Chapter Six
"No," came a voice, and her head whipped around, her eyes widening and filling with tears. "I don't imagine he did."
"Puddin?"
"Alex?"
Most people often forgot that Harley Quinn was every bit as insane as her lover perhaps even more so.
She was the brains behind the more daring and dangerous stunts that the Joker pulled and often the first to draw blood. Unlike her counterpart, she didn't discriminate in her choice of victim. Everyone was subject to her madness, even those closest to her.
Most of the time, her insanity was hidden behind innocuous smiles and barbed words but in that very moment it was in full display.
Those that had dared to hope Joker was alive for her sake were wondering if perhaps it would've been better if the clown stayed dead.
Hazel green eyes were blazing and full of fury and pain as their owner lunged at the Clown Prince of Gotham, her fist slamming into his face.
"You bastard!" She shrieked, ramming her fist into his face again before he could get a word in edgewise.
"You left me! You left me! You left me!" She snarled, her words intermixed with broken sobs, and tears streaming down her cheek.
She went to hit him again but he grabbed her fist, eyes flashing a burning crimson.
"Calm down!" He snarled and she gave a wordless snarl back, straining against him.
"Calm. DOWN!" He repeated, tightening his grip and she glared mutinously.
"You promised not to leave."
"I came back." He growled and she snorted.
"You came back." She sneered, and for a moment her eyes seemed to flash, a dark dangerous black.
'They always come back…doesn't mean they've never left.' The nogitsune whispered darkly in her mind and she bared her teeth in agreement. Something in her mate's eyes softened and he released her fist to cup her jaw in a bruising grip.
"I meant it when I said you were mine. I don't abandon what's mine." His gaze flashed over the assembled until they found his brother and his nephew.
"Unlike some."
She sneered at him. "Doesn't mean you didn't break your promise."
He growled lowly, yanking her closer until their lips were a mere hairsbreadth apart.
"And?" He responded cruelly. "I. Came. Back."
She stared at him, then grinned a wide unnerving grin, her eyes wide and unblinking.
"You. Left." She responded.
He dropped her face with a glare and turned to the others, grinning.
"Nephew! Brother! So nice to see you again." He greeted with faux enthusiasm, though his eyes narrowed when he noticed them both watching his mate worriedly.
He didn't know why.
She was fine. Her little mood would pass with time and she would be back to behaving again. If not, he would induce her again and he knew she didn't want that. His brother (What a funny thought after so long without his family) and his nephew (Uncle Alex, did you really make uncle Pete chase a rabbit) were watching her with a mixture of awe and longing and it was making his hackles rise.
He fought not to snarl at them.
They had no idea who they were dealing with.
He was no longer Alexander Hale, the mischievous younger twin of Peter Hale and the youngest of the Hale siblings. No.
He was the demon of Gotham, the Lord of the underground. His name was spoken in whispers and fear, his laugh known to everyone as a omen of Hell.
He had no place in his life to play happy families with them.
Especially after they'd let that bitch take him away.
Peter stepped forward, his gaze darting between Joker and Harley like he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Alex," He repeated and Joker could almost believe the longing in his voice.
Almost.
"Peter. You look very well for a dead man."
"I got better." His twin responded, snarkily, though the bite was lacking.
"Something you both have in common." Harley muttered and he sighed.
The sheriff stepped forward, tired of being left out of the conversation.
"Who are you?"
Joker smirked. "John Stilinski, heard you made Sheriff how awful. I am The Joker."
Harley rolled her eyes, throwing her arm over her father's shoulder.
"My Mate."
Derek made a wounded sound.
"Mate?"
She smiled darkly.
"Did you expect me to wait for you?"
"I told you I was coming back."
No, you fucked Braeden then left in the middle of the night without telling me shit. Then my "best friend" kicked me out of the pack for killing someone in self-defense all because some alpha-wannabe chimera wanted to kill him and bring back Void."
Erica glared at her alpha. "What? You did WHAT to my Batman?"
Joker made a face. "She's a lot prettier than the Bat. Sweeter too. Almost like candy."
Erica turned to him, horror in her eyes as realization dawned on her.
"You're the Joker."
He grinned savagely.
"Guilty."
She looked over the others, knowing she was the only one in the pack that followed the underworld. (Her favorite hero was Batman- sue her.) Each of Stiles' new friends and even, loathe as she was to admit it, Stiles herself, had set off alarm bells in her mind when she first saw them and now she knew why. They were all very familiar, and not for good reasons.
The sheriff was hosting some of the nastiest criminals in the underground and he didn't even know it.
"Killer Croc, Deadshot, Boomerang, Enchantress, and…Harley Quinn. The worst of the worst. All of you are supposed to be in prison."
Stiles giggled. "We were released early. Good Behavior."
Boyd frowned and Scott stepped forward, practically radiating disappointment.
"Prison? Stiles what the hell have you been doing?"
"Oh, you know, Murder, extortion, racketeering, terrorism. The Works."
"What the hell, Stiles. You know better!"
Joker rolled his eyes and made a face. "Less preaching please."
Lydia sniffed disdainfully. "Coming from the man dressed like a clown. Why don't you crawl back to your circus?" She sneered.
Three dark glares were sent in her direction courtesy of the three Hales in her pack but before anyone could comment a shot sounded and she fell to the ground with a hole in her head.
"Stiles/Harley!" Everyone yelled and she sighed.
"What? Not like you weren't all thinking it."
"Yeah but now I have to find somewhere to hide the body." The Sheriff replied and the Pack stared at him.
Croc stepped forward. "I got it." He replied hefting the corpse into his arms and Derek snarled glaring at his former pack member angrily.
"You don't kill pack, Stiles! Have you lost your fucking mind!"
She sneered nastily, her eyes colder than any of them had ever seen them.
"I'm not pack, remember. Now, it seems you have a funeral to plan. Get the hell out."
TBC…
A/N: I'm not too satisfied with this chapter, so it may be subjected to a rewrite in the near future depending on the direction this story takes.