Chapter 5: Bloodstained Nightmares

So like I said, we will begin to delve into the Jonathon/Bagheera dynamic in this story and here is the chapter that it starts in. I hope you like it. It was so hard to figure out a way to best begin it, but I finally settled on a way to begin the backstory.

And also, there's a cliffhanger and you guys are going to hate me!

Lightning lit up the sky as Bagheera lay asleep in the king size bed. She was alone in the darkness of the room that she shared with William Barba. She snored ever so lightly as her lids moved as she dreamed of a peaceful, quiet life where her parents had never been murdered by a masked man. The blankets hugged her in a warm embrace as the cool air from the open window danced around her sleeping form.

Thunder struck in the distance with the strength of a cannon ball hitting the side of her home. Bagheera jerked out of her sleep and looked around the silent, dark room as the sudden fear quickly escaped her as lightning lit up the room.

"Will," she asked and reached for his place beside her, but there was no warm body that lay in peaceful sleep beside her. Her brows furrowed in confusion. She looked around the dark room for any sign of his presence in their shared home.

"William," she called out, but still there was no answer.

"Shit," Bagheera whispered to herself as she pulled herself from the bed. The long white satin of her gown fell to its full length at her ankles as she stood up. She looked like the poster girl for a woman being seduced by a vampire as she stood alone with the storm raging on outside the single window of the bedroom. The sound off far off classical music filled the dark house. Lightning and thunder struck outside the windows of the house at the same time in an unnatural way.

"Will," she called out once again as she made her way down the stairs. She felt a strange sort of uneasiness come over her as her world seemed to take on a sepia like tint. Her world soon felt surreal as her bare feet walked on their own accord towards the dining room where the classical piano tones originated.

"Oh my God," she stopped in her place at the door way as she looked to see Jonathon sitting at the set table. French food, white wine, and long white candle sticks were lit upon the dining table. Jonathon Crane sat tied to the chair with his head lulled to the side. Jonathon's mask was placed over his head, but she could see blood seeping through the cheap, old potato sack.

"Jonathon," Bagheera whispered in fearful concern as she quickly made her way towards her cousin. Her hands shook like brittle leaves as she ripped the mask off of his head.

"Oh my God," she whispered again as she looked at the bloody and beaten face of her cousin. She took in the bruises that someone had given him, his lips were busted, blood dripped in a simple stream from his nose and lips, and his left eye was bloody as the beginning of hyphema began to set in. Her hand moved to touch his bloodstained hair in an almost motherly fashion as she knelt down beside him.

"What happened," she whispered as she took in his beaten face.

He didn't answer.

"Isn't it obvious Baggy," Bagheera heard the familiar voice of the Joker enter her ear. She turned quickly to see the Joker standing at the head of the table with an empty wine glass in his gloved hand. He stood there in full make up and his purple suit. His dark eyes seemed to peer into her soul. Bagheera shook her head as she glared at him. The only noise that moved between the small trio was the wheezy sounds that escaped from Jonathon's chest as he tried to breath.

"No," she answered as she stood from her kneeling position beside her cousin, she looked at the clown that stood in her lover's place at the head of the table, "What's so obvious? Where is my husband?"

The word that she had used for William Barba had slipped from her mouth as if it were a natural thing. She shook her head at the clown.

"What have you done," she asked solemnly, "Is he dead?"

"Me," the Joker asked as if he were an innocent child and pointed at himself, he licked at his painted lips, "I haven't touched a hair on his head. Who says he's not the bad guy? Huh," he looked into her eyes and nodded his head, "Hmm? He's not here. Your cousin is here and Barbarella is uh," he looked around the small room, "missing in action."

"Where is he," Bagheera cried as anger and fear bubbled inside of her as her legs moved forward in a violent rage, "WHERE IS HE?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"

She crossed the distance between them. Her hips banged into the side of the chairs as she rushed towards him in a rage. Her hands, on their own accord, grabbed for a forgotten fork at the side of an empty plate. She placed it against his throat as she glared into his darkened eyes. The black paint reflected the light between them. There was very little space between the two as she threateningly held the eating utensil just above his carotid artery.

"Now," she whispered so lowly that only the two of them could hear, "where is he?"

The Joker smiled at her and allowed his eyes to slowly look down at her hand. The ring upon her finger glittered in the light.

"He left you," he informed her casually and licked his lips.

"What?"

"Your lil love found out about you and I," he said in a dangerous, low tone as he quickly ripped the fork out of her hand and threw it into the corner away from her reach. His gloved hand fell from her fingers and grasped tightly upon her thin wrist.

