A/N: This chapter is rated M for detailed descriptions of torture, abuse and violence. The chapter doesn't include sexual violence. Other chapters (unless announced otherwise) are safe for teens.

Part I: Rebecca Robinson is left to face Gotham's worst Halloween ever. One ex-Robin and one dead-Robin are running loose in Gotham with their own goals and agendas. Rebecca's mind isn't the ideal one to begin with and with a history like she has... Will she be able to survive without loosing her sanity or her life? What will happen when Clown Prince of Crime wants his toys back and even Scarecrow can't stop him? Will Rebecca end up just being a toy to dead man's legacy?

Chapter 4 - Joke is rated M

Romance will be slow burn. (And I do mean slow.)

Contains detailed description of graphic violence, strong language and descriptions of mental illnesses and self-harming.

Broken Toys

Chapter 4 - Joke

Joke: (noun) A thing that someone says to cause amusement or laughter, especially a story with a funny punchline.

I wake up alone in a dark room. I can hear how water drops from the ceiling tapping the floor with a steady rhythm. My arms, legs and torso are tied to a standing table located in middle of the space. Only source of light is a light bulb above my head. The place seems far too familiar but my brains are still working slowly not connecting the threads.

"Becky honey, I'm home." I hear a familiar maniacal laugh. My body reacts before my mind is able to creating a fight or flight response. Unfortunately I am still chained into a table forcing me to stay still.

"Why are you so shy suddenly? Back at the Asylum you just kept talking and talking. Seriously I thought you will never shut up. Don't you dare to say you are starting to be afraid of little old' me? Don't worry, Becky, it's just your dear uncle J." I feel his hand caressing my cheek. His touch is gentle but it doesn't make me feel any better.

"Where am I?" I dare to ask. My voice is shivering. He seems different than before. Funny trickster act is over stepping to give space the jester of genocide, clown prince of crime, the truly scariest man in Gotham.

"With me! That's all you need to know. Little mystery keeps things always interesting. Even Bats agrees with that. Or I think so. Huh, never bothered to ask." He starts laughing but it soon turns into serious sounding coughs.

"Why am I here?" My brain still seems to be working slower than rest of the world giving me no information what my last memory is. Everything feels so familiar but somehow different than before. Like a twisted déjà vu.

"Are we in Arkham City?" The answer hits me. Everything seems so unreal. This can't be happening. Authorities wouldn't really send an underage girl into a mega prison with all the most dangerous criminals that Gotham has to offer, wouldn't they?

"Clever girl, Becky. This is so much fun having you around. Harley means well but it's always nice to have new toys. Normally I just hit her but sometimes even that doesn't help. Foolish woman, she is. I'm sure you understand what I mean, right Becky?" He pets my cheeks again.

"Why am I here?" I ask again trying to ignore the chills going down my spine. I would rather be anywhere else than here. This has to be a nightmare. Gotham was a crazy city but sending a minor to a super prison turned into a war zone was just too far out there. Sure, crazier things had happened but they couldn't happen to me, right?

"You are my plan B, honey! Everything can happen and my last backup plan escaped. Can you believe that? After all that I did for him. Snapped his bones, burned his skin, broke his mind… So ungrateful. I need to start taking better care of you teens, it seems. Who knows, maybe I got lucky and you turn out to be even better than him. Your hair is an immediate improvement at least." He gently combs through my green hair with his long fingers.

"Could you not do that?" I ask trying to sound braver than I truly feel.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" His hands start to move faster and faster. His movements transform into more aggressive ones. It seems as if he is trying to rip my hair and scalp off.

"How about this?" He begins to remove my clothes. I shift uncomfortably. Now I really don't like where this is going.

"Oh, don't look so frightened. You ain't the one for me, Becky." He laughs when he sees my pale face. Once he is finished I am trapped into a fucking table, virtually naked.

"You don't need these rags anymore, Becky." He tosses my clothes out of my line of sight.

All that I have left are a purple tank top and my undergarments. My complexion looks unhealthily pale, reminding me of a sickly grey color.

"You have such a lovely skin, Becky. Once I had a skin like that too. It would be most unfortunate if anything happened to that lovely complexion of yours." He lets out a dark giggle. This time he manages not to cough.

Without a warning I feel something hit my ankles. The cold metal painfully bruising me causes me to whimper.

