Post by Matthew Reid on Mar 31, 2013 0:50:17 GMT -5
I hate you all. I'm going to bed. XD Enjoy!
Name: Crow
Characters: (In order of appearance) Harley Quinn, Michael Smith, Joker, James Wayne, Amelia Blake, Matthew Reid, Diana Reid, Hotspot Reid, Alice, various unnamed characters.
Words: 7284 words.
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- which would you rather have? a rewind or a pause button?
- Your character has a choice - face their worst fear...or let someone die. What is that fear and what choice would they make?
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It had been months since Joker's 'death'. Harley had been alone since then. Since the day Harley and Batman had toasted, only Harley hadn't. She'd exploded into a breakdown and thrown the glass on the floor. Once she'd gotten inside, Harley had begun screaming at the goons who bothered her while she curled up where Joker usually did and cried. Since then, Harley had become the main threat towards the peace of Gotham. Joker's goons followed her orders and if they didn't, she set the hyenas on them. While Joker had been around, she had been practically tame. Now that he wasn't around, though, Hell seemed to have been released in the form of Harley Quinn. She followed the plans he'd made before he disappeared and fixed them as she went along. It wasn't the same as if he were the one to be blowing building up and threatening bank managers, though. It just wasn't the same...
The night sky blanketed Gotham. Clouds obscured the stars and the moon. The roads nearest the hideout were free of traffic and vehicles aside from a van or two of Harley's. The Clown Princess herself was walking towards the hideout, her eyes staring ahead of her in an almost dead gaze. Opening the door without stopping, she stepped inside before seeing a figure in the darkness. The short hair told her that her momentary happiness at the thought that her Joker had come back was nothing but a mere thought. She raised an eyebrow at the figure and shifted her weight.
"Who're you?"
The figure turned and looked at her. His lips pulled into a smirk.
"I heard you've been down."
"Answer my question!" Harley snapped, not at all in the mood for whoever this was and their games. The smirk grew and the figure looked down. His hands were in his pockets, she noticed while watching him with growing irritation.
"You ought to know... Not like Joker was ever quiet about me and my games. My games with the knights and the princesses."
Harley crossed her arms and shifted her weight again almost defiantly.
"Smith. Yeah, Mr J talked 'bout cha."
Michael gave a small laugh.
"Just talked? I'm insulted, Harleeeeen." He drew her name out with a squeak of a voice, his eyes seeming to glitter mischievously. Harley gritted her teeth. "Not even a little rant? Just a little one?"
"No! Get out of my-"
"What if you could bring him back?"
Harley froze. Bring him back? Bring her darling Mister J back? Her arms uncrossed as she watched him hopefully, never once thinking that he could be lying.
"R-Really?"
Michael nodded silently, smirk having turned into a grin. Harley paused and thought. Could she trust him? Could she believe that he had that ability? His hands came out of his pockets as she thought and she saw them. Two buttons rested in his palms. One had two triangles pointed backwards while the other had two vertical lines. A rewind button and a pause button.
"You just have to take us all back. We'd remember it all. We'd remember everything, but no one else would and he'd be back."
Harley chewed on her lip now. Her eyes glued to the button in his right hand. Rewind. She could rewind it. Rewind time. Rewind the past few months. Rewind the entire time he'd been missing and have him back. He'd be back. Her Joker would be back. Her hand reached for the button before she froze. Her arm dropped back to her side as she looked at his face.
"What's the catch, Smith?"
The man chuckled and shook his head.
"No catch, dear Harleeeeen. Just the memories and your huntsman back." He assured her calmly, his eyes remaining on her. His dark eyes boring into her. They looked so much like Joker's eyes. Darkness. Cold, empty darkness, though she knew they were capable of holding wamth, of holding emotion. Joker's did, and so could Michael's. She didn't say anything, though, and merely took the button of her choice from him.
"Whu-What do I do?" She asked, her voice shaking a little with nerves. Would it work? Was he trying to trick her? Her gaze moved from the button to his face again as he put the other button into his pocket.
"Press it."
Her gaze moved back to the button. She took a deep breath, thinking only of Joker and how he'd be back with her, closed her eyes and-
Opening her eyes, she was stood in their hideout. She looked around herself. Michael was gone. The goons were lounging around lazily, taking no notice of her. A look at her hands told her that they were empty. The button was gone. Had it worked? Turning to the nearest goon, Harley drew herself to her full height.
"Hey!" She barked. "Where's Mistah J?"
The goon looked up with little interest and raised an eyebrow behind his mask.
"Busy, Quinn."
"Not what I asked and you know it. Where?!"
"In his office. Where is he normally?!"
Office. His office. He was there. He was alive. Harley almost sprinted to his office, her bunches bouncing as her lips pulled into a grin of happiness. He was back! He was there and she could hug him and love him! She knocked on the door lightly, the tune cheerful.
"Puddin', you here?" She sung, opening the door a crack and poking her head into it. He was hunched over the desk, scribbling on paper. Harley skipped forward before looking over his shoulder silently.
"Whaddya want, Harley?" He grunted, not sitting up. Harley bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Jus' curious. Whatcha doin', Puddin'?"
Joker looked up at her and Harley bit her bottom lip. His painted eyebrow rose before he grinned.
"Big finale, Harlssss."
Harley's eyebrows pulled together. Finale? Oh! That's what he called the ending. He'd been scaring that mob boss for months. Picking at his members, killing them off, stealing the weapons. Harley gave a nod.
"But... You're jus' gonna scare him, right?" She asked, hopeful that he'd agree. Joker laughed and shook his head.
"Of course... While blowing him up." He grinned and went back to scribbling. Harley felt like crying. She was going to lose him again. No. She couldn't. Not again. She took a deep breath and shifted her weight a little.
"Puddin'... Maybe you could just send some of the clowns out? Worry him a little more?"
Joker looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He didn't look impressed. Harley knew she had to think of something to say and quickly. She gave a shrug as he stood, trying to look casual.
"Well, that way he knows you haven't given up. Or... Or he'll think you have, and then you can go after him later!"
He seemed to consider this for a moment, having frozen in his movements. His eyes looked into her - bore into hers - before he chuckled.
"Oh Harley. Harley Harley Harley." He grinned. Did that mean he wasn't going? Had she convinced him? He didn't say anything, though did leave the room with hurried and heavy footsteps while laughing manically. Harley was left stood in the office, looking at the door. Tears began to leak from her eyes at the thought that she was going to lose him again. She lowered herself into the chair and bit her bottom lip, hoping he'd come back.
It had been a number of days since Harley had convinced Joker not to go. The mob boss had been put in hospital. The police didn't know why, but Michael did. It was obvious. Joker had caused it. Not with his own gloved hands, of course, but he'd given the order. It was obvious.
BOOM
The room shook as an explosion tore through a building near-by. The windows rattled and the television was impossible to hear for a moment before the tremors and echoes died. the news anchor looked shaken before he straightened himself, his clothes and the papers and looked back at the camera.
"As you can hear, Joker's explosions continue to rip through the city. There are now more than fifty people dead, and many more injured...
A knock on the door tore Michael's somewhat distracted attention from the television as a tall, well built man walked into the room. His curled hair made him look taller than he was as he towered over his boss, their dark eyes fixating on the other man as the employee spoke.
"You have a visitor."
"Is it him?"
The man nodded, not at all disturbed by the grin that pulled at Michael's pale lips as he stood.
"Bring him in and bring some tea, too. Can't have a meeting without tea."
The man nodded again and left the room. A black haired woman walked into the room with a tray, her hips swaying slightly as she walked, her heels clicking. The cups on the tray chinked against each other, the china gently bouncing off of the other cup and saucer. She placed the metal tray on the table and looked at her boss with a raised eyebrow.
"Enjoying the view?" She asked while taking a teapot off of the tray. Michael smirked.
"Somewhat." He nodded, making the woman laugh softly while removing the milk jug from the tray now and placing it next to the teapot on the table.
"Enjoy it while you can, Sir..." She said somewhat cheekily, though Michael chuckled and nodded.
"Don't worry about that, Elizabeth." He grinned while taking the sugar bowl from her and nodding again dismissively. "You can leave now." He added, setting himself back into his seat. Elizabeth nodded and left the room with the tray. She paused to let Joker in past her before she continued on her way and shut the door behind her. Michael was pouring tea as Joker stalked forward, his almost black gaze on the less intimidating man.
"Well?" Joker asked, his voice curling the words into the air with a growl purring along the edge of them. Michael smirked and offered Joker a seat silently, not looking at him. Joker ground his teeth before crossing the room to the empty seat and sitting opposite the other man. Michael looked at him while placing a cup of tea down for Joker.
