AN: I am soooooo sorry for taking forever to update!!! I have been crazy busy with school...why does everything always have to be due at the same time?!?! Anyway, I'm making it up to you guys by giving you a much longer chapter than the last few. Thanks for all the reviews from the previous chapter and again, really sorry to have kept you waiting. Hopefully, it won't take as long to get the next one up! Enjoy...

I entered the hardware store, grabbing a shopping cart and started my search to find all the items on the list. My only hope was that no one would notice that everything I was grabbing could be used to make a bomb. As I was turning to cut down the paint aisle, I heard a familiar voice behind me ask, "Melanie?"

I spun around so fast to find myself face to face with my father. "Dad?" I asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he said.

At that my mind was racing, Oh please don't. Don't look at what's in my cart. Dad will know right away that I have the things needed to make a bomb. And exactly how will I explain that one then?

Dad interrupted my thoughts, "So where is he?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Him," he said. As I continued to look slightly puzzled, he whispered, "The Joker."

"Ohhh!" I exclaimed, as it finally clicked, "Yeah, he's not here."

"Not here? Well, where is he then?"

"Oh, umm…back where we're staying. He just sent me out on an errand quick is all," I explained, praying he wouldn't ask what sort of errand.

"And he really thinks you'll just come back?" Dad asked, his eyes surveying me as if he was calculating, weighing his options.

"Yes," I said, unsure of why he asked, "Because he knows I will go back."

"But technically, you don't have to. You can come back with me and tough luck for him, that's what happens when he trusts his hostage to just run up to the store and come right back."

"I'm not his hostage. And I'm not going to do that."

"The whole city believes that he kidnapped you. If someone else realizes who you are, and you just go back to him, what is that going to look like, Mel?"

"I don't care what it looks like, Dad. I wasn't kidnapped. I went with him willingly."

"He didn't give you a choice. He would've kidnapped you if you refused to go."

"That's besides the point. He trusts me and I trust him. Not to mention that I'm the only one he's got. I understand him…he's told me things because I understand."

"Oh please! You don't understand The Joker. No one understands The Joker," Dad said, rolling his eyes.

"I do. He's told me things, Dad, about his childhood that explain a lot about him. I get that. I understand him, believe it or not. And I'm not about to leave him or betray him like everyone in his life has done before."

"Melanie! Listen to yourself! You're talking crazy. It's like you love him."

"So what if I do? I'm sure he loves me too!" I cried.

"Oh, that's just great! You love him and he's supposed to love you. The Joker doesn't love, Mel, he doesn't have compassion. He doesn't care. He's insane and clearly he's made you believe otherwise, you're delusional. You need to come back to me," Dad said, reaching for my hand.

I jerked my hand away from him. "No! That's where you're wrong. You wouldn't understand because you don't even understand me!"

"Well, I would just like to know how you think you understand him. You didn't have a difficult childhood, there is no way you get where he is coming from."

"You think my childhood wasn't tough, huh? Well, gee, Dad, it definitely wasn't all gumdrops and roses either!" I spat, turning on my heel and pushing my cart away. When I was halfway down the aisle, I glanced back to see him staring after me in shock. "See ya, Dad!" I called as I pushed on and rounded the corner out of his sight.

I rushed through the rest of the store, grabbing up everything on The Joker's list. I was hoping that I wouldn't see Dad again, and as I left the building and threw the stuff into the car as fast as I could, I had managed not to see him again. As I slammed the car into drive and pulled out of the parking place, I saw him walk out and head to his truck. I was pretty sure he didn't know what I was driving, but just to be sure I kept one eye in the rearview mirror and took the long way back to The Joker's hideout.

By the time I reached the hideout, I was still pretty pissed about my father's words and accusations. I practically kicked the door open and slammed the stuff on the ground. I was making a lot of noise and within a couple seconds of my entrance, The Joker had appeared. He stayed back a moment, surveying me as if trying to decide if it was safe for him to approach. I glanced up at him, anger causing my face to flush as I blinked back the angry tears that stung in my eyes.

