A/N: Hey, everyone! :) This is my first attempt at a Joker story, taking place during The Dark Knight. I really loved the Joker in the movie, and just his whole character in general, so I wanted to try and write this. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter, as I know it's just introductory and establishes a few things for later on, but if you like it, or you have any comments or suggestions, please review! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Dark Knight trilogy. All I own is Cora, and any other original characters. Now on with the story! :)

I thought that I was dead when I opened my eyes.

Everything was white, pure as snow. It was so white it burned; I had to give myself time for my pupils to adjust. It was like I was trying to peer straight at the sun.

I glanced down at myself, eyes blurring with tears. I was laying on my back underneath a thin sheet which reached just above my shoulders. There was the sound of rain pattering against glass. I'd always liked that sound, whether it was hail, thunderstorms, anything; we got them a lot in Gotham.

Cold, sterile air was filling my lungs with every breath. Shivering, I noticed the wires. There were lots of them, but I wasn't attached. There was a chair in the corner, a sink by the wall. Hand-rails on the sides of my bed. Buttons and blinking lights. The clock on the wall said 23:08.

I traced the miniscule dots of my lightly-patterned gown. I'd never worn one of these before and inwardly revelled at how it rustled like newspaper. I lifted the sheet and checked on my body, testing my arms and legs.

The assistance button next to the bed caught my eye next. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and reached for it. There was a click and I lay there listening for the shuffle of shoes. Spotting a clipboard attached to the rail at the foot of the cot, I wasn't yet weirded out to find that the forms were still blank from my info.

"Hello?" I said after about a minute, my voice raspy.

I pushed the sheets to one side and edged out of the bed. My bare feet hit the cold and I bit my lip with the shock as I quickly treaded over to the door on tiptoe, turning the handle and opening it out onto the hallway.

I wondered if I was seeing things. Then I felt my stomach give a lurch – earthquake? Electrical fault? Why else would an entire floor of people have disappeared?

Fluorescent lights droned high up above me on the ceiling and the hallway seemed to yawn, the stillness and the silence merging into one long, lingering breath.

Just then there was a stab of pain in my forehead with a swell of pressure that blossomed so fast I found myself gagging. The world swerved and I leant against the wall, gritting my teeth, but it was already waning as fast it had come. I pushed myself to my feet, heart pounding in my throat, and I craned my head back towards the room I'd woken up in. What the hell had happened while I was out?

I had to find someone. Wincing, I set a steady pace towards a sign to the nearest stairwell, trying not to panic. I couldn't be the only one left in this building; there had to be more of us. I turned a corner and stumbled to the window at the far end of the corridor but couldn't make out anything past the rain that was coming down in sheets now, lashing against the glass and blurring out the night.

I found the stairwell, holding tight onto the rail, following it all the way down. I think I already knew by then.

My feet carried me into reception. The storm seemed even louder here. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, neatly-trimmed hedges were bristling with the weight of the downpour, twigs scraping the panes, casting flickering shadows across the linoleum.

"Hello?" I said again, not even expecting a response this time. A ripple travelled down my back; I was standing right beneath the air conditioning grate. Rubbing the tops of my arms, I neared the revolving doors of the hospital entrance and peered as best as I could out into the gloom.

The rain and the dark combined made it impossible to see anything past ten feet. I took a step closer and squinted, knowing I was staring right into the parking lot but not able to make out a thing; there could have been a hundred people out there for all I knew.

I turned to head further back inside, but a shape had just slid into view, though it was still too far to pick out anything more than rain pattering off a pair of broad shoulders. They looked hunched against the weather.

My lips parted to call out to him, mouth dry as anything, but the sound died in my throat as the same piercing twinge shot like a blast through my head. I grabbed it and dug the heels of my hands into my temples, trying to relieve the pressure, and as my vision refocused my heart thudded at the pair of eyes staring back at me, now close enough to see.

I stumbled backwards, still clutching my head. I felt the stairs behind me and bolted up them, something deep in the pit of my stomach urging me simply to run. My feet squeaked as I skidded back down the hallway, pushing my way back inside the room with the bed and closing the door. With no lock, a piece of wood was the only thing separating me from the person outside.

I needed something to protect myself with. Whirling around to launch a frantic assault on the room for some kind of makeshift weapon, my eyes landed on the bed and a sense of paralysis hit me. There was nothing physically different about how I had left it, sheets pushed to the side; it was the shadow beneath it, something both pulling me and pushing me away at the same time.

A sense of déjà vu filled me as I got to my knees, remembering how I used to do this very thing when I was little before I would climb into bed. I bent my head, dropping inch by inch until I could see that the gap between the bottom of the cot and the floor was empty.

The relief hit me like a wave. I pushed myself to my feet, letting out a shaky breath that echoed off the stark walls. But that hitched in my throat: covered in the same sheet I had been under, pulled across to hide their face, a figure lay like a ghost on top of the bed. I felt my gown beginning to stick to my back with sweat; I knew I wanted to run, to get as far away as possible, but I felt compelled by a force that stopped me from moving anywhere else but forwards.

It pushed me right up to the edge of the bed, so close I was almost touching the mattress. My stomach was a tight, tense knot, a sadness that I could not explain settling inside me. All I knew was that I didn't want to see whoever was underneath the sheet. But my hand raised of its own accord, like I was a puppet on a string, taking hold of the edge of the sheet and beginning to pull.

