Suddenly, the car came to a screeching halt, Arella let out a squeal, almost hitting her head on the dashboard as they sat in the middle of the street, cars honking as they swerved around the heavily tinted windows in an attempt to avoid collisions with other vehicles that had been displaced by the interruption.
"Are you cr-" She cut herself off mid shout, realizing how stupid it would be to call him anything short of fantastic right now. Clenching her mouth shut, she placed a hand to her woozy head instead with a groan.
"Oh Ella, Ella, Ella." He said in a lighthearted tone, turning towards her with a dangerous grin spread across his face as he completely ignored the fact that they were in the middle of the street. "And here I thought we were in for a good night." He said shakily, reaching out and lacing his hand in her hair, twisting slightly.
She cringed, her eyes shutting with a tired sigh, her brows knitting together in frustration. That probably wasn't the best way to start. She realized that now. But she hadn't expected that strong of a reaction, and was too tired, too angry to be sorry right now. The only emotion that registered right now was annoyance.
"Don't you want to enjoy yourself? Hmm?" He tilted his head at her, sucking his cheeks before his voice lowered angrily. "Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick you out of the car and let you walk." He growled, squeezing her hair tightly.
She let out an angry growl. "So either kick me out or let me finish." She snapped at him, annoyed. She was in no mood for his mood swings tonight. The way she saw it, he could either help her, let her do it on her own, or kill her. Either way, she didn't care.
He tilted his head even further with pursed lips, his brows raised in surprise. He waited a split second to see if she would apologize, but she only glared at him with a fierce expression that he had yet to experience. One that momentarily shocked him out of his own anger.
Something really had snapped inside of her. And for once, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd gotten angry too quickly. She wasn't stupid, never had been and he supposed that maybe she did have a reason for the sudden request. If it wasn't a good one, though, he just might kill her.
"Make it fast." He growled, loosening his grip, though not removing his hand from her hair.
Sighing, she forced herself to calm down, her eyes flicking away from his face for a moment before continuing, trying to make the description as brief as possible. "He was working with the man that took me. I want to kill him."
He frowned slightly, studying her face to figure out if she was telling the truth, but her gaze was unwavering. "Who told you that-ah." He snapped.
"He did. Right after he showed me how you carved him up." She said accusingly.
So that was it. He thought to himself, his frown deepening as he ignored her accusations. Shawn was what he had missed. The one who had caused this whole detour. It wasn't often that he underestimated someone, and it was a mistake he didn't plan on making twice. He should have killed him himself that night that seemed so long ago. That thought angered him, that someone so insignificant could mess up what he had spent days planning. Especially someone that he cared so little for. He would take her to his house. Because he wanted to watch him die. And more importantly, he wanted to watch her do it.
Letting go of her hair, he finally grinned. "Well why didn't you just say so?" He said with a giggle, turning around and shifting the car back into drive, peeling into the streets.
She flashed him an annoyed, unseen glare before relaxing back into the seat. Her eyes pressing closed in sheer exhaustion. How she was going to make it through this night, she wasn't sure. But there were some things that had to be taken care of before she lost her chance.
The Joker glanced at her as he drove, taking in her appearance. She looked physically ill not much unlike those first few days she'd been locked up in the hospital. But she wasn't the same person. Not by a long shot. She wasn't timid, afraid, or victimized even after everything she'd gone through…everything he'd done to her. There was strength right now that even in her weakened state drew him to her. He should be paying attention to the road, but he couldn't stop glancing over at her with a lust that excited him. He couldn't wait to get her back but this was a welcome detour.
For a long time, he had been angry with himself as he tried to figure out where she was. Angry that he'd gone through with everything. But now, he wondered if it had served a purpose. She seemed unmoved by anything aside from a burning need for revenge. The one emotion that he could understand.
Either way, he was still angry about how badly his toy had been treated. He was the only one allowed to break her. She was his.
Scowling, he reached behind the seat, rummaging around through the mess of discarded bullets and garbage in the backseat that he never bothered to clean out. Muttering to himself, he finally found what he was looking for: a half empty water bottle that he tossed into her lap.
"Drink it." He grumbled, not bothering to look over at her as the scowl remained. "Ya ain't killin' anyone if ya pass out."
Her eyes fluttered open, grabbing the bottle gratefully and not hesitating to down what was left in the bottle. She didn't care about what had happened to that first half. It didn't matter when it had been days since she'd had a decent drink. Downing the drink in a few quick gulps, she let out a relieved sigh, letting the empty bottle fall onto the floor lazily as she felt back into the seat. She couldn't wait to sleep.
When they pulled up to the expensive house, the Joker parked beneath full trees, a giddy smile on his face as Arella stirred in her sit, fighting her desire to sleep now that she was safe.
They both climbed out without a word, the Joker gesturing for her to follow him to the trunk of the car to prepare for what was the most exciting night he'd had in a while. There was nothing that needed to be said. She didn't want to waste the energy on talking and he was far too excited to bother her. Nothing to risk her changing her mind.
He gave a happy hum as he opened the trunk, letting his eyes roll over the near arsenal he kept with him at all times and waiting for her to grab what she needed. She settled on a small pistol and an impressive size knife before they made their way into the house through a side window.
Storming up the stairs and down the hallway, the Joker practically skipping behind her as he hum an annoying song to himself, Arella finally reached the familiar bedroom. The one that she'd spent her last night of normality in. The one seemed so blissful at the time, but she now knew was a giant lie. With a frown that almost perfectly contrasted the Joker's giant grin behind her, she pushed the door open.
Shawn jumped and spun around from the suit case lying open on the bed, half filled with meticulously folded clothes. He looked like he was dressed for some sort of business with a button down shirt and crisply pressed khakis. His red hair gelled back into a swoop. His eyes immediately grew wide as he stare as the disheveled pair, darting from one face to the other in complete shock.
For a split second, he looked truly sorry, like he might apologize for everything. But he was nothing if not consistent.
"I knew it." He said almost in disbelief, a shaky finger pointing at her accusingly as he backed up to the bed. "You are working with him." He paused before turning to the Joker. "So what, did you come to finish the job?" He looked at him accusingly.
