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Laughter in the Dark	By : FlameWolf666 Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 9317 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Dark Knight or the Batman franchise. This story is just for fun and no profit will be made from it.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Author’s Note: I am endlessly blown away by how much praise this little fic has been getting. Never expected a Joker/OC fic to take off so much to be honest! Thanks so much, all of you!

Chapter Sixteen: Getting Closer
    Something big was happening, Marie could tell that by the flurry of activity from both Jonathan and Joker. The gaunt chemist was busy filling canisters and attaching them to what seemed to helium balloons. All of a sudden she got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. From the looks of it, they would be crashing a pretty big party. “Bon Jovi! I’m so glad to see you awake! We’re going to a big event and I need ya ta get all, uh, dolled up for me! Put on that purple suit of yours as well as some make-up,” Joker called from the area in front of the TV before going back to talking with a large group of thugs. Another group of thugs was being led led by Harley, who was dressed like a strange hybrid of a jester and a ring leader. A tiny top hat graced her blonde head and a too small, glittering, purple waistcoat with curled tails adorned her torso. In her right hand she carried a whip and in her left she carried a hoop. The men that trailed behind her were dressed like various species of dogs and hopped awkwardly on their back legs just like a quadruped would.
    Taking a closer look, Marie noticed the dog heads they wore were just a tad too big and wobbled slightly on their heads. They appeared to be made out of shoddy, worn fur that was ripped or burned in some spots. Torn, stained tutus graced their overweight bodies as they hopped after their ‘master’, sometimes turning a circle as they jumped. Some of them even yipped or barked, their pink collars jingling merrily as they went. Shuddering at the unnerving sight, the former Psychologist made her way back upstairs to do as the ‘Clown Prince’ had asked.
    She was just putting the finishing touches on her face paint when ‘Scarecrow’ came bursting into her room. Upon closer inspection, the stitched mask looked less like burlap and more like a strange flesh; almost as if it was alive in a way. The sewn on, jagged grin, and diamond shaped eyeholes didn’t help the terrifying appearance and she was barely able to suppress a horrified shudder. She had never gotten such a good look at Crane’s other half in the light before and she had to fight her natural inclination to run far away. Like before, this thing in front of her no longer seemed like her friend, more like something dark was walking in his body. A thing that had the barest rudimentary understanding of how to act like a human being.
    His glittering, dead, now pitch black eyes centered on her; raspy pants rattling from deep in his bony chest as he swayed in place. “Are... afffraaaaaaaid,” the thing hissed quietly, almost accusingly. Then it inhaled deeply, something in its chest gurgling as it did so.
    “Not run... not screeeeaaaaaam,” the thing wearing Jonathan’s skin gasped, its voice turning into an unholy cry that made her skin crawl on the last word.
    “What are you?” came out of her mouth before she could stop it and silence stretched between the pair as ‘Scarecrow’ seemed to ponder her words.
    “Was paaaart of Crane, yesssss. Became... morrre,” it rasped, slowly coming into the room but leaving the door open behind it.
    “Was something else too before.... no memory...,” it sighed, seeming to study her like a wary animal would. Then it was reaching a twitching hand toward her, lightly brushing at a strand of her sandy hair with a strange look in its barely visible eyes. For just a moment, she could see a bit of Jonathan in there but it was soon swallowed up by the insanity and darkness of ‘Scarecrow’.
    “You still... trust... even outside...,” whispered a rather dual sounding voice from his lips before he enveloped her in a tight hug.
    Marie could only stand there with her hands hovering awkwardly over her former patient’s back, a very confused look on her disguised face. Before she could even ask, the former doctor began to shake violently as a ragged sob left him. Then he was slipping to his knees, taking her with him as he began to cry in earnest. “J-jonathan?” the former Psychologist asked in alarm, finally giving him a comforting hug.
    “Y-you... even after... and you’re...,” he sobbed, making absolutely no sense to the baffled female.
    “You have to try to slow down! You’re not making any sense,” she whispered, doing her best to offer comfort despite how truly afraid she was of the thin man. To her shock, he only moved long enough to rip his mask from his face, his entire demeanor and posture changing instantly. His now blue eyes searched her own gray ones for something before he simply collapsed into the hug and continued to cry openly.
