Secrets To Be Kept

This is the first story I've completed in a long while, and my first ever for this particular fandom. But it was eating at me and I just had to write it. So, I hope you guys enjoy it and that you'll review and share your thoughts with me.

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Secrets to Be Kept

She watched the footage of the murder of the fake Batman one more time. She’d been told to watch the footage before consenting to the task that had been set before her, and now she was regretting it. She ran her fingers through her short, red hair and looked up as her fiancée came in. He smiled down at her and asked, “So, how’s it coming?”

“I’m thinking of quitting,” she replied. He sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

“Why, darling?”

Lavinia Westley shook her head and said, “They asked me to give the Joker a physical exam tomorrow; Dr. Crane as well.” Her amber colored eyes were narrowed at the screen, while her Cupid’s bow lips were pursed in concentration. She was a bit pale, with a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. These, along with her short stature and petite figure made her look much younger than she was. “I’m scared, Christian.”

Christian Saari was much like Lavinia in that he was slim and pale, but that was where the similarities ended. He was tall with luscious lips, dark brown hair and green eyes, not to mention heavily tattooed. Among these, the most noticeable was a tiny black star just beneath his right eye.

They were an odd pair to say the least. Lavinia was a medical doctor who split her time between Gotham General Hospital and Arkham Asylum; or had until the Joker had blown the hospital up. Christian was the lead singer for the up and coming hard rock band called Narcotic Psyche. Because of their busy schedules they didn’t see each other as often as they liked, but they spent as much time together as possible.

“So you’re going to quit the job you love because they want you to examine two of Gotham’s most infamous madmen? You didn’t have a problem tending to Falcone,” said Christian.

“Falcone is pretty docile. And I hate working at Arkham thank you very much. I just do it to help out, and for a paycheck while they rebuild Gotham General,” Lavinia told him.

Christian kissed her, then said, “If you think its right, then do it. But not because you’re afraid.”

“I think terrified is a better word,” she answered honestly, and sighed again. “None of the staff will go near the Joker. Crane isn’t so bad, he remembers me from when he was in charge at the asylum. But Joker… Fuck.”

Christian nodded, holding her close before turning off the television. “Well, I can come with you, wait in your office or something so that you’ll know I’m nearby.”

She smiled at that, asking him, “Would you?”

”Of course I will. Now we should get to bed, we’ll need to be up early.”

***

The next day, Dr. Westley was making her way down the hall as she spoke with Dr. Cortez; he was the psychiatrist in charge (for the moment) of the Joker’s treatment.

“So why does he need a physical? Is he harming himself?” She asked.

“It’s possible but some of the injuries look as though they were inflicted by another person. The DA’s office wants to make sure he cant’ use it to get out of prosecution, assuming he regains his sanity long enough to stand trial,” Dr. Cortez explained.

Dr. Westley fully understood the situation, and steeled herself so she was ready when they reached the examination room. Her nerves were showing though, as her clothing was a bit different. Rather than her usual pantsuit or dress and heels, she was wearing black sneakers and jeans with a lavender v-neck shirt. Of course her lab coat was over it, but she’d dressed in case she needed to move quickly and get away.

After taking a deep breath, Dr. Westley walked into the examination room. She saw the two orderlies first; big burly men who were so muscle bound they looked as though they didn’t have necks. Then there was the patient in question. It was the first time she’d seen the Joker in person, and even in the orange jumpsuit, he was intimidating. He was wearing his face paint and his hair was still green, though it had dulled by a fair margin.

Dr. Cortez spoke up, saying, “This is Dr. Westley, she’s going to be examining you today.”

The Joker smiled and said, “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Dr. Westley stepped forward, the two orderlies making her feel a bit braver but not by much. She reminded herself that she had a job to do, and turned on the analytical side of her mind. She approached him as a doctor, not a terrified woman. After picking up her clip board and filling out a little bit of information, she said, “I’m going to need you to strip down to your underwear and stand on the scale. Have you eaten today?”

“He hasn’t,” said Dr. Cortez.

“Um, excuse me, I think she was speaking to me,” said Joker, who then looked at her and asked, “You were, weren’t you?” There was a certain tone of amusement to his voice.

“Yes, I was,” she replied and glanced at Cortez. It was then that she noticed that Joker’s pupils were dilated, and she asked, “Has he been given any medications this morning?”

”A few sedatives to keep him calm,” Cortez told her. Dr. Westley frowned at that and shook her head.

“Then why are you and the orderlies here?” She was puzzled by this. She had been told that if they couldn’t sedate Joker than he would be guarded while she checked him over. But obviously, they had.

Dr. Cortez had the grace to be embarrassed, and he said, “Well it’s for your safety of course…”

”I cannot legally allow either you or your workers in here then. I am aware of the special circumstances but this is a clear violation of not only state law but Arkham’s policies. I need you all to leave,” she told him. While she really didn’t want them gone, Dr. Westley knew it was the right thing to do. From a medical standpoint, anyway.