"Milk is there," Michael indicated to the milk jug. "sugar is there." He indicated to the sugar bowl. "There are no biscuits, I'm afraid. It tends to take away the taste of the tea." He added while now making himself a cup of tea carefully, his gaze having turned back to the tea set as he moved. Joker slumped in his seat while watching him silently, waiting for Michael to talk. Placing the teapot down and stirring, having put the milk and sugar in before the water, Michael looked at Joker before taking the spoon out carefully and placing it on the saucer. "They have to stop. The explosions have to stop." Michael stated, though didn't give Joker time to reply. "It's very difficult to go about my daily business with your bombs blowing half the kingdom up and putting all the king's men on high alert."
Joker laughed harshly.
"You think... You think I would stop for you?" He asked before laughing some more and shaking his head. "That's... That's a - ah - good joke."
Michael smirked and sipped his tea before placing the cup back down and nodding.
"I thought you might think that. This is no joke, though." He stated before looking at Joker again, his expression one of someone who was most certainly not joking. "They have to stop... No. Not stop..." He leaned forward, his lips pulling into another smirk. "Move. Away from me. Away from here. I can't have them around here - you understand, I'm sure." He raised his eyebrows almost expectantly. "And if you don't, I will stop you. Do you think they'd care?"
Joker grinned before breathing out a laugh and stood while straightening his jacket.
"I look forward to your attempts, Smitthh." He hissed out the name before laughing a little more and heading for the door. Michael also stood, his hands going into his pockets.
"She's a pretty little princess, Ms Quinn is. Very pretty..." He said to Joker's back. The other male froze as he began talking about Harley. "Be a shame if someone were to give her eternal sleep..."
Joker looked at him with a growl on his lips. Michael smirked and looked in the mirror at the end of the room, above a white fireplace. His hands moved to his tie as he began to fiddle with it. Joker watched him, grinding his teeth with anger as Michael moved somewhat smugly.
"I could give you help, equipment, could keep those foolish mobs out of the way... Or I could go for her; your little Princess. Your little Harley Quinn. You scratch my back, Sir Jester, and I'll scratch yours." His gaze turned back to Joker with a small smile. "Your choice." He said simply, hands back in his pockets as he began to walk forward casually, his eyes never leaving Joker's painted features. Joker stepped towards him, looking at Michael as his smile grew. A moment passed before Joker nodded with a hint of a growl. "You'll move them?"
"Yes." He almost grunted, his lips pulled into a silent snarl as he looked at Michael. The other man seemed to not notice, though, as his smile turned into grin.
"Have a nice day, Joker." He turned back to the tea before stopping and turning around to look at Joker. "Oh, I want to borrow someone... Just a small part... Mister Wayne?" Michael inquired, raising his eyebrows. "As long as I break him out of our wonderful asylum, may I borrow him?" He asked, watching Joker nod as he walked out of the room. Michael chuckled to himself and sat down, bringing the tea to his lips with a smirk as his other hand moved to slick back his already perfect hair.
The white walls seemed to stare back after too long. His eyes faded repeatedly from red to blue and back again, almost looking like two lights were being switched on and off. Hearing noises, James stood, curious as to what was going on, and moved to the front of his cell for a better look. His hands pressed against the glass as he tried to see down the corridor. It was no use, though...
The guards in the security room nodded to each other and sat. Their eyes on the camera, waiting for one person and one text. One text that would tell them when to start. Getting comfy, one of them lifted their coffee to their lips and sipped. The other sat back and they continued to wait...
Outside, the man they were waiting for was walking up to the asylum. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding his phone. His jaw moved as he chewed mint gum. Stopping outside the large, forboding wooden doors of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, his gaze turned to his phone. His fingers moved across the screen with speed as he typed out a message. Once it was sent, he grinned and stepped through the doors, his empty hand opening them while the other put the phone in his pocket. The receptionist looked up momentarily.
"Hello, welcome to-"
"Thank you, but save it. I'm only here to see someone." He said smoothly, smiling at her charmingly. She smiled back and nodded before settling into her chair a little more and flipping open the magazine in her hands to the page it was open to before. He strode purposefully through the corridors of Arkham Asylum, his shined shoes barely making a sound as he moved. He passed an unconscious body - that of a doctor, from what he knew of the man - and smirked at the guard at the entrance to the cells. "Did he get in your way?"
"He wanted to come in... Talk to his patient."
"Pity..." He mused with a hint of amusement and stepped easily through the doorway. "Did he see you?"
"No, sir. Bob was on duty. That's who he was talking to."
"And where is Bob now?"
"In with the cameras, Sir."
The man nodded with a hint of glee.
"Excellent."
As he walked down the corridor, passing many glass-fronted cells on the way, the man looked up at the cameras. He continued to chew the gum casually, his footsteps still barely making a sound. He stopped outside a cell and smiled at the occupant.
"You're being released."
James had moved back to where he'd been sitting, though kept his eyes on the front of the cell and what was beyond the thick glass that kept him enclosed in the white walled box. Doctor Reid had often said that he disliked the fact these were cells and not rooms, though admitted that he understood why they had to be like this... Indeed, Doctor Reid had been here a lot... It was a surprise to James that he hadn't come down to the cells today. It seemed to be a routine of sorts for the man... Those thoughts were distracted by others. Smug thoughts. Thoughts of how the cameras probably wouldn't pick him up... Thoughts of how that was unfortunate... They were followed by a statement from a suit wearing man with slicked back hair and dark brown eyes. James raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You're being released, dear knight. Or are you a knight? No... More like a sidekick. The villains always have a sidekick."
Foolish boy, didn't he hear. Can you hear this?
"Yes, I can. Why am I being released?"
"Because I require your assistance on a small matter. You'll be returned to your leader once we're finished."
James stood slowly. What did Reid have to say about this? Almost as if reading James' mind, the man chuckled.
"Don't worry about that doctor, though. He won't know for a while. Taking a little sleep."
Dread filled James, though he nodded regardless.
"Only a small one. He'll wake up soon. His head might hurt, though, but I suppose it would... Having this man knock you out isn't the best way to sleep nor the best thing to wake up from." The man chuckled again and nodded to the guard, who produced a card and swiped it at the cell. The front pulled back, giving James an exit. "Come along. We haven't much time to waste."
When James didn't move, the man rolled his eyes.
Ordinary... Boring...
"Grab him."
With a yell, James tried to make the guard let go. He couldn't, though, and thus had to accept that he would be dragged around by some brute.
"How are you doing this?" James asked, frowning softly at the Irishman.
"It's not what you know," The elder male began, walking purposefully past a guard. "but who you know."
As they left the cells, James caught sight of someone on the floor... Someone probably tall and seemingly thin with brown hair...
"Do-"
"Don't worry about him." The man seemed to snap and looked at him. "He's boring... He's on the side of the angels..."
James opened his mouth to speak, though seemed to decide against it. The man nodded with a smirk.
"You're learning... And I'm Michael." He looked at James and continued to chew. "I expect you've heard of me." He added, sounding somewhat bored. James nodded with a frown. Michael Smith. He'd broken into a museum, been found at the scene of the crime, and all to be found not guilty by the jury. No one could figure out how...
The days that passed after the unusual event were filled with mayhem for the Gotham City Police Department. After the unconscious doctor had woken up and been checked for any lasting damage, he'd been questioned by the commissioner before being allowed to carry on as he wished. Today, that had been to go to the police station at lunchtime.
Having agreed to meeting up with Amelia before being knocked out, Matthew stepped through the doors before smiling politely at a near-by police officer in greeting. They were fairly used to him coming in every so often, though he didn't seem to be used to them being there. Amelia was sat at her desk, writing out a report when he snuck up behind her and looked over her shoulder.
"That should be a comma, not a full stop." He stated, pointing at a full stop. Amelia jumped and looked up at him before frowning and looking at what he was pointing at. She pursed her lips and gave it a tail.
"Better?"
"Much. Now it make sense." Matthew joked before grinning at her. Amelia shook her head with an amused smile.
"How's the head?"
"Don't know. Haven't asked it."
Amelia snorted and nodded.
"Logical." She mumbled sarcastically as Matthew moved to the front of her desk and stole a chair from an empty one. He sat opposite her and raised an eyebrow. After a moment, Amelia looked up. "What?"
"Lunch."
"Wha- Oh! Damn, I forgot." She looked around before looking back at him. "Sorry."
"Other plans?" He looked hopeful that she hadn't, though also looked uncertain, as though he suspected she did have other plans. Amelia shook her head.
