His Har Har Lee Chapter 26, a batman begins/dark knight fanfic

a/n: LONG a/n, but bear with me, it's all important. Followed by a LONG CHAPTER though. huge kudos and Glasgow smiles to Gamine Madcap, CaptainJacksBabe, Beowulfwulf, PhantasmBunny, 00 BodySnatcher, GryffindorHyuuga, Lucky Duck 24, anonymous (whoever you are!), Mournsong, AdamKitten, somethingquestionable, darkkblood, put here 2 feel joy, Ashley, PFpandas, nevabeenkissd (w00t girl for getting an account on here!), Jeremy M23,

thanks again for my lovely reviews and belated birthday wishes! You people know how to make a sick girl happy. Doom on this changing weather, I swear my head turned into a weather barometer. Hoorah for ear & sinus infections and bronchitis! I've been more than a little loopy, so let's hope this chapter doesn't lose its focus. Okay, maybe more like…pray to the Amoxicillin gods it doesn't drown itself into a big fat hole. Apologies in advance if anything seems off-track in this chapter… And yes, I did change the summary…I felt like seeing something new on there, maybe draw more people in.

clarification: Lee doesn't know it was Nathan—and that'll be explained later, but as a heads up, which I need to explain better, he's the psychotic guy who's interested in fear and drugs, correct? So what better way to test his earliest chemistry experiments than a memory-induced serum on Lee? Anyway…all shall be revealed…well not all, but some, in this chapter. Maybe. Bahaha. Doom on our melting snow. It's a river of mud outside. Fun for…rolling and…stuff… Also, last chapter or two, I was trying to confuse you guys…throw in another twist, make you think it was Josh who raped her. But if you go back and read the dialogue, it practically screams Crane.

Also. I realize this story is dark, and not exactly the happiest thing ever…but there rarely seems to be bunnies and overflowing rainbows when it comes to Joker's chaotic world. I do, however, promise more…bright shiny things in flashbacks. As a part of the healing process. But the present has too much going for it to let Lee and Josh sit down and have a pillow fight over a cup of hot chocolate, catch my drift? Also if you need help envisioning what Josh looks like in the past, imagine Patrick from 10 Things I Hate About You (fav. Movie eva).

don't own it, but the plot and Lee's characterization, as well as other characters, are mine.

Mild warning: lots of language in this chapter. Kind of. Just more so than usual. Must be the meds. And some bits of fluffy goodness too though.

"Are you—"

"No."

"Can you at least—"

"No."

"I just wanna—"

"No!" I snapped shakily. If Josh Kerit asked if I was A. O. K. one more time, I swear I'd shove his P's and Q's so far up his ass not even surgery could remove them.

It had taken him a dozen tries to calm me down before he'd finally resorted to wrapping a firm hand around my head and ignoring my gnashing teeth. He'd hauled me into his arms and against his chest like a sack of potatoes. I winced. I didn't want him to touch me. I didn't want to be touched ever again. And a quick kick to his balls made my nonverbal opinion quite clear.

He'd dropped me then, beating the wall with a fist and shaking with barely controlled restraint. I bowed my head, trying to block out the blinding light coming from the fluorescents and the windows. I hadn't realized how much time had passed. He glowered at me through his damp curtain of hair, lips curled inward. I shoved myself against the wall and waited. Josh reached for me again, but I shot out that I could do it myself. He threw his hands up in the air.

"Of course you can fucking do it yourself!" he roared. "Your bruises are living proof of that, Harley." I watched him march jerkily past me and down the flight of stairs. He collapsed on the bottom step, bowing between his legs as his fingers pulled through the roots of his hair and stayed there.

I was scared out of my mind.

Not merely because of what had happened. Or what I'd gone through.

But because of how Josh was taking it.

Or…more the way he wasn't taking it.

I tried to hold it back. I swear I did. But my stomach had other thoughts and demands, which were apparently higher on the priority scale than my weak protests. So I bolted as fast as my shaking limbs allowed back into the bathroom. I slammed and locked the door shut, just barely reaching the toilet in time.

My vision was swimming by the time I'd finished. Great. So not only was I disgusted with myself, but myself was disgusted as well…as much as that can make sense.

I hugged the porcelain close to me, afraid that if I let go too soon, the whole room would pivot out from under me again and gravity would have lost all say in my fate. So I clung on to something. Because heaven knows Josh wasn't there to hold onto. He was too busy dealing with his newfound male 50,000 leagues-beneath-the-sea soft side. I snorted. Emotions and Josh went together like oil and water. Aside from the anger—they just didn't mix.

The knob on the door twisted back and forth slightly, before the opposing side realized I'd locked it. "You okay in there?"

