Worst Fear - a Joker Story

Meeoko

Summary : They say the night is darkest before the dawn. But I like the dark - I like it a lot! That's why I built an army. An army of fallen angels. Joker-focused fic. Begins just before The Dark Knight. Rated M.

Author's Note's : Hey folks. Sorry it's been such a long time since I last uploaded. Anyway, here's the next part of the adventure!

Alfred sat inside the penthouse kitchen, watching the television, sipping his cup of tea and thinking. He was thinking about Master Wayne. He'd spent a lot of time down at the pier again, working for hours at a time on surveillance tapes and analysis's. It wasn't healthy for the young master to be working so ardently, but Alfred knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Even as a young boy, Master Wayne had never been one for taking it easy. He always liked to live by his own rules and some things never changed.

“...the damage left over from what is now being called 'Gotham's Inferno' has been called catastrophic. Many of the Gotham offshore islands had to have been evacuated as residents fled from their homes to escape the blaze.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. He knew it all too well these days. Bloody hell, things had been so much easier in the Gulf.

“A new development has arisen in connection with the cause of the fire. After speaking with Deputy Fire Marshall, Aiden Mitchell, who was incapacitated during the time of the inferno, it's quite clear that this was in fact, a planned attack. In connection with the Gotham Police Department's missing Major Crimes unit, it seems that the Gotham Inferno has been traced back to the alleged terrorist known only as 'The Joker'.”

Alfred took another sip of his tea. He wondered just what was happening to Mr. Jim Gordon right then and there. He was almost a hundred percent certain that it wouldn't be pleasant, but he hoped for Master Wayne's sake that the officer was alright. It seems that the young master had taken quite a shine to the leader of the Major Crimes Unit, ever since they had been forced to unite over The Scarecrow terrorist plots.

“...responsible for destroying local mental institution, Archym Asylum and the deaths of almost a hundred people. It has emerged from the Gotham Police Department that the terrorist is also responsible for kidnapping at least thirty patients from the institute and taking police lieutenant, Officer Jim Gordon hostage before the initial terrorist attack.”

The intercom buzzed. Alfred looked up from the television, mid sip. He immediately got up from his chair and headed towards the cupboard. He pulled out an aspirin for himself, all ready and waiting. Master Wayne's excursions did leave him with a pounding headache. But it was a good sign. Hopefully, the only times Master Wayne needed him were for advice, to brag, or to let him know about his latest Batman escapade.

It was about bloody time, that much was for sure! It'd been almost a day since Alfred had heard from his young master.

Alfred took a deep sip of his tea, popping the aspirin tablet into his mouth as he did so. Walking briskly through the door, Alfred headed in the direction of his young master's bedroom.

“...is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you see or know anything about the terrorist known as 'The Joker', please call us at....”

“Ow.”

He stabbed at himself again.

“Ow.”

And again, point first this time.

“Ow.”

He was growing bored. Not only bored, but annoyed. His anger had finally abated after Officer Gordon's......comment. But now, he didn't know what else to do. He supposed he could send out another broadcast to the Bat. He was awfully slow. It had been an entire eighteen hours since the great 'Gotham Inferno'.

“Ow.”

He sucked at his hand, where the little droplets of blood were pooling. Sucking the blood out of the small nicks, he spat it out again onto the concrete.

“Goddamn little punk, goin' off and ruining my plans.” he muttered to himself. “Should'a killed him when I had the chance...”

He was not pleased with Newcomer. The stupid kid had gone and got himself stuck inside a cell with a bunch'a pissed off cops! Now he was one cop short, seeing as Newcomer's little 'girlfriend' had gone and shot one'a them in the head.

It was quite a turn-on, really. Any woman that could wield a gun like that and not give two shits had his respect. He'd already sought her out more than once in the hope of relieving some of the stresses of holding the entire Major Crimes Unit hostage. But nobody knew where the hell she was. It was disappointing. He licked his lips at the thought. Damn pretty thing, she was. And a killer to boot! And who said a woman's work was never done?

“Ow.”

He chuckled to himself, once again jabbing the tip of the small blade into the back of his hand. Sure, it hurt. But pain was a farce. Pain was lies. Pain only had as much command as you let it. And he was bored. Bored and thinking about things he knew he shouldn't be.