"Unless you count finishing this..." She indicated to the report and Matthew smiled softly. "Gimme a moment. I just need to tell someone I'm off on a break..." She stated and walked off to find Jim. As she turned a corner and disappeared, an officer by the name of Walker walked into the station. Upon seeing Matthew, he shot the younger man a questioning expression and began walking over.
"Here for a reason?" He asked gently. Matthew nodded, though the elder man could tell he was nervous.
"I... Amelia... Meeting Amelia for lunch... I-I think she's looking for-"
"Mark!"
Matthew breathed a silent sigh of relief as Amelia walked over to the pair of them. He rose from the seat somewhat gracefully, though kept his head down. Officer Walker smiled at her.
"Break?"
"Break." She nodded and moved to grab Matthew's hand. As she did so, there was a yell then a sickening crack. Amelia looked around and found herself looking at a tall man with black, wavy hair in a suit. He was followed by a somewhat shorter man with greying, light brown hair who was also in a suit. Behind both of them was their boss. He gave a smirk and straighten his suit.
"Nasty business..." He commented lightly, though laughed as Mark drew his gun.
"Hands in the air!"
"For walking into a police station? Joker would certainly approve of such a bad joke." Michael replied, his normally empty eyes glittering with... Something. Mark lowered his weapon slowly, his eyes glued to Michael.
"What do you want, Smith?" Amelia snapped, letting go of Matthew's hand and crossing her arms over her chest. Matthew lingered behind her, looking at the ground as though hoping that it would suddenly swallow him whole.
"You, dear princess. You and your prince. You've got a choice, you see..."
Amelia frowned in questioning, though before she could ask anything, the men in suits moved towards the officers nearest to them and broke their necks. Amelia, Mark and Matthew winced at the sounds of cracking bones.
"Stop it! You want us then-"
"Bad idea." Matthew whimpered behind her, though Amelia wasn't listening or was, perhaps, trying to ignore the fact that a voice in her head agreed with him.
"-take us! You don't need to hurt these people."
Michael looked at her as though she were completely missing the point, which she probably was.
"Uh, noooo. They're as important as you are..."
Amelia frowned with confusion, again, though only until more necks were cracked as Michael walked towards the pair.
"You know... I could have just kept watching... But it was too good of an opportunity. No one here who mattered-"
"They mattered." Amelia interrupted, her voice shaking with suppressed anger. Michael laughed.
"No one here who mattered to me." He corrected himself, watching her with a smirk. "But, I suppose not even your prince really matters to me..." He mused aloud as his suit clad men walked towards the pair, both seemingly ready to crack Matthew's neck.
"No! Don't hurt him..."
"Of course not. I want to see his secrets..." He grinned before nodding to the pair. They each grabbed one of the couple and marched them out of the door. Once next to a rather large car, the suit clad men knocked Amelia and Matthew out before putting them in the car with almost care, though the trickle of blood coming from their heads said that this pair certainly did not care for them like their actions suggested...
Slumped in his chair, his dark eyes on the screen, he watched the news anchor sitting stiffly behind the desk.
"And our current news story is that of the disappearance of Officer Amelia Blake and Doctor Matthew Reid. Linked to these disappearances are the murders of five police officers at lunch time today. The CCTV that has been released suggests that this was done by Michael Smith, who was found not guilty of breaking into the Gotham City Museum just last week..."
Joker giggled. That was why he'd been told to move his bombs... It explained a lot, and gave Joker an idea. Standing, he didn't notice Harley as she looked at him questioningly and calling three goons out of the other room.
"We're going on a treasure hunt." He told them, grinning almost cheerfully if the scars were forgotten. Harley frowned.
"Whatcha doin', Puddin'?"
Joker turned to her and chuckled before cupping her cheeks with his hands almost lovingly.
"Don't you worry, Harlssss. I'll be back soon. Need to blow a king from his throne." He chuckled again and practically skipping from the room, heading for the nearest van while yelling back to the goons: "And don't forget the bombs!"
Harley hugged herself, though let his words to her run through her mind repeatedly as reassurance. He'd be back...
Hours of unconsciousness passed them by before they awoke in large, empty grey rooms. Matthew awoke first. Pain split through his skull as he looked around, his eyes narrowed against the pain. He reached behind his head and gently touched the throbbing area, wincing at the fresh pain that burst from the area. Bringing his hand back in front of him, Matthew saw red on his finger tips. He momentarily wondered how hard the man had hit him, though soon went back to looking around. It was empty, though. Completely empty. No furniture. No decorations. Nothing. An empty room that smelt faintly of cheap air freshener... Matthew scrunched his nose in dislike of the smell before he saw a door. No doubt it was locked, and Matthew knew he wouldn't even know where to go if he did open it...
"Amelia?" He asked aloud, the voice rebounding off of the walls and back to him. His head gave a throb of disagreement with the echos and he winced softly before moving to get on his knees. Nothing here except him. No one here except him. Entirely empty aside from one man with a headache and blood. Where was Amelia, then?
Awaking slowly, Amelia found herself lying down. She looked at the floor, disorientated, before realising that it was the floor and trying to sit up. It worked, and so Amelia found herself sitting in the middle of a room. It appeared to be empty, though she couldn't see everything due to the fact that she hadn't tried to look behind her. A number of minutes were spent just looking around her, trying to figure out anything she could about the room but it was empty. There was nothing in here. No furniture. No decorations. Nothing. An empty room that smelt faintly of cheap air freshener. Amelia stood shakily and smiled when she found that she could stand up. Catching sight of what seemed to be the door, Amelia tried to take a step towards it. As she lifted her leg, though, she found herself crashing to the floor.
"I'm okay, Ma-"
Looking around, Amelia realised that no one had asked if she was okay. No panicked voice. No hurried footsteps to help her up, despite her constantly saying she didn't need help getting up. No Matthew. She sat up and looked around again. Nothing here except her. No one here except her. Entirely empty aside from one woman with a headache and blood. Where was Matthew, then?
As the pair wondered as to the other's whereabouts, a voice broke through the almost empty silence.
"And now you get to choooose!"
Amelia glared at the ceiling. Michael's voice. Unusually cheerful...
"Face your fear, now, or your loved one dies."
Matthew looked somewhat appauled at this, though didn't say anything. He looked at the ground while frowning in thought.
"And have no doubt," The voice began. "it will be your deepest fear."
Amelia moved to hug her knees. She couldn't let Matthew die, but her deepest fear? She bit her bottom lip while thinking. Surely they couldn't know what her deepest fear was. That made no sense! Why would they? How would they? She wished Matthew was in the room with her, telling her how it was illogical and she really shouldn't save him because Amelia was sure he had a really low self-esteem... Regardless of whether he did or not, Amelia wished he was there. She knew why he wasn't, and it was rather intelligent on Michael's part, but the want was there. The need for someone who would have easily comforted her and told her it would be okay, even if they both knew it wouldn't be, was there. It was there and eating away at her mind until she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Face her fear or let him die. The answer was easy, now she'd cleared her head a little...
Matthew was still frowning at the floor, thinking. He really didn't like what the first thought was as to his deepest fear, but knew that he couldn't kill Amelia because of his lack of bravery. It was illogical, in a way, and somewhat impossible - or improbable - for them to know the deepest fear but Matthew didn't want to risk it... He wished they were in the same room, but knew that there was a very good reason why they weren't... Though it would have been better if they had been. She would probably have been trying to protect him and he would have been hesitantly letting her, because Matthew had spent too long around Jane to say no to anyone... Glancing around him, Matthew wondered how different it would be... It would have to be something to change perception completely... He knew there was only one way to find out, though he'd already decided what he'd do...
They both closed their eyes before saying their decision. Michael smirked and looked at James, who had no idea who was down there.
"Go, Big Bad Wolf..."
James held back a snarl of distaste for the name and focused on one of them as best he could at such a distance, searching their mind for their fear and for any clue as to who it was. He was curious and this was an easy way to find out. A small, repeated line of words alerted him to a familiar voice...
"Not her. Anyone but her..."
A familiar voice he'd heard both in and out of his mind. He tried to push the thought away and focused on the person, the fear. On pulling it out of the person's mind and producing it as a believable thing...
Matthew opened his eyes, his heart thudding inside his chest uncomfortably. Everything seemed normal, though somewhat dreamlike, until a voice came floating to him. A voice he hadn't heard in a very long time...
"Hello Matthew..."
His head spun around and he came face to face with Diana Reid. She was staring at him before she looked around. Matthew blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was going on as the room seemed to spin and twirl, colours exploding from the floor and the walls despite them being grey. He wanted to stand, but he felt like he'd fall over if he tried. He wanted to speak, but nausea was setting in.
