I'm back! I apologise if this is a little bit rough around the edges. Oh by the way, I changed my tumblr url because I'm having intense Bucky Barnes (from Captain America) feels after seeing The Winter Soldier. So my new tumblr's called .com. Please, go follow me or check it out if you want! 3 See you soon.
Chapter 21: Don't You Dare Look At Him In The Eye
I stumbled through the warehouse door, my eyes wide and lips parted, the events of the night leaving me in shock; I knew I was a hot mess. I'd stripped of my shoes and resorted to gripping them by the straps with my fingers' steely clutches, allowing them to swing and bump into each other as I padded along. The Joker loped along behind me, eerily quiet given his usual nature. I didn't dare look at him, for fear that I had disappointed him. No matter what I felt at that moment, above all else, I didn't want him to be disappointed in me.
"Harley," The Joker began, his voice as animated as ever. I slowly span on my heels to face him, eyes trained to the floor.
"If you're gonna stick with me, you need to learn that death is a big, big, BIG part of my life. You're gonna deal with it all the time. Don't get attached to anyone." Whilst he explained with his usual shifting pitch, he stalked slowly closer to me. When I still didn't look him in the eye, he sharply pulled my chin up so my gaze met his.
"Got it?" He demanded, lip curling tauntingly. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. I wasn't properly okay, and I'd need an hour to think it through and process my emotions, but by god I could act like I was fine; I'd done it a lot in the past. My eyes fluttered open and I spread my lips thinly to form a mischievous grin. Wondrously, forcing a smile seemed to work and soon it was close to genuine- after all, I did have some reason to smile; the Joker was prepared to keep me around.
"Oh I've got it, Mr J, don't you worry." He grinned and pecked me on the cheek, before trotting away like a schoolboy over to the kitchen, flicking on the stereo and tuning it finely, elegant gloved fingers twirling the tuner, clear that he knew what station he was after. When he reached it, he clapped his hands and skipped a few paces away from the radio, back towards me. The station presenter's voice sounded crackly and broken for a while, before it tuned itself properly.
"Now, a little bit of more obscure music for you fans out there. This is Breaking Benjamin with a classic hit of theirs, Dance with the Devil. Show it some love!" As the song's guitar kicked in and began to strum, The Joker prowled slowly towards me. It was, without a doubt or even a blush to cross my cheek, one of the most sexiest things I'd ever seen him do. The fact that it no longer bothered me to call him or his actions sexy was an indication of how serious I was about the entire thing- I was beginning to squirm a little under his gaze, burning at my skin. If I wasn't anticipating his next move, I'd be desperate to have at him and the beautiful suit he wore.
"Well, since you and I are both dressed up, I say we make up for what we didn't get at the gala. Fancy some fun, my sweet?" He invited, holding a hand out to me. Briefly forgetting everything but the fact that the most perfect man on Earth was inviting me to dance, I smiled and blushed as I took his hand delicately. He swiftly and violently twirled me into him, holding me so close I could only rasp, lungs desperately clawing for air. A flush of panic flooded through my veins as I listened to how swift the pace of the song was- I couldn't dance to slow music, let alone faster rock songs.
"I can't dance." I admitted breathlessly, biting my lip and squeezing my eyes shut in embarrassment. The Joker chuckled, saying nothing. I felt a tiny sinking feeling when I reflected on his good spirits, as it showed that he was trying to appease me- meaning he was softening me up for another blow. Crazily though, I didn't mind so much- I'd bear with it all for a few moments of heaven. After all, it was whatever made him happy.
"Now that's where I come in handy, dear. I'm far too much of a narcissist to not have taken dancing in my time." His arm hooked firmly around my waist as he entwined his fingers with mine, before he gracefully dipped me backwards and pulled me up. We swayed, and then one foot at a time, began to twirl. We started slow so I could find my pace, and then gradually sped up until we could almost pass as "normal". Finally settled enough to relax, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, pressing my cleavage to his toned chest. He raised an eyebrow but mashed his lips tightly together to form a firm line that even then, still curled up to a slight smile at the edges. I giggled softly, doe eyes staring deep into his, my vision tinted rosy with pure adoration.
