Chapter Text
"Rghh!... Heheh…"
Rocco keeps his eyes squeezed shut, but it's useless. He can still hear the noises and they're just as bad. The only thing he can hope for is that whatever malevolent God is out there will let this end soon.
'It'll never end, will it?'
He's not sure if the other guys are still watching. One of them already ran down the alley to throw up, and that only made the Boss cackle louder. That laugh… It haunts their days and nights, whether or not they're asleep. No one escapes the Joker, except through death. Even then, no one really knows if it ends there. That may be the place he continues to torment his victims when his eyes close.
"Hahh… Roc, toss 'em in the dumpster. We gotta go." A nasty snicker follows the order and his stomach turns. Why him? There are ten other guys here that can do this. It's a struggle to pry his lids open, and when he does, the sight is enough to cause even the toughest man's stomach to churn.
The Boss is breathless from the unnecessary effort he put into this 'work of art'. He sways on his feet, gripping a metal bat in his gloved hand. From head to toe, he and the weapon are drenched in blood and other bodily matters the goon refuses to think about.
This isn't what he signed up for.
Five years ago, the Boss wasn't like this. Sure, he was screwed up and pulled terrible shit, but who didn't in The Narrows? The mafia ran the city and people went missing all the time. Everyone was always busting heads and taking names, trying to get ahead in the game. Violence, drugs, weapons, drugs, money… That's how it's always been.
J changed that 'game' forever and took it to the next level. Listening to him speak and carry out his plans was mesmerizing to witness. Saying out loud what everyone thought, yet was too afraid to even whisper. Tearing down barriers and empowering the underdogs to think they have something to offer. They did, it just wasn't apparent back then what they offered to whom.
They were all fools, and now the world has to pay the price for it. Everyone played right into J's hands without realizing what's going on until he makes a fist so tight, it squishes everything in his grasp. Now there's no running away. No one escapes the Joker and gets away with it.
"Yes, Boss." Gray eyes flicker towards the clown smearing blood on his face with the sleeve of his trench coat. His body keeps shaking with a manic fit of giggles as he stares at the body on the ground. Poor sucker… The man didn't deserve to die a dog's death. He just sold a car to the wrong person without knowing it. How could he have possibly known?
'I hope Sakura is far away now…'
Boss lifts the bat up to examine it, eyeing the chunks and stingy mess dangling from the end. His dark eyes light up before swinging it to the side and decorating the newbie standing too close in red. The young man jolts and quickly freezes, letting the fluids run down his face. They all know it's better to be still than to react. One wrong move and their skulls will be bashed in too.
"Hahaha! That's a good look on ya. Definitely an improvement!" Joker laughs and strides closer to the poor newbie, each step measured and deliberate. Rocco has seen this too many times before. It's to cause the trepidation to become worse. His long arms sway as the trench coat flutters behind him, still gripping the soiled bat. To the inexperienced eye, it seems like his grasp on the weapon is light, that maybe it can be pulled from his gloved hand. Wrong. That's a mistake he wants someone to make as an excuse for the punishment to be infinitely worse.
"Y-Yes, Boss." Tommy drops a few inches to make himself appear smaller when the Boss stops in front of him. Not a bad idea, but won't change anything if a sentence is already passed. It's best to be submissive and give him whatever he wants, especially during one of his fits.
"Should we make some more, ah, improvements? Hmm? You haven't smiled once all evening!" Joker leans in with a nod, smiling widely and pointing towards the corners of his mouth. Everyone knows what that means. He might as well have said, 'Should I carve your face open for shits and giggles?' and left it at that.
'I hate this. I hate it! Why does that goddamn Bat have to hide? At least that would give the Boss something else to do.'
"Whatever you want, Boss…" Good answer. The boy's learning fast, and that's a great sign. Rocco tries to give the newbie's little tidbits on how to survive the clown's employment, but none of that matters most of the time. Human instincts often kick in and cause people to buckle under the pressure. Running is the worst option because the Boss likes a good chase. He even gives them a head start to give himself a little challenge.
Joker's lip curls up as he moves just inches away from Tommy's face, who keeps completely still while the clown stares him down. He's either debating if the last guy was enough to sate his bloodlust or how to go about this. Usually, there's no hesitation, so this might turn out favorably. The newbie's not a bad kid, just in the wrong place in life.
"Hah! Smart brat." A small smack on the cheek causes Tommy to jump and the clown to starts up another round of giggles, like a goddamn hyena. He's been worse than ever recently and none of the henchmen know how much more they can take. They'll all be dead soon enough, anyway.
Joker turns away from the trembling boy, ignoring his pallid complexion and heavy breaths. None of that matters, except for entertainment. The car dealer must've been enough for the time being, or Tommy would be next to him with his brains spilled across the cement.
"Roc, I'm pretty sure I told you to do something. Didn't I?" The goon shakes off the temporary paralysis gripping him to nod feverishly. The clown's gaze narrows on him and the twitching in his eye starts up. Just like everything else about this man, even his facial muscles are erratic. Sometimes it's the corner of his eyes or a cheek, then there's his mouth. The moment they fall in sync is when it's time to run for the hills. Not that it'll help…
"Got it." Stepping towards the body, Rocco tries holding in his breath to keep the smell from causing him to vomit. Bodies aren't anything new and neither is blood, but this? The Boss is going overboard with every new victim that falls into his gloved hands. God help the suckers who have anything to do with that woman… He's a hundred times worse.
Standing over the car dealer, the goon's brow furrows at the sight. There isn't a head anymore… Just a pile of mush with bone fragments. Above the man's collar is part of a neck with a dark red bone poking out that was a spine.
"Hahaha! What's wrong, buddy? I thought you had the stomach for this? Should we find out if it's still there?" The sound of the Boss's voice pushes him to move, and it's hard. Grimacing, he slides his large hands under the man's shoulder and legs to hoist him up. Ignoring the wet noises and fluids seeping into his clothes is a struggle he needs to endure. Any sign of weakness this late in the game will surely end in death. The clown doesn't want useless people working for him.
"Hahh…" Sucking in a sharp breath, Rocco carries the man towards the dumpster in the alley, and thankfully, the lid's already open. If Joker saw he didn't make sure it was, the car dealer wouldn't be the only one finding a resting place in there.
Being so large can have its advantages, and it's easy to toss the body in with the trash—exactly where the Boss thinks it belongs. Somewhere down the road, he stopped seeing people as humans and only as garbage that needs to be disposed of. To say working for a man with that kind of mentality is frightening doesn't do it justice. Every person is only a pawn in this terrible game he plays to win. The problem is that he isn't winning, and that makes him far more ferocious than any of the lackeys have ever seen…
"Ahh… So, who's hungry?" The clown clasps his hands and rubs them together. They all know he doesn't give two-shits if anyone is and only says it to make them uncomfortable after what they just witnessed. Who'd want to eat after watching him bash an innocent man's head in? "I'm absolutely famished! C'mon, boys. I wanna get some Chin-ese."
Naturally, he never waits to see if anyone has the balls to answer or cares if they're too nauseated to take a single bite. The world only turns for this man and always will. His wants and desires are what time moves for. The Boss spins on his heel and whistles a tune, walking down the dark alleyway with a little pep in his step. What's left of his entourage silently follows along, hoping to stay as small as physically possible to not draw his attention.
