In the Mind of Madness

“Kenna. Hey, Kenna, get up!”

Kenna jerked out of sleep violently, sitting up and breathing heavily. Darla was already heading for the door, beckoning anxiously for Kenna to follow. With a huff Kenna got up and stumbled after her, feeling that her hair was disheveled and her clothes were askew. Her groggy mind was only processing that she was supposed to be somewhere or do something, and she hurried down the stairs.

“What’s going on?” demanded Kenna, leaning on the wall for support. Kenna hadn’t slept a whole lot the night before, her head a bit foggy and her neck sore.

Darla led her into the living room, pointing at the television. Kenna’s mouth fell open as she saw the woman on the news. Her knees gave out and she landed on the couch limply, her eyes glued to the familiar face on the screen. The kind green eyes and dark brown hair, the lovely woman could only be her mother. She was walking quickly, trying to avoid the reporters that were hounding her. King then came from behind her, blocking the camera’s view as they headed into an apartment building.

The regular newscaster came back on, a grim expression on his face. “We have received reports that this is Trina Archer, the mother of the doctor that has been conspiring with The Joker to -”

Kenna choked, her eyes bugging. “Conspiring?!” she screeched.

Darla turned off the television, looking sheepish. “You weren’t supposed to see that…I just thought you’d be glad to see your mom.”

Kenna shoved past the redhead, storming for the doorway she knew led to The Joker’s ‘workshop’. The armed thug she had anticipated was there, lazily leaning against the wall. After her first few days there Kenna hadn’t tried any blocked doors, so he wasn’t expecting her. She drew her fist back and slammed it into his face with all her might.

While he was stunned she ran past him, cradling her hand against her chest. That really hurt, but at least she was past him. Kenna went for the only door past that one, opening it and glowering at The Joker as he sat hunched over a table littered with various machine parts, wires, and tools. He looked up at her, an almost humorous look of shock on his face. Kenna stood and looked at him with her chest heaving, her eyes watering from the pain in her hand.

“May I help you?” The Joker asked after a moment of her seething.

Kenna cursed under her breath. “I should have known that you were planning something. You did it so damn cunningly. They don’t suspect a thing anymore. The combination of the media and the evidence has everyone thinking that I’m here willingly.”

“You should know by now, I’m not a big planner.” shrugged The Joker.

“Oh, bull shit!” spat Kenna. “You planned your escape from Arkham, you planned the bank robbery, you planned that explosion and the reporters there to see you molest me, and you planned to drive me insane! Well, it isn’t going to work! Ow, my freaking hand!”

Kenna doubled over, her adrenaline fading and the pain in her hand actually registering. It had to be broken. Tears sprang to her eyes as she heaved for breath.

The Joker clicked his tongue at her and stood up, taking her by the wrist. She hissed as he held her hand up, inspecting it. He moved his hold to her shoulder, making Kenna walk in front of him. They went past the goon who was moaning on the floor. Kenna was led to a part of the house she didn’t recognize, and The Joker sat her down on a chair.

She watched him as he opened up a closet, pulling out a first aid kit. Kenna flinched backward as he knelt in front of her, reaching for her hand. The Joker held her eyes fiercely and snatched her hand. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Biting down on her lip, Kenna tried not to move as he picked up her hand again. The Joker moved her hand into a brace, then set a cold compress on top of it. “It isn’t even broken.”

Kenna growled as he used her knee to stand up. “You have them thinking I’m your accomplice. They’re charging me.”

“That can’t be right!” The Joker exclaimed, wearing an obviously fake look of confusion. “The wonderful people of Gotham would never judge you without knowing the whole story!”

“Oh, ha ha. This isn’t funny.” Kenna tried moving her hand and grunted. She fixed The Joker with a shrewd stare. “Let me leave.”

The Joker pushed her back down as she went to get up. “I’m not going to do that.”

“I know.” Kenna found herself sighing, closing her eyes. When she spoke again her voice was faint. “I want my mother.”

For once The Joker didn’t say anything to her. When Kenna opened her eyes he was gone. She hurried out into the hall, just in time to see him disappearing around the corner. Following him, Kenna realized the truth in her words. Seeing her mother had upset her. Even awoken a bit of her inner child, longing for the comfort of something familiar. Everything here was so screwed up, and she was getting used to it. Kenna was terrified of the rickety abandoned house and the violence becoming her norm.

“Could you please give me a straightforward answer?” she called to him, making him turn.

The Joker’s face was blank except for a slight downward turn to his lips. “About what?”

“Why you’re keeping me here. There is no…logical reason.”

“There is no logical reason.” growled The Joker, then he disappeared into a room that Kenna hadn’t even noticed.

She stared at where he had just been, unsure what he had meant. So there wasn’t a real reason? She was just there because he wanted her there? Why? Kenna glanced at her sore hand and went to the kitchen to see if Darla had any pain killers.