OMG, so sorry for the overdo update. I actually finished and posted this chapter up somewhere else in early June, but only recently had a chance to send it to my beta cuz I've been crazy busy. My car of 4 years decided to die when I was on the highway on my way to work with my mother in the car as well. And when I mean die, I mean it doesn't run anymore. Engine's shot, and the price of getting a new one is about the same as getting a new used car. So, since it was a major gas guzzler anyway I decided to go with the latter. But before I could find one I really had no way to get to my 3 jobs and then to top it all off, I got the swine flu. Yay. BUT I'm better now and I got another car and my one seasonal job is quickly coming to a close, which means I'll have more time to update on this and other of my stories! So yay!! Hope you haven't thought I lost interest, cuz I haven't. Hell just stopped by and refused to leave until I threatened to lock it in the den playing episodes of "Clutch Cargo" and "Diver Dan" on a neverending loop. (God, I hate those shows B[ ) Oh, and I'm sorry I haven't commented back to some of you, but now that the skies are clearing I'm going to try and do that ^w^. Enjoy.

((WARNING: Everyone whose read this series so far, I've got to tell you that this chappy is a lot darker near the end. In fact, you probably won't even like it...but, there's more chappys ahead, so, hope you don't hate me and just stick with it, hehe?? Also, I finished this at like 5 in the morning, so I'm really sorry if it sucks. If you notice anything a little weird that needs to be fixed, just lemme know, okay? Oh, and the first part of this chappy I just made up recently. It wasn't in the original idea, but I thought I'd try and make it enjoyable, at least there. Comments are love!))

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The next day Joker was true to his word. He started plotting and planning various ways of how he should introduce his baby to the Batman. None of which two were ever the same but all equally dramatic in one way or another.

He eventually landed on one that had to do with Ridalin dropping down from the sky onto Batman right at the punchline.

...or was it setting up a trip wire to send ol' Batsy shooting into the sky?

Aww, doesn't matter. He would just make it up as he goes along, as usual.

Joker grabbed an assortment of random items, flood lights, nick-nack and doo-daas (including a rather nasty, rancid-looking fish that he insisted had to be there for whatever reason) into two very large duffel bags, then with Ridalin in tow, headed out into town with a skip to begin the setup for this important 'meeting'.

Everything went up with very little hassle, and all that was left for him to do was to set up the bait for the Bat to come running. Joker was bubbling with excitement he could barely sit still with anticipation for what was to come. He sat down on a rooftop, keeping himself occupied in the meantime with petting his baby and shooting at anyone who came too close to his 'trap'. Don't want it sprung too soon. Can't they see I'm working here?!

And so he waited.

But Batman never showed up that night.

To say Joker was taking this dismissal badly was like saying Edward Gein had a few problems; HUGE understatement. He was having the world's worst two-year old tantrum, going after anything and everything that appeared to be in a good mood (including a few buildings where he would go berserk on the brickwork with his knife for no other reason but for it simply being there).

"How could he do this to us, Riddy?! Doesn't he have any idea how much work I've put into this?! Just for him! Always for him! But it's never good enough!!!"

Joker paced back and forth in the middle of the street, ranting on like some housewife who was on her final straw. He waved his arms wildly in the air for emphasis on certain words. Spit was flying, and all Ridalin did was sit calmly from the sidewalk, its gaze following him back and forth with keen interest, purring.

Until it heard something from a building to its left that caught its full attention. The kitten trotted over there and watched the several types of TV screens in the window.

Joker hadn't noticed. "Well that's it. First thing tomorrow I'm going to make Batsy pay for his absence. When I'm through with him he'll never think twice about standing me up again. Come on, Riddy!"

Joker had fisted his hands till his gloves squeaked and nodded his head quickly in agreement to whatever was running in his mind. When he called for his baby he turned sharply in the direction of home and strode off.