"You like that? Maybe we should try again, but this time in a different place? Why wouldn't we start with your knees?"

I feel how he whacks me again. My legs twist as much as they are able to and my toes curl up trying to numb out the pain.

"My first subject didn't know which one hurt more. A." He beats me again. "Or B."

Honestly I can't tell the difference between the options. I bit my lip bloody feeling salty tears fall from my eyes.

"You can scream if you want to. It's not like anyone is gonna hear you." He hums at me. He hits me again and this time I can't stop the cry of agony escaping from my lips.

"Good. Scream for me, Becky. I know you want to." He starts to laugh sadistically. His laughing only crows darker and darker and it never ends.

I still hear his laughter in my ears. I am shaking violently from cold. I can't feel my toes or my fingers properly. I have lost too much weight and my skin has turned from pale to completely white with a hint of grey.

"Becky? Are you there? I'm sorry I'm late. Uncle J just had a really busy day today. Harls was especially annoying and all of my henchmen, don't even get me started about them, you wouldn't believe the mess that they made. It's always nice to remember that you are in here, ready to bring smile on my face." I hear how he picks up something from the floor. Probably a crowbar. It seems to be his favorite weapon to torment me with.

"Nothing makes me happier than seeing my marks on you. This is gonna be so much fun, Becky." I feel the crowbar crashing against my ribs. "Remember, in the future, never start with the victims head. It makes them all fuzzy and they can't feel the next hit properly."

You know, Becky, you really didn't have much friends, didn't you. It has been eight years and I have still not heard any news about you. I figured that at least one would miss you, file the missing person report but nothing! Can you believe it? Nobody seems to even remember Rebecca Robinson in the outside world." His laughter cackling around me. I've noted his new tactic. Every time he enters my holding place, he blind folds me so I wouldn't spoil the surprise. He usually hits me couple times just for the kicks of it. Then he does something else that causes lesser pain. I can hear buzzing sound and sharp pokes on my skin but I never complain. He talks mostly then.

"Six days, you know. Only six days when I got you with me. It feels like a lifetime don't you think. Funny how time flies when you are having fun. Ah, sometimes I think I have known you forever. Maybe even longer than Bats. No, no, no, no, no. That's too much. But you are at the solid second place."

"I have something new for you today. After all it is our four month anniversary. We need something to spice up our relationship. I have a new toy to play just for you. Harls would kill you for this opportunity. Better keep this just between us, eh? Our little secret." He blocks my vision again so I can't see what he is talking about. All I know this will not end well for me.

A new kind of pain violates through me. It is caused by cold steel but this is no crowbar. This is sharper, a knife. He is carving me open as if I was a pumpkin.

"Let's put a smile on that face." I feel a sharp pain spreading from my cheeks. The warm blood drips down my neck. I can't even scream anymore. I haven't use my voice since god knows when.

"Now you're always smiling."

My position has changed. I'm not tied into a table anymore. I'm hanging from the ceiling. The rope is tied around my wrists leaving me hovering and not being able to touch the ground. Both of my shoulders are out of joint.

"Do you like it? You look like you are part of the decoration. You look so pretty up there, Becky. Almost as if you were in a hanging tree." He laughs. It turns to coughing but he still manages to get out couple more chuckles from his heartless chest.

"They strung up on man, they say who murdered three…" He sings. "Of course I've murdered more than three but details can't always matter in art, right Becky?" He kicks my torso. At least he didn't bring the crowbar with him. Yet.

"You should sing more often. And I bet you enjoy singing too." I feel little more pain again but it is nothing compared to my other bruises.

"We have almost passed the part one of my plan. About the damn time if you ask me. It's been five years since we started. You are starting to look old, Becky." He giggles as he cuts my skin.

"I haven't been honest with you. I know! Shocking! But don't worry, there is a good reason for it. Finally the time has come to tell you something very important, so listen up, kiddo." He says while he picks up the crowbar.

"I," Pain on my lower stomach. "Haven't," Pain on my upper back. "Feeling," Pain on my right knee. "Like," Pain on my left shoulder. "Myself," Pain under my ribs. "Lately." He lets the crowbar go.

"I'm sick. Soon I will come the time when I laugh my last laugh. But don't worry, Becky. Uncle J always has ace up on his sleeve. Remember back when I said you would be my plan B? Now the time has come. You are almost ready for the grand finale." His voice has a sick sense of proudness in it.

