It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. All the weight on top of you crushes your body, constricting you more each time you are trying to move. There is a little bit of light coming through the cracks of the collapsed walls all around. And dust…so much dust you can almost taste it each time you inhale.
The Joker is right by you; it’s not hard to distinguish his shape. You’ve been trying to free your left arm for the last 30 minutes and he didn’t move at all. He’s probably dead; lucky him. You’re still hanging on, barely conscious. Was he trying to protect you or use you as a shield? Knowing him, probably the latest. It is your job to make sure nothing happens to the Clown Prince of Crime so you can’t really hold it against him.
After all the struggle, you finally free your hand and reach for him. You touch his cheek and it feels so cold. Is it him or you that’s cold? At this point it really doesn’t matter anymore. You’re in so much pain you almost don’t notice anything around. Shit... what a way to end it all... The numbness makes you aware you probably don’t have much time left. You move your hand again so you can find his. It seems like forever, but you finally find it under the rubble. You squeeze it as hard as you can, wishing it would comfort you. It doesn’t.
You sigh, pulling his lifeless hand closer towards your body so you can hold it better. It’s so slippery, probably blood. His or yours? No doubt both.
At least you’re not alone.
**** You open the door and see him standing there with that look in his eyes. Oh, how you know those eyes and what it means. You slam the door in his face and lock it. Why is he here now?! The Joker grumbles, pissed you have the nerve to do such a thing; he really wants to shoot the lock but doesn’t have the silencer with him and it might attract unwanted attention in your fancy neighborhood. So he knocks again, louder this time.
“Open up, Y/N, don’t make me repeat myself!”
You sit still on the other side of the door, waiting for him to do something insane. J starts kicking the wood with the tip of his shoe:
“If you don’t open this damn door in 5 seconds, you’ll be sorry!”
He hears the lock clicking and rushes inside, watching you slowly stepping away from him.
“Are you deaf ?! You know I don’t like to play games! If I ask you to do something, you Goddamn do it!” he shouts, approaching you with a menacing look on his face.
Enough of this nonsense, you tell yourself as he grabs and forcefully pushes you against the wall, lifting your dress up, impatient. You don’t struggle or attempt to flee, trying to remain calm:
“From all the things you do sir, I didn’t take you for a rapist.” Your eyes stare into his and his body gets tense, pressing against yours.
“I’m not… a rapist!” he shrieks through his clenched teeth, emphasizing the word, antagonized you’re twisting his desire in such way. No woman he wants for the night ever says no to him. This is a first and doesn’t know how to react.
You lift your chin up, defying his blue gaze:
“Mister J, you hired me to kill for you and for extra protection. I’m not one of the stripers working at your clubs,” you say in a low voice, trying to look stern and confident.
Did you just…did you just had the audacity to say such a thing to him?!
The Joker smirks, really wanting to shoot your brains out, but he’s convinced you have at least one weapon on you. Since he hired you for your skills, he is certain you won’t go down that easily. And you already ruined his mood for today, so it’s no fun.
He lets you go and takes two steps back, readjusting his silver jacket, cracking every little single bone in his neck and shoulders. You pull down on your dress, passing your fingers through your hair a few times, deeply upset at the situation.
You just look at each other for a few moments, not moving.
“One of these days I’m gonna kill you,” he snarls, still panting and mad at what just happened.
“I know boss,” you bitterly reply, aware he means it. “But I’m not going to let it happen.”
You don’t even have time to say anything else because he charges at you and slaps so hard your skin burns instantly. You cover your red spot, standing up straight again in front of him.
“Do not hit me again, Mister J!“ you threaten and he’s amazed you have the courage, but didn’t really expect less of you. “I didn’t survive the agony of an abusive home just to have someone doing this to me again!!” Your tone changed and you feel you’re almost choking with indignation. You didn’t want to reveal such secret but it slipped out because you’re on the edge. “Do not hit me again, please!”
J doesn’t really know what to do with this crazy behavior of yours.
You’ve been working for him for half a year and you had no idea you will find yourself in this kind of position. Why the sudden interest in you?! He has enough girls around. You never encouraged anything. And you never thought of him…that way. Well, maybe once or twice when you saw him walking shirtless around the penthouse, but nothing more. You know better that not getting involved with a man like him, no matter how tempting and power intoxicating it may sound.
He claps his hands, laughing maniacally:
“Wowww, what a show! Bra-vooo! Really Doll, who do you think you’re talking to?!” he suddenly changes his demeanor and shoves his finger in your face, his temple twitching under the rage he feels building up in his chest. “Don’t you ever dare talking to me like this! EVER! Got it?” he shouts, grasping your neck and his rings dig in your flesh, making you wince.
“Got it,” you whisper, wanting him to get the hell out already.
“You’re lucky I need you,” J grins, tipping his head to the right, then brings his face close to you, sniffing your hair. “But you are not irreplaceable so I wouldn’t fuck around if I were you.”
You bite your tongue and faintly touch his fingers, using just enough strength to remove them from around your neck.