The Joker noticed this and carefully approached me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a loving embrace that I had never imagined he would give me. "It's ok, it's going to be all right," he whispered gently in my ear. I sighed and buried my face into his shoulder, letting the tears fall.

It felt like a good five minutes at least that he held me as I cried. He stroked my hair and hugged me, somewhat awkwardly but it was comforting just the same. Once I had cried out all my tears, I straightened my body and back out of his arms. Wiping my eyes, I muttered, "Sorry."

"It's ok," he said. "What happened anyway?"

"I saw my dad at the store and he tried to convince me to not come back to you. And then he accused me of not being able to understand you and pretty much told me I was an idiot for trusting you."

"Aah, well, that's not that big of a deal. You and I both know that what he's saying isn't true and that's all that really matters. That and you came back to me. Look we've got each other so who really cares what everyone else in Gotham thinks?" He said, giving me his "serious" attempt at a smile.

I giggled and nodded my head. "So where do you want this stuff anyways?"

"Umm…you can help me carry it down to my lab, I suppose," he said, reaching for one of the bags.

We carried all the supplies down into the basement which was his lab. It had everything you could possibly imagine that might be useful for making explosives and laughing gas. Pretty much everything The Joker used to terrorize Gotham City could be found down here and the means to produce these products.

He quickly began unpacking the bags and boxes and began working on assembling the bomb. I started to head upstairs, wanting to leave him to his work without disturbance. He must've heard my feet creek on the stairs because he spoke, "You can stay and keep me company if you want."

I turned back and descended the stairs I had just walked up, "Ok, if you don't mind me watching."

He looked up as I approached, "Nah, I don't mind."

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She sat a couple feet to my left quietly watching me as I worked. I didn't say anything. I was busy concentrating on putting everything together properly. She was probably thinking about the run-in with her father anyways. So much for him being one of the 'understanding' types.

Suddenly, she spoke, "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," I replied, not looking up.

"I mean, can I ask you something about your scars and your past?"

I put down the wire cutters and turned to look at her. I unconsciously licked my lips, "And what would that be?" I asked as calmly as I could, knowing that I was about to have to relive some other horrid portion of my childhood.

"I'm sorry to make you revisit those memories," she began. I nodded to keep her talking. "But what you told me got me thinking…what did your mother say when she saw what your dad did to you…"

I bowed my head and took a deep breath. Yep, I was right about reliving those damn memories again. I leaned back against the workbench and began my tale, "Well, Mom didn't really have much to say about it. She was never home much. When she got home that night and saw my injuries, she asked what happened like any decent mother would. I told her that Dad did it for me always being depressed. She actually laughed and told me 'Good because you probably deserved it' and headed off to find Dad, probably to get his take on the matter."

"She said that?!?!" Mel exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes," I said with a nod. "But really it's not that surprising. She always found everything that Dad said or did amusing," I said making a face of disgust. "She did it to avoid his drunken wrath, yet she would never do anything to protect me from it," I snorted.

"But why was she never home much?" Mel asked, recalling my mention of that.

"Because she was a stripper. Well, honestly, a hooker might be a better title for her. So she was always off having a good ol' time with perfect strangers leaving me behind to suffer Dad's alcohol-induced abuse," I explained, casting my eyes to the floor.

I felt her inch closer to me. It was her silent way of encouraging me to continue my story. If only it were just a story, but alas it is the truth…it is my past, my history.

"I'll never forget how funny she found my cut up face. She smiled when she first saw it before she even knew what happened. My eyes were full of tears and my cheeks soaked in blood, and you know what she did? She laughed. She laughed like I had never seen my mother laugh before. And then when I told her that Dad did it, she was practically rolling in the floor, doubled over in laughter. I felt so hurt and betrayed by my own mother," I growled, slamming my fist on the workbench.

