I'm really sorry if this sucks. This is my first time at writing character whump, so...yeah...I'm sorry that I haven't updated or posted anything in a while. I've been really busy with final exams, etc. Luckily, summer vacation is literally 2 weeks away for me, so I'll make sure to update and post more. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to say that I DID own YJ...I don't.

His blood mixed with the dirt and grime on the ground as it trickled from his damaged body. The thick, crimson liquid dripped down into his eyes: allowing him to see his crumbling world in a vivid shade of red. A razor-sharp stab of agony ripped throughout his entire from with every labored breath he desperately inhaled. A punctured lung would do that to you. His legs lay limp against the blood-stained metal floor, both settled at odd angles proving that they were broken. The skin across many of his limbs was stretched thin and pale: desperately trying to keep the shattered fragments of bone underneath from tearing their way to the surface. Appalling bruises of every size decorated every inch of his visible skin with splotches of blue and black: creating a strangely beautiful masterpiece of pure torment across his once pale and smooth skin. Weakness and pain flowed through his veins: leaving him limp and still. He couldn't sit up or even look up, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. He would have to see those lifeless yet still beautiful gray eyes once again.

He was broken: literally and figuratively

Though he needed the air, he sucked in and held a large, painful breath. Quiet rang throughout the room as his gasps for oxygen stilled for a moment. His ears strained to hear even the slightest hint of his companion's breathing, but he heard nothing. The silence deafened him and sent a chill zipping up whatever was left of his spine. Fear grabbed his heart in its iron clutches and froze it. No...she couldn't be...she HAD to be still breathing! She couldn't...just leave him. It was like the failsafe mission all over again: her dying and him not being able to save her.

Her screams had broken his heart and stomped on all its fragments. They had been set up by the Prince of Crime in Gotham himself. He had separated them from the team, and before they knew what was happening, they were in his blood stained and grimy clutches. After the Joker-that monster-had lost interest in finding new ways to put him through the most excruciating pain possible, he turned on her. That demon had dared to harm HIS spitfire: the love of his life...and there hadn't been anything that he could've done to save her. He had been left for dead only a few feet away from her, so he had heard every sickening scream and horrifying whimper that fell from her lips. Every crack or thud sent stabs of agony through his entire frame. His last memories of her were bloody and bruised...but at least they had both been alive.

Flash back: 3 hours earlier

The heavy bar of metal crashed down...again...and again...and again...and again...

The Joker raised his crowbar once again to strike the blonde woman at his feet, but those few seconds gave them enough time. Her face, though bloody and bruised, was still as beautiful as the day when the speedster had met her as she met his horrified gaze. Green met gray as they seemed to drink in other person's comforting presence in what seemed their last moments. " I-I love y-y..." Her bloody, pale lips curled into a loving, yet tired smile even as they trembled. "N-nev-ver for-g-get."

The Joker seemed amused at their last moments because he lowered the crow bar and cackled. "How sweet!" She ignored him and stared right into the love of her life's eyes. "Promise me." She whispered as blood trickled out the side of her mouth. Tears pooled out of Wally's eyes as he tried to shake his head. No. This couldn't be happening it was all a dream: a nightmare! It wasn't real! It wasn't-

"P-please, Artemis. I love y-you! Don't l-leave me-e..."

"I l-l-love you W-w-al-ly." She repeated and closed her eyes, going limp. 'NO! A-A-ARTEMIS!" His body lurched forward, trying to do something-anything-to save her, but something smashed down on his leg and pulled him away. "Aww! You two are so cute! Unfortunately," The Joker howled with laughter but stopped after a second. "I never let true love live." The clown's voice was suddenly deadly calm and serious. "You might want to look away for this part." He cackled and drew a long, rusted knife from his purple suit jacket. "I'm going to put a smile on this pretty girl's face!" The Joker pressed the blade against the corner of her cracked lips and sent him a maniacal grin before dragging the knife up across her cheek, creating a deep bloody gash that marred her once alabaster like skin. Anger coursed through the woman's partner as he watched helplessly, not able to take his eyes off the horrifying scene in front of him.

