A/N: I wanted to give you guys an interesting fact or two whenever I open these up with my notes so here's the first one: I actually wrote up a basic plot outline for this story about two to three chapters into it and I intended to follow it...instead I just write the chapter my spontaneity wants me to write and I end up editing the plot outline instead. XD Also, I wanted to thank Molahsurey for her review mostly because of one particular phrase she used to describe it: "cleverly action packed". I've always considered myself a big fluff writer so hearing this made my day. :D
Encounter 1 - Harley Quinn
There'd been rumors of a masked, clown-like woman circulating for some time now. Naturally, I investigated them but last month when I saw the clip of the harlequin suited criminal, I knew they were true. I had just begun my interrogations of lower members in the criminal infrastructure when the woman hijacked an entire news station. She looked like she'd come straight out of a comic book. She was perky, practically delighted, to announce that she'd taken over Arkham asylum and would soon broadcast a "very special experiment done by yours truly, Harley Quinn". She's got Arkham so heavily guarded and baited with traps that the police can't seem to get in. I've been keeping tabs on her live stream on my phone but she's yet to make a move. It looks like I'm going to have to show up myself.
Batman did not care to dispatch a copycat Joker. He was not thrilled at the idea of stopping the perky psychotic blonde, Harley Quinn. As Batman snuck into the building through one of the vent systems, he only felt the sudden droll and boredom that came with doing one's duty. He was only half present in his actions, playing them out. Batman had bigger concerns than Harley Quinn. He was more concerned about Joker's reaction to her.
Would Joker become defensive and jealous over his criminal style being hijacked in his absence? Would he try to outdo Harley Quinn in a madman's showdown? Or would he praise the attempt of super criminal psychosis and welcome her to his world? It was anyone's guess.
Batman's mind raced with possible outcomes as his body dragged along the vent. It was difficult trying to be quiet when you were a hulking hero in a bat suit. Sometimes Batman himself questioned how it was he was able to sneak up on people so successfully.
Batman's ears finally picked up on some sound. It was the high, somewhat grating voice of a woman chanting in a sing song fashion. Batman assumed it to be Harley Quinn and headed towards it much to his ear's discomfort.
Batman's phone buzzed from his belt. He retrieved it quickly.
I'm not going to be late... Batman lamented as he watched the live stream of the video feed beginning to fuzz onto the screen.
Harley appeared. She danced into the camera's line of view, pigtails swirling and a gun being twirled between her fingers. She sang a short, made up tune that sounded like it could have been the theme to one of those old variety shows.
She's...enjoying herself?
It shouldn't have surprised Batman. Even the gangsters he used to beat up generally gained some sick sort of pleasure out of terrorizing people but Harley Quinn was different. If it weren't for the gun in her hand and the situation she'd created, you'd think she was just a carefree girl dancing around on Halloween. She smiled at the camera sweetly as she spun around once more, her hands held high above her head.
She's just a kid...
"Ladies and gents," Harley announced as she twirled over to the camera's center and waved, "Welcome to the show! I'm so glad you all could tune in for it! Just couldn't keep your eyes off me could ya?"
Harley spun the camera around. The henchman turned cameraman ducked too quickly for Batman to identify him. Harley walked out a bit with a spring in her step to fit her whole body into the shot.
"Take it away, Mr. J!" Harley announced.
Mr. J? Who's Mr.–
The shot was eclipsed by figure. As it distanced itself from its extreme close up, Batman could begin to make out details. First was a general color; purple. Then a jacket. A head of grungy greenish black hair. A bare hand shot towards Harley and seized her by the throat. He lifted her off the ground just enough to make her legs useless as they kicked. He dragged her ever closer to the camera and as he did so, there was no denying his wide mouthed, scarred grin.
He's here... Batman finally concluded as his breath escaped his lips.
"This," Joker said to the camera as he forced Harley's face to the lens, "Is Harley Quinn. Do you want to know why she's dressed like this, hijacking your evening news, and being choked as we speak?"
Harley began gasping. Her face, even with the makeup, was beginning to shift colors as it desperately searched for oxygen.
Is he going to kill her! Batman thought as he found a new sense of urgency and propelled himself forward.
"Well, I got to her," Joker grinned as he continued to shove Harley Quinn's face into the lens, "And now she's lost her pretty little mind."
Joker released Harley's throat. Harley dropped to her knees as she coughed and wheezed back in air.