I saw the blood. Over the hammer of the rain on the windows, I heard a high-pitched rush of laughter that surrounded me, encircled me, a hand clamping down across my mouth to stifle the cries that were escaping me.

Vaguely, I felt my eyes pry themselves open, blinking a little in the soft, white light. A bead of sweat was running down my temple but I was too numb to wipe it away, feeling almost paralysed. I swallowed to try and get some of the moisture back into my mouth as the last few strands of the nightmare seemed to evaporate from my head, leaving me now more confused than afraid. I sifted back through the facets that had decided to linger, my heart still hammering in my chest. I resolved to come to the conclusion that this was a good thing – at least, that was what I wanted to believe.

Pushing this out of my mind, I mentally checked my body again, wiggling my fingers and toes. My head felt heavy, a dull throbbing in my forehead. I grimaced, feeling a wave of nausea suddenly hit me when I tried to move. Keeping my head as still as I could, I glanced around me, taking in the same room from before. But this time there was a vase of flowers nearby on the desk, some decorative pictures on the walls. People were bustling around outside in the corridor, and the faint sound of traffic nearby met my ears. I let out a small sigh of relief, just as a smiling face of a woman in her mid-forties with kind, blue eyes appeared to my left.

"Ah," she said gently. "She's awake!" she called to someone across from her. I felt my brows furrow in confusion, unable to speculate who she could possibly be talking to. Yet before I knew it, a face had entered my peripheral vision, hovering over me anxiously, and in an instant, all remnants of what had just transpired dissolved, replaced by an overwhelming sense of comfort upon taking in each minute detail of my dad's familiar face.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with a crease between his dark brows. It was something he always did when he was worried. I felt a pang of guilt in my chest, hating the fact that I'd been the cause.

Realising that he was waiting for an answer, I thought for a minute. How did I feel? It was then that a sinking feeling took over my stomach as I let my mind focus back on my surprisingly vivid dream. The evil laugh that made my senses go on hyper-alert still echoed inside my head faintly, my body feeling like I'd stepped into a very cold room all of a sudden. I pushed it out of my mind for now.

"I feel okay, but my head hurts a little," I admitted, glancing up at the kindly nurse who was smiling at me reassuringly. Her name badge said 'Julie'.

"You've suffered some damage there, love," she said. "I'm sure your father will fill you in on the exact details later." She gestured with her head at my dad who was currently observing me closely, eyes narrowed in deep thought. I shifted uncomfortably. "But you have sustained a concussion," she went on more seriously, "so we'll have to keep you in for a while under surveillance. You'll be out tomorrow by the looks of things," she explained, giving me a soothing look as she spied the sudden panic that filled my eyes.

A doctor came in a couple of minutes later to check me over now that I was awake, taking a look at my vital signs and shining a torch in my eyes. The concussion wasn't too bad to my relief but it was procedure to keep a patient in overnight to make sure there were no relapses.

I also found out that I had woken up briefly about half an hour ago but had fallen back unconscious. This made more sense as to why the room was in my head and I had dreamt about it but not everything else that had happened.

I soon forgot about the nightmare altogether though at the sight of my dad's concerned expression, guilt blossoming inside my chest again. How worried must he have been? He'd always had a tendency to become overly anxious over things, checking things through with me again and again if it meant going somewhere new or coming home late. There was also his work: the Mob trials were this week. I sighed, shaking my head at my bad timing.

Once the doctor had left, he pulled me in for a cautious hug, which I returned gratefully.

"I'm sorry," I said guiltily, "for scaring you."

"No, I'm sorry, Cora," he replied seriously as he leant back, a muscle in his jaw pulsing. "Believe me, they're gonna have hell to pay."

Nothing made sense. Everything was blurry, my head still piecing things together. What I really needed right now was some answers.

"What happened?" I said, my heart speeding a little, but Julie had already stepped in.

"That's enough of that, Mr. Garcia," she said sternly. "You may be the mayor, but your daughter is currently a patient here. She needs rest and calm for now. You can tell her in the morning when she's feeling better."

I sighed, knowing I wouldn't get anywhere if I tried to argue. Julie didn't seem like the sort of person who would budge once she had set her mind on something. I would have to find out tomorrow, though that seemed a long way away right now.

My dad stayed with me until late in the evening until even he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. It was nine-thirty when Julie voiced my opinion that he should go home and get some rest while I did the same here.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, pulling me in for one last careful but strong hug. I nodded.

"See you then," I said, letting him kiss me on the top of my head before he let me go and then finally left the room.

I sank back into the headboard, feeling horrible. It was clear that he felt responsible for what had happened this morning, and seeing as I couldn't give him any evidence to reassure him, there was nothing I could do to convince him otherwise. Slumping down into the pillow, I felt beaten. All I wanted now was to get home and prove to him that I really was okay, just a headache that a couple of aspirin soon took care of.

It was late in the evening at this point, and though Julie and I chatted a little whenever she popped in, I realized how tired I was. I had lost my cell phone anyway, which meant that I had no contact with the outside world as it was. With nothing else to do, I figured that I might as well go to sleep. I had all of tomorrow to think about the events of today, anyway. But all I saw when I closed my eyes was the stark, white walls of the room I had woken up to in my nightmare, the sound of the crazed, blood-curdling laughter rushing all around me, and a pair of dark eyes that followed everywhere I went.