For Laughs - Batman/Criminal Minds - Chapter 13 - 14/17
Title: For Laughs
Fandom: Batman (Nolan universe, mostly)/Criminal Minds
Links: Prologue + Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12
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.
Chapter 13
Enlighten Me
Batman's boot smeared the small puddle of blood on the floor. It belonged to FBI Agent Jennifer Jareau, and it hadn't had the chance to congeal. The caped crusader refused to look down, to take the time to think about whether or not the woman survived once he dropped her off at the emergency room. In truth, he didn't want to think too hard on it; if he did, he might not be able to control his emotions. And control was important. If it lost it…
His fist slammed into Zsasz's face. The jaw cracked against the glove but didn't break. The Batman uncuffed the barely conscious man long enough to pull him off the bed frame before he clicked the restraints into place behind the man's back.
There was a simple reason Batman hadn't called an ambulance to pick up the agent.
Zsasz. Batman wanted to speak to him. Alone. And now he had that chance.
"Wake up, Zsasz," Batman growled, his teeth clenched in a tight grimace. He slammed Zsasz against the wall, the skin-head's skull bouncing off the plaster. "Open your eyes!"
Victor did as he was asked, a scowl across his face. "Look who's back," he hissed. "The man who wears a costume to make himself feel special. Where are the cops, hero? Where are the sirens?"
Batman's fingers tightened on the serial killer's shoulders, slamming him against the plaster once more, and holding him there. "Why did the Joker hire you?"
Zsasz blinked at the vigilante before chuckling. "What, you don't know? You haven't guessed it yet? I think the rumors of your investigative abilities have been greatly exaggerated."
"I found you," Batman reminded him, and yanked him from the wall, throwing him down into the chair. Zsasz stood, darting to the door, but Batman grabbed him by the nape of his neck, squeezing the breath out of him before tossing him back into the seat.
"Why are you working with the Joker?" Batman began again.
Zsasz spat out a loose tooth and rolled his eyes up at the Batman with revile. "Because he paid me," he replied. With a shrug, he added, "and it was good work, Batman, saving lives. Not what you do, of course, I mean really saving lives. Giving them what they need. How is Jennifer, by the way? Is she thanking me yet?"
Batman's grunted and head butted the criminal. Zsasz's head lolled back, fresh blood spilling from his broken nose. Batman reached up, fingers loosely gripping the man around the neck.
"What's the Joker planning?"
Zsasz grinned lazily, the blood rolling down his throat giving his voice a slight gurgle. "Are you going to react this violently every time I answer your questions, Batman?" he asked.
Batman raised his free fist in threat. "The Joker's plans. Now."
"Fine, fine," Zsasz coughed. "A bomb in a mall." Before the vigilante could move, he continued, "Or perhaps nerve gas at the skating arena. Maybe a little poison at a school cafeteria...He's a creative zombie, I'll admit."
The punch went home.
"I don't know!" Zsasz snapped. "I doubt he has a plan. His actions are meaningless, just like his life. Just like your pathetic life. But he has a reason. Is that what you really want to hear, Batman, his reason?"
"Tell me," was Batman's throaty command.
"But what if it's your fault?" Zsasz asked. "Would you still want to know then?"
The Batman's grip loosen slightly. "Why'd the Joker do it? Why'd he have you kidnap Jennifer Jareau?"
"Her?" Zsasz snorted and coughed on his own blood once more. "A dead woman walking. She was a distraction, just like all the rest. The Joker wants something, a little piece of information that the good agents of the Behavior Analysis Unit will be able to provide him with."
Batman didn't believe him. "If he wants information from the agents, why's he killing them off one by one?"
"One by…? Ah," Zsasz raised a brow, "you don't know yet, do you?" The serial killer's eyes rolled back, but he shook himself to consciousness. "I could lie, you know, but it wouldn't be half so entertaining as telling you the truth."
"Speak!" Batman snapped. "Now, Zsasz."
Zsasz grinned. "I imagine that, at this very moment, my employer is having a very interesting conversation with a certain F.B.I. agent. It'll probably be a long talk. With plenty of painful intermissions, as no one has even realized the skinny little zombie is missing."
Batman straightened, surprised. "Spencer Reid is alive?"
He didn't wait for an answer, slamming his fist into Zsasz once more. The man went quiet. Batman cuffed his wrist to the radiator behind the chair. And the Batman was gone, a quick shadow on the night.
The waiting room was quiet, still, for all but a second. Morgan felt it pass like a decade. His body tensed, knowing that their conversation wasn't over. For some reason, though, he refused to be the one to break the silence, to state the obvious.
"You know him," Agent Hotchner said.
