Your Frown Is My Umbrella

Joker made no attempt to get a grip on his anger.

“You, you don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know? Either you like jokes, or you don’t!”

She just flinched away from him and predictably averted her gaze to his shoes. This reaction only caused him to growl more loudly as his dwindling patience slipped right through his fingers like tiny grains of gunpowder.

Was she trying to piss him off? All he wanted was some answers! But whenever he asked, she just stood there, wide-eyed and tongue-tied like a deer caught in the headlights of a midnight train wreck. And then, she’d open her mouth and mumble ‘I don’t know.’ Come on! A man could only take so many ‘I don’t knows’ in one day!

Joker scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The more he thought about her blank dumbfounded stare, the more he realized that it made her look awfully… corpse-y. Her lips were always held in that rigged line, even when she was crying. The corners of her mouth never really dipped above or below those horizontal points, making her big grey eyes the most expressive feature on her face. And even those looked cold and guarded... What was she hiding?

Secrets, that’s what. And I HATE secrets! Oh but she’s my own little secret now, and I hate – I hate – Oh I’ll make her show me everything. All those secrets. I’ll make her tell me everything. Yeah. So, tell me sweetheart, how’d ya’ get those scars?

He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when the girl took a step to the right, away from the door. Her eyes were as wide and wary as ever, but this time he noted a strange tenseness in them that he hadn’t noticed before. The fear was still there, but there was something else…

Or maybe you’re just seeing things. Wouldn’t be the first time. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe she’s nothing. Did ya’ ever think of that, Joker old boy?

“I’m sorry,” she apologized suddenly in an oddly strained voice, wincing as she raised her hands in surrender.

“Huh? For what?”

She frowned as though the answer was obvious.

“I, I made you mad…”

Joker gawked at her as though she’d just claimed to have psychic powers. Then, his jaw dropped as a fresh bout of laughter rushed up his throat.

*.*.*.*.*

She stood there in confusion, watching as he belted out his wheezy, cackling laughter. What was so funny?

“Oh,” he panted between giggles, “oh, ha ha, I think you need to lighten up a bit!”

She wrinkled her forehead as he wiped a tear from his eye. Well now, she didn’t find it so funny. He’d been staring at her in that predatory way again, and she didn’t tend to enjoy feeling as though she were seconds away from being mauled. And so, she had apologized for making him angry. How on earth was that funny? Damian never reacted like that.

“Okay, okay,” Joker giggled, “that was a good one. Nice recovery princess. Got any more?”

“Um… More what?”

“Jokes!”

Before she could even begin to conjure up a response, there was another knock at the door. Joker’s good mood darkened at once as he shot her a warning glare. This time she knew to keep quiet, or risk being tackled again.

“Boss!”

It wasn’t the same guy as before. This was Mr. Gruff-Voice.

“What!” Joker barked.

“The bomb’s gonna’ blow!”

Reign’s breath caught in her throat as she fought the urge to shriek in terror. There was a bomb, and it was going to explode?!

“I know you said you’re busy,” the man continued urgently, “but we really need you to come up here!”

Joker just shook his head exasperatedly, furiously scratching at his greasy green hair as though he had fleas. She heard him mumble something about having to do everything himself these days, and then he threw his arms in the air and stormed towards her.

“Agh FINE!” he snapped at the man behind the door. “Just give me a minute!”

She glanced up at his towering figure, feeling herself carefully shriveling back against the wall as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. His oily painted cheek rubbed up against hers (sticking to hers), earning a violent shudder courtesy of her entire body.

“Alright,” he hissed, “you’d better stay put. Right here. ‘Cause if I ever catch you makin’ trouble…”

He trailed off, and by the way he was snarling, he really didn’t need to finish his sentence to get his threat across. Reign nodded stiffly, eager for him to go deactivate that bomb and stop huffing and puffing into her ear like a charging bull.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he muttered a satisfied, “Good,” and sauntered away.

*.*.*.*.*

Joker unlocked the door, and then opened it just far enough so that he could squeeze out without revealing the girl inside his room. He didn’t even acknowledge Ted as he locked the door again and marched towards the staircase at the end of the hall.