'He's happy for the moment…'
There are very few things that can put the Boss in a 'pleasant' mood these days. Murder, arson, and finding leads on the ones foolish enough to think they can escape him. At the moment, they're in unfamiliar territory and should be careful, but that train of thought never crosses the clown's mind. There's no hesitation or caution in his case. Just doing whatever he wants whenever he feels like it. That attitude used to be admirable in the past, but that died out years ago.
It's been almost a year since shit hit the fan and changed everything. Rocco doesn't know exactly what happened, just the results. He was running an errand earlier that day and returned to find a complete mess. Gasoline all over the place, a dozen men sprawled out over the floor, Harley dead in the basement, and Joker cackling like a madman.
That might've been the single most terrifying night of his life. He's never seen the Boss so unhinged before, and the men that returned were sure they were all going to be murdered. The ones that tried to run felt the clown's fury crash down on them like boulders in a landslide, while the others were forced to be accomplices.
"Catch those pieces of shits and take 'em the basement. NOW! Or you'll be their substitutes."
Better the runaways taste his wrath than themselves. No one just expected it to be so… gruesome.
"Hurry it up! We have work to do!" The clown doesn't glance back even once as he trudges down the littered alley. His ears are keen, knowing each one of their positions, and how fast they're walking. No one wants to get in striking range while that bat's still in his hand... However, they don't need to enrage him either.
'Fucked if ya do, fucked if ya don't…'
There's no actual work that has to be done. Shit, they're not even in Gotham anymore. The last few months have been spent tracking down clues and following leads. It's laborious and disastrous most of the time, but the Boss won't stop. He's hellbent on finding his 'family' and getting them back.
'More like killing them for escaping.'
Aside from Joker, no one was more surprised about the pinkette's sudden disappearance than Rocco. Honestly, he never thought she'd pull it off so flawlessly. Escaping the Boss and hiding for an entire year is a feat most could never dream of, let alone accomplish. Good for her. If anyone deserves to slip through his clutches, it's Sakura. For eleven months she endured his abuse and endless bullshit.
From checking out the building and following the bloody prints, she crawled out the window and took off. They only went to the alleyway before vanishing. How someone can lose so much blood and still run away is a complete mystery to the men left alive. The clown himself was the one inspecting everything thoroughly because he didn't believe any of them until seeing it with his own eyes.
The next few weeks were an awful experience they'd all like to forget. Searching every corner of the city, questioning people, checking her old apartment, and surveillance cameras… Nothing. It's almost as bad as looking for the flying rat. To make matters worse, the pinkette broke into one spot the Boss hides money and cleaned it out. There would've been three guys there but two were part of the group the clown shot. The last was at the bar, getting drunk in the middle of the night when the robbery took place.
Poor fool.
He regretted not being on guard, that's for sure. Joker blamed him for losing the money and allowing her to get away, taking out the loss by using the man's body for target practice. The big question is, how did she know about it? Sakura would've only had that kind of information if the Boss mentioned it or overheard him at some point in all those months they were together. He probably figured there was no chance of her getting out anyway, so what difference did it make? Honestly, this is entirely the clown's fault, and he's smart enough to understand that yet will never accept any blame. He ran his mouth; he pushed her to run, and he caused all of this to happen.
'But it's always everyone else's fault.'
It's frustrating to watch a man cause so many problems and point fingers everywhere else but himself. Sometimes Rocco wants to shake him and scream 'wake the fuck up!' yet self-preservation keeps him silent. Telling the clown any different will only result in him lashing out in the worst ways.
Having all that money after Joker drained her accounts allowed Sakura to run from place to place, with them always one step behind the pinkette. They finally found a lead in Gotham during an interrogation about a pink-haired woman buying a car that had a GPS tracker, but they found it abandoned right outside the state lines.
The clues she leaves are almost mocking in nature and send the Boss into a furious rage. Sometimes there are little notes in vehicles or apartments with funny comments, but the clown doesn't find them as amusing as the henchmen do. When any of them snicker, the knives come out. They quickly learned to keep their mouths shut.
How a pregnant woman can run so far in such a short amount of time is beyond him. By now, the kid should be around six months old, yet she keeps at it. State after state they've gone through in this little mission to snag her, and the Boss refuses to give up. They've had to recruit stragglers along the way from him finding any reason to kill their men off. It's a simple task for a man with a silver tongue and lots of money, but still is an awful process to watch, knowing how it'll end for them.
Sakura's more cunning than Joker expected, and he's kicking himself for it. She bided her time and watched him from a distance, even in the corners he drove her into. Most people that run never get to know him on such a personal level or see his habits. It's what bought her so much time, but even that's running out. They're hot on her tail now and getting closer with each passing day. The trail brought them to Michigan, where they've been for the better part of a month.
Midway City
The group has been scouring the city for the last week, trying to find out what they can. That's what led to the car dealer's untimely demise. At the moment, the pinkette's been going by a different name, but she can't change her face or the mark on her forehead. She's been ballsier lately and Rocco thinks it's on purpose, for some ungodly reason. Maybe she wants him to find her or is tired of running?
'Who knows?'
Reaching the van at the end of the alley, the men swing the backdoors open and start piling in. Unfortunately, the Boss enjoys sitting in the passenger seat while Rocco drives him around. These days, the anxiety is almost enough to get him into a traffic accident, especially when those gloved hands shoot out to screw with the radio. There's always the fear that one of these times a knife will lodge into his belly while the clown laughs, not giving a damn if they drive off the road. He doesn't care about anything. Not the men, innocent pedestrians, or other drivers, not even himself.
Rocco silently hops into the driver's side and keeps the Boss in his peripherals. It's terrifying to keep an eye on him, yet even worse not to. Right away, the clown pushes the seat all the way back and puts his feet up on the dashboard, paying no mind to the men behind him being squished. No one will make a complaint and they all know it. If anything, he likes the knowledge of making them uncomfortable and seeing them withstand it on his account.
'Needy little bastard.'
"Rocco…" The goon freezes with his fingers gripping the keys in the ignition. Slowly turning his head, the Boss is staring right at him while taking a cigarette out of his pack. Those cold, dark pits for eyes pierce him like a blade, trying to cut away the human left to dig right into his soul. The sensation his gaze gives off is like being tossed bare-naked out into the snow, after having everything stripped away. They cause his skin to prickle with goosebumps and panic to lick up his spine. A small tremor is barely suppressed as he swallows hard, doing his best to look at the madman watching him.
"Yeah, Boss?" A wide smile slithers across the greasepaint at the question, and everyone in the van is silent. Shoving the cigarette between his ruined lips, Joker doesn't look away as he slowly lights it, alarming the other men. No one likes it when there's fire in his hands.
"You got a problem?" A trickle of sweat trails down Rocco's temple at the question. It's almost as if the Boss can read their minds and the thought alone is scary. They know he can't or everyone would be dead. This is another thing he does to strike fear into them, to remind everyone who holds the power.
"N-No… Of course not." It's a struggle to talk, like there's a gloved hand coiled around his throat, making it hard to breathe. One wrong word and it's all over. He didn't make it this long to die now. Seven years and any day will finally be the last, but there's nothing that can be done about it. No one comes in contact with this man and has a happy ending.
