Body Count

With a greater effort than Shane thought she'd have to exert, she hauled herself to her feet and stumbled against the bar. The air was ringing with the foreboding sounds of the men outside shouting orders and yes-sirs, and inside the club on the silver dance floor the air was musty and dry with anticipation. She shook her head nervously, trying to shake away the blurriness that was threatening to spread across her vision and render her effectively blind. Unlike in the books she'd loved to read during those long summer days and rainy weekends, she did not spring up and ready herself for the upcoming fight. Her body was not suddenly alert of all possible dangers and escape routes. She did not crouch low, snarling at the doorway, fists clenched. No. Instead, she leaned limply against the smooth bar, breathing heavily, wondering why the injuries and abrasions all over her body, dripping blood down her arms and her face, did not hurt more - but she was also grateful for the lack of pain.

A great choking cough escaped her constricted throat, and a stream of red issued forth from her gullet. It splashed against the counter, creating a grotesque splatter on the rich wood. She shivered - she knew the building was very well heated, but a menacing cold was creeping through her bones.

Meanwhile, The Joker hadn't moved. Unlike her, he was standing with his fingers curled into fists, glaring towards the men outside. Shane glanced back at him and shuddered - no matter how many men they had, she thought, they should be afraid to face him in hand-to-hand combat.

Knowing she had little time to think - and that thinking itself would be hard in her state - she propped herself up on one elbow and shut her eyes tight.

Before she could do anything to stop it, a flood of images nearly a month old flashed before her lidded eyes, and she grunted in an attempt to stem the flow. She saw her friends and other clowns fighting off a squad of heavily armed men, and she banged her fist on the table when she thought that she'd be putting them through that again this time.

Suddenly, a dull, constant thudding reached her ears, along with a rough voice. Her eyes shot open.

"Open up in there!" the voice commanded. "We know you're in there!"

She risked another glance back at The Joker. He didn't move, so nor did she. The cop continued to pound on the door, shouting to let them in.

A flurry of footsteps echoed down the stairs, and Shane saw a storm of men - most of them pulling on masks and favoring their weapons - rush onto the first floor. Daemyn was prominent among them, and with one final sidelong look at the man behind her, Shane hobbled forward and relaxed forwards into his open arms.

"What did he do to you?" Daemyn whispered, his face close to her hair, holding her protectively. "Beat you with a metal bat?"

"Close enough," Shane muttered. "Did you see the police from upstairs?"

"I didn't," he said, sighing heavily. "Ty saw them from his room and told everybody else. It didn't take very long for everybody to have a gun in their hand. We're lucky there are so many brave people here."

Shane laughed shakily. "Yeah, we have the luck of the Irish on our side."

"Actually, I'm Scottish."

They both laughed quietly. Around them, men were milling around restlessly, exchanging meaningless banter with their comrades and shooting furtive looks at the door, which the cops were now battering in. Shane was impressed by how strong the entrance was, but she wasn't very comforted. It wouldn't be long before they broke through.

"Listen," Daemyn said after a while. "You've got every man in this club fighting for your freedom. Those are good odds. And I don't think any of them are willing to see a young girl taken away by those ... those men out there."

Shane shrugged. "I don't think Odie would be too disappointed."

Daemyn pushed her away slightly, but kept his grip on her. "You should hear him talk about you when you're not around."

She blinked in surprise, brushing away the trickle of blood that ran down into her scar. "What does he say?"

He smiled crookedly. "He tries to hide it by saying you're annoying and you're a nuisance, but a lot of the time he's almost as violently protective of you as The Joker is."

"Was," Shane corrected. "But that's besides the point. What exactly does he say?"

"Well ... he likes to bash the cops a lot. He says they're just greedy bastards who want their extra pay for capturing and publicly arresting a teenage girl. He says no matter how bratty you are, you shouldn't be condemned so quickly."

Shane peered over Daemyn's shoulder at Odie, who was busy giving whispered orders to another clown and simultaneously twirling a gun from hand to hand. He appeared to feel her gaze, because he looked over suddenly. Instead of scowling, as he usually did, he nodded and turned back to the clown.

"Wow," Shane said. "And to think I wanted to stab him at one point."

Daemyn nodded mutely, before continuing, "Shane, I know you're worried. And of course, there's a reason to be worried - but not as much as I think you are. There are a lot of good men here. And me. Do you think, after the first time, I'd let anything happen to you?"

That, more than anything, helped to calm Shane's nerves. "No," she muttered, blinking away another droplet of blood. "I don't think you would."

There was a great crunching, and everybody whipped around to face the door. There was a long, jagged crack in it now, and a slit of light illuminated a small strip of the floor. They were almost in.

"Shane," Daemyn said hurriedly. "I want you to know something, and don't you dare forget it while this happens. Promise me, okay?"

Shane nodded, her head starting to throb with delayed pain. "I promise."

"I love you," he said, staring straight into her eyes. "And I will no matter what goes down today. You gave my life a purpose again - at first, it was only to protect the latest victim of The Joker. After a while, though, my purpose turned into being able to have time with you, because that was the only happy part of my life. Like I've said before, you're probably the most hopelessly bad-luck-ridden little sister I ever could have hoped for, but I love you and I'll do anything today to protect you."

