Slipping Into Entropy - Part 27
Bruce lay exhausted, his mind clear and unfocused. He barely felt the massaging touch at his scalp. His heart was calming though he felt overly warm. Rolling lazily onto his back, letting the other man have his space as well, he wanted to lie there on Batman's desk and not think.
Lethargic for the moment, Joker remained facedown on the desk as he recovered. When his breathing became more regular, he groped sideways, finding Bruce's side and hooking around it, pulling himself closer. Ignoring the white smear he left behind as he slid across the desk, he melded closely to the other man's outline before relaxing again, eyes still shut as he draped an arm and leg over Bruce.
He allowed it, even though he was already overheated. Though not quite like the way they had woken up that morning, it wasn't' unpleasant. Something about the Joker pulling him in such close proximity like this still didn't sit right with Bruce. It was such a contradiction to....to everything that he thought the Joker was, and everything that he thought he, himself, was. But this time, he let it happen. Such thoughts invariably turned toward Alfred and the conversation they'd just had. Bruce closed his eyes. He tried not to think about it, but childishly he still felt jilted. He knew that screwing the Joker out of defiance to that feeling was not good news. He had felt better, forgotten the role he'd adopted and let himself fall back on rebellion for a few minutes. It was like quenching a thirst. Grasping for that control the Joker consistently mocked him for.
As that exhaustion gradually eased, leaving him in control of his body once again, his grip grew more possessive. He knew that he was right - if not on some things, then on the others, the feelings that ran through him like blood, the instincts that controlled him. The future be damned; he never planned for it anyways. It was the present that counted, the present that he continuously dwelled in, and it was in the present that the Bat was his.
He determined, at that moment, that he would do whatever he had to in order to further his claim; not only on body, but mind.
After some time, Bruce rolled back to the Joker and propped himself up. His grip was strong, but accommodated Bruce's movement. He looked down at the Joker for a moment, unable to determine what was running through his mind. The expression he wore could have been anything, his thoughts were a mystery. "Let's get dressed." It was only so long that Bruce could lie strewn naked across a hard desk without needing to move again. He pried himself from the Joker's hands and searched for his missing clothes.
"Why?" Joker shot back playfully, levering himself up to stand uneasily on his feet. He began make a game of tweaking Bruce's tail, catching ahold of him and trying to pull him off balance, snatching a piece of clothing away just before his fingers reached it and capering away with the object dangling tantalizingly from his fingers. It seemed like no matter how much energy was drained away from the man, it was quickly replaced from some demonic, bottomless pool at the core of his being; he just never quit.
Trying to ignore it, Bruce dressed as best he could. "Because," he snatched at the Joker's hands, which were trying to pull that clothing away from him, "I've got work to do." As always, and especially now, Bruce needed to figure out if the police had gathered any more information on him. He wanted to hear what Bachman had told them. That was more of a personal paranoia on his part. There were a million other things he needed to be doing. Like contacting Lucius. Dodging around the Joker and his grabbing hands and flirtatious advances, he righted one of the keyboards that had fallen off the side of the desk and switched on the computer's monitor.
Watching him for a moment, burying himself in screens and data like it was his one lifeline and salvation, Joker quickly became bored. His mood deteriorating just as quickly as it had become playful, the clownish man tugged on the remaining clothes that were laying on the floor, the oversized garments hanging off his thinner frame, making him look more ridiculous than anything else. Rolling up the sleeves and cuffs, he shot Bruce one last resentful look before he started padding silently towards the doorway.
Bruce had checked up on the news, and noted that Lucius had called not less than fourteen times between last night and this morning. On one screen, current news feeds rolled down in a long list, on another a map of the city and surroundings was laid out with key areas pinpointed. "Where are you going?" he called to the Joker. He'd been watching the man out of the corner of his eye while checking up on things. Those things were not going so well out there. The police were searching for them harder than ever before. Yet he kept glancing over, wondering what an enigma the other man in the room was.