Officer Gordon's statement lay on his mind. You must have a family somewhere, he had said. Pfft! Family! What the hell did he know about family? The last time he'd even thought about them had been nine years ago when he'd heard that somebody had decimated his father's grave. Not that he'd really cared. He remembered that he'd gone to see it. He hadn't thrown flowers down like the other mourners. He'd just stared at it. And what more was he expected to do? His father had been a complete and total psycho!

“Like father like son.” he muttered to himself.

Family was a strong word. He'd only had a family once and it had been taken away from him. He had found a family in one that he had broken up. But now she was gone. He thought about her sometimes, but never dwelt on it. Sure, it had been a tough ride, but he'd come out the other end a bigger man!

“B-boss?”

He looked up from his place on the floor, popping his lips in boredom as he did so. He rolled his eyes when he saw that it was one of the fat angels. The one with the phone inside him, if he remembered.

“We-we found him, boss.”

Excellent.

“About time.” he mumbled to himself.

Newcomer had been missing since the incident in one of the holding rooms. It seems that both he and Sweetheart had disappeared together. The thought made him scowl. It wasn't like the kid would be using his time well, after all. Little shit didn't even know what to do with a woman!

“Bring him in.” he motioned to the fat angel, placing the small knife back in his pocket.

He could already hear the boy outside, probably whining and mumbling to himself. Big mistake. Crybabies always pissed him off. Sure, he liked Newcomer. But there was no room for favourites in an army. Especially when he was the one running the show. The little shit would have to learn sometime.

The whining sound became louder as Newcomer's head popped around the corner, slung like a sack of potatoes between two of his fellow angels. His head lolled towards the floor as he was dragged in, unable to meet his boss in the eye. Damn, that pissed him off.

He was in a killing mood. He wouldn't kill the kid, that much he was sure of. No. He was too good at what he did. He was the most reliable. The most deluded bastard of them all! And it wouldn't do to go sacrificing his best soldier now, would it? But the kid needed to learn some manners, and he would be the one to do it.

Newcomer let out a pained, animal-like cry when the men dropped him to the floor. One kicked him in the ankle quite softly. Whether that was meant to be reassuring or not, he wasn't sure. He shot the man daggers, bringing his lips back to show primal teeth. The angel seemed to cower under the weight of the gaze as he and his counterpart slunk from the room. Newcomer sniffed, still not looking up at him.

It was time the boy had to grow up.

“....Come to join us finally.” he mumbled angrily, his gaze moving over towards Newcomer. “How tactile. Just when I was beginning to calm down.”

Newcomer trembled, though he still didn't look up. The Joker sighed, heaving as he pulled himself up off of the floor. His goddamn leg was still a bit stiff from where that big lug, Marty had stabbed him. He stalked forward a step as he looked down on Newcomer. The fallen angel.

“You think I wouldn't find you, huh?” he mumbled angrily. “Ya think I'm stupid?”

Newcomer shook his head, still looking down at the floor. A little strand of black hair dripped down from behind his face, and it made him look downright pathetic. The Joker puffed out his lips, poking at the insides of his scar with his tongue.

“No?” he rephrased for the boy. “No? Then why'd'ya run away like a scared little girl? Did you feel personally responsible for jeopardising what I've made? Did you think I wouldn't take too kindly to your little....mistake?”

Newcomer remained still, his head bowed down low at the concrete. As quick as a flash, anger flared up inside of The Joker and he struck out at Newcomer. The blow connected hard with the boy's face and he fell to the floor, letting out a pathetic cry as he did so. The Joker spat on the floor beside Newcomer, looking down at the pathetic limp body laying before him. Newcomer slowly rose his head from the concrete, a small trickle of blood coming from his mouth. He didn't attempt to get back up or to wipe away the blood. Instead, he looked up at his leader, dumbstruck and fallen.

The Joker snorted through his nose, his anger gone as quickly as it had come. He looked down at Newcomer, his big terrified eyes looking watery and weak as he beheld his leader's anger. It pleased him to see the boy quiver. He hadn't expected to feel this way. He had expected to feel bad about punishing the boy, as one of the only recruits that he didn't want to murder. But he didn't. He felt a small thrill of triumph and a primal, animal need to lash out at the boy, so that he could be taught his place. Survival of the fittest. That was what defined the leaders from the followers and The Joker had never been one to follow.

