For Laughs - Batman/Criminal Minds - Chapter 1 - 2/17
Title: For Laughs
Fandom: Batman (Nolan universe, mostly)/Criminal Minds
Links: Prologue
Rating: T (overall), but ventures into M
Warnings: Joker-level violence, serial killer activities
Summary: If the BAU wants to catch the Joker, they'll need to profile the Batman. But will all of the team survive to close the case? Gen fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any related characters in the franchise, nor do I own the television show Criminal Minds. Written for fun and sick kicks, not profit. Additional notes in Prologue.
Chapter 1
There and Back Again, A Madman's Tale
Commissioner James Gordon let the phone drop from his fingers, Mayor Garcia's final words ringing through his ears: "Jim, fix this. Now." Like so many politicians before him, Anthony Garcia had a statement and no solution. Gordon found himself staring at the files in front of him, the words a blur before his framed eyes. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his graying hair.
There was no way around this. Not this time.
The Gotham City Police Department didn't ask for help. Not from vigilantes, and sure as hell, not from the damn Feds. But Gordon had broken that first rule more than once, had a damned spotlight for the occasion, and it looked like he was going to break the second as well. And not by choice.
The Joker. Damn it if the Joker hadn't cut his way into Jim Gordon's life one too many times. Now, escaped for only a day, he'd taken another, perhaps unintentional, stab at Gordon himself. The Joker had crossed state borders. That wasn't the issue. A tired part of the commissioner had almost hoped the madman had given up his hard-on for Gotham, but no such luck. Joker had returned. To Gotham. Shot a bystander in line for a wedding dress sale. Shot her. Such a haphazard, less-than-theatrical move that Jim wouldn't have believed it if a security camera hadn't caught him.
Almost as if the Joker was simply announcing his return with the random act of violence.
Gordon shook his head, feeling his headache intensify. The return, that was where the commissioner had found himself in a bind. Again. Because of the Joker.
State borders crossed, the FBI would be making the GCPD their love nest within hours. Then the shit would really hit the fan. Of course, there was another option, one he'd mentioned to Mayor Garcia as a last resort.
Gordon pulled a card from his top drawer and picked up the phone.
The other choice was calling in the FBI himself. The right people, someone he knew. Someone who might not crucify him when it came down to the GCPD's piss-poor track record and their lack of enthusiasm in discovering the identity of a certain masked man who wasn't on the city's pay role.
He dialed the number, taking a steadying breath before a voice greeted him.
"Hello," he cleared his throat, "I'm Commissioner James Gordon of the Gotham City Police Department in New York. I'm a friend of Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan. . ."
Gordon winced, hearing the woman's follow-up question as an accusation. "Yes," he confirmed, "about the Joker."
Emily Prentiss closed her eyes, barely able to swallow the hot syrup pouring over her tongue. She collected herself, refusing to choke, and cleared her throat once the liquid sugar had been devoured. Cringing, she sat the cup back down on the desk, pushing it past a stack of files.
"Yup," she noted, frowning, "that one was yours."
Trying to hide his smile and failing miserably, Dr. Spencer Reid scratched the bridge of his nose before snatching his beloved cup of coffee from the reach of the dark haired woman standing in front of him. Thoughts of Prentiss germs cast aside, he raised the brim to his own lips. "You shouldn't question someone with a photographic memory, Emily."
Prentiss shook her head, almost refusing to dignify that with an answer. Almost. "The cups are the same, Spencer."
Spencer sat up a little straighter. "Actually. . ."
Emily raised a hand to stop Reid's babbling when she spotted their unit chief, Aaron Hotchner leaving his office with two of her other team members, Media Liaison Jennifer Jareau and her fellow Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, at his heels. Though, in the past, Emily had seen J.J. speak to Hotch before bringing the team a case, she'd rarely, if ever, seen Morgan privately briefed with the two outside of the round table.
