Chapter Three: Loosen Up

The Joker inhaled deeply, as if savoring his returned ability to do so. Still laying on the table, he craned his neck, trailing his eyes down to the tubing coming out of his chest and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He licked his lips and stated, "Now I've seen a lot of things, don't get me wrong, doc. But I've never seen that." He pointed to the tubing. "You know how to inflic-t some paain," he said.

Nora felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Why am I blushing? Is he impressed? She wasn't sure how to respond to that. Joker had a knack for locking her up with his words.

"Um, thank you," she replied, staring at the floor. World's biggest idiot award goes to Nora Hawthorne.

The Joker responded with a barking laugh, startling Nora. "Aren't you an interesting one, doll?" he said, after recovering from his hearty chuckle that ended with a deep cough and a pained growl.

Again, she was unsure of how to respond to that. With the rush of excitement wearing off, Nora nearly forgot about the glass still in Joker's side, the cause of this whole mess. She snapped her head up. "We still need to get the glass out. And, um, you probably shouldn't move too much, there isn't anything holding the catheter in place," she cautiously told the Joker.

"Whatever you say, doc," he said, laying his head back down.

Nora was puzzled. She wasn't expecting him to be so… cooperative. Especially after she just essentially stabbed him in the chest. Wasn't he supposed to leap off the table and strangle her?

"Uh, o-ok. Well, this is gonna hurt again," she said, putting a surgery mask over her face and preparing to change her gloves.

"Wouldn't want to make things too eeaasy," Joker growled, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. She could feel his dark gaze on her, giving her goose bumps. This made Nora anxious. Her hands started to shake as she set up her tools on the instrument stand. "You look nervous. Do I make you nervous? Hm?" he asked, softening his voice with sarcastic concern.

Nora couldn't stop herself. "Yes." She responded without moving her eyes from the stand in front of her.

Joker propped himself up on his elbows. "Look at me." Her eyes widened but remained fixed downward. She felt like she was going to vomit. "Hey. Look. At. ME!" he shouted. Nora's gaze flew upward and she whisked her head around, looking him in the face. His chin was tilted down and eyes rolled upward at her.

"No need to be nervous, doll," Joker said. His expression quickly morphed into a smile and he clicked his tongue against his teeth before laying back down. Nora just stared at him, mouth open. His rapid change in behavior was enough to give her whiplash. She blinked her eyes a few times and cautiously got back to her task. Ok, that was more like what I was expecting.

"Just don't get too handsy, doc."

Nora didn't know her face could turn such a shade of red and her cheeks burned hot. Again with the blushing. She swallowed loudly and changed her gloves.

Moving to stand beside Joker she asked, "Are you ok if I, um…" She stammered as she looked down at his chest. In her hurry to release the air from his torso, she hadn't allowed herself to comprehend what was happening. Suddenly, looking down at the infamous Joker, his upper body exposed, laying on the surgery table in her clinic made her feel like she was going to pass out. She started to quietly hyperventilate.

"Noraaaaa," Joker sang. The sound of her name brought her crashing back down to earth and she looked at him.

"H-How do you know my name?" she almost whispered.

Joker smirked and said, "Relax, doc. Your little name is righ-t there. So serious, aren't ya?" he giggled, pointing at her scrub top.

Nora looked down at the white embroidered letters below her right collar bone. 'Dr. Nora Hawthorne.' Jesus fucking Christ, I'm so stupid. She sighed and dropped her head back toward the ceiling, her eyes closed for a moment.

After darting his tongue out over his scars, Joker said, "You need to loosen up, toots. I'm not gonna hurt ya." Oddly enough, this actually made Nora feel a bit better. That didn't last long, though. What would stop him from killing her once she fixes the wound? The Joker has already proven how unpredictable he can be. But she needed to know.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me after I stitch you up?" she asked.

He leaned toward her slightly and locked eyes with her. "I'm a man of my worrrd," he said, licking his lips. What could she do? He would probably kill her if she didn't fix the wound at this point. She reached for a sterilized metal bowl and gauze squares she had unwrapped along with a bottle of saline. After pulling off the cap, she poured the clear liquid into the bowl. I'll fix him, but I'm not gonna 'loosen up.'

