The doctor walked out of the back room, his apron and scrubs covered with blood and ash. As he removed his gloves
he shook his head.
"Joker, she can't take much more of this, she's lucky to be alive this time, even that mess Ivy gave her can't keep
her alive forever." He said removing his mask. He was an older gentlemen. Weary looking from being woken up in the
middle of the night to come tend to Harley.
"You aren't on my payroll to give me advice doc, and unless you want to be permanently removed I think you should
keep your opinions to your damn self," Joker growled angrily.
The doctor shook his head again and quit himself of the Joker's hideout. Mister J's henchies blindfolded the man
and led him to a car.
Joker sighed and entered the makeshift operating room. There Harley lay lifeless, her face had been cleaned. Part
of her hair had been shaved to get to the gash. He could see fresh stitches amidst bruised and purple skin. The
wound looked downright angry. Gingerly he reached a hand out and placed it under her chin, turning her angelic
face towards him. He surveyed her features, darkly lashed eyes, petite upturned nose, soft full lips, his eyes
roamed the rest of her, her harlequin suit torn in places.
"Boss, Mista J," one of his brood appeared in the doorway, "the doc's gone, what do you want us..." he was cut off.
"Make yourselves scarce." Joker said curtly, not bothering to look up at the man. Without a word the henchmen left.
Now alone Joker sat Harley up, unzipping the outfit she wore and slipping it over her shoulders. Laying her back
down he proceeded to peel the rest of it down her naked body. Fresh black bruises mixed with older greenish ones
spotted her skin. One on her hip in particular stood out.
He smiled remembering how she got some of those bruises and continued to undress her. Flinging the tattered
clothing to the floor he moved to pick her up. Her head lolled as he carried her to the bathroom and placed her in
the tub. Looking down at her vulnerable body all sorts of fiendish and depraved things skittered through his warped
mind. He pushed those delightful thoughts aside, for now he would just bathe her.
He had never been known to do things like this, not in front of anyone that was. And if Harley was even slightly
coherent she would be doing it herself. He turned the water on and let it warm up before grabbing a washcloth and
soaking in with soap. Gently he ran the cloth over her abused and dirty skin, the water running gray from the
cloth. He took his time, grazing the rough material over her breasts, down her stomach.
He decided to conduct an experiment and let his slender fingers slide between her legs where he gently rubbed
circles. She didn't respond. She must really be out, he thought. The thought of taking advantage of her while she
was unconscious made his pants a little tighter around the groin. He put it from his mind, he didn't want to damage
her farther.
Once he was satisfied with her cleanlyness he pulled her from the tub and towled her dry, then he walked her to the
bed and slid her under the covers. Her breathing was shallow, she had yet to make a noise. After tucking her in he
sat in a chair opposite the bed and watched her. Folding his hands together he sat...silence filled the room.
Somewhere between five or six in the morning he dozed off and didn't wake untill the following evening.