Gordon turned, brow wrinkled, but not in confusion. It was clear to everyone present who the "him" in question was: Batman.
"You mean who he is without the mask?" Gordon asked. He shook his head.
Gideon stared down at the flooring with enough intensity to melt the tile mortar. "Either you know and you're not telling us, or you don't want to know. And you're not willing to ask the question."
Jim ran his fingers through his hair before answering with a slight, childish shrug. "Suppose you're probably right. I quit asking him long ago, and I think I quit trying to find out on my own before then." He pocketed his hands, nervous. "Honestly? I think the person I see wearing the mask is who he is. Whatever he looks like without the cowl, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's good at the job. He gets the bad guys put away, makes it safe on the streets at night. Until some freak with a vision strolls into my city."
"Like the Joker," Emily supplied.
Jim nodded. "Like the Joker." He spoke to Hotchner specifically. "The Batman found the clown last time. Took him down on his own. He can do it again."
Hotch's face had no tell. After a few seconds, he balanced his hands above his belt, elbows wide, authoritative. "Can we assume he has information on the situation at Arkham Asylum?"
"Actually, Hotch--" Prentiss stepped up to Gordon's side, staring up at the unit chief through dark bangs. "Outside, I received a message from Detective Stephens. Stephens was dispatched to Arkham at the first signs of a riot. They've got things under control on the island. There's no evidence that the Joker was ever there. Bomb squad sweeps have come up clean as well. It's looking more like it was an orchestrated diversion."
Hotch crossed his arms over his chest. "Diversion?"
"I know why the Joker was trying to distract us," Gordon said, he moved back, insuring the others were all facing him, before he began again. "The explosion at the hotel felt off, even for the Joker, so I put a rush on processing the remains found. Now I'm thinking that's exactly the kind of thing the Joker was wanting to delay by causing all the ruckus at the Narrows."
"Spit it out, Jim," Morgan said, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"It's not necessarily good news, Derek." Gordon frowned. "I was waiting until I got the lot of you together before breaking it, though. The body we found was the right height and type, but the skull showed three capped molars and a root canal. Dr. Spencer Reid's dental records show he didn't have any work done."
"That wasn't him?" Emily breathed, covering the hint of a smile on her face with one hand, as if she was afraid to be happy. "What are you saying? Who was in Reid's room during the explosion?"
Morgan groaned, rolling his head back in frustration. "The body was planted," he concluded.
Gordon nodded. "That would be my bet. Coroner found knife marks on what remained of the spine. I'd say the unlucky bastard got stabbed in the back and left close to the bomb."
"Reid's still alive out there?" Hotch asked.
Gideon's voice was quiet, foreboding. "That's not what Jim said."
Emily blinked. "What?"
Gideon stared down Gordon. The older agent's face was pale, almost ashen in the poor fluorescent lighting, and Jim's frown twisted, as if he could barely stand to face the other man. "We don't know that he's alive," Gideon explained. "There's no proof that he is. What we do know is that someone set up the explosion in his room. Whoever did that likely wanted us to believe that Reid was dead."
Hotch raised a hand, begging Gideon to cut off there. "Until we find proof of otherwise, we are going to assume that Spencer is alive and in need of help. We're going to treat this like an abduction."
Gordon cocked his head, looking at the agent with sympathy. "You can distance yourself from it, if you want. But we all know exactly who took him. Batman said your Agent Jareau was with Zsasz. There's only one real option left."
Judging from the tightness of her face, Emily fought to hold in her emotions, but rage slipped in when she replied, "The Joker. Yeah. We know."
Morgan winced but shook his head, refusing to concentrate on that bit of knowledge. Reid was alive. And he'd find him. Morgan couldn't afford to not believe it was true. "I got to call Garcia," he muttered, and pushed out of the room. Because while some people prayed to a God, Derek Morgan phoned his own personal goddess and miracle maker, Penelope Garcia.
"I'm going to ask questions."
The Joker had decided on the toy tractor. He pushed it with both hands, letting it roll across the worker's table and smack Reid across the temple. Not enough to damage the head, of course. Wouldn't do to start with the head. Gotta work up to that.
"You're going to answer," the mad man continued.
Plus the brain was sorta the point of this little game, wasn't it?
"And if you don't, I'm going to practice using model glue on your more sensitive areas. Understood?"
Reid winced when the squeaking toy hit his pillow of hair again. "You don't have to," he swallowed, barely hearing the threat, "you don't have to ask. I already know the question," he said. He took a nervous breath before adding, "or at least, I know the question that you think you want to ask me."
