Body Count

Although she was free - as free as a bird who had a very slow and dumbstruck lion on her tail, perhaps - and at first she'd relished in being outdoors again, she was starting to become very angry at the constant downpour. Certainly, it hindered her sleeping well enough. It was almost four hours after her latest conversation with The Joker that she finally drifted off into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

Dreams flitted across her subconscious, so fast she could hardly process them: eating birthday cake with Dominic and Riley, while the twins danced a jig in the background; flailing and gyrating drunkenly at a recent school dance; squeezing laboriously through the jail cell bars, almost until she thought her guts would burst from her stomach from being compressed so tightly; shoveling down a single chocolate chip cookie under a leafy green canopy. Strange dreams, true memories, a reality more painful and exciting than her wildest imaginations.

One of these dreams in particular bothered her: a dining room, lit by a beautiful crystal chandelier, with a mahogany table in the center set for two. A couple sat at the table, carefully picking at bits of chicken cordon bleu, smiling at each other warmly. His face, curtained by waves of well-looked-after blond locks, was clean shaven and completely worry-free. Hers, on the other hand, was strained and withdrawn, her dark black curls hanging limp about her shoulders. Her dark eyes stared into his light grey ones, and he became concerned.

"What is it, Dana?" he asked, reaching out to place his work-worn hand over her own pale, bony one.

"Oh, Jess, aren't you worried?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

He chuckled, glancing back down at his mashed potatoes. "You know I'm worried. Of course I'm worried! What sort of father would I be if I wasn't? But come now, you know she's always been a resourceful girl - she'll take care of herself, and when she's decided to come back home, she will. She's run away before."

"Not from the police!" she exclaimed, ripping her hand away from his. "And she's also never committed such a horrible crime before, either! And there you sit, laughing and smiling, as if we hadn't raised such a - such a -"

"Monster?" he whispered, a gentle expression on his face. "That isn't our fault, Dana. She was born with a chemical imbalance. They told us that at her last check-up."

"Normal children shouldn't be having CAT scans during routine doctors' check-ups," she replied quietly, frowning. "People are talking," she said suddenly, gazing rapturously at him. "I hear them in the grocery store. They've noticed she hasn't come home. They watch the news, Jess. It doesn't take a genius to figure out it was her who-"

"So that's what you're worried about?" he snapped, eyebrows furrowed. "What the neighbors think of you?"

"Well, what am I to think?" she retorted, pushing her chair back.

"If you're worried about anything, it's that our daughter survives out there!" he shouted, standing up. His chair fell back and clattered against the wall. To her surprise, his eyes were suddenly overflowing with tears. "Of course I'm worried about her! Of course I lie awake every night, thinking about her! I can't help but seeing horrible things happening to her in my mind, either - starving to death ... attacked by some criminal ... attacking somebody herself! I'm losing my mind, Dana, but not over what people think of me! Over what's happening to my daughter!" He stormed out of the room, leaving the woman to clench her fists and stare at the wall angrily.

Shane woke with a start. It was much darker out now - it must be night time. Finally, she thought. Lying still, she looked around herself: she could see dark pillars of shadow all around her, branching up and away into the dark sky. Among the trees, small, dark shapes crouched around the clearing they were in, swaying gently in a cold breeze. And among the bushes, on the other side of the circle - as far away as possible from her, she thought dismally - was The Joker.

At first glance, he seemed asleep - but as she stared at him endlessly, trying to make out the expression on his face, she noticed two small circles of light on his face: his eyes were open, staring right back at her.

"Oh," she muttered, reaching up to scratch her nose. "You're awake."

Silence.

"Fine," she grumbled, adjusting the jacket that was draped over her. Wait - what?

Her eyes darted down along her body, but she couldn't see her body - she had been covered up by a long, faded purple jacket. She glanced discreetly at The Joker, and noticed he was in nothing but his shirt and vest. He'd covered her up with his jacket.

Deciding to risk some gratitude, she pulled it up under her chin and said, "Thanks."

"Don't waste time apologizing - I did it to shut you up." he said.

She frowned. "I was talking about being cold, wasn't I?" she guessed.

Silence, again.

She sighed heavily. "Sorry. Would you like your jacket, back, then?"

"I'd like a lot of things, Princess. And one of those things is for you to shut your little yap so I can get some sleep," He paused, and she distinctly heard him lick his lips. "And I usually get what I want."

Well, he had a point there.