He took in a slow breaththrough his nose and smoothed back his hair with his hands.

“What do you think the correct....punishment might be for something as deliberate as killing one of my nice hostages?” he lulled, stroking his chin for emphasis. The little droplets of blood on the back of his hand collected into a stream and a single drop of blood fell from his fingers and onto the floor.

“Because there's no room for mistakes in my world, kid.” he shook his head. “No, no, no. No mistakes!”

Newcomer's eyes fell to the floor once more. A small whimper came from behind his lips and The Joker felt another well of anger well up inside him. Goddamnit, he hated cry babies! Throwing his arms out in front of him, he darted forward. Newcomer flinched away, but wasn't quick enough to avoid him. The Joker grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet, so that the boy stood about three inches shorter than him. The height advantage pleased him and he took full advantage of it as he loomed over the boy.

“Don't you see what I'm trying to do?” he barked, so that Newcomer flinched and let out a low whine. “Don't you understand that I'm trying to help you freakin' people? Don't you want your goddamn wings back?”

Newcomer's eyes were wide as he hurriedly nodded his head up and down. He swallowed and The Joker tightened his grip around the collar of the boy's shirt, enjoying it when Newcomer's mouth squeezed together like he was sucking on a lemon.

“Oh, you do, do ya?” he barked in Newcomer's face, laughing. “Then why'd ya act like you don't? What's the point in lying to yourself like that, huh? Don't you understand your own motives? Your own desires?”

He dropped Newcomer to the floor. The boy landed with a thump on his backside with his hands splayed out behind him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. The Joker tittered to himself, but regained his composure as he smacked his lips together. This stupid kid hadn't had nearly enough, but now wasn't the time. He needed to get things done.

“I knew a guy like you once.” he spoke slowly “no family, no friends. He followed me like a dog follows its master. I'd even go so far as to say that he was a friend. And one day, I got into a little.....trouble. Now this guy, he didn't try to stop what was happening. No. No, he instead sat back and watched as they pulled my toe nails out. All that senseless loyalty – gone. Lost to fear.”

The Joker turned back towards Newcomer and looked him square in the eye. Another warm trickle of blood fell from his fingertips and he toyed with the end of the knife in one of his pockets. It felt good against his skin and for a moment, he thought about giving Newcomer his own signature smile.

“So ya know what I did?”

Newcomer swallowed a lump in his throat and slowly shook his head from side to side. The Joker licked his lips as he fought the urge to bar his teeth. He walked slowly forward, one step, then two. Finally, with a third step, he reached Newcomer. Bending down onto his haunches, he looked Newcomer in the eye and held his gaze for a few moments. The boy was trembling now, a trickle of sweat running down his brow. The Joker slowly raised his top lip in an animal snarl, remembering something that he didn't want to as his thoughts turned to Officer Gordon's comment. He leant in towards Newcomer until his lips were beside the boy's ear and angrily whispered:

“I made the fear go away. I gave him a smile.”

Newcomer trembled. A small whimper escaped his lips, though The Joker was sure that the boy didn't fully understand the implications of giving someone a smile such as his. With a loud bark, he pushed the boy backwards onto the concrete. Newcomer landed with a loud thump on the floor as he tried to scrabble away. Rising to his feet, The Joker pulled the small knife from inside his pocket and began to walk towards the boy.

“But you wouldn't betray me, would you?” he asked as he stalked towards the boy. “You know better than that, don't ya?”

Newcomer nodded his head frantically up and down as the head angel descended upon him. It was a pitiful sight to behold and The Joker felt a little anger burning up inside him at the boy's weakness. He stopped walking as he stood over Newcomer, looking down angrily at him. He knew the boy needed to be punished and he would deliver it accordingly. He would try not to enjoy it, but it was unlikely. Very unlikely.

“But you've done wrong, kid.” he snarled. “And that's strike one.”

Jim sat in the darkness, wondering exactly what was going to happen. He was thinking about what The Joker had said about his family and how he had reacted when he had asked him about his own family. It had obviously hit a soft spot, that much was certain. But Jim couldn't understand why. This man, this crazed, deranged man that had captured the entire Major Crimes Department, scared of a question about his family? It couldn't be.

