were thinking about both.
The clowns came for Mike Engel.
He went with them quietly, but looked worriedly at his crew and then the rest of the hostages. Harleen took in his expression like a snapshot.
Once he was gone some of the others began to voice their thoughts about what was happening to him and what would happen next. It wasn't long before the entire room erupted in argument.
Harleen's brain took it all in as she sat quietly by herself. Time passed, a few punches were thrown and the brouhaha began to fade until the door opened once again.
This time the Joker strode in flanked by two men in clown masks. Harleen marveled how she had not seen any two masks alike, like snowflakes.
The Joker stood a few feet inside the room dressed like he was in every other image Harleen had seen him in, sans purple overcoat and with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He surveyed the hostages and then his gaze fell upon her. His cheek twitched and he started toward her.
She bristled and then clambered to her feet and pressed herself against the wall, shaking her head as she tried to move away. She was like a deer in the headlights, frozen by his dark eyes which looked black. He reached her and grabbed her wrist in a surprisingly powerful grip and wrenched it. She cried out as he dragged her from the room and pleaded for him to let her go. Just let her go back into the room.
If he heard her, he gave no indication that he had. He marched her through the half-finished hallways and into another room and practically whipped her inside. She stumbled and tripped on her foot and fell on the floor. She looked up and saw Mike Engel tied to a chair and frowned, perplexed.
"So, you were saying that you don't want to talk to your adoring public." The Joker said as he stepped over her and then between her and Mike. He looked at Harleen with a malicious grin and reached down and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her into a sitting position. She screamed and felt tears stream down cheeks.
"It's easy to say that when you're not on camera and no one can refute what you say. If nobody saw it then it didn't happen, right?" Joker asked.
"I, I don't know…" Mike stammered as he looked at Harleen with a frightened expression.
"Shut up!" The Joker snapped. "You have a choice, you can go on screen and deliver my little 'pep talk' to the city, or you can watch this girl die and the city will condemn you for your decision."
The Joker retrieved a hand-held camera from a bench and pointed it at Mike, adjusted some settings and laid it on a table to record Mike's face. He looked at Harleen and smiled without mirth as he stepped over to her. She drew away, but he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her to her feet. She looked at Mike pleadingly but couldn't make herself speak.
"So, what's it going to be, Mike, are you going to do the broadcast or does little Blondie here have to die?" He asked and then grabbed Harleen's broken fingers and squeezed them in a firm grip. Harleen howled in pain and her stomach lurched.
"No!" Mike yelled.
"No? No what, Mister Engel?" The Joker asked laughing. Harleen tried to look at the Joker's face but then her fingers exploded in white hot pain as he twisted them and bent them backward.
Harleen screamed louder than she ever had and her knees gave out beneath her. She was supported entirely by one of Joker's arms around her waist while he worked her broken fingers as if he were playing her like an instrument.
At that point she mercifully blacked out.
When Harleen awoke she was lying on the cold cement floor with her wrists bound and tape over her mouth. She heard quiet weeping and looked around. Some of the other hostages were with her, bound like she was. Men walked around them donning doctor's garb, some carrying guns while others taped weapons into the hands of the hostages and slipped clown masks over their heads.
Harleen began to hyperventilate and she sat up and turned to see the Joker pointing and issuing orders to a couple other men. He picked up a gun and a roll of tape and headed in her direction. She quickly turned away and lay back down and winced when she heard him laughing.
He sat her up and she looked over at someone else who began screaming behind their gag. Harleen frowned sympathetically and the Joker grabbed her head and turned it back to face him.
"Do you really care about these people, Doctor?" He asked in a mocking tone. Harleen nodded and he chuckled and she winced when he touched her left hand.
"Hold still and this won't hurt." He said in a calm even tone. She watched him finish his work and then look at her, titling his head curiously. He patted her head and walked away only to return with a mask in hand.
"Maybe you'll even be one of the lucky ones and you'll live." He said as he carefully slipped the mask in place on her head. He looked at her again and smiled, patting her on the head like a pet before disappearing from view.
Harleen woke with a start and rolled over to find her sister sleeping soundly beside her. She carefully climbed out of bed and made her way into the living room where she curled up on the sofa, arms wrapped around her legs. She began to quietly cry.
It had been a while since she'd dreamt of the day the Joker had taken her hostage. Months of therapy and participation in a group with some of the others had helped. Ultimately it was working with the man himself which had made the most difference. In doing so she had furthered her career, destroyed her relationship with her fiancé and against all belief fallen in love with the Joker.
She knew it was no longer a choice. She had to save him.
A/N: Thank you for reading and all of your wonderful reviews!