A/N: So this is my first try at a Joker and OC story that I have ever published online. I know a lot of people ship Harley and Joker, as do I! She will be in this though! I wanted to do something different and thought that I would give this a try. This is going to feature a lot of mature content so if that makes you uncomfortable, I suggest finding something else! Please be kind and leave me some reviews! I am wondering if I should even keep this going! So let me know!

The water was tinged red.

It was scalding hot as it came rushing from the showerhead onto the petite female underneath it. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her hands resting against either side of her neck. Each of her fingers was stained with blood. The blood that was dripping down her body and staining the stark white tub. Her head tilted down to watch as it spun down before disappearing into the drain. Flashes of the night were traveling through her mind. Images that she wished she could erase.

Her own father had made her do it, said that it had to be done. There was blood on her hands and it was all due to him. The man that was supposed to be protector had pushed her over that edge. He had forced her to take a life to prove herself to him. That she was a worthy heir for when he was no longer around. God forbid something happen to him and he didn't have a son. Ever since she had been born she had been paying for not being the son that he desired. After she had been born her father insisted on trying again and again.

Each time it had resulted into a miscarriage or stillbirth until the fourth time.

The fourth try not only took the baby but the mother that she desperately needed.

The brief glimpses of happiness that had been provided by her mother were stolen from her. After the funeral, her father treated her worse than before. Half the time he didn't acknowledge she even existed let alone resided in the same space as him. Until she got older and he decided that she was all he had left. She was his last hope to keep the family business going.

He had thrust the revolver into her hands that had been trembling.

She hadn't even known who the man was or what he had done to deserve to die. He had been placed in front of her while her father's men circled around them like buzzards. They were there not only to prevent the man from escaping but to prevent her from running away. What had been what she thought was a mere night out with her father had been morphed into something else. Her own father was shouting at her to do it or he would make sure that she was punished. He would make sure that she understood her place.

One of the men had shoved her forward gruffly and mumbled something about how she needed to do it. That man had been the same that had escorted her to and from school growing up. A man that had been more a father figure to her than the man whose last name she carried. She had chanced looking at him to see the look in his eyes. There was a look on his face that was a mixture of not just worry but pity.

The gun was held in her grasp, the barrel pointed towards the man's forehead. The nameless man who wasn't even begging for her to spare his life. What made it even more perplexing was the fact that he didn't even look nervous. More of her father's men had begun to shout just like her own father was. The noise, the gun and everything else was overwhelming her. It was as if her finger had a mind of its own, squeezing down on the trigger.

There was a loud bang followed by blood splattering all over her. His body dropped down to the floor with a thud. The gun was being taken from her hand only to be replaced with a switchblade. Another order was given, to cut his eyes from his head. It was meant to be a message to whoever his employer was. Even though it disgusted her she went to move towards the lifeless corpse. A sob wracked through her as she brought the knife down towards his face.

Bile traveled up her throat only to go back down as she did what she was told. The eye balls were taken by one of the men who had a box waiting. After that she had fallen back, feeling the blood that decorated her hands. A look of shock was on her face but she didn't make a sound. Tears were cascading down her cheeks, her make up sliding along with it. No one said a word and her father merely yanked her up by her arm roughly. She was thrust into the arms of one of his men who had been ordered to take her home and see to it that she had cleaned up.

The water had been running so long that it was starting to become cold. That fact didn't make her move, instead letting it run over her frame. As if it would wash away what she had just done a mere hour before. Her fingers were sure to become prunes but that didn't matter to her. It took her a few moments to begin to move, starting to scrub at her skin as hard as she could. She scrubbed it until it was nearly raw. After she turned the water off she quickly stepped out of the tub. Her arm extended out to grab the fluffy grey towel that was waiting.

It was wrapped around her frame and she turned towards the mirror. Her hand reached up to wipe at the condensation that had formed to look at her reflection. All traces of what had happened that evening had disappeared. Though there was something different about her and she knew it. She felt as if she had aged ten years due to what she had done. Her sopping wet hair curled, sticking to the sides of her face. Her bright green eyes seemed to have become dull.

A purple tooth brush was in the holder that she quickly loaded with toothpaste. She wanted to get the taste of bile out of her mouth if it was at all possible. Her movement was vigorous as she brushed. Quickly she spat and wiped her mouth using the hand towel. Even if she didn't want to, she forced herself to turn and go into her room. On the floor was the bright blue dress that was stained with not just sweat but blood. It had been expensive like most of the items in her closet. Only the best for her even if she was nothing to her father. Their family always had an image to maintain. Even on the day of her mother's funeral she had been expected to look perfect.

