It was cold. That was the first thing that she noticed. The second, she could not move. Her joints felt tight and though she tried to sit up, the pain from not moving for a prolonged period of time refused to allow her.

Her eyes had rolled to the back of her skull and it took her a moment to open them. When the finally cracked open, she took in all that she could. She lay on her side in what looked to be a pile of blankets. Her breath clouded before her with every pant. The room, from what she could see was cement. The door must have been behind her. There was a single bare bulb that hung from the low roof that gave the room a sickly yellow hue.

Her heart froze in her chest as a soft noise behind her became known. Another inhale of breath came as whoever behind her shuffeld about slightly. It was then that she remember what had taken place. Fire blood and her men. Her heart throbbed. Her men were dead. What would she tell their families? Their children...

Gregor. Her eyes snapped wide as she remembered him. Someone... someone had taken her. She had been to focused on her men. To occupied and hurt to realise what had been happening at the time. She tried to remember just what the hell had happened, but a sharp throb behind her right eye had her nearly groaning.

The person behind her rolled and she was clasped to a large chest. Lanky arms that were nothing like her Gregors sliding about her smelled like sweat and gas and some sharp tang that made her hair stand on end. Disgust rolled in her belly and it was enough.

She sat up with a flurry of movement and threw herself at her captor with all that she had. Her nails raking against his throat. "Help me! Please help!" She cried weakly. Her voice a dry croak, turing her throat raw. Dizziness and pain seared through her as she grasped a handful of hair and tried to twist it harshly, but her grip was to weak to do much of anything. Each breath she drew seemed to fill her brain with cotton.

Joker reacted instantly and had her on her back, his large weight crushing her tiny frame. He felt a bit of blood dribble from his collarbone. "Shh Shh Shh… It's alright, I'm here" He murmured pressing his forearm across her chest to pin her down, he caught both of her flailing wrists in one gloved hand. The last thing he needed was for her to hurt herself more.

She twisted her head to look into the face of her attacker, only for cold fear to make her do still. She blinked a few times to try and clear her worsening vision. Not true. Not happening. It was the red that cemented it. The red that had stained his lips and cheeks. All the paint had been smudged and melded, fading and gone in places… but the red. "Gregor please" she moaned lowly

They both panted, breath showing in the cooled air. He blinked into her narrowed eyes. Green so impossibly green. A shiver ran up his spine. He craved that unique color. An addict to a drug. Her facial scars were still quiet vivid. But gluttony, the one about her throat was faded. Thin slightly raised marks that spoke of heald pain.

She grit her teeth as she struggled to throw him off of her. Her strength was nothing to him however. "You killed my men!" She snarled snapping at him. "Where is Gregor?! What did you do to me?!" Her ribs ached from his weight atop him.

He leaned away from her clicking teeth as she hissed at him in Russian. Her green eyes wild with fury. Her black hair was splayed about her childish face in bobbing curling loops. She was still so small. If had only been a few hours since he had brought her to this little hidey hole of his. By the time he had managed to get her out of danger, he had been exhausted himself, and had only managed to get her under the blankets beside him before falling asleep. She had grown, but just barely. Her face and body still soft and weak as a child. Though there was an age in her eyes that had not been there before. He could fix that.

"Sem'" her name left his throat on a rasp as he pressed he face into her bared neck. His gloved hand holding her chin to the side so she could not bite him. Fuck, She smelled the same. He drew a deep breath and let it out on a long groan. She was so warm. Perhaps to warm, but fuck it was so nice. Her hair smelled of ash and burnt wood, though the collar of her black sweater smelled of some sweet perfume masked by the smoke. She was alive. Warm and here and alive.

She did not cease her struggle. "Bastard! They were innocent in this! Their children!" She screamed as her eyes began to burn with tears of frustration. She refused to cry. This monster did not deserve any of her tears. She had already cried once in the past ten years and she would not do so for the next.

