The clock on the other side of the room ticked loudly, each tick only worsening Joker's mood as he sat at his desk, staring out of the window just beyond the computer screen. Below and stretched in front of him, the wide field in the back of the apartment building was covered in fresh, green grass, and the trees in the distance swayed back and forth slightly in the gentle wind. Joker hadn't blinked over the passed few minutes, but when he heard a sudden bang from below him he instantly snapped out of his daze, and he shook his head as he closed his eyes tightly, growling slightly.

He stood up now and marched across his office and threw his door open. He frowned at the silence; even after a whole month he still always expected to see Animal Plant on the TV, and the top of Willow's head just barely peeking out from the top of the couch. He stared at the bare living room for a moment before he finally blinked a few times, getting even more agitated with himself now. The passed month had seemed to creep by ever so slowly, and each day, no matter where Joker went in his apartment, he was constantly reminded of Willow. Even objects that Willow had never even touched or stood next to reminded him of her in some way; his mind always found a way to relate the two. Must to his dismay, a smile would sometimes seem to crack his face when a random thought of her came about, only to be followed my an angry sigh and a large frown.

Joker couldn't remember the last time he was in a good mood, ever since Willow had left. Left... he thought in his mind. As if she had just picked up her things and decided to leave him, and go off somewhere, on a vacation of sorts. But it wasn't the case, all of her belongings were still in her room, right where she had left them, even to the clothes she was wearing before she changed to go with Joker to blow up the bridges. When Joker got home that night he saw them in her room on the floor, as if she had just been there. He stood in the doorway for a while, still barely out of breath from all that running, his mind still all out of whack from the treacherous thoughts he had been forced to think quickly, before he finally closed the door, and it had remained that way ever since.

He took a quick side glance at the door now as he walked passed it, and he took out a single cigarette from his new pack and that black lighter before he started down the stairs. Another loud banging noise erupted from behind Loc's door, and once Joker had reached the bottom of the stairs he immediately pounded his fist twice on the door. A short second later Loc opened the door, and stared up at the Joker.

"Has that body been taken care of?" Joker asked in a low voice as he glared down at Loc, who nodded.

"Yes," he answered before he swallowed. Lately the Joker had been in nothing but a bad mood, and it made literally everyone afraid to talk to him, for they always feared that Joker had found something that they had done wrong, even if it was a week old.

"How?" Joker tested as he raised his eye brows.

"We b-burned it in the back," Loc said. "You can still see where the fire was, we just haven't -"

Joker interrupted him by turning around and walking out of the apartment's main door. Loc quickly stopped talking and watched him step onto the small concrete landing before he started off towards the side of the building. Loc now allowed himself to roll his eyes before he closed the door. He hated how bitter the Joker had been ever since Willow had been taken care of. Everything was supposed to be better now, when in reality it seemed as though everything was worse. All Joker's men had been doing was just hanging out in their own apartments. Over the passed month the only jobs they had gotten was to take care of the two bodies from Joker's personal, pointless 'joy' killings. One had been a cop, the other just a normal civilian.

Joker mindlessly walked through the tall grass, his eyes focused on the cemetery ahead. He didn't go over to it though, despite sort of wanting to, deep down, and instead walked passed it and leaned on the railing of the concrete stairs in the back of the building to light up his cigarette. It seemed as though he was acting saddened this whole time, but he would not allow his mind to declare this. He wasn't sad, if anything he was just a little weirded out. He had just gotten used to Willow being there, and now suddenly she was gone. All he did everyday and night now was just think about her, and recall how he had acted around her, almost as if he liked her. On the surface he denied it all, but deep down he knew the truth, and the constant battle was driving him, literally, insane.

He exhaled the large stream of smoke and stared at a black ant as it ventured out of the grass and onto the concrete. It paused for a moment, lost, unsure about where to go in this new setting, before he finally ventured on towards Joker's shoe, deciding to take its chances with its chosen rout to get to where it wanted to be. Joker watched it as it slowly came closer to him, and he took another drag. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, and for the first time ever he let his mind think what it wanted. He wondered how, exactly, Willow was doing in Arkham, how she was handling herself. He could recall how it had been for him, and he figured Willow's experience was much different. He went on to wonder if she had started to say anything about his whereabouts, or if she kept quiet like he had seen on the news over her court cases. He wondered if she'd actually be out in four months...

He forced his eyes to snap open and he took another drag, inhaling deeply. He shook his head, angry at himself, again, for even caring. He had left Willow behind for a reason. He had spend countless nights laying awake, tossing and turning over the matter, and it angered him to realize the true reason why he had left her. Over Willow's time there with him, Joker had begun to realize that certain things Willow did drove him crazy, but in a good way. It was almost as if he had begun to actually like her, enjoy spending him with her and teasing her, and most of all, watching her dance at Joey's and kill. He had to leave her there. As much as it honestly, sort of pained him to see her lying in the street, helpless, and knowing that he was the only one who could rescue her, the need to be rid of her was greater. She was distracting, and even after she was gone these thoughts that remained were distracting. He had only taken her to be his toy, his prisoner who he could torture and maybe even occasionally fuck, nothing more, which she had started to become, at a rapid pace...

