Paper Planes

VIII

A/N: Am I the only one who literally screams when they show Heath for the first time? Yes? Ok.

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"Because once I didn't care about the rules anymore, I had all the power."
—Adam Glass

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"East End, right boss?" Spalding confirmed, latching his seatbelt as he ignited the engine of the van.

"Uh-huh." Joker grumbled, crawling into the back and taking his spot on the bench.

Bleaker filed into the front seat, Horton close behind him when Joker suddenly spoke up.

"Horton," He barked.

"Yes sir?" The pudgy man squeaked, his voice slightly muffled by the plastic clown mask that shielded it.

"Back here-ah."

Horton's heart clenched in his chest, eyebrows raising as he observed the empty space on the bench next to the painted face man, whose lips tugged into a playful grin as the palm of his gloved hand tapped three times onto the cushion, as if to invite the man over.

"Now." He pressed.

"Y-Yes, sir."

Bleaker raised an eyebrow, masked by his disguise as he closed the passenger door behind him, observing closely as Horton rounded the vehicle and climbed in through the open back doors, the toe of his boot accidentally kicking one of the gym bags as he stumbled inside.

"Wa-tch the guns, Hort." Joker calmly scolded, scooching a bit to the side so that the man could take his spot next to him.

Horton's heart began racing in his chest the moment he slowly took his seat, furthest away from Joker as he could. The madman picked at his nails, his back hunched as he leaned forward in his seat. His pink tongue darted outward to graze his lips as he tapped his foot rapidly.

"Do you really think that Gordon will come?" Horton lightly asked, his voice uneasy as Joker eyed him.

"Let's-ah, hope so, Horton." He grumbled.
"I highly doubt he'll-uh, turn down any information on the infamous Joker, now will he?"

Horton stirred in his seat, the van bouncing down the uneven pebbled pathway as the Joker swiftly retracted a switchblade from his pocket, flicking open the blade with his gloved thumb as he turned it over in his palms, inspecting the keen cutting edge of the knife as his gaze flickered over towards the trembling henchman on his right.

"What're yah all-uh, jumpy for?" He pried, an eyebrow raised as he twirled the blade between his fingers. Spalding and Bleaker remained dead silent in the front seat.

"It's n-nothing, sir." Horton stuttered.

"Horty-Hort-Hort-Hort-on." Joker muttered under his breath, suddenly shifting back in his seat as he straightened his shoulders, rotating his hips sideways so that he could face the man a bit more fully. "Y'know, yah kinda re-mind me of this-uh, kid I used to know."