A meow sounded from the other side of the room, making Matthew look for the owner. A ginger cat was running towards him, though making no sound. Small whispers bled through the silence, reaching his ears and twisting into his brain.
Foolish.
Stupid.
It'll kill you. You'll die here.
I hope it's not a vice...
Each had a different voice. Each had a different tone, a different intention. No owners were to be seen, though. No English woman hoping something wasn't a vice. No child saying that the cat would kill him. No growling man inserting 'foolish' in as often as possible. No one calling him stupid. None were present, yet the voices continued.
Let the madness begin.
That was a voice he recognised. That was a voice he'd heard in his mind before, snarling and angry.
"Stop it, James." He snapped, forcing himself to his feet. His mother stood next to him, looking around.
"Does it look like he's here? I certainly don't think so..."
Matthew looked at her and shook his head silently as he looked away. The cat wound itself around his ankles silently as clouds of colour filled the air.
Not a vice. Not a vice. You're a vice.
Foolish.
You'll die here as a vice.
Pressing his back against the wall, he could feel fear rising. Fear building in his head and in his chest, forcing his heart to beat. Faster and faster. Everything seemed to be turning. Spinning and twirling. The colours danced with the movements of the room, though the room couldn't be moving. Logic told him it couldn't be.
Stupid.
A not a virtue but a vice. What else could memory be?
The English woman spoke the clearest. The most logical voice ringing out through his mind, bringing him momentary calm before the fear rose once more like the gas colours coming from the floor.
It certainly isn't good.
"Can't distinguish reality from illusion? I know how you feel."
"Shut up."
"Rude, Matthew. I thought I taught you manners."
No help at all!
Certainly a vice. Must be a vice. She's a vice and so's that cat. That blasted cat, putting us both on edge.
A young woman with black hair and green eyes began to fade into existance. Her dress blue with a white apron. An English woman who nodded at him.
"Blasted cat. No help at all. A rabbit would be more useful."
"What?"
"A rabbit. A white rabbit. He'd be more useful, but he's always so late and mad!" The woman stepped closer to him, his mother watched her silently. "Are you mad?"
"Mad?"
"More than merely mad." His mother commented next to him, making Matthew glare at her.
"Merely mad? I could help you, but... Is sanity required for the job?"
"Barely any."
"Oh God. Kill me now..." Matthew muttered, putting his palms against his eyes and rubbing at them with a soft groan.
"No help at all. I'm very much on edge."
"When you're not, you're taking up too much space." Diana snapped. Matthew sat against the wall, not taking his hands away from his eyes and hoping it would end soon... Either by chance, magic, miracle or murder...
James' eyes opened as he realised who it was. He glared at Michael, who didn't seem to notice as he hummed to himself softly.
"Why him?"
"He's her prince, dear wolf. Why did you think?"
"He's innocent."
"No one's innocent. Do you know what he's done? Do you want to know? I'm sure the little princess doesn't. She's been on the receiving end of actions like his." Michael stated, his words winding around James' brain, worming their way through his skull and digging in. He shook his head to remove the hold they had on him and frowned. He opened his mouth to speak when realisation struck.
"Amelia... You have her too?!"
"Of course. The little princess who needs to sleep..."
James' jaw dropped as Michael, oblivious, chuckled softly.
"You may want to calm down..." He suggested, pulling the headphones he was wearing from the sound port. A yell tore through the air. "It seems you're messing with his fear..."
James swallowed hard, feeling rather sick now as he realised what had happened in the hallucination, and closed his eyes as he focused again, searching for her fear despite not wanting to. He knew it was too late now, though. He had to continued...
Amelia's eyes opened as she felt something tugging against her arms. Looking down, she saw ropes tied around her tightly, restricting her movement. She was trapped. She looked up with panic to see a group of rather burly looking men. They looked at her and grinned.
"What's up, babe?"
Her heart began to thud in her chest. Usually this wouldn't be so much of a problem, but today was different...
"I'll make your bed rock..."
"Tha-That wa-was terrible..." She said, attempting to keep herself distracted from the feeling settling in her stomach and tearing through her veins. The situation was filling her with dread and fear, making her almost wish that she hadn't chosen this...
"Yeah? Won't be once you got some of this..."
Amelia couldn't help the nerve-filled laughter that rose from her. The men got angry, though, and began stalking forward. The first one began to warp. His lips tore into a wide, unnatural grin. Red dribbled down his jaw and dripped onto the floor. He limped forward, barely walking straight though laughing as he moved.
"I'll make your be-be-bed rrroooccckkkk." He growled, moving ever closer to her. Amelia tried to move away, though she could feel how little use it would be. Her arms were trapped against her sides, her legs barely able to move her while she was in the position she was. She could feel herself panicking. She couldn't defend herself. She couldn't move away. She would fall victim to this... Monster. Her heart thudded in her chest, pounding against her lung repeatedly and making her think it would crack her ribs.
"No... No! Stop!" She screamed, trying desperately to move away from him, her eyes glued to his wreaked features.
"I'll tr-tr-try not to rrriiippp you."
Amelia screamed loudly, now flailing as much as she could in a terrified attempt at getting him away from her or her away from him. He continued to move forward, though. One torn hand reached for her. She screamed again, feeling like she was about to tear her voice box with the scream though unable to stop. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she continued to scream and wriggle and squirm and thrash, hoping not to feel his torn, worn hand on her...
Explosions ripped through the air. Vibrations shook the windows and outside a mushroom of fire and smoke extended into the air. Michael stood up with a snarl.
"Joker. We had an arrangement!" He yelled, making James jump and lose his concentration. His body tensed, ready to fight if he need to. The oldest man seemed to be completely uninterested in him, though. Standing, James realised that the links he had with Amelia and Matthew were broken. He crept towards the door before snatching the keys to their rooms and running. He knew where they were. He could unlock the doors and get them out!
Another explosion pulled the air apart, shaking the walls of the building as James ran down the stairs and corridors. Stopping outside a door, his hands shook slightly as he began trying to get the key to the room. He tried a key at random, but it wouldn't turn. Another key was shoved into the keyhole. Nothing. On the third key, the door unlocked. Opening the door, James' eyes fell on Amelia, who lay panting on the floor. He stepped into the room, his footstep attracting her attention. Her eyes met his and she frowned.
"J-James?"
"Amelia, we need to go."
"Whu-What about Matthew?" She asked, taking his hand as he moved to help her up.
"I've got the key to his room. He's next door."
Amelia nodded, her face pulling into an expression of determination.
"I'm sorry."
"Let's just get him and get out. We can deal with everything else later." She suggested, nodding along with her words. James fell silent and nodded in agreement before the pair left the room.
Go away. Just go away...
"In here." James said, trying the keys in the keyhole. Amelia looked around them as she waited patiently for James to get the right key...
Matthew had his knees drawn to his chest, his arms resting on top as he hid his face from Alice, Diana and the cat. The damnable cat that he'd run over when he was twenty. Jane's cat, Hotspot. Ginger fur-ball that Matthew hated. A vice and not a virtue, just like Alice kept saying... Except, she wasn't anymore. He lifted his head hesitantly, expecting them to still be there. The room was empty. Nothing. No one. Matthew looked around, not quite managing to believe that they had gone, before another explosion sounded. The door opened a moment later to reveal James. He smiled at Matthew.
"C'mon Doc."
Amelia poked her head around the door frame as James spoke and nodded in greeting to Matthew, a smile pulling at her lips, too.
"Hey Pretty Boy." She grinned, watching him. Matthew shook his head, trying to forget the hallucinations.
"I'm going to kill Ryan for teaching you that nickname." He mumbled, rising from the floor and walking towards the pair quickly with shaky legs, noticing that Amelia seemed to be somewhat shaky, too. "And possibly you for using it." He added, smiling softly at her. Amelia nodded and giggled, though stopped as vibrations from another explosion shook the building.
"They're getting close. We should go." James stated softly, drawing their attention to him. Amelia nodded and looked at the pair before looking around.
"Ladies first."
"A gentlemen, but that might be a mistake."
She flashed a grin at Matthew as the trio began to move along the corridor, hurrying their footsteps with the memory of what had happened and the last explosion. Regardless of the serious situation, James shook his head with almost amusement...
"Can you stop flirting for two seconds?"
Matthew looked somewhat indignant.
"We're not flir-"
The next explosion tore through the wall, effectively bringing down half of the floor above with it. Amelia's scream of surprise barely held itself in the air as the dust began to fall and the wreckage revealed itself...
