Original Author's Note: The infamous crime duo, Harley Quinn, and The Joker adopt.

A/N: I'm testing new waters here. I noticed the original fic ended on a cliffhanger of which I didn't like… (it being an abrupt stop.) And just cliffhangers make me a little frustrated. So I took the liberty with consent from the author to touch up and continue the series. It's just very tempting to write and I'd hate not to pitch in... By the way, this is all in third-person and somewhat narrated instead of from individual perspectives. At least in this chapter. Thank you for reading the Author's Note. And to be honest I never do that myself. So, good job. Be warned, this is one of my first published fics.

Originally By Fuckingqueenofhell.
Adopted By Monsterousthings.

Chapter One-

…

He was too weak to open his reluctant eyelids. He knew he was going to fade away soon-

But he couldn't die.

Could he?

Still, he couldn't help but accept the fatality that hovered over him metaphorically, the empty place of irony never fulfilled. Claustrophobia kicking in.

Everything had peculiar ways to make him laugh, people, animals, objects... In summary: Life. But releasing a soft chuckle would hurt too much in his current state, it would cripple his mind and body.

And Danny somehow reasoned it was much better to… die. In an alleyway anyways rather than be tortured anymore. It was so cold and serious- objective, that it became twistedly funny.

He liked the simplicity of just giving in. Fading.

It was weak, and he had been strong for so long, he deserved to be weak for once.

If he were anything or anyone else than what he was now, at this point in time, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to care for what happened if he did give up, in that case scenario.

But for what he truly was... What happened when he died?

He was now beginning to worry.

No one knew…

But he didn't feel like being scared, it was too much work. Too much thought and dedication.

And he didn't have dedication like he used to.

So instead, he focused on the metallic scent of blood and the putrid stench of garbage wafting to his leaking nostrils, persistent on mocking his current state.

His all monotone gray clothes consisting of sweats and a tight short sleeved shirt clung stickily to him, no shoes. No hope. His hair was matted and needed a wash. He, in general, needed a cleanup.

Mentally and physically.

Engrossed in these thoughts, cardboard subtly dug into his side meanwhile he felt suspicious nips prodding at his vulnerable hand.

He probably belonged right here. He-

-"Oh!"

A voice penetrated from a distance, rupturing his already aching eardrums.

Danny shut his eyes tighter in a pitiful attempt at ridding the sudden sound, couldn't he mourn for his own loss, alone?

"- you can't always expect those nut-jobs to listen to ya!"

He secretly hoped whatever passerby chose this dank alley would somehow fail to notice him. Or at least scatter if they smelt the telltale of a corpse.

"I know Harley! But it doesn't hurt to just try." Another voice responded begrudgingly, albeit comically.

But he didn't find it funny. Danny couldn't discern what was real comedy or what used to be.

After that, the two voices became incoherent to him, drowned murmurs now reached his ears. The nibbling on his arm was starting to really numb out, if he wasn't so pathetic he would feel it prodding further up to his forearm.

He was tired. Jaded by living. No…

That was too morbid.

But maybe, If he wasn't so out of it, he would've heard two distinct footsteps clacking onto the dirty and cement chipped ground nearing the specific dumpster he laid within. A dumpster ironically he felt right at home with.

Home…

His heart strained.

"Oh, Puddin'."

A nasally happy voice chirped above suddenly. Emotionally reflective, he strained his eyes to see the witnesses, but nothing came of it. What if they called the cops? Or worse, took him to the hospital?

His fingers mildly twitched in a superficial panic, his eyes resisted his attempts at peering upwards. Gravity was a large constant variable.

There was a long drawn out silence, both witnesses above him criticized his laying- dying form. He felt as if they were communicating silently of how to turn him in. Get rid of the smell of blood. The smell of garbage.

"Can I keep him please?"

What? That wasn't right…

Who would want him other than corporate? Surely not complete strangers wandering around in a Gotham alley.

But this was Gotham…

Most of the civilization here strived to kill you, it wasn't reassuring hearing these words. They could be his future rapists for all he knew. He was practically a child, and a defenseless one at that. Being fifteen didn't make him feel any older or better.

They could take him wherever and do whatever.

Not like he had an identity anymore anyways…

These strangers…

What if he was fortunate? They could be understanding, right?

They could be that one percent who didn't want to turn him in or finish him off.