We span and danced for what felt like an eternity, entirely hyperaware of our skin on each other's. Finally, as the song reached its climax, he dipped me down again, placing a feathery kiss on her neck. I closed my eyes in bliss but then yelled out when the kiss became a bloodthirsty bite at my flesh, pain flushing through my veins and burning, searing through until I thought my veins would burst beneath their pale shields. He laughed into the soft skin of my neck as I pulled myself up straight, his unusually dark, hungry eyes fixed on me. The bite was a reminder that he would always be in control, and it put me in my place- I didn't mind the gesture. I had already accepted that I was his and his alone, a long time ago, when I realised how cracked and ruined my mind was. A broken toy.
"You're in a good mood," I commented as the song finished and the presenter began to speak up again. The Joker nodded, licking his lips as he pranced over to the stereo and threw it off the side, silencing the blaring music with an ear-splittingly loud shatter of plastic and metal on concrete ground.
"What can I say? Tonight went well." He shrugged. Had it? I didn't agree. After all, none of us achieved anything we had set out to accomplish, and in the process may have lost all of the henchmen. I cocked an eyebrow, hoping it'd convey to him that I disagreed, without trying to cause conflict. His head cocked back to take more of me in, eyebrows cocking as well, ready to snap at me. All attempts at romance were beginning to slip through my fingers like sand, and I could only silently scream into the void in which the grains of sand disappeared into, clawing desperately within the loosened confines of my mind for their return. I didn't want what we had to leave.
"Why Harley, it looks as if you don't agree." He pointed out, to which I nodded and tilted my head, hoping I wasn't about to anger him further, sensing the black clouds of anger rolling into the room. The fear of my realisation that I had yet to see him at his angriest kept my tone reserved, and hopeful to avoid a fight.
"Well, I don't! We didn't get the money, we may have lost all our henchmen-" I was ferociously cut off by a gloved hand cutting me across the face, sending a shocked, hitched gasp erupting from my lips. He began to laugh with vicious undertone, each peal reminding me of a Hyena, an animal I'd always loved. Despite the fact he'd just slapped me around the face, I figured I probably deserved it. I was rude, I reasoned.
"We may have lost all our henchmen? Since when did you dictate yourself above those dogs?" He spat, shadow looming over me as I walked backwards until I felt the lower cut of my back press against the cold stone of the wall. His teeth bared into a feral snarl, body visibly trembling with anger. Talk about a mood swing.
"It was a r-rash decision, sweetie, I didn't mean… I wasn't trying to-"
"Well, do you consider yourself above them or not?!" He questioned, and I hesitated as I began to think through what he was saying. He was well known for testing boundaries; he'd done it with me before, either for his own personal gain or to prove a point. What if he was testing me? Trying to gauge how much authority I was capable of showing? I would've dispelled the idea if it weren't for the fact that when I glanced up at his eyes, there was the tiniest glint, the flicker of something other than anger nestled amongst green. It was on a similar tangent, but was more akin to passion than anything else.
It's worth a shot, I guess; worst comes to worst, I'll end up with some injuries. I can handle it, I decided, pushing my abdomen away from the wall and closer to him, gesturing that I wasn't going to give in so easily. The moment I did, something popped in the atmosphere. Like a string being snipped in half, something detached itself in the air.
Mr J sensed it too; he paused, fists still clenched, but prepared to listen to me. I was more certain than ever that I was on the right track with proving myself worthy.
"Yes. I am saying that, actually. I will never match up to you and your excellence, Mr J, but I am a damn sight better than your dogs. I give you more than them… I offer you satisfaction, ideas… a distraction, something to take your anger out on but you know will have drivelling at your feet again in no time… Could the boys ever offer you that? No. I can, because I'm better. You know it." I said, aware that I was beginning to sound desperate and pleading, fighting it from my tone. The silence was brief and fizzled like the white noise of a television, popping loudly in my ears and making me wince, but I remained concentrated, hoping the heat of the moment would have some visible effect on how I presented myself; strong, fierce and determined. The Joker stretched a hand out again, but this time when it collided with my face, the impact was softer than before. It felt like he was taking in the feeling of my skin, rather than trying to leave his mark as he usually did.
