Hello everyone! I've got a special long chapter update. Definitely an interesting one, especially at the end. ;) So please read through and review! You don't know how much I appreciate your feedback and favs/follows.

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"You bullshit it all before, now, you trying to sell me more, babe

Man who makes a beast out of himself got nothing to lose
Sold my soul long ago, nothing left to choose
I'm tired, tired of singing the blues
I'm tired "

- Lana Del Rey "Tired of Singing the Blues"

I could still vividly remember the night I hunted down Donnie.

The heated argument that ensued, the wrestling, the knives, the blood splatter. It's true what they say, you never forget your first kill.

I recalled waking up in my own bed after he had injected me with the mysterious liquid. And I would have thought the whole ordeal a bad dream had it not been for the deep ache in my neck.

Rubbing the tender area, I lifted myself from my mattress towards the hallway bathroom. Standing before the mirror, to my horror, a bluish-purple bruise was forming. The sudden impact of the needle flooded back to my memory.

Everything had been very real.

Shortly after that, I was dressed and out the door. I remember feeling everything at once. Anger, sadness, despair, curiosity, hate. I felt hate the most. He betrayed me in a worst way, altering my body forever. He had no right. He took advantage of my unconditional love and made me into an unconditional doormat. It was becoming harder for me to believe he ever cared at all.

The stride to his home is still a little fuzzy. Probably because I spent most of it in shock, brooding over all the things we had shared and would never share again. I had no real plan other than to confront him as to why and what he had done to me. I couldn't deny that I still loved him, of course. Something like that doesn't just go away.

However, that didn't detract from the disgust boiling at the pit of my stomach.

Reaching the entrance to his home I found his front door unlocked. Despite being absolutely mad, Donnie was able to maintain a relatively normal suburban life. He had his neighbors fooled into thinking he did some innocent desk work at the laboratory. That he joyously handed out candy to children around Halloween and sat at a round table with all of his family on Thanksgiving. Or erected a Christmas tree with popcorn and lights, opening presents from those whom he held dear.

Donnie pulled the wool over their eyes, but not mine.

I remembered closing the door as silently as possible behind me as I advanced into the oddly dark home. The moon was almost full that night so I used what silver rays peeked through his windows to follow his trail into the kitchen.

He stood there, with a glass of half empty wine at his fingertips, tapping. The rage inside me grew at how casual his silhouette appeared. As if nothing had happened between us. As if he hadn't just cut and pasted my life to fit his own design.

My fists clenched, "Donnie."

I couldn't see it, but I sensed he was smirking. All the marbles in his jar, lost. "Olive, you seem well."

I flipped the light on to see he had turned to face me. "No more games, Donald."

"Hmph." he thought aloud. "You only call me Donald when you're mad."

"Ya think?" My left fist grazed the counter top.

He held his free hand up in front of him. "Olive, just think. You don't even know what's been done to you."

"That's why I'm here!" I seethed.

Donnie cradled the glass between his fingers. "You are now a scientific wonder. Our golden ticket, sweetheart."

"Screw your golden ticket!" I slammed my fist down with animosity. He had made me some kind of freak without my permission.

"Our." He tried to correct me.

"No, your!" I began to weep as both of my hands met the counter top. I suddenly felt everything I was living for was a lie. "How could I have been so stupid?"

"Olive, baby." He slimmed his way over wrapping an arm around my waist. "Think of the wonders you can do now. The amazing gift I've given you."

His breath was hot on my ear as I felt myself systematically relaxing under it. Then I realized he had a hand reaching for something beyond me. My eyes grew wide when my reflexes faltered to prevent him from gabbing my left wrist.

Hovering a knife over it, he boasted, "Let me show you just how special I've made you."

I screamed as he brought the knife down at an angle against my pale wrist, slicing backwards. To my horror I watched a red liquid trickle on to the linoleum. My head whirling with so many questions that I'd never get answers to. My body cringing into his tall frame.

"Look, Olive!" he shouted. "Look!"