Although his chances were very unlikely, Danny leaned towards the nearly impossible result of his observers trusting him blindly. He hated being at such a disadvantage. More so in his life than ever lately.

So he grasped onto the foreign feeling of hope. He can't recall last time he had it really… Maybe a few days ago.

Maybe this is what dropping dead does to you.

What if his brain cells were already eradicating? What if He was decaying…?

He failed biology.

"No, Harley," A gruff male barked at the feminine voice, "You already have enough pets."

Danny could work with that as long as he was okay…

The feminine voice whined, "But Mr. J, it's not a pet! He can be more!" Pleading and childish awe underlined her begging tone.

There was a long eerie pause before something intangible passed through the atmosphere, the woman squealed in delight.

"You're training him." 'J' sighed seemingly with embraced theatrics, and started to continue throughout the alley, evidently by ebbing away steps.

'Harley' squealed again. Suddenly arms enveloped him in a strong grip ignoring his wounds, he flinched to evade the invasive touch. He didn't want to risk the chances of being taken by psychopaths.

The stranger yanked him from the garbage and flung him over a dainty shoulder with a grunt, their balance wavering slightly. Currently, Danny was in a state of total shock. He'd rather be put back into the dumpster. This was bad…

Very bad.

"First thing! I'm doing is getting you some food." His female kidnapper holding him declared delightfully, and in some sick motherly gesture, rubbed his back in small reassuring circles while she followed behind her companion over the trash tainted shirt he wore. "I promise you won't end up like my other babies."

Suddenly Danny's hope was wavering...

…

Was it hours, days, or even months later?

He blinked lethargically letting his eyes adjust to the dim lights, his pupils oscillating fervently. Danny felt as if he clashed head first into a semi-truck... A groan slipping past his slightly chapped lips, he kept stationary for a while, limbs lax onto a soft cushion… a soft cushion?

Had he passed out the second they left the alley?

Attempting to crane his head upwards, he failed miserably. Head spinning in response, he suspected this was how vertigo is. Hopefully, he wouldn't throw up anytime soon. Danny heavily dropped his head back into the soft pillow it originally laid upon.

"How ya doin', sport?" The same accented female voice asked with a cheery quirk.

Taken aback by how her voice no longer echoed like it did within the alley before, he studiously figured the best way to respond. Eyes found the oddly dressed girl, she was beautiful, but she seemed almost dangerous with stagnant shadows creeping onto her face contrast to the lights from above highlighting her beauty. He was hesitant to answer, but forced a positive response anyways.

He should be terrified.

But If he had to gain their favors, then he would… "Did you get the license of the truck that hit me?" Danny quipped lethargically, inside berating his contrast frown to his light impassive joke.

The grin she already held upon her features stretched further uncannily.

"You're going to fit in fine!" She barked a hyena's laugh and stuck out her hand forcefully, startling Danny.

"Name's Harley, and me and my Puddin' got you out of a dumpsta'."

To say he was surprised was an underestimate with her very blunt choice in words. What if He really did die in there? That'd just be embarrassing now that he had a better sense of clarity…

Danny stared through her, eyes meaninglessly glossed over as his sockets began to hurt from the way he tried to remain eye contact meanwhile facing upwards. Sleep was all he had wanted.

A home was all he wanted...

"Hey kid?" She interrupted his stupor, her raged demeanor deteriorating slightly- a bit hesitant, she asked blatantly.

"Do your eyes always turn green like that?"

He was thinking too hard again.

In a short spout of vigor, he slowly rose to a sitting position, placing his legs over to touch the cold cemented ground. Danny ignored the need to puke as his head spun and throbbed.

Then he remembered why he was in the trash to begin with… But a dumpster?

For a few seconds, he sat in a muddled stupor.

With depressed breathing, his anxiety dictated his next impulsive, sad cracked words, "... Only when something bad's gonna happen." Resentment kept humbly within his rough tone, and without realizing himself, a deeper frown touched the corner of his lips out of character.

He was livid, he didn't care what his kidnapper thought.

A click sounded from her as a 'tsk', "Mr. J is going to like you." Harley nodded triumphantly, albeit steady.

Danny furrowed his raven eyebrows apprehensively, he didn't know her or 'Mr. J' at all…

But now that it's been a few years, he had to catch up with time. See who fetched him from the trash. There was nothing really better to do.

