Of all the ways this day could start out, Edward hadn’t planned on waking up at 3 in the morning to odd sounding thumps on his studio door. Even through the thick metal, he could make out the uneven raps that sounded almost like knocks.
Pulling on a thick flannel robe to shield against the COLD of the late autumn air, he dragged open the door a few inches to see what was making the racket. And in that moment, s h o c k ran down his spine and tingled at his fingertips, inciting a whole new numbness to run through his body. But this was —
“…Mister Joker?” he questioned softly, already reaching out to steady the figure that looked more out of sorts than usual.
The notorious mad clown had been MISSING for months, and now out of thin air, he shows up on Ed’s doorstep? This reminded him of another well-known criminal who once searched for safe haven, covered in tar and feathers — the memory made him cringe and he decided there and then to get to the bottom of this.
“Please come in. I’ll make you a cup of something hot — you need it.”
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