A/N: Sorry it took so long, guys! Been busy with the holidays and whatnot. And I may or may not have been distracted by writing a tenth walker for LOTR...ahem. ANYWAY.
Thanks for the reviews, and special thanks once again to Lovelorn who has been great encouragement for me. :)
Disclaimer: Dude, seriously, I don't own the movie or any of the characters owned by Warner Brothers. I'd keep the Joker under lock and key if I did.
WARNING: The Joker is crazier in this chapter. Meaning more blood and guts. Pun intended. Consider yourself warned!
Lesser warning: There might be a few errors since I was so hurried to get this up so try and ignore them if you can!
Peter Voss had been such an utter disappointment. The man had squealed like a gutted pig once the Joker started using his knife on him but the Clown Prince couldn't help the lack of joy in it. Voss had been the first to not only defy him, but also try to kill him as well. The Joker had expected the pig to fight back; to do something. Anything! Instead the man had cried and begged for his life, right up until the Joker had given the man a bloody Glasgow smile.
To make matters worse the Joker had returned to the cabin to find Sophie gone, having been chased by the notorious rapist, Christian.
Now, irritated, bloodied and just downright pissed off, the Joker played with his weapons, speaking quietly as he did so, "Are any of you fucking capable of following directions?"
Garrett, along with a few others, who had accompanied the Joker, stood as stiff as statues by the far wall. They hardly dared to breathe just in case their boss decided to turn his ire on them next.
The Joker's right hand man was a little concerned for his boss. After all, the man was talking to a room full of dead people. Bodies were strewn throughout the house wherever a fight had taken place; all torn up beyond recognition. Garrett had gunned down a few of the hopeless clowns himself, but the Joker had been all for killing most of them.
"Lighter!" The Joker clicked his fingers impatiently, and one of the clowns hastily threw his own personal one forwards.
The bodies and the majority of the house had already been soaked in gasoline. Now all that was needed was a little...push. Cackling, the Joker watched as the flames licked rapidly at his former clowns before he exited the building.
"Let that be a lesson to you guys, too. If you don't fucking do as you're told," The Joker waggled his finger at them like a teacher scolding a student, "I'll kill ya. Capeesh?"
"Yes, boss!" The four answered.
"Good. Now get a-walkin'. Find them!"
By late afternoon, the temperature had dropped to a chilly minus five degrees; creating deadly ice slicks on the old roads. The Lamborghini simply slid where the ice wanted it to, before Bruce corrected it with appropriate acceleration and breaking. Having made the arrangement to collect the new Tumbler that night, Bruce was now on his way back to the rebuilt manor.
It was nice not to be surrounded by towering skyscrapers, and paparazzi scoping out his every move. Plus, being in the city was a throwback to what had happened three years ago, and despite his best efforts to put it behind him, it just wasn't possible.
While keeping the Lamborghini at a sedate speed, Bruce enjoyed his cruise through the trees before something white flashed from his peripheral. The tires squealed, screeching against the wet road as Bruce forced the car to a standstill. It slid in the wet before settling just inches from a treacherous trench on the shoulder.
"What the hell was that?" Bruce muttered to himself and stepped out, shoes crunching on the gravel.
A naked woman was curled up in a haphazard sparse area of broken branches. Bruce immediately hastened back to his car and fetched the only thing that would be able to provide some modesty. A fire blanket. It was better than nothing. On hearing the crunch of gravel, the woman raised her head to reveal beautiful, watering storm grey eyes. There were several leaves and twigs scattered throughout her brown locks, and there were bruises beginning to form on the side of her face.
With growing dread and anger, Bruce's eyes followed the pattern of various bruises and abrasions, coming to the quick conclusion the woman had been man-handled. And, judging by the copious amount of blood lining her thighs, she'd either been raped or injured, or perhaps both.
And to make matters worse, Bruce recognised her. Sophie Havens.
Had the Joker done this to her? Had she escaped?
"S-stay away!" Sophie croaked, curling further in on herself to hide the injuries rather than her nakedness.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Bruce said softly, coming forward with slow, sedated steps, holding the fire blanket out to the side with his right hand as he made a pacifying gesture with his left. "I just want to help you."
Sophie became more and more tense the closer he got. Bruce made no attempt to touch her just yet, simply holding the blanket out. "You must be cold. Please, just let me help you, Sophie."