So he reached out one of his now bandaged hands despite it aching, and Harley smiled wickedly, something coolly gleaming within her eyes, "The name's Danny, also known as Phantom." Danny smiled warily, being in a city full of maniacs didn't matter after his years spent.

No one's believed in his alter ego anyways. It was just talk between Amity and some nearing States holding suspicions. Least he could do is invest some trust… Again, there was nothing else for him to do.

"Can't wait..." He chortled shortly, nimble tones vibrating. While both shook hands gratefully, his grip fell slightly lax compared to hers.

Hopefully, this wasn't a mistake.

…

It was a few complex weeks later of organizing and understanding.

"Go get em' Danny!" Harley's voice pierced the vacated warehouse he, Harley, and of course, the Joker resided in for the meantime.

In another gigantic room there was a couch and other everyday items a household consisted of… Exempt a kitchen.

From the sidelines, Joker also looked thoroughly amused as well, a familiar smile gracing his face. Danny felt queasy.

Inhaling a smooth and steady breath his eyes scrutinized the warehouse as he kept his stance ready for a fight, Harley began to count down loudly to start the first round, it was a wonder how no one heard the constant ruckus…

But it was Gotham. Perfect excuse.

Once she reached one, hired and paid Henchmen from hidden areas all around came charging foolishly noticing their target dressed in a red jacket, black jeans, and regular white laced, red sneakers. In his human form, Danny turned intangible last second some of the men charging relentlessly fulfilling their salary, they clashed comically. Upon closer notice, Joker's laugh resounded.

Misery was funny exempt at the expense of your own.

More charged towards him as the others recuperated, and they most likely wouldn't fall for the same trick again. Electric green sparking at his fingertips, the color swung towards his opponents sailing them to the ground and some crates abandoned.

Once the first few had recuperated fully, he dodged a powerful blow from one of the offenders, then shoved his foot hard into the gut. The attacker doubled over, and Danny took his chance to sling him into another offender about to attack.

Joker must be paying these guys a lot. And for him. And, well, probably Joker's own amusement.

Harley's cheers were getting louder and more enthusiastic with each blow. Joker seemingly stood up and continued to cheer too. Danny felt pride tinge his bravery. Such praising coming from two of the top villains of Gotham made him feel important, and most certainly like a person.

He would take any kind of congratulating he could get.

He was diligent and more determined to get back into the fight. Suddenly, ice leaped from his palms and on impact froze the last few henchman's feet together. Danny's techniques held cartoonish means, but they worked, you could ask Harley and Joker.

Figuring to try to please the audience some more, his hands let vibrant Ecto-Energy flood from them once again, and configuring they finally settled into a sloppy baseball bat.

Grinning at the morphed weapon, he sprinted towards the last standing men with practiced precision.

And in a few swift messy motions of the bat. All fell to the freezing concrete, remnants of ice shards scattered around in the slight pools of non-fatal blood loss.

Feeling satisfactory he twirled the makeshift weapon as Harley would do within his hand, and then faced the two members with a triumphant grin. The weapon stung him and he let it dissipate as he hissed. New powers tended to do that.

Joker chuckled.

"You did great!" Harley praised and advanced further to give a bone breaking hug. Her mischievous eyes glinted with pride and something very akin to adoration.

Joker took silent notice, and frowned.

A second later in the least, Harley recognized the sudden tension and turned to Joker from Danny. She frowned also noticing the downwards tug on his lips. Both Danny and Harley didn't quite grasp why.

Danny shifted, he didn't want to be kicked out. Was he on thin ice?

Should he be jumping to conclusions?

"Is something wrong, Puddin'?" Harley asked prudently. She inched towards the Joker, Joker and sent a glance at Danny, and Danny returned the favor.

"There is only one problem." The Joker considered his words mockingly for a few long seconds. He studied Danny for a long while. The next few caught both villain and soon to be, off guard.

"Phantom has to go."

Danny froze completely, the silence only reassuring what Joker said was real and not from the distorted echoes bouncing off the warehouse's cement walls. He knew the opportunity to be with these two were slim, to be honest, Danny was surprised he lasted this long…

Maybe the fact that Harley acted out to be some caretaker of his was something important, she would baby him constantly. But he didn't want to leave.

Was he that unwanted...?

"But-" Harley tried to stand up for him.

Danny's stomach suddenly ached with apprehension and a familiar tinge of dejection, his chest tightened. What? Why?

Suddenly an inane smile broke out onto Joker's features in rapid progression.