"Only couple touches here," He smacks me. "And here," More pain. "And here." He starts to laugh but it immediately turns into a cough.

"As I said I haven't been well. Strange keeps bringing in these stupid doctors. They really don't get the jokes. Harley is a mess, crying all the time. She isn't that fun to kick around anymore. Can you imagine? Even Bats hasn't showed up. If he doesn't come soon I'll have go get him by myself." He laughs stepping into the dim light. This is the first time I see his face since the Asylum. He is right. He is sick. His hair looks thinner and his face looks absolutely horrible. Even his suit is darker than before.

"I don't want to spoil the fun for you but just wait. Bats doesn't even gonna know what hit him." He giggles.

"You are the key part of the after laughs. Just wait. But don't hold your breath." He walks away leaving me alone in the dark.

"Today is the day that we both have been waiting for." Now my only source of light isn't the lonely lightbulb that is barely working. Fluorescent lamps are clearing rest of the room. It is smaller than I thought. It's covered with messy tiles and rusty pipes. Files are falling off from the walls but this isn't the thing I focus on. I can only look at the Joker. He is facing me, holding a camera.

"I wanted to record this moment for future generations. Trust me, it's worth it. You are finally ready, darling. You are complete." He takes few steps back to get a better look at his work. I'm still hanging from the ceiling. Slowly something mechanical turns me around to look at opposite direction. Having the Joker standing behind my back isn't the best feeling in the world but it is nothing next to him creeping in the dark.

I see that we are not alone. There is another girl hanging from the ceiling at the opposite side of the room. She is stripped almost naked wearing only a dirty top and underwear. She is terribly skinny. I can count every rib. Her body is full of tattoos. Jesters, cards, laughing sounds and smiles are just some of the pictures I can see. They cover most of her bare skin. The tattoo that is most noticeable is the big mouth tattooed to her right arm.

Even with all the scars, bruises and tattoos the girl's face is the worst. Filthy hair covers most of it but I am able to spot extremely nasty looking scars on both of her cheeks that form a permanent grin.

"So beautiful. I'm so proud of you." The Joker pretends to wipe away a tear.

"It's time for your final exam. This is the hard one. But I know you can do it. Everything depends on it." He backs away to the door. He pulls a switch and my body falls to the floor. The other girl falls too. Do we have to kill each other? To see which one survives. How can we do that? My both shoulders are dislocated and I can't notice anything that I could use as a weapon.

"It's go time. I'm sorry that I can't stay to see the finale. Bats has finally come to town and I have a big plan to execute. Gotta run! See you soon." With that the Joker disappears leaving me alone with the other girl.

We both stay still. She is probably waiting for the right moment to attack. She reminds me of a starved animal.

After some time of us both not moving I decide it is safe to have a quick look around. The room seems to be perfectly symmetrical as if half of it is only a reflection caused by a gigantic mirror.

A terrible thought hits me. I look at my right hand. There is a big smile. I swallow the rising panic down. I try to move my legs. The other girl tries to do the same. My eyes drop back to my right arm.

It can't be.

There is no way.

No.

No. No. No. NO. NO!

That buzzing sound, the needle hitting my skin…

It's not possible.

Now you're always smiling.

NO!

This… this is just too much for me. I can't… I don't…

"Ha."

"Ha ha."

"Ahha ha hah ha haa. Ahha hah ha ha ha hah haa!"

Mirror-girl laughs sounds like the Joker. She starts from dainty giggle but soon her laughter fills the entire room. It echoes from the wall hitting back at me like a physical slap. It numbs me. The pain doesn't hurt that much anymore.

The laughter only grows into a maniacal cackle. There is no room in my mind for anything else.

This is how it happened… This is how Rebecca Robinson died.

A/N: I am really nervous about this chapter so I would appreciate to hear your opinions. Even if it's something small like "good chapter" or similar to that. It would help me a lot. This is the most important chapter of the story so far so I really hope i didn't mess it up. The Joker is a tricky one to write. He is so often written badly (at least to me, lol). He is a sick psycho after all. Funny psycho but extremely dangerous.

angeles372: Thanks. It means a lot to me.

Knockout: Thanks, here is your update again. Hope you'll like it.

Morro: Because I'm pure evil.

Special thanks to xXSherlockianGirlXx who shared her opinions on the Joker. Go check her out. See ya on the next one!