Joker glanced down now, noticing that the ant had finally made it to it's destination: his shoe. The ant paused just before it now, deciding what to do now that it had made it. Joker had the answer for it, however. He took in another deep drag of his cigarette before he bent down, and placed the burning end of the cigarette on the ant. He pivoted it back and forth on the helpless creature until it went out, and he tossed it into the field, nothing but a black mark left where the ant had been. Joker now stepped inside the back door of the apartment, the ant now just a memory.

He slowly walked through the halls of the old apartment, trying hard not to think about Willow. In the beginning of her sentence he had honestly considered breaking her out. It would be easy, but he just wouldn't let himself plan on it. If he did, it only meant he would be distracted again, and Willow would see it as a sign, a sign that meant something did exist between the two of them, which Joker would have to prove to her that it surely did not, though he wasn't so sure himself. He figured not having Willow around would make his life easier and more carefree again, when in reality it seemed to be just the opposite...

Willow woke up the next morning feeling remarkably rested. She slowly opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the morning sunlight that flooded its way in through her tiny window, and the florescent light that shone in through the small, square barred window on her cell door. She yawned as she rolled over from her side onto her back on her cot, and she stretched her arms out as she did so, finding her right shoulder blade to be a little sore. She shrugged it off and now laid still as she stared up at the ceiling.

The last thing from the previous day she could remember was her freaking out in her doctor's office. She groaned as she recalled the experience, knowing it did nothing to help achieve her freedom, and instead only brought her that much more closer to going into a straightjacket, most likely. She sighed as she felt that painful pang go through her heart as she remembered what the doctor had been saying about the Joker. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to clear it out of her memory. She wasn't scheduled to visit her doctor today, so she figured she'd get back on track with Jonathan's plan and take a shower, and even force herself to eat a little.

She yawned once more as she now heard footsteps all the way down the long hall, and she knew it to be a guard and some nurse making their usual morning rounds. She figured she'd get up and meet them at the door and request that yes, she would like a shower for a change, and that yes, she would like to go into the leisure room and skip breakfast, but that she would enjoy some lunch later in the day. She forced herself to sit up, and she arched her back as she did so, stretching it, before she threw the covers off her. She lazily walked over to her sink, and she leaned on it as she glared at her sleepy face in the dirty mirror. She was just about to splash cold water on her face to help her wake up more when she froze suddenly. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at her hair that covered her exposed shoulder, a faint, red line just under it. Her heart began to slightly race as she slowly reached up and brushed her hair off her shoulder, and her eyes immediately widened.

Her once sloppy, raised-skin scar had been replaced with a dark, red line that laid flat against her skin. She bit her lip as she traced her finger over it, sickened to find that it felt just like her skin, only a little more smoother. She stared at it, a small squeaking noise coming from her throat as she began to panic and she glanced around for a second before her eyes fell back to it. Then, a horrible thought came to mind. What about the scar on her back...? She swallowed as she lifted her shirt and she turned around, standing on her tip-toes now as she glanced behind her, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breath. A long, deep red line in the shape of her previous scar ran itself down the length of her back, resembling the scar that was once there. Her mouth fell open as the sight of it; her scars were gone!

Willow's screams echoed out of her cell and through the hall as she slammed her hands down on the wall on either side of the mirror. Her hair stuck her face as tears fell from her eyes, and she felt that horrible pain rip through her heart again. The last memorabilia she had left of the Joker was now gone, forever. The guard the nurse now ran down the hall, passed all the other inmates, until they reached the last cell on the block. The nurse rushed along the guard as he struggled to quickly unlock the heavy door, and once it was open they ran inside.

"No! No! No!" Willow kept screaming as she continued to hit the wall, her hands stinging, but she ignored it. The guard brought his hands down onto her shoulders and she quickly brought both her elbows back in an attempt to get him off of her as she continued to scream and cry, unable to control the rage inside of her. The guard recovered quickly and grabbed her arms before he threw her onto her cot, Willow still thrashing around as he held her down. The last thing she saw was that stupid, somewhat frightened looking female nurse step over to her, holding a syringe in her hands. Willow closed her eyes tight and screamed as loud as she could as she felt that needle enter her arm, until suddenly all her movement and noise seized, and everything went black.

–

"Willow... Willow..."

Willow moaned slightly as she felt herself slowly start to wake up, and just over her she could hear a female's voice gently saying her name. She opened her eyes, her mind still slightly fuzzy, and she focused her gaze on the same nurse that had given her the sedatives.

