Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, DC does.
A/N: (*hides in wardrobe*) Oh, great. I haven't updated in more than three months! I hope no one wants to destroy me right now! (*hears almost 4,000 people yelling*)
Thank you for reviewing, KingofHeartless'09 and Lady Cocoa. And LC, for some reason, I both expected and...did not expect you to type that.
Why is he keeping me alive?
Bonnie bit her tongue.
Well, he's probably just lying to get inside your head, she thought, scolding herself. You know that he's not going to give you an actual second chance.
Then again, Harley Quinn liked to press the Joker's buttons, and she hasn't died yet. It helped that everything she saw downstairs—what with the hench-woman talking back to the man unscathed—looked like it might have happened before. But even then, Bonnie realized that their relationship was not like any other one the Joker had—if he had ones at all—and Bonnie definitely wasn't ever going to be held with enough regard to be kept alive for as long as Harley. She couldn't
Either way, their relationship was still...different, but Bonnie took a safe guess that Harley didn't do anything to make him angry when they first met in Arkham.
On the other hand, the only things that she certainly knew about her was that she worked at Arkham and became the Joker's accomplice after several months. She could have learned more from the news and those criminal documentaries that were always on, but she stupidly decided not to.
Bonnie sighed. She really should have watched the news more. It saved her neck about 80% of the time, since it told her everything she needed to know about Gotham before she went out at night to light places up.
She sighed. The girl knew that there was nothing she could do about it now. She wasn't bitter, but she knew that her days were numbered. Besides, she'd be whining if she called herself bitter, but she was also reminding herself of her angst way too often, and...
Just read your book, Bonnie, she thought, interrupting her rampaging train of thought, and make sure you that remember what fantasy is from reality, because you've been looking at that silhouette for three minutes, and it's probably just a mind trick.
"Don't worry about me, kid. I'm just a part of your imagination."
That wasn't! thought Bonnie.
Her insides going cold, the girl tilted her head up to see the speaker. Sometimes, she had no idea why he was so interested in her.
"Sorry about dear Mommy downstairs. She already apologized," the Joker purred, with a carefully hidden meaning that was enough for Bonnie to brush off.
She nodded when the Joker peeked over her shoulder to see words that would have made a certain rogue bounce.
"Oh, poor Hats. Probably blubbering in his cell about the beloved loss of his novel."
"Doctor! My limited edition of Through the Looking Glass is gone!"
"I'm sure it's around in your cell somewhere. You do take good care of your novels."
"Thank you, Dr. Leland. However, I. Need. This. Somebody must have stolen it."
"I don't think anyone stole it, Jervis. But at worst, you could have left it at Jonathan's."
"BUT I DIDN'T!"
The Joker's snickering turned into minor fits of laughter. Bonnie was stoic to them.
The man wiped a tear off his face. "Okay, Rings, I have something to show you."
Seizing her hand, he proceeded to drag her out of the room. Bonnie struggled to keep up with the Joker's swift pace, with the girl's feet being far behind the upper part of her body. The more she tried to stand straight, the more he pulled her like a rope from Tug-of-War.
They were out of the hallway in seconds. Downstairs approaching, Bonnie finally found the chance to slow down with the Joker. It was not long until the man sped up again after the last step.
The girl fumbled to a stop at the far right end of the 'family room'. Mumbles, whispers, and conversations were heard on the other side of the door. The Joker put his pointer finger up in the air.
"Wait here. Don't touch anything," he commanded. Bonnie didn't even have to look at him to tell that his smile slipped off, and his voice had a sharp edge to it that reminded her of Beatrice.
The Joker opened the door to the other room and stepped inside.
What happened? Did I do something wrong? Bonnie's brain was scrambled for a moment. Who's on the other side?
Probably the henchmen, another voice in the back of her mind drawled. The ones that you unsuccessfully tried to hold off?
THEM? I can't deal with them right now! the other part of her mind yelled. I mean, I can keep quiet outside here, so...maybe they won't know that I'm here...
The aggravated part of her mind, which faintly sounded like an older version of herself, snorted, I'd hate to give you an anxiety attack, but he's going to bring you in there. So do yourself a favor and actually accept what will happen to you here. You're going to die. He's getting bored of your stupidity.