The Joker let out a giggle. "Me? No. I'm just here to enjoy the show." He held his arms up in an innocent shrug, flopping down in a nearby chair and placing his fists under his chin expectantly.
Arella cast him an annoyed side glance. She was glad that he'd taken her on this detour, but she also wished he'd shut up.
"What did you do to Demayo?" He demanded accusingly. As if she had been the one responsible for his fate. Sure she'd stabbed him, but she'd been pushed into a corner.
"The same thing that I'm going to do to you." She said angrily, pulling the gun from its hiding spot and pointing it at him.
The Joker let out an audible smack of the lips in displeasure from the corner of the room. He'd much rather watch her pull out the knife and show him what's what. But he wasn't about to stop her. It was better than nothing.
Shawn stepped back shakily as he eyes the gun. "What the hell are you doing, Ari?" He held up his arms slightly, unsure of how much danger he was in. He hadn't been privy to her last six months of isolation and torture. He had no idea what it had done to her mind. But he was about to find out.
"Killing you." She said simply. "I just want to see you grovel first."
She was surprised at how easily the words came out. She felt nothing. No sympathy, barely an anger. Just sheer exhaustion and a cold seething that seemed like it would never go away.
"Grovel?" He said, looking at her in disbelief. "You're nuts if you think I'm groveling for anything. You deserved everything you got. Look at me." He pointed to the scars crossing his face.
She didn't bother to respond to his tirade. He was clearly being unreasonable. Pulling the trigger, she hit him squarely in the left knee and sent him howling to the floor in a crumpled heap.
At the side of the room, she could hear the Joker giggling and clapping in excitement. He truly was having a good time. If she kept this up, they might not make it back to the hospital before he pounced on her. Exhaustion be damned.
Arella glanced over at him with a quick, unseen side eye. Between the two of them, the noise was starting to drive her crazy. Part of her wanted to just get it over with. But she didn't want to waste the opportunity. The sound of Shawn's screams turning into angry accusations brought her full circle.
"You crazy, fucking whore! I knew you were a mistake. You always have been." He cradled his busted knee as tears came to his eyes.
Though she had mostly been in her own world, operating in a haze of tiredness, the sound of his angry shouting mixed with the Joker's hysterical laughter made her blood boil as she thought about how jerked around she'd been for the last few months. Everybody that she'd come in contact with had their own agenda. Everyone had tried to use her…to twist her like she was simply some pawn in a sick game. It was infuriating. Even more so was having her trust shattered by everyone that she'd come in contact with. People that she'd spent years assuming were on her side. Years being wrong.
Pressing her eyes closed and letting out a slow breath as a last ditch effort to calm herself, something finally snapped.
"I'm not…crazy." She said through gritted teeth, trying to control the primal shout that wanted to come out. But it was no use. "I'm fucking pissed off!" She yelled at him, tossing the gun to the side carelessly as she pulled the knife out instead.
"You self-centered, psychotic, jackass." She yelled at him as she advanced, gripping the knife so tightly that the handle began digging painfully into her palm.
She wasn't sure which one of them she was yelling at right now. And it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was angry and out for blood.
"Do you have any idea the kind of hell I've been through these past few months? And to top it all off…you think you have the right to kill me just because you can? Just because you're pissed off about a couple of scratches? Are you fucking insane?"
She swung the knife blindly in the air as he held up his arms in surrender, trying to block her advancement. A second howling scream left his throat as blood began to seep from his forearm.
In the corner, the Joker had finally stopped laughing, his previous humored grin turning into a contemplative frown as he sat up straight in the chair, listening to her tantrum. He was quickly beginning to realize that this wasn't all about Shawn. And as she unleashed all of her anger on the man in front of her, he couldn't decide how he felt about that. Especially with insults she was throwing around.
"Okay. Okay." Shawn held up his arms in defense, as if completely forgetting that the blood dripping down his arm now was due to the same movement. "I'm sorry. Ari, I'm sorry. Come on, you know me." He said desperately, begging now.
"Don't even bother trying to apologize to me." She growled, dropping onto her knees so that she was straddling him. "And don't you dare think that those few times meant anything. You don't mean anything to me and you never will no matter what you might think you spoiled, pathetic child."
Shawn was shaking beneath her, looking up at her with wide, fearful eyes. "This isn't you, Arella."
She turned up her nose, finding his fear disgusting. " 't. know me." She growled at him before lowering the knife in a quick swipe across his throat. His begging quickly descending into watery gurgles as blood seeped out of the wound.
Arella stare at him for a while, not bothering to move from atop him as she waited for her anger to quell. Standing with a heavy sigh, she stare at the lifeless body with a cold indifference that scared her. More though, was the fact that she wasn't satisfied yet. She was still angry, and looking up at those pitch black eyes glaring at her with pursed lips as he chewed the inside of his cheeks reminded her why.
He raised a brow as she finally turned around, his stringy green hair as he took in the scene before him. Finally, he smacked his lips together, still studying her.
"Anything else you wanna get out?" He said slowly with an annoyed, nasally tone.
She set her mouth into a frown, her hand flexing around the knife. She was aware that he knew she wasn't only yelling at Shawn. It was painfully obvious. But she figured he would let it go. Now that he'd brought it up, though, maybe it was a good thing. She did want to talk and it was his fault that she was choosing now to do it.
"Yes." She said shortly, returning the dangerous glare. "You tried…to kill me." She said slowly, her eyes narrowed at him accusingly. Her free hand remained balled into a fist at her side as her shoulder remained thrown back defiantly. She knew that she looked crazy, it had been days since she'd been able to change, take a decent shower, or eat a proper meal and she was once again had stray blood splatters splayed across her clothes. But right now, she was happy for that, maybe he'd actually take her seriously.
His eyes narrowed to match hers, unmoving as he took in her accusations. Tilting his head slightly he finally answered. "Sure about that, cupcake?"
"Don't play games with me." She yelled at him with an angry growl, her tightening again around the knife again. He had to know that she was truly in no mood for his playful aversions. Not with the week she'd had. "I saw it."