My vision was blurred by hot tears streaming down my face. I was truly terrified by the events that had unfolded before me. By how quickly you think you know somebody for two years only to wearily conclude that you must have always been on their roster of guinea pigs.

"Olive!" he shouted again.

I looked this time. I looked and saw that the blood from my wrist had slowly stopped emerging from the open wound. I gawked as the painful cut began to heal itself. It was like watching someone rewind a movie reel and in that moment I could feel nothing but wonderment.

It was fascinating the way the skin receded in on itself. Yet, something about it made me feel inhuman. Like one of those things where you see it happen to someone else and think, it's not so bad. It can't be as terrible as they think. But when it happens to you, it's unbelievable. You think, how could this have happened to me?

This posed so many more questions but my heart was filled to the brim with rage. In one quick motion I swiped the knife from his hand and stabbed him in the shoulder. I had had enough.

He retracted from me, surprised. Good. I wanted to be unpredictable.

Grabbing another knife from the holder I turned to throw it his way. I only caught a slice of his neck but it was enough to make him understand that I did not share his dreams. Not anymore.

"Bastard." I cursed under my breath, reaching for another sharp utensil.

"Now, Liv, listen to me." His hand was on his neck.

But I had made up my mind, I could never forgive him. He had become the unforgivable so I threw another his direction, catching his forearm he out stretched. I was quite good for an amateur.

He was calling out declarations of love and how much he was only thinking of our future. How sorry he truly was…but I was already seeing red. If throwing them wasn't doing the trick, I'd grip one so tightly and jam it repeatedly into his soft flesh.

Which I did, seventy-two more times.

When my father had eventually arrived, since I had called him, I remembered how his face distorted into repugnance then tenacity as he gazed upon Donnie's dead body. Hearing out my cries of why I had done it and what he had done to me convinced my father to pledge that if he had known, he would have killed him himself. That's when my father decide that becoming a crooked cop was better than watching his little girl go unjustly to jail. They'd never understand the way he did.

So he called in a select few from his office to handle the situation discretely. Made Donnie's death look like an accident.

"He had too much too drink and fell asleep with the cigarette in his hand. A few minutes later, the whole place went up. His consistent work must have made him extremely tired." He told the news.

And it was all believable, every word. From the alcohol content in his blood to the nicotine on his lips, the toxic report was flawless…with minor changes. Donnie's body had burned for about an hour and half before other police were notified. When the autopsy was preformed the first report noted he had multiple stab wounds. The report that Joker had somehow gotten a hold of. The second and final report stated he had died an accidental death.

My father had paid the mortician off well.

I can recall dreading turning on the t.v. only to see Donnie's story haunting me from the colored screen. They painted him a humble, suburban man who loved liquor and cigarettes a little too much. I was surprised most people were satisfied with this untimely end. Nobody question what I was up to or even who I was for that matter.

Had Donnie not spoken of me as much as I thought? It just felt like another nail in the coffin.

Then three days later, I received the news that I still believed was karma for what I had done.

I had locked myself in my room the last three days that Donnie's face was all over the news. Pretending like I was still grieving. That's when the phone call arrived. My father had been out doing his normal duty patrols. Perusing around town.

This was something that was routine for his line of work. He had been doing it since my parents were married. Albeit, even when my mother left, he still did it. All he wanted out of life at that point was to protect his only child.

However, this particular night ended tragically. I can still envision the call.

"Hello?" I answered nervously, knowing that it was the station calling.

"Miss Pendragon?"

"Y-yes, this is she."

I couldn't see the officer on the phone but I could sense his frown. "Miss Pendragon, I'm calling you with some bad news…your fathers had an incident."

My breath hitched, "What do you mean?"

"Well…" he seemed very reluctantly to tell me the truth but it was his duty after all. I was the only known kin. "Your father, well, he…well…he's dead."

Running my tongue over my teeth I could remember how they clenched trying to prevent the tears from spilling over.

"What?" I asked, breathlessly.

"I'm sorry Miss Pendragon. I need to ask you to come down to the morgue to identify the body. Just for clarification."

I couldn't stand another word, so I hung up. What did they mean dead? My father had been an investigator for twenty years. How could this have happened?

