A Social Experiment

"Sybil? Jesus Christ, Sybil, what happened to you?"

Good question.

Apparently I'd been more or less declared dead the day after the MCU exploded. I had disappeared, after all. The police had been working under the assumption that my body would turn up under the rubble of the destroyed building at any time. Now, my status had been changed. I was the victim of kidnapping and… and rape.

I wish it had been rape. I wish that I'd been forced and that the things the Joker had done to my body repulsed me. But you can't rape the willing. I had been willing and active. If anyone got a look at the Joker's back soon then they'd discover several scabbing, vivid lines to prove just how active I'd been.

I knew how I looked. I'd passed a few reflective surfaces since my night with the Joker. My hair was a snarled mess, there were several dark marks on my neck, bruises on my arms and places other people couldn't see, and my mouth looked ripped and tattered. It actually hurt to talk, depending on how I had to shape my lips in order to say the words. Of course that pain was nothing compared to the one between my thighs. I was dead certain that the words 'vaginal tearing' were going to be in my future.

So what did I say when Jim Gordon walked into his new office to find me curled up on one of his chairs? Nothing. I didn't say a word. One look at his concerned but exhausted face after hours of clown paint, black leather and SWAT uniforms set me off. I started crying. Hard.

What happened to me?

---

I had faded in and out of consciousness for hours before finally opening my eyes and assessing my surroundings. There was artificial light leaking through the walls, something like streetlamps and city lights. I was on the floor of what looked like an unfinished room, wrapped up in a cheap motel sheet. Being born rich had made me especially attuned to the quality of sheets and this was not a good sheet. I stared dimly at the fabric, apparently the only cover I had. My brain began to make sense of the rust-colored stains on it. Blood. My blood.

High-pitched, hysterical laughter pounded in my head as the sight of blood triggered a thousand different memories, none of which belonged to me. The feel of blood on my hands, the taste of it and something more solid after I'd shot someone in the head, the image of blood mingling in dark sewer water… I, Sybil, clutched my head and cried out.

He was in me, he would always be in me and I couldn't escape. Everything in me was poisoned. I couldn't be with anyone good, I couldn't touch anything pure without bringing him with me, I couldn't do… couldn't… no….

Sky high. Harvey Dent's most wanted… Innocent civilians. Noble. Words began to assimilate in my mind. Sentences were a little beyond me but at least it was better than violent images. I could control this. I would not lose Sybil.

It took a good ten minutes for the words to make sense. The Joker was planning something. He'd announced it and… Social experiment? Something to do with the ferries. An explosion. But not all of them had to die. There was a choice.

Ferries. Why did that bother me? What was I trying to remember?

It occurred to me that I barely had space in my head for my own memories anymore now that the Joker had taken up residence, so to speak. I couldn't remember why the ferries should make me feel like I was forgetting something or… or someone.

"I want to walk the line, walk the line 'til the end of time."

I knotted my fingers in my hair as I tried to think past the sound of screaming. Why was there screaming inside my head? What was I trying to find? No, not what. Who?

Singing… singing… Who do I sing for?

"The very thought of you…" NO! No, there had to be someone else in my head, please, anyone else…

"Your thoughts are like the back of my hand. I will always be able to find you." There was more screaming. Shouts of protest. They don't deserve to have this happen to them… they're good people…

I'm afraid. I'm afraid. Oh, God, I've never been this afraid. Sybil, why did you have to go? I focused in on the sound of my name. I knew these thoughts. But whose were they? This wasn't what she wanted. I should have waited. She would have been smarter. I don't want to die. I miss her but I don't want to die.

But what am I without Sybie?

What am I without – "Little Erin's sibling Sybil."

"Oh, my God!" I whispered, crawling up off the floor as what I'd forgotten finally came back.

Erin was on the ferry. Erin, following my directions to the letter, had gotten on one of the ferries the Joker had rigged with explosives. And the Joker had known. He'd been in my head so of course he'd known. He'd also scattered everything in my brain to hell and back so that I'd had the worst time trying to put my memories together. He had very artfully used my untrained talent to his advantage. Now he had an unstable woman in his care that would only need a push in the right direction to fall into old, violent habits. Erin's death would be the perfect push.

But I wasn't broken now. I was furious. "Joker!" I clawed my way into a standing position, wrapping the stained sheet tight around my body. My body was singing songs of bruises and torn flesh along my nerves but I ignored it. I was too busy staring at him.

We were several stories up in a building still under construction that had a perfect view of the two stranded ferries out on the water. In one of them sat my sister, shaken and terrified. I didn't have the strength to reach out to her with words. Even if I did, she might think she was delusional. For some reason she thought I was dead.

