Crossroads

Hayley let out a frustrated huff between clenched teeth, fingers tap tap tapping against her steering wheel. It was much, much too early to set off - the sun was still setting, dark red congealing over the dim grey sky. Time seemed to be dribbling by awfully slow, almost mockingly so. But, as well as being impatient, she also wanted to get away from Kyle. So, here she sat, teeth clenched, bristling with irritation as she waited for the cool darkness to settle in.

There was a knock against the window.

The handle was stiff, so she rolled the window down with violent, jerky motions, eyes not leaving her steering wheel and posture still just as rigid.

"What?"

"I can't let you go out there by yourself." he sighed, resting his crossed arms against the open window.

"You seemed pretty happy to do that a few minutes ago."

"I was angry. You expected me to just - just blindly help you without telling me why you were doing this."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" she began rapping her fingers against the steering wheel again, trying to cast out the same old image that had been taunting her for weeks. "You're just going to have to trust me on this."

Throwing his own words back into his face. Ha.

Kyle realized what she had done and sighed, exsasperated.

"Will you at least tell me how you magically discovered where the Joker's hideout is, one that Batman hasn't even found yet?" Kyle leaned forward, voice lowering as the intensity in his voice grew.

Hayley reluctantly ripped her eyes away from her dashboard, jaw clenched and brows furrowed like a stubborn child. She didn't really want to make eye contact with him, but she forced herself to do it anyway.

"I don't know. There was this guy called Travis. I gave him, 150 dollars - I think. And he just told me." She shrugged. "I'm going now, so you can either stop hanging off my car and let me go, or you can join me."

She couldn't wait any longer. The sun had sunk down low enough so that only a small crescent of light could be seen. That was good enough for her; by the time she reached the docks it would probably be twilight.

Kyle mulled it over for a few moments - a few moments too long for her, so she revved her engine, egging him on. She knew she wasn't being particularly fair to him, but who fucking cared at that point?

Shooting her a glare, he shuffled over to the other side of the car, swinging the door open and hopping inside. "I guess if you died, I'd feel pretty guilty. Let's go."

"Such great logic." despite the sarcasm lacing her tone, her next words were genuine; "I'm glad."

"Yeah, me too."



As her crummy little car coughed and wheezed into the docks, Hayley felt an inescapable terror grip her. It wasn't the regular death-fearing, joker-fearing terror that she expected. But she felt like something big was going to happen, something that now was completely out of her control. She had set off the steamroller, and it fucking petrified her.

"Hayley? What's wrong?"

Might as well roll with it. If she couldn't change it, she would make the best out of it.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." she offered him a fleeting smile. "Let's go."

Just as she had predicted, it was twilight; the sky, fittingly enough, was a pale violet, bruised with black clouds. At least she felt more at ease, now that it was dark. Sucking in a reassuring breath, she grabbed the duffel bag from under her seat and hoisted it over her shoulder, flinching slightly when the thick strap dug into her shoulder.

"So, what's the plan?"

"The place used to be a hospital. I say we split up -"

"Woah woah woah, already a bad idea -"

"- and search the place." she zipped open the heavy bag and drew out a shotgun, casually throwing it at him.

"Are you some sort of terrorist?"

"No, just cautious." she rolled her eyes, stuffing a slightly smaller gun into the pocket of her jeans. "Follow me, I'll show you where it is."

She wasn't quite sure why, but Kyle chuckled under his breath at that. She dismissed it, marching ahead towards the dilapidated building and expecting him to follow.

"I don't think anyone's home." he peered at the blacked-out windows, tilting his head to one side as if thinking deeply about something. "What do we do if they're not here?"

"We either wait for them to come back, or blow the place up. I'm leaning more towards the second one."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." before Kyle could retort, or perhaps call her out on being a reckless idiot, Hayley shoved the front open.

It opened easily, albeit with a painful screech that made her eardrums want to curl up and die. She stepped across the threshold hesitantly, eyes flickering about for any signs of life. There was none, not on this floor at least.

"Okay, Kyle. You check the second floor. I'll check the third."

"No purple and green interior decorating, no bodies lining the floor. This doesn't really seem like the Joker's crib." Kyle was silenced as Hayley pointed a couple feet away from them, where a playing card lay, half bent on the floor. It was the bent the wrong way, but she was pretty sure that it was his card.

"Okay, you got me there. But, Hayley -" she was already heading upstairs, and he whispered harshly after her; "I don't like the look of this!"

"Meet you in a couple of minutes, Kyle." she whispered back, before disappearing up the next flight of stairs, onto the third floor.

She never listens. he sighed, carefully climbing up the stairs with shotgun held tightly in both hands.



This place certainly didn't look like a hospital.

