THE SCREAMS OF the Robin terrified her. Joker Junior covered her ears, whimpering behind a crate. She could hear the dragging of a crowbar against the concrete. Her Papa's mad giggles as he taunted him.

"The Bat's not coming for you, little bird," Papa sung. Bones crunched and Joker Junior fought a scream. She covered her mouth with her hand, biting down on her shirt sleeve. The material bunched on her mouth.

"Shut the fuck up," the Robin grumbled. He spit at the Joker. She could hear groaning. Joker Junior rested her head on a crate. Why was she here? Why did Papa want her here? Why did Papa want her to see him kill the Robin? "He's coming for me."

"But little bird," Papa giggled. A thud rang through the warehouse, followed by a loud scream. "He hasn't come during all this time."

She flinched when another bone cracked. Papa was going to kill the Robin. The Bat had to save the Robin. He wouldn't let him die. Right?

She crawled behind the crates. Maybe she could ask to help? Joker Junior could pretend to hurt the Robin. Then set him free.

"He's coming, you dick." Papa laughed again. She heard the sound of metal meeting mush. She froze in her spot. Joker Junior brought her knees to her chest, closing her eyes tight.

"You're stuck her, little birdie. With me."

Another clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Joker Junior looked around. Nothing here that could signal the Bat. She couldn't do anything. The Robin was going to die.

And it was all her fault.