"Saw what?" He snapped. He had done a lot to her over the last few months…doubly so over the last few weeks. And he'd take responsibility for all of it. But he had yet to try to kill her despite the painful urge that arose every now and again. And he didn't appreciate being accused of it. Not at all. It made him want to strangle her.
"I saw you blow up the police station. I told you that I didn't call them. I tried to get back to the hotel and you still tried to fucking kill me." She said angrily, he eyes not removing from his. She could tell that he wasn't reacting well to the situation, and she knew that this confrontation could be her last. But she was prepared for that. She was beyond done submitting to his every whim.
"What's your point-ah?" He said slowly, his voice shaking with anger as he finally stood, his gloved hands balling into fists to match her own, his shoulders unconsciously pulling up to his ears.
"My point, is that if you want to kill me so bad then go ahead and try." She growled, pressing her lips together and blowing a breath out of her nose as she forced herself to calm down enough to continue. The built up anger forcing her chest to shudder in heavy breaths. But she kept the knife at her side, not wanting to make the situation worse by threatening him.
"Don't you dare hide behind a bomb. You owe me that much."
The corners of his mouth twitched into an angry frown as his head tilted nearly fully to the side, taking a slow step towards her, all traces of humor long sense gone from his voice as he settled on a low gravelly tone. She'd be lying if she said it didn't scare her.
"Let's get one thing strait, Arella, I don't…owe you…anything." He said through clenched yellow teeth, each word coming out slow and labored as they stood across from each other, glaring at the other with every ounce of hate in their respective bodies. Both hesitating to move closer because they were aware of what would happen. Someone was going to die. An invisible line had been drawn in the sand.
He gnashed his teeth together as he took another step, crossing the line that told her things were about to go badly for both of them. Ignoring her hand as it clenched around the knife he tried to physically control himself, moving closer to her until he was towering over her and dwarfing her as she glare up at him with what had to be an uncomfortable angle.
He was trying to intimidate her into backing down, she could tell, even after he had attempted to kill her. It was infuriating and he owed her an apology…at the very least. But she wouldn't try to raise the knife to him to force it. Not like she had with Shawn. It didn't stop the strong urge to stab him though, especially not with the feel of his hot breath on her face as he continued.
"The only reason that you still breath-ah right now is because I…let you. But the second that you stop being such a delight." He said with a brief mocking grin, strained against the frown that eventually pulled it back down. "I will kill you." He said with a nod, leaning down so that their faces were only inches apart, his eyes narrowed as chose his next words carefully to echo her own. "Because you. Are. Nothing. You will never be anything to me except a toy. And whenever I'm done with you, which shouldn't be long at the rate you're going, I will enjoy every second of watching the life drain from your pretty little face. A bomb will always be too good for you." He sneered, breathing hard as he glare at her.
Her eyes narrowed incrementally as she glare at him as the words hit her with a pain worse than when he'd stabbed her. At any other time, she may have broken down into tears, but she maintained her composure. There probably weren't any left after the last week anyway.
"Then be done with me." She said coldly, her eyes challenging his. "Isn't it time for you to find the next girl anyway?" Her voice cracked at the last word. She hated that she couldn't hide how completely hurt she felt. But she could bite back.
"You don't get to die until I say it's okay." He growled. "Things don't get to make demands."
"You know," She said slowly, her shoulder's squaring off with his albeit much lower. "For someone who wants anarchy so bad you have a lot of rules. What's wrong? Can't stomach it yourself?" She taunted
He tilted his head to the side, in complete disbelief as he could feel the anger boiling over. Who did she think she was? After everything he'd done, after he'd saved her tonight out of the kindness of her heart and took this completely unnecessary detour. Here she was staring at him with those judgemental eyes…daring him. He'd gone so easy on her in the past few weeks. But now that he thought of it. Maybe she was right. It was time to get rid of her.
"I don't have to." He started, parting his lips into an angry sneer, his gloved hand shot up, catching her by the neck with a tight grasp and forcing a yelp from her throat that was quickly choked off under his tight grip.
"Because you follow each and every one. Just like a perfect little pet." He gave her a false grin, enjoying the fear that was slowly starting to take over in her expression.
"But you know what happens to pets that misbehave….hmm?" Leaning closer to her ear, he licked his lips. "They have to get put down." He answered his own question.
She finally panicked, lifting the knife clenched in her fist to defend herself. But he quickly grabbed her wrist, twisting it roughly and forcing her to drop it with a grunt. She was crazy if she thought trying to stab him would ever work. But she had nothing else. The days of no food had taken their toll and her adrenaline was waning.
Opening her mouth, she finally tried to apologize but nothing came out aside from a hoarse whimper as she tried in vain to take a breath, her hands coming up to claw at his exposed wrist.
The movement did little more than irritate him even move. Growling, he shoved her onto the bed, straddling her and wrapping his second hand around her throat, taking full advantage of the leverage as he pressed harder against her neck, relishing in her squirming, ignoring the pool of tears that were beginning to accumulate as she silently fought for air. It felt long overdue.
Beneath him, Arella's chest was tightening painfully as she finally realized that he truly wasn't letting up this time. She was going to die here, right next to Shawn. Her head was aching, and her chest felt like it was about to explode, but the only thing that was registering to her at the moment was exhaustion. She was so tired. And maybe it was about time. She'd made them pay…all of them. And now rest was more than welcome.
Letting her hands fall away from his, she relaxed in the bed, trying to drift away to her happy place. Maybe the night before she'd been caught by the police. Or the complete relief she'd felt killing Shawn. It hurt. But she knew that it would stop soon. It would all stop. Letting her tear stained lids open sleepily, she took in his angry expression, her peaceful composure faltering for a moment before she shut her eyes again tightly replaying as many happy moments in her mind as she could think of. She didn't want to die feeling anything but calm. Her heart beat quickened as the sense of calm eluded her for what seemed like forever. But as the weakness started to overcome her, it returned. And finally, she relaxed.