His gaze passed from the Joker over the map to the news feed once again, and then.....back to the map. A curiosity that he'd been forced to put aside suddenly resurfaced. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and as if watching through a little camera sitting aboard a satellite, Gotham City zoomed out to a state view, then the entire country, and traveled westward. The view landed over Chicago, Illinois. He stayed on it for a moment, then scanned over the state quickly, finding....nothing. Glancing back to the Joker, Bruce's expression fell a little. One more try at the map took him out of Illinois completely, traveling north of the windy city and landing at a point almost on top of a national wildlife refuge. Kekoskee. Wisconsin, the town that Joker had mentioned in delirium, was in Wisconsin, not Illinois.
"Out." The reply was sharp, flat and emotionless, and then he was gone. Bare feet moving quickly over the cold stone, Joker moved with a purpose, using his senses to feel the flow of the area, small changes in scent. He knew the cave opening had to be close, and he was hungry.
Half rising from the desk, Bruce was about to call out or catch the Joker when he....stopped himself. It was a motion frozen halfway through. The thing was.....that the Joker seemed dedicated to uphold their bargain, and if going "out" was what he wanted to do, then.....under their conditions he should be able to, and Bruce should not have to worry about him turning in Batman. Should. But this was the Joker, deal be damned; the Joker would never be trusted to keep his word. Bruce's chest tightened when he found himself reviewing Alfred's argument. Something had changed about the Joker in the last few days, and Bruce tried to pull it out, unintentionally and unwillingly at first, but now that it was here he felt that it might be proof that something greater existed within this man. He....had agreed that the Joker would not be a prisoner, even when he didn't trust him at all. He gritted his teeth and knew that he could not force him to stay without going back on his word. He hoped the Joker would do the same.
It was a chance that Bruce had to take. He could make no progress if he didn't test the risk. And if the Joker disappeared, if he went out and killed again, if he turned on Batman, then Batman would come after him with a vengeance, all bets off.
Crawling and climbing up to the surface like some monstrosity forgotten in the primeval depths of the earth, Joker squinted at the harsh sunlight, figuring out where he was. It shouldn't have surprised him to see that the entrance to the original batcave was on Wayne Manor's grounds, but it did; that, and the fact that it was so close to the house itself. It was not a logical move, to him. Certainly, one would want to keep one's secrets somewhere close at hand, observable and guardable... but keeping things too close to home was a dangerous bet. It was always the first place people looked when they were on to you.
Moving carefully to avoid the workmen who were now back grinding away at their labors, he slunk from shadow to shadow until he made it to the treeline. Disappearing into the forest, he set about gathering what he needed, quickly stripping bark and twisting strips together. Finding the perfect location, he set things in place and waited.
Bruce watched the Joker go through the grounds monitors until he disappeared into the woods. He had moved with purpose, though Bruce had no idea where he was attempting to go nor why, and the whole thing settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't call Lucius now. He wanted to, but didn't. He couldn't focus any longer.
Moving quietly away through the woods, he left the trap for a bit, scouting the area for other things of interest. The wooded grounds seemed to stretch on for acres and acres. He recognized quite a few of the plants, but it wasn't the season for them to be bearing anything worthwhile. Finding an open patch of dirt to dust himself in, he got rid of his own scent to blend in, then set about forming more traps, setting them as he slowly walked back in a circle towards the first. Passing a stone outcropping, he paused only to strike a few small stones into sharp splinters, tucking the pieces into a pocket.
Back at the manor, the team of carpenters was having to work around a smaller group of plumbers who had been brought in to get the water running after it had been shut down not long ago. It was inconvenient for everybody, especially those who worked the full day shift. Taking an early lunch, or a late breakfast, before the toilet was fixed inevitably led a few of the men out to the woods, though not too far from the house, from time to time. One such person, Jerry Carter, a young man who was new on the job and had been waiting for the plumbers to get out of the bathroom for a good hour, had finally given up and headed out for the trees hoping the regulars wouldn't give him a hard time about it.
He had been lucky - while he had spent his time wandering and setting more snares, he'd caught a prize in his first attempt. Watching the hare dangle from the tree branch, its legs entangled in the woven circle of bark strips, he didn't bother playing with the creature. He was too hungry to want to risk the rabbit falling out and running away. Ignoring the thing's sharp screams as he slunk closer, he twisted its neck with a crunch of bone, fishing out one of the rock pieces from his pocket. Slitting its throat until the head lolled back, he tilted his catch until fresh blood filled his mouth - waste not, want not.
