A/N: This is my second story in this section. It doesn't take place in the same universe as Mad Night in a Mad House (no longer continued) and I'm not sure if I'm going to finish this story. I have written out couple chapters already and they will be up quickly because this time I wrote them straight in English unlike I have done before. English isn't my first language so my grammar will not be perfect but I'll try so please bear with me. I hope you will have fun reading this.

THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FROM THE GAME ARKHAM KNIGHT AND FROM THE SEASON PASS. Since the game is years old now this shouldn't be surprise.

Part I: Rebecca Robinson is left to face Gotham's worst Halloween ever. One ex-Robin and one dead-Robin are running loose in Gotham with their own goals and agendas. Rebecca's mind isn't the ideal one to begin with and with a history like she has... Will she be able to survive without loosing her sanity or her life? What will happen when Clown Prince of Crime wants his toys back and even Scarecrow can't stop him? Will Rebecca end up just being a toy to dead man's legacy?

Chapter 4 - Joke is rated M

Romance will be slow burn. (And I do mean slow.)

Contains detailed description of graphic violence, strong language and descriptions of mental illnesses and self-harming.

Broken Toys

Prologue - Halloween

Halloween: (noun) The night of 31 October, the eve of All Saints' Day, often celebrated by children dressing up in frightening masks and costumes. Halloween is thought to be associated with the Celtic festival Samhain, when ghosts and spirits were believed to be abroad.

My first memory isn't the most ordinary one. I can't recall how old I was during the time that I collected it but I must have been under six years old. The memory starts with me sitting in a front of television. I think it showed news podcasted but I can't be sure. It could have been a talk show or something similar. The television showed reporters discussing about the hottest topic to this day in Gotham.

Looking back, I am sure I didn't know who they were at the time. Or at least understood. I can't remember why or what the reporters were talking about. The memory is too foggy. Only thing that is clear is the moment when I saw those two men.

Footage showed they were falling towards the ground fighting, punching each other along the way. The first man was fully dressed in black. His cape flapped in the wind like a bat. It wasn't him who my memory focuses on. It was the other, more colorful man.

He was dressed in purple suit, he had bright green hair and he wore clown makeup and biggest smile I have seen. I never forget how he laughed. I have never heard anything like it. Somehow it was threatening, ominous, scary but also gleeful and emancipated. It was a something completely new.

Of course, back then I didn't know who the men were that I was watching. I had no idea who Batman and the Joker were and are. I think my mother closed the television to protect my innocence but it was too late. Those two figures were burned to my memory from that day onwards, probably till my last day. Little did my mother, I or anyone know how the rest of my life would revolve around them whether I liked it or not. I wasn't important, I didn't matter, only those two. The clashing of opposites, the matter and the antimatter, the unstoppable force versus the immovable object, the bat and the clown, the control against chaos, the choice and the chance, Batman and the Joker.

I never told anyone how much that moment affected me. How much those contrasting philosophies have shaped me, how they made me. I can't keep it as a secret fully. I am sure those who know me really well have at least guessed some of these thoughts that constantly run through my head. But every time someone directly asks me about it I just shrug and change the subject.

Not that many people have guessed.

My parents probably guessed some of the things that were in my mind because we moved out from Gotham when I was in third grade. Or maybe not. Lot of bad stuff happened to my family in here.

I remember absolutely hating moving. It was so sudden. We left in middle of the semester and I was forced to leave all my friends behind. Say what you want about the safety of the city but when you live there, you become proud of it. You have survived there, you know its streets and allies and you are part of it. It becomes more than a city. It lives, it breathes and it has a spirit, soul and a rhythm. And I fit just that rhythm. I know it as well as I know my own heartbeat. I've never felt home anywhere else than in Gotham.

It wasn't surprising that I moved back to the city when I turned sixteen. I explained to my parents that it was necessary to my studies, that Gotham's high school had just the right courses, that I wanted to become psychiatrist. I was lying of course but I was allowed to move, lie on my own. How well that turned out.

"Rebecca Robinson, please come in." A bored feminine voice called. Impatiently I stood up. I had been waiting for ten minutes in the school counselor's lobby, considering ditching the meeting that I was forced to go. Only company that I had was the sound of rain drops taping the window. It was a common sound in Gotham.

"Sit down, please." My school's student counselor said waving towards the chair in front of her wooden desk. The office was small, stuffy and smelled bad. Everything was mustard colored, the walls, the desk, the curtains and the binders. Even the student counselor was wearing a mustard colored scarf.

She was pretty young, in her early thirties and from the looks of it she was very far in her pregnancy. It caused me to wonder why she was still working and not taking days off but I decided not to ask. I guessed I didn't care enough and disliked small talk.

She waited patiently that I sat down and only then began talking. "Miss Robinson, this is the third time that you are send here by the principal's orders. You only started in this school couple months ago. I know you are a smart girl. You can do better than this, surely."

