Where could I go?

Ok…wherever Peter was, it looked like shit. 

An abandoned amusement park definitely seemed like the place the Joker would hide out, if the whole dirty scary clown aesthetic was something to go off of. The dim street lamps illuminated what used to be stalls for carnival games and rides that probably shouldn’t have been in service in the first place. He was sure that when this place was fully operational, it was probably a beacon of entertainment in this extremely sad city. But now? It looked like a shell of the place it once was, Peter is convinced that there's at least a couple ghosts roaming around this area.

The van pulls up outside of a large building with a laughing clown face on the front. It’s just as dilapidated and sad. Over the years, rain wore away at the paint, making the features in the face stretch down unnaturally. Faint light peeks out from drawn curtains in the eyes.

These guys really stick to their aesthetics huh?

The inside of the building doesn’t look much better, the wooden floors were rotting and there were noticeable cracks in the walls. Furniture was tipped over, some broken to make something entirely new. People sit on crates scattered about the room. When the Joker enters, they all stand at attention.  

As the Joker steps into the room, addressing the people inside, Peter takes more time to glance around. Some walls were covered with posters of various circus acts, on the far side of the room was a dartboard with a childish drawing of…someone? The paper was riddled with dart holes and the drawing itself didn’t look like anything Peter recognized, it was a very spiky drawing for sure.

It’s kinda funny how cliche this place is, I guess that’s the point though…

He was led to a room that Joker proudly proclaimed was ‘spruced up just for him’. This room was similar to the other parts of the building, cracked walls and dilapidated flooring make up most of the room. In one corner was a small mattress, in the other was a desk with a wooden chair that has definitely seen better days. As sad looking as it is, it’s definitely an upgrade from the camping cot and toilet in the corner. Connected to the room was a bathroom with a slightly shattered mirror, at least he gets a shower. Just thinking about how long it’s been since he’s showered makes the dirt and blood crusted on him much more uncomfortable. 

Joker claps his hands together. “Alright! You get yourself comfortable and I’ll come grab you later to meet the gang!” He wore that smile that Peter was sure would be in his nightmares tonight. Before Peter entered the room the Joker grasped his shoulder and spun him around, leaning into his space and forcing Peter to stumble back a step. His eyes bore into him just like when he was outside of the fight house, beady circles make his spider sense go wild. The usual buzz increases to a heavy thrum that matches his heartbeat.

“Prank? Don’t fuck this up…” The Joker laughed at Peter's stunned expression, promptly closing the door and leaving Peter in his dim ‘new’ room. He moves over to his mattress, a thin twin sized that has some stuffing leaking out already. Laying on it proves his suspicion that it’s definitely been used before, but it is a modicum better than the cot. Peter closes his eyes, hoping to whatever deity could hear him that this entire thing was a dream. 

When he was little, he would hide under his blankets and try to wake up. He did that a lot after his parents passed and he was sent to live with his aunt and uncle. They were so understanding, they really tried their hardest. But Peter was a kid, he was so confused. It was only when May entered his bedroom and calmed him down that he would feel better and he would cuddle up with her and uncle Ben for a Star Wars marathon.

May…

What would she think of him now? What would his friends think of him? At least now that they don’t know he exists he can’t put them in danger again. He misses May and his friends more than anything. But too many people that got close end up dying. Throughout everything he was the common denominator. It seems fitting that he should be punished for it. In the back of his mind Peter knows that his friends are better off not knowing him. 

Before he gets too lost in his thoughts, the door to his room opens again. He half expected Aaron to be there, telling him to get up for his fights today. Not anymore, though. In the light of the doorway stood the Joker, beckoning him to the main area of the building.

Joker led him to the center of the large room, brandishing the remote for the device on Peter’s neck. He called the attention of everyone in the room over to the pair. At least 30 men filled the area, each brandishing at least one weapon and a degraded clown mask. Peter’s breath caught in his throat, he truly had no way out. He can’t leave while this place is crawling with gang members and this stupid device is on his neck.

“Since you’re new to the gang I’d like to start off with a few icebreakers!” The Joker swung his arms out as the gang members drew closer, encircling the two. “So Prank, what do you like to do for fun?”

Does he actually want to know? Is he actually trying to get to know me? What should I even say? It doesn’t seem like he’s actually trying to get to know me, like this is a-

Burning hot pain rockets through his body, Peter crumples to the floor to the sound of the members around him laughing.

“Too slow! I’ll ask again, what do you like to do for fun?”

Peter gasps in a few breaths for a second, trying to lift himself back to his feet. 

“I-um I like science?”

Joker smiles at that, satisfied. 

“Good to know! Maybe you’ll be useful in more than one way then! Not just muscle,”

As Peter stands back up, the Joker starts speaking again. 

“Around here we have two rules. Just simple stuff, nothing important…though I do ask you respect them or else we’re gonna have trouble,”

Peter nods, bracing himself.

“First rule! The Joker is always right!” Joker looks towards Peter expectantly, clearly wanting something.