Joker disappeared from the shot as Batman came closer to the source of the live stream. He felt relieved that Joker had released Harley. Killing a woman on live television would not bowl over well for Joker. Not that Batman thought Joker cared.
The camera panned down to Harley and she breathed heavily. The beautiful, disturbing, dancing girl was now replaced with this costumed victim. On her hands and knees, she sucked in as much air as humanly possible despite the whistling sound it made as it shambled down her throat and to her lungs.
"Look at me," Joker instructed sweetly and then harshly, "Look at me!
Harley tilted her face upwards towards the camera but her eyes lingered on the concrete. Joker's hand reappeared and took hold of one of Harley's golden pigtails. Harley winced from the sharp tug and a breathy yelp escaped her lips.
"She's never been more beautiful," he said, admiring his work.
Batman had watched the screen sporadically but his eyes lingered on Harley as he watched her face go from utter betrayal and fear to a gentle, tear stained smile. She was happy, not in that she was alive but that the Joker was pleased with her. Batman could almost feel the desire for approval radiating from the poor blonde's black framed blues.
"Today's special experiment involves one of the most established doctors in Arkham," Joker began.
Joker spun the camera to face Dr. Larynx. He was gagged and strapped down to a gurney. On one side of him was a tray of surgical equipment and to the other side, an electroshock therapy machine.
Joker turned the news camera back towards him, casually leaning an arm on top of it. The camera sunk down; getting a quick shot of his crotch at the same moment Batman glanced at the screen.
Of course... Batman grunted.
Joker clumsily righted the camera and gave it a look.
"Now," he said, "I'm not going to think of a single thing to do with him. I won't lay a hand on him out of my own will. No, I'm going to take... requests."
Batman paused in mid crawl.
"I'm going to let you tell me what to do with him. Maybe not you exactly. Maybe your neighbor across the street or on the second floor. Your boss or your spouse. Maybe even your own children."
"Connected to the snuff site Mr. J!" Harley chimed off screen.
Joker smiled.
"First request?" he asked.
Batman kicked out the vent grate and as it was clattering against the floor, he landed expertly on top of it to silence it. Joker looked over his shoulder somewhat startled by the entrance but then delightfully surprised.
Batman had dropped in from the very shadows and stood in there in all the beauty and intimidation the bat was known for.
"How about letting him go?" Batman grunted, his voice all gargled marbles and gravel.
"Ah, Batman," Joker grinned, "Did you miss me? I missed you."
Batman ran straight up to Joker and punched him right in the gut. A sudden rush overcame Batman. The adrenaline began to race through his system as his fist made contact with Joker's body. It only heightened as Joker's hand grabbed at Batman's fist. It felt good. It felt right as Joker's laugh ringed in Batman's ears and the sensation of the landed hit traveled up Batman's arm. It'd been too long.
Harley leaped at the bat attacking her beloved Mr. J. She ran up and tackled Batman's back and wrapped her arms around his neck and began choking.
Joker stood in front of Batman, triumphant without having to lift a finger. Joker smiled at Batman.
"Good to see you again, Bats," Joker said, his tongue slowly caressing his lip.
"Cant…say- the- same- to you!" Batman struggled as he managed to throw Harley off of him.
Harley's back smacked against the wall and she landed, unconscious on the floor. Batman looked over his shoulder. He hadn't meant to be that rough with her but then again he typically didn't fight women. Joker ignored his wounded partner completely and instead looked at Batman. He gestured his hand towards Dr. Larynx.
"Well?" Joker asked, "What are you waiting for? Take him."
Batman raised an eyebrow at Joker but went to free Dr. Larynx. The struggling, muffled Dr. Larynx squirmed as Batman untied him, starting with the gag.
"Look out!" Dr. Larynx cried.
Batman turned around too late and saw nothing but a blur of dark metal and heard the deafening sound of it hitting his skull. Batman went straight down, dazed from the hit.
"Aw, Bats" Joker said apologetically, "Did you really think I'd let you go so soon? We've got unfinished business."
Joker dragged Batman and propped the upper half of Batman's body against the wall. Batman watched as Joker blurred in and out of focus. Joker took a seat on Batman's lap, chest to chest and face to face. He stared him down with unwavering seriousness. The position wasn't uncommon for them but it suddenly felt unnaturally still.
"You and I have been doing this for quite some time," Joker said as a matter of fact, "But the other day we seem to have crossed a line. Are you listening to me?"
Batman was dazed but listening. To make sure, Joker punched Batman in the face just to get his attention. The hit furthered Batman's disorientation and the dark knight had to concentrate just to keep his face turned towards Joker.