“If it’s all the same to you sir, I’m going to continue my evening,” you mutter, distancing yourself from him and going in the living room. The Joker suspiciously watches you as you go and sit in your recliner and start watching TV, ignoring him. Or so he thinks. You are so not ignoring him: on the verge of a breakdown, your senses are enhanced to the maximum. You certainly didn’t expect such events to take place tonight. ""If he tries something else, I swear I’ll kill him. Or he can try and kill me, but I’m not his toy. I’m not one of those girls he likes to keep around to play with. If he strikes me again, one of us will die tonight", you repeat in your mind, over and over again.
You hope he already left when you notice J’s green hair with the corner of your eye. Why is he still here?!
“What are we watching?” he sighs, taking a sit on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table.
Good gracious, get out of my house already.
“Pacific Rim,” you reply without looking at him, concentrating at the screen.
Neither of you say anything else for the rest of the night. When you decide to look over after the movie is done, you see him asleep. You don’t wake him up and just retreat to your bedroom.The next morning when you get to the living room, he’s gone.
At “work”, you both act like nothing happened. You sure hope he’s over it and will leave you alone. Right... like he ever lets something go.
****My pizza must be here; that was fast! you excitedly smile when you hear the doorbell.
You open the door and…oh, no!
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to rape you or to hit you,” the Joker gestures, dramatically rolling his eyes . He pushes you out of the way and heads towards the kitchen.
“I’m not worried,” you sigh. Why is he here again?!
“What’s for dinner?” J puckers his lips, getting a cold can of grape juice from the fridge.“Awww, you got this for me?”
“No, I drink it too,” you answer, annoyed.
“I was being sarcastic,” he scoffs.
“I know, but I still want to make sure you don’t think it’s for you.”
He chuckles, amused:
“My feisty assassin, you’re not afraid of me, aren’t you? I can make you be very afraid.”
“I’m sure you can sir, but right now I am going to get into my Jacuzzi and wait for my pizza delivery,” you cut him off short and you go on the deck, tossing your robe to the side and getting in the bubbly water. You hope he got the message and left himself out.
“Now this must be relaxing,” he comes outside, starting to strip by the tub.
Why is this happening to you?!
He leaves his boxers on and gets inside the opposite side of where you sit, staring at you while you read your book, totally quiet. After a while he’s bored and begins playing with his phone while you make it a point pretending he’s not there.
**** In the next three months he drops by all the time, uninvited. You are so fed up with it you don’t even bother locking the door anymore, knowing he’ll get in anyway if he wants to. For the most part he just gets in and hangs around, a lot of times you barely say a few words to each other. He is like the unwanted guest you can’t get rid of so you kind of trying to cope and see where it will lead you. Most of the days you totally ignore each other, just like you wouldn’t talk to a roommate you can’t stand. Great company…
Sometimes, when you sleep in your bedroom, you can hear his steps on the wood floor. The Joker got in your house again. You know it’s him because oddly enough you’ve learned how his steps sound like.
One morning you open your eyes and there he is, sleeping right beside you. It startles you a bit but you realize he doesn’t care about anyone’s privacy so why should he care about yours? You watch him for a while, not wanting to move because you really don’t know how to react to all of it if he wakes up. Out of curiosity, you touch his pale forehead, softly trailing his “Damaged” tattoo. You don’t know why you expected his skin to be as cold as ice. You smile at your stupid idea: of course he’s warm, he’s alive. You catch yourself wondering what happened to him, why he became like this. You definitely know what happened to you that made you the way you are. That thought makes you tear up, you don’t want to remember. You get enough determination to slowly get out of the bed and go take a shower.
The Joker was pretending to be asleep when you touched him. He doesn’t really know why. He doesn’t even understands why he keeps on coming to your place just to have you around when you obviously can’t really stand each other at this point. He doesn’t really comprehend all these emotions that make him feel weird when he’s around you. One of these days I’m really going to kill her, he promises himself before leaving your bed and heading out, mad again.
**** At the club, you stand at his right, keeping an eye out for things while another bimbo sits in his lap, giggling every time he whispers something in her ear. You are alert and concentrating on what you’re doing, that’s why you didn’t hear the question first time he asked you:
“Jesus, you never get jealous?!”
“I’m sorry boss, what was that?” you turn your attention towards him, noticing he’s irritated.
“I said: you never get jealous?” he yells so you can hear him over the loud music.
“Jealous about what?!” you shout back, confused.
He growls, aggravated and pushes the girl away.
“Get lost!” he commands, slapping her ass as she’s walking away.
“Com’ere!” he signals you and you make another step towards him before he yanks you and you land on his lap. You fight to get up immediately, but he holds you down tight.
“Mister J, please let me go! I’m not one of these girls that work here; this is degrading!” you plead, squirming again.
“Since when sitting in my lap is degrading?!” he mutters in your ear, considering snapping your neck.
“That’s not what I meant sir, I just…”
You don’t get to finish your sentence because J suddenly kisses you, taking you by surprise. He starts purring, making you feel light headed and you find yourself kissing him back. He tastes good and… metallic- just like a bullet, you think, locking your arms around his neck. You hate yourself for it.
