This is my first fic in this fandom so please be kind!

This will be a two part story and will get very nasty in the next part :) Nothing squicky here though.

Disclaimer - I own nothing.

Please read and review! Thank you :)

Trail of Blood

It was half past eleven in Gotham City and most of the city's respectable citizens were safely tucked away in bed. No such luck for any of the city's police department. They were all still hard at work, either at the station or out on patrol and had been since the middle of the day. Since it had happened.

Commissioner James Gordon sat in his office, his head in his hands. A glass of whiskey sat in front of him, untouched. He leant back in his chair and sighed. He didn't normally like to show any sign of weakness; it wasn't good for his men's morale. This had been an especially chaotic day for him. He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead worriedly, trying to soothe the headache that insisted in bothering him for hours.

It had to be that freak didn't it?

Anyone could have made it out of Arkham; any number of the prisoners there could have been the one set free. But no, it wasn't any of them.

Of course, it just had to be the Joker.

What was Gordon meant to do? How many more people were going to have to die that day? People looked to him for answers and to keep them safe but right at that moment, he felt inadequate. They had stopped the Joker before but that had been thanks to someone else. Someone who the policy department themselves had forced undercover.

Gordon had no idea where to even start looking for him. How exactly do you go about finding a man that you had hunted for six months, no matter how reluctantly? A person you had allowed the media to tear apart, the public to despise and fear?

Where would a bat hide?

A soft knocking brought Jim out of his musings.

"Commissioner?"

Gordon looked up to find one of his rookies hovering by the door.

"Yes, eh Behman isn't it?"

"Yes sir. Sorry sir, but there's another news item. He's sent them another message."

Gordon frowned.

"More killings?"

"Not yet, sir. He says there will be if Batman doesn't face him. And he says this time, everyone will sit up and take notice."

Gordon rolled his eyes.

"The bastard and his thugs walk into a primary school in the middle of the day; he cuts up two teachers live on TV and then cheerfully blows the building up, with thirty children inside, as he stands by and laughs? And he thinks the city isn't paying attention?"

Behman didn't seem to know how to answer his superior. He stayed silent.

Gordon rose from his desk and began to walk towards the young man.

"How long have you been here, Behman?"

"Three months, sir. Only just graduated this year."

Jim sighed. "I guess you didn't sign up for nights like this, huh son?"

"Well, actually sir, yes I did."

Gordon eyed the young man, who hesitated for one second before continuing; "One of the kids in that explosion today; she was a pal's daughter, only six years old. When we catch that insane shithouse who laughed as innocent children got blown to bits, I wanna be there. I wanna watch him suffer for a change."

Gordon's expression was that of sadness. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Behman. Pass my sympathies onto your friend." He went to move past the rookie but paused and looked back. "Remember though Behman, animals like the Joker strive on feelings like revenge and hate. That is what he lives for. If you do meet him, put any thoughts like that quickly out of your mind or he will make you regret them."

Leaving Behman to gaze after him, Jim walked through another doorway, into the main area, which was alive with activity. The television screens were showing constant repeats of the Joker's most recent announcement and Gordon grimaced as he watched the crazed clown laughing hysterically. He frowned; there was too much noise around him, he couldn't hear a thing!

"Turn that up!" He shouted over the din. Someone hurried to obey.

Gordon, eyes narrowing in anger, stared up into the painted face of the hated mass murderer and as he heard his words, his stomach knotted.

"Beloved people of Gotham. I'm speaking to you once again on this fateful day as I don't want any one else to die. I didn't want those kiddies to die! I gave you and him a choice, told you all you could save their lives but you all chose to ignore me. Twenty minutes was the time I gave you and him but I got no reply. I assumed you thought I was playing. Big mistake. He stayed away, you decided to hide him, and those kids paid the price. I don't want to use the word coward, but maybe you should make up your own minds."

Gordon's hatred for the man intensified. He still wanted Gotham to turn on Batman, to watch the city cave in on itself due to fear and horror and pain. And when he forced Batman to be exiled, Gordon himself helped the Joker do that. Again, the feelings of guilt and regret intensified.

The Joker was still talking. "So, this time I'm addressing you directly, Batman. You can't keep on hiding in the shadows. I need you, you need me. It's simple. I promise you, more will die. And the next deaths won't be quick and painless like those poor little kiddies you let me blow to bits. And this time, they will be people that mean something to you. Come and find me, Batman. Or this city will keep on suffering for your cowardice. You'll know where to find me. Keep watching the news. And, don't make me wait much longer. As you know, I'm not a patient man!"