Both Harley and Danny didn't catch on, nothing right now was funny. Humorous in the least, this was serious. Harley fiddled with her fingers.

"We need a new name for you!" The Joker exclaimed with a humongous grin.

Joker subtly forewarned Danny about this, this week, as he did Harley. He was at loss for words so he kept mute, a smile spread like butter on Danny's face.

But silently he hoped Joker wasn't giving false hope.

"Welcome to the family, Trickster." Joker said as he gestured his thumb into one of the many rooms that had been closed off from him suspiciously all day.

"Let's go celebrate!" Danny furrowed his brows and Harley squealed. Their attitudes were so flippant.

Soon enough, all three entered the room through a draped curtain instead of a door, a clean mahogany long rectangle table sat idly in the middle of the dark and somewhat spacious room. Old magazines and boxes piled on top of each other on the sidelines. It was hard to make out expressions in the dark.

Danny still had some shock inside of him.

But what was most noticeable, was when Joker somehow equipped a lighter in his grasp. He then started the fire that suddenly wavered on the end of the lighter. And hastily he went to the table and the flames caught onto something as he reached the flame down. After a second or so, Danny realized what caught the fire.

Birthday candles.

Joker lit all five shoved into the middle of a chocolate cake, Danny smiled cheeks sore as he read bold letters, 'Trickster', as clear as day on the frosting in white written neatly.

Cake? He hadn't had that in forever.

Danny approached with a dangerously wide smile. He couldn't muster up any words. His wariness was suddenly gone.

"Wait, Mr. J!" Harley exclaimed, "Our present!" She remembered and rushed away. After a minute of thought filled silence. She retrieved a red box with a white bow primly on top. Harley stopped in front of him, confusion cascaded his features.

Timidly he took the box and opened it climatically on top of the single table.

"You shouldn't have..." 'Trickster' grinned, suddenly departing from the room, he left into one of the warehouse's bathrooms to try it on, during the way he transformed into his Ghostly ego.

Both Joker and Harley shared a very similar look with large keen smiles, the candles wavering upon their faces.

In the alabaster rimmed mirror reflecting the white washed walls behind 'Trickster', Danny was already dressed in his very own jester outfit with minimal struggle, though the bottom half missing currently.

From his wrists down he had black sleeves, and on his hands were short leather black gloves. His suit fit nicely stretching around his form, flaunting his configure, it was flattering. And the colors on the general shirt were half black and white tracing diagonally across, it reminded him distantly of Danielle…

Dismissing such irrelevant thoughts, he slipped on the noir pants to go along with the upper piece. They were baggy, but luckily tight enough to not get in the way of combat.

But the cool part was that it equipped a thin black leather belt that went across his lower and opposite upper hip neatly. It was filled with grenades, ammo, and other essential destruction tools. Luckily they were secure.

The grenades raised his vigilance…

Studying the bottom piece, it very boasting all in itself.

But that was quickly dismissed as he saw within the birthday box a sleek black domino mask to frame his currently electric green eyes. Imagine it in the dark. Danny smiled.

He put the mask on and then slipped on a pair of combat boots from the box reviving familiar memories, he left without tying them.

Finally returned to the candle-lit room, Danny cleared his throat and the two's kissing session- gross, came to a stop sweetly as if nothing of the sort happened. Trickster would usually cringe, but instead he chortled, "What's the occasion?" He asked as he showcased the very fitting outfit.

Harley could barely contain their excitement as a squeal suppressed within her throat.

"I say we stop by Bruce Wayne's party tonight." Joker said devilishly, arms flung out to his side's in a joyous gesture.

He eyed the cake on the table, "I'm sure our invite was lost in the mail..." The former Phantom simpered faux covering his fear, and two laughs followed. All were ready to stir trouble. Well, most.

Danny wasn't so sure…

Original Author's Note: I need to do other things... Anyway, I like the idea of evil!Danny and adoptive parents of Harley and the Joker. Please leave a review that doesn't just say update. I lose interest so fast when I am not encouraged.

A/N: Well, I pretty much rewrote the whole thing reaching 3,400+ words. Hopefully, I can keep as on par with this first chapter as well in the later ones. In my version within this fic., Danny won't be as willing to be evil unless it's impulsive. He has a heart of gold and I wouldn't want to suddenly change his whole character. And just to let you know, Reviews are very nice and encouraging.

Consider it.