Chapter Text
The room was small - claustrophobic. He sat in one of the two metal chairs in the room, which had been bolted to the floor to prevent them from being used for violence.
His handcuffs were digging into his skin more so than usual, purple and blue marks already there from being forcefully dragged around the asylum. Perhaps the guards had tightened up his handcuffs on purpose? He wouldn't put it past them - petty fuckers.
He glances around the room, his eyes landing on the two way mirror infront of him, wondering if Batman was watching.
A small smile forms on his face as he thought about their last encounter.
He had gotten so many beautiful scars from Bats that night.
Huh, 'Bats' has a nice ring to it.
Tilting his head back, his eyes meet with a blaring white light above him. The smile leaves his face, and he quickly looks down into his lap.
The hands folded in his lap were uncomfortable against his Arkham uniform, his head hurts - his eyes hurt. He licks the scars that run up his cheeks in anticipation.
He doesn't know when he started to jog his leg, or when his hand had moved to his lips, teeth chewing at his already chewed off nails.
He hears the creak of a door opening and whips his head around to look at the entrance.
There, he sees his therapist entering the room - clipboard and pen in hand. The pen is attached to the clipboard by a small string so it wouldn't get 'lost' during sessions.
"Good afternoon, Patient J.," the guard closes the door behind the doctor, "how are you today?"
"Just peachy, doc." Joker watches as the therapist sits down on the chair in front of him.
The doctor smiles and adjusts himself until he's comfortable in the seat.
"I understand that you were in solitary for a week." Joker crosses one leg over the other, resting his elbow against his thigh and his chin against his hand as he listens to the therapist.
"A week? I thought I was in there for a month!" He giggles and looks the doctor up and down. "That ah, suit isn't doing it for you, by the way - just thought I'd let you know."
"Patient J., perhaps we should talk about the reason why you were put in solitary?" The man says, picking up his pen and clicking it slowly.
Joker watched as the doctors finger slowly presses upon the button, the noise ringing throughout his ears. He closes his eyes, his jaw tense.
"Patient J.?" He puts the pen down.
Joker opens his eyes, squinting slightly as he stares at the therapist, then down to his Arkham badge on his suit coat.
"Dr. Cirus," he reads, dragging out the 's' for a few seconds, "I don't like the new ah, pills I'm on."
"Why's that?" Dr. Cirus asks.
"They make me dizzy, feel like I'm gonna throw up all the time." The doctor nods and scribbles down some notes.
"We can't change your medication just because you don't like them, you should know that by now." Joker continues staring at the man, his hand not holding up his chin anymore.
"Now, I think we should get back to the matter at hand - the reason on why you were put in solitary?"
"The guards were jealous that I'm a better singer than them."
Cirus sighs and raises his head from the clipboard.
"Not the fact that you stabbed the head security guard in the eye with a piece of styrofoam? I honestly don't even know how you manage these things.." Joker shrugs.
"Anythings a weapon if you really have the desire to inflict pain on someone." He replies.
"So that's what violence is to you? A desire?" Dr. Cirus asks, frowning deeply.
"Now I didn't say that, I've ever only killed for two reasons doc: - necessity and revenge. You're a smart man, I think you can figure out which one I 'assaulted' him for."
"Revenge, I'm guessing?" Cirus's frown only deepens, his curiosity starting to get the best of him.
Joker hummed at his reply, "An eye for an eye, my friend," he giggles to himself, staring at the wall with a soft expression, "I suppose it did end up being ironic in the end - you know," Joker's voice lowers, leaning forwards towards the doctor and tearing his eyes away from the wall.
"I was originally going to rip his cock off once I got out of Arkham. Track down his house, kidnap him, make a clean cut and send him to the hospital. I probably will still do that, mind you, but I just couldn't wait that long.."
The pieces quickly click into place in Dr. Cirus's mind.
"Patient J., was Mr. Alan," Cirus pauses, "did he - do anything sexually to you without your consent?"
Joker laughs sharply, licking his scars again with a flick of his tongue.
"No, no, god no! He's as straight as a line. I'm ah, sorry to say that your dear Mr. Alan has been messing with some of the ladies in C block, doc." Joker giggles at his unintended rhyme. "I hate rapists, they knock me sick - believe it or not, I do have my own sense of justice, doc."
Dr. Cirus nods, jotting down some notes that he'd (probably not) come back to later.
"Do you have a certain distaste for rapists because of past trauma? If so, you're free to talk about it here."
"I admire your perseverance in trying to get answers out of me, I really do -" Joker grins, his scars stretching across his face, he was licking them more frequently now. "But I'm afraid I just don't believe in fucking someone without their consent." Joker's words were said with an air of digust about them.
Joker shrugs, his attention focused on the therapist again.
Dr. Cirus nods. He would consider bringing the matter up with Dr. Strange.
"How about we move to a lighter topic?" The doctor asks, placing his clipboard underneath his chair, attention now fully on his patient.
