This was supposed to be a one shot, but with the overwhelming amount of requests I got to do a Joker POV, I simply couldn't refuse. I just hope I did him justice.
Joker POV:
I breathe heavily, anxious to get started. My bright green hair whips around in the wind generated by the bird's blades as my patience starts to run thin. Waiting is not a concept I am familiar with; if I want something done, it gets done quickly. But my little pain in the ass and her rag-tag group of misfits haven't arrived on the rooftop yet, so once again I am forced to deviate from the normal and stick with a pre-made plan. For her. And she knows how much I despise following plans.
Impatiently, I stick my head through the opening and look towards the rooftop, only to duck back inside once I see the group walk through the doorway. A wide grin makes its way onto my face as I catch a glimpse of my queen. I wrap my hands tightly around my machine gun and prepare for the moment I have been dreaming of for weeks. I've finally got you back, Baby.
The second the first shot is fired the chopper spins around and I start firing wildly into the crowd of people, laughing with the feeling of power that fills me. The screams of the wounded cause my eyes to roll back into my head, and I growl with a sadistic pleasure. My eyes roll forward again and I swing around, eyeing the professor who works frantically in the front seat. "Professor! Will you pick up the pace?" he looks towards me and signals that we are good to go.
Turning back towards the rooftop, I pull my phone out of my pocket, quickly sending Harley a text before going back to shooting into the group of people without bothering to aim. Seconds later, the gun slips from my hands as I take in the full sight of her in all her glory. My breathing once again picks up as I reach down and grab onto a rope, throwing it down to her. All of my focus is completely directed on her and her craziness that I would never admit to having missed desperately while we were apart. My voice comes out sounding as a breathless moan as I breathe out, "Come on, Baby."
Her eyes never leave mine as she slowly makes her way to the rope, ripping off her jacket on the way. A bit louder I say again, "Come on, Baby." The look in her eyes is one of adoration, one that is surely reflected in my own eyes. An excited grin spreads onto my face as she breaks into a run before leaping off the edge of the roof, hands wrapping around the rope with ease. That's my girl.
Johnny, who was shooting along side me, stops shooting when she grabs on, and the sound of her intoxicating laughter fills the air. God, that laugh is addictive. I could listen to it for days.
Annoyance sets in as I watch her fool around on the rope, swinging around as if we have all fucking day. I watch as she freezes and her eyes lock onto someone on the roof. I lift my gaze and my heart speeds up as I see a gun trained on her, held by the guy who never misses. I watch as he closes his eyes before pulling the trigger, and my heart stops beating.
The gunshot rings out through the air.
And my Harley
falls.
She flips down the rope and stops near the end, one hand still hanging on. He couldn't have shot her. No. She's just humoring them.
Everything and everyone is silent and all I hear is the blood pumping through my ears as I wait for her to reveal herself and spring back to life.
But that doesn't happen. No, of course not.
It all happens in slow motion. In one frame her hand finally gives out, and in the second frame her body plummets toward the ground. Time gets slower and slower, each frame slowing down until it eventually stops all together and all I can see is my beautiful creation frozen in the air, small in the distance. For the first time since losing her, I cannot hear the voices that plague my thoughts, for they finally have nothing to say. My throat feels raw as I slowly regain my hearing, the sound of dark, horrified screams ripping through the silence. I don't realize that I'm the one screaming, and I don't care. I don't remember falling to the floor, but I feel its coldness press against my forehead as the piercing screams continue. My chest feels completely empty, as if somebody has scooped out my insides with a spoon. My queen has been taken for me.
A sharp jolt rocks the chopper back, sending it spiraling towards the ground. Just as my Harley had. My stomach churns with the feeling of free falling, but nothing can compare to the pain of losing my queen. I close my eyes. And wait. And just as suddenly as my world came crashing down, my body smashes into the ground. And the darkness finally wins.
Please tell me how I did in the reviews. I am also debating about whether to do a Harley POV or not, so tell me if you think I should.