Jim's head was pounding. His head throbbed from where The Joker had hit him and he couldn't rid himself of the taste of blood inside of his mouth. He'd opened up that damn cut again. There was a cold draft in the empty room and Jim shivered in his chair. He was pestered by questions and niggling thoughts. Where had he gone so wrong? Where was his team? What had happened to the Batman? And why was he even here in the first place?

It seemed that there would never be an answer to his questions. It was difficult at best to reason anything out of the crazed clown's mouth.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Jim raised his head from his chest, squinting into the darkness. What was that noise? What if The Joker was back for another chat? Jim waited, listening to the sound. It almost sounded distant, as if it were happening from somewhere far off. He wondered whether it was some of The Joker's goons, entertaining themselves with something menial. Most of them were seriously mentally ill, after all. Jim shivered at the thought of the harm that they could do if left to their own devices.

“Gordon!”

Out of the shadows, there came the voice that Jim had been hoping to hear. And soon, out of the darkness he came. Camouflaged so well against the shadows, Jim almost missed him. The dark crusader swooped in front of him, his dark eyes cast long against his face in the darkness.

“Thank Christ!” Jim gasped as he beheld the Batman. “How did you find us?”

The Batman swept around behind Jim, holding a gadget in his hand. There was a whizzing sound and the flying of sparks behind his back as the Batman cut away at the handcuffs. Jim almost lurched forward onto his face as his arms were set free ad he rubbed at his wrists where the cuffs had cut into them.

Batman plucked something from his belt and Jim saw that he was holding the little black screen that Jim also had one of. They had used it to communicate during the fire. So that was how he had found him! He must have had a tracking device plugged into the thing.

“Where are your men?” the dark, gravelly voice asked him.

Jim shook his head. As soon as he had been slung out of the fire truck, he and his men had been separated.

“What about the hostages?” Jim asked him hurriedly, aware that at any time they could be discovered. “Did you get them out?”

The Batman's eyes narrowed a fraction as he frowned. Jim thought that for a minute, he looked a little murderous. Obviously, The Joker had been screwing him around just as much as the Gotham Police Department.

“It was a decoy.” the Batman replied, sounding irritable. “Here.”

He handed Jim a small gun and Jim instantly felt all the better for having it. He knew it was against the Batman's rules to kill, but it certainly wasn't against Jim's if he had to. He admired the Batman for even carrying the gun to him. It was almost out of character for him to go back against himself like that. But then again, there wasn't anything normal about the situation. Jim was still getting to grips with it all himself.

Jim nodded to the Batman, who instantly nodded back and slunk away into the shadows. Jim followed quickly, hot on the Batman's heels as his cape flicked out behind him. Jim was going to get out of here if it was the last thing that he did. He had to get back to Barbara and make sure that they were safe. He had to get them into a secure location and away from the madman that had threatened their lives.

The hall was bigger than Jim had first thought. He remembered the position of the door that The Joker had barged through and tried to navigate his way towards it in pursuit of the Batman. He ran across the concrete, occasionally slipping over something squelchy on the floor. He hoped to God it wasn't what he thought it was.

They reached the door. The Batman slunk up against it and Jim followed suit. Slowly, Batman reached out to touch the handle of the door with his gloved hand. He turned the knob painfully slowly and Jim could feel his heart beating a mile a minute. His head was pounding and he hoped that it was lighter wherever they were going. Jim's vision was failing him in his age and he couldn't see very well in the darkness.

With the most inaudible of creaks, the door opened. A sliver of light stretched across the floor as the door creaked open slowly. The Batman peered inside, motioning to Jim that there were two men opposite the door. Jim nodded, preparing himself for the attack. With a swoop, the Batman leapt through the door and launched himself onto one of the masked men standing beside the door. Jim barged in through the door, gun pointed forward. A guard came at him, brandishing a rifle. Jim skipped to the side before the weapon fired with a loud bang, knocking the rifle to the side and punching the masked man in the face. The man faltered but did not fall and Jim drew back for another hit.

Crack!

