A/N: This is the end! Thank you all for sticking through this story with me. This is the first story I've ever finished, so this is a fairly big milestone for me. I will be posting the sequel, titled "Assistant Of Insanity," (Joker's POV of this story with behind the scenes-type stuff) very shortly. Warning: Sex. Badly written sex, IMO, but please bear with me. Anyway, thank you all for reading, following, etc. Some days your reviews and follows have made my entire day better. Thank you.

Two months Later

I stared at Arkham Asylum's newly built Medical Center with emptiness - with sponsorship from the Wayne Foundation, they had a new one built (with better equipment) in no time. Staff members celebrated, the aware patients groaned, and the ones who were so far gone weren't even aware of which year they were in. This was the last time I would see that building, let alone be on Arkham Island. I knew resigning was best (Dr. Arkham allowed me to come back after some argumentative phone calls, and board meetings. I was given the first month off and had a few therapy sessions for the supposed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder I had from the night with Joker). I worked only a few days in the hospital, taking most of my scheduled days off, because being there without him, wondering where he was... it all felt meaningless.

How stupid you were to think he'd pop up when you'd stay most of your nights there, waiting. Why would he come back here? This place is old news for him.

To my great surprise, Ivy never tattled on Joker and me. We had a session together, and she told me she liked me enough to not say anything - of course, I did sneak her in a package of plant food... We carried on the session as they always were; at the end of the session, she threw me off by saying it was nice having a therapist who tried to understand (and appreciate) someone who cared for nature, and didn't want to harm "her children." When questioned why she was suddenly saying all of this, she said she figured I was quitting since "the clown got to me," and being in the hospital would be a constant reminder.

She could stop asking how it wasn't she who got to me first instead of Joker.

I hugged my jacket to my body (which had slimmed down a little from lack of appetite) and turned on my heel to walk away from the place that housed the man I fell in love, and into madness, with. I obsessed over the news resources of Gotham (and some nearby towns) to see if he'd pop up. Nothing. He literally disappeared into thin air, and the police were losing interest in finding him with Mr. Freeze being Super Criminal of the Month (a good portion of Gotham was frozen, hence the jacket in the middle of May).

By the time I reached my car, it was nearly dark. I knew not to stick around outside of my apartment for long, especially since I had to travel through the Narrows to get there. I didn't know what I had planned without my job - I couldn't plan anymore. My life was just a series of motions that were stuck in a loop of mind-melting boredom.

Okay, Holden Caulfield.

Derek's funeral was not only awkward, possibly the most uncomfortable event I've been to in my life. His parents mourned the loss of their son (and his remains, thanks to Joker blowing up the building), his band members (excluding Kaylee... who was deeply missed by the band members) looked worn out and in despair. I didn't cry - I just put on the "still in shock/trauma" face and wore it through the service. People were very sympathetic towards me and Derek's family, to which I expressed my (fake) gratitude and waited for the service to hurry up and be finished with.

My father hung around up until a couple weeks before I handed in my letter of resignation. He stayed in my place, and tried to talk to me about what happened. I didn't give away many details, continuing to act traumatized by the loss of my fiance/sort-of-husband. After he went back to his home, my obsession with finding Joker grew, and my paranoia was on overdrive. Part of me was convinced he'd send one of his goons out to collect me; each day that passed without someone popping up in a clown mask to throw me into a van was another day I felt my guts melt away into nothing.

I visited Derek's grave site only once - why, you may ask? Why bother going at all after everything that happened? The possibility of a henchman grabbing me up, of course.

He might be in a different city, and might have a new woman now. You're old news. By the way - that bruise healed nicely. Surprised you're not pissed at him for hitting you.

I don't even know what to think any more.

After that one visit, it felt pointless to try again. Besides, after everything I went through with Derek, hanging around him in death seemed just as big of a waste of time as it was when he was still alive.

I arrived in the underground parking of my apartment building and shut my car off, feeling my insides burn from the lack of enthusiasm towards life. After locking my car, I made my way towards the stairs and stopped when I saw, "Happy Anniversary" spray painted in red on the wall of the stairwell. I stared at it briefly and shrugged it off.

Graffiti isn't exactly an abnormal thing to come by in Gotham...

Once I was inside my building and called for the elevator to take me to my floor, I saw a couple of guys standing nearby, who were dressed in all black, and looked slightly grungy. I swallowed hard, knowing that some of my neighbors could have some... unpleasant... company. When I stepped into the elevator, there was a rose taped to the wall.

What the fuck?

Paranoid after all the days I'd spent with Ivy, I didn't touch it. For all I knew, she might have had her own possessed goons out working for her. All it took was one touch and you'd be screwed... and not in a good way.

I stepped out of the elevator, and ten yards later I was at my front door. I unlocked the door and stepped into the pitch-black apartment, squinting and feeling paranoid as I shut and locked my door. I flipped on the lights and felt my stomach dropped as I stared into my kitchen, which was not as I left it - bread wrapper open, can opener left by the sink, an apple core (which had been sitting for hours on the counter) near the stove... I had company, and I was terrified.

I grabbed my baseball bat from my coat closet and tip toed into my apartment, and saw the dark archway to the living room, where a TV was on, which cast a glow on whoever was sitting on my couch with their back turned to me.

