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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Author’s Note: The day that just would not end.

Chapter Six: Bad to Worse
    “Taking a guard hostage is not an appropriate way to get a hold of me,” Marie scolded sternly, doing her best not to show just how afraid she was of the insane man in front of her.
    “It was the most entertaining way,” the green haired male replied, his green gaze not moving from the left side of her face. A fact that made the bruised female feel rather self conscious.
    “I doubt it was entertaining for that poor boy. He’s only been here a year,” the psychologist sighed, fighting the urge to pinch her nose in frustration. It was useless to try to get the man to feel guilt for what he had done but it was her job to make sure he knew what he had done was not okay.
    “I’m afraid that because of your actions you will have a guard with you during your bathroom and shower time. You also will no longer be allowed to eat with the group. Until you behave for a month, you will basically be in solitary,” the blonde continued, giving him her best stern look. This only sent the clown into gales of his signature, horrifying laughter.
    “You look like a mother scolding an errant child!” he hooted, holding his belly as his laughter slowly tapered off. Wiping tears of mirth from his sparkling eyes, he gave a grin that made her skin crawl. It was the grin of a man that was utterly and violently insane.
    “You know, solitary sounds awfully boring. Will you still be having sessions with me?” he purred, a deadly edge to his eyes as he continued to stare at her injury.
    “Of course, your behavior has no impact on the therapy you receive,” Marie replied, doing her best to remain neutral.
    “Ya know, you were, uh, a lot more fun yesterday,” he sighed in a disappointed voice, his tongue flicking out to lick the scars at the corners of his mouth.
    “Why did you want to see me so badly that you felt you had to hold someone hostage?” the suit wearing woman replied, still managing to sound professional despite how badly off balance the man was throwing her. She felt an odd longing to fall back into simply joking with him as if they had always been friends, a desire that would only lead down a dark road for her. As if she didn’t have enough problems with Roger.
    “I want ta know who did that to ya,” the dangerous man growled, gesturing to her ugly shiner.
    “I can’t share personal details of my life with a patient. Besides, that was no reason to hold someone at knife point,” Marie reasoned, doing her level best not to simply flee from the cell.
    Her answer seemed to greatly displease the gray jumpsuit wearing male. A furious frown furrowed his painted brow and his red lips twisted into a snarl. It was almost as if he was baring his teeth at her, making a jolt of thick fear race through her veins. “Yet you’ll expect me to tell you what is no doubt very personal to me. Tsk, tsk Doc; is that any way to build a ‘trust’ with your patient?” Joker growled, the black around his eyes giving him an even more sinister look. The young psychologist opened her mouth to argue but promptly shut it. Despite the fact that she was a doctor and a professional, she had to admit she was being highly hypocritical.
    “You’re right. How can I expect you to trust me with your inner secrets when I won’t even tell you my first name or how I got injured,” she sighed, running a purple nailed hand through her straw colored hair. The green haired male before her waved a hand for her to continue, an impatient look on his face.
    “It was my boyfriend,” she whispered, keeping his name out of it just in case Joker had his own connections.
    In a flash, the much taller man crossed the room; his hands slamming on the concrete wall beside her head as he brought his make-up coated face mere inches from hers. He breathed heavily through his nose as his green eyes burned with hatred. “And tell me, kitten, did ya do anything to, uh, deserve such a harsh beating,” the clown hissed, venom in every syllable he spat out.
    “Unless you count coming home that day, no,” she sighed. In her mind, unless the woman was being a danger to her partner; there was no right to ever raise a hand to a woman. Her response seemed to set the former criminal off like a mortar round.
    Joker shoved himself away from her and flipped over his bed. Then he proceeded to try and successfully tear the lock box that held his make-up off the bottom of the frame. Once he got the metal rectangle in his hand, the enraged man threw it at the wall that had the drawings on it as hard as he could. The sturdy container broke apart on impact from the force, spraying cosmetics all over the tiny room. “Ma’am, do ya need an evac?” called one of the guards from outside the cell, making the pissed madman turn his gaze to the metal door.
    “No! I’m fine! He’s throwing stuff around but none of it is even close to being aimed at me yet,” Marie called, keeping her stormy gaze fixed on the panting patient before her. A slow grin curled the criminal’s ruby lips, the scars on his mouth making it look more like a chesire grin.
    “I’ll let ya keep his name for now Doc. Thanks for, uh, answering my question,” he purred, looking all too satisfied as malice danced in his eyes. Then the vibrant orbs were gliding over her suit clad form, his tongue snaking out to give his lips and scars a much slower lick than usual. Taking that as her cue to leave, Marie flung open the cell door and fled; hearing his bark of horrible laughter as she went.