At the mention of her name, the woman was a little more attentive yet still shied away like a frightened animal as he draped the blanket over her form. It barely covered anything but was better than nothing. Bruce pitied her; she was barely out of her teenage years and already subjected to the cruelty of the Joker and the harsh reality of being treated like a piece of meat.
Getting Sophie on her feet was another problem. Whenever his skin touched hers, she would shriek and scream at him not to touch her. Eventually, Bruce did manage to get her up, in an odd way. Though she wouldn't let him touch her, Sophie quietened as he allowed her to use him as a support to get to her feet.
"You need medical attention. My mansion isn't far away."
"I-I...don't..." Sophie shuddered violently, wrapping her arms around herself like a security blanket; the fire blanket falling discreetly from its seat on her shoulders. "He took it..."
Bruce carefully picked the fire blanket up and draped it over her shoulders. "Took what, Sophie?" A choked sob was his only reply. He vied for another approach. "Can you walk to the car? Or do you want me to carry you?"
Although he was Batman, trained and experienced in the arts of fighting crime and saving the innocent, he was still a gentlemen but this was taking consideration too far. This woman needed medical attention as soon as possible, and probably a mental analysis too. Throwing caution to the ground, Bruce carefully but quickly hauled her up into his arms, keeping her tucked securely to his chest so Sophie couldn't bite or hit him without effort.
"It's all right, you're safe." Bruce said softly, despite the fact the woman was screaming very loudly in panic. He deposited her in the passenger side, buckled her in and was in the driver's side before she had a chance to escape. The Lamborghini purred onwards; its velvet rumble now joined with the quiet sniffles of Sophie who had become one with the door.
Despite the fact it was incredibly unlikely that Sophie wished to discuss what happened, Bruce tried again anyway. "Sophie, what happened?"
A stony silence and quiet sniffles were all the billionaire had for a reply. It came as a relief when the turn off for his mansion appeared through the trees. Bruce planted his foot on the accelerator, racing up to the huge building with pure V12 power beneath his foot. Alfred, having heard the monstrous engine, was already waiting on the steps of the entrance, concern marring his aging profile.
"Master Wayne, what-"
"No time to explain, Alfred," Bruce rushed around to the passenger side and swung the door open. Sophie had fallen unconscious, her eyes flickering behind her lids. "Can you get a doctor out here?"
"Of course, sir."
As the Bruce lifted the woman into his arms, Alfred recognised her as the one from the news, albeit a less clothed Sophie Havens. Without another word to his faithful butler, Bruce moved up the steps and into the mansion.
Bruce paced impatiently outside of one of the many guestrooms in the mansion; this one being directly adjacent to his own. Alfred had demanded to have a quick fill-in of the story so far, and with quick, precise wording Bruce had repeated the entire situation. The butler had then disappeared to prepare a meal for the young woman just in case.
Brisk, professional footsteps echoed from the door when it swung open to reveal the doctor; an aging woman with a no nonsense temperament and a constant stern expression.
"Mr Wayne, I demand to know just what right a businessman has to do such a thing to-"
"I found her on the roadside, Dr. Evans, just as she is now." Bruce deadpanned, anxious to squeeze past her so he could see the Joker's previous captive.
"Be that as it may, Mr Wayne," Dr Evans sniffed with a dignified air, "Why you advise discretion on this matter is beyond my knowledge. However, if my records happen to be examined, I shall not withhold any information concerning this appointment. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Dr Evans. May I enquire as to just what is wrong with her?"
At his genuinely concerned expression, Dr Evans softened her own and sighed. "That woman has been raped, Mr Wayne. Several times, I might add. There are also signs of forced entry through the mouth, which I can only assume to be fellatio. There a several deep incisions on the inside of her thighs. I've given her a light sedative for the pain, and stitched the wounds.
The stitches will dissolve naturally in a couple of days or so. I still strongly advise that you take this woman to the hospital, Mr Wayne. Although the injuries aren't life threatening, they will require constant monitoring and attention should bleeding occur. Not to mention the psychological damage that is possibly present, considering what you told me of her reaction towards you. Other than that, Mr Wayne, I can do no more for her."
Bruce barely managed to keep a straight face during the doctors explanation, staring after her retreating form for minutes after she'd disappeared from view. Burning, white hot rage was sizzling through the very fibre of his being. Whoever had done that to the woman would pay, dearly. He was broken from his angry musings when Alfred moved into his line of sight, face drawn with tight anger.
