"Joker."
The clown cackled.
"Good ta see ya Batsy! It's been a while-how's the family?", his tongue flicked over his mad red lips as his wild eyes travelled to the feline female clothed in leather and latex. "Oh, so you got yourself the goody goody boy-toy back. How romantic!", he batted his eyes.
Wind whipped Batman's cloak though the air but did naught to muffle the Joker's words, sending down flecks of white. The merciless winter would return to plague this February like the king clown's reemergence in Gotham. It had been a whisper on the streets.
The clown.
The clown.
The mad mad clown.
But it had been enough. The Joker was back, with hostages tied together, bound by dynamite and C4 waiting for the BOOM signal. The president too was under his mercy, a remote control clutched in her trembling fingers: her family held at gunpoint before her eyes.
Mr J had given her a choice, and as usual, Batman turned up, his blue eyes icy beneath his cowl and his fists rearing to slam in to the clown. Catwoman was here this time. Ready to sink her claws in to the Joker's neck and tear his heart straight out of his chest- or perhaps watch him bleed to death...slowly...painfully. For the pain he brought Harley.
"You know the game Batsy- we've been through this so so so many times!", The Joker chuckled, twiddling his bow tie. He brushed down his purple jacket and grinned at Selina, "Soooooo, how's the missus? It's been a-"
He was cut short by Catwoman jumping at him, claws an inch away from tearing his face apart. Before she had a chance to claw the Joker to death, Batman had struck him and the man was on the floor. The caped vigilante held the madman up by his jacket, "Listen here Joker, you don't- ARGH!"
Acid from the flower tucked in to the jacket pocket sprayed over Batman and he dropped the Joker. Selina picked up where she left off, pinning him to the glass window. The three of them were in the fifteenth floor of one of Gotham's commercial office buildings, the hostage situation lay two floors above them in a conference room and on the roof.
As the Joker continued taunting Catwoman, Madam President on the seventeenth floor stared in to the eyes of her husband and daughter, tears shamelessly dribbling down her cheeks. The whirring of helicopters outside didn't register in her ears, only the whimpering of her child and spouse, held at gunpoint by clown-masked figures. She was given an impossible choice. Kill the fifteen government officials tied on the roof, kill her family, or refuse and let everyone die.
Her mind raced to the two boat scenario those years ago.
This was the Joker. He had been doing it for all these years. Her parents had been on one of those boats. But there was Batman. There was hope. And the Justice League. They would be there.
It was fine. It was all fine. Yes, it would be fine.
Lightening shattered the consuming darkness of night for the briefest moment then gave way to the night once more. The president glanced at the window, then back down at the remote in her hands. She wouldn't condemn so many to death, nor would she condemn her family. She would wait- the heroes always came in the end.
Everything had been fine today, until a few hours ago. The president and various other government officials had met with the three so-called 'Ringleaders' of the magical organisation called 'the Council'. All had gone according to plan, deals were negotiated and peace would continue (apart from Amanda Waller's insistence on magical submission, an unnecessary complication). And then the bag came over her head and she felt the cold barrel press against her neck: 'Don't do anything stupid. We have your husband and child.' the man had said.
Where were those damned supers?! People were an inch from death! Oh heaven have mercy!
Glass shattered across the room. With it came a blur of gold, red and...lightening. It slammed the clown-masked men in to the walls before they had a chance to shoot. The president's child screamed as one of the Joker's men dropped unconscious to the floor besides her. Having demobilised the six henchmen with little effort, their saviour stood in front of the woman still clutching the dreaded remote control.
He nodded to her, "Madam President, Shazam at your service.", the dork that he was, Batson did finger guns.
Helping the President to her feet then untying her family, Shazam reassured her, "Don't you worry ma'am, Batman's dealing with the Joker and Cyborg's got the other hostages covered. I'll get you to safety just fine!"
***
Raven's head rested against Damian's shoulder and she curled in to him, relishing in the warmth of him. The temperature had drastically dropped in comparison to the last few days and the nights were chillier, Damian's body besides hers was a welcome comfort. Both for them talking advantage to the Manor's abundance of sitting rooms- all under appreciated architectural masterpieces- the two of them sank in to the plush fabric of a sofa, simply letting their thoughts slip off their tongues.
"I don't understand how Donna's slipped away like this, it's not looking well for Jonathan at this rate.", Raven sighed.
Damian chuckled, "I'm only supporting your and Jamie's efforts to stop Jonathan staring after her like a sick puppy- it's revolting!"
She rolled her eyes, pulling her sleeves over her fingers, "Don't you want him to be happy...at least a little? Come on, I know you do care (albeit only a little). So what can we do?"
They pondered that question for a few seconds, watching snowflakes flutter down through the panes of glass like a fleeting seasonal romance. A few ideas were thrown around but they weren't getting anywhere because the main problem hadn't been addressed: Donna was drifting away from being an Amazon. The girl- so lost in trying to fit in to the human life- had forgotten the identity she already held, the ideals she was supposed to stand for and the causes she was meant to fight for. The eccentricities about her and the way she could change from a giggly teenager to a fierce warrior in an instant were he best qualities- the ones that drew others to her, or at least, the ones that used to.
Finally, Damian said what they'd been thinking for the last two weeks: "I think she needs to go back."
Back.
To Themyscira.
That was quite the idea.
Perhaps they would voice it to Diana, if things worsened. Until then, it would be best to try pull the team together: train more together, go out together, be there for one another. Damian already knew from his father that the reconstruction of the Titans Tower was in the process of being completed, perhaps things would change when they left the Manor and Gotham Academy.