She never fought back or cried. Her whimpers and screams had stopped long ago. Those beautiful gray eyes of hers never fluttered open, nor did she even flinch as the crowbar bruised her flesh once more. Her chest hardly moved as she breathed, but she was alive...yet empty. She made no sound at all: like a doll. Her mind must have shut off, leaving only her lungs and heart to feebly work to survive.

The Joker tried, of course. He brought out his knives, acid, crowbars, a lighter, and even dry ice, but he got no more reactions from her. What really crushed the only witness to this brutality was that she felt every blow. She was still breathing and suffering.

He screamed, yelled, shouted, begged, and cursed to be the one receiving the blows the entire time. With every audible crack that echoed throughout the warehouse they were in, he felt as if his ribs were being snapped, too. He could feel the trickle if blood running down from her carved mouth on his chin as he watched. It broke him to see her broken...maybe that was what the Joker wanted after all: Utter hopelessness and despair.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************Joker's pov:

The Joker loved screams: that was a well known fact. However, the red head's cries for his own torture...it was quite irritating, honestly. So he stopped them by complying to his requests. It only took 15 hits from the Clown Prince's trusty crowbar to knock him out...at least it seemed like he was still breathing... His body was as limp and lifeless as the blonde girl' Joker felt his lips curl into a sneer. They were too...predictable. Sacrificing themselves to protect each other? Wasting their last words to tell each other how much they loved each other?

Pathetic. Disgusting. Stupid.

He drew a pistol from his coat pocket and stared at the two barely breathing figures on the ground in front of him. It would be so easy to kill them right there and then...but what would the fun in that be? All he would have was two dead bodies! He could crush them physically with his weapons, but he couldn't break someone's spirit as easily as he could an arm. No. It would take much much more to destroy someone's will to live. The clown cackled as he raised the gun and aimed. A loud "BANG!" echoed through the warehouse as he effortlessly pulled the trigger. He then strode out without even looking at the body. It was obvious that he didn't miss. Besides, he had things to do and places to be.

Present: Gotham City

Though it was excruciatingly painful, he pulled himself up to finally look at her. The Joker was long gone, but the results of his madness were forever to be etched into her features...literally. A bloody smile ripped it's way across her cheeks and ugly red burns covered her arms and shoulders. The words "HA HA HA HA" were carved into her bare abdomen like red ink across a sheet of blank paper. Large gashes delved into her hips, arms, legs, and stomach. That monster had stabbed her...repeatedly. Rage boiled through his veins, but he couldn't fight his own weariness long enough to do anything but stare at his own spitfire;His own goddess, Artemis: the archer...the once immortal symbol of the hunt.

Her eyes were shut...which made her look almost peaceful, like she was sleeping. But the the bloody hole in her temple marred the effect. She had survived hours of torture and pure agony only to be shot and killed off...like some sort of pest. His teeth gritted, but he couldn't stay angry at the moment. All he could feel was loss...sorrow...loneliness...regret... as his world came crashing down around him.

Hours later:

"Guys! I found him! I found Wally!..." His eyes wearily opened to see his best friend beside him, checking his vitals. He opened his dry mouth and tried to speak. "D-Di-." Dick shushed him. "Don't waste your energy. I've got you. It's over now. We found you!" Wally tried to shake his head. "N-n-no...Art-Artemi-" "What about h-" Dick's eyes finally settled on the broken blonde archer's body only a few feet away. "...Oh my god(s)...Wally, I..." Tears began to leak out of the speedster's eyes as the pain began to course through his body once again. "I'm sorry." Dick finally managed to whisper as he stared at his practical sister and teammate...and his almost brother's fiancé. "N-no. I'm s-sorry." Dick looked down into his friend's broken green eyes, even more troubled. "Why, Wally?" "I'm s-sorry I wasn't a-able t-t-to save her." The speedster finished quietly and looked at the love of his life once again: his own broken angel.