'Harley…'
There's sobbing coming from the back room on the first floor that draws Rocco's attention. He knows that sound as much as his own name being called out. It's always the same around here, and there's no rhyme or reason for it.
Standing in the doorway, his gray eyes taking in the slumped form of a woman sitting on the floor. Bright blonde hair curtains around her, shielding the lithe woman from anything that might cause the crying to become worse. He already knows what started the tears, but that doesn't stop him from stepping into the small room. The fairer sex has always been a soft spot, especially when they're bawling their eyes out.
"Stop being a goddamn pussy, Roc."
That's what the Boss said last time he found him comforting the blonde, after smacking them both. Harley took it the wrong way and thought the clown was jealous, but that's another fleeting fantasy of hers. She was so happy that it's completely mind-boggling and sad.
"What's wrong, Har?" It's a stupid question, he knows… There's only one thing the former doctor cries over. No one understands why this woman stays, despite how often the clown lets it be known he doesn't want to continue their… relationship?
It's not a hard concept to grasp for Rocco. Harley threw everything away to be with the Joker. Her job, friends, family, home, every possession, and is now a wanted criminal. If she leaves, then what? Where will she go? If the authorities catch her, they'll squeeze every ounce of information out about the clown and his whereabouts. The mobs and street urchins will do the same.
The pair have made many enemies during their little tryst, and no one forgets the terror they caused. Many people will have a bone to pick with the blonde and want to get back at her for the terrible things she's done. The only thing stopping most of them from getting their hands on her is fear of the retaliation from the Boss. If they knew he doesn't care what happens…
'Harley will be done for. It's not like she wouldn't deserve it, but still...'
"I—I hate that woman!" Without looking up, she screams it at the floor as if it might curse the pinkette for her.
Letting out a deep breath, Rocco put his hands on his hips. How many ways can he say the same shit? Part of him feels sympathetic, but the other wants to try smacking some sense into her. She's in a tough spot yet put herself there. No one forced her to help Joker escape Arkham or join in the crime sprees. There wasn't anyone else that put a knife in her hand and encouraged the disgusting acts that followed.
Joker made it very clear from the beginning what kind of man he is and how he thinks of her. They constantly fought, laughed, and hit each other almost daily. The days that didn't happen were the ones the clown didn't return or was out on a job. This was nothing more than a violent affair meant to go down in flames. Everyone can see it, but she refuses to accept it. What did she expect? That they would be together forever? Someday he might grow to love her?
'Ridiculous…'
The Boss doesn't share those 'useless' emotions, as he calls them. Every time the subject was brought up, it ends with him cackling and her in tears.
"Har—"
"I know, Roc! Ya don't have to say the same shit! It's not her fault. She doesn't want to be here. Don't blame her for what the Boss decides to do. I don't care! If that little bitch wasn't alive, this wouldn't be happening!" Finally lifting her head up, Harley glares at the large man. In a way, she's very similar to the clown. Always blaming others for problems they cause themselves. He can't help sighing at her tear-stained face or the large purple splotch decorating her jaw. It's striking against her pale skin and she scoffs, noticing what he's looking at.
"So, what? Ya think if she dies, the Boss will suddenly treat ya better? Is that it?" They both know the answer, even if it's not voiced. The blonde clenches her teeth, looking away to scowl at the wall.
The difference in how Joker treats the two women is painfully obvious, even if he's still just as rotten. He never had an issue with humiliating the blonde in front of his men, whether it's beatings or name-calling. Sakura's always locked away like a caged mouse and the clown's the big, nasty cat that bats at her through the bars. She hasn't been allowed outside once since the night he brought her here. The apartment is on the top floor and the men have been ordered not to go anywhere near it. Sometimes if Rocco's on the second floor, he can hear crying once in a while, but that's it.
The Boss is a jealous, strange man that keeps the pinkette away from everyone else, so no one sees or hears her. A few of the newer men doubted she existed until there's an escape attempt. The violence that ensues leaves no questions about the ghost upstairs being an actual person. It's terrifying to realize the disembodied voice that filters down the steps comes from a living woman.
"Shaddap… What do ya think I should do then? Just sit here and take it? I can't lose to some pink-haired whore that stole Mista J from me… I can't. There's nothin' left for me besides him." The tears break out again as she turns back to him. The swelling along her jaw needs ice, but she'll let it go, wearing it like a badge of pride. Even if it's bad attention, the blonde will take it over none.
"Hahh… Fucking hell. Ya keep going upstairs and he will kill ya one of these days. Why don't ya just take the money and run? Start a new life somewhere? It's gotta be better than this." There are only so many warnings to give before it's too late. To everyone's surprise during their last row, Joker told her to take a wad of cash and get the hell out. Why he doesn't just shoot her is anyone's guess, but Harley takes it the wrong way.
The men place bets each time the two fight now whether Harley will make it out alive. These chicks bring out the worst in him. Most of the time, the Boss doesn't bother with women on their jobs or 'incidences'. They're beneath his attention and unworthy of his art form, which is the only thing Rocco's grateful for. The clown will swear with his dying breath that everyone is the same kind of trash that he disposes of in the same manner.
The man is a living, breathing contradiction. Always says one thing, then does another. Perhaps he does believe it, yet his actions don't line up with the words constantly falling from his mangled mouth. It's not like anyone will argue with him, and if they do, he'll go out of his way to make a point.
"Roc… I'm not giving up, even if it means I gotta cut her throat. Ya know I'll do whatever I need to for Mista J. That bitch is trickin' him, using her body to get what she wants. I don't get why he can't see her for what she is. Dumbass…" A chuckle turns into a sob as she covers her face, leaning up against the wall. The entire crew knows all too well how much Harley despises the pinkette, blaming her for everything the Boss does. She's too far gone to listen to reason and rejects any notions the woman is innocent.
"Do ya really think anyone can manipulate the Boss? Honestly? C'mon, Har… Ya know better than that. She doesn't wanna be here at all. Why do ya think she keeps tryin' to escape? You're takin' your anger out on the wrong person. That bruise on your face… It's only gonna get worse if ya keep it up." Crouching down, Rocco doesn't know what can be said to stop the blonde. Joker will kill her one of these days and everyone sees it but her. Isn't it bad enough the clown torments Sakura? Then whenever he leaves, his ex-'girlfriend' goes upstairs to continue where he left off. What kind of life is that? Both don't care or see how terrible they are to the poor girl from being too lost in their own selfish desires.
'Harley and J make one hell of a pair. Neither has an ounce of empathy for a single person. No wonder they don't get along… They're too much alike in some ways.'
"Mista J is gonna kill me no matter what I do. The money is just a trick to give him an excuse to get rid of me. I'm not an idiot. He seems to forget who I was before all this." She reaches up to run a hand through her blonde hair, visibly distraught about the predicament they're all in. There's a very good chance the clown wants her to take the offer, then will stick a blade into her stomach the moment she accepts.
What's the point of all this? It's a dysfunctional triangle with no happy ending for any of them… One way or another, both woman gets hurt and the Boss sits back and snickers. Despite the manic laughter, the clown's not getting what he wants either. Sakura hates him, but he desires her anyway. Harley loves him, yet he doesn't want her. The doctor despises the pinkette, who just wants those psychos to leave her alone…
'Bunch of fucking morons… They'll all end up dead by the end of this.'
