I do not own Suicide Squad.

I'm just glad to have survived to the end of this story!

50 Shades of Mr. J.

Over the Edge

She backed up slowly, balls of her shoed feet on the walkway metal, heels out over the edge of the precipice.

Tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

He wouldn't like that, Mr. J. He wouldn't appreciate them at all, the sad, sappy tears.

She had seen his untimely death. The first one.

The one he had come back from.

And praised his bravery, his determination.

His strength.

And he, the vicious, uncompromising Clown Prince of Crime, had mocked her.

"I'm not your noble, fair haired knight here to rescue you, to be admired and fawned over, Harley! I'll abandon you without blinking an eye. I'll show you your own death if you don't back off. And it will be painful. And long."

She'd tried to stop. Loving and caring about him. She'd tried. But she couldn't.

And now she stood high above the vats of yellow-pale liquid.

Vaguely bubbling and reeking.

She stood so high.

So frightfully high.

With her Joker glaring disgustedly at her.

And made her decision.

"You said before the only thing I could do for you was to throw myself into a vat of acid."

He raised his eyebrows and set his expression in a noncommittal, uninterested kind of way. As if nothing she said or did mattered to him whatsoever.

As if she was only mildly amusing. Like a bug. That he would squash at his leisure.

She clenched her jaw at his flagrant disregard and continued.

"If you really don't care anything at all about me, then I'll just throw myself into this vat of . . . whatever the hell this is. And just drown. Then it'll be over."

The Joker shrugged.

"I wouldn't suggest it, my dear. You're more likely to miss and split your stupid little head open and leak your pretty little brains out all over the pool."

He grinned his metaled smile at her in challenge.

"But if you just feel you must . . ."

He gestured vaguely.

". . . then by all means, fly right in. But I warn you . . . it hurts. I should know."

Glints of metal winked at her he as he very nearly growled his disdain at her feeble ploy to raise his humanity.

She stopped talking then.

There was nothing more for her to say.

She drank in every nuance and detail of his beautiful, hideous self for the last time.

And let gravity tilt her back.

Into empty nothingness. And the caustic, waiting, hungry liquid below.

She felt the rush of air, blond hair loose and flying around her face.

And she felt freedom.

Not wild exhilaration or surging fear.

But serenity. Peace.

Quiet, whispering freedom.

Pouring into her broken soul.

Dulling the weeping pain there.

Just before she hit the surface of the pool.

And knew no more.

Above her, unseen, The Joker stared in dull surprise at the space she had been.

Jumped.

She had jumped.

Oh, he had encouraged it, manipulated, pushed her to do it.

But he never thought she actually would.

Then he grunted and glared.

"Stupid, crazy bitch," he muttered in aggravation, flinging his jacket to the ground and setting his jaw against what was to come.

"Going to be the death of me."

And leapt, soared, out over the edge.

And down toward her.

Without the blink of an eye.

It hurt, of course, it did.

But dully, indifferently, like someone already burned once by the deadly chemicals.

Burned and scarred and survived.

Which he was.

He found her limp form somewhere in the thick sludge, floating like a dead, poisoned fish.

Knocked unconscious, just like he'd warned her.

Well, not just.

Pretty little brains still cooped up inside her stupid little blond head.

As if that mattered.

And he slowly brought her up.

White washed.

White washed and featureless.

As if reborn.

And not breathing.

He dragged her to the edge of the concavity. Laid her down.

She remained still for a moment.

Still and lifeless.

And The Joker watched.

For a time.

Certainly longer than he'd ever considered wasting on any other living thing he'd ever met.

Several handfuls of seconds at least.

And just as he was about to abandon her useless, stupid corpse, she sputtered.

Coughed.

And struggled to open her eyes.

"Harley?" he whispered, eyes aglow.

Locked onto her blue ones, all that were of her visible through the viscous covering she was awash in.

Saved her. He had saved her.

Jumped in and pulled her out and saved her.

When he didn't have to.

He did care.

He did.

All it took was time.

And a vat of acid pain.

But he did care.

"Mr. J."

Her whisper was raspy and broken.

It spoke of pain and love and need.

For him.

And it flipped his Joker switch.

Attempting to sear her with his loathing, the whitewashed Joker spoke, himself once again.

"Well, my stupid little bitch, did you finally get what you wanted?"

She smiled dreamily, ghastly through her chemical coating.

"Yes, Mr. J. You care about me. I know you do. You don't even ever have to say it. I know now."

He drew back, just a little, as if attacked, by her adoring declaration.

Then leaned forward once again, almost intimately and gifted her his most wicked grin.

Hissing through rotten, metaled teeth.

"Harley, my dear, if I ever once decide I care for you at all, I'll strap that perfect ass of yours to a rocket and shoot you straight to the moon."

Unable to contain herself even through the pain enveloping her chemical-coated body, she giggled.

Girlishly. Adoringly.

Well aware that it might flare his rage and lead to another violent outburst. Yet unable to stop herself.

The man himself stared at her incredously as she lay there, saturated in chemicals and giggling like a teenager.

Then he rose dismissively.

"Alright, let's get out of here then. I've ruined my best suit. And you look like hell."

And stomped off without looking back.

Harley Quinn staggered to her feet, slopping mess everywhere.

And stumbled after her puddin'.

"Whatever you say, Mr. J."

Ahead of her, the man known as The Joker rolled his eyes and groaned.

He was never going to be able to get rid of her now.

Even if he wanted to.

And that's the end. Well, my end. Well, not really. There's never really an end, only the place where the storyteller stops writing, right? ;)

Anyway, thanks to Fra-Chan-18, asantos11300, and CrystalFalls1987 for your reviews.

Thanks also to Jenny Heirden, Kingdomfan09, and Wake Up and Live for adding your support to this story.

Thanks to everybody who read and I hope you enjoyed!

Happy reading, of anything! :D