Name: Crow
Characters: (In order of appearance) Harley Quinn, Michael Smith, Joker, James Wayne, Amelia Blake, Matthew Reid, Diana Reid, Hotspot Reid, Alice, various unnamed characters.
Words: 7284 words.
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- which would you rather have? a rewind or a pause button?
- Your character has a choice - face their worst fear...or let someone die. What is that fear and what choice would they make?
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It had been months since Joker's 'death'. Harley had been alone since then. Since the day Harley and Batman had toasted, only Harley hadn't. She'd exploded into a breakdown and thrown the glass on the floor. Once she'd gotten inside, Harley had begun screaming at the goons who bothered her while she curled up where Joker usually did and cried. Since then, Harley had become the main threat towards the peace of Gotham. Joker's goons followed her orders and if they didn't, she set the hyenas on them. While Joker had been around, she had been practically tame. Now that he wasn't around, though, Hell seemed to have been released in the form of Harley Quinn. She followed the plans he'd made before he disappeared and fixed them as she went along. It wasn't the same as if he were the one to be blowing building up and threatening bank managers, though. It just wasn't the same...
The night sky blanketed Gotham. Clouds obscured the stars and the moon. The roads nearest the hideout were free of traffic and vehicles aside from a van or two of Harley's. The Clown Princess herself was walking towards the hideout, her eyes staring ahead of her in an almost dead gaze. Opening the door without stopping, she stepped inside before seeing a figure in the darkness. The short hair told her that her momentary happiness at the thought that her Joker had come back was nothing but a mere thought. She raised an eyebrow at the figure and shifted her weight.
"Who're you?"
The figure turned and looked at her. His lips pulled into a smirk.
"I heard you've been down."
"Answer my question!" Harley snapped, not at all in the mood for whoever this was and their games. The smirk grew and the figure looked down. His hands were in his pockets, she noticed while watching him with growing irritation.
"You ought to know... Not like Joker was ever quiet about me and my games. My games with the knights and the princesses."
Harley crossed her arms and shifted her weight again almost defiantly.
"Smith. Yeah, Mr J talked 'bout cha."
Michael gave a small laugh.
"Just talked? I'm insulted, Harleeeeen." He drew her name out with a squeak of a voice, his eyes seeming to glitter mischievously. Harley gritted her teeth. "Not even a little rant? Just a little one?"
"No! Get out of my-"
"What if you could bring him back?"
Harley froze. Bring him back? Bring her darling Mister J back? Her arms uncrossed as she watched him hopefully, never once thinking that he could be lying.
"R-Really?"
Michael nodded silently, smirk having turned into a grin. Harley paused and thought. Could she trust him? Could she believe that he had that ability? His hands came out of his pockets as she thought and she saw them. Two buttons rested in his palms. One had two triangles pointed backwards while the other had two vertical lines. A rewind button and a pause button.
"You just have to take us all back. We'd remember it all. We'd remember everything, but no one else would and he'd be back."
Harley chewed on her lip now. Her eyes glued to the button in his right hand. Rewind. She could rewind it. Rewind time. Rewind the past few months. Rewind the entire time he'd been missing and have him back. He'd be back. Her Joker would be back. Her hand reached for the button before she froze. Her arm dropped back to her side as she looked at his face.
"What's the catch, Smith?"
The man chuckled and shook his head.
"No catch, dear Harleeeeen. Just the memories and your huntsman back." He assured her calmly, his eyes remaining on her. His dark eyes boring into her. They looked so much like Joker's eyes. Darkness. Cold, empty darkness, though she knew they were capable of holding wamth, of holding emotion. Joker's did, and so could Michael's. She didn't say anything, though, and merely took the button of her choice from him.
"Whu-What do I do?" She asked, her voice shaking a little with nerves. Would it work? Was he trying to trick her? Her gaze moved from the button to his face again as he put the other button into his pocket.
"Press it."
Her gaze moved back to the button. She took a deep breath, thinking only of Joker and how he'd be back with her, closed her eyes and-
Opening her eyes, she was stood in their hideout. She looked around herself. Michael was gone. The goons were lounging around lazily, taking no notice of her. A look at her hands told her that they were empty. The button was gone. Had it worked? Turning to the nearest goon, Harley drew herself to her full height.
"Hey!" She barked. "Where's Mistah J?"
The goon looked up with little interest and raised an eyebrow behind his mask.
"Busy, Quinn."
"Not what I asked and you know it. Where?!"
"In his office. Where is he normally?!"
Office. His office. He was there. He was alive. Harley almost sprinted to his office, her bunches bouncing as her lips pulled into a grin of happiness. He was back! He was there and she could hug him and love him! She knocked on the door lightly, the tune cheerful.
"Puddin', you here?" She sung, opening the door a crack and poking her head into it. He was hunched over the desk, scribbling on paper. Harley skipped forward before looking over his shoulder silently.
"Whaddya want, Harley?" He grunted, not sitting up. Harley bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Jus' curious. Whatcha doin', Puddin'?"
Joker looked up at her and Harley bit her bottom lip. His painted eyebrow rose before he grinned.
"Big finale, Harlssss."
Harley's eyebrows pulled together. Finale? Oh! That's what he called the ending. He'd been scaring that mob boss for months. Picking at his members, killing them off, stealing the weapons. Harley gave a nod.
"But... You're jus' gonna scare him, right?" She asked, hopeful that he'd agree. Joker laughed and shook his head.
"Of course... While blowing him up." He grinned and went back to scribbling. Harley felt like crying. She was going to lose him again. No. She couldn't. Not again. She took a deep breath and shifted her weight a little.
"Puddin'... Maybe you could just send some of the clowns out? Worry him a little more?"
Joker looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He didn't look impressed. Harley knew she had to think of something to say and quickly. She gave a shrug as he stood, trying to look casual.
"Well, that way he knows you haven't given up. Or... Or he'll think you have, and then you can go after him later!"
He seemed to consider this for a moment, having frozen in his movements. His eyes looked into her - bore into hers - before he chuckled.
"Oh Harley. Harley Harley Harley." He grinned. Did that mean he wasn't going? Had she convinced him? He didn't say anything, though did leave the room with hurried and heavy footsteps while laughing manically. Harley was left stood in the office, looking at the door. Tears began to leak from her eyes at the thought that she was going to lose him again. She lowered herself into the chair and bit her bottom lip, hoping he'd come back.
--
It had been a number of days since Harley had convinced Joker not to go. The mob boss had been put in hospital. The police didn't know why, but Michael did. It was obvious. Joker had caused it. Not with his own gloved hands, of course, but he'd given the order. It was obvious.
BOOM
The room shook as an explosion tore through a building near-by. The windows rattled and the television was impossible to hear for a moment before the tremors and echoes died. the news anchor looked shaken before he straightened himself, his clothes and the papers and looked back at the camera.
"As you can hear, Joker's explosions continue to rip through the city. There are now more than fifty people dead, and many more injured...
A knock on the door tore Michael's somewhat distracted attention from the television as a tall, well built man walked into the room. His curled hair made him look taller than he was as he towered over his boss, their dark eyes fixating on the other man as the employee spoke.
"You have a visitor."
"Is it him?"
The man nodded, not at all disturbed by the grin that pulled at Michael's pale lips as he stood.
"Bring him in and bring some tea, too. Can't have a meeting without tea."
The man nodded again and left the room. A black haired woman walked into the room with a tray, her hips swaying slightly as she walked, her heels clicking. The cups on the tray chinked against each other, the china gently bouncing off of the other cup and saucer. She placed the metal tray on the table and looked at her boss with a raised eyebrow.
"Enjoying the view?" She asked while taking a teapot off of the tray. Michael smirked.
"Somewhat." He nodded, making the woman laugh softly while removing the milk jug from the tray now and placing it next to the teapot on the table.
"Enjoy it while you can, Sir..." She said somewhat cheekily, though Michael chuckled and nodded.
"Don't worry about that, Elizabeth." He grinned while taking the sugar bowl from her and nodding again dismissively. "You can leave now." He added, setting himself back into his seat. Elizabeth nodded and left the room with the tray. She paused to let Joker in past her before she continued on her way and shut the door behind her. Michael was pouring tea as Joker stalked forward, his almost black gaze on the less intimidating man.
"Well?" Joker asked, his voice curling the words into the air with a growl purring along the edge of them. Michael smirked and offered Joker a seat silently, not looking at him. Joker ground his teeth before crossing the room to the empty seat and sitting opposite the other man. Michael looked at him while placing a cup of tea down for Joker.