Jim's fist connected with the porcelain mask and it shattered. The man fell backwards, dropping his gun as he did so. Jim swooped in to dismantle the man's gun and turned to the Batman to see that the dark knight was waiting for him to follow down the hall. The masked clown lay on the floor, and Jim was able to see through a break in the porcelain. He could see a single closed eye. Jim's fist stung like a bitch, but he turned on his heel and followed the Batman down the hall, zipping up his bulletproof vest as he did so.

They sped down the hallway on silent feet. Jim followed closely behind Batman, hoping that the swish of the man's cape would not give them away. They reached another corner and both immediately threw themselves against it. Through the silence, they could hear a banging coming from above them. Jim assumed that that was where his men were being kept. For a moment, he thought about Romerez and worried for her safety.

The Batman immediately charged around the corner and Jim followed suit. A shout was heard and then a single round was fired before Jim took aim. Sparks flew as a bullet bounced away from the Batman's body armour and Jim slid to the floor underneath the aim of another gun. As he heard the gun go off and watched the bullet fly over his head, he took aim and fired. The bullet flew through the air and Jim could almost see the shock waves fly through the air as it sped towards the masked clown. The bullet connected. The man fell, screaming and clutching at his now shattered knee cap.

The Batman took care of the other two clowns with two well-aimed punches and a swerving kick. The man fell to the floor, each grunting as they did so. Jim ran up to the man that he had shot and immediately put the gun to his head. He wasn't aiming to kill. These were patients from Archym, after all! The man continued to scream as he clutched at his broken knee cap and Jim was terrified that the screams resounded around the building. With the butt of his gun, Jim hit the man square on the head. He fell like a sack of potatoes, now silent.

They continued to run through the corridors, looking for a set of stairs. Each room they passed, they looked in. But there was no such luck. Jim ran behind the Batman, beginning to tire. Finally, they reached a set of stairs. Jim took them two at a time as he followed behind the Batman. They reached the second level and as soon as Jim looked down the hallway, he made a promise to himself that he would free Romerez.

Guns fired. The whole building was aware of their arrival now. Jim hid behind the Batman as they ran, the bullets whizzing past them. Obviously, these men had no such experience with guns and Jim hoped to take advantage of it.

“There!” the Batman rumbled, pointing at a room surrounded by three men.

Jim nodded and ran full pelt up the the men. He squealed to a halt behind a pillar, taking careful aim at the men standing in front of the room. He could hear it now. The banging. His men were in there, damnit and he was going to get them out! Taking aim, Jim fired a round from his gun. He missed and instantly ducked back behind the pillar as a series of bullets whizzed past his head. He could see the Batman running forward towards them, fists closed and raised. He ran towards a clown at full speed and pushed his gun aside like a rag doll, punching him square in the face.

Jim reeled around the pillar and took aim again. It was a big room and he was certain that any moment now, more clowns would arrive to take care of them. The thought spurred him on, determined to get to his men before that could happen. He fired his gun and a clown went down, his precision rifle falling to the floor.

Jim wheeled away from the pillar and ran flat out towards the door. The Batman was dancing with the remaining clown, with the clown in a painful looking arm lock. He reached the door in a matter of seconds.

“Get away from the door!” he yelled before booting the door.

It didn't budge. Jim tried again and felt the door give way. He kicked at the door a third time and it fell forward into the darkness. Jim squinted into the dark and dingy room. Suddenly, the smell of death hit him in the face. He could smell the strong scent of blood and for a second, panic froze him. What had happened? Had Romerez bled to death?

“Gordon!”

Suddenly, out of the darkness, there they were! His men! Several of them looked bruised and battered, with bloody lips and scalded faces. Jim looked down onto the floor, where he could see a body. His face fell. Looking down at the body, he realised that it was Officer Perry. He had been a good and brave man and suddenly, Jim felt a huge wave of guilt splash against his insides. If it hadn't been for his mistakes, then Perry would still be there.

“Gordon! What the hell took you so long?”

He looked up. Standing there, supported by another man and in her torn and tattered riot gear, stood Romerez. She looked almost angry, but relieved. Jim knew that look well and he fought the urge to smile despite his panic.

“Get them out of here!” he heard the Batman bark. “I'm going for The Joker!”

Jim nodded. He knew what he needed to do.

Author's Note's : Dun dun dun! What's Jim going to do now?