"Sure. Whatever makes you happy doc, what would you like to discuss with lil' ol' me?" Joker taps his fingers on his knee, the jogging of his leg now gone.
"How about we talk about what you'd like to do once you're rehabilitated?"
Joker laughs.
"Do you really believe in therapy that much?"
"It's hypothetical." Dr. Cirus replies.
Joker hesitates. He hadn't really entertained the idea of what he'd do if he ever managed to be rehabilitated - what he'd do if he was like every other person in Gotham, if he was just another face in the crowd that would go unnoticed.
To be quite frank, he just thought he'd eventually be able to bribe a guard- maybe seduce a therapist or something (he found some of the freakier ladies didn't mind the scars, and the therapists are so obviously a little freaky.) His eyebrows furrow, eyes squinting slightly as he thinks.
"I would travel. And paint."
"Where would you travel?"
"...I've always wanted to ah, go to Spain." Joker's chewing his nails again, his voice muffled slightly, eyes averted from Dr. Cirus. The meds were finally kicking in. He felt drowsy, yet alert. His muscles relaxed, but his mind positively manic.
"What would you paint?" Cirus asks, his head slightly more forward towards Joker, wanting to see how the new medication is really affecting the madman.
Again, Joker hesitates. Eyes darting around the room, paranoia setting in.
"...A man....by the..sea." He struggles to get the words out.
"Would the man be anyone in particular?"
"Yes." Joker's tense - he doesn't like this conversation anymore, and his head was starting to throb.
"Who would the man be?" Dr. Cirus questions, his voice soft and calm.
"..I want to go back to my cell." He was tired. His eyelids were heavy and fluttering shut.
Dr. Cirus sighs quietly.
"Alright, well, I think we made some real progress today, Patient J., I'll see you next Thurs-"
Jokers mind goes blank. Everything is dark.. an empty void he's now falling into uncontrollably- and not the comforting kind he got whenever he snorted that opioid thing before Arkham.
"Security!" Cirus calls, the door bursting open - two guards entering the room.
Barely conscious, Joker feels the hard concrete floor seeping into his skin and veins, infiltrating his body. It was only when he felt the guards pick him up, he started to thrashing around, throwing punches and kicks to wherever he could.
All he saw was red. Two figures that were trying to pry themselves into his mind and rip him open from the inside out.
They wanted to break him, see him shatter, see him suffer. Didn't everyone want that?
He feels something prick his neck, his vision going blurry before he goes limp in the guards arms.
Dr. Cirus shakes his head, putting the syringe back into his pocket and crouching down to get his clipboard. "Take him back to his cell. If we're lucky, Strange will let us put him in solitary for another month."
He exits the room, the guards passing him in the hallway carrying the blonde haired man with ease.
•▪︎●◇~♤♡♧~◇●▪︎•
He was in a new room. It smells like chemicals and fresh paint.
A straight jacket limits his movements as he sits almost lifelessly in the cushioned off white coloured chair he had been forced into.
Dr. Cirus sits across from him behind a desk, looking at him with a brow raised.
"How are you feeling today, Patient J.?" Dr. Cirus sips at his coffee, almost as if he were having a talk with a friend.
"You shaved my head." Dr. Cirus noticeably smirks.
"Yes, well, you understand we had to. You managed to find green hair dye.. it could've triggered something and we could've lost all the valuable progress we've made. I must say, I am impressed with how your behaviour has been up until this point - this is the first incident you've had since the-" He tenses, "scuffle with one of our female nurses 3 months ago."
The doctor explained as calmly as he could, his words laced with venom - taking great pleasure in seeing the psychopath in front of him shaking with anger.
"You shaved my head." Joker seethes through his teeth, his jaw clamped shut, and his jittering coming to a stop.
Joker stared at Cirus, he saw pure rage mixed with a surprising amount of sadness.
"You know we had to. We may have let you keep it for a while if you hadn't put two doctors and a guard in a critical conditio-"
"Fuck you."
Dr. Cirus's eyebrows shoot up.
"Excuse me?"
"Fuck. You." Joker spits, his mouth curled into a snarl as he shifts around in his straight jacket.
"Patient J., I understand why you may be feeling upset but there are consequences to your acti-"
"Don't speak to me like I'm a kid, like I'm made of glass - as if I'm one of your other patients that are oh so delicate." Joker's tongue darts out to swipe along his bottom lip.
"I won't let you poke around my brain, take what you want and let you run off with it to get yourself 5 awards for 'curing The Joker'." He's leaning forward in his seat, his face as close as he could get it to intimate Dr. Cirus.
Quickly Dr. Cirus grabs Joker by the scruff of his straight jacket, pulling him over the desk, his legs slightly dangling in the air.
He moves towards Joker's ear, feeling the man wriggling beneath him, trying to escape his hold.