She went to pick up the garment to toss it into the garbage can that was in the corner of the room. The towel dropped to the floor and she hurried to put something else on. That something else ended up being a long sleeve white shirt and a pair of yoga pants. Instead of drying her hair she put it up into a twist before diving into her bed. The blankets were pulled tightly around her almost as if she was in a cocoon.

It didn't take long for sleep to claim her.

After all she felt like she would sleep for days.

Three days passed before she saw her father again. He had barged into her room in the middle of the afternoon, dressed in a nicely pressed suit. It looked brand new and was probably worth more than she cared to think about. His hair was neatly combed and he smelled like cologne.

"Get dressed," he barked, looking around the room before his eyes landed on her.

She had been curled up on the window seat, merely staring out the window. That day it was raining, big fat drops were hitting the window. Before she had his footsteps, she had been watching as they slowly trailed down the glass. Even if it was in the middle of the afternoon she still wore her pajamas.

"Meredith," he stated, his jaw clenched," Get dressed and be downstairs in ten minutes."

It clicked for her at that moment that he must have had some sort of event to attend. One of the many to try to keep his good image up. No one needed to know that he was just one of the many crime lords that ruled the underworld of Gotham. To most of the public her father was merely a very good businessman who did what he could for the people. She knew for a fact that he donated to multiple charities a month. A man like him could afford it.

Meredith forced herself to nod before she climbed from her perch. The second that she began moving she was left alone, the door slamming shut swiftly. After forcing herself to take a breath she made a beeline for her closet. Due to the size of her wardrobe it was a walk in. Some of the items still had price tags on them, fresh from the store. From the way that her father was dressed she knew that she needed to wear something on the nice side. Though she hoped that he wasn't setting her up for something else, some other test.

After slipping on a plum colored halter style dress she went to find the right kind of shoes. Those ended up being a simple pair of black peek toe pumps. A black cardigan was thrown over it and she went to try to fix her hair. Fixing it ended up being putting it in a low side ponytail. By that point her time was up and she hurried down to the foyer of their home to meet him. He was glancing at the Rolex that he was so fond of. When he realized, she was standing there he merely motioned for her to head out the door. There was already a town car that was waiting for them.

She barely said a word as she climbed in and made sure to scoot to the other side. The last thing that she wanted was for her father to claim that she was crowding him. He was climbing in behind her and the driver shut the door. Her father hadn't even looked to see who the driver was. They always used a service and usually it was the same man.

The driver was quickly getting into the driver's seat and soon they were joining ongoing traffic. Meredith knew better than to try to start any kind of conversation. Instead she stared out the tinted window, watching everything going on outside. Sometimes she felt like she lived in a bubble, a separate world. No one could ever understand what she was put through and it was all because of a man who was supposed to love her. All he had done was make sure that she was looked after by a nanny and that she kept a good reputation.

Thirty minutes went by before the silence was broken.

"Where the hell are, you going? This isn't the right way! This isn't even the right part of town!"

Meredith realized that her father was shouting at the driver who didn't even flinch. Most people were frightened of her father but not the driver. In fact, she swore she saw him grinning in the rearview mirror. His eyes met hers for a moment before he was suddenly jerking the wheel. The force of the turn made her father's body smash into hers as her own hit the door. Her head slammed against the glass and everything was starting to become a bit fuzzy.

"I'm afraid there has been a change of plans," said a voice that she assumed belonged to the driver.

The car was starting to slow down and was pulling into a warehouse of some sort. It looked like one of the ones that her father owned and ran his side business out of it. No one that wasn't a part of that world knew about that. There were so many things that no one knew.

Her father was cursing, sputtering and looking around bewildered. The engine was cut off and the driver was getting out only to come to the side of the car she was on. The door was yanked open and a hand grasped at her arm. A surprised cry ripped from her the moment her body was tugged from the car. Another man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere was grabbing her father in the same fashion.

It took her a second to realize that the man was wearing a clown mask. What did that mean? He was also sporting a gun, holding it in his free hand. They dragged the pair of them towards the back where there were others waiting. Her body was being thrown forward, carelessly.

She barely could catch herself using her hands, knowing her palms were likely scraped. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her father was next to her. His breathing was heavy and she knew that he was angry. It was easy to sense even without looking at him.

"Do you have any idea who I am? Do you know what I could do you?" he roared through that only got him shoved into the ground.

The other men were standing above them, each wearing masks. Some wore clown masks but there were others. Each one of them was holding a weapon. None of them made a move towards them though. It seemed like they were waiting for someone or something. There was a tightness forming in her chest and she wasn't sure what to do. Tears threatened to come out that she tried to hold back.