Pain sprouts though Peter's body again, forcing him to his knees.

“Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you to repeat them for me,” Joker looks down at Peter again, face contorted into a cruel smile

Peter clears his throat. “The Joker is always right,”

“Good! Good! Second rule,” Joker leans into his next words with a heavy tone. “If you cross me, I will make you suffer,” 

A shock jolts Peter again, a choked noise exiting his mouth unwillingly.

“If I c-cross you, you’ll make me suffer,”

Another shock spreads through Peter's body, lasting longer than any other shock today.

When the buzzing in his body starts to subside, and he can regain some of his hearing, he can hear the Joker’s mad laughter coupled with the laughter of the gang members surrounding him. 

“This is just too funny! Watching you writhe on the ground like that!” Joker gasps out between laughs. 

Tears threaten to spill as Peter gasps for breath on the ground. It’s embarrassing, its mortifying-

It’s what he deserves.

A small, betraying, voice in the back of his head tells him this wouldn’t be happening unless he deserved it. He just needs to be better.

With a final shock, Peter is sent back to his room and told that tomorrow he’ll be helping out with a few of Joker’s ‘chores’.

When he enters his room, he sits on the thin mattress. Tears threaten to spill as he curls his legs up to his chest and rocks slowly. It doesn’t do much to calm him down, but he continues to rock until his heart stops beating so rapidly.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be here, so he might as well take the opportunity to shower. At first no water comes out of the showerhead, until a sputtering stream spills out of the showerhead. It’s ice cold, as expected. But it’s still something to get him clean. As peter scrubs his hands and hair, flecks of blood make their way down the drain.

When he finishes the shower he’s cold, scared, and clean.

Laying down on the mattress again, Peter think’s about those nights with his friends when they could just relax and watch movies together. Drifting off, Peter does his best to remember the good moments.

In the middle of the night, Peter is woken up by a piercing shock. Distantly, he can hear laughter somewhere in the building.

—

When Peter wakes up, it’s not to someone griping at him to get up and fight. Sitting up from the bed, Peter does a once over of himself. For the first time in months Peter feels surprisingly good. Besides the ache in his stomach, he doesn’t have a new injury that would impede his performance.

He gets up from the bed, padding over to the bathroom. 

Staring at the mirror in the bathroom, he sees tired eyes stare back. He hadn’t been able to actually look at himself since…since everyone forgot. It looks like he’s aged a million years, but he probably looks better without blood spattered all over. The wonders a shower and sleep could do.

On his neck, that stupid device sits. A small disc with barbs on the sides to latch into his flesh. His healing factor wasn’t able to push it out, since it’s been there for so long it’ll probably scar. Usually he only scars from seriously big injuries, like a seriously intense bullet wound or a building crushing him. Since it’s on his back he can’t see it, but he’ll always remember the pained noise that left Mays mouth when she accidentally walked in on him changing, seeing his married back for the first time. 

On his first experimental attempt to touch the device he’s rewarded by a solid few seconds of blinding pain before regaining his bearings. When he starts to come back to, he realizes he took a chunk off the corner of the sink with his strength. Shit.

Trying to quickly pull on it yields the same results, even if he wanted to remove it, the shock would stop him from grasping the thing correctly. He’s stuck with this thing and no foreseeable way out.

The barbs in his skin start to feel itchy, the quiet of the building starts to become too much as Peter continues staring at himself. This is the face of someone who’s hurt people who don’t deserve it, of someone who’s killed. His eyes start to water and he quickly wipes the tears away, he can’t cry again. Not right now.

He barely registers the door opening and a familiar face walking in.

“Awe, pondering over your tragic backstory?” Joker’s face appears behind him in the mirror.

“Let me guess, you’re wondering what you did wrong to get here? What did you do to put yourself in this situation?” 

Peter doesn’t respond, opting to exit the bathroom and stand opposite the Joker in his small room. 

“If you’re not going to tell me, I'll have to take a wild guess… was it just plain old bad luck? Were you paying off a debt?”

Peter doesn’t answer as the Joker keeps prodding. Crossing his arms over his chest protectively.

“Don’t tell me it was some self sacrificial bullshit, ‘oh please take me instead!’. That’s so overdone,” The Joker waves his hands in the air pacing as he makes his point.

An annoyed huff involuntarily escapes Peter's lips as he uncrosses his arms, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Oh so it was that! Pranksy, I'm learning so much about you! So who'd you try to save? Mommy and Daddy? A friend? A lover?” The Joker wiggles his eyebrows playfully at the last mention, stepping forward as Peter pointedly glares at the floor.

Images of MJ flash through his mind as Peter tries his hardest to tamp them down.

Stop that. It’s better that she doesn’t know you.

“I’m going to guess your lover by the way you’re staring a hole in the floor. How sweet! Though, you should probably know it was in vain…” The Joker makes a pouty face, sticking his bottom lip out before cackling at Peter's surprised face. The Joker is trying to get under his skin, and it’s working. He knows exactly what to say to push his buttons.

