Give Me a Smile

Still, I had forgotten about him by the next day. Joker was in a good mood, chatting while he danced around the attic, carving his name into things. He seemed to have a thing for leaving his name places.
I was beginning to see ‘Joker’ written everywhere-on street signs, in graffiti, scratched into the sides of buildings. Whenever I pointed one out he would laugh and pat my head, tell me I was clever. It made me smile.
When he was done scrawling ‘Joker’ on the broken television he turned to me with a grin. “Quinnie! Guess what we’re doing today!” “Uh, blowing something up?” He laughed. “No! We’re visiting Ivy and Scarecrow.”
He twisted his hands together and licked his lips, pushing his face close to mine. “The Wolf is close, Quinn. We’re so, ha!, so damn close. The Wolf will be dead soon, and then, hoo!, we’ll have fun!” I nodded and backed up, rubbing the buttons of my jacket. It had become a nervous habit.

Joker grabbed my hands and tugged me to him. I winced, expecting the sting of his knife, but all he did was wrap a blindfold around my head. “What are you doing?” I could feel his warm hands on my shoulders as he steered me forward.
“We’re going to visit Scarecrow’s house,” he whispered, “and he doesn’t trust you enough to show you the way.” I flinched and tried to turn back, take the blindfold off, anything to get away from Scarecrow.
Joker held my wrists together, easily keeping me still. My heart was beating painfully fast and I screamed, lashing out at Joker with my legs. He grunted and hit me upside the head, hard enough that I staggered back. I tripped over something and landed on my bum. The ground under me felt like it might be cement, cool and slightly damp.
I could hear the tap of Joker’s footsteps coming towards me. “Shut up, Quinn,” he murmured, gagging my mouth and tying my legs together. I was helpless. “If you had been a good girl, you could’ve walked there,” he said, hauling me over his shoulder. Talking through the gag was impossible, so I didn’t try.
It felt like a very long time before he set me down on my feet with a stern, “Don’t move, Quinn.” I waited patiently until he came back and untied me. “Alright, come on.” We were somewhere dark, probably underground. I thought it looked like a sewer, but the entire place was dry, almost sterile. Bottles lined the walls, filled with liquids I couldn’t identify.

It was dim, only just bright enough for me to see. There were used syringes scattered across the floor, crunching when I stepped on them. I shuddered. Scarecrow’s lair. I was where Scarecrow lived, where he performed his fear experiments. His bed was in the corner. Poison Ivy was lounging on it, long legs dangling over the edge.
Scarecrow sat by her. She yawned and stretched, brushing his chest. He blinked and coughed, tugging at his collar. Poison Ivy sat up and smiled at us. She blew me a kiss, wafting the smell of flowers through the room. “Joker. Smiley. Even better news than last time.” Joker sat casually at her feet, scratching idly into the bed frame. Scarecrow cleared his throat.
“Ahem. Joker. What did I say about damaging my home? You may move to a new place every few weeks, but some of us prefer to stay in one safe, undamaged spot.” Joker laughed and tossed the knife up, catching it between his palms.
I looked around and decided that Scarecrow’s place was creepier than Poison Ivy’s. She may’ve had plants that moved, but Scarecrow’s lair was too clean. I had heard the rumors, that he was a doctor at Arkham who went mad, used his knowledge of the mind and chemicals to create his persona, but I had never really believed them.
It sounded more like a myth than the truth. I believed it now. No one but a doctor would have labeled every single mixture by its elements. I knew I was right when I noticed a framed certificate on the wall-a doctor’s license. It was stained and wrinkled. The Hippocratic Oath had been scratched out, leaving behind only the word ‘harm’. Scary.
I was thankful when Poison Ivy clapped impatiently. “Ahem. Boys, I believe we’re here to discuss killing the Wolf. Or to go out and kill the Wolf.” She leered. “Either one is good.” Joker smiled and nodded. “You have news, Ivy?” She smiled slightly, lacing her fingers together. “My flowers have found the Wolf.”
Poison Ivy closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, smiling. “I can sense it right now.” “Well? Where is the Wolf?” Joker snapped, cutting the pads of his fingers. Blood dripped down his palms, but he just licked it off. The room was edgy, violent. Poison Ivy was caressing her plants, hissing comments to them, and Scarecrow was filling his needles with a lumpy yellow liquid.

“The Wolf messed up. Picked a flower.” She sighed sadly and put a hand to her heart. “Poor little plant. Anywho, the Wolf brought it home. The plant recognized Wolf’s touch and cried out for me, for peace. It still is.” She sniffed, and I’m pretty sure she wiped away tears. “I’m sure that’s where the Wolf is. Probably would’ve kept it. It is...” She winced. “It was a very beautiful flower.”
Scarecrow tapped his needles anxiously against the floor, making me flinch and move closer to Joker. “Well, where is he?” “Or her,” Poison Ivy said sternly. “We still don’t know gender. The Wolf is in Gotham, at the heart of the city. It’s living in Wayne Apartments, the older rooms.” Joker whistled. “My my, those are expensive. Looks like, ha!, Doggy has money to spare.”

Poison Ivy nodded, then leaned closer to the men. “Are we ready to attack, boys?” Scarecrow clicked his syringes together and nodded. “I have all my toxins.” Joker giggled and opened his hands, showing off his knives before patting his jacket. “I’ve got all my little...tricks.” That explained why his jacket had been rattling. They’d come prepared for this.
She smiled and stood, strolling over to the exit. “Shall we attack now, while the element of surprise is there?” “Of course. Lead the way, Ivy,” Joker said, blindfolding me again. “Is your...pet coming along, Joker?” Scarecrow sneered. I stiffened. His voice was different.

He had to be wearing the hood. The mask. The hand full of needles. The laughter that still haunted my dreams. I would never forget it. Joker just chuckled, pushing me forward. “Now, be nice to Quinnie. She’s one of us now. Ivy even gave her a nickname!” Scarecrow didn’t respond.