Prentiss glanced to Reid. Judging from his own scrunched brow, he was making a similar observation. He opened his mouth to voice it, but stopped when Hotch raised his chin, drawing their attention.
"We've got a case," he said, his face stony.
Without a word, Emily and Spencer rose, quickly exiting the bullpen, and noticed that Jason Gideon was approaching from behind at a scarily fast walk. The older profiler's face was set in grim determination, a deeply lined frown pressed into his low jaw. He pushed past the two of them, anxious to reach their briefing room.
"Gotham," he muttered, as if in apology. "He's back in Gotham City."
Aaron must have heard Agent Gideon's assumption, because his piercing gaze found the ex-unit chief the moment Emily closed the door. "I thought you might have been aware of the situation. The media's having a field day with the latest reports."
The doors opened again, a sheepish Garcia in a skin-tight lime-green sweater dress slipped in, quickly sliding to her favored seat. "Sir," she said, drawing Hotch's attention. She cleared her throat and straightened her red-framed glasses. "This is so not the time, but let me start by saying, I know exactly what this case is about, and, FYI, I've got a slight fear of clowns. Just thought you should know."
Hotch blinked, but decided not to fully ignore the comment. "Noted."
Gotham City. Reid's face lightened when he put the statements together. He leaned forward. "We've been called in about the Joker case?" There was an unsaid "finally" hanging in the air after the question. "They called us specifically?"
Hotch's reply was a stiff nod. He took a seat, gesturing for the others to do the same, and allowed for J.J. to take the floor.
"Earlier this morning," J.J. confirmed. She handed out the files, her slick blond ponytail bouncing behind her head as she moved. "Commissioner Jim Gordon of the GCPD contacted our office about the case. Approximately thirty hours ago, the criminal referred to as "the Joker" escaped from the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. During his escape, he killed two guards, as well as one accomplice identified as a previous patient at the asylum. He was also spotted in front of a service station before it exploded, killing the attendant. Then he disappeared from Gotham and reappeared across state lines, in Rhode Island, where he proceeded to invade the home of John and Melissa Burrows."
J.J. took a break, waiting for the team to open to the first picture in their folders. "That's what he did to the couple within a twenty minute span."
Garcia quickly raised a hand to block the picture secured in Derek's fingers. "Well, I'm officially buying another bolt for my front door."
Emily forced herself not to wince at the too-colorful, high definition image on the paper, instead closing the file with a heavy hand. "Gideon, you said he had returned to Gotham." Gideon didn't response, his dark eyes wide, staring into open space in thought. Prentiss went on, "Why would he return to the city that caught him?"
Jason blinked to awareness, shaking his head. "He may not even know the answer to that question."
Morgan leaned forward, cupping one fist inside another, head lowered slightly in an unusually quiet display of submission. Finally, he opened his mouth.
"Jim," Morgan said. He stopped, correcting himself, "Commissioner Gordon thinks the… Joker has his reasons. He suspects the worst is yet to come."
The team shared a glance, not quite at the acknowledgment, but at the use of the name "the Joker." It wasn't generally how they referred to criminals, but none of them contradicted Morgan. After all, they were nearly a year late, if they'd wanted to stop the media from using the nickname.
Emily raised a brow. "You know the commissioner?"
Morgan nodded, meeting her eye, "And I believe him. Gordon has good instincts. The Joker's record shows that he's a plan-maker. This guy has a point to make. We just don't know what it is yet."
Hotch watched Morgan from the corner of his eye, observing the man's countenance, the words left unsaid in his statement. There was something more to Jim Gordon's relationship with the agent, and Hotch knew he'd have to pry the information from Derek on the way to Gotham. He tightened his jaw, turning from the man to the vision in green at his left.
"Garcia."
"Sir?" she chirped.
"We know that the Joker is the murderer, but he's still considered an Unsub. Even though he spent nearly half a year in Arkham Asylum, his true identity was never uncovered. DNA, fingerprinting, and physical comparison proved fruitless. We need his past."