With one little wave, the screen went black. And the video immediately started again.

Gordon continued to stare for a moment, glaring into nothing. Finally, he turned to his officers, who were all watching and waiting for his instructions.

"Have there been any sightings of Batman?"

"Not for months, Commissioner. The whole of Gotham has seen these videos; the Joker's got everyone running scared. Again. Either Batman is far away or he's ignoring this. Either way, he ain't coming to help us."

Gordon looked up sharply at the man speaking, noting the dislike in his voice.

"And you expect him to just fly to the rescue, is that it? After the way we shunned him, hunted him like a beast and labeled him a murderer? You really think he'll want to aid us now? Aid me?"

The officers exchanged glances.

Stephens cleared his throat. "You declared him a killer, Commissioner. You told us to hunt him down. The whole city turned against him, because of you."

Gordon turned abruptly towards Stephens, as if he wanted to shout at the man, but managed to stop himself.

"You're right", he whispered, dejectedly. "I know you're right."

"Sir," another voice spoke up. "We've found no clues from the wreckage of the school. The men have been searching for hours and bodies are still being identified."

Gordon nodded. "Call them out, they can resume the search in the morning. We won't find any clues leading to the Joker, unless he wants us too."

Again, the detectives looked from one to the other, concern on all of their faces. Gordon could see their uncomfortable glances and he understood their worries. They weren't used to seeing him so defeated. But he couldn't help but feel deflated. He should have expected something like this. It only took one nutter who saw the Joker as "revolutionary" to decide to break him out and chaos would reign once again. And that was exactly what had happened. And the one man the Joker seemed to care about or have anything like respect for was unreachable.

Why did Gordon ever agree to Batman's insane request? Just to save Harvey Dent's reputation? Dent couldn't help them now, could he? Only the Dark Knight could save them and he remained in the shadows.

And for that, Gordon blamed himself.

But, now was not the time to be showing so much weakness. His men and Gotham needed their Commissioner to be on the ball. Giving himself a hard shake, Jim turned quickly again to his men and began to issue instructions, which they seemed very relieved to receive.

"We need to get some more patrol cars out on the street. Stephens, see to it. We want to make sure people aren't panicking. We need to keep combing as much of those streets out there as we can. The Joker is unlikely to slip up but if he does, I want to make it count."

His tone softened.

"Some of you have been here nearly twenty four hours. Even been personally affected by today's tragedies. Those people should try and get some sleep when they can. Everyone else, get back to work. No one else is going to die today." He swallowed hard before adding; "We're in for a long night, so lets get to it."

"You've got that right, Commissioner."

The officers whirled round in complete shock to find the Joker striding into the room, hands by his side, his eyes trained on Gordon's. Jim's gaze immediately flickered to the Joker's right hand, in which he grasped a gun.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

Jim stared at the unholy clown, at the same time both horrified and astounded by the murderer's audacious entrance.

The Joker bowed to him.

"Why so grim, Commissioner?" The Joker asked.

Before Gordon had a chance to reply, masked men stormed into the room and surrounded the police officers, each clutching machine guns. They stood, covering the stunned detectives, waiting for instructions. The Joker, still staring at Gordon, stepped back slowly and nodded. In a split second, Gordon realized what this signal meant and opened his mouth to yell to his men to take cover – but it was much too late.

The masked thugs opened fire with glee and a steady stream of bullets tore into the defenseless detectives. The terrible sound of thunderous noise and terrified screams filled the air as man after man fell, either dead or gravely injured. Many got off some shots of their own and a few of their adversaries also suffered deadly hits but the machine gun fire was just too brutal to fight against for long. Finally, the room fell silent. Only moans and sobs could be heard.

Jim opened his eyes, finding himself on the floor, unsure if he had been hit. A quick check of his body told him that he was one of the lucky ones. He was dimly aware of a weight on top of him and reasoned that he had been knocked out of harm's way. He was struggling to dislodge the dead weight pinning him down when he heard the Joker ordering his men to stop.

Then came that sinister, maniacal laughter. The Joker's trademark. It was soft though, and cold.

"Well, well, well. I'm slightly disappointed in Gotham's finest, it has to be said. That was astonishingly easy." The Joker was stepping over the bodies, giving sly kicks to the wounded or dying. He appeared to be looking for someone. He was enjoying himself immensely and that fact made Gordon sick to his stomach.