Regardless of my insides screaming denial, I made my way to the morgue. They told me their mumbo jumbo about how it was a suicide and asked me if there had been any other recent troubles at home besides my mom dipping out. I argued, denying that my father would ever kill himself over such a petty thing and that they must be mistaken. Though they assured me thoroughly that the evidence they had found concluded he had pulled the trigger.

And if it wasn't for this little tid bit of documentation in front of me, I might have believed that for the rest of my life. That the guilt of covering up Donnie's murder had become too much for him.

Scanning my eyes over the paperwork again there was no doubt what had really happened.

I was glaring into the abyss of the hallway, my whole body shaking. I was all too familiar with this fury and right now, I had to make a decision. I could slip back into Lady Eliza's condo mulling over a better course of action or I could meet that asshole tonight to set the record straight.

I glanced down at the sleek box laying on the ground. The contents inside of it hummed to me. Gripping the gift, I stood up and turned a heel away from the burlesque queen's abode. I was going to finished this tonight.

It didn't matter anymore what was to happen. My father had been murdered because of me. I was foolish to have ever involved him. I should have just let myself rot in Blackgate.

Not that I actually could.

I chuckled to myself, taking the elevator down to the main floor. It wasn't always like me to find humor in such deplorable things. Ever since I met The Joker my sanity seemed to slip away from me piece by piece. It was like shedding a second skin as a reptile would. Slowly leaving my old self behind.

Although I'd been teetering on the sane and insane for some time after the events of three years ago. Angelo had been my only saving grace…but not anymore.

Despite being told that this was a "safe" place I managed to walk out of the building surprisingly with ease. I had wondered if the guards I saw all worked for the Clown Prince fully knowing this is what Joker was anticipating. The final straw to break the camel's back.

Not even ten minutes later I found myself standing very still in front of Angelo's club. It must have been almost two in the morning by this point but a few lights were still on. Angelo would definitely still be here.

I opened and discarded the black box of balisongs after placing them halfway into my thigh-high stockings. Then with a deep breath I pushed open the double doors to the club. The first person to greet me was none other than my faithful bodyguard, Arnie.

He looked a little startled, "Miss Butterfly?"

I gave him a hard look, "I need to speak with Angelo. Where is he?"

The buff man eyed the folder within my hands, seemingly catching a glimpse of something else. "You need those to speak with him?" He pointed to the new balisongs lining the rim of my right stocking.

I gave him a look, smirking, "I always carry knives, Arn."

"Nothing like that, ya don't." He countered. "Where'd you get 'em? What happened to the old ones?"

He was really trying my patience. "Where is Angelo?"

"Answer the question, Miss Pendragon."

"Why?! You haven't answered any of mine!" I inched my left fingers towards my blades. If he wanted to dance, we could dance.

Immediately he detected this and made the mistake of lunging for me. I quickly side stepped him using the back of my heel to jam into his knee, bringing him down to them. In the same motion I wrapped behind him coiling a butterfly knife at his throat. He may have been burly but I was small and lithe.

All of the self defense I had learned while I was here had definitely paid off. I didn't want to feel like a victim anymore so Angelo took it upon himself to teach me how to fight. I'm even sure I learned a few moves from Arnie himself. Each of Angelo's top henchmen had a different set of skills.

Not throwing knives, however. That was a skill I refined on my own.

The two other guards that were with Arnie started making their way towards me. I pressed the cold steel against his skin. "Come any closer and I'll slit his throat!"

The guards didn't seem to heed my warning and instead, drew their guns. I laughed, "You and I both know shooting me won't do any of you lugs any favors."

I heard them cock their guns and I prepared to run my blade clear across Arnie's jugular but a loud voice halted the action.

"Hold it!" It was Angelo himself, escorted by another set of guards. The henchmen lowered their guns.

He looked absolutely bewildered at the scene before him. "What the hell is going on?!"

I kicked Arnie face first onto the floor. He made a nice thud. "I want to talk to you."

Angelo stood a few feet away from me now, folding his hands in front of him. "Why? What's up? Why aren't you at the condo?"

