In the Mind of Madness

The first thing Kenna noticed when she woke up was that she wasn’t alone.

She was still on the mattress thrown on the floor, but The joker had joined her. This mattress was smaller than the one at the house, and dirty. But Kenna was used to things being dirty by that point. It didn’t even bother her. What did bother her was The Joker barely an inch away from her, their shoulders touching. He was on his back staring at the ceiling, but Kenna knew he was aware that she was awake.

Neither said anything for a while, until Kenna shifted slightly and The Joker turned his face towards her. “Have you guessed what I’m going to do yet, Dr. Archer?”

Kenna flinched when he broke the silence with a low purr, but quickly recovered. “That sounds remarkably like you have a plan. I thought you were a dog chasing cars.”

“It isn’t a plan. It’s an idea. A principle…So? Have you guessed?”

There was a moment where Kenna thought, then sighed. “I’m not sure. Maybe not…I remember you saying something about wanting to shove bamboo splinters under the nails of the police department. And we both know how desperately you want to prove that everybody is evil like you. More specifically the populace of Gotham. I assume another stunt such as my kidnapping or the library.”

“You’ve been listening.” The Joker used a faux coo at her, his hand coming up between them and prodding Kenna’s jaw.

She turned her head to him completely, frowning. “You’ve been poking me a lot lately. Pinching, too. What’s that about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” his face was pure ignorance to what she was talking about, but his fingers moved from her check to her nose, squeezing it hard between his forefinger and thumb.

Kenna inhaled sharply, her hands flying up to her face to fend him off, but he was already gone. Two days after the incident in the van her nose was swollen, bruised, and still extremely tender, and The Joker tweaking it made her eyes begin to water.

“Son of a bitch!” snapped Kenna, glaring over her hands as she cupped her face.

The Joker cackled wildly, too loud for the small room. It echoed against Kenna’s eardrums like something sharp. His legs kicked violently on the end of the mattress, bouncing himself and Kenna around, his hands holding his stomach in mirth. After a minute he quieted to giggles, still amused as Kenna continued to glare at him. The pain subsided and she moved her hands.

“See what I mean?” she accused, wiping away the water from her cheeks. “You touch me constantly.” her face brightened. “Maybe you’re obsessive compulsive.”

That made him laugh again, a bit incredulously. “Even now you’re still desperate to diagnose me. Well, sorry. Ain’t no category for me.”

“I can see a bit of compulsory behavior.” Kenna sat up and looked down at him thoughtfully. “Your hands are almost constantly moving, and you lick your lips. Your eyes move a lot, too. Do you have to do things more than once?”

The Joker looked irritated for a split second, then reached up and flicked Kenna on the forehead two times in quick succession. She blinked, he snorted.

“I have to do that twice. That‘s all, sweet cheeks.” he chuckled.

Kenna bit her lip to hide a smile. “Hm. Maybe I’ve figured you out. Maybe when I get rescued I can diagnose you, and then when they catch you again they can treat you.”

“You’re adorable when you play doctor.” The Joker did the cooing voice at her again, flicking her earlobe this time. “You’re not gonna get rescued. And I’m not gonna get caught…unless I want to.”

“Last time Batman strung you up like a piñata for the police.” reminded Kenna, smirking in grim satisfaction at the thought. “He can do it again.”

The Joker beamed like a kid on Christmas. “Oh, The Rat. I do miss playing with my good friend, Batsie. You know, doll, sometimes I have dreams about who he is! Now that makes me sound crazy. Last night I think he was Eric Clapton.”

Kenna sat in silence. That was the most The Joker had ever revealed to her about his thoughts, and somehow she knew he was being honest. It seemed like he didn’t know he’d been talking out loud, but had had called her ‘doll’, his staple nickname for her. She decided not to push it by saying anything, since he was really getting into the pinching and prodding thing. Maybe if she provoked him he would upgrade to slaps, and Kenna didn’t want that.

“Is there any food here?” asked Kenna, because one of the goons had brought takeout for the last three nights.

The Joker broke out of whatever reverie he’d been in, stretching his arms and legs with a grunt. “Mm. I sent Dopey to get a fridge yesterday. If it isn’t here yet I’ll just kill him.”

Kenna smiled like he was kidding, but The Joker was standing up with a completely serious look on his painted face. She grimaced and followed suit, bending to touch her toes and moaning a little at the soreness that came from sleeping on the floor.

The Joker slipped into his jacket and watched as Kenna straightened up, twisting at her waist and wincing when her back popped. “The old bed burnt down with the house.”

His words made Kenna untwist, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “The house burnt down?”

“Yep.” The Joker popped the ‘p’, like he often did with words that ended with the letter.

“Why?”

Suddenly he looked exasperated with her. “Because some of us are serial arsonists and just enjoy a good house fire occasionally. Are you done with all your damn questions?”

“Have you not murdered someone for a while or something? You’re being a bitch.” returned Kenna without really thinking, crossing her arms indignantly.

The Joker moved quickly, taking two long strides over the mattress and grabbing Kenna by the throat. She gasped when her back hit the wall, pain shooting up her spine and fear spreading in her limbs. Her green eyes opened wide, hands coming up to claw at The Joker’s immobile grip on her windpipe. His face was centimeters from hers, eyes ablaze and mouth in a deep scowl.

“Let’s get something straight, Kenna.” his voice was barely more than a growl, blowing across her face in a clear threat. “Your life is in my hands. Without me, I know of at least six men in this house that would rape you and leave you in a dumpster to die. And if I decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth, all I have to do is flick my wrist…and your precious blood will paint the room red. Understood?”

She hardened her face. The part of her that was staunch and angry at The Joker wanted to spit at him, tell him she didn’t believe that he would let that happen or kill her. But the more sensible part saw the close proximity to The Joker snapping, and retreated.

“Yes.” she grit out, last bit of oxygen escaping. “Now let me go.”

For a moment she thought he was going to hold her there, suffocate her, then his hand was gone and she choked to get air into her lungs. She clutched her neck and coughed, swallowing and feeling like her airway had narrowed, bending over and bracing her hands on her knees. Fury built again now that she was free. The Joker stared down at her, shoulders rising and falling heavily like he was the one that had been choked, not Kenna.

“You’re nothing but a…coward.” as she wheezed out the words she knew it was the wrong thing to do, but she couldn’t stop. “Does it…make you feel…good? Strangling…a woman?”

The Joker didn’t react aggressively like she expected, instead giggling manically at her. “No. Just strangling you.”

“Happy to amuse you.” croaked Kenna, standing up straight and glaring at her captor, still rubbing her throat. “I happen to think that these little displays of hostility are leading up to my death. What do you say to that?”

Another bottomless brown stare.

“I say…let’s go out to dinner, toots.”