She continued to spit angered russian at him, his he ignored it in favor of her warmth. He did not like closeness with people. Had never since he had last held her in his arms. But she... she was an exception. she was still his Sem'. There was no mistaking it this time. Not with eyes like those. Fril little wrists and her scars. He pressed a giss against the raised flesh at her throat. Thank fuck she still had her scars. That they had not faded away in her growing up. He let her continue her struggles, she was beginning to tire, and he was reveling in her closeness.

She want still beneath him. Having run out of energy, she grit her teeth and willed the throbbing in her head to fade. Rough, leather clad hands began through her hair. He still had his face pressed into her neck. His sickeningly hot breath pouring over her goose bumped flesh.

"I thought you were dead." He whispered, moving to press his face into her hair. His lips stopping beside her left ear. He adjusted himself over her, laying fully atop her and pinning her small hands between them to free his own. Ins nose trailed over the edge of her scabbed cheek in a gentle caress. His gloved hand fitting about her chin to keep her from turning to bite him again.

Her eyes snapped open. "W-what?" Her voice came out in a shocked rasp.

He smiled against her skin. Finally, she spoke to him in english. He removed his hand from her chin, only after giving a hard squeeze of warning. Bite me and there will be hell to pay. His hand moved down her side until his thumb fit perfectly into the scar of her bullet wound. "I thought you were dead." He repeated softly. That voice. It was Sem's voice. The one that only came when she was near. Soft. Caring. It nearly disgusted him.

Her mind reeled but she shoved her confusion to the side. She did not have time to play like this. He had her. The Joker had her. The fuzziness was beginning to chip away at her vision and she was growing more dizzy by the second.

He hummed against her hair. His chest squeezing. She smelled so good. A feeling of warmth, of rightness surged through him. This was as it should be. Sem' was back at his side. And he would die before he let anything happen to her again. He had already failed once. Now the only problem. She was quite obviously scared of him. Her body was tense and she had even gone to such lengths at to attack him. Lucky for him... he could be quite the charming gentleman when he wanted to stood and left the room I a flurry of coat tails. Leaving her cold and confused on his makeshift bed. She was going into a fever. Stopping to lock the door behind him, he went to go wash his face. She would need new clothes. A fever reducer. Bandgades. Not to mention his little box of magic.

She willed her pounding heart to slow. Her hands went to the sides of her face. She willed the throbbing to go away. Her hands came away, dried blood falling into her lap. Gingerly, she ran her fingers over a large gash in her forehead. It was warm to the touch. And her ear. Jesus her ear hurt. She snapped her fingers close to her ear. She could hear it... but it was as though someone had their hand over it. It throbbed, a deep ache that pounded through her skull and down her spine.

Shivering, she pulled blanket after blanket over herself. She had to think. How to get out? She didn't even know where she was... let alone how to get away... Never had she been in this situation. She had always had the ability to call on allies within the city... Someone sold her out. She grit her teeth in anger. All of that work. All of her men... The Joker was going to pay.

Gregor would save her. He would come get her. She attempted to keep those thoughts in her head, but a soft voice in the back of her skull... why would The Joker leave him alive?

&$&$&$(( ) ) *!*!&*! ($)) ) *!&#&**

She was jolted from her fevered sleep by an insistant shaking. As soon as her eyes opened, she knew that something was not right. Struggling out from under the multiple blankets, she threw herself onto the cement floor. Her stomach heaved.

Her vomit splattered over her hands, fouling the cuffs of her tattered sweatshirt. Her head swam. "S - sorry I didn't..." she swallowed. Yellow, vomit is yellow.

Gentle hands collected her hair as a rough bit of cloth was run over her mouth. "Its just a little bit of a fever. You'll be okay." A soft, low voice murmured in her ear as she was pulled backward into a lap.

A bit of clarity came then. She had been taken... yes... that seemed right. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that had gathered. Taken from... from...

