Disclaimer: I do not own TDK or any part of Christopher Nolan's universe. I wish I did. But, I don't. So, enjoy my version of TDK, or at least all the parts that didn't have the Joker in them.

R.I.P Heath Ledger - I miss you so very much!!

Q&A
What do you believe in? Are you and your character alike?

Masochism
Her thoughts and her beliefs are the same as mine. I believe that we are insignificant beings and that there is no purpose to my existence, as well as any purpose to life. We life. We die. It's life. I'm an atheist, so I don't believe in any form of religion. I respect every religion, but I do not practice any form of it. We live our lives as best as we can while were on this earth. We shouldn't live in fear because preacher's say that if we do this or that we won't go to heaven. If we agree with that, we don't live a happy life. We live a blind life. We won't know anything. I'm an atheist because I choose to beleive in the existence of the greater unknown physical aspects of this world and what we will eventually know in the future. I englihten my mind as much as I possibly can.

Who is God? Who does your preacher say God is? If he gives you an honest answer, do you believe him. Do you let your preacher make the decision for you. Make your own decisions. Don't let other's decide your life for you. Life is your's to control. Once you achieve complete awareness of your mind, you understand who you truly are and what you really believe in. That's what happened to me. I haven't looked back, and I regret nothing.

Well, enjoy the chapter.

In the heat of the moment our passion towards each other collided, both souls joined as one complete being

In the heat of the moment our passion towards each other collided, both souls joined as one complete being. I was Susan. He was Jack, the Joker of Gotham City. When I walked in to that holding cell, I knew my life would change. When we spoke our first words to one another, we we're destined to dance forever. My mind was just as corrupt as his, just as painfully truthful. We were the same. Though it had been an hour since our bodies joined together, I could still remember every touch and could feel every kiss.

We we're outside again, had been like this for at least an hour. For the Joker, tomorrow had come, and he needed to get all of his ducks in a row. While walking the dark streets once more, I noticed an unfamiliar expression on Jack's face. His lower lip was quivering, just as mine had when he'd brought the knife against me. This was an unusual face, even for a person like him. He never expressed any emotions.

"Jack," I said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "You don't look so good."

He said nothing, kept only his eyes faced towards the road before him. It seemed as though I'd done something to offend him, something horrible in his mind to offend his character. He wouldn't look at me. He wouldn't look at anything, only the road faced before him. I didn't even know where this road would lead us. After we'd came to terms with our "feelings" towards each other, he quickly got out of bed, changed his clothes, and made his way outside the building as if something important lingered in his head. Curious, I put on some clothes as well and quickly ran after him. I had no idea where we were.

"Jack," I said, roughly patting his shoulder. "Where are we going?"

"Why," he began, slapping my hand away. "We're going nowhere."

"Well," I said, staring at our surroundings, disgusted by the smell of the city. "Obviously, we're going somewhere."

Obviously, he was keeping something from me. The grin on his face hinted at least that much. I didn't want to play games with him then, only wanted to know where we were so I could feel a bit safer around him. Not knowing anything kept me fearing every corner, fearing what would happen next. He had to tell me.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, my heart pausing for a brief moment.

Licking his lips, he turned his face towards mine and began to laugh once more, stomping his feet to the ground.

"Kaboom," he began, sounding out an explosion with his mouth. "...A big explosioN."

That didn't surprise me. Everything he did had to involve some kind of explosion. My previous home was an example of the destruction he'd caused with his explosive friends. However, why did he always need to blow everything and everyone sky-high? Explosions weren't even that spectacular.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, scoffing at the plan running through his head.

"I'm the Joker," he said, shaking his head and laughing at the same time. He waved a finger in front of my nose and patted a hand against my right cheek. "I don't kid."

I highly doubted that.

"Why," I began, stepping away from him. "Why are explosives so important to you?"

"I'm a man of simple tastes."

"What do you mean?"

"I," he began, combing back hands through his greasy, unkempt hair. "I like knives and explosions, a few sticks of dynamite now and then, and a lot of gasoline. It doesn't take a lot to instill fear, doesn't take a lot at all."

The more I stuck by him, the more I understood his way of thinking. Explosives weren't that hard to come by. Children built them everyday. An explosion was easier to come by than a heat-seeking laser, and the effect was even greater. He was such an amazing person. Though I'd only known him a short while, my mind at least made that calculation.

"You never cease to amaze me," I said, laughing to myself. He, laughing as well, placed an arm over my shoulder and drew his face towards mine.

"You never ceased to amaze last night." He smiled.

I blushed, embarrassed with by the way he'd commented me. Our moment last night was amazing, but he was, by far, the better "lover". He gave himself to me in a most uncaring way. Knowing we'd both feel the same, he took advantage of his position and fully gave into his desires. Which, in that sense, made me wonder: how long had he gone without such moments? How long had he been denied the caring touch of another person? Perhaps, just like me, he lost that feeling when he lost his past.

"Thanks."

