Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I was inspired by the song Pierrot the Clown by Placebo
Warning: Abusive situations and cursing.
It was after times like these that she didn't know why she stayed with him. She would always feel so used and abused when she woke up bruised and sore from his fists pounding on her body. Harley would often find herself being flung across the room and crashing against some furniture along the way as Joker would scream at her for being 'pathetic' and the 'source of never-ending stupidity'. Fire would rage behind his cold, merciless eyes and he would scream at her for things she could not control. Sometimes he would only smack her around but there were other times when it would take a month for her to heal from her wounds.
He wouldn't attack her until she had healed and he would leave her alone as she recovered. The morning after was always the hardest but it never took long for her to forgive him for striking her. He would then act like nothing happened and he would be playful with her. Then the cycle would repeat the next time he struck her.
Last night had been one of those nights. She had been waiting for Mister J to return from a night of painting the town red by reading a bridal magazine and humming to herself while picturing a beautiful ceremony starring her and Mister J as bride and groom. She was interrupted when the door crashed against the wall.
She had nearly fallen out of her chair in surprise and was about to ask what was wrong when she caught the look on his face. Fear flooded into her system as they made eye contact and he gave her a smile that chilled her to her bones.
"Haaaarley…."
His voice sang through the air, almost sounding playful if it hadn't been for the murderous stare he was giving her.
"M-m-mister J!" she stuttered nervously while unconsciously backing away.
He noticed her movements and his face grew darker. The smile on his face promised nothing but pain for her mistake in trying to put some distance between them.
"What do you think you're doing? Hmmm? Are you…trying to leave?"
He slowly advanced towards her, unsheathing a small blade that caught her eye and filled her with dread.
"P-p-please Mister J. Please…"
"Please? Please?! Please WHAT, Harley? Please don't hurt me?" He mocked, pretending to shiver and cower in fear. "Selfish. Always thinking about yourself."
Her back hit the wall and she shook her head, not breaking eye contact with him.
"Where do you think you're going? Are you going to run to the Bat? Are you going to stop sniveling and not fuck things up for once?!"
Tears began streaming down Harley's face and smearing her make-up as his taunts and barbs struck and crushed her soul. He stood a few inches away from her, watching her shake as he twirled the knife around his fingers. She opened her mouth to say something but before she could, he backhanded her across the face, causing her to gasp and her back to strike the wall with a force that left a dent in it. Blood dribbled down her nose and down her face, staining her favorite white nightgown that she used when she was hoping to get lucky with Joker. As she attempted to recover, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back against the wall, bringing the knife up to her face so she could see the blade pressed up against her cheek.
She couldn't help the sob that escaped her throat, which caused his hand to tighten and to block her windpipe. His eyes glowed with the promise of pain and she knew that tonight would be a very bad night. She struggled to release his grasp on her throat but only succeeded in enraging him more and causing the psychopath to lift her up by her neck and slam her back against the wall. Spots swam through the vision and she crumpled to the floor as he released his bruising grasp. Her chest noisily sucked in precious oxygen and she tried to shake the fuzziness from her vision until a horrible pain coming from her scalp brought her pained senses to attention.
She yelped as she found herself being dragged on the floor by her hair. Her legs flailed in an attempt to turn and crawls towards him so she could ease the pressure on her head, and her hands gripped onto his to pry his fingers off her head.
She heard him growl and then turn to kick her. She heard a crack in her chest and a sharp pain shoot through her side. Her eyes shut in pain and her mouth formed an 'O' as she silently screamed in pain. She curled in on herself and held on to her sides as her legs drew up to her chest in order to protect her organs from his vicious attack.
"I love you."
Harley barely registered the words leaving her mouth. She had never spoken in the previous times she was attacked. As a matter of fact, she had never spoken those words to him before. She noticed that her abuser above her had frozen in shock. She flinched as the blade he had held struck the ground and dug itself in the floorboards. She slowly looked up, dreading that the attack would continue only to be relieved that she hadn't been hit yet. His face was blank but an imperceptible tremor in his hand gave away something that Harley could not translate. He didn't make eye contact with her but he didn't do anything as she unfurled herself and reached her hand out to lightly touch the slender ankle hidden behind his striped purple pants.
Harley didn't know what she was doing and her mind screamed at her in warning of her impending doom only to be proven wrong when he released her hair from his grasp and turned away from her battered form. The door slammed behind his retreating figure.
She waited for his return but after a few minutes of cowering in terror and wonder, she slowly rose off the floor and nearly collapsed from the pain that radiated through her. She slowly made her way past the desk and chair she previously occupied to the other side of the room where a dirty and stained mattress was kept. She was in too much pain to clean herself off and check her condition. She knew she felt terrible and probably looked even worse but there was nothing she could do but collapse on the mattress and hope that he would leave her alone for the rest of the night.
The next morning, Harley woke to her muscles and body groaning in protest at the abuse she had suffered. This time, she had had enough. She couldn't take this another. She had to leave.
Before she could move to get away, the door creaked open and the Joker entered, attempting to be quiet. Harley froze and did not dare to move. He had never come for her the morning after his abuse and she was certain that he was here to finish her off for good.
In her panic, she hadn't noticed a bowl of water he held in his hands until he was right beside her. She tried to force her vocal cords to work in order to plea for her life or to scream bloody murder, hoping to catch him off guard but her body refused to obey her. It wasn't until he placed the bowl down on the floor beside the mattress and sat beside her that her body began to roll away from him in a desperate attempt to get away.
A strong but gentle hand held her down by her shoulder and Harley could only gaze at his blank face with worry and pain clouding her eyes. She dared not fight him in case he decided to end her life then and there so she only closed her eyes, not wanting to see the final blow coming from the man she loved. She felt something cold and wet rub against her face and she flinched, opening her eyes quickly to find a washcloth wiping her blood and make-up away.
He…he was cleaning her.
In the whole time Harley had been with Joker and suffered through his abuse, he had never once been openly gentle with her. He had never washed her before and Harley could only stare at him, bewildered by the event. She snapped back to reality as a small hiss of pain escape her lips when he touched the bruise on her cheek.
He stilled in his motions until she had composed herself and resumed when she had quieted down. Harley obeyed all his silent commands to move this way and shift the other way as he inspected her wounds and cleaned her up. She remained silent for once and dared not speak lest the spell be broken.
Once she was clean, Joker gathered up the bowl and the washcloth and rose to leave the room. He was stopped by a hand on his wrist keeping him in a half-crouching, half-rising position. He finally made eye contact with her and with her hand acting as a guide, Harley tugged him down onto the mattress and she silently asked him to stay. She scooted towards the center of the bed, being mindful of her injuries, and he lied down beside her.
Her grip on reality almost failed her when she found her hand in his, their fingers entwining together as lovers hands do. Her heart beat erratically against her bruised ribcage and love swelled into her heart.
He was apologizing.
He may not have said the words aloud, nor would be ever, but he was apologizing. She knew then that there was no way she could leave him. Joker would never be a gentle, loving man. Nor would he ever give her a house with a white picket fence and two kids. But then again, she knew this from the beginning and she loved him regardless.
She also knew that he would hit her again but if this day was any indication of the future, he might one day come to love her as well. And for that, the abuse was well worth it.
I don't condone abuse and in no way do I support it so I'm sorry if this was offensive.