No noise was made for at least eight minutes.

A loud bone chilling cackle suddenly echoed throughout the warehouse.

"Well what do we have here?"

The voice was familiar and undeniable. It was a voice that every person in Gotham knew. The voice that belonged to the clown prince himself, The Joker. His face had been plastered on every single news station for months. Everyone had thought that he would be safe locked away in Arkham but he had proven them wrong. Everyone had heard the story about how his so-called therapist had fallen in love with him only to aid him in escaping. She had become his Queen to those that lived in the underworld. Everyone that kept up with the news also knew that she was gone, having been caught by the Batman.

No one knew where she was or if she would ever come back.

"Clown!" her father spat, his eyes narrowing," What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

Meredith forced herself to look up even though a very big part of her was scared to. Only a few mere feet away from her stood the man that frightened thousands of people. He had put the world on its axis and had done so with very little effort. He looked just like he had when she had been watching him on the plasma screen in her bedroom. His skin looked white, white from head to toe. There were the many tattoos that decorated his frame. He was grinning which let everyone see the grill in his mouth. He was even wearing the bling that she thought most didn't wear.

"You did something you shouldn't have," he stated in a sing song voice, moving closer to them," You took something I need and there is no getting him back."

Meredith was instantly confused, not understanding what he was speaking about. What had her father taken? Or rather who had her father taken?

"That asshole that you thought could intimidate me?"

"Didn't do a very good job, did he?"

The Joker was crouched down now, in front of her father. His arms hung limply at his sides, covered by purple rubber gloves. He had a curious look in his eyes. He reached to pull at the collar of her father's shirt, forcing him upright somewhat.

"Word is that you had your little heir get her hands dirty."

All the attention was suddenly on her. His words made all the confusion instantly wash away. The man that her father had made her kill was one of the Joker's men. Apparently, he was someone who was very important to him for whatever reason. There was no knowing why he was important to the Joker. Half the time what he did or didn't do made zero sense. There was no rhyme or reason to it.

Meredith could hear the Joker moving towards her though he didn't stand to do so. His gloved hands were grasping at her chin, yanking her into a full on sitting position. All her weight rested on her legs and she didn't know what she should do. One thing that she was certain of was that she looked like a deer in headlights.

"The heiress herself," observed the Joker with a chuckle," Looks more like a scared little kitten than an heiress."

Her father wasn't yelling at him to keep his hands off her. Instead he was watching the Joker closely, probably wondering what he would do next. Meredith knew that she was in trouble and it was all due to her father. Her stupid father who had wanted her to prove herself.

"Did daddy have you send me those eye balls kitten?"

Meredith's lips parted but no words came out. That caused the Joker to laugh, clearly amused. He reached to run his fingers along the side of her face almost like a caress. His touch caused her to flinch but that only seemed to encourage him to keep going. His fingers were wandering up towards her hairline.

"I did-didn't know," she stammered out," I didn't know he was one of yo-your men."

"Of course, you didn't," cooed Joker, his face suddenly inches from hers," You are just the innocent little kitten, aren't you?"

"Shut your fucking mouth Meredith!"

Her father's voice caused the Joker's head to turn. He looked annoyed at the interruption and he produced a knife from his pocket.

"Be quiet," he sneered," Or I'll markup that face you are so proud of."

That threat was more than enough to shut him up. His vanity was almost just as bad as his pride. Again, the attention was back on Meredith. Her chin was once again being grasped by the Joker. His eyes were scanning every single inch of her face before drifting down towards her body. For some reason, it made her feel exposed even if she was fully dressed. There was an urge to wrap her arms around herself but she didn't want to move. No one knew what might set the Joker off, after all, he was unpredictable.

That was only one of the things that made him dangerous.

"Was it your first time? Killing someone?"

Meredith barely could nod, not wanting to speak. Part of it was out of fear of the Joker and the other was fear from her father. If they made it out of the mess they were in, he would surely do something. If she ever did something he deemed wrong, there was always a consequence.

The Joker's tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. From the look on his face he almost seemed to be deep in thought. He was looking from her to her father than back again. There was some sort of plan forming in his head. No one was speaking, the only sound was her father's labored breathing.

"Tell you what," stated the Joker with a flourish, letting her go only to rise towards his feet.

He was walking back towards her father but didn't crouch down. There was still a thoughtful look on his face as he looked from her to her father.

"I'll take something of yours," he said with a grin, twirling the knife between his fingers," I'll take the kitten and we'll call it even."

"Done."