As soon as she finished cleaning the surrounding skin and positioning blue surgical towels around it to make a sterile field, she turned to the Joker and spoke. "After I pull out the glass, more air is going to get into your chest, maybe a lot at once. So, when it does, you'll need to draw it out while I stitch up the hole. I won't know how much damage there is until the glass is out."

His eyes lit up and a sly grin formed on his face. "Ohhh now we're talkin'," he growled and picked up the syringe. He handled it in a remarkably delicate manner. Nora thought he'd be like a bull in a china shop, chaotic and destructive. But instead he held the device with the touch of an artist or a musician, controlled and deliberate.

She pointed to the valve connecting the tubing and the large syringe. "That is a three way stop cock, the little lever controls the valve. It closes communication between the port its turned to and the others, leaving the remaining two open to each other." Joker carefully held it up to the light as she spoke. "So, turn it toward the empty port to pull out air from your chest, then turn it toward the tubing to push the air out into the room once the syringe is full. Turn it back to the empty port to pull more air out, and so on. Stop trying to pull out air if you feel resistance. And don't turn it toward the syringe, that'll just let air into your chest."

Joker chuckled. "It does ex-act-ly what it's supposed to. I like that," he said as he inspected the gadget and turned the lever between the port and tubing a few times.

Nora smiled. It always felt good to teach someone something. Even the Joker, of all people.

She turned on the bright surgical lights and prepared a square of gauze in her hand. "This is going to be painful. Are you ready?" she asked him.

He leaned over and plucked a tongue depressor from a jar on a nearby cart and bit down on it. "Do it," he muttered from around the flat stick.

Nora grabbed hold of the glass with the gauze and gently pulled. Joker roared in agony and his muscles tensed, clenching down on the wood in his mouth. She continued to put steady traction on the shard and soon had the glass free from his flesh. Blood erupted from the wound, dripping down his side. After throwing the glass onto the table, she pushed a stack of gauze against the bleeding tissue and held it there. The Joker's groans started to die down and his panting slowed.

Nora shifted her eyes to the glass shard she had pulled from the Joker's body on the table. It was about two inches wide, a couple of millimeters thick, and maybe five inches long. Only a quarter inch of that length had made it through the muscle layer and into the Joker's chest, dead center between his fifth and sixth ribs. It probably didn't damage his lung. Wow, that's lucky. Now she had to stitch up the wound.

"Ok, you're doing great. Now I'm going to remove the gauze and inject some numbing agent into the muscle before I close you up, it will sting. With the wound uncovered for a while, enough air will get in that you'll probably start to have trouble breathing so use the syringe when you do."

"He he ha ha! Oh doc, you really are ruthless," Joker giggled.

Nora chuckled a little behind her mask. An unfortunate part of practicing medicine is it sometimes involves causing pain. She reached for a syringe of lidocaine with a small needle and made eye contact with Joker to tell him to get ready.

In one swift motion, she removed the gauze and pierced the needle into the red tissue. Joker hissed through his teeth as she infused a small amount of the local anesthetic then proceeded to repeat this around the edges of the wound. By the time she was finished seconds later, the Joker was pounding his fist on the table, his growls muffled by the tongue depressor he had put back in his mouth to bite down on. Nora paused to give him a break.

After a moment she spoke quietly, "I'm gonna clean it now." The cool saline-soaked gauze gently passed over the narrow slit in Joker's side, wiping away the blood as Nora had a close look. The cut's edges were smooth from the sharpness of the glass and not jagged, it should heal up fine. She picked up the needle drivers and readied the suture needle in its jaws. Air was freely flowing in and out of the wound, moving the edges in the breeze it created.

She took a pair of forceps in her other hand and touched it to the muscle to take hold of the edge. "Can you feel that?" she asked.

Joker replied, "Feel what?"