Ridalin heard the command and knew what it had to do...but it just didn't want to leave the screens. It had a feeling it was important, but didn't know why. The kitten looked from them to its master, and eventually ended up running after the retreating purple form.

~~~Being as upset as he was Joker didn't bother to dismantle his trap. So he missed one of the mayor's right hand men--who was out on one of his many rendezvous with his usual harlot--being flung into the air and over the city getting a wonderful view of the night life, screaming like a girl the whole way.

It would go down in history as one of the most random flukes anyone ever saw.~~~

Joker didn't get any sleep that night he was so overly upset. He paced his room until morning and still refused to calm down. He made it quite clear he wished to be left alone, aside from Ridalin's presence. He eventually went out into the city to take his pumped up rage out on the citizens, knowing full well Batman would come running no matter what.

But he didn't. For the second night in a row Batman never showed up.

Nor the next night.

The Clown flayed the streets with his wrath, painting everything in red. He was fuming when it seemed nothing he did brought the Batman out of his hiding place. Where was he?! Why wouldn't he come?! How dare he do such a thing!?!

...What happened to him?

When that question fluttered into his mind, Joker's rage was mixed and then soon replaced with concern. He didn't know how to express such a feeling, so he had it fester into more violent attacks. What's become of him? Is he all right? Does he know it's all his fault in making me feel this way? Worry like this? I don't worry! It's not what I do! Bastard! How could he do this to me?! US?!

Through all three days Ridalin shared in his anger. Mirroring every action he gave with its own style and flair. Not fully understanding why they were so upset and lashing out at basically anything that did or didn't move, the kitten knew its master had good reason for doing so, and believed that this might help in some way.

Until the morning of the fourth day. When something rather curious dawned on it.

And it knew it had something to do with the man on the TVs it had been fascinated with. So when they walked by another window with TVs all over, and that man's face was plastered over everyone of them, Ridalin stopped and chittered for its master's attention.

Joker was mumbling to himself, his head filled with worst-case scenarios of what might have happened to the Bat that didn't involve himself. The pleasant cry that he had grown fond of snapped him out of his mental soliloquies. He stopped and turned to see his baby a ways back staring at him then to something in front of it. Joker barked out a 'What?!' at his own baby.

The kitten wasn't the least bit perturbed by this and instead took a few steps closer to the window. It placed its front legs on the glass, pawing at it. Then sniffed at it before turning its head towards its master and chittering with a 'come hither' meaning.

The Clown made a big show of impatience by rolling his eyes, raising his arms up a little then slapping them to his sides, and heaving out a dramatic sigh. He trudged over there for one reason only: if something interested his baby, in the long run it was worth checking out.

But how could this possibly be worth even the spit he carried? On every TV screen that he saw (and there were a lot of them so the image couldn't be missed) was Gotham's very own bachelor of the century, Bruce Wayne. Not too many sets were showing the same footage, but it was all on him and what appeared to be one subject.

Joker looked down at Ridalin to protest, for he couldn't care less about the undeniably handsome billionaire. But the kitten simply ignored him and continued to focus on the screens. Joker looked back up and began to figit. He couldn't hear what was being said and he didn't feel like wasting any energy in breaking the glass. That would set off an alarm and the sound would be too irritating to handle in his exhausted state. He hadn't slept a wink since Batman's sudden and unexpected disappearance and he wouldn't until he knew where the flying rodent was.

And if he was all right.

He conked his forehead on the clear surface and started to read sluggishly the subtitles from one of the monitors. What he read didn't register in his brain right away, so he missed the main details. It also scrolled too fast for him to pick up a coherent story. But one thing in particular seemed to nag at his brain.

What he pieced together was this: four days ago the snarky Wayne heir had to go off to the ends of the earth somewhere to settle something nobody cares about and had caught some flu bug of a funny name and has been bed-ridden ever since.

Four days ago.

Four days...three.

Batman hasn't shown up for three nights.

Joker's eyes widened. He lifted his head off the glass (which now had an odd imprint to its surface) as that fact settled and ran through his head over and over again.