The Joker's hair hung in sweaty rings over his forehead as he looked down at her, perplexed by her lack of movement even as her lungs spasmed in involuntary bids for breath. He thought that she'd beg. That he'd see some sort of request in her brief glance. But there was only a resigned sadness that made him angry. The absolute silence in the room aside from his shaky breaths mocked him, reminding him of just how anti climatic it felt to have his hands wound tightly around her throat, squeezing the life out of her with every passing second just like he'd always wanted to. Killing her was supposed to make him feel good. Not like he was doing her a favor and definitely not like he was kicking someone when they were down. Where was the fun in that? He wanted her to fight back and this…well this was just wouldn't do at all.
Growling, he leaned down so that his lips were only centimeters away from her ear.
"Fight back, Ella." He growled lowly, loosening his grip just enough to let her take a desperate gulp of air.
Arella's eyes shot open, letting out a terrified whimper as the small allowance of air brought her back from the brink of consciousness, forcing her body to fight for survival even when she was unable to. As her air was cut off again all of the pain was renewed and any hope of an easy, simple affair slipped away.
"Stop." She mouthed, wishing she could actually get the words out as she reached up, clenching his wrist tightly in a weak attempt to pull away. She did want to die, at least she thought she had. But it wasn't worth all of this.
"Fight back." He growled louder tightening his grip, unsatisfied by her weak protests. He wanted to enjoy this but she was making it hard.
As she could feel herself beginning to lose focus again, she could feel something else return in its place. That thing that had kept her around for so long. That had helped her live under the joker's thumb for months and survive being kidnapped so many times. The will to survive. She would live.
Giving up on trying to pull his hands away, she finally remembered back to the many self-defense classes and laced her arms between his, pushing violently outward. It wasn't enough for him to let go, but he did lose his balance, and that was all she needed right now. If he wanted a fight then she'd be more than happy to unleash some of the anger she'd been holding in all this time. Maybe he'd finally quit playing games and get it over with.
Ignoring the deepening frown that crossed his face as he moved to tighten his grip again, she reeled her arm back and punched…managing to connect a tight fist with his throat.
The sound of her fist making contact with his skin was insanely satisfying. She wanted more.
"Oomph." The breath left through his mouth with a sound that sounded like a mix between a wounded dog and a growl as he pulled away from her, not bothering to guard himself against punches two or three as she choked on the sudden rush of air, trying to scramble from under him as his thighs pinned her in place. He let out a slow, dangerous grin as she squirmed.
Now he could kill her.
Reaching down to grab her throat again he wasn't sure how he missed it, perhaps he was so caught in the moment that he forgot to actually begin blocking her attacks, but it was only a split second before her fist made contact with his crotch that he noticed the blow coming. And the searing pain that shot up through his abdomen told him it was too late.
The grin on his face suddenly disappeared with a pained growl as his hands shot forward to guard against further damage, his body finally moving off of her and falling onto the bed.
Flexing his jaw, he spit out a small amount of blood, ignoring her as he stare at the ceiling with a low growl. It had been a long time since she'd attacked him and he'd almost forgot how good of a right hook she had. Sucking in his cheeks as he waited for the pain to subside, he thought about all of the ways he was going to make her pay as soon as he felt like moving.
Arella coughed, trying to return her breathing to normal; curled up on her side as the air burned her throat, letting her know that the pain she felt right now would persist for days.
She should run. It's what any smart person would do now that he was practically incapacitated if only temporarily. But now that the immediate danger was open, her exhaustion had returned full force. Even more importantly was that she had absolutely no desire to. Here was just fine. Here in this comfortable bed where both ignored the other, stuck in their own heads as they tried to recover from their most recent bout. A round that she'd won for once. Despite her incessant coughing and wheezing, she'd won.
Three days.
Three days that he'd spent trying to figure out where his toy had been taken because of plan that had gone wrong. His plan to test her loyalty. And now that he finally had her back, things had been broken in two minutes over a misunderstanding and words that were admittedly much too harsh and even worse, not true. He supposed he could have just said no. But he wouldn't apologize. He never did and he wasn't going to start now. Even if she did always look at him with those eyes. Those wide, guilt inducing brown eyes.
Pausing, he passed a cautious peek to his left, wondering if she was, in fact, throwing those glances his way. But, much to his surprise, instead of the same sadness he'd seen a minute ago, he was met with a wide grin upon her face as she relished in his pain. Glancing to the other side, he was met with Shawn's cold, lifeless eyes still lying on the floor where she'd slain him. And finally, he threw his head back, beginning to laugh hysterically. Immediately finding the humor in the situation. He loved when she showed absolutely no fear. It was refreshing. And even still, she hadn't bothered to try to reach for the knife only a couple of feet away from her to try and kill him despite the ending that Shawn had received. She had a funny way of showing that she cared. It was absurd that he was getting off so much lighter than Shawn which was absurd. But he enjoyed absurdity. And that alone was enough to put him back into a good mood. Maybe she'd had enough punishment tonight.
Her grin turned downwards into a frown at the change of emotion. Annoyed that he was enjoying any of it. For a long time, his shrieking laughter filled the room before he finally began to quiet down, looking up at her with a lazy grin.
"Feel better, dear?" His tone returned to normal, light despite the dull ache.
"Did you try to kill me…at the station?" Slower this time. At this point, the point was probably moot. But she couldn't leave the question alone after everything it had caused. To not answer it would mean that all of this had been for nothing. She should be scared. It had been an insane move. But glancing around at Shawn's lifeless body and the Joker's makeup where she could make out the imprint of her fist, she felt nothing short of powerful.
"Ya see." He started, pushing himself to a sitting position with a grunt, using one hand to wipe the green curls from his face. "Now there's the question you should have been asking." He wagged a finger at her, licking his lips. "I mean…I like a little drama every now and again. But drama…is all about timing." He turned to look at her with a scrunch of the nose. "And yours stinks."
Truthfully, he found the situation beyond amusing and the timing was impeccable. Had she not taken the shot, she would be dead right now. And he didn't want that. Not yet at least. He preferred this pain to any semblance of guilt or anger. And as exemplified by the body next to him, even after everything he'd done, she hated Shawn so much more than him. He was getting off light.
"Did you?" She asked again sternly. She was becoming far too familiar with him to not demand a straight answer.