"Milk is there," Michael indicated to the milk jug. "sugar is there." He indicated to the sugar bowl. "There are no biscuits, I'm afraid. It tends to take away the taste of the tea." He added while now making himself a cup of tea carefully, his gaze having turned back to the tea set as he moved. Joker slumped in his seat while watching him silently, waiting for Michael to talk. Placing the teapot down and stirring, having put the milk and sugar in before the water, Michael looked at Joker before taking the spoon out carefully and placing it on the saucer. "They have to stop. The explosions have to stop." Michael stated, though didn't give Joker time to reply. "It's very difficult to go about my daily business with your bombs blowing half the kingdom up and putting all the king's men on high alert."
Joker laughed harshly.
"You think... You think I would stop for you?" He asked before laughing some more and shaking his head. "That's... That's a - ah - good joke."
Michael smirked and sipped his tea before placing the cup back down and nodding.
"I thought you might think that. This is no joke, though." He stated before looking at Joker again, his expression one of someone who was most certainly not joking. "They have to stop... No. Not stop..." He leaned forward, his lips pulling into another smirk. "Move. Away from me. Away from here. I can't have them around here - you understand, I'm sure." He raised his eyebrows almost expectantly. "And if you don't, I will stop you. Do you think they'd care?"
Joker grinned before breathing out a laugh and stood while straightening his jacket.
"I look forward to your attempts, Smitthh." He hissed out the name before laughing a little more and heading for the door. Michael also stood, his hands going into his pockets.
"She's a pretty little princess, Ms Quinn is. Very pretty..." He said to Joker's back. The other male froze as he began talking about Harley. "Be a shame if someone were to give her eternal sleep..."
Joker looked at him with a growl on his lips. Michael smirked and looked in the mirror at the end of the room, above a white fireplace. His hands moved to his tie as he began to fiddle with it. Joker watched him, grinding his teeth with anger as Michael moved somewhat smugly.
"I could give you help, equipment, could keep those foolish mobs out of the way... Or I could go for her; your little Princess. Your little Harley Quinn. You scratch my back, Sir Jester, and I'll scratch yours." His gaze turned back to Joker with a small smile. "Your choice." He said simply, hands back in his pockets as he began to walk forward casually, his eyes never leaving Joker's painted features. Joker stepped towards him, looking at Michael as his smile grew. A moment passed before Joker nodded with a hint of a growl. "You'll move them?"
"Yes." He almost grunted, his lips pulled into a silent snarl as he looked at Michael. The other man seemed to not notice, though, as his smile turned into grin.
"Have a nice day, Joker." He turned back to the tea before stopping and turning around to look at Joker. "Oh, I want to borrow someone... Just a small part... Mister Wayne?" Michael inquired, raising his eyebrows. "As long as I break him out of our wonderful asylum, may I borrow him?" He asked, watching Joker nod as he walked out of the room. Michael chuckled to himself and sat down, bringing the tea to his lips with a smirk as his other hand moved to slick back his already perfect hair.
--
The white walls seemed to stare back after too long. His eyes faded repeatedly from red to blue and back again, almost looking like two lights were being switched on and off. Hearing noises, James stood, curious as to what was going on, and moved to the front of his cell for a better look. His hands pressed against the glass as he tried to see down the corridor. It was no use, though...
The guards in the security room nodded to each other and sat. Their eyes on the camera, waiting for one person and one text. One text that would tell them when to start. Getting comfy, one of them lifted their coffee to their lips and sipped. The other sat back and they continued to wait...
Outside, the man they were waiting for was walking up to the asylum. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding his phone. His jaw moved as he chewed mint gum. Stopping outside the large, forboding wooden doors of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, his gaze turned to his phone. His fingers moved across the screen with speed as he typed out a message. Once it was sent, he grinned and stepped through the doors, his empty hand opening them while the other put the phone in his pocket. The receptionist looked up momentarily.
"Hello, welcome to-"
"Thank you, but save it. I'm only here to see someone." He said smoothly, smiling at her charmingly. She smiled back and nodded before settling into her chair a little more and flipping open the magazine in her hands to the page it was open to before. He strode purposefully through the corridors of Arkham Asylum, his shined shoes barely making a sound as he moved. He passed an unconscious body - that of a doctor, from what he knew of the man - and smirked at the guard at the entrance to the cells. "Did he get in your way?"
"He wanted to come in... Talk to his patient."
"Pity..." He mused with a hint of amusement and stepped easily through the doorway. "Did he see you?"
"No, sir. Bob was on duty. That's who he was talking to."
"And where is Bob now?"
"In with the cameras, Sir."
The man nodded with a hint of glee.
"Excellent."
As he walked down the corridor, passing many glass-fronted cells on the way, the man looked up at the cameras. He continued to chew the gum casually, his footsteps still barely making a sound. He stopped outside a cell and smiled at the occupant.
"You're being released."
James had moved back to where he'd been sitting, though kept his eyes on the front of the cell and what was beyond the thick glass that kept him enclosed in the white walled box. Doctor Reid had often said that he disliked the fact these were cells and not rooms, though admitted that he understood why they had to be like this... Indeed, Doctor Reid had been here a lot... It was a surprise to James that he hadn't come down to the cells today. It seemed to be a routine of sorts for the man... Those thoughts were distracted by others. Smug thoughts. Thoughts of how the cameras probably wouldn't pick him up... Thoughts of how that was unfortunate... They were followed by a statement from a suit wearing man with slicked back hair and dark brown eyes. James raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"You're being released, dear knight. Or are you a knight? No... More like a sidekick. The villains always have a sidekick."
Foolish boy, didn't he hear. Can you hear this?
"Yes, I can. Why am I being released?"
"Because I require your assistance on a small matter. You'll be returned to your leader once we're finished."
James stood slowly. What did Reid have to say about this? Almost as if reading James' mind, the man chuckled.
"Don't worry about that doctor, though. He won't know for a while. Taking a little sleep."
Dread filled James, though he nodded regardless.
"Only a small one. He'll wake up soon. His head might hurt, though, but I suppose it would... Having this man knock you out isn't the best way to sleep nor the best thing to wake up from." The man chuckled again and nodded to the guard, who produced a card and swiped it at the cell. The front pulled back, giving James an exit. "Come along. We haven't much time to waste."
When James didn't move, the man rolled his eyes.
Ordinary... Boring...
"Grab him."
With a yell, James tried to make the guard let go. He couldn't, though, and thus had to accept that he would be dragged around by some brute.
"How are you doing this?" James asked, frowning softly at the Irishman.
"It's not what you know," The elder male began, walking purposefully past a guard. "but who you know."
As they left the cells, James caught sight of someone on the floor... Someone probably tall and seemingly thin with brown hair...
"Do-"
"Don't worry about him." The man seemed to snap and looked at him. "He's boring... He's on the side of the angels..."
James opened his mouth to speak, though seemed to decide against it. The man nodded with a smirk.
"You're learning... And I'm Michael." He looked at James and continued to chew. "I expect you've heard of me." He added, sounding somewhat bored. James nodded with a frown. Michael Smith. He'd broken into a museum, been found at the scene of the crime, and all to be found not guilty by the jury. No one could figure out how...
--
The days that passed after the unusual event were filled with mayhem for the Gotham City Police Department. After the unconscious doctor had woken up and been checked for any lasting damage, he'd been questioned by the commissioner before being allowed to carry on as he wished. Today, that had been to go to the police station at lunchtime.
Having agreed to meeting up with Amelia before being knocked out, Matthew stepped through the doors before smiling politely at a near-by police officer in greeting. They were fairly used to him coming in every so often, though he didn't seem to be used to them being there. Amelia was sat at her desk, writing out a report when he snuck up behind her and looked over her shoulder.
"That should be a comma, not a full stop." He stated, pointing at a full stop. Amelia jumped and looked up at him before frowning and looking at what he was pointing at. She pursed her lips and gave it a tail.
"Better?"
"Much. Now it make sense." Matthew joked before grinning at her. Amelia shook her head with an amused smile.
"How's the head?"
"Don't know. Haven't asked it."
Amelia snorted and nodded.
"Logical." She mumbled sarcastically as Matthew moved to the front of her desk and stole a chair from an empty one. He sat opposite her and raised an eyebrow. After a moment, Amelia looked up. "What?"
"Lunch."
"Wha- Oh! Damn, I forgot." She looked around before looking back at him. "Sorry."
"Other plans?" He looked hopeful that she hadn't, though also looked uncertain, as though he suspected she did have other plans. Amelia shook her head.