"Why? I just don't get it… I do everything I can for him. Always have… So, what's wrong with me? Every piece of my life has been cut away to stay with Mista J, and after all this time, he acts like I don't exist anymore. The more I try, the nastier he becomes. I don't understand what he wants with a woman that hates his guts. Can't he see that? She doesn't belong in this world where I fit in perfectly. It's… puzzlin'."
"Maybe that's what he likes? Ya try so hard and he knows you'll give him everything. Sakura fights him tooth-and-nail, so I think he likes the challenge. Who knows? No one gets what goes on in that head of his. Don't think anyone ever will…" There's no other explanation Rocco can come up with. It would thrill a lot of men to have a woman like Harley clinging to them. She's beautiful, smart, cunning and loyal to a fault. That's not a mix easy to find, especially with a person who understands and thrives in both worlds.
The blonde was a successful psychiatrist with the potential to have a great life. She also made one hell of a name for herself in the underground. Not many people can adapt this way, yet she did it all with a smile on her face. With her gymnastics training and capacity for learning quickly, Harley's a perfect companion to have in this field. Why does the Boss want to throw that away? He has a keen eye for talent and this woman's brimming with it. No one else could put up with his antics and come back for seconds. She's willing to kill anyone that even insults the Joker and willingly fulfills his demands with feverish intensity.
'Why throw Harley away for Sakura? Doesn't make any sense.'
"I don't care… I'm gonna kill that bitch even if it's the last thing I do!" The look in her blue eyes says far more than the words can. If the Boss heard them, he'd come in swinging. Luckily for them, he's out on a job. Once again, he left Harley behind after she begged to go along. That's how her jaw ended up like this. The clown doesn't enjoy being told what to do or anyone questioning his decisions.
'I warned her…'
"That's what I though-t. Get movin'. We have a bunny to track down." Rocco purses his lips and looks back towards the steering wheel. Joker's definitely in a pleasant mood after this last clue. They're getting close. All he can hope for is that Sakura will be gone before they get to her.
"Wabbit season… Hahaha!" The sudden hysterics from the Boss causes the goon to jolt in his seat, gripping the wheel in a panic. That raucous noise puts everyone on edge and resounds throughout the entire van, piercing into the men's ear like little blades.
Joker smacks his knee as the laughter dies down, letting his cigarette hang from his ruined bottom lip. He's enjoying their discomfort, knowing full well the effect his actions have on the rest of them.
"Tch. None of you bastards appreciate my jokes. Maybe I should get some men that will? Hmm? How does that sound?"
The silence is deafening from the trepidation washing over all eleven men squished in the vehicle with this madman. Most of them are physically larger than him, but he's proved many times over that size doesn't matter.
"Haha! Nice, Boss!" One squeaks from the back, his voice quivering from not knowing which option's better. Saying nothing will make him angry, but he can also lash out with the excuse they're making fun of his 'woman'. It's happened quite a few times already. None of them ever know which angle he'll take.
A small chorus of nervous chuckles follows, but it sounds too forced. That alone might cause the clown to snap. Flickering his gaze over in anxiety, Rocco tries to eye Joker from his peripherals. Despite getting the laughs he wanted, there doesn't appear to be any amusement in his expression. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, he taps a battered dress shoes against the dashboard in agitation. Dark eyes stare at the road straight ahead and the corner twitches. That's never a good sign, but as long as his hands don't reach into his trench coat pocket, then maybe they'll be fine for now.
"Move it."
Watching the smoke dance in the air, Joker slaps it away in annoyance. Normally he revels in observing the way it twists and turns before escaping, but not anymore. It reminds him too much of the only true failure he's had in years.
Batman and Sakura both slipped through his gloved hands like smoke. Sneaking from the spaces between his fingers and fluttering away, no matter how much he tightened his grip. It's unbelievable and maddening that it happened. No one appreciates the time and effort he puts into them. A bunch of ungrateful stinkbugs he plans to squash under his dress shoes.
'Little bitch…'
His lip curls up into a snarl as he glares out the window. If the information he pulled out of the last schmuck is anything to go by, the pinkette mentioned moving to this area recently. They've been staking out different spots for the last four days and not a single glimpse of the pinkette. Not that he's specifically searching for a pink-haired woman. Sakura's not foolish enough to walk around so brazenly with her natural color. Nope. From what he's gathered, she switches her name and hair with every new city, but there are always clues about the next destination. Sometimes newspaper clippings left in empty apartments. Occasionally, notes with disrespectful remarks and taunts. It's almost as if she wants him to catch her by leaving these behind…
'My bunny's smarter than I gave her credit for.'
The muscle in his cheeks jumps at the thought. That sneaky, conniving witch… Using him for all he's worth, then running off like that. He even killed Harley for her. At least the blonde could've been used to help track Sakura down. That woman's like a bloodhound with people that disrespect him.
Joker works his jaw in anger from thinking about the entire mess. No… Anger isn't the right word. Too tame, too soft. Perhaps there isn't anything that can describe this emotion. He's not sure and doesn't want to waste his precious time thinking about that. It's better spent elsewhere.
"Haha! Too late, asshole! Better luck next time…"
The cigarette between his fingers snaps in half. That was written on the last note, along with a clipping of a festival going on in Midway City. That cocky slut thinks she's so funny.
'Wait until I get my hands on her… She won't be laughing then.'
There's no way Sakura could've lost all that blood and ran without help. Joker knows a dead body when he sees one, especially when there's no pulse. It makes little sense. Doesn't matter... Someone must've seen her in the alleyway. An injured, young pregnant woman will draw sympathy from most morons. He has a few theories on how she pulled this off and it all revolves around a man assisting her. It's impossible in that state to not only hightail it but also rob him. There's a missing piece to the puzzle somewhere, and he'll find it.
'When I do…'
The pinkette will be one sorry piece of ass when he catches her. This last year has been spent trying to find her and Batman, all while imagining various ways of tearing her apart. There are no leads on the flying rat, but his bunny has been generously leaving hints. Sakura's a comedian now, apparently. Thinks she's fucking hilarious. Where was that sense of humor before? When she was crying in his shirt and asking so sweetly to take it easy on her? Someone needs a refresher course and beaten back into place.
Did she have a good laugh? Was it hard to stay limp while he was losing his shit? Does she get a kick out of it while spending his money and living it up? How often does she replay everything he did? He bets she has a nice shit-eating grin each time.
For the first time, Joker felt utterly humiliated. He can't remember if that's ever happened before. It took a while to place a word on that sensation, but he found that little shit-stain somewhere in the pile. To think he was easing up on her... A few months of spacing out his fits and look what happens? Never again. He had it right the first time, and it should've stayed that way. What an ungrateful, selfish woman. If only he didn't spend so much time on Harley, he might've caught the pinkette trying to escape.
The rage boiling up inside causes him to sweat, making the black greasepaint around his eyes weep further. It's chilly outside, but the fire burning beneath his skin keeps him hot. Studying every face that passes by is driving him up a wall, silently waiting for his prey to show up. He should've kept that snotty car dealer alive to get more information out of him or to use as bait. The rage led to acting out and prematurely disposing of the best lead he's had in weeks. Who can blame him though?
'This is all Sakura's fault.'