    “Nobody... nobody trusted me after they found out about my... hobbies. Soon nobody wanted to even be around me, not even my mother. I was lonely so I started talking to myself and ended up making an imaginary friend. A friend who ended up being so much more than what I first thought. I thought I would always be alone, only his raving, hate filled voice to keep me company. To finally have someone, anyone trust me after years of being alone...,” he rasped, clinging to her as if afraid she would try to run away from him. Marie could only give him a stunned look before tightening her hold on him. Despite her calm appearance, she was seething with rage for the broken man in her arms.
    Before she could ask what brought this on, Joker was coming in. “What’s the hold... Aw Christ. What the fuck is with everyone? Crane, get Scarecrow back in charge and get downstairs! We don’t have time for this,” the criminal snarled, impatience clear in his green eyes.
    Jonathan only nodded in response, giving Marie one last squeeze before straightening. “You’re right. Just, keep an eye on her,” the ex-Psychiatrist husked out, his voice changing before he even began heading to where the mask had landed. Jasper watched the proceedings from his spot under the bed, looking slightly offended at all the interruptions to his sacred nap time.
    “She’s gonna be right by my side! After all, every magician needs a lovely assistant,” the scarred male chuckled, his dead eyes fixing on her as a frightening smile curled his ruby lips.
    ‘Scarecrow’ only narrowed Crane’s now black eyes as he pulled on his hand stitched mask. Then the unpredictable being was shambling his way out, leaving the similarly dressed pair alone. “Ready for your big debut darling?” the villain cooed, bouncing on the toes of his shined shoes like an excited child. His purple gloved hands were pressed together tightly in front of him as his grin turned to all teeth.
    “Dare I ask what we’re doing,” sighed the resigned female as she brushed her purple suit pants with a purple nailed hand.
    “Ah ta ta ta ta, that would ruin the surprise!” he chirped before bowing at the waist and offering her his hand with a flourish. His hazel eyes glittered with dark humor as he gave her an expectant smile.
    “Shall we?” purred his slightly nasally voice, his dyed, curly locks hanging slightly in his left eye. Marie took a deep breath before placing her hand in his, a grimace marring her painted on smile. She knew it was no small matter for him to take her with him on something this big. This would be a huge show of trust on his part and if she did anything to fuck up... Just thinking about it made her blood run cold with terror.
    His leather covered fingers closed slowly around her hand before he gave the appendage a light tug. Making sure her eyes were meeting his, the ‘Clown Prince of Crime’ pressed an almost gentle kiss to the top of her hand. “Ya know, ya need a name. Can’t exactly call ya Marie or Bon Jovi on the job... Hmmm. I think I’ll have ta call ya Spade for now,” he declared before tugging her out of his room and down the metal stairs. The scene that greeted them would have been comical if not for the fact they were probably going to kill a lot of people.
    “Scarecrow! You got the ‘Special Floats’!” Joker called to the twisted thing attaching canisters to clusters of balloons. The masked male gave a curt nod, making a vague gesture to an unexplored back area of the warehouse.   Nodding back, the tux wearing killer unleashed a gale of his bone chilling laughter as he lead Marie to a jauntily painted van outside.
    “Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls of all ages! I proudly present to you, Gotham’s Circus!” called the jolly ringmaster, his fake mustache shining as he raised his whip in the spotlight. The crowded tent filled with cheers as the top hat wearing man grinned for them. Then there was a sudden booming noise, followed by a thick, purple smoke that rapidly obscured the huge center. The crowd got a brief glimpse of the introducer’s shocked face before he simply disappeared. Disquiet soon followed as people in the crowd began to question whether or not this was supposed to be happening. A burst of distorted calliope music began as two spotlights blinked on to shine through the rapidly dissipating fog.
    “We apologize for this imposter,” tittered a slightly ditzy voice as a vaguely female silhouette began to appear. The crowd released a collective sigh of relief, settling as they decided it was all part of the show. They even cheered at their new, red and black dressed, female ringmaster.
    “Now without any further ado, let the show begin!” she called into a megaphone that had a Joker-like grin painted on the sides of it. Then she was swinging the whip down with a loud crack, seeming to summon the large group of goons that was dressed as dogs. As the fully grown, overweight and often hairy men cavorted around the center ring like canines, the crowd seemed to grow uneasy with the display. Most of them didn’t seem to know whether to respond with disgust or horror. Uneasy applause accompanied the strange performance, only stopping when one of the costumed men tackled another to the ground and began to hump his hapless victim.