There wasn't much liquid to begin with, hares being so small. Making small nicks in the skin, cutting at strategic points, the skin ripped easily off, bloody fur and messy guts plopping to the ground. Leaning against a nearby tree, Joker nibbled on the exposed meat, working around the bones.
Jerry was looking for an out of the way tree when he heard first heard the cries. From the moment the screech sounded, it couldn't have been mistaken. It sent a strong chill down his spine, and he looked around him quickly for its source, but nothing but twigs and trees and leaves could be made out.
There is a kind of differentness to the woods, for people who have lived in the country and the city alike. The sun was streaming in heavily through the foliage, and the house was not very far away at all. If he listened he could hear hammers pounding away at the top of the hill. But Jerry could make a good estimate at how many acres this forest ran and it was quite a few. Though it should be ridiculous to be nervous standing among the trees and the small animals that inhabit the area in broad daylight, it is actually a very difficult feeling to shake. In the city, a person could walk down the most rundown of neighborhoods in the middle of the night, and though the danger would be far greater than standing in an unpopulated area in the middle of the day, they would still know that the worst thing to happen to them would be to get mugged or kidnapped. In the country, in the woods, he had no idea what was around those trees nor how deep they went. It was irrationally frightening. But he had heard that noise, of some kind of animal dying, and though that shouldn't be so much of a shock, it was.
Deciding that he could wait a little longer for the plumbers, and though he would never admit it if anyone ever asked, that he would rather be back up at the house than down here, he turned on the spot and began making his way quickly toward what he thought was the direction he had come in.
Gnawing at what little was left clinging to the pitiful white skeleton, he finally discarded the last scraps, leaving it for the other scavengers as he picked his way through the trees again, looking to see if any of his other traps had had success. He was beginning to suspect that Bat would forgetfully keep him in a state of neglect whenever he wasn't indulging in his fascination, and he wasn't going to accept that. Years had taught him, if nothing else, how to watch out for himself.
Meanwhile, Jerry was stumbling ever closer to the Joker's location. Moving through the underbrush was difficult at a steady pace, and he found himself tripping every three or four steps. It was growing thicker instead of thinning out and at this point he was suspecting he wasn't headed in the right direction. Branches that he moved snapped back into his face as he passed and progress was frustrating. Listening hard for the sounds of construction that were fairly faint by now wasn't helping. Everyone was probably on lunch anyway. It might be a little while before he could hear the saws and hammers start up again. He was just about to change direction and head back the way he came when his foot caught on something that didn't give like most of the branches he'd tripped over so far.
Slipping quietly through the woods, a ghostly wolf on two legs, his ears perked up when he heard a yelp up ahead. Licking still-bloody lips, he moved forward carefully - the cry hadn't been one of the usual ones, and more sounds were eminating from that direction. Circling around, Joker peered around the tree, finding far bigger prey than he was used to tripped and fallen on the ground, one ankle snared and in the air.
Jerry wasn't sure what on earth had happened to him. Somehow he'd gotten himself stuck in some kind of hunter's trap? Who the hell would be setting up traps on the Wayne property? It wasn't large enough, nor strong enough, to pull him off the ground, but he was stuck halfway upside down until he could get his leg free. He just thanked god it hadn't been a steel clamp. Twisting around several times until he got his bearings, he tried to lift himself off the ground and grab at the chord around his ankle which turned out to be a lot harder than it looked. He could reach it, but couldn't hold that position long enough and get enough slack to get it loose. After several tries, he laid back and rested, slightly out of breath. He could call for help....but he would like to avoid it if possible. This probably wasn't the sort of thing the guys would let him live down within a week. Just as he was getting ready to give it another go, a flicker of movement behind him caught his eye.
An insane grin plastered itself on his face; he just couldn't resist. Slinking out the rest of the way from his hiding spot, coated in dirt and leaves and animal blood, his green eyes shone with malevolent glee. "...looks like I caught another rabbit. Smart rabbits don't scream, do they?" he asked with a purr, crouching down by the fallen man, ready to go for his throat should the man utter a sound.
