Make Me Proud

A/N: Double chapter! -_- Well I like to think of it that way since I updated so soon, so I expect more reviews! -_- anyway! I hope you enjoy my dears because from here on out it's gonna be raining blood and bullets! I felt a little more inspired for this one but don't expect it to be like something that Shakespeare wrote XD Enjoy!

"What have they done?" Monica asked as she pulled up to the building that her men had considered home for so long. Loud music blasted inside and the windows shook with the force of the beat. Her jaw dropped at the pure insult that they were making by turning it into a night club.

"What do you want me to do?" Beelzebub asked through clenched teeth. His hand reached for the Beretta on his hip as he dismounted his bike and stared at the club with disgust. Monica merely continued to look at the outside façade with shock. Bright neon pink letters stared back at her and the occasional drug addict stumbled by near the entrance.

Her blood was boiling, she left for three years and this happened? Her boots hit the ground beneath her with harsh echoes as she cracked her neck and sneered at the two guards standing outside. One of them whispered something into the little headpiece that he wore before straightening up once more.

"What the hell happened to our bar?" another voice snapped as more motorcycles pulled up behind them. Monica didn't turn to look at the new arrivals; she knew who they were by the mere rumble that their bikes made.

"Who did you leave in charge?" Monica asked, her vision clouding over with rage as she tried to restrain herself from bursting into the club with blazing guns. More of her men stood beside her with glares while guns were readied.

"Jack," Beelzebub replied as several men scoffed with apparent disapproval.

"It's no wonder this place has gone to hell, this is all your fault for letting him take care of the club!" Gabriel, Monica's third in command, boomed from the back making his way towards through the mass of bikers in front of him. Monica turned to look at him with a sharp look.

Gabriel pounced on Beelzebub sending both of them to the ground. The bikers around them backed away slowly knowing how much damage a single punch from one of the two could do.

"Enough!" Monica barked placing her boot on top of Beelzebub's back seconds before he could deliver another blow to the side of Gabriel's face. She pushed him off of the other man without much struggle and sighed in disapproval. The two bikers stared at each other before picking themselves up off of the ground. Beelzebub merely wiped away the blood from his broken nose with his gloved hand and spat at Gabriel's feet.

Monica got in between the two as Gabriel shot forward to hit her second in command once more.

"Stop it!" she yelled at both of them.

The men around the trio continued to watch quietly. Monica sighed and realized what she had gotten herself into the moment she decided to get her men back together. Old grudges sprung up and unsettled scraps surfaced. The two men on either side of her had a long history between them of arguments and fights. She could feel herself slowly lose grasp of the control and calm that she once had. Her father had warned her about losing herself to the club, she didn't care anymore. She had nothing to lose, she would wrong others before they wronged her if she was given the chance. Letting people walk over her was no longer something that she would be able to do, not with a gang of bikers looking to her for orders.

"We're supposed to be taking back our club, not beating each other to death!" Monica growled shoving Gabriel away from Beelzebub as the pair of men continued to size each other up.

"Whatever you say, darling," Beelzebub spat turning away from Gabriel once more. One day he would beat the other man to death; he just had to make sure that Monica was nowhere near them to stop their fight.

"How are we supposed to get in there?" Berial asked, standing in front of Gabriel while attempting to keep him away from Beelzebub. Monica turned to look at him and smiled coldly, out of all of the bikers there she would have thought he would have guessed how they were going to get in.

"Guns blazing, gentlemen," she replied, walking over to her motorcycle. She pulled out her two silver revolvers and strapped them to her waist before turning to face the club. Taking a deep breath she started to walk over to the main entrance.

"If anyone gets in the way, shoot them," she ordered. Tonight she wasn't going to take any chances; she wanted what was rightfully hers. Nothing was going to stand in her way, nothing.

The pair of guards near the entrance stepped in front of the door as soon as they saw her walk over. They tried to use their imposing stature to intimidate her which only made Monica chuckle lightly.

"What's so funny, girl?' one of them asked, his hand going to the gun near his waist. Beelzebub merely rose the AK-47 in his hands and aimed it at the man's head. The guard froze and let go of the gun while his partner attempted to make up for the mistake.

"Not tonight, boy," Gabriel laughed, pointing his shotgun at the other guard.

"Move or I'll have you shot where you stand," Monica ordered, her smile still in place. The two men stared at her with doubt before she pulled the trigger of her revolver with irritation. The first guard went down holding his wounded knee in pain. She remained completely apathetic towards his curses as he tried to reach for her leg with a bloodied hand. The bullet had probably hit a vital vein due to all of the blood that he was losing.

"I won't miss this time," she stated eerily as she pointed her gun at the remaining guard. He moved out of her way after a few more moments of hesitation. "Wise choice," Monica laughed as she stepped over the bleeding guard and made her way inside. The rest of her men followed after her with their guns ready.

She made her way down a narrow hallway yelling at the people in her way to move and get out of the club. Fury built up inside of her as she noticed all of the changes that had been made to her precious club.

The black paint had been replaced with neon purple and the bar had been completely remodeled. The more she looked around the more agitated she became. Someone had to be responsible for all of the changes and she was hell-bent on finding out who.