    Once home from that ordeal, the blonde flung herself on her couch, burrowed her face into a decorative pillow and let out an exasperated sigh. Nothing about her life was normal or easy at the moment. Any other person would have had a nervous breakdown from all the encounters with Scarecrow alone and here she was dealing with the ‘Clown Prince of Crime’. It would be a blue miracle if she could get out of this without being seduced or driven mad herself. “Jasper, I vote we pack up and move to the Bahamas. Or better yet Jamaica. At least Jamaica has pot,” she sighed to her oreo colored, overweight cat. The feline only looked at her neutrally before proceeding to clean his empty scrotum.
    “Gee thanks for that valuable wisdom,” she chuckled, getting up and going to the kitchen to make herself some food.
    She was in the middle of making a sandwich when she heard a knock on her door, something that immediately had her on guard. Thanks to Roger, there was now only one person who knocked on her apartment door and that was him. Not wanting to deal with him or his apologies so soon, Marie debated on whether or not she should pretend she wasn’t home. “Marie? Babe, ya in there? I saw your car outside and I want to know if everything is alright,” came a very familiar, male voice. The Psychologist stood absolutely still, not daring to even breath lest he hear her and insist on being let in. She had learned over the years that Roger had developed quite a sense of hearing while in service, something that she was sure was a survival tactic.
    After a few heart stopping moments, she heard his heavy steps going away from the door and dared to let out a small sigh of relief. She was thankful it was so soon after he had beaten her, otherwise he wouldn’t have hesitated to use his key to get in and check if she was there for himself. Marie could only hope that he didn’t decide to come back. She hated that he kept tabs on her apartment building and that any anomaly was bound to bring him knocking. Heaving an exasperated breath, the young female finished making her sandwich and went back to the couch.
    It was well beyond dark when her phone rang again. Marie had been in the middle of watching ‘Hellraiser’ so the loud ringing nearly made her bolt straight to the ceiling. Jasper, who had been on her lap, was unceremoniously thrown to the carpeted floor of the living room. Giving her a disgusted glare, the overweight cat sauntered over to one of her chairs and curled up in it; still giving her a sour look. Ignoring her disdainful pet, the half awake female flung herself off the couch; running to the phone and picking it up off the cradle. “Hello?” she asked in a sleepy voice, trying to hide a yawn behind her hand.
    “Marie, Dr. Crane has escaped,” came a familiar, elderly sounding voice. What he said made her blood run cold from fear. Surely she had to have heard wrong.
    “Ol’ Joe?” she asked, not wanting to acknowledge what he had told her.
    “The very same ma’am. Did you hear what I said?” he asked in a patient but tired sounding voice.
    “No, I’m sorry. The connection must have been faulty. Could you repeat it?” she asked, closing her eyes tightly as her heart thudded in her chest. Surely she had heard wrong, surely he was just calling because one of her patients was acting up and needed her to come in.
    “No problem ma’am. What I said was Dr. Crane escaped,” the old guard replied, causing a jolt of fear to race through her. ‘That’s what I thought you said,’ she sighed to herself.
    “Have the authorities been called? Did anyone inform Mr. Mickleson?” Marie asked, her training kicking in full force. A fact that she was grateful for. Right now she was in far too much chaos in her head to be anything but on autopilot. Where was Crane now? Was he going to try to find where she lived? Would he try to kill her?
    “Yes on both counts ma’am. Just thought I should give ya a call as well, what with your relationship with him,” the older male replied, sounding just a touch concerned for her. This effectively broke her out of her spiral and she took a deep breath to calm herself. While Scarecrow was dangerous, the alter ego had shown just a tiny bit of regard for her recently. Maybe she would get lucky and he would just leave her alone.
    “He’s not the only one that got out either,” Ol’ Joe continued, drawing a small groan from the blonde.
    “Who else?” she asked, dreading the answer.
    “Selina,” he replied concisely, drawing a small sigh of relief from her.
    “Anyone else get out?”
    “No ma’am and to tell the truth none of the guards are surprised Selina is gone. What surprised us was Crane’s disappearance. His cell door was wide open, as if someone had let him out,” the elderly guard informed her, making another jolt of fear race through her veins. What he told her made her extremely apprehensive. While she couldn’t prove Joker had anything to do with it, it was a strange coincidence that two of her patients had escaped; leaving only him. Without her attention being split between three patients, she would be thrown full time on his case.
    “Thank you Joe. I don’t think either will come here but if they do, I’ll be well protected,” she answered, thinking about the metal door for her room.