Jerry went very still suddenly, his mouth falling open slightly. The man crouching above him was like nothing he had ever seen before. He had known of hermits and homeless men sometimes living on the outskirts of the city, in wooded areas, but this guy.... This guy didn't just look like a hermit, he looked like something out of a horror flick. The blood that ran down his front was striking, but Jerry thought the smeared makeup was even more striking. He had long, gnarled scars that ran up the sides of his face, and a river of blood ran down his chin.
He'd lost his voice. Mouth forming words at first with no sound, Jerry had to stop and try again. "W-ho are you?"
"Does that really matter, given your situation?" Joker giggled back, his eyes darting up to the line snaring the worker's leg and back again. "I think the better question would be: What are you doing in my woods?" Batsy couldn't get mad at him for having a bit of fun; that wasn't in their contract, after all. His only stipulation had been not to run away and kill anyone. That put a damper on things, to be sure, but you didn't always have to kill to get the same amount of pleasure.
Trying to swallow back his shock, Jerry had an easier time of finding his voice. "I work, up there," he jerked his head toward the direction of the echoing power tools. In spite of what the man said, it seemed to him that it mattered a great deal who this man was. He looked crazy. And Jerry couldn't tell if all the blood he wore was coming from him, or had come from something else. He mentioned catching rabbits..... Jerry cringed a little. "Look, if you can get me out of this thing, I won't tell anyone you're down here...."
"Oh? And how can I just trust your word that you won't begin regaling your peers with tall tales to impress them? Far easier to make sure you can't tell than to just assume you won't." Ooooh, look at him squirm! "Tell me, little rabbit, where is your burrow? What's to keep you from squealing the moment you're safe in your hole again?"
"What?" Jerry's brows knitted together as he tried to understand what the man - thing - was talking about. "I don't know....what proof I can give you?" He honestly had no intention of reliving this event with anyone, besides never stepping into these woods ever again, plumbing be damned. He had to appeal to what sense this man had, or at least find out if he had any at all. "Do you know who's land this is?" He tried righting himself so that he could get a better look at his captor. "With or without me, you're going to get caught living here."
"Oh, I know very well whose land this is, or I wouldn't be here in the first place. I'm not planning on staying here long enough to get caught, though." Scurrying closer, thoroughly enjoying the look of terror that movement earned, Joker's hand dipped into his pockets, pulling out his wallet and flipping through it. "My, Jerry Carter, what a lovely wife and daughter you have..."
"Hey!" Jerry grabbed for the wallet, but the Joker's hands were too fast. "Don't - Who the hell are you?" Jerry was getting the feeling that he had seriously misjudged his captor somehow. The man's statement had been a threat, no question about it. On closer scrutiny, though the man still looked like he had crawled up out of a hole in the forest, Jerry could see that the clothes he was wearing were once fairly expensive. They were too large for his frame though. He could have stolen them. And that's when it dawned on him that the man he'd come upon was probably not someone who lived in the woods as hermits did. Maybe he just happened to be here.....and....judging from the snare and the references to rabbits.....made what he could out of his situation. This epiphany made him a whole lot more nervous, and though he did his best not to let it show, it was difficult. "What do you want?"
Green eyes flicked up from his perusing of the photos tucked inside the leather case, the scars on either side of his mouth twisting grotesquely as he smiled. "Oh, the same as everyone else. A little fun before I kick the bucket. As to what I suggest, you'd best keep your mouth smartly shut unless you'd like a home visitation for a bit of cosmetic surgery for your whole happy family," he intoned, drawing his fingers up in a curve on either side to indicate his own jagged smile. "Catch." Tossing the wallet back to the snared man, he fished one of the rock pieces out of his pocket, testing the sharp edge on one finger.
Fumbling for the wallet, Jerry held onto it tightly. He felt the need to express to this man that he had nothing to worry about, Jerry didn't want to hear from him ever again. He was the kind of guy who kept his head down and went along with the show. "I won't say anything."
Back inside the cave, Bruce had taken the time to get in a hurried shower and other morning activities as he tried to keep the Joker's whereabouts off of his mind. He called Lucius, who had been getting information from Alfred at various points since the previous night and had quite a few choice things to say to Bruce. He asked to meet in person later, and though, like always, Lucius was nothing less than entirely professional, Bruce could tell he was once again walking the line on Lucius' moral ground. He was grateful that Lucius knew better than to take everything at face value. He would give Bruce the chance to talk to him in person before he made a judgment call.