Ridalin looked up at him as if hearing the gears slowly turning. Things started clicking into place as loose ends came to a close. Random blips of harmless suspicions and telephone whispers now were more truthful than facts. Outlandish remarks began to have an eerie coherency. A hundred and one telltale hints started to form into a solid entity. Humorous jokes on the subject weren't funny anymore.

The perfect alter ego during the day to divert too curious of eyes, being able to afford all those nifty gadgets and wicked cars, being able to hide from the world when needing to in some supped up cave...

The light bulb flickered on. Followed by a loud ding, and suddenly everything crashed down into perfect sense, making the world spin into a thousand voices screaming the same answer all at once.

The madman gasped and pushed himself roughly away from the window as if it had burned him, taking several clumsy steps back. He stared, and couldn't stop staring at that face, the many poses, the plastic smile, the normal frivolous ways...

Those liquid dark eyes.

"No." It came out soft, and the Clown wasn't even aware he had said it at all.

No it, it can't be. It just...can't. Not him, dammit! Of all people! I just--no. It's not. I won't believe it. Not my Batman. Just stop it. Never. It's not true. All a lie. Simply impossible. Just stop!

His heart was racing as the world shifted. Too much at once. Gloved hands pulled at greasy green locks, eyes closed so tightly it hurt. He had to calm down. He didn't know for sure, it was just an assumption. I'm jumping too soon. That's it. Just a coincidence. Mustn't jump to conclusions. No actual proof, can't judge from a stupid television set. They'll make you believe anything. So easy to manipulate the things you see on there. Must relax. Breathe. Just shut up!

The swirling laughter and cries that were mocking him of his stubborn inability to see it for what it was silenced immediately by one, simple chitter at the side of his head. He became aware of a weight on his shoulders followed by a tender nuzzle to his cheek and sandpaper licks. A soothing motor rung into his ear and vibrated down through his body. He lowered his hands lazily to his sides with a sigh as tension and confused, misplaced anger seemed to float up and out of his body to whatever was resting across his shoulders. He leaned his head back against the warm body and rubbed his hair gently against it. When a sort of calmness he hadn't felt in days washed over him, the Clown unclosed his eyes and stared into the comforting green ones of his baby.

"Hmm, thanks." He smiled and massaged at the base of one of Ridalin's ears. The kitten closed its eyes and gave its master several love nibbles on his jaw and ear. Joker took his other hand and scratched the end of Ridalin's back which rose up for more contact. Heh, now I remember why I named you 'Ridalin.' It suits you.

When his baby began to kneed the area just below his collarbone, Joker's refreshingly cleared mind went back to the subject at hand: Bruce Wayne.

What was he going to do about this?

He needed to make absolutely sure that his conclusion was correct. After all, this was the Bat he was talking about. No stone must be left unturned. He was too curious now not to follow through. So he made a decision;

He and his baby were going to pay the pretty billionaire a visit.

Right now.

So, with Ridalin riding atop his shoulders, Joker made his merry way to the penthouse.

But when he got there, it seemed to be abandoned. Since he never followed the young heir's life on the news before, he never got the update that the Wayne Manor had finished being rebuilt, and he and his loyal butler relocated back there.

Joker knew the city better than anyone, but on the outskirts he rarely traveled. So trying to find the house on his own was near impossible. Thankfully the madman was very persuasive when it came to getting information. And after 3 destroyed minds later, they arrived at the gate of Gotham's most beautiful estate.

Joker figured the place would be big, but he never expected this. He gripped the iron bars that kept him out and gaped at the sheer size of it. "So this is the neeew version. I wonder what it looked like in flames." An odd manic look overtook the Clown's features as his thoughts were filled with fire. Maybe I'll have to try it myself someday...

His pleasant thoughts of destruction were interrupted by a whirring sound which he quickly discovered were the roving cameras that were strategically placed to be able to scan the entire grounds. Joker felt himself shiver with excitement. "Ohh Riddy! Even if it turns out that Mister 'Look-at-me-I'm-rich-and-boring' isn't the Bat, this is going to be fun anyway!" He bounced up and down, giggling like a child outside the amusement park. Joker looked around at how he was going to get in short of climbing, when he decided to try pushing the front gate open just to see if that would work.

He laughed hard when it did. "All these expensive cameras everywhere and most likely some highly skilled guard dogs on hand, and they don't even remember to lock the front entrance! Oh, I think our dear Brucey is slipping Riddy!"