"Always so serious." He scrunched his nose at her before deciding they he was over the argument. They'd had enough excitement for the night. "No." He said slowly.
She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes pressing together in relief. If he hadn't been trying to kill her, then maybe for once he'd actually been trying to help, a kindness that she'd only ever received from him. It was frustrating to know that everyone else in her life that she'd trusted had let her down and it'd taken a mass murder to rectify that. Maybe it was her, the one common link between it all. And maybe, she'd never been quite as sane herself as she tried to pretend to be.
Feeling her eyes well with tears, she brushed them away, sitting up in the bed slowly and looking around the room tiredly. Sniffling, she brushed them away not wanting to look at him or Shawn. She had never imagined it would be the case, but even after having so coldly and callously dispatched of both the "business man" and Shawn, she couldn't keep up that same level of apathy around him. Not only did he see right through it, he understood.
"Can we go?" She muttered, embarrassed by the whole event. All she wanted to do was go back to the hospital now and curl up in their bed to forget the entire last week. Especially tonight.
"Not sure if you deserve it after that little...outburst." He waved one hand in the air, picking up the discarded knife with his free hand, bringing it up between them as he stare at her for a long uncomfortable moment. His mouth chewing his cheeks as if deep in thought.
Arella avoided his gaze, keeping her eyes trained on the bedspread as she tried to wait patiently for his decision. Inside she was panicking. It would be nice if he let her go, sure. But maybe when she wasn't so tired. She wanted to go back to the hospital. Back home. And get some rest before thinking about going anywhere.
"But…" He continued with a smack of the lips, standing suddenly and pausing to stretch until he heard a satisfying crack. "Lucky for you. I'm a little too tired to make many more decisions tonight." He waved the knife at her, teasingly in lieu of a finger. "I mean…I'm sure it was nice to lounge around for the past few days but some of us have actually been working." Reaching past her with the knife, smirking at her flinch, he wiped the blood off on the comforter and examined it before sliding it back into his pocket.
Holding his arms out, he shrugged with a wide grin. "Let's see how we feel in the morning, hmm?" With that, he started out of the room with far too heavy steps.
"Move it." He snapped back at her.
She hesitated, rolling her eyes before standing without a word and following him out.
She hadn't been asleep for long-she was pretty sure of that-when she was jolted awake by the sounds of screaming and squealing tires. It took a second for her to recognize the scream as her own but the sound of sirens and gun fire brought her to attention.
"What's going on?" She shot up in the seat, looking around frantically as her mind tried to desperately make sense of all the bright lights and sounds. The road whipping by at breakneck speed.
He let out a shrieking giggle, driving with one hand and using the other to click a fresh magazine into place.
"Looks like a party." He barely looked over at her as he grinned, turning to shoot a few rounds out of the window.
"Are those the cops?" She looked at him finally.
There was no answer as they squealed around a corner, the car nearly going up on two wheels.
She screamed again, her body being thrown to the side and painfully hitting the door handle. Cringing, she straightened up, looking back over her shoulder to count at least six police cars following them.
He didn't seem to notice her body flying around the car, twisting his head out of the window to shoot off another round and laughing hysterically when one of the cop cars veered off the road running into a light pole. This night was just getting better and better.
Her eyes widened as she watched the car explode immediately thinking about the precinct that had exploded just a few days ago. Thinking about the police that had so carelessly mistreated her in their efforts to get to him. Sure, they were probably frustrated and they had a reason. But she didn't care.
Looking around in the backseat, she came up empty before turning to him. "Give me a gun." She demanded.
He ignored her, ducking as the sound of return fire pinged off the side of the metal vehicle. The nerve of the police. It seemed to irritate him as his demeanor changed almost instantly. Swerving around another corner, he grabbed a second gun from beside him and grunted as he removed the safety.
"Get on the floor, Ella." He growled, not bothering to look at her as he pointed the gun out of the window again.
"But I can help." She said desperately, looking over her shoulder at the flashing lights.
She shouldn't have questioned him. She knew that. But there was nothing like a few days away to make her forget.
With a deep frown, he reached out, gripping her tightly by the back of the neck and forcing her nearly down on the floor face first.
She let out a pained cry, trying to twist her body away from him but he refused to let up until she slid to the floor in the most uncomfortable position possible. Once he was content that she wasn't moving, he turned back out of the window, shooting a much larger gun towards their pursuers causing a second car to spin out of control and hit another.
Arella sat curled up on the front seat floor quietly, aching to make the police pay herself but she knew that he wouldn't take kindly to her moving a muscle, especially when he needed to pay attention. The constant swaying of the car was nauseating and the occasional ping terrifying, but he maintained a calm-if not highly annoyed-expression the entire time setting her at ease as she gripped the seat for stability.
Finally, after a few tense minutes, the sounds of sirens began to die down, moving further and further away. The sounds all but disappeared as they drove into a large parking structure, looping around the circular aisle before finally pulling whipping the car haphazardly into a spot.
She looked up at him as he turned the car off, expecting his grin to return now that they were safe, but he still wore a deep frown as he hopped out of the car, slamming the door behind him without a word or any indication of what she should be doing. He was angry. She could tell that much from the absolute silence the rest of the trip had been spent in and she didn't dare ask what they were doing, so she simply unballed herself from the floor, groaning as her muscles screamed in protest.
"Move it." He shouted at her from outside the car, opening the trunk to grab a heavy bag, wincing at he threw the weight over his shoulder.
She glanced behind her before opening the door and scurrying out of the car following him to another non-descript black car parked a few spots over. It was cold as she walked to the car, but she barely felt it in her adrenaline fueled haze as her eyes darted around the garage to try and make sure that they weren't being followed.
Pulling out a second set out keys, the Joker silently threw the bag in the backseat of the new vehicle before slamming the door shut. His highly agitated expression doing everything to hide the extreme pain he was in at the moment.
"Here kid." He called in a calm, overly nasally tone as she headed towards the passenger side. He could already feel the blood seeping through the dark parts of his shirt and knew that heat would be his enemy. They were far away from the hospital and lowering his body temperature was one of the few hopes he had. Slowly shrugging the coat from his shoulders, he tossed the heavy material at her before holding up the keys. "You're driving."
