3 months earlier -
"Give it up Joker you're surrounded," Batman said sternly."Hahahah!" The Joker cackled like a hiyena. "You always-" The Joker started to say, but was interuppted by a gunshot. The sound rung out in Gotham, it sounded louder, but it must have been because of who it hit. The Joker looked down at his chest, there was blood dripping out. "Th-That's," The Joker was cut of yet again, but this time by his own blood. He began coughing out blood, choking on it. He couldn't help it, and know one could understand it, he laughed. It was a laugh for help, but it was his crazy laugh. Everyone stood silent as the scene before them unfolded. They had no idea what to do. They'd been dreaming about this moment their entire time in Gotham, the death of the Joker. The one who killed without thinking twice. You could hear the choppers from news helicopters, and his laugh. No reporters reporting the scene, everyone staring blankly. Even Batman, the Dark Knight, the savior of Gotham, stood still. The Joker's knees collapsed and he looked at the sky laughing as if trying to curse the world, raising his arm. Eventually his laugh became quiet, and soon silence.
Yet no one stood there more confused then Harley Quinn. The Siren herself, confused. The Joker had pulled many ruses that involved him dieing, yet he always told her. She couldn't handle it. Couldn't comprehend it. Her Joker, the thing she held most deeply in the world was laying on the ground, the silent he had ever been. She limped over to him slowly, a wound she had received from their chase keeping her from walking properly. Her mallet scraped the concrete, and it seemed to drown out until it was a constant ringing in everyone's ears. With her half steps it seemed like years until she reached her dead loved one. She knelt next to him feeling the cold ground her hands going to his face. Teers rolled down her face and she started to sob. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders and she shook him violently. As if he was faking it, and doing this would break his acting. But it wasn't, there was no ruse, no trick, just a dead insane criminal with clown gimmicks. "No!" she yelled at the sky. She threw her head back screaming and crying, thrashing about like a little child. "No!WHY?!, he can't be dead. GET UP!" she continued to scream at the lifeless body. At this point people had begun to move and talk, police men, and two men wearing EMS uniforms came to the Joker. 'No one cares, He's dead and they don't even care!' she thought. Harleen Quinnzel drew her gun and aimed it at the crowd. "Stay back!Stay-" she broke down, and Batman grabbed her hand and led her to the Arkham van. It wasn't a strong commanding grip, but one of tenderness and comfort. Although she was a criminal, he understood loss, and tried to sympathize with her. She got in the van, and didn't even bother trying to fight it. The Arkham van was a metal, bullet proof box that had chains and neck cuffs to restrain patients. Batman and Harley's gaze's locked. She just let her teers fall, and she shook her head. Still in disbelief of what happened. It became a blur after the doors shut and she was chained up, and she lost consciousness as they sedated her.