Joker crouched low and slipped under the radar of one of the cameras. He held his hand up and waited for the lens to start moving in the other direction. The second it did he yelled to his baby and the two of them dashed across the lawn. He flopped behind a decorative but pointless bush near the front door and tried to keep himself under control. Joker scanned the house and saw a window close by that was cracked open just enough to fit a small animal through. He peeked to make sure the coast was clear then gestured to Ridalin his intentions. He clapped his hands together and the kitten jumped up into his arms. He then quickly lifted his baby to the sill and it slipped through seamlessly.

One in, one more to go.

Joker had to sum up every bit of restraint he had to not just waltz in through the front door. They would certainly never expect it. But the Clown had no intention of wanting to be caught. Today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today.

He searched quickly for another way in that would be able to fit him, and found his lucky break. A window had been strung open two stories up. It seemed like a reasonably easy climb for him when all he had to do was monkey-climb up the drainpipe and swing in. His heart was racing at the thrill of being caught as he watched for the surveillance to be pointing in any direction but where he was. Joker held his breath and dashed past the front door and moved to his destination.

He leaped at the pipe and scrambled as fast as he could up to the open windowsill. But suddenly he couldn't move. He tugged and looked down at what was holding him. The edge of his coat was caught on a loose nail. He growled in frustration when he couldn't get it free and the cameras were starting to rove back in his direction. Without thinking he shrugged out of it and continued his pursuit as the purple fabric fell with a thud to the ground. He was more than certain a camera clearly caught him flipping himself over the side and landing hard on his back. Sudden blindness kicked in, as he resented not grabbing at least two of his odd-number of knives he kept in his pockets of his coat, which now rested in a clump on the grass.

Joker got up and brushed himself off, giggling at how easy it was. He turned around to see where he ended up,which appeared to be a bedroom. An exceptionally lavish bedroom. But Joker's attention was drawn to the four poster bed that was against a wall. A soft grumbling sound was emanating from the middle of it.

Something was in the bed.

Or more correctly, someone.

Joker silently tiptoed his way to the side of the bed and when he was close enough, peered over to get a better look at the shadow-covered form.

Sleeping peacefully with a barely audible snore was the billionaire himself.

Even from how shaded he was Joker could see that the young man was ailing. His brow was knitted together and every once in a while a twitch would form at the corner of one eye. Dark circles surrounded his closed eyes and the beginnings of facial hair were becoming more prominent. Even with all these little details the man was still incredibly attractive.

Joker leaned in closer to the young man and concentrated on the shape and detail of the lower half of his face. He raised one hand up and--without touching--placed it over the eyes and nose. Joker's eyes widened at how similar it was. Dare he say, uncanny? He let out a shaky breath that ghosted over the playboy's features. "No, it...it can't be." He whispered. He raised both hands up to Bruce's eyes and touched his index fingers and thumbs together to form circles. All the other fingers he pointed straight out like horns. Joker then shifted himself until his upper body was hovering above the sleeping figure. He raised his hands to the young man's face like a mask, and...

Oh my god... His heart skipped a beat. "Batsy?"

As if on cue, a loud crash, followed by a screech from a cat and shouts from an older man rang into the room. Joker whipped his head to the bedroom door and stared, knowing full well what was going on. Ridalin had been caught. He sat very still as he heard it all again.

Joker saw a large form move out of the corner of his eye and face the door. Joker's face slackened as he turned his head at the same time the thing next to him did, and stared face to face with an equally surprised Bruce Wayne.

A whole beat went by in silence.

"Uh, hi?" Joker cracked a side smile and waved lazily as he watched with fascination the billionaire's facial expressions change from first surprise, then extreme anger, which was quickly replaced with a less believable sow of fear.

Another, more awkward beat went by, then---

"AHHHHHH!"

Both men screamed in each other's faces at the same time. Joker did it thinking it would be funny, knowing the other was going to do something like that in return.

Bruce shot both his arms out and grabbed hold of the unwanted clown and tried to pull him down onto the bed. Joker reached one arm behind him for something to grab hold of (which was a lamp) and smashed it down hard onto the bigger man's head. Bruce grunted in pain and immediately released his grip on the Joker to cradle his head. They both quickly recovered, but the madman was faster. He wriggled out of reach and ran toward the door, throwing it open with a bang and running full speed down the hall.