Bruce spent some time thinking over this. He needed Lucius. He needed Alfred. ....there were many capable men in the company, many trustworthy men, and though he may not be able to confide in them what he had done with Lucius, he knew that he could take care of Wayne Enterprises if Lucius left. ....Alfred was....a rock he could always come back to. Really the only person who knew close to every aspect of his life, and that sure was saying something. Alfred did a lot for him. He was a friend. When all the cards were on the table, Bruce knew he didn't need either of them to live, work, and maintain his goals. But he didn't want to let them go. Batman would be able to do it. Batman could work completely alone, wherever he was with whatever he had. But underneath it all, it was Bruce Wayne who was playing Batman. He resolved to meet Lucius, as they planned, and hope for the best. When he couldn't keep the burning, itching, nagging question about what the Joker was up to out of his mind any longer, Bruce finally brought up the tracking system they'd created to follow the device in the Joker's neck. It was a mild surprise that he hadn't gone that far at all. A good distance away from the cave and Wayne Manor, but still well within Bruce's property. It should have made sense, after all he didn't have his own transportation. Though, it wouldn't have been hard for him to steal a car. Bruce found that he was simply coming to expect these things from the madman.
"You'd better not," he answered back in a light sing-song, eying the cord twined about the man's ankle before slashing at it suddenly, sawing through it with violent, hacking motions. The makeshift twine snapped, leaving the worker on the ground. Leering over him, Joker grinned, the jagged rock still prominent in his hand. "I believe this is the part where you start running."
Unsure whether the garish looking man was seriously letting him go, or simply teasing him, Jerry paused for only a moment. He decided he'd be better off taking his chance, and got up from the ground, backing off quickly from the sharp point in the man's hand and took off through the trees toward the sound of the workers once he was a good distance away. He kept looking over his shoulder to see if he was being pursued, and once or twice he nearly tripped himself up. It took him forever to reach the edge of the trees, and once he was out, he didn't stop. In fact, he nearly ran headlong into Bruce Wayne, who was coming down the long hill at a regular pace. Alarmed as he was, Jerry didn't stick around long enough to apologize, nor even supply a warning. He simply stumbled over his own feet after Bruce righted him, giving him a split second look of confusion and then concern, and then took off the rest of the way up the hill.
Tangling the remains of the snare between his fingers, playing with the loop, Joker chuckled to himself. The man had nearly peed himself several times over during his brief capture, despite the fact he hadn't put a scratch on him. Sighing at having ended the game so soon and bloodlessly, the madman walked toward the next snare, still hungry despite his earlier catch; rabbits didn't have much on them.
After a few more minutes, he managed to find another hare tangled in one of the snares. Plucking it out of the trap, he let this one scream for longer than the first, the sound easing a bit of his frustration at having had to let the other man go. Making another incision, another bloody libation was downed before moving on to strip the carcass.
Bruce heard the sound echo through the trees clearly. It did startle him at first, but unlike Jerry, he recognized it. For a moment, he was transported back in the Himalayas. He moved in further, quietly as he could manage, until he came upon the Joker. His back turned away from Bruce, but he could see a small trail of blood painted on the ground.
Discarding what he found inedible (or didn't care to eat, given that he had that luxury at the moment), Joker started on his second course, wondering idly if that worker had ignored his warning and started spreading tales among the rest of the crew. If they came searching the woods for him, they wouldn't find him; unless you were the right sort of person or had training, humans made a great deal of noise when traveling in woodlands. He would hear them long before they came close to finding him.
Unable to reach another strip of meat with his teeth, Joker pulled on a stripped leg bone until it came off with a crack, the sinew snapping. The cleared space made it easier, and he was going to resume his breakfast before a small sound caught his ears. ...behind... Listening intently, Joker turned and peered over his shoulder to try to find the source, bright blood dripping from his mouth down his chin.