That was the only answer I could give him. I couldn't respond to his comment as immodestly as he had done to me. Though my body disagreed with that modesty last night, my mind told me now that my confidence had yet again faded away. Unlike Jack, I knew my limitations, knew how easily I could break down in a tough spot. I wanted to say something daring, wanted to take his face in to my hand and kiss him as fiercely as I had last night, but the passion inside my heart was gone. Looking away from his piercing gaze, I pushed his arm away and began to walk down the street. Jack, thinking nothing of my action, laughingly shrugged his shoulders and walked quickly to catch up with me.

An hour later, or so it seemed, Jack and I found our feet walking towards an unfamiliar building in Gotham, a building as dilapidated as Granton Bridge yet still a standing structure. The bricks which had once covered the roof of the building were messily piled beside the alley next to it, so full of debris and trash that it was impossible to walk through the alley. The door, which had a gaping whole in its middle, looked as though it would soon come of its hinges, the molded siding near the hinge emphasizing the possibility of it soon collapsing with the rest of the building.

Looking around our surroundings, I noticed that we weren't surrounding any of Gotham's citizens. Apparently, we'd managed to somehow exit the city and journey to an unknown area closely near it. I knew, without a doubt, that if we were inside the city we'd see some person, or a criminal, walking around. Lack of a population in this area somewhat frightened me. Where was Jack taking me?

"Jack?" I said, my voice concerned with our situation. As I spoke, I noticed Jack walk up the small steps of the building towards the door. Placing his hand on the broken door knob, he turned his face towards mine and smiled once more, a sadistic smile that sent chills down my spine.

"What," he asked, his hand angrily shaking the knob of the door. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to know," I began, running a hand through my hair. "Where are we?"

He didn't answer, just laughed like he always did as he turned his face towards the door once more. Something inside my heart told me I would never receive an answer, as if I would never know where he was going. He just wanted me to follow him and never ask questions. With each unknown step, I found myself falling farther and farther into oblivion. I knew absolutely nothing.

"Lead me," I said, my voice as raspy as it had ever been.

"Don't mind if I do." He replied.

With that, he pushed the door open with his hand and walked inside. Shortly after he walked inside, I listened for his footsteps before entering to make sure the base of the building was properly constructed, or at least feasible to walk on.

The building itself was too dark to see inside its center, but as we walked around the middle of it I noticed a small light from a room upstairs. The light seemed to trail towards the stairs leading up to it, allowing both Jack and I to easily see our way as we walked towards the room producing the light.

Jack and I spent wasted no time in the building, any more time than we had to. Walking up the stairs, which squeaked with every step, was a difficult task to achieve. With each unknown step, I felt as though I'd fall into the floor and hurt myself, but for a strange reason Jack held on to my hand. It was sweet, but I thought nothing of it.

"Jack," I said, remembering a promise he'd earlier made to me. "Is this where the explosion started?"

Laughing, he turned his face towards mine and nodded his head. Then, turning his face away, he continued up the stairs until he was within walking distance of the room.

"Yes," he began, fiercely smacking his lips. "This is where the magic began."

As he walked into the room, I felt a sudden emotion from within my body. I didn't understand it exactly, but it was a familiar emotion, one that I had felt when my mother was still alive. I felt happy, as if she'd somehow risen from the grave and entered Jack's body. Smiling, I walked inside the room as well.

When we walked inside the room, I noticed a dimly lit kerosene lamp sitting upon a stool near the left corner of the room. In front of the lamp were five suspicious men sitting around a wooden oval table of which, adorned with five alcoholic beverages and one ash tray, was eerily visible because of the lack of light in the room. There was just enough light to barely see the outlines of the men around the table, so I didn't know what they looked like. But, it seemed as though Jack knew who they were.

"So," Jack began, clapping his hands when he'd completely entered the room. "What's on today's explosive agenda?"

Startled, the men quickly reached for the guns in their pockets. Knowing then who the intruder was, they lowered the weapons they had begun to aim at us, and began to laugh. Leaving his seat, one of the Joker's men motioned for Jack to take his spot. Jack, nodding his head, directed his attention towards me. Smiling, the man walked towards an "empty" seat and motioned for me to sit there, the man who'd been occupying the "empty" chair falling to the floor shortly after his actions.

"Fuck you," he said, helping himself off the ground. As he brushed the dirt away from his pants, he looked towards my direction, his eyes full of anger. "She's just his whore anyway," he said, walking away from the chair.

By the look of things, I already knew I hated these men. Were my clothes that revealing? Did I look like a prostitute hustling men for their money? I'd never done, and will never do, anything resembling that kind of action. He didn't know me, only knew the external side of my body, the part of me that was just as broken as a whore. He didn't know me, not at all.

While plotting his death in my head, I noticed the Joker quickly walk towards him and firmly place his hands on his throat. Struggling, the man kicked Jack in the leg, but it wasn't enough to free him from Jack's deathly hold. I cringed inside my head when I saw Jack remove the knife from his pocket and place the tip of it inside the man's mouth.