He hadn't the foggiest idea where he was going, but was having so much fun he didn't seem to care. All he knew at the moment was to find his baby and hightail it out of there.

When he heard another shout and yowling coming from somewhere beneath him, Joker focused on it and followed it until he came to a stairwell. He swung one leg over the polished railing and slid down to the end, hopping off at the last part and taking a few steps to the door then stopping to turn around. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a glass shattering whistle. Another thunderous crash later and Ridalin darted out one room and ran at its master, being closely followed by an elderly man wielding a broom looking none too pleased. When he caught sight of who was in front of him he halted, a shocked look on his face.

Joker ran the rest of the way to the door and flung it open. Ridalin shot out like a bullet through his legs. When he himself stepped out and turned around, he had enough time to see a very withered, extremely angry Bruce Wayne fly down the stairs three at a time before he gave a semi-salute and a joyous 'bye!' then slammed the door shut.

The Clown cackled across the lawn, not caring about the cameras anymore. But then he skidded to a halt when he remembered he had left his coat outside the window. He turned to run back but changed his mind when the screeching of an alarm rang through the air. Of course they'd spring an alarm! Batman wouldn't spring an alarm, but he's not quite Batman now, is he?

"NEVERMIND! KEEP THE COAT, IT'S YOURS!" Joker shouted while running back to the first entrance. It seemed like he was home free, when he noticed the iron gates were closing. Ridalin just made it through, then stopped and turned around, waiting for him with wide eyes. It let out a chitter when the gates clanged together. Joker was locked in.

If he was aware of this new problem, he sure as hell didn't show it. With an air of 'Gate? What gate?' he took a running leap at the bars and crawled up to the top then flipped himself over to the other side with ease. When he hit the ground he got up as fast as he could and ran shrieking with laughter all the way back home with Ridalin beside him.

His lackeys had been acutely aware of their boss' recent bad mood, so they had been holding up on the other side of the building to give their boss as much space and time alone that would be safe. But still within hearing distance in case he called for them. The worst thing they could do when he's in black moods like this is completely ignore him when he calls. That would be just asking for a sure reason to have him kill them. So they stayed there, watching TV and drinking beer.

And Joker was just fine with that. He didn't want to be bothered by their presence anyway. When he got home he went straight to his room and flopped on his bed with Ridalin resting on top of his chest. He couldn't stop laughing at the sheer thrill of the event. It wasn't quite what he expected, but oh how he missed this adrenaline rush that he only got when facing the Batman.

"Oh, Riddy! That has got to be the most fun I've had all week!" He said while scratching his baby's back. Ridalin purred in response to it. "Now not only do I have him during the night, but I get to visit him during his day job, as well! So big shot Brucey is my Dark Knight! That certainly changes things between us, a little...going to have to redo my schedule to add him in there now."

Joker's breathing was coming back to normal, and as he began to get more relaxed, the lack of sleep was finally taking its toll on him. "Weellll, that was sooo much fun, I think I'm going to do it again tomorrow! And the next day, and the next day, and the next..day....*yawn* and the...next..."

Joker passed out from this new ordeal and slipped into a rather heavy slumber. Ridalin curled up into a ball and slept almost as soundly.

Until that intruder woke it up to full alertness.

He had been watching the place all day. Waiting for him to return. He knew he would, it would just be a matter of time. Even if he didn't show up til days later, he'd wait for him. What else was he to do? After what happened, his only thoughts were consumed with destroying the clown.

And he would get his revenge for what he and that stupid cat did to him.

By all intents and purposes he should be dead. That's what the doctors told him when he woke up in the hospital room. But he refused to back down, to give up so easily. He survived whatever they gave him by pure willpower fueled by hatred, and nothing else.

He was only going to do it for the money. It was suppose to be so simple. What the hell happened? He can't even remember the attack fully, just the clown's face right before the excruciating pain overpowered all other senses. The next thing he remembered was pain, again. But now he's lying on the ground. Thought he had died, but somehow made it through. He remembers using all the energy he had left dragging his mutilated body through the filth-infested streets.