That was a strange thought. Leaving the Manor. It brought on a pang of something strange that made Raven look at Damian with concern. Sadness? Homesickness? Regret? All crammed in to one summed it up messily. Raven didn't feel nearly as much from Damian as she did others- his mental barricades were nearly impenetrable- but the emotions thy always bled between the cracks were the lowest ones, the hardships taking their toll on him.
Damian thought of the trialled and tested bond between him and his father. Was there anything left of it? Sometimes, his father was joking with him and all seemed well, then there were times when it wasn't. In those dark periods, Damian often wondered in Bruce hated him for being so imperfect and incapable of obedience (some might call it minor ODD). But that was ridiculous (Damian told himself) because he was still Bruce's son and still forgiven for his transgressions. Was it then partial hate? He could ask Raven: she could discover what Bruce really felt about Damian.
The boy considered it and shot the idea down. Stupid. He was being paranoid. So, so paranoid. Always with father.
Who could blame the trust issues?
And yet he could hold this demoness in hims arms and divulge all his mind-terrors as if she was an unbreakable safe that he was throwing all the negativity in to. He often thought on the matter. Was it weakness or strength, telling the demoness? Was it selfishness, just waning to get his problems off his chest and trusting them on to someone else? Was he simply using her to deal with his messed up life? Was it courageous to sacrifice his pride to this one person and tell her...almost everything. 'Almost everything', because there were some secrets of his own that not even he could access. A defence mechanism: the worst memories are locked away, beyond reach, to just cope.
His available memories were bad enough to plague his nights ceaselessly, what horrors were caged in the back of his mind that would cast him off the boast of sanity and in to the heart of the tempest of madness. A sociopath in his own right, Damian could only fly off the handle and straight in to a thunder cloud.
"Damian.", Raven's voice was tentative. "You've been quiet for so long and I can feel that you aren't right...what is it?", she moved out of his embrace and regarded him with frowning eyebrows.
He sighed, "Nothi-"
The buzzing from his trouser pocket told that they would be else-wise occupied. Damian picked up the phone, his mouth setting in a firm line at the voice on the other end- what reason did he have to contact them now?
"This favour that I ask of you, I will be in your dept, is more a personal matter.", Mr Leiwandowsky's smooth voice said, piquing the part-demons' interests. "There is a person I would like you to find. I know that the tracking abilities of both yourself and your demonic consort surpass that of nearly any other creature."
Damian asked, "In return for a favour?"
"That is correct."
A dangerous game, that one. Favours. Dept. When two preternaturals had a favour owed to the other, it's wasn't simply a spoken thing: favours had heavy weight and would always exist as an attachment to a being's soul until it was waived. Favours weren't granted to just anyone- with a dept against you, the claimant could make you do anything from dance to committing genocide. Trust was almost nonexistent in the world of turmoil that the preternaturals inhabited, but in the instance of favours, it was the greatest factor.
Neither Damian nor Raven's reputation was much to go by in terms of knowing their virtues, so both were bemused as to what he could mean by putting himself on such a vulnerable position. Raven considered that he attempting to trick them, then dismissed the idea: he bore them no ill will and hadn't malice in his heart- cutthroat ambition, yes, but not deceit.
Damian purses his lips, "Details?"
"They'll be readily available and waiting at the club."
The phone ended. It seemed they had a new mission to occupy themselves- and just as school was about to start the next day too, just wonderful.
***
Chains clamped around his wrists and his mouth tied shut, the Joker was incapacitated: to be wheeled off to Arkham -like all the other times. Something didn't rest easy in Bruce's mind. This plan had been to simple to take down compared to other times. It was bittersweet. Now, with the help of other heroes in the community, stopping a meagre plot like this was a piece of cake. Perhaps the Joker had other plans in store, or maybe things were just easy with powerful supers like Shazam and Cyborg available to help.
In the first years in the cowl, Batman was alone in battling crime. As more and more joined the cause of good (and some flickered between sides) it put less of a burden on him. Not that Batman would ever admit to finding it better working with others: 'I work alone'.
Bruce made sure Catwoman was besides him as he spoke to Gordon- the older man raised an eyebrow at the woman but made no comment. Their romance was widely recognised in Gotham- if they insisted on flirting at every damn opportunity, of course in would be obvious. Jim assumed this was one of the 'good times' with those two (they were never consistent, sometimes Jim would see them trying to rip each other to shreds; other times he thought they'd rip each other's clothes to shreds). The commissioner often tried to guess when they'd been together- he could usually tell by a slight smudge of red over Batman's mouth or disappearing behind the cowl and down his neck, even tiny rips in his cape- but Jim wouldn't say anything. It was a silent satisfaction, knowing Batman was as much a man as the rest of them.
Jim watched Batman slip off in to the shadows, followed by the feline seductress. Interestingly enough, the red-gold suited super flew after them, his chest crackling with electricity that trailed behind him like plane exhaust fumes. The only remaining super was Cyborg- who saw to the President and her family. Of all the Leaguers, Cyborg was the main liaison between the government and the hero JLA, as such wasn't unfamiliar with the President. He would see them back safely to the White House with all the other military personnel and ensure the press release would be in the heroes' favour.
All would go back to normal. In a city so filled with chaos, people had gotten used to 'going back to normal'.
One of the perks of living in the city of crime.
A.N:
Hello my darlings! I'm back with another chapter- pretty decent I think.
Its crazy how fast this year has gone- June already?!
I reckon you'll like what's coming up in the next few chapters. That's all I'm saying.
Thank you!
-Bats :3