I felt my hold on the folder tighten. "I need to talk to you…now."

All four henchmen's shoulder stiffened, ready for round two. Angelo waved a hand at them. "About what?"

"This!" I let the folder flop inside my shaking fist as I held it up.

Angelo's eyes seemed to grow dark. "What is that, Olive?"

"To me, it was a gift." I tilted my head and rolled my jaw. "For you….well…."

This caught his upmost attention. "Step into my office."

The henchmen seemed reluctant to let me through but Angelo promised them that everything would be fine. He could take care of this.

I wasn't so convinced.

When we reached his familiar office he asked for his men to wait outside. They went to protest but he silenced them with just one, mean look. "I don't tell you how to take care of your family. Ya gonna come in here and tell me how to take care of mine?"

Of course the answer was no and they backed off. Angelo sat at his desk as I closed the heavy door behind us. I slammed the folder down in front of him, retreating away. He just stared at me.

"It's funny how you called us family." I remarked.

"You are."

"I'm not. Not anymore." My voice shook, threatening to crack.

"You don't want to do this, Olive." He said, a forewarning in his tone.

"Look at it." He attempted to argue but I was having none of it. "Look at it damnit!" I was pointing to the file.

He huffed as he opened the folder, skimming through it's contents. I could see his expression turn very grave as he continued. My heart pulsed with adrenaline. I wanted to right the wrong that was done to my father. For him and me.

"Where did you get this?" Angelo asked in a drawn out mumble.

"You wanted it too, didn't you?" I avoided his question.

"Where did you get this, Olive?!" His voice had risen.

"Did you pay them off, Rouse? Did you?!"

Angelo jumped up from his chair, "Like your father paid them off!"

"This is different!" I yelled back. "You knew he was my father this entire time!"

The tall man made a grimace before swiping a fist against his desk. He propped himself at his window with both of his fore arms leaning on either side of the sill. "That goddamn clown."

I paced myself forward. "Tell me," I calmly stated. "tell me all of it."

Angelo turned from the window, running a hand over his scruffy chin. "Alright." He finally agreed. "Donnie wasn't one of my men but he'd work for whoever could pay him well." He rested against the front of his oak desk. "I've got a lot of birdies, as you know, and one of 'em told me about this serum Donnie was working on."

Angelo's hands became very animated. "I mean, imagine, a nearly perfect antidote to death! A serum that could make a guy like me unstoppable."

Quite frankly, I could actually imagine it. He saw the distain in my face. "Not to you, Olive. You're a good girl. That's why it happened to you."

I crossed my arms, "Go on."

He looked sadden by my disinterest in his compliments. He sighed, "Welp, we offered Donnie a profit for a cut of the antidote. The greedy son of a bitch didn't even think twice. Even though most of his funds came from clown face." Angelo shook his head. "Needless to say, a few days later Dr. Freud turns up dead."

I raised an eyebrow, "And?"

He was hesitating to tell me but eventually did. "And well, we could tell everything had been meddled with." He looked me dead in the eye. "And you know I don't like meddlers. I gave Donnie a lot of money that I'll never see again and that's losing out on a profit. I'm not kind to people who fuck with my business."

"And what do you think The Joker would have done had he found out sooner that you were meddling in his business, huh?"

Angelo pointed his index at me, "By the time that freak figured anything out it wouldn't have even mattered. He'd have had his dose of the serum by then. Why the fuck would he care about what happens after that?"

The disgust I was feeling before reemerged, "Because it's stealing."

The tall man in front of me laughed, "Stealing? I think that's up for Donnie to decided."

I stayed silent, waiting for him to finish. "Anyway, I got ahold of the old reports and the new reports. Put two and two together and linked it to Detective Pendragon. You're father." He held his hands before him. "I swear to you, Olive, that I never would have guessed he was protecting you. I didn't know anything about you! Or what Donald had done. In your father's last moments he stuck to his story that it was him that murdered Dr. Freud. He took the fall."

I could feel my face distort as I tried to hold back the tears. "How could you even look me in the eye?!"