"No," she said simply as her eyes stayed on his. She felt his hand pulling her closer towards him, closing the space between them. Disgust and the tiniest hint of lust rippled through her as she felt her chest meet with his. The air around her seemed to escape as he glared down at her.

The detective and the criminal were only mere inches from a lover's embrace. She kept silent as he pushed her backwards and into the table. Bagheera's thighs bumped into the sides and her hands moved behind her to steady herself against the wooden length of the table. The Joker's hands were upon her shoulders as he carefully and slowly, almost unbearably slow, pushed her backwards upon the table. The dishes on the table seemed to disappear from the table as her back arched against the wood as the Joker shifted his weight to look over her as she lay beneath him upon the wooden table.

"I'm dreaming," she whispered as a tear fell from her eyes, she looked away from the clown and into the darkness, "It's just a dream."

Bagheera felt his knee push her legs apart as his free hand moved down the length of her torso. She sighed deeply as a shiver betrayed the strange, lustful feelings that radiated through her body when he felt his gloved fingers pulling up the satin fabric of her gown.

"He doesn't really love ya Bags," the Joker informed her, "Barbie doesn't see," he lifted his hand up and touched her face, his gloved fingers bit into her skin and left small red marks as he looked into her blue eyes, "the little scars that you have on the uh inside. The ones that make you beaut-uh-ful," he smiled at her and licked his lips once again as he took in the soft skin that made up her unmarked face, "I can see it though," his voice took on a dark, almost demonic tone in her mind as he continued, "All you have to do is surrender."

She closed her eyes as she felt his weight shift on top of her. Her hands moved on their own accord as they found the lapels of his jacket and slowly researched the folds of the fabric to find the perfect and quickest way to disrobe him. The smell of gun powder rippled through the air that surrounded them. She couldn't take a calming breath as she felt his scarred, painted lips linger just above hers. Her lips quivered as she lay beneath the murderous clown. All the thoughts of his past crimes did not escape her; they stayed in her mind as she felt her heart beating like a tom tom in her chest. The space between her pink lips and his red lips lingered unbearably close. It had been like time had frozen them in that spot.

"I love him," Bagheera whispered as she opened her eyes and pulled away from the encroaching lips. Her blue eyes widened in fear as she choked on the panic that erupted through her as she looked up to the angry, bright blue eyes of the man that now lay atop her. Her heart seemed to want to bust out of her chest as she took in the angered glaze that took over her cousin's once handsome features.

"Fu-" a hard squeeze took over her throat and she felt as if her wind pipe was about to be crushed by the hard grip that was no wrapped around her neck.

Her hands instinctively jerked towards the man's hands that choked her. Her fingernails bit into his flesh that seemed to radiate the fire of his rage as her legs slightly wrapped around his own in an attempt to pull herself away from her in the same way that she had done many times before in their youth.

Bagheera forced herself to pull a hand away from his constrictor like grip on her neck. She tried to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Time felt like it was moving at a snail's pace as she reached for him. Thoughts of their abusive moments moved through her mind as she felt her mind becoming foggy. Those abusive moments changed to something altogether different, memories that made them different to other "normal" cousins. It was the only thing that she knew could tame the monster inside the man.

"Jonathon," she gasped as she looked up at him with tear filled eyes, fear laced her voice, "I'm terrified," she took a deep breath as the grip on her throat subsided for only a moment, "I'm not gonna leave ya, Johnny."

Bagheera felt a scream escape her as her cousin allowed the cloud of his fear toxin mist her face. He'd never used it on her before and the fear of the unknown entered her body. She had never been afraid of anything. The surrealism of the room faded away as a cold breath washed over her.

Her head lulled to the side while the drug began its quick attack on her mind as her cousin's soft, yet indifferent voice whispered through the fog, "You'll cry and you'll scream," she felt his long fingers caress her unscarred face in the same exact location that the Joker had touched her, "and then you'll know that there is nothing to fear but fear itself."

Bagheera's eyes bolted open as she looked around the darkness of her shared bedroom. Her heart beat as if she had just fought off her cousin like in the old days of their youth. The blanket blocked her view and she quickly threw it off of her face. The cool air rushed over her body as she looked around the darkness of their room. She turned to look at Will's side and sighed in relief as she took in his form. He smiled softly at her as he took in her horrible bedhead and sleep riddled eyes. His beautiful hazel eyes calmed her beating heart and she gave him a thankful smile as she moved towards him to pull in his warmth in the cold morning.

"What were you dreaming about," he asked as he allowed her to fall into his arms. His thumb absently drew circles upon her upper arm as he held her.

