The Joker and the Thief

It was almost liberating to wash the dirt and blood off my body. I changed the bandage on my arm wound while trying not to look at it; I wasn't sure if that was something I wanted to see when my mood was beginning to improve. I got dressed in my clean clothes and I did the best I could with my hair before exiting the bathroom. The house was still quiet and I met no one on my way to the living. After a few minutes of exploring the house I realized I was all alone. The house was empty except for me. When I tried to leave the house though the garage door it was locked and all the windows were locked too.

Instead of breaking out a window, like I probably should have, I settled on the worn down couch and started to flip through channels on the television. Something caught my attention when I changed to channel to GCN; Gotham City News. Mike Engel, in his usual suit and tie, was standing on a sidewalk downtown talking into his microphone as a large number of people, many of them dressed in police uniforms, walked down the street. “With no word from the Batman, even as they mourn Commissioner Loeb, these cops have to be wondering if the Joker will make good on his threat in the obituary column of The Gotham Times to kill the mayor.”

I could have thrown up for the way my stomach twisted.Why in the world would the Joker want to kill the mayor? I know he's insane but this appeared to be just another pointless killing. Unless I wasn't seeing the whole picture. I settled on the fact that I probably wasn't seeing the whole picture when the mayor walked onto the short stage which was built in front of City Hall.

“Commissioner Loeb dedicated his life to law enforcement,” And when did Loeb die?, I thought to myself. “...and to the protection of his community. I remember when I first took office...” When I noticed Gordon sitting in the rows of people behind the podium, I became a little nervous. The entire time, Gordon was scanning the windows on the adjacent buildings, looking for something or someone. I also noticed Harvey Dent and his girlfriend, Rachel Dawes, sitting a few seats down the row.

“And as we recognize the sacrifice of this man,” I continued to scan the crowd as the mayor's speech went on. All I saw were cops. “....we must remember that vigilance is the price of safety.” The mayor stepped back for the podium, signaling the end of the speech. The honor guard, which was placed directly in front of the stage, then prepared to salute Loeb. One round went off; nothing happened. The second round went off, I saw Gordon flinch a little before exhaling. The guard prepared for the third round but when the commander yelled 'aim' all the members of the guard pivoted on one foot and pointed their guns at the mayor, who still stood by the podium.

Time seemed to slow, even though I watching it on television. I heard the loud bang but it took me a moment to realize it wasn't the mayor who got shot. No, someone helped the mayor up and carried him off stage, away from the panic that was ensuing on the street. I saw Gordon laying on the stage, not moving, but it still didn't register in my mind. Jim Gordon, being the person that he was, had jumped in front the mayor and was no laying lifelessly on the stage. My mind went blank for a few seconds.

Jim Gordon was dead. Jim Gordon, the man who knew me all my life. Jim, my father's partner. Jim, the man who broke the news to my mother and I when my father was shot and killed by some man who want to get a speeding ticket. Jim, the man who held my hand as my father's casket was lowered into the ground. Lt. Jim Gordon, the man who kept me out of jail so many times. The one person who actually cared for me. And now he was dead.

I was sitting in the bedroom floor when the Joker found me. He was dressed in his regular clothes and his face was covered in new make-up. I then went back to staring at the wall and trying to prevent more tears from escaping. He looked down at me, probably waiting for me to say something. I didn't. A minute or two passed before he chuckled, “Any body in there?” He nudged my leg with his foot. In return I punched him in the leg like a child. The Joker then knelt down to my level. With a gloved hand, he poked me on the nose. I slapped his hand away. I went to slap him again but this time the Joker grabbed my wrist before I could do any damage.

“Let go of me.” I said while trying to free my arm from the Joker's grasp. I wished he would leave me alone and let me dwell in my pity.

“What'd I ever do to you? You can't blame me for your haircut, can you?” The Joker's laugh broke through my wall of indifference. I lunged at him and we both fell back onto the floor. I punched and swung at any place I could reach before the Joker could come to his senses. When he did finally realize what was happening, the Joker managed to pin my arms and I to the ground. That was when the tears started. “What is wrong with you?” The Joker asked in his serious tone.

Between the sobs and tears, I managed to yell, “Get off of me!” I didn't actually expect him to listen to me but a second later the weight and pressure on my body was gone and I was free to roll over and bury my face in the carpet. I was still laying there when I heard the Joker get up and leave the room.