A/N: This story will be coming to a close in the next couple of chapters but I hope you have enjoyed! I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Also in this chapter I hope you do not mind that it doesn't follow the original story piece by piece and instead I put my own twist on it. Thank you and enjoy!

I had relished those moments in his arms yet soon I was left cold and alone in the room, he had stated I should go to bed, get some rest. He slinked into the darkness and soon I heard his door slam to a close. I had taken a few final glances to the city before retreating to my own room, on the other side of the hallway from his – as though he were trying to keep me as far from his private area as possible.

I stripped before the mirror. I had lost significant weight since my time with him and my previous curves seemed more structured by bone rather than the smooth edges of my skin, though I still couldn't be deemed 'too skinny' by far. The cuts on my skin had completely healed and the scarring was a pale weight contrasting with my tanned skin, it were as though his bleached skin had fragmented itself into my own. I trailed my fingers over the risen letters as my skin felt electric at the touch, having become more sensitivity from the occurrence.

I slipped back into the shirt and crawled into the luxurious bed, the silk sheets swallowing me as my head sunk into the pillow and the memory foam surrounded me. I lay for what felt like hours staring at the dark ceiling, begging myself to fall asleep and yet in this giant bed I felt empty, alone, restless. Thoughts of stupidity crowded my brain and I could feel unnecessary anxieties beginning to haunt me. I wrestled with myself, twisting and turning as I grabbed my hair and soothed my forehead attempting to be rid of the ideas and headaches. Finally I had had enough, my body was exhausted and yet my brain continued to run. I needed a distraction.

I sat upright and flicked my feet off the bed and onto the cold laminate wood floor. The coldness of the ground providing automatic relaxation to my state yet it still wasn't enough. I fumbled to the door and without thinking my actions through I found myself tapping lightly on J's door with my index finger, my nail making a knock that was barely audible. Yet the door clicked. Of course he had heard.

He leaned against the door frame as he partially opened his door, his bare long slender torso engulfing my sight as my eyes once again danced along the numerous tattoos that covered his body.

"What?" he growled, obviously not pleased at having been woken. "I thought I told you to go sleep, Jester." His teeth gritted slightly, the metal clinked.

"I can't sleep, J. Can I come join you?" I pleaded quietly. His eyes rolled before he opened the door further, I slipped under his arm and stood before his bed as he closed the door and turned to face me. Immediately I felt the need to cheer up the situation, everything at the moment seemed to have a dark demeanour. "Now, no funny business Mr J, this has to be purely professional. I am your employee after all" I winked before giggling. He couldn't help but stifle a laugh himself as he walked straight towards me, his hand gripped a fistful of hair.

"Say… Didn't I claim you as mine?" his eyes were hungry, his grip in his hair tightening as he continued to scrunch it further. I whimpered slightly and then smiled, biting my lip and gazing into his eyes.

"I believe the ownership is reciprocated, Joker. Remember you can't have a Joke without a Jester…" in a split second my voice had gone from girly to sultry.

"Or a Jester without a Joke." His mouth met mine and we allowed our lips to fight and dance together with passion and I felt complete once again. However it was all over far too soon.

"Get into bed." He demanded. I toyed and joked with his demand yet he showed no interest in what I had thought he was proposing. Instead he sat down at a desk across the room, his body angled half to slightly to the bed as he positioned himself in front of stacks of papers it appeared he had been scribbling on. "Now go to sleep."

"Hardly helpful…" I muttered, not fully intending for J to hear.

He laughed as a demonic grin set upon his red lips that appeared almost black in this light. The veins that had always been slightly risen in his pale skin seemed more translucent and his green hair more electric than other. "And what would you like me to do about that, dollface?"

"Tell me a story…" I pondered for a moment. "Explain why you took me to that warehouse, what would happen to me if I had of fallen into that vat?"

He sighed slamming his pen back down on the table, instead he sauntered over to the bed and lay above the covers before me, crossing his arms over his chest causing the muscles to bulge slightly.

"You'd be like me" he grinned his hands waving across his body before returning to their previous position.

