So this is in honor of my Birthday! Not really, I just wanted to write and this was the perfect excuse. So here it is, please request, I need ideas, and special shout out to those who review, I love you, and please request and keep reviewing!
Love,
~Ren
Joker crumbled. He shattered whatever sanity was left, he drew on a smile with her eye-liner to redeem himself in his eyes, but it didn't work. Nothing he tried worked. Booze, killing sprees, bank robberies, even fights with Batsy did nothing to sedate his incessant need for her.
She was gone in a blink of an eye, and no one really thought much of it, thought of her as a disposable play thing, but then he deteriorated right in front of their shocked eyes. He held her favorite revolver in one hand and the ripped remnants of her favorite dress in the other , her perfume over-bearing and poured out on floor, her clothes draped over chairs.
Johnny Frost was at first surprised by the Boss's infatuation with Harleen Quinzel, but now, now he had to deal with not only a crazy crime boss, but also a heart-broken and completely mad crime boss. Joker had ordered Frost to find Harley Quinn, but the Bat had taken Harley somewhere Underground, meaning there was an impossibly low chance of Frost ever finding her.
Over the course of one month, Gotham had lost all fear and respect for J, he had become an introverted hermit, focused only on his games of solitaire dangeir, as Harley called it, where for every game he lost he would do something ridiculously insane, something so absurd it would make her giggle with malicious glee. But low and behold, his Harley Quinn wasn't there to concoct some horrible painful scheme, wasn't there to laugh or to dance in his plummeting clubs which his henchmen struggled to maintain, but without the special touch of the King and Queen of Gotham, they quickly fell below par.
Eventually Joker fell so deep into inanity, so deep into his need for her, his already screwed up mind developed a Harley persona, telling him what to do, what not to do, which henchman to kill 'cause they looked at her funny. It was a vicious torment, though one he allowed himself to absorb. He felt something in his dead heart, something Johnny had diagnosed as guilt.
Mr. J had had an impossible amount of inner battles waging at once, but now he felt empty, like her voice brought the life into his chemical bound brain.
Joker had even contemplated suicide, but then decided against it. No, he would find Harley, and while he did so he must revel in the pain and surprising physical and emotional torment.
One day Frost burst in on the Joker, who'd lost his absurd dress style while in his zombie-state, and looked down at the man he once respected, but now respected a whole great deal more, because the infamous man actually cared about someone.
"Where is she?" Joker had managed to claw the sentence out.
Never before had Johnny been able to answer that horribly haunting question, but now, now he could.