The Last Laugh
By: Dark Midnight
Why?
Why me? They were always thoughts he heard. Not his, no, of course not. He was never weak enough for such ungratefulness. Someone else was lodged behind his eyes, using his voice. His hand moved as though puppetry guided it to his face. "Ugh." He moaned at the touch. So cold. The paleness seemed to radiate beyond the edges of his face and into the darkness. His hand ran across his green hair causing a smile to ripple through his cheeks.
"Lovelier, today, than ever." A small laugh erupted from his chest. "Why me? Because only I could handle this wonderful monster!" His shouts to the voice seemed to go unheard for they only echoed to the back of his mind. There they stayed, empty.
The grin quickly turned to chagrin and his mirror frowned back at him. The red lips reaching for his chin shook a moment as if awaiting comfort.
Outside his walls the man heard a crash. "Snuckums! I'm home!" A female voice ran rampant under his closed door. He groaned stepping out of the bathroom and into the hall.
He found her in the bedroom wearing…not much at all. "Why, hello funny-man." She said seductively.
He found himself smiling again, loving the sight. But why? This is so… He knew it wasn't about her being in this room, in this bed, or in that outfit. No, it was about her just being there. Her warmth was what he craved, longed for. My weakness.
He was caught between advancing and remaining stationary. To go to her, would be giving in. He was strong. To take her would be failure. I want this.
He compromised with himself by sitting at the edge of the bed. Hands tightened on his shoulders easing away stress.
"What's the matter, Joker?" The woman slithered herself across his chest leaning her face against his head. "Come to Harley. She'll make it better."
"I…egh." He struggled for the correct statement dissolving himself into her, melting away.
"No." He mumbled standing away. "I…have things to do." He shuffled out of the room listlessly. He heard her whines breaking pieces of him, but he didn't cease until he found the kitchen. Love her?
His eyes glazed over as he searched the fridge for something to satisfy the beast within his cavities. "Turkey requires a clean knife." He muttered only to himself and only he responded. He let the door slide from his fingertips while he paced to the sink. The long, sharp knife he longed for lay dirty at the bottom of dishes. Reluctantly, he turned on the tap and scrubbed it.
How do I settle this? Make her leave? The knife slipped slicing the tip of his finger. "Yes," His own voice answered his thoughts. "Let's make her leave."
He pulled away from the sink, but the water still ran bouncing out onto the floor. He held the knife behind his back before calling through his home. "Darling, could you come here for a moment?"
There was a 'hurray' heard from afar before she skipped into the room. Some bells she wore bounced on her thighs. "Did you need something, darling?" She started drawing closer to him, but he held out his free hand.
"Lean against that wall, please." His crimson lips turned up at the corners.
"Like this?" She asked, back against the wall, legs slightly separated.
"Perfect." He nodded as he sauntered toward her tightening his grip on the knife.
She beamed at him content she had satisfied him.
He was caught off guard. She gave herself fully to him, openly and without hesitating. There she waited.
Weakness?
She didn't move as his hand caressed her cheek. Her eyes locked with his.
"The time has come for you to leave." His voice was stark.
A silence raged between them.
He lifted the blade swiftly almost bringing it down.
"Please!" She begged holding her hands in front of the knife. "One last request."
The Joker chuckled considering it to be a joke. "Yes, go ahead. One last request."
She shifted her feet and dropped her hands. "Kiss me goodbye."
The ach of desire pulsed throughout him causing his hand to constrict on her cheek. "Yes." The Joker agreed dropping his smile. "I will kiss you goodbye."
Fluidly his head tilted on to hers their mouths meeting in frenzy. He tasted her sweat and tears along with every emotion he felt. Keep her?
Hold her?
Sustain her?
Too quickly for either of them to notice the blade was plunged deep into her gut. Her eyes rushed open as if searching for a reason, but they never found his.
He didn't stop kissing her until blood gushed into his mouth and flowed down around his chin.
He released her completely and she slid to the floor limply. His eyes watched her lay for moments utterly motionless.
Why me? The voice returned longing to feel the heat her body once carried. Unable to express the proper sentiment, he laughed.
He fell to her body, laughing. He took her inert shell into his arms, laughing. He went on in life, laughing.
End
An: The relationship between The Joker and Harley has always been one that interested me. I was always curious as to what he was thinking when he was with her. How did he balance out the love and the hate? Who was more important to him Harley or Batman?