"Unless you count finishing this..." She indicated to the report and Matthew smiled softly. "Gimme a moment. I just need to tell someone I'm off on a break..." She stated and walked off to find Jim. As she turned a corner and disappeared, an officer by the name of Walker walked into the station. Upon seeing Matthew, he shot the younger man a questioning expression and began walking over.
"Here for a reason?" He asked gently. Matthew nodded, though the elder man could tell he was nervous.
"I... Amelia... Meeting Amelia for lunch... I-I think she's looking for-"
"Mark!"
Matthew breathed a silent sigh of relief as Amelia walked over to the pair of them. He rose from the seat somewhat gracefully, though kept his head down. Officer Walker smiled at her.
"Break?"
"Break." She nodded and moved to grab Matthew's hand. As she did so, there was a yell then a sickening crack. Amelia looked around and found herself looking at a tall man with black, wavy hair in a suit. He was followed by a somewhat shorter man with greying, light brown hair who was also in a suit. Behind both of them was their boss. He gave a smirk and straighten his suit.
"Nasty business..." He commented lightly, though laughed as Mark drew his gun.
"Hands in the air!"
"For walking into a police station? Joker would certainly approve of such a bad joke." Michael replied, his normally empty eyes glittering with... Something. Mark lowered his weapon slowly, his eyes glued to Michael.
"What do you want, Smith?" Amelia snapped, letting go of Matthew's hand and crossing her arms over her chest. Matthew lingered behind her, looking at the ground as though hoping that it would suddenly swallow him whole.
"You, dear princess. You and your prince. You've got a choice, you see..."
Amelia frowned in questioning, though before she could ask anything, the men in suits moved towards the officers nearest to them and broke their necks. Amelia, Mark and Matthew winced at the sounds of cracking bones.
"Stop it! You want us then-"
"Bad idea." Matthew whimpered behind her, though Amelia wasn't listening or was, perhaps, trying to ignore the fact that a voice in her head agreed with him.
"-take us! You don't need to hurt these people."
Michael looked at her as though she were completely missing the point, which she probably was.
"Uh, noooo. They're as important as you are..."
Amelia frowned with confusion, again, though only until more necks were cracked as Michael walked towards the pair.
"You know... I could have just kept watching... But it was too good of an opportunity. No one here who mattered-"
"They mattered." Amelia interrupted, her voice shaking with suppressed anger. Michael laughed.
"No one here who mattered to me." He corrected himself, watching her with a smirk. "But, I suppose not even your prince really matters to me..." He mused aloud as his suit clad men walked towards the pair, both seemingly ready to crack Matthew's neck.
"No! Don't hurt him..."
"Of course not. I want to see his secrets..." He grinned before nodding to the pair. They each grabbed one of the couple and marched them out of the door. Once next to a rather large car, the suit clad men knocked Amelia and Matthew out before putting them in the car with almost care, though the trickle of blood coming from their heads said that this pair certainly did not care for them like their actions suggested...
--
Slumped in his chair, his dark eyes on the screen, he watched the news anchor sitting stiffly behind the desk.
"And our current news story is that of the disappearance of Officer Amelia Blake and Doctor Matthew Reid. Linked to these disappearances are the murders of five police officers at lunch time today. The CCTV that has been released suggests that this was done by Michael Smith, who was found not guilty of breaking into the Gotham City Museum just last week..."
Joker giggled. That was why he'd been told to move his bombs... It explained a lot, and gave Joker an idea. Standing, he didn't notice Harley as she looked at him questioningly and calling three goons out of the other room.
"We're going on a treasure hunt." He told them, grinning almost cheerfully if the scars were forgotten. Harley frowned.
"Whatcha doin', Puddin'?"
Joker turned to her and chuckled before cupping her cheeks with his hands almost lovingly.
"Don't you worry, Harlssss. I'll be back soon. Need to blow a king from his throne." He chuckled again and practically skipping from the room, heading for the nearest van while yelling back to the goons: "And don't forget the bombs!"
Harley hugged herself, though let his words to her run through her mind repeatedly as reassurance. He'd be back...
--
Hours of unconsciousness passed them by before they awoke in large, empty grey rooms. Matthew awoke first. Pain split through his skull as he looked around, his eyes narrowed against the pain. He reached behind his head and gently touched the throbbing area, wincing at the fresh pain that burst from the area. Bringing his hand back in front of him, Matthew saw red on his finger tips. He momentarily wondered how hard the man had hit him, though soon went back to looking around. It was empty, though. Completely empty. No furniture. No decorations. Nothing. An empty room that smelt faintly of cheap air freshener... Matthew scrunched his nose in dislike of the smell before he saw a door. No doubt it was locked, and Matthew knew he wouldn't even know where to go if he did open it...
"Amelia?" He asked aloud, the voice rebounding off of the walls and back to him. His head gave a throb of disagreement with the echos and he winced softly before moving to get on his knees. Nothing here except him. No one here except him. Entirely empty aside from one man with a headache and blood. Where was Amelia, then?
Awaking slowly, Amelia found herself lying down. She looked at the floor, disorientated, before realising that it was the floor and trying to sit up. It worked, and so Amelia found herself sitting in the middle of a room. It appeared to be empty, though she couldn't see everything due to the fact that she hadn't tried to look behind her. A number of minutes were spent just looking around her, trying to figure out anything she could about the room but it was empty. There was nothing in here. No furniture. No decorations. Nothing. An empty room that smelt faintly of cheap air freshener. Amelia stood shakily and smiled when she found that she could stand up. Catching sight of what seemed to be the door, Amelia tried to take a step towards it. As she lifted her leg, though, she found herself crashing to the floor.
"I'm okay, Ma-"
Looking around, Amelia realised that no one had asked if she was okay. No panicked voice. No hurried footsteps to help her up, despite her constantly saying she didn't need help getting up. No Matthew. She sat up and looked around again. Nothing here except her. No one here except her. Entirely empty aside from one woman with a headache and blood. Where was Matthew, then?
As the pair wondered as to the other's whereabouts, a voice broke through the almost empty silence.
"And now you get to choooose!"
Amelia glared at the ceiling. Michael's voice. Unusually cheerful...
"Face your fear, now, or your loved one dies."
Matthew looked somewhat appauled at this, though didn't say anything. He looked at the ground while frowning in thought.
"And have no doubt," The voice began. "it will be your deepest fear."
Amelia moved to hug her knees. She couldn't let Matthew die, but her deepest fear? She bit her bottom lip while thinking. Surely they couldn't know what her deepest fear was. That made no sense! Why would they? How would they? She wished Matthew was in the room with her, telling her how it was illogical and she really shouldn't save him because Amelia was sure he had a really low self-esteem... Regardless of whether he did or not, Amelia wished he was there. She knew why he wasn't, and it was rather intelligent on Michael's part, but the want was there. The need for someone who would have easily comforted her and told her it would be okay, even if they both knew it wouldn't be, was there. It was there and eating away at her mind until she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Face her fear or let him die. The answer was easy, now she'd cleared her head a little...
Matthew was still frowning at the floor, thinking. He really didn't like what the first thought was as to his deepest fear, but knew that he couldn't kill Amelia because of his lack of bravery. It was illogical, in a way, and somewhat impossible - or improbable - for them to know the deepest fear but Matthew didn't want to risk it... He wished they were in the same room, but knew that there was a very good reason why they weren't... Though it would have been better if they had been. She would probably have been trying to protect him and he would have been hesitantly letting her, because Matthew had spent too long around Jane to say no to anyone... Glancing around him, Matthew wondered how different it would be... It would have to be something to change perception completely... He knew there was only one way to find out, though he'd already decided what he'd do...
They both closed their eyes before saying their decision. Michael smirked and looked at James, who had no idea who was down there.
"Go, Big Bad Wolf..."
James held back a snarl of distaste for the name and focused on one of them as best he could at such a distance, searching their mind for their fear and for any clue as to who it was. He was curious and this was an easy way to find out. A small, repeated line of words alerted him to a familiar voice...
"Not her. Anyone but her..."
A familiar voice he'd heard both in and out of his mind. He tried to push the thought away and focused on the person, the fear. On pulling it out of the person's mind and producing it as a believable thing...
--
Matthew opened his eyes, his heart thudding inside his chest uncomfortably. Everything seemed normal, though somewhat dreamlike, until a voice came floating to him. A voice he hadn't heard in a very long time...
"Hello Matthew..."
His head spun around and he came face to face with Diana Reid. She was staring at him before she looked around. Matthew blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was going on as the room seemed to spin and twirl, colours exploding from the floor and the walls despite them being grey. He wanted to stand, but he felt like he'd fall over if he tried. He wanted to speak, but nausea was setting in.