    “No, no bad doggies,” the pigtailed woman cackled, cracking her whip to separate the two.
    Marie watched the display with a look of outright disgust on her make-up coated face. “Looks like the boys are having fun. Come on, we’re after the clowns,” Joker urged from her left, a hand settling on the corresponding shoulder to spin her around and usher her towards a large rolling platform. Looming above it was a huge, tuxedo wearing, cartoon clown that shared a strange likeness with the murderer leading her into place.
    “Watch me and do as I do,” he urged, shoving an odd metal mouth cover that had valves sticking out of it into her hand. Then he was wrapping an arm around her waist and jerking her against him, his entire body seeming to vibrate with excitement.
    “They’ll be talking about this one for years to come, let me tell ya,” he assured, his hazel eyes holding a dark joy for the first time she had met him. Just seeing that made her stomach fill with a touch of nausea. She had always known just what kind of man he was in the back of her mind but to see him actually take pleasure in the prospect of death, it chilled her.
    A flurry of movement drew her attention to the group of henchmen dressed as clowns. They were being led by a red nose wearing ‘Scarecrow’. Seeing such a jaunty item on the terrible mask was horribly out of place and she felt her skin crawl at the sight of it. Tearing her eyes away from her former patient, the blonde noticed each clown held a cluster of balloons; each cluster carrying its own canister. All at once she realized what they were going to do and she felt a chill of fear wash over her from the feet up. A lot of people were going to end up insane or dead and she would have to aid in that. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Marie prepared to go against all the morals she ever had.
    The speechless audience watched silently as the dogs filed back into the rear, leaving only Harley standing on the raised platform in the center ring. “Weren’t our puppies just awesome! Now onto our next attraction! Our friendly clowns will begin passing out balloons. Everyone in the crowd please take one! There’s a special surprise coming that requires everyone to have a bundle,” she announced, cracking her whip to summon a huge crowd of clowns. The large, multi-colored group split around the podium the odd ringmaster stood on, dispersing into the crowd from there. Soon the mask wearing men were handing out bunches of balloons, sometimes outright forcing them into hands. Once everyone in the crowd had their own bunch, Harley snapped her whip again; summoning another large group of men dressed as elephants.
    The men appeared to be chained to eachother like a twisted sled team and were pulling a large, rolling platform. On the platform was a similarly dressed pair, the taller part of the duo appearing to be holding a loudspeaker. “I hope you have enjoyed the show so far! It is now time for our final event of the night,” came a voice that caused a collective shudder to run through the uneasy crowd. Murmurs of a dreaded name rippled throughout the crowd and people slowly began to panic. Unfortunately for them, the clowns in the stands also had guns. They easily made sure no one got any bright ideas about making a break for it or releasing their balloons.
    One of the spotlights was turned toward the pair on the platform as it was brought into the center and halted. In the center of the platform was Joker and a female mirror of him with the exception of the hair. She wore white facepaint and a painted on, bright red grin that reached to her ears. The black around her eyes gave them a wide, almost scared look but she made no move to escape. “This is my partner Spade and boy do we have a finale for you. Matter of fact the whole of Gotham! This lovely little balloon over my head is filled with Smilex gas and those lovely ones you hold in your hands have a canister of Fear Gas courtesy of Scarecrow. I’ve always been curious about what the two would do if they mixed,” crooned the infamous madman, raising a remote up in the air with his free hand.
    The green haired villain waggled the purple device in his hand a few times before tossing it to his assistant. “And with this being an open tent, some of the fumes are bound to escape into the city. Masks everyone!” he called, causing a flurry of movement as all the thugs put their mouth covers on. Then he was turning to the stunned looking woman to his left. She only nodded before placing her own mask on her face. Joker only cackled wildly, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him.
    “It’s been a real blast,” the crazed male laughed, placing a cover over his own mouth. The female beside him took that as her cue and pressed the button, flooding the cloth tent with a mixture of horrifying fumes.