"Hmm, you woke up early, my girl," he said, glancing casually out at the ferries. Two dogs, hell if I knew the breed, were standing at his feet. They didn't pay me any attention. Apparently a skinny woman in a sheet wasn't much of a threat. "Sleep well?"

"Shove it," I snapped. "My head's all back together again. I know what you did. If you think for one second that I'd fall into your arms after you kill my sister - " He gripped my arm and jerked me forward, fisting a gloved hand in my hair. He looked the same as ever, right down to the long purple coat that somehow shrunk him down and lessened the width of his shoulders. Now I knew the man behind the clothes, the make-up, the scars. I knew him so well that it might drive me insane.

"You think you're all fixed?" he asked before giggling as if he'd never heard something that absurd. "You just slapped some duct tape on the problem. Your brain's a trembling house of cards. All it needs is one small tap and it all comes tumbling down." I stared, at a loss for something to say. I couldn't think of an argument. His words had the distressing ring of truth to them and I knew I wasn't all right. I might never be all right. "Ooh, and if little Erin dies out there tonight?" He pressed his mouth against my ear, tracing the shell of it with his tongue. "Who else will you have?"

"Get away from me," I hissed weakly. He just smirked as he released his hold on me and stepped back. The Joker didn't have to fight to have me anymore. I was already his.

I turned away, pressing a shaking hand against my face. "Who else will you have?" Christ, he was right. I didn't have anyone else in my life besides my sister. I didn't have friends. She was the only family that loved me. He would be all that was left.

How fucking pathetic was that?

"You made it! I'm so thrilled." I spun around and saw him. The Batman. I felt a surge of hope and relief. He might have looked vaguely ridiculous in all that black armor and with bat ears to boot but I hadn't seen anything that good in a long time. I knew he could save us again, my sister and I.

I backed away from the two extreme characters, too battered to be any good in a fight. Instead I listened to what was going on down on the ferries. I'd missed a vote.

I voted no. I have nothing to feel guilty about. I voted no. Erin repeated that to herself over and over again. But underneath those strong, defiant thoughts I could hear what she was really thinking. I only voted no because I knew nobody else would. I only voted no so I could feel better about killing a boat full of other people.

How could I? How could I do this? She would be so ashamed of me.

"Erin," I whispered out loud, shocked by her thoughts. But what should I expect? I'd taught her only how precious her life was. It was true. Her life was important to me, extremely so. But I'd never thought to teach her that there are more important things than living. I had failed her. After trying so hard, fighting so hard, I had ultimately failed.

"Please," Erin said, her heart racing in her chest. How could she do this? What would she say? "Please," she tried again. This time her voice was louder. This time the people paid attention. "We can't do this." There was a protest from the crowd but spoke over it. "There aren't just convicts on that boat. There are policemen and guards. They're people with families, too. We can't just kill them because we're afraid of dying. That's not a good enough reason."

I stood, transfixed. I hadn't taught her that. Had I? No, I couldn't have. I had never been that good.

"There won't be any fireworks," a growling voice exclaimed, finally catching my attention. The Joker had the Batman pinned outside in the perfect position to watch the explosion. But I knew something they didn't. On Erin's boat, no one was rising to take the detonator. She was standing up and staring at everyone around her but no one met her eyes. No one spoke up against what she said. Erin trembled, so very afraid of dying, but there was also the distinct feeling of peace. She will be proud of me now. As if I could ever not be.

The time came and passed. Neither ferry exploded. I dared a smile, stretching my ruined lips. Then I blinked and looked toward the men frozen outside, although one was only frozen because he was being held down. "You're alone." I only caught the end of whatever the Batman was saying since I was a little absorbed in my sister's thoughts. However, I could feel the Joker's intentions even before he even reached for the detonator in his pocket.

"Can't depend on anyone. You have to do everything yourself. Don't we?" My breath caught in my throat. No. No, I hadn't just learned something amazing about my sister only to lose her now. NO. "Do you know how I got these scars?"

"You know what, Joker? That question is really getting old." I smashed a spare plank of wood over his head, giving the Batman the opportunity to free himself. Then he tossed the so-called love of my life over the ledge and into empty air. I think that was the point when I fainted, the sound of laughter ringing in my ears.

I remember a blur of SWAT uniforms around me. They carried me out of the building, all the while talking about the Joker. The Batman had saved him then left him swinging upside down for the authorities to collect. One of the officers gave me his jacket. No one had extra clothes on hand so I was stuck with the jacket that barely covered my ass. There was no way I was carrying that sheet around anymore.