Angelo looked taken aback, "How could I look you in the eye? Liv, that's why I took you in!"

"Bullshit!" I screamed.

"It's not!" He yelled.

"I can never forgive you." I shook in a dangerously low tone. Then I went for the door, ready to leave. I learned all I needed to know.

In a fit, he grabbed my arm and tugged me back. "You ungrateful bitch!"

I reached for a knife with my free hand, slicing at him. It only caught his cheek as his other hand twisted my wrist. The balisong clunked to the carpet. He pinned me to the paneled wall.

"You think that clown's gonna take care of you? Huh? Have you seen what he's done to Dr. Quinnzel? You want that kind of life, Liv?!" He spat in my face, holding my arms down.

"It has nothing to do with him!" I raged.

"It has everything to do with him!" As he was roaring back I took this opportunity to knee him in the balls. An under handed move, I know, but I was done with his patronizing. I was doing this for me, not Joker.

Angelo collapsed backwards into his rectangular desk. I smoothed out the hem of my dress and shook my summer locks about. He appeared to be heaving quite a bit.

I leaned in to whisper, "This is good-bye, forever."

And as I stepped out of the room to leave I heard Angelo say smugly, "You'll regret it."

No, you will. I thought, brushing past his henchmen. I grabbed my long peacoat I had left there earlier and kept a confident stride all the way to the exit. Arnie wasn't on the floor anymore when I passed by. I assumed they probably had him at the bar, tending to his wound. I did feel a little bad.

Maybe one day I'd make it up to him.

It was almost three and I found myself seated at the counter of the nearest diner, a coffee between my fingertips. The older waitress seemed to understand that I was under some kind of duress. She had beckoned me to the counter with a pot of coffee in her wrinkled hand.

"The first ones on the house, honey." She winked a tired eye.

I thanked her, appreciative of the small comfort she offered me. I sat for what felt like hours at her counter replaying everything in my mind. It was still pretty hard to grasp that Angelo was the one who murdered my father. To stomach to think that from day one he knew whose daughter I was. He even listened to me tell the terrifying tale and how my father was basically my savior with a straight face.

I finished my first cup and ordered another. When the old waitress set my coffee down I started to feel an unusual vibrating from my coat pocket. Confused, I slipped my hand in, pulling out a phone.

This phone wasn't mine but someone was calling it. I never really owned a phone after I joined Angelo. I never really needed one.

I noticed the waitress looking at me expectantly. To avoid being suspicious, I answered it. "Hello?"

"My, my what a scene we've got here." A familiar voice cackled. "Angelo's seen better days, I'm sure. But what would a freak like me know?"

I instantly knew it was Joker but I couldn't say it out loud. "What do you mean?"

The voice turned dark, "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Then he hung up.

I was trembling so hard I couldn't even manage to drink my coffee. I hurriedly excused myself and ran out onto the street. From where I was standing I could see red and blue lights flashing in the direction of Angelo's club. My heart stuck in my throat.

What had he done?

I wasted no time running towards the entrance of the club before rounding a corner and stopping dead in my tracks. A small crowd had gathered around the main side of the building. It appeared to consist of police, reporters, and a few passersby.

When I inched closer I witnessed a gurney being wheeled out of the night club, the arm of the body hung lazily off to the side. There was no mistaking that specific Rolex. It was definitely Angelo and he was definitely dead.

My hands covered my mouth as I back away from the growing buzz. The initial shock was washing over me and yet, as my eyes tried to focus, I could feel a sense of justice looming in the shadows of my brain. I was sad but I was happy.

I recognized that he had taken care of me for the last three years but I also came to terms that it was his own doing that I even had to be cared for in the first place. My thoughts combatted each other like this for a few more seconds before nulling each other out completely, and I felt nothing.

My fingers lowered to my sides as my face took a more monotone expression. The presence that now waltzed steadily behind me snaked a hand in mine placing an object inside it. Without looking, I traced my fingers over the handle just as I had done in suite 208. It was a butterfly.

A venomous breathe tickled my ear in what I could only visualize a devious, painted grin.

"Changed your mind?"