"How'd you-"

He chuckled softly at her and replied simply, "I've slept beside you for almost two years remember? I helped you with all of…"

She nodded as she recalled the many nights that she had awoken from a horrible nightmare about the Joker and he had been there to comfort her in the middle of the night. She really was thankful for him. She knew if something were to ever happen to him that she could deal with it, but she didn't want anything to ever happen to him. He was her bedrock in a world where everyone else was sand and she was the one that occasionally needed someone to stabilize her. William Barba was her bedrock.

"It was about Jonathon," she informed him as she held him close and thought back over the horrible nightmare, "He gave me his fear toxin," she shook her head and closed her eyes as she thought of the events that had happened between her and the Joker, "it was the first time the Joker hadn't been in it."

"Well," Barba whispered in reassurance, "That's a good step in the right direction."

"Do you have a case today," Bagheera asked in a successful attempt to change the subject.

"We start on the Isley trial today," he informed his future wife to be as he looked over to the alarm clock on the coffee table that read 7 AM, "but I don't have to leave until noon. We could talk about our future."

"Will," Bagheera whispered as she smiled softly at the intimacy between the two of them, her mind rippled back to where she had been the night before, "I went to the doctor last night after work."

Barba looked over her with a slight confusion and worry in his hazel eyes.

"I was going to tell you," she informed her lover, "but I was so exhausted last night. I had blood work drawn, ya know with all my dizzy spells I've been having here lately."

"And," he asked as his fingers absently played with her hair.

"They said they want to re-take my blood next week," Bagheera said, "They said something irregular showed up in the tests. It could be nothing though."

"You mean like cancer or-"

"No," she answered quickly, "I don't think so. They just want to make sure. Hell," she said with a smile and touched her belly lightly with her fingertips, "it could be I just have a bun in the oven."

...

Bagheera had two places to go before she could go back to the precinct or go back home. The dream that she had that morning was still prevalent in her mind. The fear that the Scarecrow had instilled in her had been too much for her. She had no idea what fear would surface inside of her from the fear toxin. It was the fear of the unknown had put her on edge. She had faced murderers, rapists, psychopaths, and the occasional breast cancer scare, but she never considered herself being afraid of anything in the way that Jonathon Crane wanted her to be afraid. The other part of the dream, the part where she had been dangerously close to crossing a professional line with the Joker, ate at her insides. She felt a sense of disgust and guilt move over her when she thought about having the dream in the bed that she and Barba shared.

The old, rundown apartment building was made from old bricks with gum and mold plastered upon the outside walls. She took a deep breath as she entered the double doors that lead into the hearth of apartment building. A single staircase ran through the middle to the four levels that were present in the building. She had found out where the man lived through the systems at the Gotham Police department. She had snuck away quickly without Mark noticing. She didn't want them to know the two people that she had to visit with.

The man that she was visiting at this location was Phillip Williams, the Arkham Asylum guard that had given the Joker a busted lip and a bruised eye. She smiled as she made her way up to the apartment door that he lived behind.

Bagheera knocked on the door and placed a smile on her face. Her purple silk shirt hung loose on her skin while the hidden gun on her back lightly touched against the white undershirt that she wore under the loose material. Her badge rested upon her belt loop and her hand moved to pull attention to the silver Gotham PD star on her hip. She knocked on the door and waited patiently as she listened to the day time television soap being turned off and the footsteps of the resident coming towards the door.

"Who is it," Phillip asked as he opened the door without checking through the small peep hole. His eyes deadened as he immediately recognized Bagheera's face.

Bagheera eyed the short man that was a little short to be a Storm Trooper. He was in his early twenties and stood with an arrogant stature. His hair was dark and matched the darkness of his newly ironed guard uniform. She knew that she had caught him getting ready for his next shift. The woman at Arkham hadn't led her down the false path in regards to the man's schedule and she was thankful for it.

"Shit," he said under his breath and looked away from her.

"Yes," Bagheera answered, the smile was still on her face as she glared at the abusive guard, "Obviously you know who I am and I have been made well aware of who you are, Mr. Williams. Now it seems," her brows lifted ever so slightly as he allowed his hands to sweep through his thick brown hair, "that we have a mutual," she stopped, "I wouldn't call him a friend, but we have a mutual acquaintance."

"Is that why you came here," the man's voice was arrogant as his chapped lips formed into a toothy grin, "You can't do anything about it, Detective."

"Are you admitting that you beat a patient?"

"He's not a patient," Phillip argued, "He's a psychopath. He's killed people," he leaned forward and looked down upon her, "I don't understand what it is with you gashes and lovin' psychopaths."