I opened my mouth to reply when a second wave of nausea slammed home. When I'd purged myself empty, I slid back to the floor feeling clammy.

"Guess not," he mumbled, before trying the handle again. As if my volcanic bowels had the power to unlock it. I watched the door shake with fading interest. I decided I didn't care anymore. "Unlock the door, Lee."

I just stared at the wall.

"Lee? God, I know you're in there. Unlock the damn door. Now."

"I can't."

"The hell you can't, Harley! I don't have time for games. Now open up this door before I break it down." I could hear the panic in his voice. The sirens had started up again, and there were feet roving downstairs. I shivered involuntarily. My wet clothes were chafing my skin in a thin layer of icy sweat.

The door blew back in on itself. Josh barely hesitated as he pocketed the knife and pulled me into his hold. "I told you to open the damn door, Harley. I told you," he muttered harshly, swinging us around as he charged out the door and down a back set of stairs. He braced us against a wall until the coast was clear. When we'd made it safely outside, Josh tightened his grip.

"You have to trust me if I'm gonna get you through this, Lee. You hear me? God. You are so screwed up," he ranted, hardly joggling me or my faraway mind. His words grew fuzzier and fuzzier until it was just an echoing drone. I watched his lips move, then teeth snap, thin jaw clench as he regarded me coolly. He was saying my name, over and over. When we'd reached the car, my entire body and brain had gone numb. My eyes slid closed when he'd buckled me in, and the engine roared to life. I felt the floor pitch out from under me again. I struggled to stay upright.

I was in hell. Total, complete hell. It's like my motor functions had lost control, permanently imprisoning me with Josh. I glared at him from the corner of my eye. There was a gleam in his, but his lips were pinched down in a thin, unrecognizable line. He wouldn't look at me. He hadn't looked at me for the past thirty minutes. At least, not in the eyes, anyway. Like he was afraid of what he'd see in them.

I hadn't even noticed where we were going until the car slammed to a squealing stop. I groaned, pitching forward in my seat. Josh shoved his door open, then violently shut. I scrambled for my own seatbelt.

Big no no.

Just as I'd worked the door open, fighting the sudden black and white vision, Josh was there, snapping my head off. I flinched back, my vertebrae pinned painfully against the armrest.

"Sit down, shut up, and listen to me!" Josh pulled in and lingered over me. His fingers traced around and cupped the back of my ear. At any other moment, I would have wilted into a puddle. But the danger was still there in his glacial gaze. "I'm gonna fix this, but only if you let…me, Harley Quintzel. Got it? I swear, I'm not gonna…" he sighed loudly, wiping a hand down his face, "I'm not gonna…hurt…you anymore. I'd never—"he choked off quite suddenly. He searched my face, finding what he wanted, then leaned back and left me alone in the car.

I didn't move a muscle until he came back.

"Josh, I'm so—"

"Save it. I don't…do not…want to hear you apologize again…for something…that was not…your fault. Hmm? Understand me?"

I nodded.

He snorted. "Peachy."

I looked down as Josh shoved a bottle of pills into my frozen fingers. "What's this?"

"What's it look like?" The car shifted into reverse, and we were off again. "You hungry? Can't take those," he looked pointedly at me, a mixture of grief and aggravation written all over his face, "on an empty stomach."

Like a stupid illiterate, I just glared. "Josh. What is this?"

I was awarded a grunt this time. "Sunshine and fucking lollipops, Lee. What else does it need to be? Jeeze."

I gave in, squinting as my vision doubled the letters. "M-m-morn…morning after?!" I screeched. Josh stomped down on the breaks at a yellow light. He jerked the bottle out of my hands and twisted the cap open. Dumping one in his hands, he threw the remainder back in the sack, and shoved the offending capsule at me.

I stared him down.

But my quivering lips realized this wasn't a game anymore. His deadly look said enough.

The words were ground out, painfully slow and lowered a few octaves. "Unless…you want…to keep it?"

"Look, we don't even know—"

"Take the damn pill, Lee."

We pulled into the nearest McDonald's. I couldn't take my eyes off the tiny capsule in the palm of my hand. When I glanced up at the bright yellows and reds, my stomach dropped. "Oh, I get it. As if the rapist wasn't enough, let's tack on death by McFatty Patties, shall we?" I forced out a laugh. But Josh didn't find it funny. Not. One. Bit.

I let out another whimpered chuckle. "You, uh…you have a thing for grease of mass destruction?"

"You, uh…" he mocked. "You have a thing for swallowing down dry pills and puking them back up? 'Cause I've got plenty more where that came from." Josh paused. "Don't you dare fight me on this. If not for me, do it for yourself, huh?"