A meow sounded from the other side of the room, making Matthew look for the owner. A ginger cat was running towards him, though making no sound. Small whispers bled through the silence, reaching his ears and twisting into his brain.
Foolish.
Stupid.
It'll kill you. You'll die here.
I hope it's not a vice...
Each had a different voice. Each had a different tone, a different intention. No owners were to be seen, though. No English woman hoping something wasn't a vice. No child saying that the cat would kill him. No growling man inserting 'foolish' in as often as possible. No one calling him stupid. None were present, yet the voices continued.
Let the madness begin.
That was a voice he recognised. That was a voice he'd heard in his mind before, snarling and angry.
"Stop it, James." He snapped, forcing himself to his feet. His mother stood next to him, looking around.
"Does it look like he's here? I certainly don't think so..."
Matthew looked at her and shook his head silently as he looked away. The cat wound itself around his ankles silently as clouds of colour filled the air.
Not a vice. Not a vice. You're a vice.
Foolish.
You'll die here as a vice.
Pressing his back against the wall, he could feel fear rising. Fear building in his head and in his chest, forcing his heart to beat. Faster and faster. Everything seemed to be turning. Spinning and twirling. The colours danced with the movements of the room, though the room couldn't be moving. Logic told him it couldn't be.
Stupid.
A not a virtue but a vice. What else could memory be?
The English woman spoke the clearest. The most logical voice ringing out through his mind, bringing him momentary calm before the fear rose once more like the gas colours coming from the floor.
It certainly isn't good.
"Can't distinguish reality from illusion? I know how you feel."
"Shut up."
"Rude, Matthew. I thought I taught you manners."
No help at all!
Certainly a vice. Must be a vice. She's a vice and so's that cat. That blasted cat, putting us both on edge.
A young woman with black hair and green eyes began to fade into existance. Her dress blue with a white apron. An English woman who nodded at him.
"Blasted cat. No help at all. A rabbit would be more useful."
"What?"
"A rabbit. A white rabbit. He'd be more useful, but he's always so late and mad!" The woman stepped closer to him, his mother watched her silently. "Are you mad?"
"Mad?"
"More than merely mad." His mother commented next to him, making Matthew glare at her.
"Merely mad? I could help you, but... Is sanity required for the job?"
"Barely any."
"Oh God. Kill me now..." Matthew muttered, putting his palms against his eyes and rubbing at them with a soft groan.
"No help at all. I'm very much on edge."
"When you're not, you're taking up too much space." Diana snapped. Matthew sat against the wall, not taking his hands away from his eyes and hoping it would end soon... Either by chance, magic, miracle or murder...
--
James' eyes opened as he realised who it was. He glared at Michael, who didn't seem to notice as he hummed to himself softly.
"Why him?"
"He's her prince, dear wolf. Why did you think?"
"He's innocent."
"No one's innocent. Do you know what he's done? Do you want to know? I'm sure the little princess doesn't. She's been on the receiving end of actions like his." Michael stated, his words winding around James' brain, worming their way through his skull and digging in. He shook his head to remove the hold they had on him and frowned. He opened his mouth to speak when realisation struck.
"Amelia... You have her too?!"
"Of course. The little princess who needs to sleep..."
James' jaw dropped as Michael, oblivious, chuckled softly.
"You may want to calm down..." He suggested, pulling the headphones he was wearing from the sound port. A yell tore through the air. "It seems you're messing with his fear..."
James swallowed hard, feeling rather sick now as he realised what had happened in the hallucination, and closed his eyes as he focused again, searching for her fear despite not wanting to. He knew it was too late now, though. He had to continued...
--
Amelia's eyes opened as she felt something tugging against her arms. Looking down, she saw ropes tied around her tightly, restricting her movement. She was trapped. She looked up with panic to see a group of rather burly looking men. They looked at her and grinned.
"What's up, babe?"
Her heart began to thud in her chest. Usually this wouldn't be so much of a problem, but today was different...
"I'll make your bed rock..."
"Tha-That wa-was terrible..." She said, attempting to keep herself distracted from the feeling settling in her stomach and tearing through her veins. The situation was filling her with dread and fear, making her almost wish that she hadn't chosen this...
"Yeah? Won't be once you got some of this..."
Amelia couldn't help the nerve-filled laughter that rose from her. The men got angry, though, and began stalking forward. The first one began to warp. His lips tore into a wide, unnatural grin. Red dribbled down his jaw and dripped onto the floor. He limped forward, barely walking straight though laughing as he moved.
"I'll make your be-be-bed rrroooccckkkk." He growled, moving ever closer to her. Amelia tried to move away, though she could feel how little use it would be. Her arms were trapped against her sides, her legs barely able to move her while she was in the position she was. She could feel herself panicking. She couldn't defend herself. She couldn't move away. She would fall victim to this... Monster. Her heart thudded in her chest, pounding against her lung repeatedly and making her think it would crack her ribs.
"No... No! Stop!" She screamed, trying desperately to move away from him, her eyes glued to his wreaked features.
"I'll tr-tr-try not to rrriiippp you."
Amelia screamed loudly, now flailing as much as she could in a terrified attempt at getting him away from her or her away from him. He continued to move forward, though. One torn hand reached for her. She screamed again, feeling like she was about to tear her voice box with the scream though unable to stop. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she continued to scream and wriggle and squirm and thrash, hoping not to feel his torn, worn hand on her...
--
Explosions ripped through the air. Vibrations shook the windows and outside a mushroom of fire and smoke extended into the air. Michael stood up with a snarl.
"Joker. We had an arrangement!" He yelled, making James jump and lose his concentration. His body tensed, ready to fight if he need to. The oldest man seemed to be completely uninterested in him, though. Standing, James realised that the links he had with Amelia and Matthew were broken. He crept towards the door before snatching the keys to their rooms and running. He knew where they were. He could unlock the doors and get them out!
Another explosion pulled the air apart, shaking the walls of the building as James ran down the stairs and corridors. Stopping outside a door, his hands shook slightly as he began trying to get the key to the room. He tried a key at random, but it wouldn't turn. Another key was shoved into the keyhole. Nothing. On the third key, the door unlocked. Opening the door, James' eyes fell on Amelia, who lay panting on the floor. He stepped into the room, his footstep attracting her attention. Her eyes met his and she frowned.
"J-James?"
"Amelia, we need to go."
"Whu-What about Matthew?" She asked, taking his hand as he moved to help her up.
"I've got the key to his room. He's next door."
Amelia nodded, her face pulling into an expression of determination.
"I'm sorry."
"Let's just get him and get out. We can deal with everything else later." She suggested, nodding along with her words. James fell silent and nodded in agreement before the pair left the room.
Go away. Just go away...
"In here." James said, trying the keys in the keyhole. Amelia looked around them as she waited patiently for James to get the right key...
--
Matthew had his knees drawn to his chest, his arms resting on top as he hid his face from Alice, Diana and the cat. The damnable cat that he'd run over when he was twenty. Jane's cat, Hotspot. Ginger fur-ball that Matthew hated. A vice and not a virtue, just like Alice kept saying... Except, she wasn't anymore. He lifted his head hesitantly, expecting them to still be there. The room was empty. Nothing. No one. Matthew looked around, not quite managing to believe that they had gone, before another explosion sounded. The door opened a moment later to reveal James. He smiled at Matthew.
"C'mon Doc."
Amelia poked her head around the door frame as James spoke and nodded in greeting to Matthew, a smile pulling at her lips, too.
"Hey Pretty Boy." She grinned, watching him. Matthew shook his head, trying to forget the hallucinations.
"I'm going to kill Ryan for teaching you that nickname." He mumbled, rising from the floor and walking towards the pair quickly with shaky legs, noticing that Amelia seemed to be somewhat shaky, too. "And possibly you for using it." He added, smiling softly at her. Amelia nodded and giggled, though stopped as vibrations from another explosion shook the building.
"They're getting close. We should go." James stated softly, drawing their attention to him. Amelia nodded and looked at the pair before looking around.
"Ladies first."
"A gentlemen, but that might be a mistake."
She flashed a grin at Matthew as the trio began to move along the corridor, hurrying their footsteps with the memory of what had happened and the last explosion. Regardless of the serious situation, James shook his head with almost amusement...
"Can you stop flirting for two seconds?"
Matthew looked somewhat indignant.
"We're not flir-"
The next explosion tore through the wall, effectively bringing down half of the floor above with it. Amelia's scream of surprise barely held itself in the air as the dust began to fall and the wreckage revealed itself...