“That jackass newbie tried to finish it,” Ted explained hurriedly as he walked beside him, “and he used two identical red wires in the circuit. Now we don’t know which one we need to cut to disable it. It’s all fucked up.”

Ted said something else that Joker didn’t hear (probably something stupid like ‘hurry up’) and then bolted ahead of him. Oh well. Joker wasn’t worried about the bomb. He was used to dealing with those things on a regular basis. That girl on the other hand…

It was painfully obvious she thought he had been the one to shoot her earlier, and that misunderstanding was definitely going to work in his favor. Now when he threatened to hurt her again, she wouldn’t think to doubt his intent.

He smirked briefly as his feet found the first steps of the staircase. Maybe having her around wouldn’t be so bad. At least for a while. Joker was still well aware of the fact that it wasn’t the best of ideas, especially since a whiny little voice in the back of his mind kept insisting that he could become attached to her without even meaning to.

But that idea seemed highly unlikely, laughable even. The Joker had faith in his heartlessness, and he had already succeeded in convincing himself that the only reason he couldn’t kill her was because it would be a waste of entertainment.

Oh yeah. He could do this. As long as she stayed out of the way and didn’t interfere, things would be great. Why had he been so worried about taking her in the first place? She was just like any other plaything; irritating, interesting, breakable, predictable. There were real weaknesses and feelings beneath that morbid, unkempt appearance of hers, and he was more than ready to dig ‘em all up.

Scars or no scars, she was only human.

He trotted up the rest of the staircase then, and never really stopped to realize that she wasn’t the only one with real human thoughts and feelings hiding beneath a morbidly unkempt appearance...

“Is he coming?” he heard a muffled voice ask.

The desperation in his henchman’s tone did nothing to make him move any faster. He’d get there when he got there, and until then they’d just have to keep playing ‘Who’s the Biggest Chicken-Shit’.

By the time he did reach the old storage room where they were gathered, the beeping red numerals on the bomb read 31:59. They still had a little over half an hour left. What was the rush?

The Joker scratched at his chin, eyeing each of them accusingly before spitting out his straightforward question.

“Who did it?”

Ted and one of the new guys each took a cautious step backwards. This left a young newbie whom Joker had never met before.

“So?” Joker questioned, not caring to ask his name as he retrieved his gloves from his pocket and pulled them on. “Was it you?”

The kid blinked at him dazedly, and Joker thought he was probably seeing his life flash before his eyes. What a baby. If it had been any other night but tonight, Joker probably would have threatened to stab him, gut him, hollow him out, and use his bloody carcass to make a kite. Maybe he could even tie some intestines around his ankles so they’d dangle like little ribbons…

But The Joker knew he needed all the help he could get tonight, so his morbid fantasy would have to go unfulfilled, for now.

The boy eyed him helplessly, rubbing at his neck before brushing some of the dark fringe from his eyes.

“Yeah,” the guy rushed in a sissy British accent. “It was me. But it was an accident. I – I thought one of those red wires had writing on it, but I guess I snipped it right off when I cut it to size…”

“Caught it to sighs?” Joker mocked, flicking his wrists into the air as he sloppily mimicked the boy’s accent. “That what you said?”

Before he could get a response, a booming burst of thunder shook the entire building and stole his attention. Joker’s head snapped towards the window. There he saw a pack of ominous, black-silhouetted waves tirelessly pounding themselves against the dock like giant fists, illuminated only briefly by brilliant white flashes of forked lightning. It was a show-stopping storm out there. That was for sure.

Oh but The Joker wasn’t going to let this thunderstorm steal his thunder. Rain or no rain, this bomb was going places, and so was he. Tonight.

“Forget it, forget it,” Joker mumbled to his men (but mostly to himself), turning away from the window. “This just means we have…” he turned around to glance at the bomb’s timer, “uh, thirty-one minutes and nineteen seconds to make sure this baby gets where it needs to be. Now, who’s got the keys to the copter?”

*.*.*.*.*

Reign flopped down on the bed and stared intensely at the single light bulb dangling from the ceiling.

Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb… There’s a bomb…

“Good God,” she murmured miserably, burying her face in her hands.