She caught the coat easily, quickly pulling it on and taking the keys from him. She was dying to question why but he still looked extremely annoyed despite his calm voice so she simply walked briskly around to the driver's side, climbing into the car.
It had been six months since she'd driven anywhere and he'd never even considered letting her get behind the wheel before. The prospect did excite her, though. So as he climbed into the passenger side, flopping heavily into the seat. She turned the car on and wasted no time backing out of the spot.
"I don't know where I'm going." She muttered softly as they squealed around the circled ramp of the garage; him sitting quietly next to her with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Letting out a slow exasperated groan, he muttered something unheard to himself before reaching into the glove department and pulled out a cell phone, slowly dialing a number and holding it up to his ear.
"Where the hell have you been?" Came the angry answer after only the first ring.
He twisted his face into an annoyed frown, sucking on his cheeks slowly. "Why?"
"Two of the men stopped at Lucky Ladies after the job and the cops followed them back. All of the cops."
The sucking stopped as his hand tightened around the phone, trying hard to remain calm. The last thing he needed was his blood pumping any harder. "And?"
"And the hideout is gone. I made it out with some of the men and most of the cash. But if you're heading there now you need to turn around."
"Did Doc make it out?" He questioned through gritted teeth, feeling himself start to get lightheaded from the blood loss as the approached the entrance of the garage and he gestured for her to turn right.
"Yea. Of course. We're all headed to the second location."
"Fine. Give her directions." He said finally, shoving the phone towards Arella even as he could hear Dougie questioning through the receiver.
"Hello?" She said, flashing the Joker a confused gaze as she put the receiver to her ear.
Dougie wasted no time to start laying into her. "What the hell. Are you driving? Why the hell are you driving? What have you done?"
"Nothing." She said with an annoyed purse of the lips. "And you're asking the wrong person, I just need directions."
"Where are you?" He ordered hurriedly.
"10th and 5th heading north towards 11th."
"Take a right on 13th and head towards the midtown tunnel. Take that out of the city." He snapped, deciding that he had given her more than enough directions to change the subject. "Now what's wrong with him?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." She said with an annoyed growl. "He just-" Turning her head to look at him, she stopped, noticing that he had leaned back in the seat, his hand clutching his side tightly. It was too dark to see that blood clearly, but she could see that wet liquid reflect in the moonlight every now and again.
His eyes raised slowly to meet hers as they drove, a smirk that came across more as a grimace crossing his face that suddenly looked so much more tired. He opened his mouth, presumably to make a bad joke about the situation before cringing and deciding against it.
She stare at him, horrified for a moment, jerking her eyes back to the road. Now it all made sense.
"He's been shot." She said simply.
"How bad is it?" Dougie questioned after a short pause, his self-important tone giving away momentarily to genuine concern.
"Bad enough to let me drive." She said, annoyed at the dumb question.
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "Put me on speakerphone and put me on the dash, you just need to get here and get here fast."
"Okay." She said shakily, placing the phone on the dash as instructed and speeding up. Glancing over at him after a couple of seconds.
"How bad?" She questioned lowly, hating the idea of Dougie listening in.
He gave her a slow side glance, smacking his lips together. "Been worse."
She knew that he was lying. Could tell by the way he grimace as he spoke as if each word pained him. The blood seemed to be flowing readily despite his grip on the wound and she knew that at this rate, his time was limited.
Pursing her lips, she swerved into an alley way, slamming on the brakes and placing the car in park.
"What are you doing?" Dougie shouted from the dashboard.
"Shut up." She growled at him, fishing around in the coat pocket for a knife and ignoring his subsequent shouts.
"You can't just keep bleeding all over the place." She muttered lowly to him, finally pulling a knife from the pocket and using it to slice scraps from the cleanest parts of her shirt.
He gave her an annoyed look but didn't protest aside from a pained groan as she pushed his arm out of the way and shoved the pieces against the wound to try and soak up some of the blood as quickly as she could.
"Oh Ella. Didn't know you cared." He said shallowly with as large a grin as he could muster, letting her know that he was making fun of her at this point.
She rolled her eyes, pressing the last scrap into place. "I don't." She muttered, shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the alleyway.
He let out a short breath that served as a replacement for a laugh but was silent as they continued the drive to the new hideout with Dougie giving occasional directions.
Luckily, they avoided trouble for the rest of the way out of the city and through desolate flatlands that made Gotham look like an island in a sea of nothing. And finally, after what felt like forever, the small ramshackle building came into view on the horizon.
Arella barely had time to slam on the brakes in front of the dilapidated old garage before Dougie, the doctor, and two other goons swarmed the car, her heart beating in her ears as her shaky hand rested anxiously on those greasy curls draped over the arm rest. His body doubled over in the seat the same way it had been after she'd applied the scraps of fabric to the wound, his right arm crossing over his side to cradle the wound on his left side. And even though his face was turned away from her, she knew that he was unconscious. He hadn't moved, hadn't uttered a sound since she 'd hung up with Dougie after the last direction a few minutes ago. She was too nervous to ask him to respond, knowing that the silence would be too much to take. So she nervously kept her hand planted in its spot. Pretending that it was doing anything to stem the blood loss.
"What took you so long?" Dougie growled at her, barely offering her a second glance as he ordered the men around to the passenger side of the car behind him, yanking the door open and moving aside so that the doctor could gain access.
He gave a passing glance into the car, frowning before placing two fingers into his exposed neck. "There's a lot of blood, but there's still a faint heartbeat. Get him into the room. Quickly." He ordered, moving out of the way to allow the other two access.
Arella watched them nervously, feeling a heavy since of relief that there was still a heartbeat. She had to be crazy for bringing him back here. But she did, because she knew that there was no other option. She had to bring him back even though she knew what it meant. She was going to be stuck here at best if he survived and probably murdered if he died. But she came back, because it was where she felt safe despite the impending threat of death. She hated him. Would always hate him despite how comfortable she felt with him. But at least here, she knew where she stood. What was expected of her, and what the consequences would be. Death didn't scare her anymore. Right now, it was uncertainty.