The music died down the moment they stepped onto the dance floor and into full view. Her eyes shot over to the DJ, she recognized the man instantly.

"Oh shit," Jack mumbled taking off the head phones while stumbling away from the gang of bikers in front of him. He had never expected to see them again, not after everything they had been through in the past.

"Get him," Monica snapped as Gabriel moved forward and grabbed a chair off of the bar. He hurled it towards Jack and managed to hit the back of his knees. The club owner hit the floor with a sickening crack before he managed to pick himself up. Staying there was out of the question, he would end up with something worse than broken bones if he let himself get caught by the bikers behind him.

"Dance for me, Jackie boy," Monica snarled, pulling out her guns and pointing them at him. Several dancers gasped and moved away from her. By that time everything within the club had quieted down and every head was directed at the group of bikers in the center of the room.

Without warning, Monica let loose a stream of bullets at the bottom of Jack's feet. He jumped back and tried his best to dodge the shots. She felt a rush come over her as she continued to torment the man in front of her; it had been so long since she had held her guns…

Beelzebub chuckled beside her, the woman he knew was back. It had been years since he had seen her let loose like that.

"Come on guys, I looked after this place for you," Jack pleaded as a bullet grazed his leg. He jumped back with fear apparent in his eyes as the bikers continued to laugh at his predicament. Monica stopped when she heard him and tilted her head in amusement.

"Looked after it?" she questioned, walking forward with a predatory stance. Jack gulped and stepped back, how could he have forgotten how horrifying the woman in front of him was?

"Is that how you see it?" she whispered, putting her guns away. A gleaming knife replaced them, her laughter reached his hears as the blade pressed against his neck.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to change anything," Jack pleaded as he turned his face to look at the leader of the Bastards beside him. Her eyes remained fixed on something other than him, the blade continued to press against his neck dangerously.

"Of course, I believe you," Monica replied with honesty in her voice. Her eyes followed the lights above them.

So much color, there was so much color.

She recalled the place being darker; you could barely walk a foot without tripping over something in the dark. The bar held assorted bottles, none of which she had left behind. Weak liquor replaced her tequila and vodka,

Jack stared at Gabriel as Monica hugged him and shushed him. He had gotten so scared of their wrath that he had begun to cry, he didn't want to lose his life, not over something like this.

"Thank god, I thought you were going to kill me over something this stupid," he replied. Monica's eyes closed for a brief moment as she nodded.

Something this stupid?

This was her family's legacy.

Jack gasped as her blade plunged into his chest. Monica twisted the knife in further with a snarl, enjoying the sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones. Blood started to ooze out and stain her gloves as Jack's body slumped forward.

Beelzebub smiled as she pushed him off of her and took out the blade with a harsh tug. Jack's dead body fell in front of her as she wiped the blood off on his clothes.

She had just killed someone.

The thought didn't disturb her as much as it had before, he had deserved it. She felt no guilt or remorse, she didn't feel anything.

"Clean this up," she ordered as two other bikers moved forward and picked Jack's body up. Gabriel stared at her with concern as she put her blade away and stared at him.

"Are you ok?" he asked her when he noticed that the rest of the bikers were busy with threatening the people who had been witness to the murder. Dancers rushed around them in a desperate attempt to get out before someone else died.

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I took my father's place," Monica replied, her face expressionless. "This is just routine to me by now."

Gabriel nodded in understanding. Her answer made sense; if you weren't prepared to kill someone for your club then you weren't fit to lead. He merely wondered how she would deal with it once the fact really sunk in.

"Get Viktor to trash the place and rebuild it," she added as Gabriel nodded and pulled out his cellphone. Monica continued to watch the chaos around her. Occasionally someone would bump into her in their attempt to get out, they would pale when they saw who she was and beg for their lives. She ignored them and made her way over to the bar.

She broke the glass case with her elbow and reached in before pulling out the only bottle of tequila. The golden liquor gleamed despite the dim lights as she poured it into a glass shot. She sat on one of the stools calmly as the sounds of sirens reached her ears.

"So quickly," she whispered to herself. Gotham's finest had responded much quicker than she had given them credit for. She turned her head and nodded to Beelzebub who ordered the rest of her men out of the club. By the time the cops showed up only she remained along with Gabriel and her second in command.

"Hands where I can see them!" one of the cops shouted as they flashed the light in her eyes. She sighed and took the shot of tequila from the bar. Facing them, she downed the liquid and let the glass slip out of her hands.

No sooner had it shattered; one of the cops had her pressed down onto the bar. She laughed as they slipped the hand cuffs on her wrists and tightened them more than necessary. The cop pulled her up and shoved her forward towards the entrance.

"May I inquire the reason behind your visit, messieurs?" she asked as Gabriel was taken down and hand cuffed beside her. She could hear Beelzebub punching one of the cops before he too was restrained and taken out of the club.

"We got a call regarding gunshots, you're in possession of two revolvers," the cop explained as Monica nodded in understanding.