Bonnie's neck was strained, but she whispered to herself, "Okay."
The door shifted. A hand popped out of the opening, grasped Bonnie's hand, and wrenched her into the room.
Stumbling, Bonnie immediately arranged herself to match the position she was in before. The room before her held a round, dusty table and two red couches that contrasted the gloomier walls. The biggest feature in the room was the fact that six people were in front of her.
Bonnie's chest gave a hitch when she saw the henchmen. The majority of them gave varied stares at the girl, except for a large man that gave ping-pong glances at her and his newspaper.
"Folks, this is the kid. Make her feel at home, and be nice." The fluctuating, energetic tone returned to the Joker's voice, but there was a shift in his eyes and a way that he gripped the girl that screamed warning signs to the men.
Bonnie, however, thought that his words were a euphemism for her death.
"Be nice?" hissed that cynical part of her mind. Yeah, you're going to die, Bonnie.
The Joker left the room, giving the boys a finger gesture to himself, and then to them. Giving them an innocent smile, he shut the door.
Bonnie felt a shiver at the curt door slam, freezing in front of the other men. As she looked around, she saw that they were still looking at her back, and they seemed to all be giving her emotionless glares that never blinked. She knew why they were, so she secretly hoped that they wouldn't torture her for too long for what happened at the orphanage.
They weren't looking at her for all of the reasons that she presumed, though some of them were.
The blonde goon and the man with a woolen hat—Kenny and Clubs—drove nails into her with their glares. This was the kid that humiliated them at the orphanage, and now the boss wanted them all to give her company? It made no sense to the two! After all, didn't the boss originally say he was going to "take care of her"? That was the most obvious euphemism for death that could have been used in this line of business, and she hasn't died yet! The implications of her demise were right there! So why the heck wouldn't the boss make up his mind on whether he wanted to kill her or not? And why did he need this kid, of all people?
On the other hand, twins Ace and Spades gave Bonnie simply shrugged at the girl's presence, for they simply wanted to focus on their jobs, per usual. Besides, they hadn't seen her at the orphanage when they raided the place, so they didn't hold any grudge towards her for nearly escaping the gang.
Another man, with other feelings, examined the child. He remembered going to the orphanage raid to get the girl, but he only saw a flicker of her body when he told the boss about the Batman's arrival. But when he said the poor kid like that, he couldn't help but feel a little pity for her. It was true that he shouldn't have felt uncomfortable for helping to kidnap someone when he had killed and robbed people several times before, but he put in efforts to create some standards for himself. One of those standards involved children—and he never liked it when children got hurt. He had to put up with it all of the time with his job, but that angel on his shoulder was telling him to at least give advice to a young victim for once, even though he realized it was a monumentally stupid action with the Joker around.
Hesitating, he left his seat beside Rocco—who refused to look up from his newspaper—and he went over to the girl. Noticing him walking over, Bonnie flinched when he crouched down.
"Hey, kid," the man greeted, nearly looking as uncomfortable as the girl. It was odd for him to be talking to people that he and his colleagues would normally torment, let alone children.
The girl gazed at him warily, whispering, "Hello."
The henchman made a humming noise in his throat, his eyes darting around. He had no idea what to say next, but he knew he had to do something at least a little comforting.
Fixing his dirty collar, he blurted, "You know, for someone new to this, the boss seems to…like you. You might do okay here."
The man clamped his mouth shut as he saw the girl's eyes widen. He hadn't had meant to say that, but she seemed to look relieved when he said what he did.
Maybe it worked, he thought. Maybe I made her feel a little better, after all.
Unfortunately for the man, Bonnie's thoughts were actually swirling in shock.
He likes me? Bonnie thought. I'll do fine here? For someone new for this? He makes it sound like I'm going to work for him! Wait...am I going to work for him? Is that what I need to do? Is that my debt? Do I need to work to survive this?
Bonnie's eyes rushed around, hoping nobody else was listening in. Thankfully, the henchmen didn't seem to be eavesdropping.
"I'm Larry, by the way," the man asked. "How about you?"