They were in the middle of nowhere. For miles, all she could see were flat, overgrown fields, dirt roads, garbage strewn about. The small, abandoned, four bay garage with the tin roof was the only thing that rose more than five feet off of the ground and aside from the panicked chatter of the men, the rustling about the car, and the running engine, the night was clear and quiet.
As they pulled his limp body from the car, completely ignoring that she was there, she finally came to her senses, grabbing the bag of weapons from the back seat and tucking one under the purple jacket over her shoulders that shielded from the cold night air. Even though he still had a pulse, she knew that she would be in danger until he woke up, if ever. Dougie could care less about her and she wasn't sure what he'd allow to happen to her now that it was clear he was in charge.
Leaving the car running, she jumped out, racing quickly after the men as one goon held his legs, one rushed in with his hands hooked under the Joker's arms, and the doctor maintained step beside the limp body his fingers steadily on his right wrist as he kept record of the so very faint pulse while Dougie led the entire group inside without a word. Her eyes remained steadied on his face, looking for any sign of movement, but there was nothing.
As Dougie held the door open he watched them enter before turning back to Arella as she ignored him, about to enter behind the others. He frowned, grabbing the handle and pulling it shut again so that they were both outside, cut off from the bustle, cut off from him.
She stopped short, blinking at the door confused for a moment before turning to glare at Dougie, the frown on his face telling her exactly what he was trying to tell her. An anger began to rise inside of her, wanting to unleash on him for blaming her. She didn't shoot him, and she didn't have to bring his cold body back. If anything, he should be thanking her. But yet, here they stood,
"You've done enough." He snapped at her. "Go away."
She hesitated, breathing hard as she looked towards the door trying to imagine what the doctor was doing right now, wondering if it was too late anyway. If he was dead, there was nothing in there for her. If there had ever been. Glancing back towards the running car, she weighed her options. She could leave, and finally be done with all this. Just like she had dreamed of since the first day at the museum. She could leave, and pick up the shards of her life in an attempt to reform it into a misshapen semblance of living. But though that sounded so incredibly tempting, she knew that it would never happen. There wouldn't be enough pieces left, and most importantly, somewhere deep inside, she knew that the desire wasn't there. She could have left when he'd been shot. Could have not called him at the mob bosses house, could have attempted to run so many times over the past few months. But she never did, and she knew now that it was never for lack of opportunity or fear. She didn't run because she was stuck here, this is where she wanted to be. And she'd be damned if Dougie of all people took that away from her.
Letting out a slow sigh, she turned back to Dougie who was still glaring at her, his arms crossed against his chest as his frown gave her an unspoken warning. But she'd never been afraid of him or his threatening frowns, and she wasn't about to start now.
"No." She said simply, pasting a frown on her own face to match his.
He tilted his head at her slightly, as if in complete disbelief. She was absolutely infuriating. He was able to control every man in this operation, with barely a raised voice, but because of the strange situation that he had put them in for the first few months, he knew he wouldn't have the same luck here, and it angered him. But since he couldn't be angry at the man who caused it, she was going to get the brunt of it.
"Are you an idiot?" He accused, uncrossing his arms as he stepped closer to her. "I'm giving you the chance to walk away now on your own two feet. So you can either take that invitation, or I'm dragging your body out myself."
She shuddered, pretending that it was because of the chill in the air. But her gaze didn't falter, and she didn't move from her position near the door. "Then you're going to have to, because I'm not going anywhere." She said quietly, glaring at him.
As the words left her mouth, a tense silence descended between them, with only the soft sound of crickets providing an awkward respite in the night. The headlights from the car being the only light for miles causing harsh, jagged shadows to cast on each of their faces. And in that moment, an unsettling realization came over her.
He had won.
She had thought him crazy when the first conversation transpired. That there'd be no way he could ever make her want to stay. And yet here she was. Fighting to get back in. He had been meticulous. Calculated beyond her wildest imagination. He had been able to twist her every doubt despite his campaign of terror until she needed him. He was able to do it because he knew her. He'd always known her. Where she'd come from, what made her tick, and who she was. He was the only person that knew her from that time in her life. And now that she realized it, she also realized that it would probably mean death for her sooner than she thought. With a heavy internal sigh, she realized that it didn't matter. She was too involved now.
Dougie gave an angry snort. He had no patience for her right now, not with his childhood friend possibly dying in the next room. None. Especially not for someone that should have died months ago along with everyone else in the museum. Years ago if he was being technical. He'd never admit it to either one of them. But he remembered that night as well. Members of the mod didn't take kindly to being told what to do by a teenager, even if he was one of the boss' favorites And that's what Dougie had told him when the story was relayed to him later when they laughed about the story. But that was always the case, Dougie being the more cautious of the two. And the same night that had given her her own life back, had been the beginning of the end of His. At least for the person that he was before. And Dougie wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive her for being so stupid. Especially since here she was, making the same mistake.
Setting his face in a determined frown, he uncrossed his arms, storming towards her. Up until now, he had hesitated to harm her because it was what he wanted. But now that he was indisposed, he had little reason to care. He could explain her disappearance away easily.
Arella's eyes widened as he came closer. In all honesty, she hadn't expected him to follow through with the threat, but looking at his expression, she could tell that he had every intention to. Letting out a gasp, she spun on her heels to run, but she was too slow. A hand grabbed the collar of the heavy purple coat she was wearing, yanking it back towards him so hard that she fell to the ground, landing hard on her backside as her hands shot up to clench around his forearm, her nails digging into his flesh as she twisted away from his grip. She screamed, one that came out more as an angry shout. She knew no one would help her, and right now she didn't want it, she just wanted to hurt him as much as she'd been hurt over the last few days.
His mouth remained in a frown, yanking his arm away from her grip as he went for the coat again, trying to pull it from her shoulders. He was going to kill her, would enjoy every second of it, but he knew that doing it in the coat would be a mistake. Explaining her away would be easy, getting blood or bullet holes in the coat would only make it that much harder.