Dr. Cortez looked completely flummoxed, but he acceded to Dr. Westley’s wishes and had the orderlies leave. “We’ll be right outside if you need us,” he told her and shut the door.

Once they were gone, Dr. Westley felt a thrill of fear shoot down her spine. She was alone with Joker, and knew exactly what he was capable of. But then again, she also knew that he needed her help and repeated, “I need you to strip so I can look you over.”

He smiled at her, and said, “Of course.”

The basic parts of the exam took no time at all. She recorded his height, weight, blood pressure and temperature, but it was a vicious wound on his chest that got her attention.

It was a bite mark, and recent; probably from the previous day. She frowned, then asked him, “How did you come by this injury?”

He flicked his tongue out, licking his lips before saying, “I don’t kiss and tell, little girl. Tell me, could they only get a bitch newbie fresh out of med school to attend me? Hardly seems fair if you ask me.”

“I’ve been a liaison with Arkham for quite a while, sir,” she responded, grabbing a camera to document the injury. She took pictures, photographed it, and moved on to his other wounds. Mostly he had scratch marks along his lower back and buttocks, and seeing this had a thought, though she wouldn’t say anything until she’d documented these as well. While Dr. Westley wrote in her notes, she asked, “Have you engaged in any sexual activities in the past 48 hours?”

“I told you, I don’t kiss and tell,” he was still smirking, and it was one of those shit eating grins that kids often got when they had a secret and were holding it over another child’s head.

Dr. Westley sighed, then said, “I’ll need to give you a tetanus shot and antibiotics for the bite as rabies or an infection would be your biggest worry at this point. You won’t need stitches but I’ll need to clean the wound. I’d also like to draw some blood for lab work as well.”

Joker smirked at her and said, “Do what you gotta do, doll face.”

She didn’t comment as the sexism of the statement didn’t bother her; she’d heard worse from the other inmates. Dr. Westley instructed him to lay down, and he allowed her to strap him to the exam table. She gave him his shots, drew the blood for the tests and cleaned the wound with no incident. He continued to try to talk to her, mostly to get her to talk about herself, but she was focused on her job.

When she was done (and had put all the sharp instruments away where he couldn’t get to them) she instructed, “Put your clothes back on. I’ll see you again next week to see how the antibiotics are working.” With that, she left the room for a quick coffee break while the orderlies walked in to escort Joker back to his room.

***

Half an hour later, when the Joker was safely back in his cell, Dr. Jonathan Crane was seated in the exam room. He was a bit sedated and Dr. Westley was told she would be alone with him. She performed the same tests on him as she had on the Joker, but found even more injuries.

Bites, lacerations, bruises and when she checked she found severe damage to his anus. After he’d dressed again, they were sitting across from each other while she recorded her findings. Finally she asked him, “Were you raped?”

Dr. Crane seemed more out of it than usual when he replied, “You can’t rape the willing, doctor.”

She frowned, brushing her bangs out of her eyes before saying, “I don’t recall you enjoying rough sex before. Or sex in general, Jono.”

He flinched at the use of his old nickname, and said, “Things have changed since we were friends, Livi.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened? You know it won’t leave this room.”

Dr. Crane hung his head, but he nodded and began to tell his tale.

***

“It happened again last night. I don’t know how he keeps getting out of his cell and into mine. It’s like he’s a ghost who can go wherever he pleases. And I prayed, prayed Livi that he’d leave me alone.

“It was past midnight, I was trying to catch up on my reading when I heard the door creak open. It had slammed by the time I looked up, and he was there; the Joker. He was grinning at me, and he said, ‘Hello Doctor… Is the Scarecrow home?’

“I shook my head and said, ‘You know that if I’m here, he isn’t. Please go away.’

“He giggled and leapt onto the bed, bouncing a bit as he said, ‘I bet I could get him to come visit me…’

“I knew what he had in mind, and I said, ‘No, please…’ I also knew what was going on between him and my other self and I was disgusted by it. I practically begged him to leave, to leave me in peace but it was no use. I don’t remember much after that because of the change over. But when I came to my senses, Scarecrow was in charge and all I could do was watch.”

***

Scarecrow returned the Joker’s malicious grin, and pulled the other man down for a nerve searing kiss. When they broke apart, Scarecrow moaned, “How much time do we have?”

“20 minutes, maybe more,” he replied. Joker was already ripping open the op of his orange jumpsuit, and Scarecrow was stripping out of his own.

When Scarecrow was naked, Joker attacked his mouth again, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulders. Scarecrow growled, dragging his own nails viciously down Joker’s back. “Need lube,” Scarecrow groaned.