"Oh I like that," Joker smiled as he examined his own fist, "Is that how it feels for you when you hit me? It's nice."
Droplets of dark red emerged from Batman's stony face. They trickled from the corner of his lip and down his chin. Joker reached for the foreign substance and let the liquid turn lighter as it spread over his fingertips.
Joker turned his face over to the camera but it was pointed elsewhere. He shrugged and slid his bloodied fingers into his mouth. To Batman, it seemed to happen in slow motion. Joker's two fingers sensually entered to red rimmed lips. Batman could just see Joker's tongue linger as the digits made their exit.
"So the Bat does bleed," Joker said, his tongue making clicking noise as he sampled the blood.
Joker reached for the last bits of blood on Batman's otherwise perfect face. Joker smeared the blood into Batman's skin, enjoying the red taking over the Bat's features. It wasn't enough to lightly cover much more than his cheek but Joker was determined to make due anyway.
Joker didn't have any meaning behind it. He knew that Batman bled. After all, Joker himself bled so why wouldn't Batman? Joker hadn't even really wanted to hit Batman over the head or punch him in the face. He was just looking for excuses, especially the craziest ones, to touch Batman. It too had been too long for Joker.
Batman grunted as Joker dug his fingers into Batman's face. He was rubbing him too hard. His face was already sore from the hit he'd just delivered. Again, Batman was surprised at the amount of Joker's physical capability. He really had been toying with him all these years.
Batman reached up and grabbed Joker's wrist. His head was still reeling as he held the wrist tightly. He tried to give Joker an intimidating look and remove the hand but he couldn't. Batman managed to move Joker's hand slightly but his daze forced him to collapse his face back into Joker's palm. His hand slid down Joker's arm as defeat sank in.
Joker took his hand back awkwardly. It wasn't like Batman to give up so easily. It defied tradition. Joker's moment of logistics came and went though. If Batman was giving up a little it was an opportunity and Joker would make use of it.
Batman slouched over and his face crashed against Joker's chest. Batman took in the scent of him; grease, explosives, and cigarettes. It was disgusting and oddly enough, it smelled like home.
"Finally give into my boyish good looks, Batman?" Joker teased, "It's the hair isn't it?"
Joker almost felt like putting an arm around Batman. Almost. Instead he giggled lightly as the hero rested on his chest. His mind drifted through the possibilities of the situation at hand. With Batman half in and half out, Joker could easily turn the camera back towards them and get some real rumors started.
Joker looked down at Batman, the points of his cowl tickling his face. Maybe Joker didn't want to start rumors. Maybe he didn't want the people of Gotham staring them down. Maybe he wanted a moment, this moment, and nothing more.
Batman was beginning to come to and he did not like the situation unfolding before him. He'd had enough of Joker making these psychotic sexual advances. Batman didn't know what to do with them. Batman used all of his focus to grab Joker and shove him off.
Joker looked up at Batman and held up his hands, as if to calm the dark knight.
"You're right. You're right," he said with his hands still up, "It was my smile that won you over, wasn't it?"
Batman grabbed Joker by the collar and slammed him up against the wall.
"Enough, Joker!" Batman growled, "Why do you keep doing this to me?"
Joker cocked his head to the side as he chuckled, half nervous and half giddy.
"Doing what?" he asked.
Batman slammed Joker against the wall again. A look of pain flashed across Joker's face and he shut his eyes as his nerves adjusted.
"What do you want from me?" Batman continued to bellow, "This!"
Batman kissed Joker hard against the mouth. As Batman pulled away, his teeth were bared, like an animal ready to attack. Batman went back for another crude kiss. It wasn't enough. His angry lips crashed against Joker's cheek, his jawline, and lastly his neck.
"B-Bats," Joker tried to break the moment, "Now hold on a minute–"
Batman bit Joker's neck which prompted Joker to gasp. Batman's tongue slid over the flesh pinched between his teeth.
This is– Joker's mind scrambled for a conclusion, I-I want–
Batman hated himself. He was tired and desperate. He wanted answers to the Joker by any means necessary. He wanted to stop feeling strange and thinking uncomfortable thoughts. He just wanted some peace; a damn resolution to why Joker and Batman were like this and what this really was.
Joker could feel the skin start to bruise. Joker's arms ached to reach for Batman's body but they stayed still. Joker knew that this was no dream. It was real and it was too real. Reality felt good but God did it hurt. It hurt in a way that Joker didn't quite understand.