The zipper to her sweatshirt was pulled down drawing her fragmented attention. "No." Her voice was raw. Rough. Her hands fumbled with the large one that was now attempting to slip it off her shoulders

"It has to come off. It's dirty." The voice came again as another hand came and gently lifted her arms.

Frustrated with the situation, she allowed her sweatshirt to be removed. She drew deep, even pulls of air, willing her angered belly to settle. It didn't help. She was cold, freezing, but as she pulled her hands close to her chest, her skin was hot.

Large hands gathered her hair and tied it back. "Here. Drink this and let me see your uh... Cut." He rasped as a cool glass of water was held to her lips. She groaned as she quickly finished the glass.

Setting it aside, he tilted her head back and gazed at the large gash that ran along her forehead moving toward her jaw. Just shy of her right eye. Any closer and she may have lost it. Her right ear was crusted with dried blood. "Can you hear?" He demanded.

She blinked as her eyes rolled in her skull, unable to focus. "I... I... before I could." She whispered as she made to raise her hand to her ear, but a firm grip stopped her.

He tongued at his lips at her words, and drew a heavy breath. Maybe she wouldn't lose her hearing. Sem' was, if anything, resealiant. The proof being that she sat nestled in his lap just like she used to.

He reveled in her closeness, and delighted in her warmth. Her fever made her skin burn, and her temper lessen. She was at this point, delirious at best, for she was now mumbling to herself in slurred Russian, her head had rolled back onto his shoulder.

The cut along her head was warm to the touch. He would have to watch to assure infection had not set in. Pulling a small plastic sack closer to his side, he made a mental note to clean up her vomit after he got her changed.

She lay against him, panting and looking about the room. Her large eyes rolled about, seemingly unable to focus. Pulling one of his old sweatshirts from the bag, he maneuvered her limp. Fever warmed body into the black, thick jaket.

He was quite suddenly struck with a sudden, VERY unwanted awkwardness. He could remember a time when he had said he did not want to make a habit of seeing Sem' naked. Her jeans were however, covered with what could only be her own blood.

Sem' swallowed thickly. "I'm cold." She gasped as he pulled her jeans from her legs, leaving her in not her but her panties and the coat he had dressed her in. Embarrassment flared as her scars were revealed. His fingers trailed over a long gash on her left thigh that rean from near hip to knee. When had that happened?

He nodded, as he settled her within the blankets, and quickly cleaned up her vomit. "I'll uh... go get you some medicine." He grunted as he turned to go. He needed to grab some more wraps from his kit in his office. He had not been expecting such a large wound. Though it did not look to deep. He locked the door behind him. Never could be to careful. She wouldn't get far, but she was small enough to get in some small places that he couldn't. If she did managed to get away and passed out in some small cubby in this old warehouse, she could very well freeze to death. It was supposed to reach only fifteen degrees tonight.

She knew that this was what she needed. Needed him to think her weak. She just... didn't think that she could figure her way through this place. Her mind was clouded and she felt much to ill to remotely was not stupid, and she would try anything to escape. To get back to... Gregor... yes. That was right. Gregor. She wanted Gregor here. For what felt like the first time in at least twelve years she wanted to crawl into a man's lap, and stay there until she felt better.

Normally, that man would have been Uncle. And she wasn't sure if she minded the change. Again however, that voice called that there was no possible way that Gregor was alive.

She closed her eyes as she attempted to regulate her breathing. She lay for what felt like years, it could however, have only been seconds before he was back.

He watched her sleep with a displease burn in his belly and the fog lapping at the back of his mind. She lay sprawled before him, bundled in blankets and sweating. What the hell was he doing? He wasn't some... some seventeen year old boy anymore. He was THE JOKER. He was a terrorist and now he had some little girl in his lap AGAIN.

He shook his head as she shifted in her sleep. This was Sem'! Not some homeless kid on the streets. And he had SAVED her! Had once more taken her from a life that would lead to nothing but pain and death.

He could take care of her. Follow through with the plans of molding her into a great killer. Make her strong enough that NONE would DARE stand against her. His mouth dried at the possibilities of what she could become. Of how GREAT she truly could be!