Bonnie nearly choked on the question. She was tempted to come up with a fake name out of paranoia, but she knew that he would see right through it. There was the possibility that saying her name would only just reveal more of herself to a stranger that could have been conspiring against her, but she nevertheless had to say it.
"Bonnie," she answered. Larry simply nodded.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. To Bonnie, his question seemed to be genuine, but the question itself was enough to paralyze her.
Cheeks reddening, she said, "I made him angry."
She bit her lips immediately after talking, but Larry ignored the tic.
"How—" Larry made a gesture that said 'never mind'. "Are you related to anyone important?"
Bonnie lowly shook her head, as if she completely understood what he meant.
So it's not a ransom. Maybe he just kidnapped her for the kicks? To kill her? Larry pondered, blanching at the thought. Oh, no, if that's the case, then I really have to come up with something to get her hopes up.
Something clicked in the man's mind. "Don't worry. Half of us here have done something to tick the boss off. We work here to make up for it."
The girl's eyes startlingly lit up, and Larry sighed in relief. Maybe he was good at easing the kid, after all.
Still, like before, Bonnie's mind was a circuit just waiting to shock itself.
That's all? she thought. That's it? I just need to be…a hench-girl? Bonnie let out a breath that she didn't know that she was holding. Granted, many henchmen are expendable—and I'll probably die at some point doing this job—but…now I have closure on my fate! And it sounds much better than being tortured or randomly being stabbed in the back! Because now, I'll EXPECT it if I become a hench-girl! Everything makes sense now!
Breathing heavily again, Bonnie looked inquisitively at the man crouched across her.
"Larry," she said, with her voice on the hinge of question.
"Yeah?"
The flutter in Bonnie's head distracted her from getting her unplanned words out. She never spoke unless she was talked to, but now she had so many unanswered question forming in her head.
"How long have you've been, excuse me, have you worked here?" she stuttered. "Can you, I, um, tell me how to last long?"
The man was taken aback. He looked over to Rocco, who was adjusting his posture as the door creaked.
Larry bristled as a shadow edged closer. "I'll—"
The shadow finally loomed over him, and an arm draped around Bonnie's shoulders, pulling the girl towards the figure. Larry flinched as he gazed upward.
The Joker waved at him with dead eyes and a frozen smile. He began to walk away with Bonnie, his purple coat slapping Larry in the face.
Bonnie uncharacteristically skipped as she was pushed along, and her eyes glistened as she glanced at the Joker. He gave her a patronizing smile in return.
The door slammed after them. It didn't give time for Bonnie to give Larry a mouthed "thank you."
"—Tell you tomorrow," Larry muttered. He crooked his head to see the twins shaking their heads.
Larry sighed as he gave the door a hard, last glance. He stood up to walk to his original spot on the couch, fixing his stained beige and white coat.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Larry," said Rocco, ending his long silence as he took another smoke. He lazily put his paper on the floor.
Larry coughed, waving the smoke away. "What?"
"Getting involved with the girl, that's what," Rocco snapped, with his Brooklyn accent heightening.
The other man raised an eyebrow. "Why not? I put my end in danger everyday, so how does this make a difference?"
"Kids don't come to work here. Teens, but never kids. Do you know what the boss is doing, Lar?"
Larry shook his head, putting a hand through his messily combed hair.
"The boss is having a person project," Rocco continued, "and he doesn't like it when others try to interfere with his work."
In 'person projects', whoever was being 'worked on' would always be driven to whatever madness the boss wanted, and the boss would always treat the project as being a very sacred art. Since they were so sacred, they only happened once in a blue moon, and the last major one was on Harley when she worked at that asylum—almost four years ago.
Rocco did have a point on the subject of kids working for the boss, though. It was very strange for children to be working for the Joker, so he was definitely up to something there.
"I don't want you to get involved in this, Lar'," said Rocco, taking another smoke. "In just a few months, weeks, or even days, the boss is going to warp that girl, and I don't want to see you get killed for trying to help her. You're a nice guy, and it'd be a shame if something happened to you."
Larry put a fist down on his lap.
"Yeah, Roc, but it would be a shame if anything happened to her, too."