At first, Joker was determined to murder the pinkette the moment she's found. That's too good for someone like her. Nope. Different scenarios played through his mind to remedy the situation. He's all about making a point. Sometimes, he can be a reasonable man. The problem is her running away, right? Having no feet will make that impossible. She won't get far without those. Unfortunately, he enjoys chasing her, so that won't do. Eyes? Gouging them out will leave her helpless and she'll have to rely on him for everything. That was an option that sounded best, and he resolved on making it happen. That's another issue… Those little gems are priceless, as are the emotions he's able to draw out of them.
"Tch…" So many options and only one body. If he takes it too far, there might be nothing left to enjoy. There's also the brat… What the hell does he do with it? Killing the baby isn't an option. Nope. That serves no purpose and is a useless act of barbarity better left to scum on the streets. His style of violence is an art form that shouldn't be wasted on the likes of a creature that won't appreciate it.
The child is better left alive to be used as a weapon. It's all Sakura has to cling on and means more to her than life itself. What else would've elicited her compliance back then? Pain, fear, taking her home and income, family, friends, possessions… None of that did a single thing for months. After the pinkette became pregnant, the state of their cohabitation gradually changed. Big mistake. One he's regretted for the last year now. That's another unwanted emotion she pulled out of him that someone needs to pay for.
Joker doesn't recall a person who's ever made this number of consecutive attacks against him that are so personal. The Bat throws fists at every part of his body, yet never reached inside to rip everything out. Sakura can't physically hurt him but found another means of evoking injuries. Another funny little joke. Both filled separate needs for the clown, and they also discovered different angles to destroy him from.
Sakura tried taking everything on the way out. That woman robbed him of so many things. She fucked with him, stole the experiences he was eager to observe, caused the deaths of over a dozen goons and Harley, ran away, took a large sum of money, kidnapped something of his creation… That's only a quick summary. Going into detail will only cause him to have another fit in the van.
Right now, he needs to keep a sharp eye to get this done. It's a pain in the ass that'll pay off in the long run. She's somewhere around here and until another lead pops up, this is where they'll stay. The festival's in two days. There's a reason she left that specific clipping and either she'll be there or another clue will be. Honestly, he never imagined she had it in her to do any of this.
"Heheh… Did… Did it ever occur to ya, J… that maybe she killed herself to get away from ya? Everyone knows how much she despised— "
These little women have a funny way of surprising him in the end. Just when the clown thinks he has them figured out, a blade's whipped out and jammed right into his chest. Then again, that's what makes this so entertaining, even if it pisses him off. Sakura enraged him, yet this chase has his blood surging in all the worst ways. He underestimated her... A mistake that won't be made again. Unlike last time, Joker has a weapon that will keep her compliant. A baby… The pinkette will do everything he says for the child's sake. He just needs to get his hands on it first. Then she'll crumple into a pile that he can do anything with.
'She needs to be punished... Looks like the lessons will have to continue until we get it right. This time I won't be careless.'
It'll take a while and a lot of effort, but this is worth it. Without the Bat, life just isn't fun the way it used to be. Retraining the pinkette and breaking her in will fill that void.
"Good."
To say he feels smug is a complete understatement. That word alone won't do this sensation any justice. Having this woman straddling his legs, burying her face in his chest and willingly handing everything over… He's been waiting for this moment for months and now it's finally here.
'She's broken.'
If he knew knocking her up would do the trick, this might've happened a lot sooner. The thought of a baby repulses him, but that won't be his problem. With something to fill her days in his absence, she should become more docile towards him. If not, there's still the fear of anything happening to the child to keep her in line. The thought of another person being more important than him is intolerable, but the knowledge that it's a part of him helps quell some of his fury.
Joker knows it's beneath him to be jealous of a shitty brat, especially one that's only the size of a blueberry right now. So tiny he could squish it between his fingers with zero effort if there wasn't a woman surrounding the little bastard. That was his train of thought while browsing through information on the internet in a state of boredom. It's better to know everything about his enemy, to plan properly.
Sakura's hands grasp the front of the dress shirt, still keeping her face hidden against his chest. It's painfully obvious how difficult this must be on her and it only makes his smile widen, pulling on the scars around his mouth. Any more and they might split open and cover her in blood. The thought causes something terrible to stir inside the clown, exciting him. He's seen the pinkette with her own blood trailing over that pale skin, but what about his own?
Images run past Joker's mind that cause his skin to heat-up. What a beautiful sight that'll make. His dark, red blood would be striking against her appearance, taking that soft exterior and twisting it into a grisly image. He's certain there's nothing she'd want more than to murder him and be done with it all. Too bad for his little bunny there's still too much to do, and he doesn't want to let her go.
Witnessing Sakura crossing that line and finally losing it… To see a woman that spent her life caring for others and go against everything she stands for is a tantalizing idea. He's set up a perfect scenario by fueling her with rage, pushing the pinkette into a corner where the only thing left is to lash out or submit. If he puts a knife in her hand, will his throat be slit open? Rammed in his chest to the hilt? Or is there too much humanity left? That little conscious might stop her from finishing the job, but seeing what happens will be entertaining.
"Is that all you want? For me to behave?" Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. The hands on his shirt anxiously twist the fabric in their clasp, waiting for a response. She wants to know if his desires are fulfilled, will she be treated better? The clown's not a fool that can't read between the lines.
"Heh." Sakura stiffens when he reaches behind her to tug his gloves off. Doesn't she get it yet? A joke isn't funny anymore if he has to explain it. "Sure, dollface."
The pinkette leans back to narrow her gaze on him. It's almost surprising the amount of balls she's been displaying lately. Is she trying to see if he's being honest? That's a waste of time…
The hands against his chest slip down, slowly trailing towards his belt. His eyes dart in their direction, watching curiously to see what she plans on doing. It's not like her to make a move, but he won't complain. The muscle in his cheek jumps when her slim fingers graze his belt, only for him to scowl as they move away.
'Is she trying to tease me?'
Grinding his teeth, the clown debates pushing her off his lap to the floor. He's not in the mood for games at the moment.
"I hope you'll do the same." Grabbing the bottom of her slip, Sakura pulls it over her head, tossing the flimsy garment on the rug. The same spot she was seconds away from finding herself from messing with him. Letting out a heavy breath, the pinkette's hands instinctively move to cover her bare chest from the chill in the room, stopping midway to grip his dress shirt instead. Shifting closer towards his warmth, she curls into him, nuzzling her face against the crook of his neck.
Joker almost swallows his own tongue, completely thunderstruck. He doesn't move or speak, silently allowing this strange experience to play out. This woman has never sought him out for anything, yet here she is, clinging and shivering in his lap. Her words are a distant thought, finding the result more interesting than their purpose. She's finally doing what's expected of her and he doesn't know how to react. Part of him didn't think it'd actually happen, but couldn't be more pleased.
"I want you, J…" Sakura breathes out, nipping the skin along the column of his neck. He swallows hard, closing his eyes and drinking in the attention she's giving him. It's a struggle to keep still, to not lash out or grip her up. If this is how she'll act for now on, perhaps he might ease up… a little. The only reason he treats her this way is because she's arrogant and doesn't listen.
'Positive reinforcement...'