"Why did you end up in there?" I questioned further. He shifted uncomfortably as his mouth hung slightly open, he breathing seething at whatever was crossing his mind.

"It was a long time ago dollface… and one bad day."

*Flash Back 3rd person*

The evening was bleak, the sudden nightfall swamped black making streets barely visible through the shards of rain that fell. The lean man shook violently from the cold, his tight black suit sticking to his skin as he waited at the corner of the fencing. His hand slipped through his brown hair, sleeking it back from his eyes that were burning red from tears that he fought with every ounce.

His wife

A dagger stabbed through his heart.

His child

Instead his heart ripped through his chest.

And still there he was, a poor man distraught with the events of life waiting on a lonely dangerous street corner for gangsters he only had to associate with for one reason. The one reason that no longer existed. He had never been the wealthiest, it had been his greatest hate about himself as he wished so strongly that he could have supported his family as an honest man. To not follow his father in his footsteps of gang crime and mobster deals. But instead it seemed he had hit rock bottom, he no longer had a family, someone to care for or a purpose of living, and he was now about to commit a crime he didn't want to take part in. A crime he'd now gain nothing from.

"Oi pretty boy" a man shouted through the weather, his voice barely audible through the stinging wind.

His head tilted up, blue eyes gleaming in contrast to his dark hair. He was indeed known as the pretty boy comedian – even if that was the one reason people ever knew of his shows. He began to stalk towards the portly man who stood beneath a black umbrella, two men behind him puffing on cigarettes. The closer he approached the more he noticed the symbolic mask gripped in the man's hand hanging by his side – the red hood.

"This is yours boy" it was slammed into his chest and yet at his tall stature he didn't move, causing the chubby man named Pierro to gruff as though to hide his jealousy.

"I just get you in there, right?" he asked slipping the mask on and twisting it slightly so he could see through the red lenses.

"Aye aye, just in." Pierro turned quickly to his other men cutting the conversation short, the lack of organisation making his tensions run high.

The men chuckled and made quick remarks to one another, their accents and hushed voices made it impossible for him to hear what they could say, his only assurance was that they didn't glance his way.

"Aight, aight. It's time to go!" the man laughed before waving his hand towards the gate.

He grumbled beneath his breath before gripping the large metal pole that connected all the netted wires. With continuous yanks he slowly managed to move the fence across the ground and create a gap for the men to slide through. As he began to walk forward towards the dark looming warehouse before him he heard two men behind him begin to close the gate, despite his desperate sudden objections which were muffled by the mask they didn't stop. His nerves were causing his hands to shake, he shoved his hands in his pockets in order to not show the men his fear - there was now no swift way to escape.

He slid open the large wooden door, the vile warehouse before him still in its pristine condition just as it had been when he had been working there. The men walked past him as he sighed to himself, thinking that if he hadn't of left this job none of this would have occurred. Instead he would be at home, in bed with his wife, happy.

His heels clinked on the cement floor as one of the men began to whistle, weaving in and out of the machinery before finally all resulting up behind him.

"Jeez boy, how much further?" one of the men whined.

"It's just straight then to the le-" his voice was interrupted by the shattering of one of the sky lights as it caved in with the force of a human bat. Water poured through the gap with the falling shards of glass as the batman slammed to the ground behind the group of men. Immediately rounds of gun fire rang through the warehouse as he panicked, he was in no way able to defend himself and he most certainly wasn't capable of fighting off the batman – nor did he want to. He had seen on the news what he had done to people.
As the men continued to blast their bullets at the bat who easily deflected them and proceeded to repulsively abuse them he ran. His only escape was to slide in and out of the machinery and head directly upstairs, there was another stair case that would lead to the front door and if he were lucky he would get there in just enough time. But inevitably just as he reached the ledge which had the control panels that allowed the vats below to be filled and the stairs just in front of him the bat slammed to the floor before him.

"It's over red hood" the bats gruff automated voice boomed through an obvious voice enhancer on the bats neck. The initial shock caused him to hit bump into the machinery and liquid began to spill into the vat.

He hesitated, stepping back as the mask became clouded with condensation from his panicked gasps. But with every step he took backwards it was mimicked by a step closer by the bat. Slowly he raised a batarang, threatening him as his wavered in his motions.

