Those of you familiar with Batman Beyond Return of the Joker know what is coming up next. Those of you who do not, well, as of now this and the following chapters will carry a special warning. Scenes of physical and psychological torture will take place in the future. Viewer discretion is advised.

The world was a kaleidoscope of shifting and blurred colors. Pain erupted from his lower back as he regained consciousness. Where was he? How did he get there? Why couldn't he move?

"Wakey wakey sonny boy, you'll be late for school." A sharp sting lit up the electrical impulses in his brain, forcing Robin's mind to become more awake and aware. His left cheek hurt, being slapped by the Joker normally did that. Robin groaned in pain as he surveyed his surroundings, taking in every minute detail as Batman had taught him. The room he was in looked exactly like a cheap Hollywood producer's idea of what a mad scientist's laboratory looked like. Bubbling beakers dotted the room. Odd gizmos and gadgets of indeterminate function filled every available space. Lights and buttons flashed and beeped with little rhyme or reason. Robin himself was tied down to an operating table. For a moment he thought that he was on the set of a Frankenstein remake.

The old style camera in the corner of the room and its cameraman, or rather, camerawoman, certainly gave credence to the idea. Harley Quinn was running the film on the old camera (it looked to Robin like it would only record a picture in black and white). The Joker, grinning his usual death head's grin was hovering over him, wearing an old style laboratory coat over his regular purple suit and trousers.

"What are you smiling at clown? When I get out of this you won't be able to smile after I've knocked out your teeth." Robin declared.

The Joker to his credit gave an incredibly good impression of a parent upset by their son's verbal abuse.

"Is that anyway to talk to your dear father son?" The Joker asked.

Robin raised an eyebrow in disbelief. The Joker was acting weirder than usual. What was with the mad doctor routine? And why did he keep calling Robin son?

The Joker shook his head in mock sorrow. "Kids these days," he sighed. "They have no respect for their elders. You break your poor father's heart. And after all that your mother and I do to try and provide a decent home for you." The Joker's tone of voice may have sounded disheartened, but the smile never left his face for a moment. But the worst thing about the Joker's appearance that put Robin on his guard was the sharp look in the Joker's eyes. It was a dark look, a look that said the Joker wasn't going to be pulling his punches this time around.

Robin was worried. Something seriously wrong was about to happen. But in the superhero business showing any form of fear in front of your enemies was a death sentence. And so Robin did as most superheroes did when they were in peril. He talked back.

"You must be more off of your meds than usual if you think we're related. Personally I don't see any family resemblance between you and me Joker. Maybe Harley lied about it being yours during the pregnancy."

Robin regretted saying that the moment the words left his mouth. The Joker's smile faltered for less than half a second, only to grow larger and more encompassing. His smile seemed to grow so large that Robin half expected the clown's skin to start splitting at the seams. His eyes grew darker and colder, becoming portals into some icy hell. Robin had once heard it said that the eyes were the portals to the soul. If this was true than the Joker had no soul, for in that moment he saw the Joker's bottled up hatred for Batman and his allies being directed squarely at him. The laughter and the smiles and the jokes were merely a cover, a lie to conceal a seething, raw urge to destroy. That was the nature of the Joker's psychosis. At times he realized his hatred for what it was, but at other times he sincerely thought that this was how friends actually behaved towards one another. Such was his level of disconnect from humanity that, while he often called others his friends, he really had no idea what actual fondness was. Such unpredictability was what made him dangerous, and Robin realized that, in this time and in this place things would be different from all of the other times that a member of the Batfamily had been held hostage.

That look lasted less than half a second, and then it vanished.

"My, my." The Joker whispered. "It's going to take a lot of work to set him straight Harley. Are you up to the task?"

"I'm ready for anything Mr. J." she responded from behind the camera.

"Good, make sure you get a close up of the boy when it happens. And remember to catch my good side dear."

The Joker began rummaging through something or other, tossing aside tools and pieces of machinery.

"You know son, your mother had always wanted to settle down and start a life with your dear old dad. But we never could find the time to start a family properly. We were both such career oriented people, so focused on our jobs. But recently I've come to something of an epiphany. Neither of us is getting any younger. Sooner or later I'm going to wake up one morning and find some grey hair amongst this green." He paused a moment from his rummaging to run his hand through his emerald colored hair.

"And so we both decided that there was no time better than the present. Your mother though didn't exactly want to experience all of the joys of childbearing, even though she desperately wanted a family of her own. So we both decided to adopt. Obviously the legal system wouldn't allow us to do so through official channels. But then we realized that our oldest friend always had a few spare kids lying about in the woodwork, and we thought we'd borrow one. Aha, here it is."

Robin's dread had only been growing during the Joker's speech. The Joker instinctively knew this. He knew where the object (whatever it was) was. True to his craft, the Joker was intentionally drawing the situation out for dramatic effect.

It was working all too well.

The Joker pulled out two large metallic clamps connected to a set of wires. Robin instinctively knew what they were for. They were electrical conductors. Years of training began to vanish as panic set in. He began to struggle against the straps that held him back more violently, desperately trying to free himself from his prison. He looked up to the skylight. "Come on Batman." He thought to himself as the Joker fastened the clamps to the operating table. "Now is the part where you break through the glass and save me." The Joker noticed Robin's line of sight and deduced what he was thinking.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up. He isn't coming. No one is coming for you. They'll never find you. They'll look, but soon they'll give up the search and leave you alone in the dark."

The Joker walked over to a large lever on the side of the room. "This is going to hurt me a lot more than it is going to hurt you son."

There was only one retort that Robin could come up with at a time like this.

"Go to Hell."

"We are all in Hell my son." The Joker responded. "In the next few days I'm going to show you the truth of your meaningless little existence. Welcome to the family."

With melodramatic flair the Joker pulled down on the lever and for Timothy Drake the world exploded into agony.

The end had begun.