Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC. The Joker, John Blake, and Batman belong to DC comics.
Chapter Eleven.
"If you're good at something, never do it for free."
July 5th.
Since that conversation with the Joker in her bedroom, Charlotte spent her days treating various goon wounds. After coming back from a job, the Joker's men would sometimes be hurt. It was her job, as the Joker had put it, to "put them back into working condition". So, Charlotte had no other choice but to obey the clown and play nurse to his toys. With the constant violence that surrounded these men and their work, Charlotte was almost always needed. The wounds were endless; shotgun to the leg, broken arm, busted lip...And whether Charlotte lived or not depended on if she could heal them. Most of the time, she managed pretty well if she could recall the lessons she'd learned during her Medical courses. Other days, when the blood was too much to deal with, Charlotte would return to her room and promptly vomit upon reaching the bathroom. Regardless, Charlotte got the job done without fainting...because the Joker asked her to.
On the quiet days, when the warehouse was lacking the screams of men in agonizing pain, Charlotte was free. Well, as free as she could be in her prison. She spent those moments taking pictures of random things, like beers on the table or even the shadow of a fly on the wall. She had her notebooks from school, but she didn't write in them. There was no way in hell she would try to document her ideas of escape. Not when the Joker could easily go through her things. And of course, she'd lost her privilege to art supplies since the Chuckles mishap.
July 7th.
"Doll!" The Joker's voice rang through the warehouse. Charlotte cringed at the name. Did he really have to call her that? Charlotte peered her head over the top of the staircase like she always did. The Joker and his goons were sprawled randomly about the first floor, all eyes glued to the large plasma screen hanging on the wall. The Joker occupied the middle couch for himself while the goons made do with the other two couches and the randomly spread out chairs in the space. The Joker's arms were lying against the top of the couch. "Come," he beckoned, waving his gloved hand and not even looking in her direction.
"I've got something for you."
"What is it, a Hydrogen bomb?" Charlotte grumbled lowly, not thinking he'd heard. Joker regarded her with dark, playful eyes as she came closer to him.
"If you wanted one of those, you could've just asked. Sit." The Joker said, tapping the arm of the couch. Charlotte sat down begrudgingly, careful to shift her legs so that they didn't brush against his shoulders.
"TA DA!" The Joker exclaimed, gesturing wildly towards the TV. Charlotte looked and almost vomited on the spot.
Staring down at her was...well...herself! Gotham Evening News had officially announced her capture. "Took them a while..." Charlotte thought bitterly. She'd been in Hell for more than one week, and people were just now being alerted? What if she could have been saved earlier? Charlotte watched silently as the attractive newscaster with too much cleavage announced that "Charlotte Marlone, 18 year old Gotham City High student went missing last week -"
"They're lying!" Charlotte said in a seething outburst, pointing at the TV. "I've been missing for -"
"Close to two weeks now, Doll?" The Joker interjected, smiling up at her. Charlotte glared at him.
"I don't want to watch this anymore," Charlotte muttered, moving to get up. The Joker's gloved hand flew out to grab her wrist before she could even take a step.
"Ah, ah, ah! Char. You're gonna wanna see this next part." The Joker smirked. He turned his attention back to the television without another word. He kept his hand cuffed tightly around her wrist.
"And now, a pleading word from Miss Marlone's parents..." The news woman spoke. The program cut to a clip of Charlotte's parents. For some reason, Charlotte went deaf. She could see their lips moving, could see the tears in their eyes...but she couldn't hear a damned thing besides the Joker's laughter. It bounced around in her head sickeningly, but when she turned to look at him on the couch...she found his lips completely still. Charlotte wanted to kill him, she really did. But how could she kill a man with so much power? Charlotte couldn't even move an inch without him noticing, she doubted she would be able to slit his throat. Not like she could even come that close to him, he'd snap her neck faster than she could blink.
The Joker turned to her slowly. The expression on his face was terrifyingly calm...content even. His tongue smacked loudly against his lips as he regarded her. "Do you want to go home? Back to all of...that?"
The Joker regarding her expectantly...it wasn't a rhetorical question. Rage choked Charlotte as she stared at his smug expression. She yanked her wrist out of his grasp harshly, and he let her, which surprised her. She'd been prepared for a fight.
"What type of question is that?" Charlotte hissed, eyes brimming with tears of frustration. She nearly flew off of the couch - she needed to get out of there so damn fast. The loud slam of a door was heard overhead.
The Joker smirked.
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July something
"Do you want to go home? Back to all of...that?"
Try as hard as she might, the Joker's words didn't leave Charlotte's head. She doubted the Joker even remembered telling her that. That had been a few days ago, after all. Still, the words had kept Charlotte awake at night since he'd uttered them to her. The Joker seemed to do that alot, she'd noticed. The man could say one simple sentence and have you reeling in worry days after. Charlotte supposed she'd been lucky. The Joker could have said something much worse and had her reeling for months...maybe even years.
Because he was capable of that, wasn't he? The Joker was capable of anything.
Charlotte clamped her pillow over her head and willed herself not to think thoughts like that. If she let the Joker into her head she'd be done for.
Of course, fighting it didn't feel as good when it felt like no one had even realized she'd gone missing. Aside from that brief stint on the television...Charlotte hadn't seen much of herself. Her parents and friends were most likely having nervous breakdowns over her disappearance - but she'd expected more from the citizens of Gotham. The betrayal she felt from everyone in the city burned like a thousand daggers to the heart.
Maybe...
Maybe all she had left was this Hell.