"I-I" he stuttered and tried to take a step further but instead was welcomed by a large fist to the mask, the red hood cracking and revealing his now bruised and bloodied face. In his jolt backwards his body lost control as he tripped and fell into the wooden railing. It cracked under his weight as he finally regained his sight he only just managed to grip onto a spare plank of wood left hanging over the ledge. With the other free hand he slipped the red hood off and threw it to the ground watching as it smashed just mere inches away from the full vat below.

"B-Batman!" he called, plead in his voice and panic in his eyes as he tried to reach with his other hand for the platform.

The bat appeared on the edge, his black boot stepping over the tip of his fingers which were the only ways that kept him hanging. He shrieked in pain as he felt them break and yet under the weight of the muscular man before him he couldn't fall.

"Help me. Please?!" He begged.

"Why did you do these crimes? What do you want?" the batman asked, not a spark of remorse on his face as he watched him writhe in pain and fear.

"I-I'm not the red hood" he attempted to explain but this was evidently the wrong response. Batman lifted his toes slightly and with his broken fingers he was incapable of holding on. He plummeted to the floor below. But instead of the crunching of his bones upon the concrete ground his body was engulfed in green toxic liquid. He tried as he could to swim but found every movement he made he sank deeper. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. Within seconds he lost all consciousness.

The bat had tried to drain the vat, not intending to kill the man but simply fear him. If dangling from the edge of the platform wouldn't provide answers then at least falling from one would scare sense into him. But as the vat drained his body was swallowed also.

Within minutes of having entered the vat he was instead dumped into a nearby lake. His lungs gasping for air at the sudden freezing cold water as his eyes shot open. Every inch of his skin burned in agony, his hair itched and his muscles seized. What was happening to him?! But overall he felt numb from emotion. He was no longer sad, no longer depressed. His heart didn't ache and instead as he felt the rain patter down onto his sodden body, his eyes gazing at his new reflection as he stood hunched in the lake he laughed. The anger he felt towards the men that had killed his wife, his child; the anger he felt towards the men that worked for the red hood; the anger he felt towards the bat… It all infatuated his brain and he knew now what he wanted. He refused that someone would now ever have power over him, he would own the world. And he'd kill anyone that stood in his way.

He had trudged for hours along a dark road, his white shirt sticking see-through to his now bleached white skin. He found himself incoherently grunting from time to time, his brain running mad with ideas and hate. He had taken a few stops along the way, snapping a few necks with no hesitation and instead deep satisfaction, stripping them of their weapons and instead hiding it within the rim of his trousers – though it was hardly covered by the shirt which he had tried to drape over the handles – but finally he had ended up outside the horrid bar which had resulted for him to be in this situation in the first place.

He gritted his teeth, his breathing seething through the gaps as he hobbled forwards towards the door. Men stared as he entered, detested by his look. His green hair electrifying even in its sodden condition, his icy skin haunting to all persons. Women turned away in fear as men hushed their voices. Regardless if they knew if he was a threat or not they didn't want to take no chances with a man who appeared like that.

Without a doubt or hesitation he swaggered straight to the men surrounding a circular table. Their eyes cast upon his inhuman figure as he approached, his deathly cold stare fixated on the man in the middle.

"Is that you?" The man almost began to laugh but without a second more, he pulled a gun and shot the man directly between the eyes.

Slowly a laugh began to vibrate in his chest, an unusual noise that was foreign to his ears. A laughter of insanity and madness that chilled the men in there to their bones. "Anybody else want to join him? Want a laugh?" he crouched to a man before him who was now sat beside the dead body, his voice patronising as though imitating a baby. "No?" he shook his head yet his gaze never left the hard mans face. "NO?!" He shrieked.

"No." the man replied forcing the word out.

"Good. Good." He stood upright, "Now! You can all call me … Mr J. Or Joker if you so like." His arms opened as he turned on the spot as though addressing a theatre audience. One man stifled a laugh and attempted to object, but Joker rose a gun and pulled the trigger.

Bang.

Silence.