Joker wanted more. He wanted everything. The sensation from his dreams had come to life and once more he felt the spontaneity of his heart shout for more. He'd do anything, at least damn near anything, to strip himself and his hero down to the skin.
Batman pushed his body against Joker's. It was wrong to be like this. It was wrong to beat the shit out of each other one minute and then partake in passionate foreplay the next. It didn't make sense to Batman. Batman should be able to make sense out of anything, but Batman didn't give a damn about sense in that moment. All he could think of was how much he hated himself for this and how he'd never felt so liberated in his entire life.
Harley moaned in the corner as she began to regain consciousness. Batman broke from giving Joker a love bite and glanced over his shoulder at Harley.
Joker's breath was heavier than it'd ever been as Batman analyzed the waking Harley. Why had he stopped? Joker didn't want him to stop. He wanted the opposite of stop. He wanted to go and go and keep going.
Batman turned back to Joker. They gazed at each other for a moment. Pain and pleasure was evident between them along with a heavy sense of exhaustion. Batman slowly put Joker on his feet and backed away. Batman's eye caught the blotch of red on Joker's neck. Batman had done that. Batman had done that and it was just sinking in.
Batman turned away quickly, his cape fluttering over his shoulder. Joker watched him, not moving a muscle. Batman had surprised him. He'd also disappointed him.
Batman ran over to Dr. Larynx, who'd been watching silently the entire time. Dr. Larynx stared at Batman with confusion and disgust. Batman ignored it, untied him and led him to the vent.
Harley had reached a crawl. She glanced over to check on Joker but he stared as Batman grabbed Dr. Larynx by the waist and used the bat grapple to pull them up and into the large vent opening.
Harley crawled over to Joker and tugged on his pant leg as she tried to lift herself up. Joker didn't bother to assist and soon enough Harley struggled up to a stand. Joker stared into the vent. He wanted to go after Batman. In all the time that they've been in their ongoing battle Joker had not once chased Batman. Sure, he lured Batman and he baited him but he never chased him. Joker was the chasee in this relationship but Joker had the desperate impulse to find a way into that vent, find the means to track the Bat, confront him, and–
"Mr. J," Harley now pulled at Joker's sleeve as a police with a mega phone demanded their surrender, "We got to get out of here."
Joker gave a slight nod and Harley went over to the large sewer grate and lifted it with all her might.
"Ha!" she said with satisfaction as the grate landed with a thud.
Harley Quinn jumped gracefully down into the sewer. Joker followed, giving half frantic looks over his shoulder now and then. He continued down the steps of the sewer ladder but looked up once more to the darkened ceiling that his Batman had disappeared into.
"Up you go," Joker said quietly to himself before looking down at the stink and darkness that awaited him, "And I below."
"Could you explain to me just what that was?" Dr. Larynx finally shouted now that Joker and Harley had disappeared down into the sewers.
Batman put his hand over Dr. Larynx's mouth, shoving him against the side of the vent. No, Batman could not answer what that was. He had no idea where to being with what that was. Even if did, he didn't want to answer what it was.
"It's nothing," Batman growled.
Dr. Larynx's eyes grew wide. Batman's voice was too low to be natural but the gravel like sounds that made up his speech frightened him nonetheless.
"You speak to no one about this!" Batman commanded, "Ever!"
Dr. Larynx nodded. He didn't need to be told twice. If the scary man in the bat suit said to keep his mouth shut then he'd do just that. Besides, if Batman made a threat over it, Dr. Larynx could only imagine what Joker's response would be. Dr. Larynx just wanted to forget all of it. He'd had enough of crazy people. Batman let go of Dr. Larynx.
"I think I'm going to retire," Dr. Larynx thought aloud.
"Good idea," Batman stated as he grabbed Dr. Larynx by the shoulders.
Batman jumped back down into the room and released Dr. Larynx.
"Police will be here shortly," Batman said before grappling back up into the darkness.
Sure enough, as Batman disappeared, officers arrived. Dr. Larynx held up his hands, confused, scrambled, and resolute in his decision to retire.
On the other end of Gotham, Pamela was more than ready to retire. She was about ready to die. At least, she felt like she was dying.
"Just one more injection, Pamela," Dr. Woodrue coaxed as he held the syringe up.
Pamela brought her arms up to her torso. They looked like they'd been attacked by a small swarm of mosquitoes. Pamela felt like vomiting every two minutes and passing out every other minute.
"No, I can't take another," Pamela said as she pushed herself to get up, "And for the last fucking time, it's Dr. Isley."