She nodded, knowing the request before it left his mouth. "Unfortunately for Gotham, they don't have a me. If the Joker has another name, I'll find it, boss."
She stood, patting Morgan's shoulder in an unspoken promise, and quickly rushed from the room in a flash of blond pigtails and cotton candy perfume.
Hotch ran a hand over his tie and lifted the folder in front of him. "We'll finish the briefing in the air. Wheels up in thirty, everyone."
"…And that was over the past three years alone," Spencer Reid noted. "The murder rate for the decade is an all together scarier number."
"Remind me to never take a vacation to Gotham City. . ." Emily grimaced at the statistics, uncomfortable with the sinking feeling in her stomach. She had absolutely no hope that this case would be an easy in and out.
Reid took her statement to mean that he had done his job sufficiently. He paused, allowing for Morgan to interrupt. As the dark-skinned agent flipped through the papers, his voice became edged, anger sliding through to the surface.
"This doesn't add up," he snapped.
Reid turned his way, looking somewhat glum at the thought that his friend would dismiss his factoids so quickly. He quickly realized that Morgan wasn't countering the stats, but confirming their alarming size.
"We should have been here already, in Gotham. We should have been called in years ago by the local branch -- I mean, we all saw the reports a few months ago, when the hospital was hit. If we'd been called in earlier. . . And, even now, the department has been in a full manhunt for months, looking for the vigilante known as Batman. Gordon, or, hell, his predecessor, Commissioner Loeb, should have called us in earlier, before the vigilante persona devolved and murdered five people!"
Gideon cradled his chin between two fingers. "Maybe there's a reason why we weren't called."
"What reason could there possibly be?" Morgan snapped.
Sitting down her phone, J.J. stepped up behind their senior agent, a dumbfounded expression across her rosy face. "Speaking of which, according to the information I can find over the past three years, the media has their own mixed reasoning behind the Batman's existence. Articles range in opinion, from theories about a rogue cop in costume to the idea that," she paused, forcing the sarcasm out of her voice, "Batman is actually a mutant bat creature. And every press I've spoken to swings back and forth, reporters commenting that he's a menace, and then praising him as a hero when the crime rate drops. It's inconsistent, to say the least."
Morgan snorted. "The media's opinion on a vigilante is one thing. Cops are another."
J.J. raised her hands, surrendering to the discussion, and found a seat.
Gideon shrugged, but the casualness was betrayed by the carefulness of his reply. He seemed to know full well why a police department would not call the BAU. "They assumed the situation was under control. Perhaps they even appreciated the little aid a skilled man in a mask could provide them."
Morgan's eyes widened, as if the idea were ridiculous. "Gordon wouldn't fall for that. . ." Morgan paused there, releasing a baited breath. He looked like something sour had invaded his mouth. "Maybe you're right,' he began again. "Maybe Gordon didn't learn his lesson. I just find it a little hard to believe that a bunch of cops would trust a guy dressed like a flying rodent to stay in his right mind."
Reid coughed, "Actually, Morgan. . ."
With a raised hand and quick shake of his head, Morgan cut off the young doctor before he could begin his defense. Reid slumped back into his seat, defeated.
Hotch raised a brow. "Morgan," he interrupted, his voice too quiet for comfort, "is there something we should know about James Gordon?"
Morgan's nostrils flared, not in anger but aggravation. He knew at once that the emotion would be misinterpreted. "He's originally from Gotham, but I knew him from his work in Chicago."
Hotch lifted his head, a look of understanding crossing his face.
"He was a good cop back when I knew him. When we worked together. Like I said, good instincts. Good at feeling people out and getting answers from brick walls. He made Captain." Morgan cleared his throat. "I kept in contact with him off and on over the years. About five years back, the heat was turned up on him. He was booted from Chicago, practically blacklisted into going back to the Gotham PD."
"What happened?" Prentiss asked.