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Month
Charlotte's slender legs were propped up against the wall as her head hung off the opposite side of the bed. Her calves rested against the top of the headboard, blonde hair nearly shimmering with every movement of her neck and head. The Joker leaned against her slightly open doorway, unbenknownst to her. Joker nearly scowled, the expression causing pain to spurt along his jagged grin. The radio in the room was blaring - he'd told that dumbass Chuckles to drop it by her door a few days ago, and he hoped she was fucking grateful. The little twerp. She didn't seem to talk much anyways, but when she did he could barely repress the urge to rip out her eye sockets with his bare hands (and his too, for that matter. She was frustrating. Charlotte had a little fight in her...and he liked that. And, of course...Chuckles would never, ever, step foot in Char's room again.
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The radio was blaring again, he could hear it from down the hall. The Joker grimaced, tongue flashing against the ridges in his cheeks. Ripping his feet away from his desk, he marched out of his office and into the hallway. Hadn't this broad ever heard of peace and quiet? Well, she'd better start listening soon or he'd slit her throat. Joker glanced down at the goons on the first floor as he strode past. It was almost three in the morning, and after completing a slightly stressful job with all of those idiots downstairs, he just wanted to revel in some post-chaos comfort alone...In the dark and quiet.
Charlotte's doorway was slightly ajar again. The Joker was starting to think she was doing this on purpose. He smirked. Well, how much more rebellious could you get when you were confined to a nearly empty room? He paused, one hand supporting him against the doorframe. Joker watched her for a moment. As he always did, he studied her. She was in the same position that she mostly stayed in; long legs sprawled upwards against the headboard, head on the opposite side of the bed. The Joker paused, something was different in the sound of the room.
Was she singing?
The Joker wanted to laugh, honestly. Charlotte seemed to be singing without a care, as if she wasn't a hostage living with the most dangerous man in Gotham. The Joker licked his lips slowly in thought as he watched her. She wasn't half bad, actually. He really needed to figure out what he was going to do with her. He needed her to be part of the plan...he just didn't know what plan, or how she could ever contribute as much as he wanted her to. He hadn't figured out how to adjust things, now that she was really here and things were...different. The Joker would never admit that to anyone. Regardless, he would keep her...for now. Nothing was ever permanent, after all. Tempted to enter the room and sit - he was positive she wouldn't have a clue - he held himself back. Instead, he just stood and listened. Char had a lovely voice.
You bought a star in the sky tonight,
Because your life is dark and it needs some light
You named it after me, but I'm not yours to keep
Because you'll never see, that the stars are free
Oh we don't own our heavens now
We only own our hell
And if you don't know that by now
Then you don't know me that well
All my life I've been so lonely
All in the name of being holy
Still, you'd like to think you know me
You keep buyin' stars
And you could buy up all of the stars,
But it wouldn't change who you are
You're still living life in the dark
It's just who you are
It's just who you are
You bought a star in the sky tonight
And in your man-made dark
The light inside you died
Oh we don't own our heavens now
We only own our hell
And if you don't know that by now
Then you don't know me that well
All my life I've been so lonely
All in the name of being holy
Still, you'd like to think you own me
You keep buyin' stars
And you could buy up all of the stars,
But it wouldn't change who you are
You're still living life in the dark
It's just who you are
You know only how to own me...
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Month
A slow, booming clap rang through the air, startling Charlotte out of her wits.
"Braaavoooo," The Joker drawled, hands smacking in front of him. He'd come in this time. The startled look on Charlotte's face gave him the jolt of hilarity he needed, and he laughed freely as she let out a shocked yelp.
"Jesus Christ!" Charlotte exclaimed in fear, hand clasping at her heart. The Joker howled with laughter. "Have you been here the whole time? What are you..I-"
The Joker smiled, carefully wiping away a fake tear so not to smudge his makeup. "I've been here long enough. Y'know, If you make it out of this alive, you should try pursuing a singing career...And maybe after you can write a autobiography on how you were kidnapped by Gotham City's most. Dangerous. Criminal."
Charlotte's eyes narrowed. "I thought you didn't think of yourself as a criminal?"
"I am when I need to be," Joker replied simply. "Got any other songs you can sing, Madonna?"
Charlotte scoffed indignantly and righted herself on the frazzled sheets of the bed. "I'm not singing for you! I didn't see singing for criminals in the hostage description."
The Joker chuckled, eyes glinting threateningly. "Right. Well, there are ways around that."
The Joker licked away at the inside of his cheek in thought. He almost wanted to tell her that if she wouldn't sing for him, then she couldn't sing at all. But, knowing Char, she'd reply with some sort of smart-ass comment that would make him lose his cool, and then she'd end up dead. And the Joker didn't want that...Not yet, anyways.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Charlotte asked quietly, curling her knees up and resting her chin on them. The Joker stood up lazily, stopping at the door before answering her.
"I'm not telling you!" He mimicked Charlotte's voice, before striding out and slamming her door behind him. Charlotte stared at the closed door, mouth ajar. She almost wanted to laugh.
Was he crazy or something?
Charlotte scowled at herself and threw a pillow at the door. Of course he was crazy. The guy was a fucking psychopath.
Hello my lovelies! Long time no see! I hope you're all doing well, college is absolutely kicking my butt! This was a short chapter, but since this was sort of a filler, you know what that means? The next chapter is where shit starts to go down! I mean it. I already have it written, so as soon as I find the time to edit it, it'll be posted! A few important things in this chapter though, take notice how the dates aren't specific anymore, that's important to the story ladies and gents! And if you skipped past the lyrics I put in the chapter, I'd recommend going back to read them, because they're absolutely perfect for this. Sorry for any typos. Where do you think we'll go from here? The next chapter will be very dark so here's a warning! If you're still sticking with this story, leave me some love in the review box! Love to all! x