Someone found him, someone of better character, and took him to the hospital. Then he can't remember anything besides the bright light which he shied away from every chance he got.

When he finally awoke, he had his whole face and body wrapped up like a mummy. He couldn't remember who he was. All he knew was the pain, and an unforgivable laugh.

He ripped the bandages off to see what had happened, and his soul never stopped screaming. What stared back at him from the hospital supplied mirror wasn't a face. It wasn't human, he didn't know what it was. But he knew it shouldn't have been. Wasn't always like this. Most of the upper lip gone, along with the nose, part of the jawbone, and an eyeball.

He never looked at the other parts of his body that had been deformed.

He doesn't remember much after that, except the burning image of that god forsaken painted face being the motivation for him to get out of the hospital somehow. He doesn't know what he did, but all he knew was that he got out, and now he needed to find the one who did this to him and make him pay with his life.

It wasn't too hard to get people to tell him what he wanted to know. They were so scared of his appearance and what he would do to them if they said no, that it only took about a day to find the right location and put his plan into action.

He had gone out and bought gallons and gallons of gasoline. Yes, there was no escape for him this time.

So he waited. And was eventually rewarded for his patience when the Clown Prince himself returned home, happy as can be without a care in the world.

And that animal was with him too. Perfect.

He waited fifteen minutes, and then made his way over. A gas can in each hand. He left his gun in his pocket, in case there was trouble in having someone try and stop him.

But no one did. The guy guarding the door was easy to take out. He did it without so much as a yelp. After that he was surprised just how simple they were all making it for him. When it seemed no one was around to interfere, he started the first step of his plan.

But first, he found the bastard's room.

When he peeked in he saw him fast asleep with the beast lying on top of him. How vulnerable he looked. So tempting...so incredible was the drive to just barge in there and strangle him with his bare hands, or plant a bullet in his brain. But he suppressed the urge masterfully, and closed the door without a sound.

He took one can and emptied it at the far end of the hallway. Then taking the other to the opposite side of the building and dumping it all generously there as well. He went back outside and grabbed two more and did the same in various places with them. Then went back out and grabbed the last two cans to vigorously dump them everywhere he had missed the last four times, including outside the Clown's door. The place wreaked of gasoline, but he didn't care. The building and everything in it was soaked. There was no getting out of here.

He was finishing up the contents of the second to the last canisters, when he heard a feral growl behind him. He turned around and was greeted by the sight of the four legged beast itself. The Clown's prized possession.

Its back was arched and the fur was standing on end. It let out a yowling growl everytime he was going to move. But he prepared for this unholy monster this time. He slowly reached into his pocket of his shredded windbreaker and pulled out a pair of fireproof gloves. Slipping them on carefully, he stalked closer to the animal just as it lunged at him.

This time he caught it. It went berserk in his hands, and failed in his attempts to break its neck. It was making too much noise, and he didn't want his main target to wake up. So he threw the beast into a closet and locked the door. He heard it spitting and yowling, but now it was muffled. Didn't matter.

He hurriedly carried the last can to the stairs and dumped down to the main door. He threw the can outside and took out a matchbox, and one single match. He did his very best at giving it a kiss, then struck it alive.

Without another word, he threw it down and instantly a fiery trail blazed all the way upstairs. He closed the door, walked down the steps, tying a scarf around his face and headed home.

Joker had strange dreams. And considering he never remembers them, this was weird to him. They were vivid, and in them involved his baby crying out for him...but he couldn't find it. He ran calling its name as the air grew hotter, and heavier. A roaring sound grew louder each time he called out. His legs were so heavy as he tried to run. Heart beating fast enough he thought it would burst. Someone calling out to him now, but they seem so far away...Ridalin...where was Ridal---

"Boss! Wake up now! We gotta get out of here!"

