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32. Save the Hero
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Disclaimer: Thank you SO much to all of my readers/reviewers!!! You are my heroes!!!!!!!! In this chapter, the dialogue I am going to use does not belong to me, it belongs to Beyonce and her song "Save the Hero" which I felt was very fitting for Giada and Batman's relationship. Enjoy!
After I left the meeting I crashed; my adrenaline high fell dramatically. I was so in love with the Joker and I felt like I was just consistently pushing him further and further away—but I had to because he was limiting me and my capabilities. Well, I showed him today in that meeting. I just knew they were all in there probably talking about who Batman could be and how I could possibly know. The Joker didn't believe me though—he couldn't have. Of all the people in my life, he knows me the best—he knows exactly what I am thinking all the time. I just knew that he knew I was lying. It was worth the shot though!
I wandered back to the apartment. I glanced at my cell phone. How did I miss Thanksgiving? I didn't even know what day it was anymore! Thanksgiving had been a week ago! Good thing Mr. J didn't know when Thanksgiving was either—or maybe he did and he was just humoring me. How the hell did I miss Thanksgiving?! I wondered if he celebrated Christmas or Hanukah or something. I sighed, place my phone back down on the bed and went into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and frowned at myself. I looked terrible. My hair was a mess, my face paint was coming off and my costume was beginning to fall apart. I quickly stripped down to nothing and ran the shower.
I took a twenty minute shower—the first long shower I had taken in months. It was amazing. I washed every bit of paint from my face, my hair and body. I glanced down at the jade pendant that hung around my neck. I had almost forgotten about the jade pendent the Joker had given to me; it felt like weeks ago and it had only been a day or two! So maybe on some level he still loves me and isn't too pissed at me. I sighed, finished washing up and turned off the shower. I changed into my normal clothes, dried my hair and put on normal makeup. I then sat down and sewed up the defects in my costume, this time stitching them much better than I had previously. By the time I finished with my costume, all was getting dark outside. I guess it made sense since the sun set at 4:30. I hated the winter!
The night fell and the Joker never came back to the apartment. I figured he wouldn't, but I wasn't really sure as to why. I tried not to think about it too much. I made myself dinner and went to sleep.
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The next day came and went again, and still the Joker did not return back to the apartment. Night fell once again and I went to bed alone. Each day and night he was gone, I grew sadder and sadder. Maybe I had driven him away. That would be so strange—not very much like the Joker.
It wasn't until the fourth night came that I went around the apartment and began lighting the candles and took a hold of the book from his book shelf that had the military photo of him. I removed the photo from the book and looked at it for several minutes.
"Who was there to save the hero? You were the hero, weren't you—not the bad guy. Who was there to save you?" I asked aloud to the photo. I went into the bedroom with the photo on hand and changed out of my clothes and into my costume. I painted my face in my own harlequin style and tucked his picture into my clothing.
I needed to get out of the apartment. I needed to find the Joker for myself—to make sure for myself that he was even still alive. As I walked down the streets of Gotham, a horrible thought crossed my mind: Pixie Dust and her memory erasing dust. What if she made the Joker sniff some dust she pretended was something else but it was the memory dust? What if she made the Joker forget all about me and his feelings about me? My heart sank at this very real thought. Not able to carry myself any further with this heavy of a heart, I sat down in an alley and tried to just breathe. I closed my eyes and sat in the cold and darkness.
"What's the matter, little harlequin?" Pixie's voice rang cacophonously throughout my ears. My eyes flew open and my head popped up immediately. She stood before me with my Joker, the Chechen, Maroni, Gamble and a few other mobsters. With all the inner strength I could muster up, I stood to my feet.
"What's the matter? Nothing at all," I responded flatly.
"You haven't been out this past week—not since that day you busted into our meeting," Pixie laughed.
"Yeah, I've been tending to other things more important—like holiday shopping," I responded sarcastically.
"Holiday shopping? For who? Mr. J? Mr. J, what do you want for Christmas from your little girlfriend?" Pixie asked.
I just laughed at her remark. I wasn't going to let this bitch make fun of me or the Joker. I didn't think the Joker would let that happen either. I didn't give him a chance to.
"Pixie you are too funny! Why would I buy the Joker something for Christmas?! What am I—his wife? Don't think so! I was thinking more along the lines of something for myself—something expensive and pretty—and maybe something for my friend Batman," I responded.
"Batman, really?" Maroni asked with a grin.
"Yeah—Batman. I'm thinking maybe he needs a new batmobile or something—something expensive, you know? Or maybe a new suit," I replied sarcastically.
"And…where is the money coming from for all of these…expensive things?" the Joker asked, licking his lips and raising his eyebrows. I hadn't expected him to say anything to me. Oh well.
"From the money I have saved up from working for Batman—where else? You think I'm wasting my time robbing banks and ATMs? Nah—no, no, see, I've gone further than that—I've graduated beyond that—when you want something, you have to go to the source. You should know that, Mr. J. Take what you want and when you're done, dispose of it…clandestinely," I stated.
"Are you still going to say you know who batman is?" Pixie asked finally, placing her hand on the Joker's shoulder.
"Oh I do know who Batman is—but I'm not about to reveal his identity to you clowns—not until I get what I need from him," I responded. "It's really too bad you all missed out on it though—it would have really all put you on the map as high rate criminals—but I guess it looks as though you just screwed yourselves by being all secretive," I chuckled.