Shane choked, holding back the tears that were sure to come. "I love you too," she said, thinking suddenly of the little brother she'd lost, reminded of his caring disposition and his positive attitude. She thought, for one wildly blissful moment, that Matty had come back to her in the form of Daemyn to protect her. She gulped. "Don't get yourself killed, please."

Daemyn rolled his eyes, although she noticed how they shone with tears that were fought back, just as hers were. "I won't."

An ear-splitting rending of wood made Shane grimace and clench her teeth together, and suddenly there was no time for goodbyes. Daemyn was hurtling towards the door, gun raised, to join the ranks of clowns that met the onslaught of cops.

The police, Shane noticed, seemed taken aback by the force they were met with. They obviously hadn't expected a defense to be prepared against them. They kept their cool, though, and were quickly issuing orders to the clowns while waving their weapons towards them.

The crowd in the bar was so immense and bustling, Shane rapidly lost track of where she was or who it was that was pushing her behind the counter and out of sight. Several more clowns took the place of those who moved forward, and all she could see were their backs.

The soundtrack to the next few hours wasn't a pleasant one. Once the cops realized the clowns were not going to submit, they opened fire. Gunshots rang in her ears, leaving a constant buzz on her eardrums. Despite the clowns efforts to hide her, a group of blue-clad men eventually found her in the tumult, and she was forced to fight them off. She wasn't alone, though - faster than blinking, Will and Stone had been by her side, and along with them they slaughtered their way to a less crowded area of the bar, obscured by a wooden partition and several wooden beams. They spoke briefly, and then they were back on the floor, trying hard to hold the cops off.

Shane saw, early on, that their fight was long lost. Their numbers were great on The Joker's side - her side, she thought - but the cops called reinforcements, and after that, clowns slowly started to drop to the floor. Shane, who refused to be useless, hacked away at cops who were about to finish off her comrades - a cowardly thing to do, but she wouldn't stand by and watch these men die.

Just as she was slicing through the neck of one such cop, a breathtaking blow to her lower spine forced her to her knees. All oxygen escaped her cracked and bleeding lips. Her arms - bruised, bleeding, and throbbing - shot out in order to halt her fall, and her legs - equally afflicted, if not more so - grew numb. She trembled - had her assailant paralyzed her?

The block in her mind against pain was growing thin, and she could suddenly feel large points of pain all over her torso and her head. Everything throbbed, and the hot feeling of blood brought tears to her eyes and made sweat drip down her neck. The ridge on the back of her broken hand was actually open and bleeding, as was the scar on her cheek and the gash on her shoulder.

And then she blinked. The air she felt on her skin was different, and the ringing in her ears was louder than before. She opened her eyes - realizing through that that they had been closed - and was terrified to see the backs of dozens of policemen. She herself was being half-dragged half-carried to a squadron of police cruisers. Frightened, she began to kick and scream, trying in vain to get back to the fight she could still see happening at the front door of the club.

"Wait!" she screamed, tears mingling with the blood on her cheeks. "Wait! Daemyn! Joker! DAEMYN!"

The cops ignored her, throwing her into the back of one of the cruisers.

"Retreat!" one of the blue-clothed men shouted. "We've got the girl! Back off! Get the hell out of there, now!"

Shane shook her head, banging on the glass and screaming at the cops. Why wouldn't they listen? She had to go back, she had to make things right, she had to escape! Why wouldn't The Joker come for her?

As she watched, the cops filtered out of the club, their guns directed at the fuming clowns. Shane banged on the window, and they all stared at her. But none of them moved.

"Help me!" she screamed, tears pouring down her face, her stomach roiling with fear and terror. "Why won't any of you HELP ME?"

Just then, a gust of cold air rushed in. And then the front door slammed shut again. The engine roared, and sirens wailed above her head. The other cops, too, were getting into cars and driving away. The car lurched all around her.

Shane, her fists still pressed against the cool glass, slumped against the back of the seat. She stared, horrified, as the club grew slowly smaller and more distant. Her heart slowed until she thought, without caring, that it might stop altogether. She was caught. It was all over - they were taking her away, and her life would end when the car stopped.

Just as her eyes were about to droop shut, her body resigning itself to its' fate, the door to the club burst open. They were still close enough for Shane to see who it was, but they were speeding up already, and the man stopped running almost as soon as he started.

Shane screamed when she saw him, banging her fists against the back window with renewed vigor and madness. Not now, not after everything, could he possibly do this to her.

The Joker was screaming after the car, his hands tearing at his lank, greasy hair, his mask gone with the last remnants of his sanity. Shane screamed as she watched him scream, shouting after her, his mouth wide open with a roar of fury that shook even the window of their cruiser, so far away. She shook her head wildly, disbelievingly, as she saw his face-paint start to run with tears.

'He cares!' she thought violently, refusing to let the thought form fully. 'Now, after everything that's happened, he cares!'

She screamed even louder.

It took her a moment to realize, over the thrum of the engine and her own cries, that a sharp breeze was hitting her back. The front window was open, barely a crack, but it was enough to let in his bellowing.

"SHANE!" he was screaming. She banged the window again, wishing it would break, wishing she could fall through and run back to him. "SHANE! NO! DON'T TAKE HER FROM ME!"

With one last, agonized cry, Shane's mind and body became overwhelmed, and everything went black.