I just had to go outside and watch that damned parade…

As if ticking bombs and relentless bouts of self-loathing weren’t enough, she also had the wrath of Damian to consider. Surely he would hunt her down when he found her missing. He’d be so mad! She envisioned his bristly face crumpling into that satanic, pained grimace he often wore when he grew angry beyond recognition, and just the thought of it almost made her favor The Joker’s mood swings. But that was just crazy.

Crazy as it was, Reign was beginning to think she might actually be better off if she never had to see Damian again. Not that she wanted to stay with The Joker, either. Both men were strikingly deadly (which one was worse, she still wasn’t sure), but if her boyfriend ever got his hands on her again, she was sure he’d kill her for running away like this. And if he didn’t end up finishing her off, her new ‘master’ would be sure to.

She rolled onto her left side, biting on her lower lip to keep from crying out. Was it too much to ask for just a little bit of fairness? Just once? Was she really so undeserving that the world felt the undying need to shove her on the back burner and leave her to fizzle away into the nothingness she seemed so destined for?

And emotional worry wasn’t the only thing assaulting her frazzled mind. The bullet wound in her arm was still sending out its distress signals to each and every available pain receptor in the area.

It felt as though someone had held a cigarette lighter up to her arm, set fire to the flesh, and then simply allowed the inferno to spread where it may.

Every time she felt the heat beginning to fade, the imaginary flames would spring to life once again and lap hungrily at her arm, smearing a fresh layer of blazing pain onto every inch of her body it could reach.

She winced as she raised her wounded arm only slightly, miserably picking at the grungy grey bedspread with trembling fingers. As she began to watch her pale fingertips twitch uneasily against the rough and aged blanket, she slowly came to see (and feel) something that she hadn’t noticed until now; something that made her breathing hitch very suddenly.

Her hand. It was touching the sheet, and she could feel the knotted texture of the fibers against her fingertips. This meant there was no thin barrier of fabric protecting her hand from the bed beneath her, or from the world around her for that matter. She could see (and feel) this very clearly. Her hands were…
Bare.

*.*.*.*.*

While Reign was just realizing that her mittens had disappeared, Benjamin Crenshaw was pulling into his driveway.

He grumbled bitterly as he turned off the ignition, still brooding over the fact that this was turning out to be one of the most frustrating days he’d ever experienced.

First, his chance to have a day off with his family was ruined when it was announced that The Joker had escaped Arkham.

Then when he had tried to meet with Commissioner Gordon, he’d been told that the man was ‘far too busy to be bothered at this time’. The office had been in complete chaos. Herds of reporters, cops, and businessmen had seemingly swirled around in circles, creating a whirlpool of confusion concerning The Joker’s escape. He hadn’t even been able to make it past Gordon’s secretary!

Then when he left and tried to arrange an interview with the doctor who had been treating The Joker that morning before he escaped, they told him she was being put into protective custody until further notice. They then proceeded to tell him that given the circumstances, he was not going to be able to speak with her until the police had finished their own interrogations.

And now, as it rained cats and dogs outside his suburban home near the palisades, Ben was just realizing that he had left the window to his work office wide open.

“Damn it all,” he grumbled, yanking the keys out of the ignition and opening his door.

Oh well. Maybe if he was lucky (and by the looks of things, he wouldn’t be) the janitor would catch it for him.

He slammed the door shut behind him and hit the ‘lock’ button on the little remote before splashing down the walkway towards the front door.

If he‘d known how frustrating this job would be, maybe he wouldn’t even have bothered to cheat his way into office. Maybe it just wasn’t worth it.

Well, at least he was home now. He could try to forget the disastrous wreck of a day he’d had and hope that tomorrow was more productive. Now it was time to sit down on a couch with a nice bowl of Frosted Flakes and watch some good ole’ classic episodes of The Three Stooges with his son. Maybe that would cheer him up.

Yes, his job might have been proving to be a series of unforeseeable disasters, but at least his home was an atmosphere he could control. For that he was grateful.

It was just a shame that The Joker possessed more control over the entire city of Gotham than Ben could ever hope to contain in his own household, and he would get a firsthand glimpse of that power soon enough.

Ben unlocked his front door and headed inside.

As he did that, Bruce Wayne was unknowingly moments away from finding himself in the eye of The Joker’s storm.