"Oh, ideas, you say? Enlighten me, Harl, what do you have in mind?" I froze on the spot, taken aback by the swift change in events. He was actually going to ask for my input?
"Well, I saw that you were translating blueprints over risus sardonicus, but scratched the idea due to lack of supplies…" I began, fumbling with my nails as my head tilted to the ground, peeking up at his imposing form through my lashes.
"Go on…" He murmured, a low but surprisingly non-threatening growl within the base of his throat. Pride shot me in the chest as I realised that he was seriously considering my words.
"Well, there's hemlock water dropwort? It's incredibly poisonous and gives the victim a sardonic grin! I know someone who could getcha some, if you fancied it." I concluded, hands folding behind my back as I began to sway like a child waiting for a reward. Please be impressed, please be impressed… my mind lulled, a steady mantra like a heartbeat pulsating through the nerves of my brains. Attention and approval was all I wanted, and from him, it was like finding a diamond.
"Excellent idea, Harl!" I hit crown jewels.
"Ya think?" I asked, enthusiasm lacing my tone as electricity shot through me.
"Who can supply you with them?"
"She's stuck in Arkham, the poor soul… last time we met, I was still a doctor. Although she had already sensed I was far gone by that point…" I recalled reading through the files of the woman I had in mind, knowing about her backstory as a botanist, before she was tangled up in a scandal involving my own ex-boyfriend. I felt nothing but sympathy for the poor girl, and wanted nothing more than to break her out of Arkham and free her. I didn't understand why they had her in a high-maintenance cell; the documents explaining the details of her condition were kept private, made available only to Dr. Arkham and any doctors overseeing Pamela's treatment.
"So you expect me to waste more time and energy on breaking out a new broad from Arkham?" He spat. I realised with a cringe that made my cheeks ache that I was losing his interest, and subsequently losing him, putting me in danger again.
"Well, n-no… I mean, I guess we could wait- she always finds ways of escaping. I just thought that-" Just as the Joker looked about ready to begin screaming, red fury beginning to show even through his pale complexion, the unexpected loud clang of the steel door caught our attention. I peered over the Joker's shoulder as he turned to stare in wonder and confusion as four huge men stumbled through the door, limping. One collapsed to the ground, causing the other to halt and tend to him, patting his shoulder and fetching him grubby glasses of misty water from the sink. I stared at Mr J expectantly, waiting for him to come to the men's aid. Instead, he glared at me before shrugging, as if to say, "do it yourself."
"Typical." I muttered as I rolled my eyes, pushing past the barricade that was the Joker's body, trotting over to the men. Four of the seven henchmen had survived; Rocko, Henshaw, Bill and Lucas. Henshaw lay on the ground, clammy hand pressed to his shoulder, applying pressure to what looked like a wound created from glass shards.
"The others?" I asked simply, trying not to dwell too much on it. I didn't like any of them much anyway.
"We lost Danny and Seb, and Jordan- but you knew about him already." Lucas replied, a hint of accusation laced beneath his gruff voice's exterior. Hurt, I recoiled back a step- I was still trying to forget about the whole ordeal.
"Shut it, Lucas. It was an accident. You saw what happened." I defended weakly, hands beginning to tremble from anger. My skin cells were heating up, fizzling beneath my flesh, as my vision tinted scarlet.
"Lucas, just stop." Bill sighed, high-pitched voice making me grate my teeth.
"Bill, I can fight my own battles…" I warned quietly, staring at the ground, willing everyone to disappear into nothing so I could hold myself steady and calm down. I had no idea why I was so angry, but I put it down to tiredness and the stress of change. The fact that the Joker stood by and did nothing only made me feel worse; he didn't care, and it hurt and bit at me, tearing away what made me whole piece by piece.