"You ever speak like that again to me," he tightens his hold on the fabric, "I'll put horse tranquillisers on your medication list, you understand?" He moves away from the madman's ear, looking into his eyes and tightening his grip on the collar of Joker's straight jacket.
Joker only struggles beneath him more - Cirus firmly keeping his grip on the man until he feels something sharp stab him in the stomach. Cirus's hold on Joker was gone in an instant - looking down at his bleeding stomach where a makeshift shank resided in his skin.
He shoots his head up to see Joker - now out of his straight jacket with his coffee mug in hand. Joker harshly brings it down upon Dr. Cirus's head, the object shattering and cutting the skin on the doctors scalp. He screams in pain, falling to the floor.
Guards rushed through the door, only just managing to stop Joker from pulling out his shank - which he could now see was a sharpened toothbrush - and plunging it directly into his ear.
One of the two men grabs Joker's elbows, pulling them behind his back while the other holds his legs to stop him from flailing them everywhere.
"We need back up here!" The one holding his legs had a walkie talkie on him, and it had took Joker until another doctor came into the room with a syringe to realise that they would drug him again.
"No! Nonononono! No! No!" He tries to move away from the doctor, twisting his body to release himself from the guard's grip.
A twinge pokes at his neck, his pleads becoming quieter and quieter until he was drowning in the void of darkness again.
•▪︎●◇~♤♡♧~◇●▪︎•
The mattress he had been given was barely any comfort against the concrete floor, not to mention some of the springs from below the fabric were digging into his skin.
Joker was curled into the fetal position, his eyes heavy as he looked at the wall in front of him.
His stomach doing somersaults was the only thing keeping him awake. Usually, he didn't mind pain - but this wasn't exactly pain.. it was a feeling of constant unease in his own body, like he needed to claw himself out of his own skin.
Joker's head was pounding, any sound coming from the hallway was fuzzy and muted.
As his eyes became too heavy for him to hold open any longer, he frowns and closes them shut, afraid of what he might find in the darkness he was now engulfed into.
"Turn the voltage up." A voice says, the blinding pain coming from outside his skull making Joker scream into the silicon mouthpiece. The metal rods beside his head retreat, and his weak pleads turned into pained giggles.
The voice was now closer towards his face, a blurry figure standing in front of him when he opened his eyes.
"What's so funny?" It was a man and a voice he recognised perfectly well.
The man took the silicon out of his mouth, and Joker couldn't help laughing uncontrollably, his eyes closing shut as he tried to breathe deeply.
"You- ehehe- you trying to break me. You trying to get me to apologise -" he wheezed, coughing afterwards, "after I roughed you up a lil bit. Did the- HA! Did the toothbrush have cooties doc-"
Jokers taunting was cut off by short jolt to his skull, gasping as his jaw clenched, tears threatening to fall from the corner of his eyes as his body jolts and twitches. The rods were taken away again as Dr. Cirus grabbed Jokers jaw tightly, making the defenceless man turn to look at him.
"I am not asking for your forgiveness, no, far from it. All you've done with that little stunt of yours is make your life a living hell. You've given me and the rest of the staff a valid reason to break you down day by day until you are not even a man. You will just be another number in society, and after you've suffered, you will die here. Alone." Joker snarls as he manages to gather some spit from the back of his throat and shoot it out onto Cirus's face.
The doctor let go of Jokers jaw, pushing it away roughly as he swiped his hand down his face, the spit dangling off his hand.
Joker laughs, his arms and legs flailing about manically as he tried to break free of the restraints. Dr. Cirus shook his hand over Joker, the spit landing somewhere in his soft prickly hair that had grown out probably a centimetre or so.
The doctor took the silicon, stuffing it back into Jokers mouth and turning up the voltage to a dangerously high number- the rods going back to his skull and producing an even more numbing pain. He yelps, tears finally falling down his face.
He couldn't let him win, he wouldn't let him win he needed to be free-
As a sob escapes his mouth, muffled by the silicon, he pleaded to the one person he knew might come, his knight in shining armour, the man he trusted with his life for reasons he couldn't understand.
"Batman..."
Batman would save him, maybe not now. But soon.
Batman would come for him.
Joker's eyes shoot open. He wouldn't close them again, there was too much behind those circles of abyss.
He runs a hand through his hair, the length reaching the middle of his ears.
It was the only way he could tell roughly how long this had been going on. How many months Batman hadn't helped him for..
How many months in the future where Batman might not help him.
Joker crossed his arms, bringing his knees to his chest, his head tilting down toward his knees. He started to mumble, his breath uneven and his eyes wet with unfallen tears.
"Batman please..please Bats, please save me. I can't do this anymore - I need you to help me Batsy...just this once..just this once..."
He repeated different variations of the cries for help before he managed to fall into a dreamless sleep, his body relaxing as he allowed it to rest for a few hours.
That was the night Joker decided to escape Arkham Asylum.