She woke to her face pressed into a throat, and her arms draped about broad, boney shoulders. "G-Gregor?" She questioned, attempting to sit up. Only for long finders to bury in her hair and press her head back down against the name of his neck.

"Shh shh shh, Doll Face. We're almost there." A low voice whispered into the top of her head.

She closed her eyes. The Joker. She drew deep, even breaths, as she took stock of what was going on. Gregor was dead, and one of her warehouses was gone. Gregor was dead, and she was ill. Gregor was dead and the Joker had her. Gregor was dead.

Cold wind slammed into her back, tossing her hair into her face. Her heart pounded. She was outside. Joker trudged through the snow with a bit of struggle. There had been a gargantuan storm last night and a full foot had piled up and stuck. He grinned as he ripped open the door to is old black truck and piled the sleep warmed girl in his grasp atop the seat. The little shot he had given her would set to work in a few moments.

She made to sit up, to try and see where they were, but all to suddenly, a wave of weakness and fog spilled through her mind. She sagged back against the seat a moan spilling from her mouth. What happened?

Vaguely, she realized that he was buckling her in and then they were driving. She attempted to lift her head, but it felt al though it weighed hundreds of pounds. "What... what is wrong..." her tongue was lead in her mouth.

He smiled as they turned a corner. Smart man. Her temper now taken care of, she would once more have to rely upon him to care for her. This was not the first time he had used this nice little concoction. There had been plenty of others that had come before her. But she would indeed be the last.

He was giddy with excitement. Sem' was back. And now that he had her he was not going to let her go. He had found a small shit hole that he knew he could stash her away in for at least the time being. It was so late now, and with all the snow there were no other vehicles on the road. It didn't take him long to reach the small one bedroom house on the outskirts of north point. The docks here were out of use and the area had fallen to slums. Perfect for him and his needs.

Tossing the car in park, he quickly got out. It had been easy to pay off the woman that had owned the place. Unbuckling Sem he once more took her into his arms.

The drug was in full swing now, and would be for the next few hours, he would then give her, her next dose before it could wear off. She sagged against him, arms dangling limply as he tucked her face into his throat to keep off the icy wind. She attempted to speak once more, as he threw the door open. Though all that came out was a garbled mess.

She blinked hard as she was set down on something soft and sighed heavily at the blessed warmth that filled her limbs. She wasn't even sure where her her arms and legs were anymore. Numbness ate at her senses. Her vision tunnels and swam. "What.. what did you do to me?" She wasn't even sure if the words came out.

Sem' blinked as nausea crashed over her then. She knew that she gagged, knew that she heaved, but she could not feel anything come up. She forced her gaze open, not remember having closed them, and found that she was facing the dirty red carpet.

He went to her at the sound of her choking gasps, bare hands reaching out to take her into his grasp once more. His finger dove into her long long hair. "The nausea will pass soon. Once it does, we can eat." He murmured, setting her against his hip.

She would just need to get used to the drug just as the other had. The first and sometime the second were the worst. "I've got you." He sat, bundling her up into his lap

A thrill ran through his as she turned her face to him, tears pinching her features. "I'm... I'm sick" she gasped head falling to rest against his chest. Her finger, tiny and trembling went to his shirt front and knotted there.

He shushed her. "You're alright. It's almost over. And then we can eat, and then we can go to bed." Jack was ultimately gentle when he cradled her against him. He had forgotten just how frail she was.

In the yellow light of the living room, the bruises that littered her lovely face stood out sharply. Her cut made more gruesome. He knew that the cut on her head and her leg seemed to be the worst of her wounds, and for that he was grateful. He had been prepared for broken bones. Hell even some internal bleeding. But was, if anything, resealiant.

She panted against him, her skin pail, the circles around her eyes so dark they were purple. Her hair clung to her forehead where sweat now beaded. The wound, deep and long was warm to his touch. Her fever would break soon, he knew, but the sooner it did the better.

