I won nothing, except OC characters and plot. The joker is based on Heath Ledgers version. Mistakes and critism will be welcomed but I'd of course prefer positive ones. I will try to update as soon as I can.

Chapter 1: Meeting the Joker

A woman walked, though it was more of a skip, down the corridors of Arkham asylum.

Dr Maria Parker wore a dirty white coat that was given to all doctors that worked there, though everyone else's was clean. Many argued, amongst themselves but quite loudly, that she belonged in one of the loony rooms rather outside of them. Her icy blue eyes were startling, the lightest blue to be seen in eye colour. Her white complexion, bordering sickly, was flawless, not an imperfection in sight. She wore no make up either, which was unusual for woman in the asylum. Sickeningly, the employer and a taste for the more loose women and he hired many. But Maria was not one of them, which made her unappreciated amongst many fellow workers. The deep burgundy hair that cascaded down in ringlets was a thing of beauty. Yet it was that unnerving, scary grin that was permanently on her face that stopped any from fully appreciating her form.

Maria Parker was an anomaly, a mystery that no one wanted to solve.

Maria would arrive everyday at the asylum, exactly five minutes late. There had never been words exchanged between Dr Parker and the other workers that resided in the unkept Asylum since her interview to be accepted into the staff, though it was arguable that she was accepted just because of the shortness in number of said staff.

Maria only spoke to the patients, and that was only when it was absolutely necessary, glaring at any guards that even thought of listening to her voice, preferring to listen and watch. So no one even knew what her voice sounded like.

Gotham had many convicted criminals sent to the asylum; it was a get out clause of any crime. Plead for insanity. Murderers, arsonists, Rapist and gang members alike lived in the padded white rooms quite comfortably. This was because Gotham was corrupt. Rules had no meaning there. It was a waste of time by the blue clothed pigs to try and change what is already there. Gotham was made of crime. The heart and soul were black and not many people knew that better than Maria.

It was something about her air that just screamed raw instability. She would sit on her own at breaks between shifts and giggle to herself. Occasionally she would even eat with the other patients, though still sitting at her own table. She was held dear by most patients, worming her way into the insane minds and supposed hearts.

Today was different for Arkham Asylum, for it had a guest that was feared by everything.

The Joker.

All except one felt the panic and trepidation for having the ruthless, crazy killer in their buildings. The patients were being unusually frantic, drugs not able to calm the growing panic. Quite a few were in their state due to the Prince of Clowns. Whispers of carved smiles and blackened, wild eyes were spoken in sessions, no matter the counsellors' attempts of stopping this.

Though, Maria was a different story, as always. She listened avidly to all the talk of the Joker. All the patients would whisper with the occasional twitch of what they had heard of the clown. The cards, the green hair and that religiously held knife that painted for the man, though quite a few argued that the Joker was not a man. Nothing but evil personified.

Maria watched from the edge of the scene as the mad man was led into the building, shackled and blindfolded as he walked. Paint was still smeared on his face, though missing in some places. Later, Maria found out that people were too scared to come too close to his face, as he went for the last person with his teeth alone, ripping at the jugular. The greasy hair that was still clinging to the famous green colour hung limply. The tightly fitted brace to stop any movement held the lean body.

And there, on either side of his mouth, lay the scars of a lengthened smile. They were obviously messily done, healing done no better, but to Maria, they were a thing of beauty. So individual. So truthful and captivating. The Joker was truly handsome in Maria's ice eyes.

The manic laughter that escaped the mangled, cracked lips of said scarred man was continuous, with the occasional break to try to calm his breathing. It was endearing to see. Heart-warming.

A laughing angel Maria thought to herself.

She wished to see the eyes to the man, have a glimpse of the famous crazed eyes that were spoken of often. Maria loved eyes. It was perfect windows to the soul.

All too soon, the joker was led out of sight, his laughter now only a fading echo.

Determined, Maria moved to the desk that was situated behind a thick glass window. The woman sat behind it was near the same age as Maria, in her early twenties. However, she contrasted greatly with Maria. The woman and her breast popping out of the skin tight shirt as if they were trying to escape, which was catching the eyes of many males, and a few females, as they walked past. And she knew it, flaunting it with such vulgarity. No class, pathetic.

The bleached blonde lay hardened with hairspray, surrounding her makeup caked face, similar to the Jokers face painted one.

She has nothing on my Joker.

Maria stopped short. Her Joker? It took a minute for it to solidify in her mind. The voice was true. Hers.

Unaware of the possessive epiphany, the painted whore turned to Maria and flashed a reluctantly given fake smile.

'Oh, Miss... Whatever, what can I do for you?' Normally, she would come up with an insult, however, just behind her sat the manager of the Asylum, unaware of the glares that were being exchanged between the two female workers.

Instead of speaking, Maria handed in a sheet. A request. To treat her Joker. She was giddy at just the thought, which showed at her ever growing grin.

Looking at the sheet, the girl snorted and whispers to herself 'Figures. Freaks stay together right?'. That wiped the grin from Maria's face. She insulted hers. How dare she? The image of the blood spurting from a beautiful thin line on her slim neck formed in her mind. It would not take much. One precise slice and then it would be bye bye bitch. That placed the smile back on her face.

Blowing up her gum in her face, sadly not even her scratch on her pathetic stick neck, the girl looked at Maria and spoke with her usual monotone.

'Well, you're in luck doctor, as you have already been assigned to him. No other person volunteered to have their face ripped off by that wacko-' Everything else was drowned out as Maria let an excited giggle escape. That caught the girl and stopped talking, starring at the silent, used to be, woman. 'Urm, yeah... You start this evening at six thirty pm today.' With that, the girl turned back to her magazine uncomfortably.

Maria's heart stuttered. She was to see her angel tonight? So early? Is she presentable? What will he think? Will he approve of her?

All the questions swirled in her head, blinding her from everything else.