"Master Wayne, Dr Evans had one more thing to say on her exit."
"Which is what?"
"Miss Havens was...well, sir, as the doctor quoted, 'The hymen was only broken just recently so evidence would suggest this woman was a virgin before that pig got to her'." Alfred could already see the cogs ticking; the tightening of Bruce's form as he turned and strode into the room.
Said girl lay peacefully amongst a sea of soft pillows and white silk sheets. Despite the bruises, her face was slack and serene. Wherever the sedative had taken her, it was certainly far from the horror that had occurred earlier.
"It doesn't make any sense, Alfred," Bruce intoned quietly, desperate to distract himself from the atrocities performed on Sophie. "The Joker doesn't take hostages. It's not his style, nor is raping."
"Perhaps one of his clowns kidnapped her."
"No, the Joker came for her twice. There must be something between them." Bruce's brow furrowed in thought as he began to pace again.
Alfred glanced at the form of the sleeping woman. "Whatever it is, Mr Wayne, I'm sure we can figure it out. But for now, let's contact the Commissioner and see what he has to say on the matter."
Bruce nodded in agreement, giving Sophie another fleeting glance before exiting the room, Alfred close on his heels as the butler gently closed the door.
Garrett dragged the sorry excuse for a man along the carpet, sneering as Christian sobbed and snivelled, begging for his life. A clown walking just behind kicked the back of his head, quietening him. It had taken them no less than an hour to find the pathetic moron stumbling blindly through the bush, tucking himself back into his pants. There had been blood on his thighs. The sight had told Garret everything he needed to know. A quick car ride later and he was now hauling the idiot through another of the Joker's elusive hideaways.
Said man was sitting on several boxes of ammunition, lazily sharpening one of his favourite knifes. A selection of clowns stood around him, all armed and speaking quietly to each other. Garret all but threw the lesser man in front of him, smirking as Christian fell flat on his face with a muffled cry. The clowns chuckled before the Joker signalled to be silent.
It went deadly quiet, save for the snivelling sobs of Christian. The Joker did not look at the man, and sucked noisily at his scars. The sound disturbed most of the clowns, save for Garrett and a few others that had been with the Joker for a long time. Christian was whimpering like a cowardly dog, and the sour smell of urine became apparent. And then the Joker started to laugh, quietly at first until the cruel sound echoed.
Sliding down the boxes, and landing perfectly on his feet, the Joker gave Christian a vicious kick between his neck and shoulder. Something cracked or broke, if the man's screeching cry was of any indication. A number of the clowns winced but did not look away.
"So...ah...Chrissy...what's up?" The Joker smacked his lips and circled the prone form the way a lion hunts a gazelle.
A myriad of excuses and rationalisations came spewing from the man's mouth all at once, only to be silenced by the Joker by another kick, this one to the ribs.
"Tell me...what you did...to Sophie." The Joker's voice had lost all humour and was completely flat, devoid of emotion. Christian raised his head, despite his instincts screaming at him not to; the Joker strived for eye contact. It was all he could do not to disgrace himself further in front of the Clown Prince's eyes.
"I...I raped her." Came the reply.
"And?" The Joker prompted, a deadly tone creeping into his voice. "Tell me everything."
Christian swallowed hard, meeting the Joker's eyes whenever the man stopped in his prowling to look at him. "I raped her three times. I used a knife to carve my initials into her thighs but she moved too much so it just looks like a disarray of lines." The man checked the Joker's expression and was nervous to find it blank. The Joker rotated his hand, an incentive to keep talking.
"I-I...I hit her when she kept crying. I don't know how many times I hit her. I couldn't stand her screaming...so...so...I raped her mouth." A cricket chirped and the quick scuffle of feet was all the warning Christian had before a sharp, ripping pain radiated up the back of his calf. He screamed, raggedly as the Joker did the same to his other calf, cackling as his cries grew louder.
Moving around to face the now prostate man, the Joker crouched down in front of him. "Sssshhhh. Now, what happened after that?"
It took several attempts for Christian to answer and when he did it was barely audible. "D-don't know. I left her on the road side and started going back to the cabin."
The Joker looked around at Garrett with raised brows. The man hastily said, "No one was by the road, boss. There was blood on the ground, and tire marks further up the road. Someone picked her up."