"What use have you been so far, Harley? All you've done is risked all our lives, killing off three of our guys in the process. One of us, the youngest, killed by you directly. You haven't made anything better around here; even the boss wants you gone!" Lucas yelled, stomping forward to spit his daggers into my face. I flinched, before a sadistic smile crept onto my lips, playing at my obvious dimples. Behind my back, my hands curled instinctively around my trusty blade, and still the Joker stood by. I knew he could see what I was going to do, and yet he did nothing to stop me. Encouraged, my heart pounded as I drew the blade forward and sliced it through Lucas' meaty hand, splayed out at his side to gesture his emotion.
A masculine scream of agony tore through him, ending up in rasps due to his constant smoking. Satisfied, I left the knife in his hand, prepared to be reprimanded by the Joker for damaging one of his men.
I realised that I had literally damaged his property, and with a wince, I span on my heel, expecting to be greeted with a snarl of aggression and possibly my fate. However, when I bashfully blinked up at Mr J, a huge grin was plastered across his made-up face, as he began to slowly prowl towards me.
"I gotta say Harl, I'm impressed! Now Luke-"
"Lucas!" Bill retorted, face flushed with anger and protectiveness towards his friend.
"Shut up, worm," The Joker hissed, before coming to a stop right in front of me, "You took care of yourself very well, doll. You put yourself in a higher rank than them, and that's where you'll stay now. You're above them, which means they do whatever you ask without question." He continued, much to my squeals of delight. Any earlier doubt or worry about him not caring dissipated into the cool air of the damp warehouse; I was wrong. He cared for me enough to allow me to demonstrate my authority- if that wasn't love, I didn't know what love was.
"So I can boss 'em around, now?" I asked cautiously.
"Yep! Try it out!" He suggested. Flabbergasted and unsure where to begin, I clicked at Rocko.
"Rocko, I want a fresh load of clothes that I would approve of, handed in by tomorrow evening. Got it?" I demanded, stamping my foot in reminder. Rocko's head shot up, and he blushed at the thought of having to take care of women's clothing. The Joker chuckled, making my heart beat faster. I was no longer hot under the skin from anger, but from exhilaration and joy.
"And… er… Henshaw and Bill? I wantcha to break out a Miss Pamela Isley out of Arkham tomorrow. Get more guys involved if you have to. Just don't come back without her." I continued, allowing them to roll their eyes as I repeated a threat the Joker had used on them in the past, referring to me. After the moment of heated adrenaline passed, and the buzz of power had slowly fizzled until it only vibrated at the very tips of my fingers, I began to feel guilt burn the lining of my stomach at being so demanding with my newfound authority.
I glanced at Bill, who was frowning in concern at Lucas who now lay on the concrete floor, with only a dirtied rag to staunch the flow of blood from his new injury. His lips were cracked and faded until they were only slightly pinker than his skin, and his eyes had sunken in until they looked like mournful hollows; if he continued losing blood in his weakened condition, he could die. I knew that the Joker wouldn't take care of him, but simultaneously, would not want to lose any more henchmen. The numbers dwindled enough as it was.
"Bill," I murmured, quieter than before. Bill didn't look at me, only grumbling in response.
"I'll take care of him and nurse him back to health. Mr J needs as many men as possible. Besides, I am trained to look after the mentality of people, how much harder can physicality be?" I said. Bill's dark, tired eyes rose from the floor to my knees, and I sensed a hint of gratitude he was concealing within the mashed line his lips created. I was thankful to see that he was grateful; they'd still be wrapped around my little finger, but I needed them to understand that I was no tyrant.
"Excellent, Harl. You have fitted right into this little family we have in the warehouse. I gotta say kid, I'm impressed. After tonight, I can safely welcome you into the gang!" He exclaimed, arms flying out in dramatic flourish.
In pure ecstasy and with the beating heart of an excited adolescent, I threw my arms around him, crushing his torso to my own. I buried my head in his neck, breathing in the musty scent of his clothes and face paint, along with the choking scent of cigarettes that embraced my throat. I felt his rasping breath flutter against my hair, and I closed my eyes in delight. I had been wrong before- the warehouse wasn't my home. My home was in the Joker's arms.