Once I was at the station, I was promptly forgotten. There was so much more to do, after all, than to tend to one obviously battered woman. The hostages were getting off the ferries, the Joker had been captured again and something had happened with Harvey Dent. I found that I wasn't curious enough to care about what fate had befallen the once glorious white knight. Instead I wandered through the corridors, looking for the commissioner's office. Once I found it I curled up in one of the chairs and let the events of the evening finally sink into my head.

---

That was what had happened to me. My body had been ravished, my brain had been raped and I barely knew myself anymore. I shook in Jim Gordon's arms, crying into his jacket. Concern flowed off of him in waves, which made me cry harder. He was a good man and I shouldn't be allowed to touch him. Someone as screwed up as I was didn't belong around normal people.

"It's all right, Sybil. I've got you. You're safe with me." His voice was like a balm to my tattered emotions.

"I'm such a wreck," I whispered, voice strangled with tears. Then I felt the presence of the last person in the world I wanted to see me like this.

"Sybie?" I twisted my head around. Erin stood at the door, her blonde hair limp around her face. I had never seen her look that pale and shaken. She stared at me as if she'd never seen me before tonight. "Oh, my God, Sybie. What did he do to you?"

"It doesn't matter," I said with an attempt at sounding like I wasn't falling apart at the seams. "Are you okay?" Erin shook her head. Then her face took on an eerily familiar expression. It was a bit like looking in a mirror. Her eyes had narrowed just like mine did when I was feeling stubborn.

"It does matter. What happens to you does matter, Sybil. It's not all about me!" Jim had backed up, giving the two of us some room to work this out. I appreciated his discretion but I also wished he would stay. He would have been a good distraction.

"Erin," I murmured weakly. God, I was not up to this conversation. I didn't have the strength.

"All my life it's been about me but tonight I figured out that the world doesn't revolve around Erin Callaghan." She dropped to her knees beside me. "You're my big sister, Sybil. When I thought you were dead there were a thousand things I wanted to say. But most of all I regretted how I stood by and let you make your life completely about me. Now I want you to tell me what happened to you and I don't want you to leave anything out. We're starting fresh, right here and now. We're going to be different. We're going to be better." I stared down at her young face, wondering how on earth I'd missed this side of my sister.

"Where did you come from?" I asked aloud, daring to touch her cheek. Erin smiled at me.

"I came from you. I know I have a ways to go before I'm actually a useful person instead of decoration but with everything you taught me, I think I can do it." I shook my head.

"I don't remember teaching you this." Her smile just widened.

"You didn't have to. I was watching."

---

It's been a week since all of this took place. I didn't lose my sister that night but sometimes it feels as if I had. She's so different now. She's even taking care of me! I'm proud of how far she's come but I have to admit I miss the innocence. Erin lost her pure, untouched glow on the ferry. She learned something about human nature and she can't unlearn it. She knows now there are dark things in the night, things I have been shielding her from for years. Erin won't let me do that anymore.

I really don't know what to do with myself. Find a life, I suppose. Perhaps the Joker wouldn't have so easily bound me to him if I'd had more than just my sister to live for. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Once I heal a bit more I'm thinking of finding help regarding my gift. I've left it alone far too long. Now it's a matter of damage control. I'll need a teacher but God knows where I can find the one I need.

I have acquired a friend, however. A certain police commissioner has been popping up at my apartment regularly, checking in and offering invitations over to his house for dinner. I suppose I should say that I have three new friends since his children were both inexplicably fascinated by me. It was probably because of all the colors my bruises were turning. His wife didn't like me, though. I'm not sure why. I guess some women get suspicious when their husbands bring wealthy, unattached young women around the house. Go figure.

Now, I think I know what you're all really wondering about. What happened to the Joker? Well, that's my one really big problem.

---

I tossed in my bed, sweating as the nightmare gripped me. It had been three days since I'd seen his face but I was seeing him vividly now. His fingers stroked my cheek, trailing over my scar. That unnatural smile stretched wide as he crouched over my helpless form.

"Come visit me, my girl," he murmured against my lips. "Or I'll visit you."

I came awake with a gasp. I could still feel him on my mouth, taste his red lipstick on my tongue. That hadn't been a normal dream. I had only briefly wondered what the Joker might do in his spare time at Arkham but now I knew. He was going to practice his mind tricks. But the worse threat was the one he'd just whispered. If I didn't see him, he'd come see me. He'd break out. How? Who knows. This was the Joker. It was silly to ask.

The Joker wanted me and I couldn't tell him no.

I was in trouble. Very. Big. Trouble.