"And so you assumed that I pulled the trigger, clever," she replied as she was brought outside. She winked at one of her men who was hiding in a nearby alley before he nodded back and disappeared into the shadows. The cop missed her signal and lowered her into one of the cars before slamming the door shut behind her.

Monica relaxed her muscles and looked out of the window like a child on a field trip as they drove her down to the police station. It didn't matter if they took her in, she would be out by morning. They wouldn't find anything in the club other than knocked over bottles of beer and liquor mixes. The blood and body had already been taken care of.

"Welcome home," the cop mocked as he walked her through the double doorway of the entrance. After they processed all of her papers he led her into the holding cells where other women sat and leaned against the bars. Monica's eyes scanned their faces looking for one in particular.

The moment the cop undid her hand cuffs and hurled her in she knew her plan had worked. Harley sat in one of the corners, her head low and her knees pulled up to her chest.

Lucifer had informed Monica that they had transferred Harley directly from the hospital after they had found out about her record. Their plan had gone according to plan, getting into the same cell as her had been the goal all along.

"Harley, fancy seeing you here, love," Monica commented standing in front of the other woman. Harley's head shot up at the familiar voice. The biker enjoyed the way the harlequin's blue eyes widened in fear and recognition.

"You're starting to get the picture," the biker added as she reached down and pulled Harley up to her view. The blond had never regretted anything before, but slicing the neck of the woman who had her in her hold was something that she wished she could take back. After finding out that she had lived through it she knew Monica would want revenge.

"If you touch me, Mistah J will-" Harley started before Monica shook her violently.

"He'll what?" Monica hissed, daring the other woman to try and use the clown price of crime against her. "Cut me, choke me, stab me?" the biker questioned with glee.

Harley stared back with fear and pleaded with the other women in the cell. After several glances at the jacket Monica was wearing at the patch that read 'President' the other criminals in the room decided to turn a blind eye to what was happening. They didn't even bother in calling a guard over. There was clearly a score to be settled, they weren't going to interfere.

"He's tired all of that, Harley," Monica laughed, "and I'm still here."

The harlequin narrowed her eyes at the woman before her. Why was she there when the Joker could have killed her before? Why did he still need Monica when he had her? She was good enough wasn't she? Sure she sometimes did things without thinking and irritated him but she was convinced that she was better than the biker in front of her.

"Joker isn't here to save you," Monica added, her voice dropping drastically as Harley uttered a pitiful squeak, "and I believe we have a score to settle."

Without another word, Monica grabbed a fistful of Harley's blond hair and rammed her face into the bars in front of her. The harlequin screamed in pain and scratched at Monica's hand in desperation as she continued to slam her face into the metal bars.

"This is for ordering me around in my own home," Monica snarled, pulling her hand back before she delivered a blow to Harley's face. The blond stumbled back holding her broken nose while crying uncontrollably. She attempted to swing at the biker as she neared her once more but missed pitifully.

"This one is for claiming my room as your own," the biker added grabbing her hair once more before kneeing her in the face. Harley flew back and crashed onto the cold concrete ground beneath her.

"And this one, this one is for my neck," Monica growled animalistically as she straddled Harley's waist and began to rain blow after blow onto her face. The harlequin's legs kicked desperately underneath her.

"Break it up!" several guards shouted as they ran towards the cell where the fight had broken out. They managed to tear Monica away from the beaten Harlequin beneath her for a few moments.

"If I ever see you again, I'll kill you!" Monica thundered as two guards managed to pull her out of the holding cell. "You hear me? I'll kill you!"

Harley merely cried quietly as another guard led her in the opposite direction. The blond noticed that they were taking her towards the front of the station. She was greeted by Grumpy and Blade; the pair stood waiting near the entrance impatiently.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?" Grumpy asked as the cop handed her off to them. They had bailed her out on the clown's orders but they had never expected to see her like that. She ignored him and the hand he had offered as she made her way down the stairs of the station.

She opened the door leading outside with a bloody hand and rushed over to a black escalade that was parked down the street.

"Mistah J!" she cried flinging herself into the clown's arms as soon as the passenger's door was opened. The Joker cringed when she attached herself to his waist. His teeth grit warningly at her, she should have learned that he loathed her hugging him.

The moment she looked up at him, however, his fake smile dropped. Her face was bloodied and cut and several bruises were already forming.

"What happened, Harley?" he asked as Grumpy and Blade got into the Escalade and the driver pulled away from the station.

"It was that bitch, puddin'!" Harley wailed dramatically waiting for the clown to order his men after Monica for what she had done to her.

The Joker felt himself smile once more, genuinely smile. His hand brushed over the cuts and bruises on Harley's face analyzing the work Monica had done. She must have hit the blond several times in order to inflict such injuries. Satisfaction settled over him and pleasure shot up his spine. Monica had probably planned all of it; the clown was pleasantly surprised at how far her drive for revenge had taken her. She

"Beautiful," the clown whispered, pleased with the damage that his squeeze had left behind, "simply beautiful." Harley beamed up at him thinking that he was referring to her.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the masochist inside of him wondered what it would be like to have her unleash her fury upon him. His smile grew wider even as Harley continued to sob against his chest.

Oh, the possibilities.

He would have to run into her soon.

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