The detective glared at him as he reached for her and flipped her hair as he added, "You can't prove anything. The law is on my side. It always has been. No one gives a shit about prisoners."

"Take your hand off of me," she demanded harshly, "Don't make me tell you again."

He didn't listen to her. His fingers absently twirled in the loose strand of hair. Anger bubbled inside of her as he ignored her demand.

Bagheera glared at the man's hand that held a strand of her hair. She jerked his hand from hair and she twisted his wrist behind his back. She swung him backwards and pinned him against the wall.

"You fucking bi-"

Her free hand clutched the back of his neck and slammed his forehead into the wall. She listened to him whimper and satisfaction rushed through her. She had warned him not to touch her, but he hadn't listened. Technicalities were her favorite things to use against shitty little punks that lacked basic manners.

"I think you broke my fuckin' nose," Phillip whined as she held him place.

"Good," Bagheera said simply, "I told you to take your hands off me. You assaulted an officer of the law," she smiled as she leaned into his ear, "Now let's talk about the Joker."

"You crazy bit-"

"You want me to actually break your nose," she hissed in his ear as her hand tightened upon his neck, "Now, I know that you've seen the news. You do realize that when he escapes," she chuckled, "because let's face it there will never be an if, he will escape from that hell hole, he will come after you."

The man nodded at her words.

"Consider this my little word of advice," she whispered into his ear, "Don't fuck with the Joker anymore," she shook her head as her voice dropped into a darker tone that could have been on the same level as disturbing if she had allowed herself to be a villain like Jonathon and the Joker, "because if you do, I won't protect you. You got that Philly?"

"Ye…yeah," he stuttered, "I g-get it."

"Good," she answered in mock kindness, "because if you make me come here again, I won't be as nice to you.I despise men that abuse others."

...

It was two in the afternoon. Arkham Asylum inmates were bustling about doing the same mundane, routine tasks that they had been doing since they were either committed or incarcerated. It was no different for the Joker. The Joke sat in an old chair in his maximum security cell doodling small cartoons of Batman, Gotham City, bombs, Bagheera behind bars, and his pretty little blonde doctor who lay upon his bed as if she were completely comfortable around him.

Harleen Quinzel sat with her eyes cast towards the ceiling of the clown's room. She didn't feel any sense of fear as she lay alone in the room with the mass murdering clown. She had found that she had trusted him somehow. He had gotten into her head.

She had broken the first rule that Dr. Crawford had given her. Don't let the Joker in your head. She had ignored that bit of advice and had let him get to her. She had once been strong willed, but in the course of almost two months he had wiggled his way into her chest and built a fort upon her heart. She wondered how the young detective had faired against him. Crawford had told her that the Joker had gotten into her head. She didn't believe that anything was going on between the two because if anyone were to fall for the Joker in such a way, they would have never shot him in the chest. An almost fatal wound wasn't how you showed someone that you loved them. Her father had taught her that when they had watched Silence of the Lambs for the first time.

She peeked through her blonde bangs and took in the clown as he sat upon her chair and doodled whatever it was on her tablet. He bit at his tongue as he concentrated on his task. Harleen held in the naughty giggle that wished to escape her as she thought about all the things that he could do with that tongue of his. Extreme personalities were her cup of tea, and the Joker had been just the case that she had begged for. At the beginning of their sessions, she had just wanted to use him to further her career, but then something had happened.

The Joker got under her head by leaving little gifts.

The mad clown had been the only one that had given her gifts since the untimely suicide of Guy Kopski, her would be husband. She wondered if the detective that the Joker loved to talk about on occasion would end up in the same position as her. Harleen didn't wish that on anyone. The detective had been caring and nice to her. She had plugged the digits into her Blackberry as soon as she entered the car because she was in danger, but not from the clown.

"So," the Joker announced in an almost purr line tone as he pulled himself away from the doodles to look at the blonde on his bed, "what do you think about the mad man known as the Jokerrr?"

"He's just a poor misunderstood man," Harleen admitted as she twiddled with her manicured nails, "He's actually a tortured soul crying out for love and acceptance."

The Joker rolled his eyes at her words. Bagheera had been straight up with him. She didn't sugar coat him and place him in a category, but Bagheera didn't have a crush on him. He hadn't been able to invade her mind in the ways that he had hoped. Though he did get an 'I trust you' from her and that had been the only moment that he had realized that he had actually gotten under her skin. The little Harley Quinn had fell for him almost immediately, though he knew that part of it had been because of her want for fame and celebrity.