**** You open the door and he throws the keys at you:
“This is yours,” the Joker states while you look at the red Lexus parked in your driveway.
“I really don’t need this flashy thing; I have my own car, sir,” you sigh.
Dammit, you knew this will happen.
“If I can drive my God damn purple Lamborghini around from time to time, I’m sure you can get away with this one, hmmm?” he raises his voice and you know he’s pissed.
“Of course boss,” you gladly accept just to make him shut up. You shouldn’t have kissed him.
**** You get inside, whimpering in pain. You see something move in the darkness of your living room and you are quick to draw your gun, aiming towards the shadow.
“It’s me, not a rapist; calm down,” you hear the Joker’s voice as he turns on the light. He will always throw that in your face and…he let himself in again. “What happened?” he frowns, seeing your bloody shoulder.
“Occupational hazard, but Jayce is dead, just like you wanted,” you take a deep breath, putting your gun on the table and heading towards the bathroom so you can patch yourself up.
“Lemme do it,” he offers, following you.
“It’s fine, no bullet inside; it’s a clean wound, I’ll be fine.”
“Shut the hell up, woman, and let me do it!! Christ, you irritate me to death!!” he shoves you around and sits you on the edge of the bathtub while cleaning and dressing your wound. He’s not being gentle because you annoyed him again and you keep on jumping every time he touches your painful injury.
“Stay still! Quit your wiggling, I thought you are not afraid of anything,” he scolds you, huffing.
“Dying alone,” you whisper, biting your lip.
His hands stop for a moment, then he restarts what he’s doing, pretending he didn’t hear.
**** He put you to bed and lingers by your side. You wish he wouldn’t. After the painkillers kick in, you fall asleep.
Something ticklish wakes you up. You feel groggy and a bit confused until you realize that what you’re sensing are kisses all over your face. You open your eyes and meet the Joker’s staring at you.
“Wh-what are you doing, sir?” you ask, moving your head backwards, away from his touch.
“Stop calling me that; I hate it,” he mutters and kisses your lips, closing the gap between your bodies again because when does he ever care about personal space. His grip around your waist intensifies as he begins kissing your neck, going down towards your cleavage.
“Want me to stop? I don’t want to be accused of raping you,” he inquires and you distinguish the mockery in his husky voice. “Well?” he asks again, biting your skin, waiting for the answer.
“I’m debating,” you reply, surprised that came out of your mouth.
“Just tell me when,” he snickers, unbuttoning your shirt.
You didn’t tell him to stop when he got your clothes off, you didn’t tell him to stop when he roughly kissed you and bit all over, you didn’t tell him to stop when he made love to you all night.
You feel a slight movement of his fingers in your hand. You turn your head towards him:
“Hey boss, you still here?”
A low growl followed by a deep breath:
“Stop calling me that; I hate it,” he manages to utter, coughing. “Where the hell are our men? A-Aren’t they digging around for us?!”
“All this dust settling in makes everything worst. I can barely breathe,” you complain, wheezing. ”I really thought you were dead, “ you moan but can’t really cry because you don’t have the strength.
“Nahh… not yet. Didn’t you say you are afraid of dying alone? I thought I should be a good employer and keep you company until the end,” the Joker tries to laugh but the pressure of the crumbled walls on top of his body stop him from doing so. “Here!” he moves your hand holding his towards him and places it on his chest. “You can feel my heartbeat as long as it’s still here, this way you don’t feel lonely… I don’t want people to say I’ve never done anything nice for anybody… Oh, jeez, really?” he scoffs when he hears you whimper. “Are you really gonna cry on me? It’s so unlike you, I don’t like it.”
“I can’t even cry,” you struggle to lift your head a bit but give up. “You’re such a shitty boyfriend,” you squeeze his fingers, panting.
“I’m not your boyfriend you pest! I hate you.”
“I hate you too, you didn’t even take me out on a date, you just wanted some,” you keep on rambling, the bitter taste in your mouth almost making you gag a few times. “What kind of person just shows up at someone’s house uninvited all the time? You are so persistent in annoying me; I really don’t know what to do with you anymore.”
Your words are getting slurred and he realizes you are probably going into shock.
“Hey, hey Doll, look at me, stay with me,” he slowly blinks, getting sleepy but he knows it’s not from being tired.
“Don’t call me… that…I…hate…it…” are the last words he hears from you.
When the henchmen finally dug you from under the rubble, they found your hand into his, clenched to his chest. They tried to separate your fingers so they can help you better but couldn’t. They had to give you first aid the best way possible considering the situation and were so relieved when they realized you’re both still alive. Broken and in very bad shape, but alive.
You woke up first in the back of the van, lying on the sleeping bag and watching as the Joker opened his eyes and cautiously looked down at your joined hands on his bloody chest.
“Let go of my hand,” he asks with labored breath, but doing the opposite and squeezing yours even harder.
“You first,” you barely manage to say.
“I will; I don’t want people to think I’m raping you or something.”
“Shut up,” you frown, pulling yourself closer to him.
He will never let that go.