"Wakey wakey, lovebirds."

The voice was playful, but very cruel, and I opened my eyes slowly. Lights dazzled my eyes, and though my brain told my arm to raise to protect my eyes, it didn't. In fact all of my limbs seemed immobile, as I groggily tried to shift them. Once my eyes had adjusted to the bright light, I found myself stand in a wooden chair, and tied to it with tough rope.

Panic swept through my system, and I flung myself about to get loose, to no avail.

"Oh Marceline, nice of you to join the party." the voice added, and I recognised it as my dad's. I looked up at him and saw him standing there in his suit, leaning on a cane, completely comfortable with me being tied up. In fact, he may have been the one that did it.

"What's going on?" I asked, searching the room with my keen eyes. There were henchmen in the corner that were standing by for him. Useless.

He smirked. "Getting deja vu?" he asked, pushing his hair back.

Deja vu was the wrong word, it was more like panicked memories of the past. This entire situation was near identical to when his men had kidnapped me and brought me to Gotham, where I'd woken up tied to a chair. Well almost identical.

I heard stirring from behind me, and tilted my head back to see Victor tied to a chair, back to back with me.

"Victor, are you alright?" I asked, seeing blood around his mouth. They'd roughed him up quite a bit.

The red liquid trailed down his chin, and I so desperately wanted to wipe it away and clean him up.

"Marcie, you're awake? They didn't hurt you did they?" he questioned.

I chuckled. "No of course not, but don't worry-" I started, before I was cut off by a big yawn.

The Joker squatted down beside the chairs so both of us could see him just as well. "This is just so suffocatingly boring, sitting around and moping through all this lovey dovey stuff." he sighed.

I gave him a hard glare. "This is about Victor isn't it? You tied us up because I like him, shit that's stupid!" I snapped, before getting a backhand across the face. I wasn't expecting the collision, and so my face swept to the other side violently.

Victor furrowed his brow. "What do we have to do with the Joker?" he asked, turning his head, and I felt his dark hair tickle my neck.

Something resonated with my dad, and a grin grew on his face. "You didn't tell him, Marceline. How very naughty of you."

I scoffed. "As if I was going to tell a guy I was interested in that I was associated with you. He'd run for the hills."

Victor laughed. "You're associated with him?"

Sighing, I replied to him: "I don't want to talk about it." My head fell forward to look at the ground.

Dad grinned even harder, and crawled along to Victor. "She might not want to tell you but I will. That girl you've been touching up?" he started, grinning so hard his face might tear, pausing to deliver some aspect of tension. "That's my daughter."

It took a second for it to settle into Victor's mind, but it was clear when it did, as his eyes grew wide, and he choked out a laugh.

"Marcie, he's joking, right?"

I didn't really know what to say, and so for a minute I fell silent, my eyes free of tears, but there was still a twisting in my stomach. When I did try to speak, my throat was dry and it was very much an effort to respond. "I'm sorry. I-i wanted to tell you."

I couldn't see his face, but I heard the splutters as his jaw fell open, and he desperately tried to throw together a sentence.

The Joker chuckled darkly. "I'd think about your next words if I were you."

My lip curled. "Leave him alone, Dad, he really didn't know. You should be angry at me - I'm the one that went behind your back!" My purple eyes were wide and pleading, which usually worked in my favour, but it certainly didn't today.

"Marceline." he hissed, grabbing my hair and jerking my head at an uncomfortable angle. "I'll be on to you next, don't think just because I'm tormenting your boy toy, that you're going to get off Scot free."

I didn't reply, just narrowed my eyes, and he released my hair. My head lolled back to its natural position.

"Joker, listen, I really care about your daughter, and I haven't taken advantage of her. I've treated her nothing if not like a lady." Victor spoke, his voice a little shaky.

The other man tsked. "I don't think that's true. All you seemed to have been doing is toying with her." He retrieved a knife from his pocket and I heard the familiar click as the blade flicked out.

Victor eyed it cautiously. "Not to be cheesy, but I adore her. The only toying that took place was when she wanted it, sir." His voice sounded calmer now that there was a weapon on show, and I could only relate it to two lions carefully skulking around each other, ready to retaliate if the other pounced.

The Joker sat up, and gave a long, deep chuckle. "Is that so?" he started, his voice very dangerous, before there was a quick movement, and he stabbed the knife right into Victor's left hand.

The latter screeched in pain, and threw back a slurry of swearwords, some not even in English.

I ground my teeth. "Dad, why don't you come and stab me, if you're so big and powerful, huh? You wanna teach him a lesson, but I sure as hell need one, because if I get out of this chair I swear to you that I'll fucking kill you!" I snapped, flailing about as much as I could.

He hardly paid any attention to me, keeping it fixed on Victor as he twisted the knife in his hand. The screaming seemed to dull down, as the younger man became more accustomed to the pain, and now only resorted to heavy, wild breathing. Victor gave a grin, his imperfect teeth bared. "Is that it? I really expected more from the worst criminal Gotham has to offer." he breathed, smirking.

The other man's face tensed, and he stood up straight, before slamming Victor's head into the chair, hard. He then removed the knife and plunged it into his thigh.

Victor gave noises of discomfort, but soon returned to his smile. "Never go for the head - it makes all the pain after it seem so... insignificant." he joked, raising his brow. "Listen buddy, I screwed your little girl, why don't we get straight to business?"

The Joker gave a long laugh, and nodded. "You're right, maybe we should get down to business." he replied, turning away to face two burley goons. "Boys, take Marceline back to her bedroom and lock the door, would you? We need to have an all-guys sort of discussion."