The Joker paused in his game, dropping the toy onto a cart covered in a rather eclectic display of tools: broken saw blades, glass, sanding blocks, aluminum scrapers. His fingers danced over the glass a moment before he decided against cutting and moved to a metal file, nearly as much fun as the sanding blocks.
"Oh, you probably do," the Joker confessed. He leaned forward, pushing the file against the agent's knuckles. He slid the metal down with a quick movement. Reid cried out at the suddenly pain, quickly tucking his fingers into a fist to hide the nails.
"I could tell you," Reid said, tense, ready for more.
The Joker put down the file, picking a little ball of flesh from its grooves. "Enlighten me," he smiled.
"I know why you wanted the FBI in Gotham," Reid licked his lip, mimicking the Joker without a second thought. "It makes sense really, that it would all have to do with your newest fixation. The Batman, it's all about him, isn't it? He's given you a new path, a new direction." Reid saw the flashing gleam of metal. A blade. He tried not to focus on it, but his breath quickened. He forced himself to go on. "Before, it was just about the chaos, you hoping it would lead you from one want to another. But then you found Batman. A balance. When you first arrived in Gotham, you wanted the city to give you his name, but you changed your mind, didn't you? That's why you threatened to kill any one tried to turn the Batman over."
Reid could feel the knife pressed under his chin, tapping the skin in steady rhythm. "You're faced with a problem, Joker. You don't want the world to know who Batman is, but you need to know. You need to reaffirm that he's a man, a human, who can be broken. Like all the other animals."
"You know me so well," Joker cooed, batting his eyelashes bashfully. He grew serious in a split second, his voice low, his face close to Reid's cheek. "Did you find out?" His voice was lucid and had lost it's high, jester's quality. "Do. You. Know?" he breathed.
Reid paused. The Joker didn't. "You're very good at what you do, aren't you?" the Joker asked, nodding to himself and, with a tight grasp, forcing Reid to nod along with him. "So you must know," he continued, "exactly what I'll do to you if you don't tell me who he is?"
"I know what you'll do to me if I do," Reid replied.
He could feel blood sliding down his chin.
The Joker reached out, running a bead of red between two fingers. "Hmm," the Joker hummed, "I guess you, kiddo, would know which is worse. Being a freak or a corpse?"
Reid's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What I don't understand is why you think I know who the Batman is. Why me?"
The Joker paused, resting his elbow on Reid's chest. For the first time, Reid realized how bruised he was from the van ride. A few kicks too many had left his ribs sensitive to the clown's weight. The Joker seemed to notice the grimace and leaned in further, pretending to think deeply.
"The thing is, kiddo, I don't," he replied, shaking his head in disappointment. "Your room was on a different floor than the rest, easy to get to. I was worried when you weren't there, but then you just strolled along the sidewalk like a little, lost puppy. Not very perceptive for an F.B.I agent," he hissed, and chuckled. "Course, I'm glad it was you, the walking computer, and not the muscle or the old guy. Better odds with you. Plus, you've got a great sense of fashion." For good measure, he plucked the collar of Reid's sweater vest. In an instant, though, the Joker's eyes darkened, the humor sliding away, a gritty, threatening voice returning. "Of course, if you don't know, I'll just have to leave you grinning and cut my way through the rest of your team," he noted. "Who should I start with? The family man? Your boss. Or what about the brunette looker. She seems oh-so eager to please…"
Reid shook his shoulders, dislodging the Joker's elbow. The Joker slipped, laughing at the fall, and then glowered at Reid. "What? Feeling knowledgeable all of a sudden?"
Reid's voice shook. "Ju-just don't hurt them, my team. I can tell you who the Batman is if you just promise not to hurt them. Not to lay a hand on…" the words drifted off.
The Joker was pulling a face, a dramatic frown and squint of the eyes. A mockery of a child who'd dropped his ice cream cone on daddy's leather interior. "Whoops," the Joker voiced, "might be a little late for that, kiddo."
"What do you…" Reid released a soft cry, remembering the text message. The one asking him to meet the team outside the hotel. But none of his team had been there. No, the Joker had been there. Waiting. The text had come from J.J.'s phone. "No," Reid whispered, "no… not J.J…" He forced back the sting at his eyes, hoping the tears wouldn't trail down. "What did you do to her?" he snapped. "Where's Agent Jareau?"
"Me?" the Joker asked, appalled. "Hurt an innocent young woman? Nah, that's not really my cup of tea. But you're a profiler, maybe you can thing of someone you'd enjoy a little play time with a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty."
Reid's eyes widened in fear. "Zsasz."
"See, now, I knew you were smart." The clown puckered his ruddy lips, as if tasting the inside of his mouth. "Now, I could have lied to you, pretended she was off twirling her hair for the cameras, but this," he paused, pointing from himself to Reid, "this is what you refer to as a 'trust building exercise.'"