"And what is it you need from the…Batman…Giada?" the Joker asked, giggling at the thought of this. I knew he was nervous at this conversation, but he couldn't very well show it to the others—it would dampen his reputation as a high rate criminal.
"All that you are not willing to give," I spat back at him. Not wanting to see his reaction, I turned around and left them all behind me. I walked out of the alley and made my way quickly back to the apartment, knowing very well he would not be coming back there. Barely able to breathe, I climbed my way to the top of the building and made my way to the roof.
When I was finally alone, I removed the picture from my clothes and gazed at it through sad and longing eyes. Why couldn't he just love me? Why couldn't he just let me be a part of his life? Why must he continually hold me at arms length? I just sat there on the roof and let the tears finally fall from my eyes.
"Giada, is that you?" Batman asked from behind. Startled, I jumped and turned around to face him.
"You scared me, Batsy," I chuckled, wiping the tears away.
"Did he make you cry?" Batman asked.
"It's just everything—I just am not sure what to do anymore. I'm putting on this façade that I know who you really are—but I don't want to know who you are—I am just saying it so that maybe the Joker will want me to work with him again. He's conducting all of this business without me when he said he wanted us to work together. I am just so lost and confused," I explained.
"Fair enough—but you're crying? I never thought Giada DiMarco would be one to cry over the Joker," Batman responded.
It was at this point when the Joker realized that I was up on the roof talking with Batman. He decided abscond from the apartment and make his way up to the roof to listen to our conversation.
"Yeah, I know. *I lay alone awake at night, sorrow fills my eyes, but I'm not strong enough to cry despite of my disguise," I replied, gesturing to my ridiculous costume and makeup.
"I'm left with no shoulder, but everybody wants to lean on me. I guess I'm their soldier," Batman retorted.
"But who's gonna be mine?" I asked, looking at the photograph of the Joker I still held in my hand.
"Who's there to save the hero?" Batman asked.
"When she's left all alone and she's crying out for help…" I continued, still looking at the photo longingly.
"I bottle all my hurt inside," I said finally.
"I guess I'm living a lie," Batman responded.
"Inside my mind, each day I die. What can bring me back to life?" I asked.
Batman took the photo from my hand and showed it to me and responded, "A simple word, a gesture—someone to day you're beautiful," I smiled, thinking of what it would be like to have the Joker tell me in all seriousness that I am beautiful.
"But who's there to save the hero?" I asked Batman, taking the photo back from him.
"Who's there to save the girl when after she saves the world?" he retorted. I smiled again back at him.
"I've given too much of my self and now it's driving me crazy. I'm crying out for help. Sometimes I wish someone would just come here and save me; save me from myself*," I said finally.
Batman remained silent for moment. It felt like days before he finally spoke again.
"Giada, I know how much you love the Joker and I also see how much it's hurting you—I think it's best you let it go. You are only doing yourself damage. As much as I feel the need to save you from this, I know it's not something I can do for you—you have to find it within yourself to save yourself—either that or hope that Mr. J will save you from yourself," Batman replied.
"He won't save me—nor should he. I did this to myself. He can't help the fact that I've been absolutely infatuated and in love with him from the moment he first spoke to me. He gets me—he can't help that, nor can I. I would just do anything to hear him say it—every now and then he might do something or say something that might allude to his love for me—or whatever he may feel for me—I do know he feels something—but to actually hear those three words, I think would just about make me the happiest person alive," I stated.
"He does feel something, Giada—that I can attest to—but no one will ever know what it is! I don't even think the Joker knows what it is himself!" Batman exclaimed.
"You're probably right—but I've come this far, I just feel like I can't give up now. I've done so much work and gone through so much to be with him," I responded.
"How much more will you endure in order to hear him say and mean those three words, Giada? Do you have to be on your death bed? You've already been in the hospital because of him—"
"No—that was not because of him! Harvey shot me, remember?!" I exclaimed.
"Before that—your bleeding hand and open scar wounds," Batman replied, taking my left hand in his—the hand I had punched the window with.
I glanced down at my hand and removed the glove from it. The scars were pink in color—still somewhat fresh.
"I did this to myself on my own accord—to get him out of County—I couldn't think of anything else at the time. He and I…we don't come up with plans. We improvise," I clarified.
"You improvise. The Joker plans—he's been planning these past couple of weeks-and without you, nonetheless! Giada, I just don't want to hear about your death—or will that satisfy you? If he tells you as you are dying?"
"No, it won't satisfy me at all," I responded quickly. It was true—I didn't want to die over this bullshit. I just wanted him to come and save me—tell me I was beautiful—that he loved me.
"I think maybe I'll just…" I began, but Batman had already gone. I hated when he did that! "Never mind," I sighed and turned back around to face where I had been gazing prior to Batman's interruption.
As I sat there staring at the Joker's photograph, the Joker sat behind the steam pipe that protruded from the roof top. He had gone up there to spy on Batman and I—to see what our conversations were about, but he didn't get any kind of conversation he was expecting at all. I sat there, dumbfounded. He knew I cared for him and perhaps he had lost sight of that over these past few days—he certainly had lost sight of it within himself. As he sat there, he felt the tingling inside him grow. The fact I was sitting so close by to him made him feel things inside that he hadn't felt since he had given me the pendant. He knew it was a feeling that I knew how to feel, but just didn't know how to say it. The closest he came was when he gave me the pendant.
The Joker took in a breath and silently stood to his feet.