Divination (Joker x Batman x OC)

Chapter 200

Adriana felt like she was suffocating under the mask. Her face was sweating and she could barely breathe.

"What do you want?" she asked her assailants.  She assumed, money.

She couldn't see them and they were saying nothing.

"Shut up," the one in the front seat said, while the one in the back seat beside her kept the gun pressed into her side.

Money? Was this ransom? Adriana began to panic at the thought that they might actually kill her. In Gotham, ransom was rarely a guarantee of a safe return of a hostage. And then she thought of Brake, stabbed nearly to death in prison by someone who wanted to know where the Joker was.  If this had something to do with that, it was worse than she thought. They would certainly kill her and not think twice about it.

Arsenio was all she could think of next. The light of her life. She couldn't cry now, she couldn't show emotion. She needed to be strong and figure out a way to escape. There was nowhere to go now, with her hands cuffed behind her back and a sack over her head.

Bruce. She began to think of him. He represented safety..security. Some part of her expected him to stop this situation immediately. He would rescue her. He knew what was going on. But the last thing she said to him was that she hated him. She never wanted to see him again. The worst fight they had ever been in was not something she wanted to replay in her mind. Bruce was so angry with Adriana for allowing Arsenio to be in the presence of the Joker and he didn't even know that she had left Arsenio alone with him several times. If he knew that, she was certain he would have ripped her apart. Her anxiety grew as she realized that he was not coming for her. Not yet, at least.

She wondered how long it would take for him to realize that she was in danger and that she was not off somewhere sulking alone and trying to avoid him until he came to his senses.

The car ride seemed to take forever and Adriana could hear the sound of the city fading. The ambulances and cop cars and sirens faded. They were on quiet roads and eventually, based on the ride loosing it's smoothness, rough terrain. They were in the woods.

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I DON'T SEND INVOICES.

The text from Twyla came through in all caps to Bruce's cell phone. He huffed at it and took another swallow of scotch.  He barely remembered getting into his car and driving to her house by the time he was ringing the doorbell.

"Driving under the influence," Twyla said, as soon as she saw Bruce and let him in. "Naughty boy."

Bruce sighed and walked into her living room, leaving his shoes on.

"I don't allow shoes in my home," she said to him and he ignored her and sat on the couch.

He pulled his checkbook out of his jacket and began to write.

"How many zeroes?" he asked, hearing his words slurring.

She sat across from him and shook her head.

"You've really had a terrible evening haven't you?" she asked.

"How much do I owe you for the potions?" he asked, ignoring her again. "You sent me that damned text so you clearly want to be paid?"

She tilted her head and looked at him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Twyla asked.

"You've shown me the truth," Bruce said, accidentally dropping his fountain pen.

"And that would be?" Twyla asked.

"That would be..." Bruce began to answer but then stopped. "Ah...you're trying to use my drunkenness against me. I see. It's not your concern."