Blood Ties

Chapter 2 -A Sporting Joke-

Deathstroke slammed the crime prince of Gotham into the wall, holding onto the man's purple coat with both hands as the cement he crashed the Joker into cracked spiderwebs. The armored man was fueled by rage but was trying to keep his cool, it didn't help that the Joker was purposefully pushing his buttons, just shy of beating around the bush. Deathstroke was ready to beat the bush with the madman until he was just as purple as his obnoxious coat.

The Joker let out a deep chuckle, lifting his pale skinned head to face the metal covered face of the mercenary, though he could imagine a snarl underneath, such was the magnitude of hatred showing through the single gray eye.  A few misplaced green hairs fell into the clowns dark cold eyes, a trail of blood escaped his mouth, proof of previous attempts to get the clown to talk.

"We both know that wasn't Joker Venom." Deathstroke growled, "What was it?" He punctuated his question with another harsh slam into the wall, the Jokers cruel smile never wavered.

"I'm innocent! I never meant to harm the boy blunder! Though I admit it was entertaining..." The Joker drawled while trying to raise his hands in surrender, but he was firmly pinned by the outraged mercenary.

Deathstroke growled and twisted around, thrusting the Joker into the ground, a hand around his throat. The Joker still smiled, though his eyes widened just a bit, enough for the mercenary to see his new tactic was working.

"You didn't hurt him. Who was it?"

"For a couple of mercenaries... you do seem to fall for the same old tricks." The Joker said cryptically with a lazy roll of his eyes, keeping that creepy smile plastered all over his face. Deathstrokes grip lessened just enough for the man to answer, but pressure was quickly reapplied.

"I'm not the Bat, I won't hesitate to snap your neck." Deathstroke pushed all his weight into the hand over the Jokers throat. The man flailed as he attempted to get air, his eyes widening fully and his smile stretching into a frown. "Who did it?" the mercenary asked again, his steel grey eye glaring at the floundering mad man.

"Al-ight... a-righ..." Joker choked out, Deathstroke held him a second longer for good measure then released him.

Deathstroke stood back, arms folded, waiting for The Joker to get his breath back. The man in question scrambled to his feet, coughing and rubbing his throat.

"You're right about one thing..." The Joker grumbled with a side glare. "You are not Batsy, it's no fun when everything just gets blurted out. These things have, very, intricate, timing." Each time the clown paused he rose a his hand and seemed to pin something in the air, stressing the words he was 'pinning'.

"Joker..." Deathstrokes voice rose slightly in warning, reinforcing it with a threatening step forward.

The clown rose his hands in surrender, but was not impressed. "Alright! Alright! Party pooper... If your little mini death boy had looked up he might have seen his real attacker."

"And that is...?" Deathstroke asked, regaining from tapping his foot or lunging at the man, he was becoming increasingly impatient. He didn't have all night, it took him long enough to find the mad man, now it was late enough for the Bat to be prowling. The mercenary had other things to attend to, but this was at the top of his list. Dick had been immobile for a solid day now, it was just this afternoon on the second day that the boy had awoken. Dick tried to prove his ability to function through completing routine tasks, but Deathstroke ordered him to rest because the acrobat didn't get past picking up his socks.