Something for myself.

That sounded okay.

After a few minutes, I'd managed to down a double cheeseburger (grudgingly eaten) and a small fry (I could feel my fat cells expanding). With a final sip of watered-down Dr. Pepper, I swallowed the pill. Josh scrutinized me with narrowed slits.

"Open."

I gaped. "Excuse me?!"

"Your mouth, Lee-sters. Open it."

"What, so you can force feed me another dozen amputated body parts in support of serial killer clowns? Or how 'bout advertising me for the next Super Size Me episode? I think not, you son of a bitch."

Josh's eyes thinned further. "I'm going to hope that's the pill killing your hormones, and let that one slide. When I said 'open your Goddamn mouth', I just wanted to see that pill gone, not get beaten to death by some PETA infomercial."

Glowering, I grabbed the cap of pills and downed two more, chewing them angrily in his face. "Does this calm your precious bastard fears of having to be a father anytime soon?"

If it were possible, Josh glowered even more. "I swear to God, Lee, if you die of birth control overdose, I'll—" but he cut himself off short, mumbling under his breath.

"Where are we going?"

"Doc's. Time for your checkup."

I frowned. "I hate—"

"Love ya too, Harley."

I ignored his first confession. He didn't mean it. My eyes burned. He didn't mean it. Just a means to an end.

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The car was parked just outside Chattanooga's walk-in clinic. Jeremy was tugging wildly at his numb arms, which had been regretfully folded beneath him for the past several hours of drive. He grunted at the bruised skin. And found himself reflexively searching for Lee.

He'd heard most of the conversation from the trunk. So that bastard had dutifully plagued her with a son and a daughter. And on top of that, he hadn't even known about the little girl. God, Lee had a thing for secrets. Just watching her as she peered out the back windshield, he could see the furtive ideas swirling around. Fight or flight. The basic instinct they both shared. It's what made them human, whereas Joker… Jeremy wiped a tired hand over his greasy hair. This Joker guy was on a completely different and unreachable level. A demigod, as it were. Of destruction. Hate. And passionate insanity. All because of Harley Quintzel.

"You, uh, knit, do you, Jer Bear?"

Joker came around in front, strategically blocking Jeremy's view of the confused-looking woman.

"Uh, no."

"Hmmm," the paint-less clown nodded sympathetically. "You're about to learn. See, we're about to knit a stitch in time. 'Cause I gotta get her," he jerked his head back towards Lee, "in and out of here," he nodded again, "within forty-fucking-five minutes."

Jeremy grunted again. "Then do it. No one's stopping you."

Joker waved a hand dismissively. "I can't be seen. Paparazzi and…all that jazz. My fans would have a field day over this. So, to keep my celebrity zeal on a down-low, I've, uh, I've got to use you. My personal…ticking time bomb, to get my Achilles heel…fixed." His now-gloved hand dove into the pocket of his trench coat, fishing around. Jeremy took an unsteady step back, only to have Matthew shove him forward. He hadn't been ready for the whiplash. But Joker was.

His mouth was open, trying to suck in a truckload of air, when he noticed something small crammed between his teeth. He tried to cough it up, but found leather slamming his jaw shut, and pinching his nose closed.

"Swa-llow. Be a good little patien-t."

Jeremy shook his head wildly, but his body betrayed him in its need for air. The pill slid down his throat. Joker released him obediently. Jeremy doubled over, clenching his sides.

"Best to just bi-te the bulle-t in these cases, Jeremy. You have," he glanced down at a watch-less wrist, then bent down to stare up at Jeremy's red and quivering face, "forty-two minutes. Not to, uh, beat a dead horse, but…oh, ha, do ya like soap operas?"

Jeremy glanced up at Joker through his overgrown bangs, clenching his teeth and blowing out hot air. "Y-you're fucking insane."

"'Like…like sands through the hourglass,'" Josh giggled, pulling up and grabbing Jeremy by the hair, "so ends the days of your life. Time's running. Better go catch," he hurled Jeremy towards Lee's side of the car, "it."

"What the hell," Jeremy gasped, wrenching open the car's door, "am I supposed to do about it?" He redirected his attention. "Lee? Hey—" he reached in for her, but she curled against the opposite side of the car, dragging her son with her. Jeremy frowned. "She doesn't want to."

"Women never want to. Some people just need…proper…motivation."

"Like?"

"Like," Joker drew out the word, tucking his hands behind his back innocently, "If you don't get Lee back to me in thirty-nine minutes, you die."

"Bullshit! I thought you were going to give her motivation?!"