With a moan of effort, he shoved out at the man lying on top of him and finally, the man rolled over, away from him. The Joker turned at the sound and his eyes widened when he saw the cause. "Good." He drawled and gestured to two of his men to drag Gordon up.

Jim struggled but was held too tight. All he could do was glare at the Joker as he approached. The clown was holding a knife and twirling it in his fingers. Jim's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to it, the shine of it. He wondered if the Joker wanted to play? If he did, life didn't look so cosy for Jim Gordon at that moment – and he was scared.

Jim's eyes swept the room. At least five of his colleagues were dead and a good many more wounded. The floor was turning crimson red and the Joker walked through the blood, the red staining his shoes. This was no man; all Jim could see was the devil.

Finally, the Joker reached him. They regarded each other for a moment before the Joker grabbed Jim's hair and yanked his head back, causing the police chief to groan in pain. The Joker almost lovingly drew the knife across Jim's throat, just nicking his skin, enough to make him wince.

The Joker bared his teeth and then pulled the knife away. He wiped the blood away with his finger, which he then put into his mouth and sucked it clean.

Gordon was sickened.

"I see your time in Arkham hasn't done you any good, Joker."

The Joker tilted his head to one side. "You've learned new tricks while I've been away too, haven't you Commissioner? I've been hearing all over the place, you've been tidying up the streets some more, without the help of your batty friend? Isn't that right?"

Gordon said nothing.

The Joker tutted. "You know though Commissioner, there's still some pointers I could give you. Such as defending your base. I've killed double the amount from last time, haven't I?" And the Joker laughed in Gordon's face.

A voice from the floor spoke up. "Leave him alone, you murdering asshole."

The Joker scrunched up his face, confused. He turned around slowly, a questioning look to one of his lackeys. The masked man nodded and pointed out one of their captives out. With a sigh, the Joker held up his gun and shot the cop in the head. The man let out a gurgling sound and then slumped lifelessly to the ground.

Gordon swallowed hard as the Joker turned back to him. "Silly boy," the clown slurred.

Jim looked over at the dead man and saw it was the rookie, Behman. Jim stared at the broken body, trying to fathom out what had just happened, and how. This had been a young man, so fresh. What was the purpose or point of his death? Apart from too please the sick desires of a madman.

Jim, his heart heavy, looked down at the gun in the Joker's hand.

"A silencer?" He inquired.

"Well spotted," the Joker replied. He tapped the gun against Gordon's arm. "It's how I got into here without too much trouble. Sorry about your poor little girl at the front desk, I made quite a mess of her pretty blouse. Oh yes, the uniforms out in the front, none of them made it either." He attempted a sad face but it didn't come off. He shrugged. "What can I say, Commissioner? I'm just one happy guy!"

Gordon's eyes swept the room. Those men who had survived had been rounded up and herded into a corner of the room. The Joker's men were stood around them, all their guns aimed and ready. Jim knew the order would come; that the Joker was just buying his time. And time is what Jim needed. He had to keep the scum talking.

As calmly as he could muster, Gordon asked; "What is it that you want?"

The Joker again looked confused. He gestured towards the TV screens. "Haven't you been watching the news, Commissioner? I thought I made it pretty clear what it is I want. The Batman."

Gordon said nothing. The Joker moved in closer.

"Why didn't he come?"

"I don't know."

The Joker pouted. He pulled his knife out again, examined it and brushed it against Jim's face. The Commissioner tried hard not to flinch. He was also very aware that the manic still held a gun in his other hand. One wrong step here and he and the rest of his department were dead.

"Will you call him?" The Joker whispered. It was almost as if he was beseeching Gordon.

"I can't."

"DON'T LIE TO ME!"

Jim started at the Joker's sudden change in volume. The man seemed more unhinged than ever, if that were possible. Gordon thought back to something the Joker had said, in this very station, to Jim's dark friend. "You complete me." Jim felt that the Joker truly did believe that. He couldn't exist without Batman. And the Joker would find his adversary, whatever it took.

"I'm not lying," he said calmly. "Things have changed while you've been in Arkham, as you mentioned. I don't think you've been told the whole story."

"You tell me then."

Gordon swallowed. "Batman killed five people the night you were caught. I had no choice, I cut all ties with him and labeled him a murderer. We've been hunting him ever since. The whole city has shunned him. He's hated here and for good reason."

The Joker had listened intently but now he asked; "What reason?"