But she fought against him, even as the coat moved from her shoulders down to her arms. Twisting around, she let out another screech. Using her free arm, the one that he wasn't trying so hard to yank from the sleeve, she reached out, punching him hard in the pants. Sending him howling away from her, his hands coming to his front to cradle the wounded area.
Flashing him a quick glare, she scurried across the ground away from him, trying to rush towards the door. If he was going to kill her, he was going to have to do it in front of everybody. In front of the Joker's men, in front of the doctor. She wasn't going to go away easily.
Dougie seemed to come to his senses quickly, rushing after her and grabbing the tail of the coat, yanking it backwards. With another yelp, she finally shook her arm out of the sleeve, deciding that she didn't need it. All she needed was to get away at any cost possible.
As the thick coat came off, and a wave of cold air rolled across her dirty tattered shirt, she suddenly remembered that she had shoved a small handgun in her waistband. The metal that had previously been warmed to her body heat turning chilly in the cool air. Glancing, over her shoulder as she paused on her hands in knees, she could tell by the way Dougie's expression had changed that he had noticed it too. They both froze for a second, wondering who would be able to get to it first.
He was the first to try.
Dropping the coat onto the ground, he lunged towards her again, but she quickly rolled over away from him. Lying on her back as he hovered over her, she quickly pulled the gun from it's hiding place, pointing it at him as she breathed hard.
Dougie froze, no more than a couple of feet away from her. "You're not going to shoot me." He said simply, glaring at her angrily.
Her face remained steely as she breathed hard. Clearly he didn't know the hell that she'd gone through for the past few days. Lowering the gun slightly to aim at his arm instead, she pulled the trigger, the sound resonating loudly in the clear night. Almost loud enough to drown out Dougie's surprised shout as he jumped back, his hand lifting to cradle his right bicep. Before turning to look at her with a surprised glare. Blood beginning to seep through his fingers.
"You crazy fucking whore." He said with a mixture of anger and disbelief. She couldn't blame him though, these days, she sometimes surprised herself.
"I'm going in there." She said simply. "Don't make me kill you to do it."
Before Dougie could reply, the door slammed open revealing two of the Joker's goons, guns at the ready. Guns that faltered when they saw who it was. Thought the Joker was indisposed and Dougie had every intention of killing her, the others were still unsure of how to react to her. Instead they looked to Dougie for direction.
He glanced at her before turning back to the men.
"Let her through." He said with an annoyed snarl. He'd love nothing more than to have them shoot her, but neither one of the men would have enough gumption to cross him that way and he didn't feel like having to kill the men in order to keep them quiet. He'd let her through for now, and in the meantime, try to figure out some other way to kill her. Quietly.
Arella didn't move for a long moment, wondering if Dougie would just have the men shoot her in the back as soon as she turned around. But aside from killing all three of them, her options were limited. Besides, Dougie's tone seemed more angry than plotting, so hopefully he wouldn't consider it until she had disappeared.
Pushing herself up off of the dusty ground, she kept the gun raised, backing up carefully so that she could keep an eye on all three. Though no one moved, the just looked at her as if they couldn't believe what she was doing.
"Excuse me." She said quietly but sternly.
They moved out of the way without a word to stand closer to Dougie, still eyeing her in shock. But she didn't care, she had other places to be, with one last glance, she slid through the open door behind her, rushing to the back when she was sure that she was out of sight of the confused men. The interior of the old shop was nearly empty save for an old couch, a rickity table, and an old television set playing softly in the background. Two more of the Joker's men turned to look at her as she walked briskly through, but she disappeared into what used to be the office area before they could react to her presence.
The doctor's bushy brows knitted together as she allowed the door to slam beside her, letting out a sigh of relief upon entering the small area.
"Get out." The doctor turned his attention back to the body splayed across an old table.
Her eyes followed his to take in his terrifyingly still figure. His clothes had already been hastily cut away and bloody tubes crisscrossed his bare chest as the doctor's delft fingers focused more on getting the wound patched up. Her mouth slacked at the sight, shocked at how serious the wound really looked from here. The metallic smell had taunted her in the car the entire ride over here, but she had refused to look over and truly assess the damage. Maybe her fight to get into the building truly had been for naut.
"Hey." The doctor's gruff voice broke her from her musings. "I'm trying to work here. Run along and play with your dolls or something." He taunted, not bothering to look up at her as he reached over to a nearby tray and grabbed a set of tweezers.
She clamped her mouth shut, setting it into a frown and straightening her posture trying to make herself look larger than she felt. "Tell me what you need help with." She demanded, crossing her arms stubbornly.
He raised a brow, glancing up only briefly before turning his mouth into a frown to match her own. But he didn't respond or bother to try and kick her out again. Just focused on the task hand. Both of them knew that time was of the essence right now and there was little time for arguing.
Arella slid her teeth back and forth for a moment, taking a brief inventory of the bare, dusty room with furrowed brows before flopping down on a hard wooden chair near a dirty single bed and uncrossing her arms, the gun being set on the bed as a warning. She wanted to help if for nothing else than to keep her busy. But she wouldn't push the issue. Not when she was in such a vulnerable position.
The feel of tapping on her thigh caused her to jerk her eyes downward, ready to defend herself against the intrusion. But she quickly realized that the sensation was caused by little more than her own hands shaking uncontrollably and belaying just how terrified she was right now.
'Stop it'. She stare at the foreign objects. But they were stubborn. So with a tired huff, she simply clasped them together tightly, resting them in her lap and lowering her head to pretend like she didn't see the doctor's disdainful glare.
Three days locked in the business man's room had kept her wide awake and thirty minutes ago, she'd been looking forward to a well needed rest. But it was clear that the nightmare was far from over. Shifting the chair slightly so that she could see both the doctor and the door, she let her head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, feeling her eyes flutter immediately. Maybe a few minutes of sleep wouldn't be a bad idea.
******I said two weeks, but sometimes I'm a liar. I'm really busy these next couple of weeks/weekends cause of vacations and stuff so why not go ahead and get it out early? Right? Also, this is my favorite chapter so far and I couldn't wait to get it out there. Hope you like it as much as I do!
Reviews are greatly appreciated...and wabi-sabi1090, you rock my socks off. :)