Surprisingly enough I liked my school counselor. I regret that I never bothered to learn her name. "Why am I here and not in detention or at school therapist instead?" Or where ever the school desired to throw its problem students.

"Because we are trying to guide your interests and talents into something useful." Her voice was tired. She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. I knew it to be one of her nervous ticks. I got a feeling that she was more worried about me and my future than I myself was.

"Is this another dress code issue again? I asked if colored hair was against the rules but there was absolutely nothing against green hair." I was right but it didn't matter. The teachers and some of the students gave me nasty glares never the less. Green hair was unspoken rule in Gotham. Most of those who had green hair were either Joker's gang members slash fanatics or wannabes. I was part of the second category trying to climb to the first one.

"No this is not about the dress code. This is about your studying habits or rather lack thereof. Your grades are practically free falling and if you skip anymore classes you will get expelled." She looked me heavily. "Rebecca, answer me honestly."

Using my first name peaked my interest. I refused to give her satisfaction by speaking so instead I nodded slightly.

"Are you part of some gang activity?"

I nearly burst out laughing but managed to keep my cool. "No." I answered too quickly. If you wanted to get technical about it, I was telling the truth. I wasn't part of any gang but the people that I was hanging out with… we had a little thing going on. We were united by our idealization of the Joker and our constant need to try to impress him. He hadn't noticed us of course and we weren't doing any serious damage to anyone. We just had little fun. There is nothing wrong with that, right?

The school counselor laid a piercing glaze at me for a long time. Finally she spoke again. I got a feeling that she didn't believe me. "Fine. I hope that you are telling the truth for your own sake. The crowd you are spending time with aren't that honest. I hope that you understand what you are in for."

"What do you mean? They are just different from your regular student." I said playing the innocent. Of course I knew I was full of lies but I was having way too much fun to stop and think about my actions.

Second time my life changed happened shortly after that conversation. That time is more complicated than hazy memory of watching television. It is hard to pin point where it started and where it ended. Or has it still ended.

It took me a long time to realize my mistakes. I had to trace my steps back to see where exactly I made the fatal step. I have course corrected sense but I feel like I am still slipping. Ready to crash down and burn for the one last time.

Despite my experiences or perhaps because of them I managed to change my path which is a lot better than most of my associates. They are either dead, in prison or worse.

Maybe I belong to the worse category after all. I have scars, both physical and mental, just like most people. But unlike most people my scars include criminal record, sometime in an asylum and punch of really bad tattoos. Many of us make some stupid decisions in their teenage years but I took that to eleven. Go big or go home, I guess.

I could blame many people of my current state. And believe me, I have. My parents, my friends, him. But I can't fully blame any of them. It was I who made those decisions. They may have done the actions but I willingly walked into them.

Maybe the scars thought me some valuable lesson. I haven't figured out what that lesson is but I've been told it is there.

I look outside my window. The night is dark but the street is busy lighting the way. Steady sound of the rain is mixed to engines running. It is always raining in Gotham. Even when the sun is shining pollution clouds cover most of the precious sunlight keeping the city always bit mysterious and scary looking. It is an old city full of gargoyles, gothic buildings and other stuff from the horror novels. It is fitting that today is Halloween.

This may be the first quiet Halloween that Gotham has seen in years. Crime has gone all time low for the first time ever since Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot. This has caused numerous people, most of whom don't have any real idea what they are talking about, to speculate why the super criminals that Gotham is so famous for seem to have disappeared to thin air.

Most want to believe it is because of Batman. That he finally scared the living hell away from his rogue gallery. Some insist it is because of him, the Joker. He died last year. The city has started calling it the Arkham City incident. More pessimistic or perhaps realistic say this is only the calm before the storm. That soon the rogues will return and hit hard on Gotham. But nothing has happened yet. Slowly more and more people say that finally the madness is over. It has been almost a year after all.

I don't think this eerie calm is because of Batman. He is too different. The Joker's death changed him. He has been more aggressive despite the lowering crime rate, more creature of the night than a hero. Arkham City changed all of Gotham but him it changed the most.

I have a feeling the answer isn't the Joker either. It just doesn't make sense. According to common sense crime should blow up after he died. No more clown prince of crime to keep everyone on their toes, to rule the underworld. No more anyone to hold rest of the rogues back. Well, Batman tries of course but his presence never stopped the lunatics before. Logic said that the Joker's death should create a power vacuum causing a war amongst all those who tried to become next unofficial king of Gotham. But this hadn't happened yet.

Only reason left was that nothing has happened because all of the important rogues were planning something big. Something so massive that they needed time to release their chaos on Gotham. Something that would destroy us the whole city.

I shake that idea out of my head. I don't need any more scary stories to keep me up at night. What I need is to keep myself distracted from my own demons.

I look at the clock. I realize that I am almost late from work. My boss probably hates me already so I don't want to give him anymore reasons to kick me out.

