Author's note: SS-verse, but could also take place in another version. I personally don't like the idea of SS Joker having a family before Harley, but it's up to your interpretation. Fluff.
Inspired by a tumblr request: "Maybe J is having some Jack Napier family flashbacks and instead of acting out aggressively he wants affection."

4. Paint It Black

"Promised I won't let them win
But all their words pull me back in
Fire, fire, I see red
I hear voices in my head"
- Moio, Myah

He wasn't a stranger to vivid hallucinations, nor imaginary mental images hitting him out of nowhere. In the constant blasting maniac state, they had to push their way forward, requesting audience, and if they were lucky they got a fraction of his attention. Finding unguarded moments, sneaking past the gates. One had been prominent lately.

If he gave in for a moment, he'd feel soft, brown hair between his fingers, stained with blood. An optimistic smile that grated his nerves, a calm demeanor, hands resting over a belly. It wasn't Harley, not at all like her, it lacked her electricity, her familiarity. A stranger's soft voice spoke to him.

I'd like green in the baby room. Like nature. Her pearly, bouncing laughter. What do you think, Jack? Help me hold these curtains! Come on, get over here! I found this cute baby mobile at Walmart -

Fragments. Pieces. Normally they were stored somewhere where he would never have to look at them, they could have happened a lifetime ago, in another universe – black and white like an old movie.

The entire world was black, anyhow. Her shiny hair became soiled by blood when he recalled the image, a blood stain growing over her belly, her hands, her smile as she told him to get away from the mirror, stop practicing for a moment, and help her with the decorative "it's a boy!" poster and all the other overzealous stuff she had bought at the mall. They couldn't really afford it, but she spared no effort.

Carefree. Careless, that's what she was.

Two cars had a frontal crash on the main street. The pregnant driver of the second car died instantly -

It could have been a movie he watched once. Not very funny.

Joker stepped out of the shower, pulling on boxers and slacks, as a familiar sound reached him. He avoided his mirror image intently, seeing only a gray skeleton in the misty glass.

Stepping into the main area of their penthouse his eyes settled on Harley's excited form, as she poured an unhealthy amount of dog food into the hyenas' bowls before stuffing her phone and keys into her five-thousand-dollar purse he had gifted her with last week.

Her movements were the image of familiarity, calm in the middle of their chaos. Humming to herself as she lovingly patted the hyenas spreading food and slobber over the floor, before she noticed his presence.

"I'm gonna see Red for a while! Bye, Puddin'! See ya later!" She was heading towards the door after blowing him a kiss, she was a whirlpool on high heels, the fluttering of her red lace-up dress and blonde locks.

Without thinking, he stepped closer to her. His hands caught her and gripped her waist, pulling her into his chest. Even with her back against him, he felt her confusion. He placed his chin on top of her shoulder for a moment, his grip around her softening.

"Mistah J?" She turned around, red lips smiling softly at him.

Not bothering to reply, he just held her close, feeling the overwhelming, almost nauseating smell of perfume; flowers and glitter and something metallic. It was the only scent he ever wanted to feel.

"I love you, J." She wrapped both arms around his neck, pushing his lanky body up against the wall with the force of her hips and thighs. "And I swear I won't let ya go around hurting like this."

Her subservient nature, the urge to make everything right for him, always, had once annoyed him more than anything. He truly craved it now, being soothed by her hands and words. She reached up and he pressed a kiss to her mouth, closing his eyes for a moment.

He allowed himself to sink into her embrace, letting his defenses down. In his mind, another woman's blurry face faded to nothing, along with the colors.

She was the blackness of the world turned into a fierce red, mismatched with vivid pink and intense blue.

x x

He was having a moment again. She watched his world break down without a sound, saw the sweat pouring down his face, knowing he was captured by those voices and images from a foggy realm. Breathing heavily, staring at something far away, trying to save himself. He never let her in to that inner world of his. It was just him, alone with something she couldn't even fathom.

She wanted to help him so desperately, chase it away for him, she would do anything to help him clear the fog. It was unavoidable, whatever was living in his mind would eat its way through the cracks and surround him every so often.

Harley knew she threaded on thin ice being so close; he might mistake her for one of the shadows if she made one wrong move, and end up with a knife in her thigh. It had happened before, and he wouldn't realize what happened until she was weak from blood loss, staining his shirt when he angrily pulled her close.

The voices in her head went silent just to accommodate to his, to give her room to think. If she started crying in sympathy, he would curl his hand around her throat and not let go, so she acted tough like he would expect her to. Like he needed her to.

His Harley never wavered, she did not need protection, she did not need to be saved. But she'd like to save him sometimes. It's the part of her that he hated. She would still stand by his side, the queen to the king. She would keep the composure, she would smile for them both on bad days.

She was his girl, the one and only, she was the empress, and she would be strong for him when he couldn't.

Looking into those swirling dark eyes, she saw the endless madness churning within. He grabbed a hold of her arm as if unaware of it. Simply keeping her as a pillar to lean on, among the shadows that crept up behind him. His grip was tight, as if she was his only connection to what he called reality.

Harley wouldn't kneel for him, not this time, she wouldn't cry in sympathy for his pain, she simply looked into his eyes. She wouldn't look away until he breaks eye contact. His grip on her arm tightens, and she won't give in.

She waited until he grabbed onto her with both arms, as if he wanted to shake her or strangle her but the strength faltered from his arms.

A thud reached her ears when he fell to his knees.

She forced back the instinct to stroke his messy hair, knowing she was not allowed to right then. In another situation she would pull it, scrape with her nails the way he liked it, but not right then.

He held onto her, smearing something wet on the front of her dress. He reminded her of a child sometimes, broken on the inside, a ravaging monster some days, but always the same man she fell for. If she were to go away, his grip of reality would shatter completely.

Once she did leave him, after a fight. She had been away for a week when he came barging in to the bar where she stayed, looking like a boy in need of his mommy, offering her the world again. Slurry, high and tipsy and paving the way with everyone who had ever wronged her. She had let him carry her out of that place, happy about being back where she needed to be. He had kissed her that time, in a way she still remembered sent shivers down her body. They were both smeared with makeup and rain and dirt and blood from a guy she had beaten up.

And he was hers, always. His crouched form in front of her was her sole comfort. The smell of gunpowder and musk calmed her aching chest, just as she knew her perfume and the smell of her shampoo was familiar to him, another thing to help him find his way back.

Together they were one entity, two parts of a whole. She knew, with his arms around her middle, holding her too tight, that she wouldn't have it any other way. When this passed, he would act like nothing happened, but none of them would forget.

She would protect him from himself.