The Last Smile
There was a light. She could feel it burning through her eyelids and feel the slight heat it was giving off. She slowly opened her eyes. It was white and bright and filled her vision with intense shine.
Am I dead? Is this heaven?
She tried to sit up, but something pressed down against her arm, stopping her.
"Shhhh", a voice whispered. A female voice. "It's going to be ok". She felt a hand gently stroke her forehead, moving her hair out of her face.
"Can you hear me?" The voice asked quietly, still stroking her head.
She nodded, trying to sit up again.
"No don't. You need to stay very still. Close your eyes and try to relax".
"Why?" She asked, her voice deep and hoarse from lack of use.
"Your very ill. I need to find out what's wrong with you".
"Who are you?" She asked, but did as she was told and closed her eyes. "What's wrong with me?"
"I'm a doctor", said the voice. "I'm going to try and fix you".
"What's wrong with me?" She asked again.
"I don't know". Said the voice. "No one knows".
He stared at her hands, just her hands. He couldn't bring himself to look anywhere else.
At least they were the same. No rotting skin or red blotches. Just the soft, smooth skin he knew.
A strange feeling washed over him, a slight bubbling sensation brewing in the pit of his stomach that made him want to reach out and grasp her hand. He scowled, forcing his eyes to follow the sleeve of her jumpsuit back up her arm to her face, his imagination seeing the peeling red skin underneath.
What the hell is going on?
"What's wrong with her Boss", asked Rocko, poking his head around the door.
"How the hell should I know!" He exploded. "I'm not her god damn baby sitter!"
"Don't shout so much Puddin', you need to watch your blood pressure", came a small voice from the table.
He turned around in surprise, ready to scream at her for telling him what to do, but remembered her...delicate...condition. He swallowed his anger (he'd find someone to kill later) and forced himself to smile at the woman lying on his desk, clenching his fists.
"Baby", he smiled, "Your the greatest".
She smiled and moved to sit up, hoping to put her arms around him, but instead rolled onto her side, covering her mouth with her hands and tried to mask the loud sounds of her whooping coughs.
The Joker's smile faded slightly. "Harley?" He called, slight distain and impatience lacing his tone. "Harley, what the hell is wrong is you, you pathetic waste of space?"
She brought her hands away from her mouth and looked up at him.
The sight made his smile vanish completely.
She tilted her head to the side, confused. "Puddin', what's wrong?"
"Jesus Christ", exclaimed Rocko from the back of the room.
She looked across to him, but caught sight of her reflection in one of the windows around the managers office and let out a blood curdling scream.
Her mouth was covered in blood, blood that was so dark it was almost black and so thick that it was slowly dripping down her chin onto her jumpsuit.
Her hands were also covered, the liquid smeared across her skin from when she had coughed, leaving thick trails across her lips and checks.
Her scream set off another fit of coughing, this time she could feel the blood make its way up her throat, causing her to double over and spit it out, leaving blood splotches on the Joker's desk and on the floor.
Rocko ran over to keep her from falling onto the floor, patting her back soothingly.
"What do I do?" He asked, looking to the Joker for instructions.
What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO! WHAT THE HELL DO I DO?
"Get out", he said calmly. "Go find a mop and bucket or something and clear up this mess".
Rocko nodded and with one final glance at Harley covered in blood, he left.
"I'll send some boys in the clear it up", he said as he reached the door. "And I'll just be in the loading bay if you need anything".
"No". Joker's low tone, made me him turn around.
"Boss?" He asked nervously. Joker was infamous for his cruel nature, but it was very rare Rocko got any punishment.
"I said no. No one is to know. It's just you and me and her", he said, sending Harley a disdainful glare - she bowed her head, obviously feeling guilty.
Then something happened Rocko had only seen once or twice - and in very different circumstances.
Joker walked over to the desk Harley was lying on and sat down in the chair next to it, letting out a defeated sigh and put his head in his hands. "You useless, annoying brat", he growled, obviously talking at Harley.
She lifted her head and stroked his hair lovingly. "Oh Puddin' don't be angry with me."
He batted her hand away and stood up, his usual disposition back in place.
"Now look here Rocko, only you and I know of Harleys current...state. And it is going to stay that way. If Penguin or Two-face or any other wack job in this place finds out about her, this could get messy".
"Erm...Boss?" Rocko scratched his head nervously. "We might not be the only ones".
Joker was on him in a second, kicking his legs out from underneath him and pressing a knee onto his chest, while holding a knife to his throat. "What do mean 'not the only ones' hmmm?" He asked dangerously.
"Well, erm. There were a few guys". The knife pressed deeper into his throat. "Er.. I think they were two-faces guys, they might have seen her".
Joker's eyes squinted in hate and the knife actually drew blood before he stood up and straightened his tie.
He walked over to the window that overlooked the Industrial District and leant against the window frame, watching the snow fall outside against the broken neon lights. Most were falling apart, the colors flashing now and then. The only building that didn't look broken down was the large wall leading to Gotham and Strange's facility.
Strange.
He closed his eyes as he remember the conversation they had when he first arrived in Arkham City.
"I'm looking forward to observing you in your new surroundings".
"I'll give you...how shall we say this...resources...you'll be needing".
"There must be someone who you might wish to...protect".
"You'll be needing my help if you wish her to live".
"You don't know".
True he didn't know then.
But Strange had, somehow he had found out what was wrong with Harley.
So he must know a way to make her better?
"Strange knows as well," he said, punching his fist through the window and causing bits of snow to blow into the room. "He knew all along".
"Is that bad?" Harley whispered, her throat to sore to speak.
"OF COURSE ITS BAD YOU IDIOT!" He exploded, rounding on her and shaking her shoulders so her head lolled back and forth. "HOW THE HELL CAN IT BE GOOD."
"I don't understand", she whimpered, her eyes filling with tears.
"It means Strange has some kind of hold over us", explained Rocko. "He could blackmail us, force us to do things. He could tell others".
"And in these...times...it's important to keep up appearances", growled Joker. "The last thing we need is to look weak".
"But Strange said something about doctors...when I first came in. He tied me to one of those transporter beds from the Asylum and told me how doctors were kept in the church for emergencies". Her eyes widened as she doubled over again to cough up more blood.
Except the patch was larger than before.
"I think it''s safe to say this is an emergency", joked Rocko.
Joker glared at him. "Fine. Go find me a doctor. Start with a pretty one, one we can intimidate. And send the word out that doctors are to be brought here for...sport. The boys could use some..entertainment".
His smile sent chills up Rocko's back.
Once Rocko had left, he turned back to Harley, who was wiping her bloody hand against her jumpsuit, leaving a thick line of blood across her stomach.
He pulled back the sleeve to see the rotting flesh underneath.
"You would do all this for me Puddin'", she asked timidly.
"Don't be stupid", he snapped. "It's so Strange doesn't have the drop on us. Penguin would have a field day if he knew you were dying - he'd think my turf would be for the taking."
She looked disappointed. "Oh".
"What?" He snapped.
"Nothing".
He forgot she was sick and slapped her across the cheek. "Don't lie to me".
But the force sent her flying from the table, causing her to land in a heap on the floor.
She started coughing again, but the sound was louder and stronger.
She could feel the blood brewing in her chest, feel it crawling up her throat - the force so strong it made her head spin, made her see stars that were so bright in her vision she could no longer see, no longer hold onto whatever was keeping her up.
And then, there was only darkness.
Don't die on me Harl.