“Let’s make some,” Joker told him and produced a razorblade he’d pilfered from somewhere. He made a series of shallow cuts along the Scarecrow’s chest, then a deeper one. He cackled, and gathered the blood on his fingers.

Scarecrow hissed, muttering, “Not so deep, you fool!”

“You like it and you know it,” Joker said in a sing song voice. His fingers were coated in blood now, and he savagely thrust a finger inside him.

Scarecrow let out a strangled cry, his back bowing from the pain of the penetration. “Fuck! I l-like it… But Crane doesn’t and I have to live with him!”

“Tell the little wimp to suck it up,” growled Joker, his fingers probing deeper. He suddenly slapped Scarecrow across the face, yelling, “Stop distracting me!”

His head rocked to the side, but he shuddered from pleasure. Scarecrow thrust his hips down, moaning, “More…”

“You’re such a pain slut,” he said and giggled. He started to pinch the other villain, twisting his tender flesh between his fingers to make him cry out. By this time, Scarecrow was loose enough that he could push in without hurting himself. He withdrew his fingers and said, “Turn over.”

Scarecrow nodded and did as he was told; on his hands and knees he trembled with anticipation. And Joker didn’t leave him wanting for long. He seized Scarecrow’s hips and, without a hint of gentleness, buried himself inside the other man.

Scarecrow screamed; but it went unnoticed amongst the other screams in the madhouse. It only spurred the Joker on. He started out hard but slow, letting himself enjoy the squirming body beneath him.

The two worked out a frenzied, furious rhythm. Joker would show his appreciation by biting Scarecrow or spanking him hard; this only served to further inflame the villain and scream for more. But it grated at Joker that he couldn’t see Scarecrow’s eyes, so he pulled out and changed their position.

Scarecrow was rolled onto his back, and before he could think to protest, Joker thrust inside him again. Scarecrow tried to avoid Joker’s eyes as he found the thought of looking into them repugnant. But Joker was insistent and hissed, “Look at me.” He knew that tone, and didn’t dare refuse.

Joker was fucking him harder now, his heated gaze fixated on Scarecrow’s blue eyes. He grunted, and wrapped his hand around the other man’s throat; and for no real reason other than that it amused him, he started to squeeze. He said into his ear, “I could kill you; your climax would drive all the oxygen from you and you’d die from the best orgasm of your life.”

He glared back at the Joker, but he couldn’t deny this thought aroused him. But Scarecrow needed to breathe, so he clawed and scratched at the other villain’s buttocks and thighs. When this didn’t work, he made one last desperate bid for life; he bit the Joker’s chest as hard as he could.

This sent them both over the edge; Scarecrow came first, his seed spilling between their sweating bodies. Joker followed him a mere minute after, painting Scarecrow’s insides with his come. He released the other man’s throat to allow him to breathe, and Scarecrow in turn unclenched his jaw from Joker’s torso.

The Joker withdrew from Scarecrow and patted his ass, saying, “We keep this up and I’ll need to cut you another asshole. This one is getting destroyed.”

***

Dr. Crane fell silent, and Dr. Westley handed him a box of tissues as he looked like he wanted to cry. He accepted them gratefully, and indeed a few stray tears rolled down his cheeks. She hadn’t written down a word of it, but memorized every detail he’d told her. She wasn’t sure what to say for a moment; but at last, she asked, “Why haven’t you reported him? Just because your protector personality says ‘yes’, doesn’t mean that your ‘no’ doesn’t count.”

“I think you misunderstood my reasoning, Livi,” said Crane. “I, and even Scarecrow, are scared of what he would do if he found out I reported him for rape. I’m scared of what he will do when he finds out I told you.”

Dr. Westley shook her head sadly and replied, “He won’t find out. As your doctor I cannot reveal any information you don’t authorize me to, even in this case.”

“But he will find out, and he will punish me. And you,” he told her sadly. He took her hand and squeezed it, then said, “I had to tell someone, Livi. I couldn’t let it eat me up anymore. But he’ll find out, and he’ll come for you.”

“Oh Jono, don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right,” she promised, and graced him with a sad smile. “But I really wish you would tell the authorities. As it is, I can’t allow you or him any contact while you’re still healing from your injuries. I’ll be recommending him for isolation.”

”He’ll find his way out,” said Crane, and then stood as the orderlies came to take him away.

***

Dr. Westley walked back to her office, mind swimming with the things Dr. Crane had told her. She was disinclined to believe him at first; but both of their bodies supported the story. She was extremely troubled, and knew she was bound to keep what Crane told her to herself.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell Dr. Cortez her findings. That it appeared Dr. Crane and Joker had engaged in a sex act. And once the DNA she’d taken from Crane under the guise of a routine check came back positive… With Joker’s reputation, he would be locked away in the lower levels for a rather long time.