"Huh? Wh-what?" Joker felt hands shaking him awake from that most unusual dream. He started to cough as he opened his eyes. The room was thick with a black smoke that seemed to suck all the air away. The smell was so familiar, why couldn't he place it? His mind was still too groggy from sleep to fully understand what was happening, and who was man-handling him on his feet. His eyes burned as he tried to focus on the person in front of him.

It was Thomas Schiff, and his face was as white as a sheet. He coughed out the next word the best he could. But Joker snapped fully awake when 'fire' was brought up.

"Ridalin, come on!" He commanded as he pushed past Schiff and into the main entryway. The heat was explosive. He heard his other men shouting to one another to get out and Joker ordered them to forget the money they had stored away and just get out.

Once outside Joker took a lung full of fresh air, and coughed it all out. He turned to face the building, wondering what the hell happened that caused this in the first place. His first though was that one of his brain dead lackeys had dropped a lit cigarette, but that wouldn't constitute for the overwhelming smell of gasoline that hung in the air. As the last of his henchmen poured out onto the streets they turned to watch their home burn. Some of them were tending to the wounded.

But Joker's mind was on other things. He watched the flames grow out of control, when a flash from his dream came over him. He looked down at his feet. He scanned in every direction around him. He pushed his men aside calling out his baby's name, when he felt a streak of dread course through his blood. He looked back up to the building just as one of the windows exploded.

His face dropped. He stared at the insane fire reaching out the open windowsill, and panic shot into his heart. "No." He whispered breathlessly. The second time that day he wished something wasn't true.

He didn't think about his actions, he just moved. Joker ran back towards the building but was interrupted from going any further by the ever grasping Schiff.

"No Sir! You can't go back in there! I won't let you!" Thomas grabbed his boss' waist and held on as tightly as he could, for fear of losing him. But Joker wasn't going to have it. His baby was still in there, and nothing was going to keep him from going back in. Nothing.

Joker reached down and twisted both of Schiff's wrists, making one crack. The schizophrenic cried out in pain and slipped to his knees. He looked up just as the Joker ran back inside. He screamed and tried to go after him but others held him back and said there was nothing they could do now and it would be suicidal to go back in there.

Joker could feel the flames lick at him as he brushed passed them on the staircase. He cried out Ridalin's name over and over again. He lifted his hands up over his face as he got to the main level. It was impossible to breathe up here, let alone see anything. His eyes watered and he felt himself break out in a sweat. The heat was bombarding him like a punch to the gut, gasping for air that wasn't there. Only he wasn't enjoying this. Nothing mattered but his baby. Where was he?!

"Ridalin!! Where are you baby?! Riddy!" It was so hard to speak when there wasn't any air to refill on. Joker kept one hand in front of his face and moved the other to his throat, trying to loosen his tie and undo a few buttons. The flames grew hungry around him, roaring closer and closer until he thought he might lose it.

Then he heard it. That chitter that belonged to no one else but his baby. His face lit up with excitement at the ever welcome sound. Riddy?! Come on baby, cry again for me!" There it was again. It was muffled, but definitely louder than the first one. He was getting closer, but he just didn't know where it was coming from. He could see anything and had to feel for the wall in order to keep going. It was so frustrating!

The kitten cried again, then again. Finally Joker was able to pinpoint its location...but, why it was coming from there he didn't know why. He placed both hands on the door. "Ridalin? Can you hear me? I'm here! Don't worry, momma's here!" Joker reached for the doorknob and hissed back in pain. It was white hot, and Joker cursed at himself for taking his gloves off. But he wasn't done yet. The cries coming from the other side of the door were tearing his soul apart.

"Riddy! Move away from the door, you understand me?! Move away from the door, I'm kicking it in!" Joker took a step back and planted his foot squarely by the lock. The door busted open and a blanket of thick black smoke rushed its way out of the room. Joker waved it away and saw his baby curled up in a ball at the other end of the closet, terrified. It brightened up when it saw its master's face, and when Joker clapped his hands Ridalin ran at him and jumped into his arms. The kitten wrapped its monkey arms around Joker's throat and dug its nails in. Joker held his baby tightly against his body and kissed its face.

He began to make his way back to the staircase blindly. The air was worse than ever and the lack of oxygen plus the extreme heat nearly made him pass out a couple of times. His coughing was worse, but he didn't care. He had his baby, and that's all that mattered.