My eyes widened, and the two commanded men came forth, quickly cutting the ropes tying me to the chair, however this still left my hands and my feet bound. One threw me over his shoulder, and though I protested, I felt weak, and I definitely wasn't the one in power here. I gazed back at Victor, who simply gave me a grin.

"I'll see you soon, doll." he called after me, and though a gave him a happy smile in return, I wasn't quite sure I believed him. Maybe this would be the last I ever saw of Victor Yaworsky, hitman extraordinaire.

I was carried back to my room, the goon carrying me walking in front, and the second walking behind, flashing his assault rifle just in case I got any ideas. Heh, maybe they'd heard what I did to Jackie, the henchmen that I'd strangled and shot to death during one of my psychotic episodes. That was a piece of cake.

With no care, I was dumped on my bedroom floor with a thud, and I cringed at the impact. They turned on their heels immediately, and slammed the door closed behind them, before I leapt up and threw my weight against the door. They'd drugged me while I was unconscious, I was sure, as my pounding on the door felt much lighter than usual, and much more pitiful.

A sob escaped my lips, and I collapsed with my back against the door, my crying echoing around the halls.

-

The next month was like a living nightmare.

I spent the whole of March locked in my room like a prisoner, my eyes constantly glossing over the pretty purple walls and stuffed toys. It didn't have bland padded walls and bars on the door, but it sure felt like a cell.

Living for weeks without personal contact was the hardest part for me, as they didn't even open the door to feed me anymore, after I'd tried to escape. Now they just passed the food on a tray under the door. Heh, I called it food, but it was just a mushy overcooked mess that had kept me alive this long.

Like what I imagined prison food was.

The henchman that fed me came by three times a day, always dead on the hour. I knew because I would stare up at my Hello Kitty analog clock, only breaking away when I heard those two firm knocks as he rapped on the solid door. I'd tried breaking it down, but it was if it had been designed to keep someone trapped in that room. I wonder if my dad had plotted it that way from the beginning.

Speaking of my father, I actually hadn't seen him in weeks. He'd stopped by the same day as I had been locked in here, to inform me that this was my punishment for misbehaving, and I wouldn't be getting out of here anytime soon. I'd begged him to stay but he'd left with a nonchalant chuckle.

Over the weeks following that, my mind had produced several people for me to talk to and stop myself going completely insane, however he wasn't one of them.

Today's special was oddly enough Emily Gordon. She sat opposite me on my plush double bed, playing with her long blonde hair, and acting rather airheaded.

"You have a nice place here, Daisy, thanks for inviting me over for a slumber party!" she giggled, extending a slim, tanned arm to play with my white hair. It was unkempt and now touched the bottom of my shoulder blades; I watched as it moved in her gentle hands.

"I preferred having Violet like I did yesterday." I murmured in reply, resting my head on my fist.

Emily laughed. "Well she's in your head, just tell her to get out here. Then we can paint nails and stuff." she responded, calmly.

I sighed. "I don't know how, for some reason might you know? You are me, after all."

Her smile flickered. "I would tell you, but you did use to me and steal information from my dad right under my nose."

I hmphed. "Ah yeah, sorry, I forgot about that. Forgive and forget like friends?"

Her face hardened. "Eat shit."

I pursed my mouth. "Well then." I sighed and turned away, staring at the lavender wall. I'd made a tally on the bottom, keeping tracking of the day and just how long I'd been in here. So far it was thirty-five days. If I got to forty, I could make a joke about forty days and forty nights, though I didn't want to press my luck. I had been keeping up my athletics but I was starting to look a bit scrawny.

Everything about me felt wrong, and I was sure it wasn't hormonal. I was weak mentally and physically, and when I looked in the mirror, it wasn't me that looked back. Especially with the constant voices in my head, I felt like I'd had a consciousness transplant.

"He's coming." one of the plethora of voices whispered, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight.

I felt a prickling down my spine, at a speed much faster than the footsteps I heard approaching my door, and I sat crosslegged on my bed, calm albeit not collected. Emily was nowhere to be seen, heh, lucky her.

The door was unlocked, and it slowly opened to reveal the Joker stood there in his signature suit, sans his purple blazer. His face was emotionless, just like mine, and he stopped just at the foot of my bed, not saying anything. I was aware that I looked something of a mess, and he studied this with what I hoped was concern and not delight.

"How are you holding up, kiddo?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

My lip wobbled slightly. "I wanna leave my room. I think I've gone mad." I responded, lightly.

He raised an eyebrow. "I see." he replied, and I noticed the way he hadn't seemed to have given an apology for putting me in this position in the first place. "Maybe it wasn't the best idea to come see you today, I should just go..." he started, turning on his heel, about to leave.

My eyes widened and I pounced onto the end of my bed. "Wait! Please, let me go. I'll do anything!" I pleaded, exhaling lightly as I saw him stop in his tracks.

He turned back to me. "Anything?"

"Anything."

A grin lit up his face. "Well, as it happens, I was planning a heist for tomorrow, as it will be April 1st." He approached me, dangerously. "I want you to help me on it, and then afterwards I'll let you go and make your own way in the world."

I quickly nodded. "Of course, I'd be glad to help out." That was an utter lie, but I had to turn on the sugar if I wanted to get out of here. I would be out of this damn room, and feeling the air on my face.

He patted my head, which I flinched at. "Good girl, I'll have Ronald get you your costume to you tomorrow."

"Costume?"

"Ah yes, a surprise. It's something I came up with myself." He gave me another smile, before stepping away from me. "Now get some beauty sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, dad, I love you!" I called after him, as he left and locked the door once again. Tomorrow I would be home free, and I'd never have to see that twisted man ever again.