She stepped into her office and looked around, noticing the lights were off. She frowned and turned them back on, then called for her fiancée. “Christian? Darling are you here?”

“Don’t come in!” He yelled but there was a choking sound, and Lavinia rushed to her desk in the next room.

She gasped in horror at the sight that greeted her. Christian was tied to the desk chair, obviously beaten and bleeding from several injuries. Lavinia went to him and demanded, “Christian! Tell me who did this to you!”

That was when she heard the distinct sound of the door locking. Lavinia spun around, dropping her clip board as her heart jumped into her throat.

The Joker stood there; he’d barricaded the office and both Lavinia and Christian were trapped with him. He grinned at her and stepped closer, a bit of a dance in his movements.

“So I hear that dear Dr. Crane was telling tales in school again,” he said, a whimsical lilt to his voice though menace lurked beneath the surface. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, still smirking. “That simply won’t do. I can’t let you expose my preferences to the entire asylum; they’ll make it harder for me to have my fun. But you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Lavinia shook her head and said, “You raped Jonathan! Mad or not I can’t let you keep doing that, you’ll kill him!” She tried to break his grip, but his fingers were like steel around her little wrist.

“And this is where we run into our predicament, sweetheart,” said the Joker. His voice was on the verge of laughter as he told her, “So to keep you from squealing to the rest of the medical establishment, I’m going to offer you a choice.”

Fear was quite evident on her face as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Now this is when you get to make a very, very important decision. Something that’s going to change the rest of your life! Though how long that will be, who can say?” Joker asked her, then took a knife and put it to her face. Lavinia’s eyes widened in fear, the blade mere centimeters from her eye. But she tried to look at Christian.

His eyes showed fear as well, but it was fear for her rather than him. Lavinia wanted to assure him that she would be okay, but the Joker whispered, “Look at me.” He jerked her face around so she was forced to fix her gaze to his. She managed to ask him, “What do you want from me?”

“Ah, directly to the point, a bit disappointing but you intellectual types never are good at being creative. I guess that’s why you’re gonna marry the rock star over there,” said Joker, gesturing to Christian, “to make up for that.” He was still grinning as he continued; “You have to choose. His life or your life.”

Lavinia felt as though she was going to cry, but she had to know, “Why? Can’t you just let him go? He hasn’t done anything to you.”

He blinked, and then let loose with peals of laughter. Joker patted Lavinia’s cheek and said, “Now where’s the fun in that? As I told the Bat, it’s all about making a choice. And now you’re going to choose or I’ll kill you both right now.”

She didn’t even have to think about it; Lavinia closed her eyes and said, “Kill me, let him go.”

“No Vini!” Christian yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling against his bonds. “Let her go! Please, don’t kill her!”

“That is so touching! I guess you two really are in love. But, as they say, all good things must come to an end,” Joker said. His hand moved so fast it was hard for Lavinia to follow the movement. She didn’t even realize that the Joker had thrown the knife until she saw it had sunk home into Christian’s chest.

Christian’s mouth hung open, almost in disbelief. He managed to lift his head and look at Lavinia, saying, “I love you…” And that was the end of it. He was dead.

“NO!” Lavinia screamed and kicked the Joker as hard as she could. She didn’t know where the strength came from, but once he’d let her go she rushed to the side of her fiancée. She cradled his head to her chest, sobbing as she desperately checked for a pulse. It was no use, and that caused her to wail. “Baby, please baby, come back! Come back…”

She didn’t have much time to hold him, as Joker was on her in moments. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and laughed in her face, saying, “I guess you chose wrong! Oh well, there’s much more fun to be had here, my dear.” He reached over and unceremoniously pulled the knife from Christian’s chest and held it to her face again. “I think it’s time for a little unnecessary surgery, doctor.”

Lavinia didn’t even get a chance to scream.


***

They were found about a half hour later, the damage already done. Christian was dead, and Lavinia Westley would never be the same. By the time they’d managed to get the door open, the Joker had accomplished his goal of making sure she wouldn’t talk. As a matter of fact, Lavinia would never be able to talk again.

The Joker had cut her mouth open in a Glasgow smile, but he hadn’t stopped there. He’d cut out her tongue, and had been in the process of trying to remove her fingers when they’d caught him; he’d cut off her left pinkie and ring fingers. He’d never be charged of course, he was far too insane.

For a while, it looked as though Lavinia weren’t going to make it. She drifted in and out of danger in the hospital, and when she was conscious she was in so much physical and emotional pain it seemed like she would perish along with her fiancée. Gradually though, she began to recover.

When asked why he’d done it, the Joker simply smiled and said, “Some secrets shouldn’t be told.”

THE END

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Whew! Well, now that that's over with, review please. I'm wondering if I should write a sequel and go into this further, but I think it works fine the way it is currently.