Grabbing Christian by the jaw, he slid the knife between the man's teeth, ignoring his protests. The blood stained blade always made the man retch but the Joker didn't allow it, holding his mouth closed and making him swallow the contents of his stomach.
"You wanna know how I got these scars?" The Joker grinned, the scars pulling taught beneath the red paint. Christian began to shake his head before the knife cut the inside of his mouth. He whimpered deliriously, the blood loss from his legs making him dizzy.
"One day, I met a guy. We were great friends for about a week until he went crazy. It was all the rave, back then, oh yes. He did it to all his friends." The Joker bared his teeth. "So he goes and does this to me, sayin' that I was a freak now too." Gripping the man's jaw tighter, the Joker all but snarled in his face. "I hate that word." And then his expression changed again, the anger gone from his face. "So answer one more question for me, Chrissy. Was Sophie a virgin?"
Christian tightened his jaw, teeth clamping down on the metal of the knife in vain hopes of stopping it from sliding any further. The Joker was waiting with raised brows. A tight nod was the only reply he received. Humming thoughtfully, the Joker carefully removed the knife and gave the man a pat on the head before standing. "Good boy. That's everything I needed to know."
Rising up with a grimace, Christian managed to roll onto his back, thanking whatever God out there that the Joker hadn't killed him. "Thank you, boss. Could I get some bandages for my-"
"Bandages?" The Joker loomed above him, a dark grin tugging at his lips. "Whatcha need those for?"
Christian's blood curdling scream ricocheted about the room as the Joker drove the knife straight into his crotch before dragging it with practised efficiency just beneath his ribcage. Garrett managed to keep a hold of his stomach as Christian's entrails spilled out onto the floor, giving off a potent odour that the Joker ignored. The man gave one sobbing breath before going still.
He was dead.
Avoiding the mix of intestines and a variety of other organs, the Joker wiped his knife clean on the man's shirt before fluttering his hands at the body. "Someone get rid of that." When no volunteers were forthcoming, the Joker all but roared, "NOW!"
Two masked clowns jumped forward and dragged the body away while another went to get equipment that could clean up the remaining mess. Dusting off his hands and returning the now clean knife to his jacket pocket, the Joker gave his followers a wide smile that spoke volumes.
"So, now that that is all fine and dandy. Charles, what tyre prints were left on the roadside, hmm?" The Joker strutted over to one of the four he had assigned to fetch Christian.
"Not sure, boss, they're a custom tread. Not listed on the general market." Charles said nervously, knowing ignorance irritated the Joker.
"Well you better fucking find it or you're going to join that." The Joker tossed his head toward the pile of steaming organs and urine. Charles took off as quickly as he could, muttering a meek acknowledgement. Several of the others looked as though they'd like to dash away as fast as possible too. "The rest of you, I want that girl found. Alive."
"What about the person that took her, boss?" Garrett asked, ready to obey the whims of the Joker, even if it could mean his life.
The Joker licked at his lips and cocked an brow speculatively. "Kill 'em."
Sophie groaned, blinking several times to clear her vision of bleariness. Where on earth was she? The room was elaborate and well furnished, as was the bed she rested in. What had happened? A gasp tore from her throat when she realised the Joker definitely wasn't here. Which meant...
Images, sensations and sounds filled the expanse of her brain, reliving it all over again. Crawling to the edge of the bed, Sophie vomited violently, the taste of the man still lingered within the recesses of her mouth. It was all her mind could see. A foul, male body thrusting himself into her mouth, hands clutching her skull so she couldn't escape. Perspiration glittered on every inch of her skin as her stomach heaved again.
Wiping at her mouth, Sophie gingerly looked beneath the sheets and clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. There was dried blood from when Christian had penetrated her but also from the knife wounds he'd given her. Harming herself from depression had been completely different to what he'd done to her. He'd enjoyed trying to slice his initials into her skin. Sophie's lips trembled as the one realisation kept repeating itself over and over again inside her head.
He'd taken it.
What she'd been saving for the right man, he'd taken without a care for thought. Relinquishing a sob, Sophie dumped herself unceremoniously onto the floor, all but crawling towards the porcelain tiles she could see through a doorway. What felt like hours were only minutes when she finally managed to crawl into the shower. The water beat down hard on her back, covering the sounds of her distraught, pained cries.
Despite her distress, Sophie had found a new toothbrush and toothpaste and was cleaning any remnants of what remained from that man. It wasn't until she tasted blood in her mouth that she deemed it to be enough, but the feeling was still there. Sophie screamed, beating her fists on the shower walls in attempt to rid herself of the images and sensations still tingling on her person.