"I never specified," he swallowed thickly, "who would get the cattle prod. Now ge-t. Scram before…"

"Holy shit, what the hell did you put in that pill, you sick f—" Jeremy braced himself against the open car door, doubling over again in a sheen of sweat.

Joker wagged his finger. "Ah, ta, ta, such lang-uage," he drawled.

"What. Did. You. Do?!"

The man shrugged, turning his back on Jeremy as he trudged around to jerk Lee's door open. She nearly fell out, but he caught her, gathering her splayed limbs in his arms. He quirked a brow at his son before hauling Lee's quivering body against his chest. Jeremy watched through hazed eyes as Joker leaned over and nuzzled his forehead to Lee's. Lee. Who looked like a caged rabbit. Frightened and confused.

Without looking up, Josh sucked on his scars in mild contemplation before answering. "I, ah, I took your medication's strength up a few notches. Wen-t from…generi-c…to…ah, poison." His dangerous eyes trailed back up to the hovered young man, darkening with protective rage. "I coated the damn pill with some lovely…little…toni-c…of mine…ah, with a few active ingredients. Should the plan fail. You have…I believe it's…thirty-eigh-t…minutes left."

"You poisoned me?"

A shrug. "More or less."

"So what, I'm just…I'm just supposed to want to spend my last thirty-eight minutes on this fucking planet taking care of a girl who doesn't give a shit about me?!" He groaned at the unfairness of it all.

Joker frowned. "One man's shit is another man's para-dise. And you're a-bout to give a damn. I have the antidote to keep you on this fucking planet."

"And the catch?" He pulled himself up, swallowing his bruised pride.

"No strings attach-duh. 'Cept, well…" Joker chuckled heartily. "My little ventriloquist here is an excellent puppeteer."

"I thought you said you had the antidote."

"Oh, I do. But she's tugging at your heartstrings. Poison's enough of a motivation, righ-t? To get away with this? But, see…I needed an insurance policy…that you'd be kept on a short leash after. Sure, there's poison on it, but it's what's inside that coun-ts. A few…explosive qualities shy of a betrayal. And our little Harley, ah, here…is getting the det-on-at-or for an early birthday…presen-t."

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"What did…what did you just say?" We'd gotten into the clinic fairly quickly, but it seemed ages had passed as the gynecologist probed and tested. Josh had insisted he be present and I'd denied him access over my dead body. But when all was said and done, they'd let him in with me to wait for the results. And with my heart in my throat, I clung onto him as the doctor's words fumbled over clipboards and machines and test tubes. His diagnosis was complete bullshit. It had to be. He hadn't been there. What would he know? God, I could still feel those hands all over me…

"Lee-sters," Josh's voice took on an odd edge. "You told me you were—"

"Shut the fuck up, Kerit," I snapped. But I couldn't stop clinging to him. Like if I let go, I'd plummet through the earth's ass and out the other end to who knew where. My palms were sweaty. Disgusted, I pushed myself away from Josh, rolling onto my side on the paper-covered table-top. I curled up.

Josh's hands were on my shoulder to pull me back, but I flipped him the finger, and shoved him off. I knew me. I was the only one who believed me.

The doctor sighed and left us alone abruptly. After a minute's silence, Josh rounded the table to crouch down and glare into my face.

"Damnit, Harley."

"I told you," I was crying. "I told you. Why won't you believe me?"

"Doctor's a bit more of a professional than you, Lee."

"But—"

Josh swore at me, backing up and wrenching the door open.

"You weren't raped, Lee. So get the fuck over it."

And the door slammed.

a/n: oh my goodness. Two cliffies?! You people owe me big!! Clearing up some future confusion: surprise, Lee wasn't raped, but she thinks she was. All due to our lovely Crane's experiment. If you remember, she felt a prick on her arm before…yeah. And Josh doesn't believe her. Can you imagine the chaos this will create in their relationship?!

I overcame the plague, but weird McDonald's facts were discovered upon this chapter. For instance…my blind eyes were disgustingly opened to the fact that there are no real animals in their food. My naïve 19-year-old self is scarred for life now. Secondly, there was a serial killer named John Wayne Gacy who was, in fact, a clown. McDonald's profit went down after that. Stupid, stupid clowns. Anyway, as always, if you read it, please tell me what you think through that lovely Review option. Kay? Kay!

For Gamine Madcap, I read A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man—about 5 parts of gruesome hell in that. I'll take it from you not to read Dubliners. Oh, and now for our lovely confession upon Christopher's name: C. L. Owen, partially spells Clown. So congrats to PhantasmBunny 

00 BodySnatcher: lol yes it is. You're welcome to anytime!

PFpandas: LOL. Oh goodness. You're close, girl. Made me laugh though. I promise it'll come into play later.