Nora smirked and started suturing the wound. She sewed with a steady hand, carefully avoiding the blood vessels and nerves running along the bottom edge of his rib. As the needle and violet colored suture passed through the flesh over and over to form a tight seal, the gap in the intercostal muscles grew smaller. Nora was so concentrated on her work, she hadn't noticed that the Joker had propped his head up on his raised arm and was watching her. Her head fixed forward, still facing the wound, she moved her eyes left once she sensed his gaze. He had a smirk on his scarred lips as he observed. He looked amused.

"Um. You doing ok?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and said, "Ohhh I'm just peachy, doll." Nora's heart fluttered.

His staring was incredibly distracting but she couldn't tell him that. She looked away and kept going, feeling his eyes on her as she tried to concentrate. At this point the smaller wound wasn't letting much air back out as Joker breathed and it accumulated, much faster this time without the glass reducing the amount of air moving in. His breathing turned into short, breathless panting once again.

"Um, Joker. Use the syringe," Nora said, not taking her eyes off of her work. Joker looked at the device in his hand and licked his lips. She could sense something, possibly hesitation. Maybe he's nervous. She waited for him to use it. Before she spoke to ask if he was ok, Joker turned the small lever toward the empty port and pulled on the plunger. He grimaced as air filled the syringe. He turned the lever to the tubing and pushed the air out. He kept going, grunting as he pulled and Nora continued suturing.

She finished closing his muscles and tied off the line of suture. Then she looked to the Joker, he was concentrated on removing the air from his chest, his eyes narrowed as he huffed. She lingered a moment until he opened his mouth wide to gasp loudly, his lung filling back up. He put the syringe down and laid his head back to catch his breath.

"You, uh, done torturing me yet, doc?" Joker asked, looking up at the ceiling.

Nora's deep rooted sarcasm speaks before she can think sometimes and she responded, "No."

This fortunately made Joker laugh heartily before he said, "Well then, by all means, uh proceeed," his tone of voice high and jovial. He propped himself up on his elbows.

Glad she didn't seem to be on thin ice after her last comment, she cautiously replied, "Now that the muscle layer is closed, you shouldn't get any more air in your chest but keep the syringe ready just in case. I need to suture your skin and I can't numb it because I don't want to damage blood supply, there are fewer vessels than in the muscle. So, um, its gonna hurt again." She looked to Joker, worried what his response to her hurting him again was going to be.

"Smart one, aren't ya?" he replied. Her eyes went wide. What? Was that a compliment?

She blinked and stared at him. This whole situation was just so strange. Nora just saved the life of Gotham's most notorious criminal, she was sitting by his side while he laid on a metal table nearly half naked, and now he was paying her a compliment. Well, she thought he might have.

"Th-Thank you," she stammered.

Joker nodded. "Mmmmhm," he hummed, without breaking eye contact and remaining straight-faced. Nora hoped her mask was hiding the flush forming over her cheeks for the third time that evening. She tried to push through it. Alright, focus. Skin closure. Now that the first layer of tissue was closed, it needed to be cleaned again. She reached for the bowl of saline and filled a syringe with a curved tip. Using her other hand to block the splashing, she sprayed a strong jet of the solution at the wound to flush out any debris. After repeating this a couple more times, she looked up to see if the Joker was watching her, indeed he was. They remained silent as she moved on to securing a fresh needle and suture in her needle drivers. She put her hand flat on his chest in preparation for suturing the skin with the other. His skin was so warm. Blood rushed to Nora's ears and her pulse sped up. His chest steadily rose and fell with each breath as he watched her. She was stuck and couldn't move, her hands were burning. Seeing him like this just made him so human. She didn't want to see him that way. She wanted to see him as a monster, like everyone else. But now she couldn't. The Joker was a human who bled, breathed, twitched. She just didn't know what it was inside him that made him able to do all of the merciless things he had done.

Her trance was broken by Joker clearing his throat. She turned to look at him. He raised his brow and tilted his head to the side. "Oh, shit. I-I'm sorry," she murmured and quickly averted her gaze. A vertical mattress pattern ought to do it. She took a deep breath and stuck the needle into his skin. He flinched and grunted.