"You didn't have to hurt her," Reid muttered, lost in his own thoughts, "she didn't do anything to you…"
The Joker's smile widened. "Here comes the part where you say that you'll never tell me what I want to know. I like this part." He leaned in, gently touching the agent's mouth with the flat of his knife.
Reid clinched his eyes shut.
"Shh," the Joker whispered. "It's a simply procedure, really. A few cuts here, a few burns there, and then we just wait for the animal we both know you are on the inside to come to the surface." He grinned, yellowed teeth shining, threatening to consume. "Admit it, Doctor Reid, deep down, you're a freak," he said, "just like me."
"I can't believe we're doing this."
Agent Hotchner shot Morgan a warning glance for the outburst, but neither man moved to leave the rooftop or to close in on the Commissioner's position. The commissioner stood, his phone put away, hands in the deep pockets of his trench coat and out of the frigid air, waiting as patiently as a saint.
Aaron could feel the frustration radiating off his teammate. Not for the first time since they'd reached the last level of stairs to the rooftop, he wished he'd denied Morgan permission to join him, forced the other agent to stay with Emily, who was keeping a close eye on J.J. or Gideon who was headed back to the Major Crimes Unit to catch the captain up on the Joker situation.
Instead of waiting for Derek to lose his temper, Aaron decided to engage. "Are we sure he'll meet us?" Hotch asked.
Jim cocked his head in thought. "He said he'd be here," Gordon said over one shoulder. His breath came out in a puff. "So he will, unless something more important comes up."
Morgan snorted.
Aaron stayed perfectly stoic. "Does he always meet you on rooftops?"
Gordon chuckled at the question. "No, no," he muttered, "he meets you wherever he wants, but I'm guessing the roof was the safest place for someone who can scale buildings. Especially when cops are chasing him across the ground."
The sound of rustling drew their attention. The Batman stood a few yards away, a black gargoyle, his cape whipping in the moonlight. He straightened, staring at Jim, seemingly ignoring the gun Morgan had drawn to hold tight against his hip. The Batman hesitated only a moment before taking a step forward.
"Victor Zsasz," Batman said, his voice gravelly, "was dropped off in front of your department ten minutes ago."
"Thanks for that," Gordon said with a tip of his head.
Batman didn't reply at first.
Jim sighed, throwing a hand back at the agents in a dismissive wave. "Don't worry about them. Too late for that, Batman, they know I've been in contact with you. Obviously."
"Obviously," Morgan echoed.
Batman shot him a look. "You called," he stated.
"Did Zsasz talk for you?" Gordon asked.
Batman bristled. "He said enough. I checked up on his information before I brought him in. The situation at Arkham is a distraction, as was Zsasz's kidnapping of Agent Jareau." His dark gaze landed on Aaron Hotchner. "Did you know that your agent, Spencer Reid, is still alive?"
Hotch swallowed. Yes, he had known. But hearing it confirmed again made his breath catch in his chest. He hid the emotion, nodding instead. "Dental records proved the body," Hotch replied, "belonged to Samuel Tonks, a former resident of Arkham Asylum."
"And late lackey of your man, the Joker," Morgan added. "Left behind Tonks to look like Reid had died. Zsasz tell you why he'd go to such measures?"
Hotch had another question, though, "Batman, do we have any idea what condition Reid is in?"
Batman was quiet a long moment, sharing a silent conversation with Jim Gordon. "Zsasz has been out of contact with the Joker since your agent was taken. But he implied that Dr. Reid was being questioned by the Joker."
Morgan winced, pain written across his face when he opened his eyes again. Questioned. Morgan had a bad feeling that he knew exactly what that meant. Reid didn't deserve this. Especially after what happened with Hankle. And after Hankle. He shook his head. The why was still unanswered.
Morgan's brow wrinkled, though, when he realized exactly what Batman had said. Dr. Reid. Most people would have went with Agent...Maybe Batman had picked it up from Gordon. Or, maybe Batman himself had been introduced to Reid. Morgan didn't have time to ponder further.
"What does the unsub want to know?" Hotch said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Morgan caught it; back to using "unsub". Hotch was distancing himself, the best armor he had at the moment.
Batman took a step closer to the agents. There was a silent threat to his looming presence. "The Joker took him because your team profiled me. He believes Dr. Reid knows who I am."
Morgan's gaze narrowed. "And does he?"
"If Dr. Reid doesn't give an answer…" Batman cut off for only a moment, his constant frown somehow hardening into a deeper grimace "…the Joker will kill him."
READ CHAPTER 14