"Dr. Isley," Jason tried to persuade her, "These injections will make it easier for us to communicate with the test subjects. If we continue to introduce their genetics into our system–"
"–then we may be able to incorporate the genetics behind their language into us," Pamela finished for him, "You know the more I hear it the more it sounds like a crackpot theory. I don't know why I ever bothered with that theory in the first place. You're just grasping for straws."
Pamela took a few steps towards the door. It felt like each foot had a cement shoe on it. It hurt to move. It hurt to even breathe at this point. Pamela no longer cared about Dr. Woodrue's grand plan to save the world. If she didn't get herself to a doctor soon, then she wouldn't be able to save anything.
"Please, Dr. Isley," Jason tried again, "reconsider. I too have been receiving these injections. We've both been suffering for this great cause."
Pamela turned around, her head spinning as she did. She glared Dr. Woodrue.
"If you're receiving the same injections as me then why are you perfectly fine and I'm sick as hell?" Dr. Isley confronted.
Dr. Woodrue stood up from his seat at their lab slab and walked over to Pamela.
"You need to rest a little," he said as he reached for her arm, "A few days of sleep and I'm sure you'll be just as excited about this as you were the first day."
"Answer the question!" Pamela shouted as she pulled away from him, "Why am I so sick and you're okay?"
Dr. Woodrue looked defeated. He sighed and sat back down in his seat. He buried his face into his hands. He suddenly looked older to Pamela.
"The truth is," he said as he hid in his palms, "I've been giving myself lower doses."
"What?" Pamela hissed.
"I'm old, Pamela!" Dr. Woodrue shouted, ringing his hand in the air, "If I took the same amount as you, I'd be dead before a second injection!"
"But it's okay for me?"
"No!" Jason shouted and got up from his chair again, "Of course not! I just… I misjudged how powerful these extracts were. I thought that such a strong, young woman like you would be able to handle them but I've miscalculated."
Dr. Woodrue put a hand on Pamela's shoulder. He looked down at the punctures in Pamela's skin. He took Pamela's wrist in his other hand and got a better look at them. He dropped her arm gently and took a step away from her.
"What have I done to you?" he whispered before his eyes met with Pamela's, "I am so sorry, Pamela..."
Pamela stared at Dr. Woodrue. He was a shamed man but that didn't mean he wasn't apologizing for a reason. He just wanted Pamela to accept the apology and join him again. He was just saying sorry to get to what he wanted.
"Walk away from this," Dr. Woodrue said suddenly, "Please, it's much too dangerous to go on. You'd be safer if you just left me to my madness, Dr. Isley. Walk away."
It wasn't a demeaning or sarcastic statement. Jason genuinely meant it.
A man who's telling me...to save myself...
Pamela turned away from Dr. Woodrue. So what if he'd made a real apology absent of ulterior motives? He'd still made her sick with injections. He was still conducting experiments that made little sense. He was a madman.
As Pamela headed for the door, one of the rapid growth plants reached out for her ankle. It stretched for her, tickling the back of her leg. Pamela tried to ignore it but she couldn't. She stopped and the vine wrapped around her ankle, embracing her. It was begging her not to go. Pamela could feel it pleading with her.
I can't just leave them. I can't.
The plant seemed to understand this and released Pamela's ankle. Pamela turned to face Dr. Woodrue who'd sat back down and had his back to her. Pamela smiled a little. Dr. Woodrue was a little like the plants. He was more or less defenseless but brazen, crawling all over the walls and not making very much sense.
"You were over enthusiastic," Pamela said, her voice waking Jason from his presumed isolation, "But I want more details on these injections and I want them at lower doses, is that understood?"
Dr. Woodrue turned around and smiled at Pamela. For an older guy, he had a handsome smile. It was pleasant. Pamela could almost admit that she even liked it.
"Of course!" Dr. Woodrue said in celebration, "Of course!"
Pamela reached down and gave the vine a little pat. It lovingly twirled around her fingers. Pamela had to stay, not for Jason, but for them. Pamela knew that she charmed people and Jason had once said that she seemed to do the same with the plants but Pamela didn't believe it. The plants and Pamela were one. They needed her and she, in her own way, needed them.
Joker on the other hand, was not charmed by Harley nor did he need her.
Harley pawed outside Joker's door, like a pet desperate to get in. She was always doing that. Joker hated it. He just wanted to be left to himself.
"Mr. J?" Harley called, "Mr. J, are you in there? Can you hear me?"