She continued her suturing. Then, Joker broke the thick silence hanging over them. "So, Noraaaa. What's an inteli-gent doc like you doing working in a place like this? Hm?" he asked, flinching slightly with each pass of the needle through his skin.

Nora gulped. Small talk? Really? Just don't piss him off. She inhaled and replied, "Well, I owe a lot of money for my schooling… and there haven't been a lot of clinics hiring for a while now."

He tilted his head forward as he spoke, "Ahh, likely cause of little old me causing a, uh, fuss."

She slowly turned her head to look at him. "Um, maybe." What happened to not pissing him off?

"Well, my dear doctor, I think you deserve better," he said.

Nora wasn't sure how much more of these mind games she could take. "W-What?" she nervously asked.

Joker giggled and said, "Don't you worry doc, you'll see."

Oh shit, oh fuck, I knew this was a bad idea. Didn't exactly have a choice though, did I? As she thought about it, she wasn't sure whether to be worried or not. She did save his life, after all. Would he do something horrible to her after that? He might. But he might not.

"Can you tell me now?" she asked.

He let out a wheezy laugh and replied, "Oh no no no, that would ruin the surprise-ah."

She shuttered quietly and sighed, taking off her mask and gloves, then removing the blue towels. She was finished suturing his skin. She decided it wasn't worth panicking now. What's done is done, there really wasn't anything she could do to change that. She treated the Joker's wound as best she could and just had to hope he hadn't decided to kill her over it for some reason. She wasn't going to give him one. Kill them with kindness, is that what they say?

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Tip top, doc," he replied. His respirations appeared normal. He looked down at the stitches in his skin. "Ahh, be-au-tiful job, doll!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the sides.

Her heart fluttered again. This whirlwind of emotions was really wearing on her.

"Good, um, we can pull out the catheter then," Nora said nervously. She stepped toward him, her heart pounding in her ears. He was resting flat on his back again with his hands tucked under his head, like he was lounging by the pool on a sunny day. He grinned at her. Dammit, he isn't supposed to be funny. She picked up some gauze squares, her hand shaking. These waves of anxiety just kept washing over her without warning. She bit her tongue in an effort to clear her head, focus on something else. She knew Joker could sense her unease, she just hoped he wasn't going to use it to his advantage. She got closer. Then, Joker suddenly yelled, "BOO!"

She gasped and jumped back. Hysterical laughter erupted from the Joker as he rolled onto his side, wincing in pain from the howling shaking his chest. Once his cackling died down, he wiped a tear from his eye and said, "Didn't I tell ya to loosen up, doc?"

Nora was furious. Loosen up? Again? That's easy for you to say, clown. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She had to regain her composure. Anger toward the Joker would not be met with anything good. Once her pulse slowed, she opened her eyes to see the Joker, now sitting up and facing her. He grabbed the back of her neck, bringing his nose inches from hers. She could smell his strangely minty breath.

"Loosen. Up." The Joker's voice had become deep. "I don't want to tell you again, doc."

Nora felt bile rising in her throat and she spat out, "Ok! Ok. I'm loose. I'm loose."

"Goooood," he purred.

Get it together Hawthorne. She took another deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. The smell of mint and gun powder flooded her nose. Such a peculiar smell. Somehow, she was successful in calming herself down. She needed to stop letting her nerves get the best of her. He clearly didn't like that.

Joker sat on the edge of the table and stared at her as she dropped her gaze down to his chest. His eyes followed her hand to the place where the tubing was coming out. With one hand she held the gauze up to it as the other pulled the tubing, the inch and-a-half long catheter coming with it. She tossed it behind her then swiftly moved the gauze over the spot and held pressure, her other hand now on his shoulder to brace herself as she pushed.