Morgan's lips grew thin in a grimace. He ran a hand across his smooth scalp. "Disobeyed an order during a hostage situation. He trusted his info over his superior's, and, don't get me wrong, Gordon was right. Saved the thief and the hostages. But the move cost a young cop his life. The kid was a rookie. Made a rookie mistake. It was just Gordon's rotten luck that he was also a Senator's son."
Prentiss winced. "So that's how someone ends up working at one of the most corrupt cities in the country."
An awkward silence passed over the group. Though it was and would always be a gray zone, breaking rules, dismissing a superior's orders, would always be a sore spot for the group. Made sorer still, as even Emily knew, by the all too recent dismissal of their own Elle Greenaway. The oldest among the family of profilers stared down at the files while the youngest twitched and squirmed until one of them could think of a way to get back on task.
"Gotham City has its redeeming qualities," Reid assured.
"Give me one example." Emily's eyes shot up, "And don't you dare mention the gothic architecture, Reid."
Spencer cleared his throat, frowning, as if architecture was the last thing on his mind. It hadn't been. "Well. . . The Gotham healthcare system is supposedly one of the best amongst metropolitan areas. Most of it is covered by Wayne Enterprises' Biotech and Medical divisions." Reid became more enthused when he noticed the other profilers look up in surprise. "Did you know that Wayne Medical is the country's leading researcher in cancer? And according to a recent study, they're amongst the top ten facilities researching genetics. So, what's really fascinating, is the low number of deaths due to cancer, heart disease, and obesity. A city of Gotham's size should--"
"That's depressing." Emily fought a smile at Reid's hurt expression. "Not you, Spencer. The fact that a city with that much potential is literally dying off from murder and suicides alone."
Reid found himself slumping once more against the seat. "You're right. It is depressing."
"Never fear, Garcia, Mistress of the Domain of Cyber-seers, is here," interrupted a voice.
Derek jumped at the sudden appearance of Penelope Garcia's face across his computer screen. He took a breath, finding it hard to fight the curving of his lips when he spotted her slight smile. The woman cleared her throat, shaking off her positive vibes and getting straight to business.
"Bad news folks, I've still got zip on the clown prince of crime," she explained.
Reid cocked his head. "The clown what?"
"Never mind, my lovelies," Garcia smirked, "while I have full confidence in my own abilities to track this guy's backstory across Hades or high water, it might take some time. Especially if I'm left working with medical records instead of prison records, because you all know what a pain those can be."
"Wait," Morgan mocked, "you mean to say that you, Ms. Garcia, are having trouble finding a man's last name."
Penelope winked. "I usually don't even get a first."
Hotch glanced up. "Keep trying, Garcia. In the meantime, is there any way we could find out if a person fitting the description of the vigilante known as the Batman or the Joker has appeared elsewhere in the United States? It would greatly help us to know if Gotham is their starting point, or if the two have previously perfected their... methods in another city."
"Surely you didn't just phrase that as a question, because you know I can get that done in a heartbeat." Garcia nodded, already typing on another computer.
"Quickly, Garcia."
Penelope nodded once more. "On it. Reports on any men beating up criminals while wearing a rubber suit will be with you shortly. I'm already looking for cases of carved smiles, captain, but I'll 'make it so'. The info will be faxed to the Gotham City PD for you."
The image of the woman flashed to black, the screen shrinking to show the bureau's logo across Morgan's screen.
Morgan looked up, brow scrunched. "I'm all for catching a vigilante, Hotch, but are we now considering the possibility that the Batman and the Joker might be in some way related."
"We can't rule it out yet," Aaron confirmed, "but I don't think it's likely."
Emily glanced between the two of them. "Then why ask Garcia to look into it?"
Agent Hotchner shared a quick glance with Gideon, experience sending the two of them the same signal. Hotch opened his mouth to reply, "Because, Prentiss, every hero needs a villain. There's the distinct possibility that a personality such as the Joker's chose Gotham, not because of its significance to the person he was before his injuries, but because it provided the villain he has become with the nemesis of his fantasies."
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