    “Dr. Crane won’t hurt ya, it’s that other personality that worries me. As for Selina, she always spoke of how well you treated her. However, Mr. Mickleson is sending over one of the guards to watch your building,” the man assured, drawing a silent curse from the blonde. The last thing she needed was some strange guy casing her apartment building, especially with Roger hanging around.
    “Thanks Ol’ Joe. Have a good night,” the nervous woman replied before hanging up the phone. Then she was giving her door an apprehensive look. All she could hope was that Dr. Crane wouldn’t feel the need to ‘pop in’.
    Deciding she needed a bath and that she would feel better behind the safety of her hydraulic, metal door; Marie picked up a complaining Jasper as well as some movies and went into her room. First she closed her recently replaced wooden door, then she hit the code that activated the metal door that would lock in place behind it. As soon as she heard the telltale click of it coming into place, the blonde relaxed considerably. Now nothing out there could possibly harm her unless they decided to set her apartment on fire. With that cheery thought in mind, the weary female went to her bathroom to run a hot bath. Right now all she wanted to do was soak away her worries.
    Once the porcelain tub was full, she stuck in an arm to test the temperature. It was hot, just barely bearable. Pleased with this, Marie stripped off the pajamas she had changed into after her second trip to Arkham and slipped in. A sigh of contentment left her lips as she submerged her pale but shapely body. She didn’t have the body of a supermodel but she found herself happy with the body God or nature had graced her with. She was on the plumper side but was nowhere near morbidly obese and her breasts weren’t huge but they certainly were large enough to fill a hand with. Rolling her gray eyes at her musings, she poured some green apple scented soap onto a loofa and began to lather herself.
    She had just finished rinsing out her hair when she heard a loud banging on the wooden outer door. Shooting up into a sitting position, the now terrified woman strained her ears for any clues of who it was. As twisted as it was, Marie sincerely hoped it was Jonathan Crane and not her violent boyfriend. Her hopes were dashed when Roger’s angry voice screamed, “Why the Hell is there some fucking guy casing your apartment building!” through both doors. Sighing, the female pulled herself from her warm paradise, wrapped herself in a towel and walked up to her door.
    “Jonathan Crane escaped,” she hollered as loud as she could, hoping her admittedly weak voice carried through the thick steel and wood. Only silence followed her explanation, making her heart plummet to the very bottom of her stomach. If he didn’t believe her, there was no telling just what he would do.
    “Shit, yeah I just found a newspaper site to confirm. Is he here to protect you?” came an apologetic but still angry reply.
    “Mr. Mickleson sent him. I had no say in the matter,” the blonde replied, hoping desperately he would just let the matter drop.
    “Do... do you want me to stay babe?” came a much more contrite, almost timid response.
    “Roger, what do you think?” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as irritation and fear jockeyed for position within her. A few moments of silence greeted her before a slow sigh came from the other side of the door.
    “Yeah, yeah I wouldn’t want to see me either. I’ll, uh, see you around Marie,” came the voice before footsteps led away from her door.
    Shaking her head, the blonde went back into the bathroom to get dressed and comb her wet hair. After she was done with that; she drained the tub, went back to her her room and put a movie in her DVD player. As the beginning scenes of ‘The Crow’ began to play, Marie found herself oddly reminded of Joker; especially when Eric first put on the make-up. Maybe it was the black lipstick smile he had given himself or maybe it was the burning violence that blazed in his brown eyes. Pausing the movie at the point that he was standing at the window and looking out disdainfully over the city, the young Psychologist found her breath stopping in her throat.
    Brandon Lee, who was playing Eric Draven, was the very mirror of the normal look in Joker’s eyes. There was a deep hatred for the world in those Earthy orbs, a hatred that spoke of a terrible vengeance. Yet vengeance didn’t seem quite right for the dangerous clown. It seemed like he truly had no reason for causing the things he did. There was even a report that he had promptly burned the money he had gotten from his first big bank heist. He generally seemed interested in causing as much chaos as he possibly could. The man was unlike anyone she encountered and he honestly frightened her. Yet, under that fear, she felt oddly drawn to him. While her first appointment with him had been rather explosive, she had found herself rather enjoying being around him.
    Shaking off her strange thoughts, Marie summarily decided that was more than enough movies for one night. She no doubt had a long day ahead of her due to the recent escapes and she would need whatever rest she could get. Letting out a slow sigh, the blonde cuddled under the blankets and closed her eyes. Soon she drifted into a troubled sleep; full of blood, screaming and begging. Another nightmare about the night her first boyfriend died.
- 5
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Laughter in the Dark