Nora kept her head down, looking at her hand as she pressed on the Joker's chest. Then, her eyes started to wander. She noticed the lean muscle making up his upper body. His arms looked solid. She could feel the strength beneath her hand on his shoulder. Her gaze then traveled up his neck, then to his chin, and stopped at his scars. They were so deep and rough. Whatever made them was probably dull and the blood loss had to have been significant. They're so violent. She wondered if he had made them himself. But is it physically possible for someone to do that to themselves without stopping? She couldn't fathom the pain he must have been in.

"Wanna know how I got 'em?" She saw his lips move as he spoke and darted her eyes up to meet his. They were brown. She slowly nodded her head.

Joker kept his eyes on hers as he spoke. "When I was nineteen I got involved in a gang. We frequented underground casinos to count cards, blackjack. We got reeaal good at it. We made tons of cash. This did not go unnoticed and the owners didn't like it. Not at aalllll. One night, at a place we'd been before, the owner was informed that the punks who count cards had arrived. He decided to welcome us with a brutal beating from his goons before he showed up. He looked at me and he laughed. He held a knife in his hand and he said, 'Ya know kid, you really ought to smile more. You're a rich man, after all.' Next thing I knew, I was being held down with the blade in my mouth before he tooorrre it open."

Nora blinked. "Is that true?" she asked.

"What do you think, doll?" he said, leaning in even closer.

She lowered the gauze in her hand from his chest. "I-I don't know," she said. Probably not.

"Believe it or, uh, don't, toots. That's for you to decide," he said before flicking his tongue out over his scars.

He remained sitting on the surgical table, his shirt and waistcoat open, tie flung to the side. The room was a mess. Blood ran down the side of the table. Used gauze and gloved were strewn across the floor. Needles, suture, syringes, and tools littered the table. Nora blew a puff of air out of her cheeks and rubbed her forehead before slumping onto the stool. She was beyond exhausted.

Joker clapped his hands together and hopped to his feet, stirring Nora from her daze with a jolt. "Job well done, doc," he said, picking up the glass that used to be between his ribs and looking it over. He handed it to her, "A souvenir, hm?" She stared at it as the Joker began buttoning his shirt.

"Thanks," she said, standing up to face him. "You seem to be breathing fine now so I don't think it nicked your lung. It was also a pretty clean wound and I flushed it well so I don't think it'll get infected but watch it for swelling. Also the stitches in your skin should come out in ten days," she told him, her eyes half lidded with drowsiness.

"Oh I'll be back for a follow up, doll," the Joker said, flashing her a smile. Nora didn't have the energy to be surprised anymore. Nothing she could say would change his mind anyway. She just hoped that wasn't a threat but she was too tired to tell.

She quietly replied, "O-Ok, I suppose I'll be expecting you."

He smiled.

Nora left the bright room, heading back to the treatment area with Joker close behind. Before reaching the table where his purple coat was waiting, they came to an abrupt halt. Joker swung his arm around her, pulling her back to his chest, his knife back in his hand. Her heart rate shot up and she felt the blade pressed gently against her throat.

He brought his face next to hers. "It goes without saying, doc, that this little inci-dent stays between usss," he growled in her ear.

"I-I won't tell anyone. I promise," she said slowly, trying to keep herself calm.

Joker suddenly released her, then turned her around by her shoulders to face him. "Ah, good," he said tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. Nora let out the breath she was holding as Joker stepped away from her to retrieve his coat. After putting it on, he headed for the door that lead out to the dark alley.

Nora spoke up before he turned the handle, "Joker?"

"Hmmm?" he hummed.

"Get some rest," she said, arms at her sides.

"You too, doc," he said before turning the handle and disappearing into the darkness.

Nora's head was spinning, trying to understand everything that happened. Her thoughts swirled around, bits and pieces flashing into focus. She couldn't make any sense out of it and it was making her dizzy. She needed sleep and there was no way she was going to be able to get home like this. Tomorrow was Sunday, the clinic would be closed for the day. She rolled the spare overnight cot out from its corner and opened it flat in the treatment room. Before kicking off her shoes, she switched off the lights, casting the room in a dim red glow from the exit sign overhead. Sleep carried her off as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Song for this chapter: Drumming Song by Florence + The Machine