I snatch my leather jacket and my sneakers. I stop to look myself in the mirror before heading out. Empty emerald green eyes stare back at me. I try not to look at the faded scars on my cheeks or the tattoos that I have covered with makeup. I look like a mess but I try to ignore that and pull my hood up. I step out of my apartment closing the door behind me. There is no elevator in my building so I walk the stairs down to the street level.

The rain hits me immediately when I step outside. The neon lights from commercials and street signs light my way along with the car lights that are driving past me. Small children are out trick or treating with their parents. Couple kids ran past me. They are dressed as Green Lantern and Wonder Woman.

Superheroes have become a nationwide phenomenon. Different heroes' faces appear from lunch boxes to magazine covers to newspaper headlines. I've seen everything from t-shirts to movie deals. This has inspired new heroes to pop up on every city. Some have superpowers such as Superman and the Flash but some seem to be just very dangerous humans like Green Arrow and Nightwing.

Today's newspaper lies on the street. The ink is smudged but the text is still readable. I pick the paper from the ground and read the headlines while I walk. Poison Ivy has escaped, Batman v Superman canceled, One-year anniversary of the Joker's death coming up, James Gordon may be running for mayor, The truth behind Jack Ryder capturing Deadshot… Gotham Gazette must be having a party. Finally something has happened.

I open the first page and see a fat article about Harley Quinn breaking Poison Ivy out of Blüdhaven's police station. Not only one but two major villains have been spotted active outside of Gotham without being caught. Media must love these kind of situations. I bet tomorrow's paper will tell in detail how Blüdhaven's cops fucked up and how they could have prevented the escape.

I throw the paper back to the street. It doesn't have anything that I couldn't read online in it. The truth behind Jack Ryder capturing Deadshot? Who seriously believed that shit in the first place?

I am so deep in my thoughts that I accidentally bump into someone.

"Sorry." I mumble trying to avoid eye contact. I notice the man being tall and muscular. This brings memories to my mind and suddenly my instincts scream to me ordering me to leave and run. I squeeze my hands into small fists before looking up at the man's face. "Do I know you?"

I am not sure if the man even notices me. He puts his finger to his ear and I realize he is listening his earpiece.

With this moment panicked screaming start. I look for the source and see that on the other side of the road Paul's diner, my work place, has turned into apocalyptic zone. Everyone seems to be yelling and crying and I hear gun shots.

"What the hell…" Escapes from my mouth. The man who I bumped to notices me and I feel something cold against my torso. I look down and see barrel of a gun.

"One wrong move and you are dead." The man says on a low voice.

I seem to lose the ability to produce sound. My palms are sweaty and my heartbeat picks up. This isn't the first time when someone is pointing a gun at me but stuff like this doesn't get easier over time. I open and close my mouth like a gold fish until I finally manage to collect all of my strength to nod. Where are all the numerous superheroes when I need them now, huh?

"Walk with me." The man says. He keeps pointing the gun at me so I walk on his right side away from the diner. We appear to be invisible to the rest of the world. I can't even hear the cries from the diner anymore.

We arrive to a dark alley. The man crushes me against a wall. I hit my head but bite my tongue to keep quiet. One wrong move and he will shoot me.

"Any sound you'll make will be your last one. Got it?" He growls to me. I nod silently trying to figure a way out but my brains seem to go blank.

The man pushes me towards a car. From the looks of it the car was planted here to wait for him. He opens the trunk and looks at me. I stand there like an idiot causing him to anger. "What are you waiting for? Get in there."

Seeing no other options I climb into the trunk. He waits until I am laying on my side before locking me in. I hear how the motor starts running and feel how the car starts to move.

"Who is she? And why she is with you?" Asks another man. He must be the driver who waited for the original man.

"She may have saw something. Couldn't risk it." My kidnapper retorts.

"Dude! Why didn't you kill her?" The driver asks.

"In middle of the street? Right in front of the target? That sounds like a good idea. Why didn't I think of that?" The kidnapper says on a sarcastic tone.

"Whatever man. Knight is gonna be so pissed." The first voice worries.

"Not if the plan has started." My kidnapper says. He doesn't seem to be sure despite his words.

This must be universe getting its revenge on me for imagining a nice, quiet and peaceful Halloween. Like that ever happens in Gotham. Instead of having a shitty day at work I am in some trunk going to who knows where with most-likely-criminals talking about knights and heaven knows what. Just my typical luck.

A/N: As I said I didn't plan to write this but its just came to me out of the blue. Rebecca is very different character that I am used to write so this is an experiment to me. Genre is also very unusual for me since I've never really written anything even remotely connected to romance. Maybe I'll finish this, maybe I won't Review would be helpful and appreciated.

UPDATE: I am currently rewriting all the chapters and connecting mistakes that bug me. Minor changes to the story are possible but they will be just details.