"Joker...where are you...JOKER!" She screamed and her tears began anew. The Joker had been more of an influence on her life then she first realised. Of all the people she'd met in her lifetime, he had shown that he cared. Why hadn't he rescued her? Why had he left her alone in a cabin full of murders, rapists and criminals?
Bruce had come racing up the stairs upon hearing the woman screaming, bursting into her room until he saw the mist seeping through the open door to the bathroom. Breathing a deep sigh, the billionaire ventured closer, not wanting to intrude but needing to find out whether she was ok and not drowning herself. By peering slightly around the door, he could dimly see her reflection in the mirror. The pale expanse of her back was all he could see but the harsh rise and fall of her shoulders told him she was definitely alive. Perhaps not well, but alive.
Taking a step back, Bruce cleared his throat and heard something hit the shower fall. It sounded like a toothbrush. "Miss Havens? Are you all right in there?"
A sob was his answer and then a quiet, "No."
Bruce waited for further explanation but when it wasn't forthcoming he ventured for another try. "Can you manage getting out on your own?"
More silence greeted him, save for the water pounding against glass and porcelain tiles. Sophie rubbed despairingly at her arms; most of her skin was raw and almost bloodied from scrubbing herself so hard. Logic had been the only thing stopped her from doing the same thing to the crude initials on her thighs. It had taken her enough energy to get across the room. Was it possible to get back? Bruce Wayne had indirectly saved her life, and for that she owed him some degree of gratitude. "I don't think so. Could you help me...please?"
The thought of him seeing her naked didn't sit well, neither did the idea of him touching her again. It would only encourage her to relive everything again but if it was for her own well being, she had to deal with it. Bruce's answer came from his tall, muscled form stepping into the bathroom. Not that she could clearly recall the suit he'd been wearing before when he'd rescued her, but she was certain he'd put a new one on since then.
Bruce did not look at her, forcing himself to restrain baser desires as he fetched a clean towel from the bathroom cupboard. Carefully keeping his gaze over her head, he held the towel at arm's length. Sophie's heart thudded hyperactively at the thought of a man being so close to her, but she pushed it aside and by using the wall as support, got to her feet. After a few tries of turning the water off, she succeeded and stepped warily into the towel, grateful that Bruce was attentive enough that his skin did not brush hers at all.
"Thank you," She said so softly he strained to hear her.
"It's no trouble-"
"No," Sophie reached out and gripped the cuff of his suit. Bruce's rage hitched up a notch at the vulnerable, broken look in her grey eyes. "I mean, thank you. F-for saving me. I may be dead if you hadn't come along when you did."
Batman had been thanked a dozen times. Bruce however, had acted the spoilt rich boy so well that he hardly ever heard the words leave a person's lips. A ghost of a smile pulled at his mouth. "You're very welcome, Miss Havens. I'm glad you're safe."
"Please, Mr Wayne. Call me Sophie."
Bruce extended his arm in a flourish in the direction of the bedroom, until he saw her stagger and gently but quickly secured his arm around her back. Sophie's reaction was visible and clearly felt against his body as she tensed like a board. "I'm just helping you, Sophie. I'm not going to hurt you."
"S-sorry, Mr Wayne."
"No," Bruce said vehemently, his brows coming down. "You have no reason to be sorry. And call me Bruce."
A watery smile was his answer as he led her back to the bed. The sheets were bloodstained and filthy, so Bruce set her on the edge of the bed and bid her to sit there for a moment. Sophie waited patiently, patting at her skin with the towel without revealing her body too much. Her vision blurred and wavered, making her sway a little. Once again her stomach revolted against her but there was nothing to release save saliva, and dry heaving.
Bruce returned with a wheelchair he'd borrowed for keeping her within his household, to see her doubled over in pain, the towel almost falling off of her. "Sophie!" He rushed over to the wardrobe and tugged down a blanket from the top shelf. The woman was almost delirious, eyes wandering unfocused about the room. Bruce used the opportunity to gently towel her body dry before wrapping her pliant body securely in the blanket. Without wasting a moment, he placed her in the wheelchair and squatted to see her face. Placing his hands on her cheeks he said, "Sophie, can you hear me? I need you to calm down and breathe."