Gordon hesitated. Again, the Joker's knife was held to his throat. "What reason?"

"One of the men he killed was Harvey Dent!"

The Joker stopped. He gazed at Gordon, apparently trying to find a hint of a lie on his face. Then, he began to laugh.

Even the Joker's own thugs were unnerved by their boss' reaction to this news. Gordon could feel that in the growing uncertainty of the men holding him, their grips had, unbeknownst to them, lessened. Jim couldn't dare pull free though, it would be his men that would suffer.

"Let's go and call him." The Joker said, softly. "Let's go to the roof, Commissioner."

Gordon paled. His heart sank.

"I told you, I can't."

"And you're lying to me. Harvey isn't dead. He's comatose in Arkham. He killed those men, not Batman. As I said, you're lying." The Joker paused as he noticed the stunned expressions on that of Gordon's men. Stephens, holding onto a wound on his arm, was shaking his head in disbelief.

"A leader should never lie to his slaves, Commissioner. Where will the trust be now?"

Jim was trapped. He couldn't call Batman but the Joker would never believe him. He would have to try and bluff it to give his men some chance of getting out of there alive.

He was a dead man and he knew it. He didn't have to take those that had foolishly trusted him along with him.

"Okay," he said, gaining a chuckle from the Joker. "But I want you to release those men first."

The Joker raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't sound like much fun for me?"

"Maybe not," Gordon said, "but that's the deal. You want me to play your game? You play mine and let my men, including the dead and wounded, leave here."

The Joker was obviously of two minds. He'd promised his men a bloodbath but he needed Gordon for his plan. In the end, there was only one decision he could make.

"They can leave, if they go now. And if any brave man tries to get back inside here to rescue you, I'll slice them up in front of you. How's that deal sound, Commissioner?"

Gordon swallowed hard. To be left alone with this madman and a handful of thugs all baying for his blood did not sound inviting but he owed his people their freedom. And he wouldn't let them down.

Jim nodded.

His team sounded their disapproval. Stephens jumped to his feet.

"Sir, we aren't leaving you here with him!"

Other officers voiced their agreement with the detective. None of them wanted to leave Gordon to what he felt was a deserved fate. He appreciated all of their loyalty but he needed them to see sense.

"Get out," he said. "Stay outside. Get the wounded to hospital and the dead seen too properly." He glanced at Stephens. "You all need to keep your heads. Gotham relies on us, on you. Don't let me down."

Not one man moved.

The Joker muttered under his breath. Jim knew he was growing impatient. He would wipe out the few men still living without a second thought, despite his agreement; unless Jim could get them out.

"Go." Gordon snapped. "That's an order!"

A beat.

"NOW!"

At last, he was obeyed.

Sheepishly, the men filed out, carrying their dead colleagues between them and aiding the wounded. Stephens was the last to leave, looking back at Gordon in sadness. Jim knew he would never see the man again. He nodded, trying to be encouraging. The detective turned to leave but was grabbed by the Joker. Gordon opened his mouth to complain but was silenced by a blow to his head by one of the men holding him.

The Joker leered at Stephens. "How many of your friends did I kill this time?"

"You Bastard!" Stephens growled.

"Shh, shh. I have a request to make. I would like a helicopter."

Stephens scoffed. "Oh really?"

"Yes really." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you want me to send out one piece of Jim Gordon to you at a time?"

Stephens flinched. "Why a helicopter? You could escape now..."

The Joker laughed. "Escape? Oh no, you don't understand. I don't want to escape. I want to be on TV. I want journalists and reporters, in a helicopter, filming that roof in the next ten minutes. Or I start cutting." He seemed to think before adding meekly, "Please?"

What choice did Stephens have? "I'll see what I can do."

"That's a good idea. Now, go away."

With one last glance at Gordon, Stephens was gone.

The Joker began to clap loudly, just as Gordon had seen him do once before, when he had been promoted to Commissioner.

The Joker pointed to a door. Beyond it was the stairway leading to the roof.

"Shall we?" He taunted.

Gordon frowned. "This isn't going to do you any good. I can't lead you to Batman."

"We'll see."

The Joker jerked his head and the two men holding Jim began to drag him to the door. With a quick order to his remaining men to stay and make sure no one tried to enter, the Joker followed.

His wait was nearly over; he would see the Batman again soon. And until then, he was going to have himself some real fun.

Ahead of him, Jim Gordon took a deep breath as he was forced up the stone steps. His ordeal was only just beginning.

TBC