    In the midst of the chaos, Joker dragged Marie out of the tent while cackling wildly; followed closely by a flood of his goons, Harley and Scarecrow. Said female had a murderous look in her eyes as she took note of the way her lover held the other woman’s hand. “Do not even think about touching her,” came a brief snarl by her ear, drawing her attention to the fleeing back of Scarecrow.
    “I might not have to,” she hissed as soon as the former doctor was out of hearing range, her eyes narrowed in rage.
    The entire hideout burst into noisy celebration, reveling in the fact that the event had gone off without so much as a peep of Batman. With all the clues left behind, it wouldn’t be hard for the vigilante to figure out who was responsible; a fact that only seemed to make Joker more euphoric. The only good thing about the raucous noise in the large living area was the fact that it made it very easy for Marie to sneak away. Visions of the gas leaking out of the tent as they sped away still filled her head and she let herself into Joker’s room, locking the door behind her. “Jesus Christ... What on Earth is that shit going to do to people,” she whispered in a shaky voice, running a hand through her straw colored hair. Yet her distress didn’t feel quite genuine, it almost felt as if she was acting this way because she felt she had to; a fact that only added to her stress.
    “What the fuck is happening to me?” she hissed, running to the bathroom that was attached to the room to wash the make-up off.
    She shut the door behind her with a slam, turning on the hot water full blast. As her wide eyes watched the steam rise, she found herself examining her actual feelings; as much as she didn’t want to. The only ones she truly felt badly for were the children and even then it was only vaguely. To be honest, all those people were just a mass of faceless strangers. She hadn’t met any of them, hadn’t known them. What bothered her most was the possibility of her, Joker or Crane getting accidentally poisoned by the gas floating through the air currents. Feeling sick at herself, Marie began to viciously wash her face with a rough washcloth; not noticing the door opening behind her.
    All of a sudden the sound of water running stopped and she looked up in the mirror to see the slightly angry face of Joker right behind her. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that. Care to explain what all this is about? Are you maybe feeling guilty for participating in tonight,” he snarled in a venomous voice, twirling around to glare down at her make-up smeared visage.
    “No, that’s the problem! I don’t feel guilty! I don’t feel anything for those people! My only worry is for me, you and Crane with that gas lingering in the city air,” the shaking woman whispered, her eyes full of self loathing. The killer could only blink at her, his grip slowly loosening as the rage left his painted visage.
    “What?” he whispered in a shocked voice, his hands falling to his sides and allowing her to spin away from him.
    “You heard me. I don’t even feel that bad about the children. What kind of monster am I? Was I like this before you and Jonathan ‘kidnapped’ me? The longer I’m here, the more I find out about myself and I can’t say I like what I’m finding,” she whispered in a small, scared voice as she turned on the faucets with shaky hands. It was at a much more reasonable temperature and she resumed washing the make-up off, as well as some tears.
    She had barely finished when the murderer behind her spun her once more, a slight frown on his disguised face. His hazel orbs searched her gray ones for long silent moments as the weary, fragile feeling woman tried to hold herself together. Tonight had shown her that she wasn’t the person she thought she was and it disturbed her. “You really don’t feel guilty about what happened...” he stated breathlessly; a brief emotion flashing through his eyes before he was grabbing her face in a tight, almost painful grip.
    “No...,” Marie whispered, only having a split second before his lips met hers hungrily. One of the hands on her face moved to painfully grip her dirty blonde locks while he kissed her almost violently. Teeth scraped against tender lips as faint growls left the killer.
    Then, as soon as it started, it stopped. He pulled away slowly, sucking on her bottom lip as he released another deep, throaty noise. His entire body shuddered as he fixed his eyes with hers, harsh breaths leaving him as his chest heaved. Then he was taking a deep breath, closing his black ringed eyes and running a leather covered hand through his slightly damp hair. His ruby lips pursed as he almost seemed to mull something over in his head. Then he was nodding before ushering her out of the bathroom. “Get some rest. I’ll be back up later,” whispered his mid tone voice, his verdant gaze promising something as he left the room. Marie could only stare after him, torn between disgust with herself and apprehension for what was to come.
    “Jas, I think we’re in for a long night,” the exhausted woman sighed before beginning to change into a pair of comfortable pajamas. From the looks of him before he left, Joker wanted to do more than just talk; a prospect that made her core tingle despite herself.
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Laughter in the Dark