I awoke with a throbbing pain spreading across my stomach, though I knew my eyes were open I could see nothing. A cold solid floor was below me, my body had obviously been flung to the floor with force considering the pain radiating from my side that I lay on. Outstretching my hand my fingers quickly came into contact with a wall. Feeling around my area the room appeared bare, cold, and patches were covered in a water substance which I had a terrible feeling was escaping from my stomach where I could feel the pain erupt from.

Pushing myself to my feet, automatically bending over grasping my stomach. I was certain a few ribs were cracked and the gaping hole that had been created by the Joker had only barely been attended to - a punishment to remind me that if I was good, I would get what I needed. He certainly wasn't a man to enjoy being crossed.
Fury burned within me as I recalled what had occurred - I had no idea if Jane was indeed safe, if Joker truly was a man of his word, or how long I had been unconscious for. It could be minutes, hours, days. Jane at best would have no idea where I was, would be panicked and scared and no doubt have reported this to the authorities. Yet this time they would hear the story of how I put up a fight - I suppose then some news would insinuate I did stand for society rather than still be 'brainwashed' by the Joker and intend to rebel like so many liked to argue.

Stumbling around the bare room I finally came to contact with the other side, swiping my way around the wall, aiming to go from one corner to the next I sought for a door. With the place I had woken up in I assumed I would have been flung straight across the room. And with luck my hands finally slammed onto wood. Frantically I searched for a handle, my breathing rigid I could feel my body tempted to faint. Blood had erupted from my wound once again and I was losing it fast, the pain had become unbearable. But with being so close to leaving this room my body felt it was the best time to alarm me that I was in no fit state to continue a fight - rather than to go into fight mode. However, with determination I kept murmuring to myself 'c'mon, so close, just c'mon Jess!' and finally I touched metal.

Tugging and twisting at the door knob, which was obviously old from the stiffness and reluctance to move, it finally clicked. It had been left unlocked. A smile tugged across my chapped lips and tears tugged at my brown eyes, he hadn't left me for dead but instead with a fighting chance.

The door squeaked open, yet with my emergency to get as far away from the darkened room which had began to make me think I was blind, I paid no head. I would take anyone on outside this room if it meant I could have a chance at being outside and having sight again and preferably someone to attend to my wounds properly. Light poured through the doorway, warmth grazing my cheeks as I closed my eyes. A huff of laughter left my chest as relief filled me. Yet as I lifted my foot and took one more step a thin, solid object smacked across my stomach, directly where my injuries were situated. I bent over in agony, clutching at my stomach, a whimper of pain escaping through my lips as my eyes became alert to the familiar cane that was slowly being lowered and stationed at my side, his pale hand enclosed over its intricate embellished head. I could hear him behind me. Rising to my full height his warm breath across the nape of my neck causing my skin to prickle, yet the warmth was inviting even if sinister.

"Dollface" his voice whined quietly, his lips could be felt next to my ear. His hand slowly crept onto my shoulder and slowly traced down the length of my arm.

My lips trembled. My security and confidence I had previously had, the anger that had built up inside me, vanished. Instead I felt fragile, child-like, in danger. "J" I whispered, the consonant barely audible. My hair was brushed to once side of my back, flicked over my right shoulder.

"I believe you have something to say?" He beckoned.

Silence. Perhaps there was some strength still within me as I willed myself not to say that word. Not to apologise for my own situation. He had made all of this happen, he the one who beckoned everyone to rebel demanded only loyalty and conformity from his own people. Hypocrite.

"No." I responded finally after he had nudged me for a response, threatening another hit with his cane. A quiet rumble of laughter left his chest, every rumble injected with danger.

Slowly I turned to face him, his eyes appeared tired, the black that usually surrounded his eyes were hauntingly deep suggesting that he had slept less than usual along with the lack of lipstick smothering his lips. His green hair however was immaculate. His arm snaked around my waist as a grin began to flash across his twisted smile.

"Careful what you're saying, Jester", his eyes darted across my features which I could see in his almost mirror like eyes were not at their finest. Blood was smeared across my face and dirt smudged across my cheek from where I had been laying.

I knew this man would torture me. He would leave me on tracks just to save me when a train comes by. He'd abandon me in the cold and save me when the snow covers my body. The man was dangerous and my blood boiled with the inclination to slap him. I detested the man. He lowered himself to his knees, dropping his cane to the floor and lifting my top slightly revealing the disturbing gash that was swollen. His face contorted with a variety of expressions, then he began to replace the taped stitches which were beginning to fall off - trying his best to fix the situation as much as he could at that time - he rose once again to his feet and sighed. He slid a hand through his intoxicating green hair, his warmth surrounding me as he placed a hand on the side of my neck, his thumb rubbing my jaw line delicately. This was also the man whose eyes appeared to have sincerity, fear, and love swirled in them. I melted. For some unknown reason as much as J revolted me I was inclined to still search for the good in him, or at least enjoyed the thought that he would express some kind heart to me. I tried to push the thoughts down, fighting with myself about who the man before me was. Good or bad? Loved or hated?

"I hate you." I seethed through my teeth before flinging my arms around his neck and pulling his body closer to mine. Dammit.