Sophie blinked blearily and shrieked when Bruce's face appeared directly in front of hers; his hands gentle but firm against her cheeks. He was speaking to her, but it took a few moments for her scattered brain to collect what they were. "Calm down. Breathe," Bruce imitated slow, even breathes through the nose and out through the mouth. Sophie copied him without even realising it, her eyes never leaving his as her heart rate levelled out and her stomach no longer turned upside down.
"Are you cold?" Bruce said softly, frowning as the tips of his fingers brushed against her damp hair. Sophie nodded jerkily, almost lulled to sleep by his soft, gravelly voice. "No, Sophie. You have to stay awake. How about some food? Or something to drink."
The thought of food made her want to grimace and she opted for the drink, already knowing that Bruce was the type of man who wouldn't give up. With a tight smile, Bruce rose from his crouch and wheeled her from the room. The fact that he had to abandon the wheelchair to get her down the stairs was problematic but doable. Once again, the woman was in his arms as he carried her through the immense hallway towards the kitchen.
Alfred was already there, preparing a dish that looked absolutely mouth-watering by the eye, but Sophie's stomach was still adamant at consuming anything solid. After three glasses of apple juice to raise her sugar levels and a glass of water, Sophie was feeling a little better. Alfred was regaling her with wild tales of the mischief Bruce got up to when he was younger, always exploring or getting himself into trouble.
"H-how long was I out for?" Sophie sat on comfortable plush chair that had been brought in from the dining room, despite her continuous protests. Bruce wouldn't hear a word of them. Said billionaire had excused himself momentarily; to do what, Sophie had no clue.
"Master Wayne brought you here on Tuesday afternoon, and it's now Wednesday. So you've been out for a good twenty-four hours or so, Miss Havens." Alfred's tone became very grandfatherly. "If you need to speak of what happened, I'm more than happy to listen."
"I appreciate the offer, Alfred, but the memories are too fresh. If I think or speak of them...I'll relive it," she whispered mostly to herself, eyes wide with dread.
Hastily changed the subject, Alfred made a few pointing gestures at the food he had prepared by slowly nudging it in her direction across the counter. The sight and the expression on his face made a laugh bubble from her throat unexpectedly. It surprised both of them before Alfred started laughing and she joined in, feeling as though a little of the weight had been lifted.
By the time seven rolled around, Sophie felt capable of having more to eat, having only nibbled sparingly on the delicious food Alfred had prepared hours earlier. Sitting at the elaborate dining table, dressed in comfortable pants and a jumper, Sophie tucked in to the generous helping of roast lamb and vegetables. The fact that she was seated at Bruce Wayne's table, in his mansion would have made her blanch on a normal day.
But the man had saved her life. Bruce wasn't just a well-known celebrity to her now. He was her friend; and this was his mansion. As lavish as it was, Sophie would never harp on about it the way some reporters do; they just didn't know the man. And technically, neither did Sophie. But, she was resolved to learn a thing or two about him until she was well enough to leave. Bruce had been quite insistent on her remaining in his mansion until she was completely healed, both mentally and physically.
Several times Sophie had tried to protest, saying it was too much trouble but Bruce hadn't budged and Alfred had also voiced his opinion that she should stay. For her physical health, it was deemed an excellent idea not to go back home. But as for the mental side of things, Sophie wasn't capable of sorting herself out even though she was a psychiatrist. And that could take months. Did Bruce even understand that fact? To make matters worse, Bruce had informed her that he'd hired a psychiatrist and that they were arriving in the morning.
A psychiatrist before reviewed by another psychiatrist. It was the first handful of bland humour she had shown the two men. It lightened the air and made the rest of the night a peaceful interlude to what happened the previous evening.
Arkham Asylum was still in disarray, lacking security on a number of levels and insufficient staff to scout the whole building. One person in particular had gained an errant strand of wire and was working quietly to bust the lock to their cell.
The lock clicked with finality and the cell door swung open and out stepped Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel.
"Get ready, Joker. I'm comin' for you." The woman purred and sauntered down the isle of cells, oblivious to the various catcalls and demands to be set loose, continuing towards the exit door with a high, ringing cackle.
*grins* I know, you hate me 'cause I have horrible cliff hangers. I was really proud of this chapter. I think I brought out Sophie's emotions the way it would normally happen if that occured in real life. Plus, I think I did ok with Bruce's reaction and personality but tell me if I didn't! Lend me your thoughts, my faithful readers!