“Shitty stuff still happens, honestly you’ve probably just taken away her only protection,”

Peter sees red.

With a growl, Peter lunges forward to wrap his hands around Joker’s neck. He can’t fucking say those things. Not about MJ, not about his friends. He’s protecting them, helping them in ways they would never understand. 

Before he can get close, white hot electricity pulses through his body and Peter falls to the floor, jerking violently. The sound of Joker’s laugh ringing in his ears as his body keeps convulsing. Warm tears flow down his cheeks as the crackle of electricity starts to leave his system, leaving him as a heap on the floor, twitching involuntarily

“Oh Prank you are just too fun! Once you’ve -ahem- composed yourself head outside and start loading stuff into the semi trucks outside. Tomorrow is going to be very fun,”

As the Joker leaves the room, Peter lets himself cry before leaving to do the Joker's bidding.

When he gets outside, he looks like a mess but luckily nobody says anything. They’re loading huge boxes into ten semi trucks. Peter works on lifting the boxes to put them in the semi’s while the rest of the goons work on strapping the boxes down and connecting wiring to a remote device, when Peter scans the devices he immediately recognizes it as some type of remote detonator. It sends an uneasy twinge through his spine, what the hell are they doing? After his efforts, he’s clapped on the back and told he did a good job handling the boxes.

Peter tries not to preen too much at the praise. 

—

When the Joker talks to Peter the next day, he’s softer than usual.

“Hey, you doing alright adjusting? I know it might be rough right now…” His tone is so soft, Peter can’t help but feel safe. He’s leaning on the doorway like a concerned parent after their kid came home crying. The Joker sits down next to him on the bed, motioning for him to share.

I guess it couldn’t hurt…

“Um…I came here kind of by accident to help protect people. I don’t even know where I am…”

Before he can register it, there's an arm wrapped around his shoulders and a comforting voice telling him it’s going to be okay. Peter can’t help but lean into the touch, trying as hard as he can to believe that what the Joker is saying is true. It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong by the way his skin starts itching the moment the Joker makes contact with it. The buzzing at the base of his neck increases, though Peter tries to pretend it’s not there.

For just a minute, Peter pretends he’s safe.

“It’s ok Pransky…how about this, I’m gonna go grab something and we’re gonna get ready for a day of fun!” He chuckles, swiftly standing and jogging out the door. The feeling of safety is immediately gone when he says ‘pranksy’, instead replaced by a churning in his gut.

Peter sits and waits for the sound of the Joker’s footsteps returning. When he enters again, it’s with a palette and brushes.

“Are you ready to become your true self Pranksy?” He lifts the item gesturing towards a palette full of colors. He says ‘true self’ so confidently, as if this is where Peter is supposed to be.

He asks Peter's favorite color, he responds with red. 

While the Joker works, he tells Peter stories to fill the silence. He tells him about the people in Gotham who try to stop his fun, of a guy called Batman and his sidekicks. Apparently there were a lot of them. 

He tells him how to get under Batman's skin, he’s supposed to mention someone called Robin and talk about how he couldn’t save him. Whoever that is, he opts not to talk about them. Peter has already told himself he’s not going to say anything, he usually tells jokes during fights with villains. This is the first time he’ll be one of the villains.

While he’s sitting still, he jolts from random shocks of electricity. He tries to stay still, he really does, but his body reacts without thinking when the electricity courses through his veins. Each time he moves, the Joker chastises him for moving while giggling maniacally. Shame courses through him.

When he’s told to look in the mirror, Peter can’t help but choke back a sob. Red paint mars his face over a white base. Messily draw lines form the classic pattern of clown makeup, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose. There's clear splotches where he was shocked and the brush moved on it’s own.

He looks horrible. He looks like the Joker.

Joker claps him on the back, congratulating him on his ‘new face’ and handing him a set of clothes to put on. 

When he’s changed he looks in the mirror again before leaving for the Joker’s ‘fun’. A red top with black accents adorning his neck and forearms, paired with black baggy pants with combat boots rest on his form uncomfortably. This whole getup makes him uncomfortable.

He looks like a weird homicidal jester, but that seems like the Joker’s motif so far.

He’s corralled to another van, as they head to their new location Peter looks out the window trying to gauge what kind of a city Gotham is to house a man like the Joker. He already knows it’s shitty but it can’t be that shitty.

Right?

—

When they arrive at a warehouse in a worse for wear looking area, Peter is told to go find a hiding spot and to come out when he’s called. As he starts to look for a spot the Joker wiggles the remote and tells him to ‘not try anything funny Prank, that's my thing’.

I seriously can’t stand this guy.

He settles into one of the support beams that reaches from wall to wall up near the ceiling. It’s decently dark up there and if he crouches to make himself small he’ll be unnoticeable. On the drive over he heard chatter about how this ‘Batman’ guy was gonna ‘get what's coming to him’. Apparently he was going to fight whoever came with him while the Joker tried to execute his plan.

As Peter crouches on the beam, he waits for the inevitable shit show that’s about to occur.