"Do you, now?" A chuckle builds up in his throat, only to die out when she pulls back. The pinkette stares at him, letting her eyes roam over his face. She's looked at him a million times, but this feels different. Like those little emeralds are peeling away his flesh and muscle, trying to find something that isn't there. The sensation it leaves him with is uncomfortable and his gaze turns cold, going back to the idea of shoving her to the floor.
"I do." Sakura slowly nods, moving in to brush her lips along the side of his mouth. Over his scars. Her warm breaths and the soft texture against his ruined skin cause his hands to ball up into fists. He doesn't know if it's shock or curiosity that kept him from acting out, but he can't do it anymore.
Grabbing her hips, Joker stands up and tosses the pinkette onto the mattress. If she wants to fuck around, then that's exactly what he'll do.
Bunny's breathless when she lands in the sea of messy sheets, staring up at him in disbelief. This time he laughs, loud and obnoxiously at her shocked expression. It's what she deserves for taking him off guard like this. That's too many times in one day for his liking.
Smiling like a devil, Joker slowly stalks around the bed, each step measured and precise. Watching her becoming frantic is a pastime he's learned to enjoy as she grabs a sheet to cover herself with. Perhaps his bunny thinks he's angry? That's not the case, but he isn't about to tell her otherwise. Her eyes are full of panic, a stark contrast to their appearance only seconds ago.
Deftly plucking at the buttons on his dress shirt, he soaks in the emotions rolling off her in waves, eyeing her up from under his heavy lids. If she'll start behaving, there needs to be some kind of reward to keep it going.
And that's exactly what he is… the reward.
"Hahh…" The clown breathes out, watching the smoke flutter in the frigid air. No matter how cold he keeps the building, the sweating never stops. The temperature is set to the lowest degrees the system can handle to draw the desired reactions out of his bunny, knowing she doesn't handle it well. Holding him is as good as sitting next to a crackling fire, and he tries using that to his advantage when she's trembling like a leaf. She probably has no clue it's May, and the weather is warm outside, but that's information the pinkette doesn't need to know. There's no time or season in this world of his own creation.
Only him.
His eyes feel heavy as he takes another long drag, glaring at the ember at the end of the cigarette. This little game is playing out in his favor in one aspect, but how long will she keep it up?
"I want you, J…"
Joker's eyes drag from the smoke between his fingers, towards a spot on the wall to scowl at. That's what he wanted to hear from her all this time and sounded better than expected.
Grasping a blade on the table he's sitting at, the clown starts mindlessly digging into the surface, mulling over everything that happened upstairs. His bunny has a way of surprising him lately, and he can't say it's not enjoyable. The blood on his back already dried and flakes off each time he shifts against the chair. Her nails… They're like little knives trying to tear his skin right off and he revels in it. Pain and pleasure go hand-in-hand. Perhaps she's starting to appreciate that mindset.
Sakura did everything he wanted, but that anger is ever-present. Maybe it's from knowing this is all an act to save her skin… She didn't hold anything back, shrieking and clawing at him like a cat in heat. This is how he wanted his bunny to be, yet after everything's said and done…
"Tch!" Stabbing the table, his rage won't go away. She called him a liar, a filthy coward for what he did.
Lying against the headboard an hour ago, his mind started wandering to make sense of his own actions. Big mistake. That's exactly why he shouldn't look for reason in anything, let alone himself. She was sleeping soundly next to him, curled up on her side. Staring at the pinkette's peaceful face too long and the purple blotches along her neck set him off. He doesn't like the heavy sensation in his chest or what she's drawing out of him. Any time there's an obstacle in the clown's way, there's only one option to keep going.
Get rid of it.
That's what pushed him to coil his hands around her neck while she slept. It's what made his grip tight enough to cut off her airway. This whole time, he planned on keeping her and having fun along the way. The whole reason he scoured the streets that night was from the hollow space in his chest, wanting something to fill that void. Now it's too full, and he doesn't know what to do with it.
"You're a fucking liar! The moment I do what you want… You try to kill me?! Why the hell should I do anything you say now? I-I can't believe this… 'Man of your word' my ass! Filthy coward!"
His lips curl up into a snarl, needing to take this vicious anger out on something. Admitting that she's right won't ever happen. If she didn't knee him in the groin, Rocco might've been stuck cleaning up another corpse. What's the point of all this just to strangle her? He didn't have an answer for her upstairs and can't come up with anything smart even now.
The clown works his jaw, tightening the hold on the blade's handle. He doesn't have to justify his actions, least of all to a small woman. Her words bit at his insides in all the wrong ways. If he put his hands on her at that moment, there was no stopping. Today seems to be all about firsts because he forced himself out of the bedroom and down the flights of stairs.
Joker doesn't feel guilty. Those kinds of emotions are lost on a man like him. He knows that, yet can't explain the sensation pricking at his sides. That moment Sakura's eyes flew open when he was choking her said more than he would've liked.
Betrayal…
That's all he could see in them. None of the fear and anger that followed after she retaliated. Just pure, unadulterated betrayal. She went out of her way to do what he demanded and was still punished for it. His bunny trusted that he would keep his word, that if she pleased him, everything will get better. The pinkette couldn't have done better, even surpassing his expectations in a single night. That still didn't stop him from acting up at the last moment.
'Fuck… Fuck!'
"Mista J?" Dark eyes tear away from the blade in his hand, towards the woman leaning against the doorframe. The scowl plastered on his face turns into a grin as he watches her eyeing him up, taking in his disheveled appearance. The clown already knows he looks like a mess, with his hair sticking out in every direction and blood dried around his mouth and back. He didn't bother picking up the dress shirt off the carpet upstairs either.
Sitting back in the chair, Joker narrows his gaze on Harley, already knowing what she's up to. Those blue eyes trail over his bare chest, zeroing in on the scratch marks trailing over his tan skin. It would be a lie to say he doesn't enjoy flaunting it in front of her, letting the blonde know what she's missing out on. Making her life miserable is the only thing keeping the former doctor alive now. Once it's no longer entertaining, she'll just be a smudge in his past like everything else.
Long-forgotten and never missed. A distant memory that will only return for a good laugh now and then.
"Whatcha want?" Taking another drag, he blows it in her direction. They both know he doesn't give a damn what she came here for, so why bother? The answer is always going to be 'no' unless it involves something that'll make him cackle. Strapping her to a rocket, throwing her through a window, a fist to the jaw… Those he doesn't mind doing for her. Everything else is too much of a bother.
"I wanna go on the job with you tomorrow." Harley crosses her arms across the skin-tight red outfit she enjoys wearing these days, giving him a hard look. What gives these cocky women the impression he gives a shit about anything they want? He already told her to fuck off, and she keeps coming back for more.
Saying nothing, Joker crushes the cigarette on the desk's surface and stands up. Striding over to one of the boxes in the corner, he leans over to jostle stuff around, giving her a clear view of his back. The torn skin splits open from the movements, causing the blood to run from the wounds again.
Just to rub it in her face.
He doesn't need anything from the box. This is only to force Harley to see the evidence from what happened upstairs if the rest didn't give it away. Grabbing a random object from the top, he smiles wide at the sharp inhale. She's upset and that's exactly how he likes her.
"Why do ya have to be like this? Can't we just go back to the way it used to be?"
Straightening his back, the clown snorts through his nose. The way they used to be? The only thing that's different is them not fucking anymore. Or taking her on jobs with him because she tries to pull shit to get his attention. Both have always mixed and he's done with that. She's stale and used, no longer catching his interest. They've had their fun, and that died out a while ago, yet she doesn't know when to quit.