Bruce moved into the clearing though he felt like he should have been rooted to the spot where he stood. A look somewhere between distaste and incomprehension graced his expression. Truly, he was shocked. The Joker looked as mad as he had when he'd donned a dead man's bones and dug Bruce's own mother from her grave, but that had been for a reason, for the impact, to get to Bruce. This was..... Bruce's eyes took in the scene from the ground up. There was no reason for this. He beheld the Joker calmly, in spite of his confusion and slight repulsion. "What are you doing?"
Joker, in turn, regarded Bruce with an incredulous look, as if he'd just been asked why breathing was necessary. "...what does it look like? You weren't providing food, or much of anything. I'm not going to wait around and starve." Leaning back against a nearby tree trunk, the clown resumed eating without a care, more relaxed now that he'd found the source of the noise. You know, before all of this, I actually thought the Bat was sharp...
Now Bruce let his revulsion show through. He stalked up to the Joker, snatched the dead animal from his hands, and threw it to the ground, barely restraining from hitting the man afterward. He couldn't believe it. Obviously it wasn't that much of a stretch for the madman to behave in this way, but it bothered Bruce greatly. "You could have just asked."
Growling in frustration at having his work thrown away like that, he bared bloodstained teeth at the taller man. "And since when do you give in and do what I ask of you? You pick fights and struggle against every little thing. Obviously you care more about indirect blood on your hands and fun in bed than whether I'm actually getting what I need. If that's the way you're going to play it, far be it for me to stop you. I've survived this long on my own. I don't need to beg food or anything else from you."
Bruce went blank.
He tried to take the Joker seriously, he really did, but he just couldn't hold the laughter that had started to pour out of his mouth. He couldn't even tell what was so funny. The irony? Or the Joker's reasoning? All he knew was that in the face of the madman's misguided petulance, his own anger disintegrated. "Have you.....have you even tried? Or did you come to this conclusion all on your own?" he asked, still laughing here and there, eyebrows raised.
It was like some bizarre force had superimposed their personalities onto each other. As Bruce started laughing, Joker became absolutely livid, snarling at the taller man as he quivered in rage. Drawing in a deep breath, looking like he was about to reply, his expression flickered for a moment before he changed his mind, suddenly throwing his weight into a fist aimed at Bruce's cheek.
Bruce stepped back, the blow caught him, but just barely. His head snapped to the side at the glance, but he kept his footing and had righted himself a moment later. The humor evaporated. Taking in the Joker's bristling posture with a cold temper of his own, Bruce finally considered the Joker seriously. "We're going on a trip," he said flatly; it wasn't a request. "There will be food on the way." He curled his lip and regarded the other man from head to toe, adding an afterthought, "I'm not touching you until you clean up."
Grinning in spite, he cackled at the other man; the sound came out forced and just as frigid. "Make me," he hissed, turning and striding off through the trees without a backwards glance at the Bat. He had nothing in mind other than rebellion for rebellion's sake, proving somehow that he couldn't be controlled.
"You might just be interested in this one, Joker!" Bruce called after him. "When was the last time you saw Chicago?" He waited, watching the Joker's retreating back. "I will make you, if you insist."
The look he shot back over his shoulder almost wasn't human; it was the resentful glare of an animal itching to challenge the pack leader. With that, Joker took off, charging deeper into the woods as fast as he was able.
"What's the matter? Don't want to visit your old backyard?" Bruce raised his voice. The Joker hadn't been paying attention; he looked determined to run. "Fuck." Bruce swore to the ground, noticed the rabbit lying there in mockery of his attempts to appeal to the madman's humanity, or even curiosity. He kicked it out of the way, and with one last glance in the Joker's direction, he headed in the opposite. Let the madman be damned, Bruce was leaving, with or without him.
A thought took hold, causing Joker to pause, stop, then head in a completely different direction; he could faintly hear the sounds in the distance. Perhaps he couldn't beat Bat right now in a full-out brawl, but he could certainly strike in another place that mattered. His chest burned, but he ignored it, his senses narrowing in on the noises of construction a ways ahead.
A/N: Again, sorry for the pause. I'm busy packing up everything for MY move, now, along with preparing for Halloween. And I've been given permission to dress as I please on Halloween at work. OMG YES. <3
Saturday is the big moving day. When I get my new improved internet, I shall upload (or reupload, in some cases?) more goodies for you guys. Including the neglected, unfinished soundtrack uploads. Because 20 kbps is just too painful.