Joker had enough. He opened the door slowly. He tried to take a casual stance in the doorway but Harley barreled right past him. She did a cartwheel before sitting down on Joker's bed. Joker sighed and sat beside her. He clapped his hands together as he tried to find a way to tell her how he felt.
"Harley," Joker addressed her, "I know I've been this big inspiration and all. I'm flattered. Really–"
"Mr. J," Harley said as she brought her legs up to her chest, "I've been thinking."
Shocker, Joker amused himself.
Harley had scrubbed the makeup off her face for the night. She had on a silky, short, red night gown. Her hair was wet from a shower. She was more or less bare in front of Joker. She was just Harleen Quinzel now. No Harley Quinn. No mask. No deviance. Just a young woman with a warped mind.
"What's going to happen after this whole criminal life thing?" Harley asked as she leaned against Joker.
Joker looked at her, confused.
"Thing?"
Harley nodded once, nuzzling a bit into Joker's arm.
"I mean," she continued, "Eventually we're going to get too old for all this. We can't be robbing and terrorizing all the way into our seventies and eighties."
Aging had never occurred to Joker. He wasn't even aware of aging. He didn't have the common ideology that age was just a number. Age wasn't even a number. Age was none existent. Joker's world was made up of two things; Batman and chaos. Time applied to neither.
"So I figured what if we took off a little early?" Harley proposed, "We could teach others how to expose humanity. You know, like leaving a legacy? We have a couple of kids one day..."
Harley drifted away as she daydreamed. She could see it now, she and Joker would have a few kids, maybe even steal a couple. They'd raise them right and teach them how the world really is. The duo would become a family team. Harley could even make little costumes for them.
Joker stuck a finger in his ear, twisted it and wiped the content on his pant leg.
"Run that by me again?" Joker requested.
"What? Oh. Kids?" Harley said dreamily, "It's just a thought. We could adopt if you want."
"Harley," Joker approached the subject as carefully as he could, "We're not together. I don't even like you all that much."
Harley was already half asleep on Joker's arm.
"A family, Mr. J," Harley said sleepily, "I know it's not your thing but it could be. Besides, I think even you want something normal."
Something...normal? Joker pondered.
A sudden pain pierced Joker in the gut. He fell to his knees as the pain gripped him. Harley immediately woke up.
"Mr. J!" Harley cried.
Joker forced himself to stand to his feet. He refused to look weak and out of control in front of anyone, especially a nuisance like Harley. Harley wasn't even supposed to be there. Joker didn't need nor did he want a sidekick. He'd only kept her around with the hopes that she'd one day strike out on her own. Then the real fun could begin.
"Mr. J, sit down!" Harley tried to instruct, "I'll go get something to–"
Joker grabbed Harley by the hair. He pulled her to the door and then threw her out. She was so determined to take care of him and yet her constant doting only made him feel sicker. Joker locked the door behind him. He half dragged himself to the bathroom and ignored Harley banging on the door. Her pleas faded away as he shakily gripped the sink.
Something–
Joker's mind pulsated as a series of voices assaulted his mind. They were foreign and known but they sped by so quickly that he couldn't think about them. The voices hurt, exerting an unknown force as they uttered the unthinkable.
Joker's dream of Batman unmasking him flashed in his head and overlapping it was another scene. One that looked like it was familiar even though it wasn't. There was a handsome man's face but it couldn't be defined. Joker's mind wouldn't let it.
That-that hurt!
Love me. Damn it.
I'll stay.
Something...
Joker looked up to the ceiling as a terrible yell escaped his mouth. It was unbridled as it reached up to the roof. Joker couldn't hold it anymore. Whatever was happening was painful. It was more than painful. It was excruciating.
You stared into the night sky. You watched that same spot for hours until they tore you away. You love the Bat. You love. You are capable of love. Love is normal. You're normal.
Jack breathed heavily. His knuckles had turned white from gripping the sink so hard. He detached himself slowly from it. He looked up in the mirror to see the Joker's face peering back at him.
"I'm not normal," he said as he reached to turn on the sink.
Jack put his hand underneath the water. With his wet hand, he wiped half the makeup off his face. The colors were runny against his bare skin but at least he could see himself. He glanced down to the hickey and sighed.
"But I want to be."
A/N: All right, I know you guys love Joker (who doesn't?) and even though Jack's back, Joker will return pretty soon again. Thanks to Grace for her avid support in her last reviews. :) I'm going to break for the night, maybe do some college homework...nah.