Over a decade of neglect had eradicated the sterile, detached nature of a hospital; the place had faded into obscurity, as pitiful and decaying as every other abandoned warehouse cluttering the docks. Even the banister was damp and spongy with moss. Despite her slight disgust, Hayley clenched the rotting banister as if it were her lifeline. Although there was an underlying eagerness to finally face the Joker, she was still anxious - twisting the barrel of the gun in sweat-slicked hands (safety off, of course - she wasn't insane).

The hallway was dark, silent - there was a tension hanging thick in the air, like the rainclouds she had seen earlier. It was slightly suffocating, and yet Hayley didn't dare to break the tension with a single noise - didn't even dare to breathe.

The hallway was littered with doors, and she padded over to the nearest one as noiselessly as possible, creaking it open and tentatively peering inside. Nothing. Just a small hospital bed, sheets yellowed and air thickly lined with dust. She stifled the cough rising from her chest, backing out of the room and investigating all the other ones.

Her imminent fear began to ebb away as she reached the last scattering of doors - her footsteps grew louder, as did her disappointment. She was going to find Travis and break his fucking nose.

"150 dollars. I could have bought some new clothes, maybe a nicer couch. But no, instead I gave it to a pissy man bordering on the verge of senility." Hayley kicked open the next door with all the anger furled up inside her. "Oh look, nothing. What a -"

She hated God sometimes. No - maybe it wasn't fair to blame God. This irony was all up to her own stupidity. Because, surprise surprise, there was actually someone in that room. And that special someone had just kicked her gun and duffel bag across the room, rendering her completely defenseless. Cold, clammy hands twisted her arms behind her back, and with a hiss of pain she fell to her knees.

"See? Boss said she would show up." his voice was spilling over with pride. Smug bastard. "He'll be happy to see I captured her."

Kid, take my advice. He's the eyes and ears of this city. Probably already knows you're looking for him.

"Yeah, maybe he won't gut you like he did to your friend."

"Fuck you, Nathan."

Hayley snorted at that. At least she was at the mercy of someone with a sense of humour. Of course, she wasn't going to go down that easy. Her mind ticked and whirred as the two goons argued amongst themselves, but nothing came to mind. So, as the human mind usually does, she boiled it all down to pure instinct. She opened her mouth and shrieked.

"What the fuck?" The goon clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling her scream; but leaving only one hand gripping her wrists. With a quick twist she was free, scampering across the wooden floorboards. She snatched up the gun, swung it round to face them, and pulled the trigger. Nothing came out.

Fuck. Her safety was on.

Bang.

Hayley yelped, staggering back by the pure force of the bullet buried in her arm. There was a brief few seconds of numbness, before the pain crashed down all around her. She screamed for real this time, vision blurring and doubling as tears sprang to her eyes. Two clown masked swayed and blended together in a revolting splash of orange and purple and yellow, encompassing more and more of her vision as the goons slowly, languidly made their way towards her. Assured and smug.

Passing the gun to her other hand, Hayley flicked off the safety, raised her gun and fired twice. It was messy, and didn't hit one clean in the head like she had planned. They both crumpled to the floor, one limp and lifeless and the other, more unfortunate goon clutching at his stomach with blood-stained gloves, thick dark blood dripping out of slightly parted lips. It was a shame. That guy was the funny one.

Hayley staggered over to where her duffel bag lay, staring at it almost wistfully. She knew that she wouldn't be able to bring it home with her. The strain would be too much on her arm - which was bleeding quite profusely. Lips pressed into a thin line, she unhooked the strap for the duffel bag, knotting it tightly over her bullet wound. It wasn't a professional tourniquet, but it would have to do.

She whimpered slightly as the pain ebbed away, only to burst back into existence with a white-hot intensity. The investigation was over for now. Just blow the place up, and walk away. It was disappointing, but it would send a message at least. Fumbling in the bag, she withdrew a bundle of dynamite and her lighter, which she shoved hastily into her pocket.

At that point she was facing the door, so it didn't shock her too much when Kyle came barreling through the doorway, panting heavily.

"I heard a gunshot, and - fuck, your arm!"

"Yep. Come on, I need to get out of here."

"What about the Joker?"

"I'm bleeding out right now. Fuck the Joker. I killed two of his men, and I'm about to blow up his warehouse." she shuffled over to the doorway, smiling gratefully when Kyle wrapped a supporting arm around her waist. "I'll just have to go looking for him later."

"D'you want me to light that?" he nodded towards the dynamite cradled in her arms.

"Yup, please." she drew out the lighter and handed it to him, slipping out of his grip and beginning to make her way downstairs. "Just make a trail of them. Like Hansel and Gretel."

"I think the bloodloss is making you delirious." he lit one dynamite stick with a small fizz, chucking it into the nearest room, expression anxious. "We're probably gonna have to run now."

And so they did, the only footprints left behind being half-lit dynamite sticks.