He ran his hand up and down her back soothingly. And slowly, excruciatingly slow, she settled. Her great shuddering gasps quieted, her grip on his shirt front relaxed.

He checked his watch. Near three hours had passed, and the exhaustion had taken its toll upon her. She would be weak as a kitten. And that was exactly what he wanted. She would need him for even the most basic of things. The drug would make it damn near impossible for her to even walk. Let alone fight him.

He took her into his arms once more as he stood. "Let's get some food, huh Sem'?" He set her on his hip as he ventured into the kitchen. It had not been easy getting groceries. Paid thugs did seem to realize that even he needed to eat.

Her head lolled limply against his chest as she blinked. Her vision had cleared slightly, but it felt as though someone had replaced her brain with cotton balls. She was so tired. Her limbs so terribly weak she could hardly move them. Even if she could the odd numbness ate at her fingertips and toes. She knew he spoke to her. His voice low and soft. Though she could not even begin to try and understand him.

What was happening? What had he done to her? She could not quite gather her thoughts. Though there was one thing that she knew for sure. This was wrong. This was bad, and she was in trouble. Every fiber of her being seemed to know this, apart from her brain. She could remember. Nothing there but white fluffy cotton.

He sat at the small, round kitchen table, a plate of crackers and grapes before him. She would need something light on her belly. After she began to build up a bit of a tolerance, she could have more substantial food. She dozed against him, her breathing shallow. He pressed a grape to her lips. "Eat a bit Babydoll, and I'll put you to bed." He murmured softly, adjusting his hold on her.

As she ate, slowly, but surely, the feeling came. Finally. He closed his eyes at the warmth that bloomed within his chest. Fuck... how long had it been? Near seventeen years. Near seventeen years, and nearly as many girls.

When she had... died... he had been left feeling so... completely alone. Jack had been put in his box to fester in his pain while HE moved forward with the plans. By the time Jack had enough balls to finally wake up, he already had the first. A scrawny nine year old. She had had the right colors. Dark hair, pale skin, green eyes. But... she had just been... WRONG. All of them had been wrong.

No one knew of what he did. The pigs could give a shit about some crack whores missing daughter, or some dumb kid disappearing off the street. Each one he had taken, he had cared for... until they failed him in one way or another. Some feared him. They never lasted more than a day. Others had come so close. Had been near perfect. The sixth, Lucy, being such. He had killed her in her sleep. She had deserved an easy rest, but had failed him all the same.

He now knew that each and every one would never compare. Sem here, her weight against him... bliss seared through his veins. She was still small, had grown only inches. His nose found it's way into her hair. Fuck, she even smaller the same. "I missed you." He rasped tightening his grip on her.

Massive green eyes wheel up to his face, pupils blown. Her scars had been redone. The scabs healing. The cut above her brow raw and angry compared. "S-sleep... please... sleep." She once more sagged against him eyes sling closed.

He smiled as he stood. "Sure. Let's go to bed." He collected a small glass bottle, a syringe, and a life rubber tourniquet from the counter. Strolling down a narrow hall, he pushed a dark wood door open. The bedroom was sparse. He had washed all the bedding early that morning. The duvet was an ugly brown, the sheets much the same. But, they were soft.

Easing Sem onto the bed he gently rolled the sleeve of her jacket up on her right arm. Already the first place he had injected her at was beginning to bruise. Taking up the tourniquet he wrapped it about her arm. She clenched her teeth. "No no. No more" she rasped, shaking her head..

He clicked his tongue at her as he loaded the needle. "By the time you wake up, you'll feel real nice Doll face" he whispered.

** So I'm alive. I stopped working on this story years ago now, and only just started working on it again. I have changed as a person and I'm sure my voice while writing has changed as well. Hopefully the shift isn't to jarring and this chapter still flows with the others. Don't expect to much, but I thought it was pretty dicky of me to just leave it like I did for as long as I did. **