"Knock it off and get out." Turning around, Joker feels the rage from earlier bubbling in his chest. He was looking for someone other than his bunny to take it out on and here comes Harley, ready to test his patience.
'Like always… Stupid bitch.'
It's infuriating how the people around this building enjoy pushing his buttons recently, whether or not they realize he's around. Sometimes he feigns walking through the front door, only to slither back in and sit on the stairs, waiting to see what his men have to say when they think he's gone. The blonde never has an issue with letting her inner thoughts out, but they do. It's a good way to weed out the ones that aren't loyal.
Just before leaving for two weeks, one moron lounging around thought they'd try their hand at comedy without realizing he was on the staircase listening to every word. Usually, he waits to act until they're completely off guard, then the surprise is more hilarious. Not that time. An amusing joke about his color preferences going from purple and green, to yellow and pink. Harley's the only one that laughed, and after he finished beating the goon's head in with her mallet, she received a heavy right hook to the jaw.
If these bastards are going to make wisecracks, they better be goddamn funny. No one enjoys stepping up to the mic now.
"Look, if you're tryin' to teach me a lesson, I got it!" The blonde steps closer, shaking her hands to get the point across. Desperation drips from each word, trying to find any small space she can wedge herself into. "You're not taking her along, so why can't I go?"
This old topic again? One thing the Joker doesn't like is monotony, and she's been giving it in spades. Same shit, different day. Whining and begging for attention, doing anything possible to get it, even if it's the wrong kind. Ignoring her usually brings out a different side that's amusing, but even that's losing its edge. If it's not entertaining, then he's not interested.
Any time Harley comes out on a job, she screws something up by being overzealous to prove her point. He needs her. That's what she's trying to make painfully clear, but that's not true at all. Joker has never needed anyone, and that won't change. Not her, Sakura, the money, the weapons, none of it. Having an attachment to people or objects is a useless notion that only impedes progress.
Swiping the forked scar on his bottom lip, Joker steps over to the chair and flops down. If the blonde wants to waste her breath until he does something about it, then be his guest. Spreading his knees apart, he sneers as she watches him with rapt attention, following each of his movements like a hawk.
"You're not even gonna say anythin' to me? Is that where we are?" Harley chuckles, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. "Ya wanna throw everything we had away for some pink-haired slut?"
Now, she's asking for it.
"Do you want me to hurt you? Hmm?" The clown's shoulder's raise up, getting ready to lunge. The tension throughout his body is looking for an excuse to find a way out and she's been on thin ice. It never takes much to set him off, but talking about his bunny brings a guaranteed ass-beating. Insulting her is the same as doing it to him since she's his property. Disrespect and insubordination aren't tolerated in his world. Sometimes people need a heavy-handed reminder of that.
"I've been by your side all this time… Ya won't take me on jobs, barely look my way or even fuck me anymore. I thought ya were more exciting than this, Mista J. Now, you're becomin' boring. When did that skank latch a ball and chain 'round your neck, huh?" She purses her lips, tapping an angry foot against the floor. Instead of the insults eliciting the reaction she wants, Joker throws his head back and laughs.
'Is Harley that desperate for attention that even a beating's better than nothing? She's saying anything off the top of her head to piss me off... And it's working.'
"Heh! You're, ah, pretty funny…" Normally, he would've smacked the spit out of her mouth by now, but watching the rage building in the blonde is more entertaining. Why should he be the only one that's fuming?
"There's nothing funny about this!" With her shoulders raised and voice turning into a high-pitched screech, Joker falls into an endless fit of giggles. She looks like a ferocious kitten ready to bat at him. If he hadn't seen the blonde in action with that oversized mallet, that's all he'd think of her as. The raucous noise causes Harley to become flustered, her face turning a bright shade of red.
This is comedy.
"Why? Why does everything have to be a goddamn joke to you?" His laughter seems to be contagious because it's lacing in with her words. He knows the effect his voice has on her, still cackling as the blonde steps in the space between his bouncing knees.
'Hmm? Is this what she wants?'
"Everything's a joke, Har. Haven't you realized that by now?" Dark eyes narrow on the slender woman when she crouches low, resting her hands on his thighs. The giggling abruptly stops the moment her fingers start running over the pinstriped fabric, smoothing it out.
Smacking his lip, Joker doesn't know what the hell is with these women today. Something's going around and infecting their brains, making these cat's act ballsier than usual. Are they all in heat? Or their cycles lining up from being in proximity to each other?
The clown's not stupid and knows exactly what Harley wants. It's been months since they last fucked and she loves reminding him that no other man has touched her since. Does she think that'll get him going? Or that she can pressure him into doing it by acting like a horny slut on fire that needs him to put out the flames? Perhaps she forgets that he enjoys watching things burn.
She's practically purring, slowly rubbing her hands along his thighs, trying to work her way up. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he silently watches the wheels turning behind those blue eyes batting at him. Aside from their fistfights, this is the closest the blonde's gotten to him in a while. She's taking her time and being cautious, seeing how far this will go before he puts a stop to it.
That's if he puts a stop to it.
"Is that what Daddy's lil' monster wants?" He cackles at his own condescending tone, referencing the shirt she wore from her last attempt at seducing him. A bright smile splits her face, moving closer to run those deadly hands over his groin. That grin quickly fades as her brow furrows, looking between his legs in disbelief.
"Haha… Wha-t? Hate to break it to you, but I already came a few times upstairs. No more lead in the pencil for you. Gonna have to do more than feelin' me up to get it goin'." The grimace on her face causes his chest to rumble with laughter. The noise bounces off the walls of the small room, making the blonde wince as it digs in her ears.
"Are you fucking kiddin' me, Mista J? That's never been a problem before. You've been sitting down here for an hour. That more than enough time." Harley's not wrong, and that's been proven that many times in the past. He doesn't feel like it, and that's all that matters. No one can force him to do anything, let alone a shrieky bitch. If he wants to fuck someone, there's a woman right upstairs that can get him going. Now that's exciting. He's already had this one every which way, and she was used before he picked her up.
"You can always try sucking my cock. That might do the, ah, trick. Heh… You'll have to lick our cum off it first. Or—" Before she can jump back, a large hand latches on the back of her head, yanking on the blonde hair to expose her neck. Leaning close so their noses barely touch, Harley hisses angrily in his face yet still arches forward. She's always liked the rough treatment and apparently still does. "If you want my load that bad, there's plenty you can get out of Sakura. She might even still be awake." There's no way in hell he'd let anyone go upstairs but can't resist teasing her. The former doctor's the one that suggested having an open relationship if it means she can still be with him. That came out when she realized the pinkette wouldn't be killed or disposed of.
No thanks. Molding one woman is more than enough on his hands. It's about quality, not quantity. The same concept can be applied to dog trainers. Spending time to make a single bitch behave properly is better than spreading themselves thin over ten unruly shits and getting no results. A smart man knows which is more rewarding.