Melanie stood up and walked over to me. She took my hand in hers and said, gently, "It's ok now, you have me. Please finish telling me what happened."

I nodded. Then I shook my head, tossing my green hair about my face making me look like the maniac everyone thought I was. Everyone but Mel of course, now that she understood that is. "After Mom regained her composure, she headed off to find Dad. I was certain that she went to give him a nice lap dance, just like she did every other night. I was sure it was in one part to feel less guilty about the ones she did every night to complete strangers for money. Money that Dad would use to buy alcohol. Of course, that night I figured it was probably also to reward him for a job well done in whipping me into shape."

I paused and sighed. I knew there was more to the story, more that I needed Melanie to know so she would completely understand. I just wasn't sure I could go on. "I don't know if I can continue," I said.

"It's alright, we'll take it one step at a time," Melanie said, giving me a hug. She then led me over to the chairs she had been sitting in before. She squeezed my hand tight and smiled at me.

"Ok, I'll continue," I said, as I squeezed her hand back. "One night, a couple months later, we get a phone call from the police. They say that Mom was found murdered, partially clothed, in a back alley of Twelfth Avenue. Most likely one of her clients hadn't been too happy. Dad was furious. He was drunk as usually and he came after me, blaming me for my mother's death. I was crying; I couldn't help it; I had just become motherless. Dad grabbed the knife and grabbed me. He threw me down into the chair and sat on top of me. He finished carving my face into this smile that night and told me that I shouldn't cry about things like this at my age."

"Then what happened?"

"I got my revenge. I wasn't going to keep letting my father do whatever he wanted to do to me without being sorry. And I wasn't going to let him blame me for a murder I had nothing to do with. They never found who killed my mom…just another unsolved murder, probably gang or mob related…there would be another three of those before the week was out anyways so one wasn't that big of a deal to anybody. Anyways, I stood up to my dad and he got what he deserved. I got his knife and he paid, for every little thing he ever did to me. And well, here I am!" I cackled my trademark Joker laugh causing Mel to jump a bit.

"That's just awful!" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, it's tragic. But that's life," I shrugged.

Melanie hugged me again and whispered, "I will never hurt you, I promise. I'll never leave you either…you'll always have me."

I didn't say a word. I just hugged her back and smiled to myself. She really is mine and no one will ever change that now. She's my loving little puppy. I almost laughed at that thought, but I refrained. I stood up and returned to the workbench and began working on the bomb again.

She remained in the chair and didn't say a word, but I could feel her eyes on my back. She was watching my every move, and I didn't have to look at her to know her eyes were full of concern. Concern for me.

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I remained silent the rest of the time he worked. I couldn't imagine what he had been through. I felt horrible for him. His story was so much worse than I ever imagined it to be. The worst part was I knew there was nothing I could say or do to make it any better for him. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't ask any more questions about his past. I figured that I knew enough at this point. How could it get worse? It probably can't, but you never know. Some demons are better left alone and buried in the past.

After about an hour, he shouted, "Ah-ha!!! Success!!!"

"You're done? It works?" I asked.

He turned around to face me, holding a small package that contained the bomb. "It sure does," he grinned. "And now I will need you to take and deliver this precious package."

"Where?" I asked.

"Wayne Manor," he replied coolly.

"What?!?!" I exclaimed.

"Wayne Manor," he repeated. "You know where that is, right?"

"Yeah, I know where it is. But why there?"

"We have to be sure someone is distracted so he won't interfere with what I will be doing while you are delivering this present."

"And exactly what will you be doing?" I asked.

He laughed, "Kidnapping the commissioner, of course."

I grinned weakly as I took the package. I might feel sorry for the guy, but I still couldn't really get enthusiastic about kidnapping Commissioner Gordon. I didn't exactly see the point, but I figured he did, so I might as well go along with the plan. I headed up the stairs carrying the package that within half an hour would be reeking havoc on Wayne Manor. "Just be careful, sweets!" He called after me with his signature laugh, sending a brief chill down my spine.