"He's a lost injured child trying to make the world laugh," she continued softly, her legs crossed over each other as she took a deep breath and breathed in the smells of the Joker. She turned onto her belly and looked to her patient with a smile and admitted, "As crazy as it seems," she shrugged her shoulders, readying herself to take the plunge that she had only taken once before, "I have developed feelings for my patient known as the Joker. He got into my head when everyone told me not to let him have free reign. Kinda crazy huh?"

He leaned forward and returned her smile. He popped his lips and licked them as he tried to find some words of encouragement and understanding to the young girl that he had successfully manipulated. He knew he would be out of Arkham in no time and he could take his pound of flesh from Bagheera for the scar on his chest.

"No," he said proudly with a small smile, his eyes sparkled, "Not. At. All."

Harleen smiled with bright blue eyes at his words, "Really?"

"A uh bright young woman like you," the Joker said as he looked at her from under his lashes, his dark eyes successfully hid the darkness inside of him from the woman, "with a man that was too COW-ard-A-LEEE to finish life and marry you caused you to ugh become career oriented," he shrugged his shoulders as he glared at her, he could see the hairs on her flesh standing at attention as he told her things that he shouldn't know, "No. Harley you are NOT," he popped the last word, "crazy," he chuckled, "Believe me, he straightened his jumpsuit, "because I know the crazy ones when I see 'em."

Harleen's brow rose ever so slightly as she took in his description of herself, "How do you know those things about me?"

"You told me," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"No," she answered as she stood from her place upon his bed, "No. No, I didn't. How do you know those private, personal things?"

The Joker laughed wildly at her question. He could hear the hint of slight fear in her voice that she tried so hard to ignore.

"Kid," the Joker announced as he took in the young features of the very young doctor who had worked really hard to get where she was in Arkham, "I got people in the outside world. People that put Arkham sessions on the Internet," she smiled knowingly at her and winked innocently, "I had to know some lil things about my number one doc!"

...

Bagheera smiled to herself at how quickly she was accomplishing her tasks for the day. Everything seemed to go by quicker for her when she was doing things without her partner or without the young woman that had delegated her as her role model. She knew that she needed another mind to help her through cases, but with the people that were involved in these crimes, she knew that she could get things done a lot faster than the others. She knew how to deal with criminals, and her surviving the Joker had solidified her as a force to be reckoned with through the criminal underworld in Gotham City. She had never had to pull a weapon on a sneaky, low level criminal that she knew would help her solve a case. She had only fought with the higher level criminals, the Poison Ivys and the Falcones of the criminal underworld, and ever they would be a lot more careful than they would have been with just the run of the mill law enforcement officer. She had to be thankful for the Joker for that reason only. He had solidified her as a respectable opponent in the criminal underworld.

She walked to the small home on the outskirts of Gotham. She had passed several old trailer homes that kept bulldogs chained to a tree with a simple blue tarp to cover them from the elements. The small hub wasn't actually part of Gotham City, but it was still part of the county that oversaw the city. Tall trees gazed down upon her as she made her way up to the small house in the middle of nowhere. A simple rope hung down from a high tree branch for a make shift swing that belonged to the children of the owners of the small house. Three cats lazily walked away from her and made their way to her car to investigate it. The world was silent in this small place of hardworking men and women.

The Crane farm was only a forty minute drive from where she was and a chill went through her just as the wind blew through the trees. The bustling wind was the only thing that filled the air and a sudden sense of foreboding came over her. The cliché 'it's quiet, too quiet' feeling came over her and her blue eyes quickly scanned her surroundings in an attempt to find anything that may have been out of place.

She continued forward while shaking the foreboding sense away from her shoulders. She was simply stopping by to see an old acquaintance. Her footsteps upon the old weather rotted wooden steps signaled her arrival and she could hear the yelps of small dogs behind the white door.

She slowly reached her hand out to knock on the door. She knocked three times. There was no answer, but she could hear footsteps trying desperately not to be heard.

"Robert Burton," Bagheera announced as she stood completely alone on the porch while the local cats climbed upon her town car, "It's Detective Bagheera Lew-"

Bagheera didn't have a chance to scream or react as the sound of a gun going off erupted from inside the house. Splinters from the door flew wildly in the air as the bullet passed through the cheap wood of the door. Bagheera felt as everything around her slowed to a snail's pace as the bullet made its way towards head. The only sounds that filled her head were the yapping of the dogs and the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body as her heart pounded inside of her just as the bullet pierced her skin.

So what did you think? I thought I'd throw in a nice little fluff piece for the Bagheera/Joker fans without it actual being a love/sex scene. I hope you all like that.

Reviews are amazing! And I'm so sorry this took so long to come out. I was trying to figure out the best way to re-introduce Jonathon and Bagheera back into the story and that seemed to take forever!