He made his way back to the staircase, but was forced to move back as a giant firewall engulfed that whole area. He hugged Ridalin tighter to his body as his panic started picking back up again. He felt light headed and had to close his eyes just for a moment to try and clear his mind for alternatives.

Then he remembered the busted window.

Joker looked hopefully to it as their only escape. But, as the fates have a cruel way of giving and taking things away, so was the same for this. For just when he took no more than two steps towards it, he heard the most ominous sounds right above his head.

Joker looked up and saw the ceiling was caving in. As all hope sank, as his legs refused to budge, he took one last ditched effort for his baby's survival and pulled it away from himself as it cried out in protest. Ridalin tried desperately to cling back onto him, but it's master moved first. Joker threw Ridalin safely towards the open window just as the ceiling collapsed on top of him.

Joker was slowly coming back to the waking world when he felt a sharp pain in his hand. When he gathered enough strength, he opened his eyes to see Ridalin biting on his fingers to wake him up. He was lying flat on the floor and when he tried to get up he found he could not move. He couldn't feel his legs at all, and from the amount of pain that was screaming from his upper back and nothing from below, he was pretty sure he broke it. The fallen debris had pinned him so thoroughly to the ground he could barely wiggle. When he tried to move his left arm he groaned in agony. He couldn't see it, but from the smell of blood that was radiating off of himself he pieced together that his arm was impaled on something.

At the moan Ridalin perked its head up and moved close to his face, chittering. Instead of getting out and escaping through the window like its master planned, the kitten came back in and tried everything it could to wake him up.

"No...you stupid cat..." Joker tried to push his baby away, to aim it back towards the window, but he was too weak and exhausted to do more than nudge it. "You have to get out...Go on...baby.."

The kitten fought against every desperate attempt to get rid of it. It knew from experience that its master had lost too much blood and wasn't going to make it if he couldn't get out now. But the human was too weak, and the kitten wasn't any better.

More debris kept falling on top of him, with some of them getting dangerously close to his baby. He could see his kitten could barely stay awake, and was only doing so for him. He made a sound that was in between a laugh and a cry. He didn't know which he meant to do, because he felt like both.

Laugh because he got the joke. He goes in to save his baby,--a good deed no less--only to have failed miserably and now they will both perish. Because it loves him, and refuses to leave him for safety. He felt the same way when he went back in to get his baby in the first place. And the only hero in this city who could change the outcome to this is sick with some stupid flu. And he finally learned his secret identity, and can never play with him about that again. It was all terribly funny.

Cry, because he didn't want it to end like this. Not with him dying in a fire in which he didn't cause and didn't know how it got there. Not with the one damn thing he cares more than himself for is dying because it loves him. Not with never being able to tell the other damn thing he loves more than himself where he is and how he really feels. Especially now with learning so much more about him....it was all terribly unfair.

He feels himself slipping again, his vision blurring. Sweat and blood pouring down him in waves, exiting his body freely.

This is it. The final curtain.

Oh, how he wishes it could've been different, but, oh well.

"Rid...I..l-lo..." I love you, Ridalin. I'm sorry.

I love you Batsy. Don't you dare forget me.

Back into the dark void he silently slips off to.

Ridalin's heart ached. Its master had stopped moving. The kitten went back to chewing on the fingers to wake him back up, but nothing happens this time.

He just lays there, still.

Ridalin cries out to him softly. Its so tired.

Its master sleeps, then it will sleep. Wherever he goes, the baby follows. It can't live without him.

On shaky limbs it crouches low, moving closer to the bigger body. It weasels its way under the debris and nudges its head under the arm. The Clown's baby manages to worm its way completely under its master's limp arm and cuddle in close to the chest. Ridalin curls its body toward the other and buries its head into the other.

Time to sleep.

The fire rages on, its fury created for revenge. The flames dance and rip apart the building, roaring higher at its almighty triumph.

Wood falling into loud clumps on top of each other. Electric devices spark. Plastic melts into other materials and transforms into a horrific blob.

Its power knows no bounds. A thunderous clap emanates from it like a evil laugh. A laugh that knows it has won.

Its two hostages it will never give up to anyone, and it dares the soul brave enough to fight it for them.

Will anyone come?

No answer.