"How are you feeling?" she cooed, and Willow squinted her eyes as her head started to hurt.

"Tired," she answered, her voice just barely above a whisper. The nurse laughed slightly. The guard behind her shifted his weight as he watched Willow while the nurse continued to study her face.

"And how do you feel about your... scars... being gone?"

Willow' breath hitched in her throat, she had nearly forgotten, but rather she forced herself to take a deep breath, and she rolled her eyes as she turned her head to the side, finally realizing she was on her cot in her cell. The nurse hummed to herself as she slowly got off her knelt position by the bed.

"I think she's calm now," she said lowly to the guard, and Willow growled to herself as she rolled her eyes. Words, screams, and body actions at this point could no longer express the deep, longing sadness and pure, Hellish anger she felt. Everyday, more and more, both of these emotions built up inside her, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.

"Willow, do you want to go to the leisure area?" The nurse asked. Willow grumbled something in a low voice, the nurse forced a smile, trying to keep her patience in front of her least favorite inmate. "What?" She asked sweetly, and Willow sighed.

"Sure," she said in a monotone voice. The nurse rolled her eyes as she leaned back up, and she turned to the guard before she nodded over at Willow, signaling he should escort her over.

Willow slowly walked down the hall, the bright lights above doing nothing for her head. She saw Jonathan sitting in his usual spot, but she ignored him, not in the mood to hear any of his lectures. She made a point not to look at him as she headed straight over to the couch, and she winced as she sat down, the cushions hard as she plopped onto them. She tried to mask her anger, keeping it all inside as she looked up at the cartoon on the TV. Jonathan had turned to her, slightly confused as to why she hadn't sat with him, until he saw her flat, angry expression. He cleared his throat.

"I know what happened," he said. "Rather, I heard what happened. With your doctor...?" He pushed on when she didn't answer. She continued to stare up at the TV, trying to ignore him, but rather he was just forcing her to rethink about what had happened. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"No." Willow's voice was flat as she continued to stare up at the stupid cartoon. Literally everything at this point was putting her in a very fowl mood.

"I think we have to," he said. "If you ever want to get out of here..."

Willow growled under her breath as Jonathan grinned slightly from behind her as he stared at the profile of her face.

"Or you can continue to act out," he said. "In a very childish manor, I might add. And rot here. And when I'm gone, you'll really be alone, with just your thoughts."

"Shut up," Willow said as she turned her head towards him, and she frowned even more, if it was at all possible, when she saw him just grinning at her.

"And that right there indicates that yes, you do want to talk."

Willow sighed again as she turned back to that stupid cartoon.

"A conversation with me would prove to be very enlightening and helpful. A lot more so than that silly cartoon..."

Willow was still making a point to ignore him, but of course, with her luck, a stupid clown appeared on screen, a wide, red smile on its somewhat evil looking face as it threw a pie at the little cartoon dog. She swallowed as she closed her eyes tight, and she saw nothing but Joker in that darkness...

Without a word she slowly stood up and walked around the couch, and she glared at Jonathan as she pulled out the chair and sat down across from him.

"So. What happened?" He asked. Willow rolled her eyes as she slouched down. She felt tears burning behind her eyes, but she did not want to cry. Every time she did now she always felt exhausted, and it just gave the doctors even more reason to decide to keep her there longer. She took a deep breath.

"Just... the things he was saying about him," she said as she rose her glazed over, green eyes to Jonathan, who had his glasses on as he nodded his head. "I just couldn't take it..."

"Well," he said as he leaned in, and he took in a small but deep breath before continuing. "Every single person here has nothing but bad, or 'mean' things to say about him. It's up to you to know whats true and what's not, and since you've been around him for such a long time, you would know."

He sounded somewhat sarcastic, Willow could tell. She knew that Jonathan didn't like the Joker, and that he was one of the people who had nothing but nasty things to say about him, but Willow realized regardless he was helping her, and of course, he was right.

"And another thing, you have to stop freaking out!" He said, laughing slightly as he sat back for quick second before he leaned forward again. "Literally every single time you do, it tells doctors that no, she is not showing any signs, at all, of progressing, and that yes, we do need to keep her longer. Sorry judge, but four months is simply not enough. And I can guarantee that they already think that four months isn't enough."

By now Willow looked as though she was about ready to cry again, but Jonathan pushed on, knowing she had to hear this.

"I know it's going to be hard to deal with all that time with your doctor, and continue to live in that tiny cell, but you have to pull through, and make them, and even yourself at this point, believe that you are getting better. If you don't, you'll be stuck here for a long time. I won't be here forever, you know," he said. "But I'm starting to feel as though you're not even listening to my advice anyway..."