"Joker," he screamed, his body shaking in fear. "I didn't mean anything by it. She isn't a whore. I didn't mean it!"

Jack didn't seem to listen to his cries, didn't seem to have any mercy towards him at all. Did he actually care about my reputation? Or, was he merely defending his? I knew we both felt the same towards each other, but did those words "she's just his whore anyway" affect him?

His drew his anger closer towards his face, his eyes burning intensely. "You want to know how I got these scars?" he asked, placing a small cut on the man's lip. Smiling, he began. "My brother was an off-of work film director, always leaving his equipment and his props around the house. One day, he comes home angrier than usual. The industry he'd worked with went out of business, and he didn't like it. Not. One. Bit. The same day he, as crazy as Christmas, strangles my mother and attempts to kill me in my sleep with a pair of sheering knives from one of his horror films. He doesn't kill me, but he does put a beautiful smile on this face of mine before shooting himself in the head."

"Joker," the man said, tears streaming down his face. "Don't kill –"

Before he could finish, Jack had sliced the knife down towards his jaw, the man falling back on the ground shortly after. As Jack stared over the man's dead body, he began to laugh harder than he usual did. He'd just killed a man. Perhaps, the joy was more powerful when he murdered.

"So," Jack said, looking over towards me. He pointed at the empty chair next to him. "Can we begin this meeting now?"

I nodded my head, walked towards the chair, and sat down.

"What to do," Jack said, clasping his hands together as he sat in his chair. "What to do, what to do, what to do."

One of the men surrounding the table raised his hand. Jack seemed amused.

"Enlighten us with your brilliant idea."

"Well," the man began, nodding his head towards Jack. "We simply need the money, right?"

"I guess so," Jack replied.

"Well," he continued, "why don't we hold some rich kid for ransom? Some shit like that."

Jack looked towards me, his eyes somewhat questioning me as if he wanted to know what I thought of the idea. Shaking my head, I looked towards the floor to catch a glimpse of the dead man beside me. God…he was really dead.

"Well," Jack began, shaking his head. "I'm afraid we can't do that. It simply isn't…fun."

"Why don't we rob a bank," another man suggested. "We're really good at doing that!"

Sighing, Jack pulled out a gun from his pocket and shot the man who'd suggested that idea. He'd had enough of banks. That's all the ever did. The men, shocked at losing another friend, closed their mouths and waited for Jack to talk.

"Now," Jack began, putting his gun away. "Anybody else have any suggestions?"

They all shook their heads. Then, Jack looked at me and smiled.

"What about you doll face?"

What could I tell him? I'd never robbed a bank or killed a man before. I wasn't like him, wasn't even remotely possible for me to hurt another person. How could I come up with an idea for him to use? He'd probably shoot me to.

"Um," I began, thinking of something in my head.

"What's on your mind," Jack asked.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, my mind in a complete daze, amazed with the idea I'd just thought of.

"I've got it," I started, smiling at Jack. "Why don't you blow up Gotham General?" It was just an idea, not an idea that I wanted to have a part in, but an idea I knew the Joker would enjoy. And, by the way he looked at me, it seemed as though he did.

"Susan," he said, patting me on the back. "You're a genius."

Then, something else hit my mind, another idea that might this plan only smell of the Joker and nothing more.

"I have another idea," I said, looking at one of the men in the room. Laughing, Jack patted my back again and comfortably sat back in his seat.

"Go on," he said.

"Well," I began, taking in a deep breath. "Pick a random person for Batman to kill. If he doesn't kill that person within an hour, you blow the hospital up. He has two choices, break his one rule and be a hero, or save himself the agony of killing. Either way, he's going to lose."

By the way Jack was looking at me; I could tell he liked my idea. I was surprised I'd actually come up with something that original, that unique. I was a genius, a psychopathic genius.

"Perfect," Jack began, looking at the living men in the room. "Now, go get me some explosives. I'll need twenty vats of gasoline and thirty sticks of dynamite. You'll know where to find me when you have the supplies."

Sitting up, the men exited the room. Alone, Jack turned to face me and placed both hands on my shoulders, his lips closing in to meet mine.

"You're warm," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You're very warm."

His eyes closed, he deepened the kiss as he moved his arms towards my waist.

"Well," he began, hoping to retaliate. "You're a genius." He started to kiss my neck, nipping the skin a bit. A trickle of blood began to slowly roll down my throat, but he blocked it when he wrapped his left hand around my neck.

"You know," he said, whispering into my ear. "What happened last night will happen again, but I want you to know I'll never love you."

Our feelings were the same. Yet, for some reason his words saddened me. I don't know why, but they did. Still, it was a relief to know my beliefs were true. Smiling, I stood up from the chair.

"I want you to know," I said, grabbing his hand, "I'll never love you either."

We would never love each other. We were two people emotionally shut off from the world. We could never feel anything towards each other, only the lust we felt in our hearts before each kiss and touch. It would never lead to love.