Harley freezes as her jaw goes slack, completely in disbelief at what he's saying. Making people uncomfortable is his specialty, and disgusting them is a treat to top it all off. Pushing her will only bring him more entertainment when she finally freaks out, and he knows exactly which switches to flick. "I know you can appreciate good pussy. Soft, tight, sweet, we-t. Nothing's better than being trapped in one with no chance of escaping. Right? We all have our preferences. What was that plant-whore's name again? Ah, yes… Eye-vee? Hers must've been pretty good to get you to bat for both teams. Why don't you try it again? I already have what I want and that doesn't include a bunch of used up, loose sluts that—"
The hand on his thigh wails him across the face, holding nothing back. Harley's shaking, clenching her jaw as tears run down those long lashes. When he smiles wide at the anger radiating from her slight form, she takes another swing, smearing some of his sweaty greasepaint onto her palm.
"Ya bastard!" Harley keeps swinging and her ferocity grows the louder he laughs at the feeble attempts to hurt him. She should know it takes a lot more cause real pain. The scratches along his back are worse than this. "I'll kill ya, then cut that whore's throat!"
A heavy fist connects with her jaw, knocking the blonde backward onto the floor. This isn't funny anymore. He let her ramble on too much and now she crossed the line.
Bolting up, Joker stands over the lithe woman on the floor, his eyes losing the mirth they held just a moment ago. Cold and angry, filled to the brim with hate. When Harley cranes her neck back to look up in them, she can see it too and lets out a shaky breath, knowing what's about to come.
"Whatcha plan on doing? Hmm? I might've, ah, heard you wrong. I thought you said somethin' about killing me and cutting my bunny's throat. Is that righ-t?" Pulling his leg back, the clown grits his teeth and swings his barefoot against her ribs, knocking the wind out. She slides across the floor from the blow, barely able to let out more than a wheeze to his dissatisfaction. A scream is what he wanted…
Harley curls into herself, sobbing quietly. Joker knows it's not from the pain. This woman can take more than she dishes out to others, with a tolerance many in their field wish they possessed. No, the blonde's distraught about what he said and how nothing's working out between them. He's beaten her senseless before and didn't care, as long as she's the only woman in his life.
Dropping to his haunches, the clown shifts his head to the side, drinking in her tears. What a petty bitch talking to him like that. Making threats she can never carry out… He should break every bone in her body just to make a point. There's no way of getting upstairs if she can't walk.
A hand shoots out to grab a handful of light hair, gripping it hard and yanking her head back until she screams. There it is… That's what he wants to hear.
"M-Mista J! Stop!" Harley shrieks, desperately scratching at his wrist to relieve the pressure on her skull. "Let go! You're gonna rip it out!"
"Hahaha… You want to go on the job tomorrow this bad? Fine… You can come." Joker's lips curl up into a sneer, pushing her head down against the floor. She wants to tag along? So be it. Anything that happens will be her own goddamn fault.
'Harley brought this on herself… Should have kept her fucking mouth shut for once.'
"Boss! Boss!" A hand smacks him on the shoulder and he's ready to blow out their brains right in this van when twists around in his seat. The goon in the back is frantic, tapping a finger against the glass. "Look! I think it's her."
If it wasn't one of the men he brought from Gotham, the backseat would be covered in blood for daring to touch him. They've been sitting here so long, Joker must've started spacing out and didn't hear them the first time. Glancing at Rocco, his sweaty, terror-stricken face says more than enough. It's true. The big guy wouldn't appear upset unless he caught a glimpse of her, knowing what it means. Fucking pussy always has a soft spot for women.
"Over there… On the sidewalk. I'm pretty sure it's her, but the hair's not right."
Pushing his face up against the window, the clown's dark eyes dart around from face to face. Searching for pink hair would've been pointless, but he'll know it's Sakura from everything else. Licking his lips, he's practically trembling in his seat from anticipation. It's been so long and he can't wait to dig his claws into her.
Glossing over the sea of heads, there are too many people walking along the busy street. This city's just as populated as Gotham, but the upcoming festival brought even more schmucks than usual, making it almost impossible to comb through them all.
"Where?" Joker is growing impatient and if the man behind him lost sight of her… Well, there'll be hell to pay.
"By the fountain. I'm sure that's her…" His voice trails off as doubt seeps through. If he's wrong, everyone knows what will happen for not only getting the Boss worked up but also tapping him on the shoulder.
Tearing his gaze towards the fountain, there's a large crowd gathered around it. Families, couples, children… People walking along the ledge or making wishes and tossing coins in. It's still cold so they're all bundled up, but that won't make a difference. If she's there, he'll sniff her out.
'Hmm… Where are you bunny?'
Joker's eyes fly open when he sees a couple walking away from the rest of the crowd. A small woman in a thick coat, with black hair sticking out from under a beanie. That face… There's no mistaking it after all the time he's spent staring at it. Pale, soft, green eyes, and that goddamn mark on her forehead.
A heavy breath forces its way from between his ruined lips, and the voices around the van fade into the background. All he can hear is the erratic pounding slamming against his ears, giving him a sense of vertigo. Time stands still as he watches her move in slow motion, bouncing a bundle in her arms to get a better hold. He knows what that is… The familiar dirty-blond curls poking out of the top strikes him like a lightning bolt, shocking him straight to the core. That's his kid in there. The one that little witch stole and ran off with.
It doesn't seem real. Not him being here, Sakura, or the small body she's guarding with her life. Her arms are wrapped around the baby, holding it tight against her like someone might snatch it away. Smart. She's learned to be careful with what belongs to her. The same way Joker has, as well.
'Who the fuck is that?!'
A feral growl builds up in his chest that causes the other men in the van to push themselves further away from him. His entire body shakes with tremors as he grips the gun in his holster.
A man walks down the sidewalk with her, standing too close. Tall, dark hair, and wearing a long coat that has nothing on his own. It's a struggle to stay in the van, to not jump out and start firing on everyone. No, he has to play his cards right or it'll all be for nothing. Going back to Gotham empty-handed is not part of the plan. If he gets out now, there's nothing stopping him from putting a bullet in her and that scumbag's head.
'That little whore… Lying, screwing around, stealing my money and running… Now, she's cheating on me?'
There's only so much that can be forgiven, but this takes the cake. He might've gone easy on her if she came back willingly. She replaced him with some pig, letting him play the part of 'Daddy' in their family.
"Fuck!" A fist crashes down against the armrest, making Rocco jump in his seat. Cursing and spitting, the clown keeps beating on it until the cover breaks off. Glaring at the man on the driver's side, he flinches when Joker growls out in anger, utterly seething and ready to kill.
"Follow them."
"Y-Yes, Boss…" Rocco fiddles with the keys in the ignition, his hands shaking from the panic coursing through him. The van starts up and they pull out of their parking spot, driving slowly to keep a distance between them and their targets.
The clown snaps his jaw in a fit of rage, pressing his gloved fingers together and wishing that man's head was between them. First thing's first… Sakura's recent lover needs to learn his place and pay the ultimate price for his sins against the Joker. His sweet, little bunny's next, and this time, he won't listen to the empty words she whispers in his ears.
"I want you, J…"
He thought the pinkette might be better than other people. That his bunny was finally being honest with him and herself. Things really seemed to get better after that night, and he tried easing up for her. Sometimes, people never learn a lesson and need to keep being taught until they get it right. Unfortunately for her, Joker can be patient and generous when he wants. The teaching won't ever end and she'll find that out the hard way.
'I found you now, bunny.'