"No! I am!" Willow said quickly as she leaned in. "Really, I am," she said in a calmer voice. "I had nothing but the best intentions today," she started, her eyes wide, the tears that had been burning behind her eyes now gone. "I was going to take a shower, hang out in here, and even eat some lunch," she offered. "But then..." she bowed her head a little, suddenly remembering, again, about her scars. "But then I found out that they.. fixed my scars."

"Fixed?" Jonathan asked. Willow continued to look down as she moved the right side of her already lose, baggy collar to the side, letting Jonathan look over the boring red mark that now sat on her shoulder. He removed his glasses as he leaned over the table.

"Oh, wow," he said. "Yep. They smoothed that thing right out, didn't they?"

"It's horrible," Willow whined as she threw her greasy hair behind her shoulder.

"Why?" Jonathan asked now as he folded his glasses, placing them on the table in front of him.

"Because, I liked them," Willow said.

"Why?" Jonathan pushed on. "My guess is that when he gave those to you, you didn't exactly want them, at the time. Correct?"

"I guess," Willow said, recalling that night, and how painful that knife had been as it ripped through her skin. She shuddered slightly as she remembered all that blood...

"So, why be sad?" He asked as he shook his head. "I mean, nothing but a bad memory comes with them. I can tell by that look on your face."

Willow sighed again as she threw her arms into the air. "Because, they just reminded me of him!" She said. "And now they're gone."

"Well guess what," Jonathan said with a grin. "Remember what I told you? How they would get rid of any physical evidence of him? Well now they're all gone." He nodded as he continued to smile at her, and Willow' mouth dropped open a little as she stared at the table. "With that out of the way, all you have to do at this point is deal with whatever hurtful words they say about him."

Willow slowly nodded, a somewhat refreshing feeling washing over her as she realized what he was saying. She looked back up to Jonathan as he started to talk.

"Now all you have to do is stop those tantrums, talk to your doctors as if you're over him, and take care of yourself. If you do, these next two months will fly by."

Willow bit her tongue, unable to help but smile at him.

"Think you can?" Jonathan asked, and Willow slowly nodded. She wanted to more than anything, but she was unsure if she could...

"And don't be too sad about those scars," he consoled. "Just think, when you go back to him, I'm sure he'll be happy to give you some new ones."

Willow smiled along with him, but her mind was distant. She wasn't so sure she wanted any new ones, suddenly. It seemed as though now Joker was the one deserving of a new scar...

–

Willow walked down the hall towards her cell with the same security guard and nurse from before. She was silent as she walked, and she made a point to stare at the ground as she thought back to all that Jonathan had told her. She did desperately want to get out of Arkham, but she knew she wasn't acting like it. She finally realized it was going to take some hard work faking her way out, but what else could she do at this point?

"It's one o' clock," the nurse stated to Willow as she looked over to her. "Do you want some lunch?"

Willow licked her lips. She really, really did not want to eat Arkham's horrid food, but her stomach grumbled slightly, and she tried to remember the last time she had eaten.

"Sure," Willow said in as nice as voice as she could do. The nurse was take back by this, and she smiled slightly.

"Okay," she said. "I'll have someone bring that right to you." They had reached her cell, and Willow waited for the guard to unlock the door before he opened, the door squeaking loudly, and Willow stepped inside, and she instantly headed over to her bed. The door slammed shut and she listened to the guard lock it before following the nurse.

Willow sighed as she plopped down on her bed. The collar of her shirt moved to the side, and she looked over to her shoulder, and sadly traced her finger along the red line there. She rolled her eyes now as she scooted back on the bed until her back hit the wall. She brought her knees up to her chest and she placed her arms on them, letting them dangle off as she stared at the floor. She wondered what Joker was doing; she figured at this time he was most likely out and about, finding some chaos to create. She wondered if he was perhaps with Joey, and she wondered what Joey thought about all this. She thought about the bridges, and she wondered what Gotham was doing to repair them, and whatever happened to the people who got stuck downtown. She had been so excited to see the aftermath, and laugh with Joker as they watched the news coverage, but now that dream would never come true.

Suddenly the little metal flap located in the middle of the door was dropped down, and Willow watched as someone placed a tray on it, and they pushed it forward before setting a small bottle of water behind it. They left without a word, their footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. Willow made a face as she walked towards the food, and she picked it up, staring at the broccoli, old macaroni and cheese, and stale piece of bread that sat on the metal tray. She grabbed the water and tried not to breath in the scent as she brought it back to her bed, and she set it down before sitting cross legged in front of it. She started with opening her bottle of water, and she took a small sip before she capped it, and she forked a piece of broccoli. She felt as thought she chewed it for ages until finally she swallowed it, feeling sick already. She knew this was going to be a long meal...

Sorry for the long wait! thank you for all the reviews on the first chapter, im glad to see so many people are already with this story! keep those reviews coming!