Oh, holy fuck...

As soon as I got close enough, a voice I longed to hear spoke to me.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said as I heard a familiar feline purr. "You wouldn't want to frighten, uh... what's your name?" Joker asked my cat, who was laying on his back in Joker's lap, receiving a belly rub that was probably better than any catnip I could give him.

He didn't kill my cat... He's here... This has to be real - no hallucinations are this real... that I've had, anyway. Say something, you idiot!

"H-His name is Maxwell," I said as I dropped my bat, letting it roll against the back of the couch. "You're here... I thought you were gone forever."

I walked around to the other side of the couch, and was greeted with the image of him that was first established in my mind: green-tinted hair and makeup (which I was used to), and his purple suit with the matching leather gloves. He had his feet up on my coffee table, which made his pant legs slide up enough to admire the brown socks with odd colored shapes on them.

He quickly got up, which sent Maxwell on red alert and land on his feet just in time, then scuttled off to probably hide under my bed, or watch from the top of the fridge. He was a bit of an odd cat.

"Like I told you, Lainey, you're mine," he said as he roughly pulled me against his chest.

"Sorry for hitting you, by the way, doll. You needed to sell that story in order for, uh, this to happen..." He smirked as he pulled me down on the couch with him.

"Where were you?" I asked as I felt tears form in my eyes, hugging him tightly.

I tried my best not to tremble against him, fearing his reaction to my emotional outbursts. Him in my apartment... it was overwhelming - a sense I should have been used to by that point in time.

"Coast City. Laid low for a while, and kept my men at work to bring me whatever I wanted. That includes information on you, Lainey." He wiped my tears, then gave me a light smack on the cheek. "I heard Daddy was around for a while, and you haven't been eating. You also quit Arkham. Shame - I was thinking about going back! That place just really screams 'home,' doesn't it?"

I heard him lick his lips, which made me look up at him. His smile widened.

"Well?" he asked as he stared down at me after a couple of seconds of silence. "No 'how have you been, Mr. J?'"

I leaned up and kissed him, which made him immediately grab my throat. I flinched, but remembered that some sudden movements could create a response like that with him. He relaxed his hand and kissed me back.

What has happened to you, Joker? Why won't you ever tell me your name, or your story? Better yet, tell me why in the hell I'm capable of having feelings for you. It should have been me locked away in Arkham. Nobody who's sane would get themselves into a situation with someone who so many have dubbed as a 'monster.'

"How have you been, Mr. J?" I asked as I pulled away to suck on his earlobe.

His smile widened.

"Bored as hell! We are not going to Coast City, Lainey. I couldn't lure out any cops, or... interesting vigilantes." He snickered, which turned into a low moan. "Why aren't you back at our Ha-Hacienda? Or were you thinking of sharing a room? That might be even better - you and me, locked in a box for eternity. Just think of the fun we could have..." He pulled his gloves off and tossed them on my coffee table, then slid his hands up my shirt to unhook my bra.

"I couldn't handle being there any more without you," I said as I kissed his lips.

He pulled away to yank my jacket off me, which left my arms feeling a little sore from the rough treatment.

"Aw... Sentiment." He grabbed my face and pulled me down so I was meters away from his face. "Normally I would kill someone for being that way..." he said quietly, "which, you should know, I have done in the past."

He licked his lips, his tongue barely grazing my lips.

"But since you're talking about me... and I like you... you can get away with it. For now." He roughly kissed me while literally yanking my shirt open; I cringed at the sound of buttons flying off and hitting the floor while fabric ripped.

He grabbed my hands and placed them over the button on his pants, which I took as a hint to get to work with unbuttoning them. After doing so, I unhooked his suspenders and pulled them down as much as I could, trying to focus on undressing him and entertaining his tongue was a slight challenge since I was still in shock.

"You're quieter than I remembered you," he commented as he broke our kiss to suck on one of my nipples. "Maybe this will help you out..."

I let out a loud moan, making my cheeks burn and him snicker into my breast from amusement. I pulled his underpants down, and stroked his hard dick, already slick from pre-cum.

"Mmmm... I can't wait to bury my dick inside you," he said as he kicked his pants off. "Do you want it?"

"Yes," I said breathlessly as I grabbed a handful of his hair and felt the cleaner-than-expected texture grace my fingertips.

"Louder," he taunted.

"Yes," I said a little louder while closing my eyes, feeling my insides burn from desire.

"Louder!" he demanded, voice raising.

"Yes!"

"...much better!" He laughed as he lifted me up and carried me into my room, which took me by surprise as I gripped his shoulders.

"I wasn't going to drop you," he said as he let me go to fall on the bed. "Move over, now. No need to be a bed hog!"

I quickly moved and pulled my pants down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lick his lips as he watched me like a hungry dog. As soon as I was completely naked, he straddled me and had his fingers by my already slick entrance.

"You are beautiful," he said quietly as he stared down at me, seeming to take in my entire body. "Do you like this?"

I arched my back as I felt his finger enter me, making me breathe heavier.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, reaching up to unbutton his waistcoat.

I stripped him down to his shirt, which I got to work with getting off of him quickly.

"What do you want to do to me?" he asked while I was caught up in staring at his numerous scars on his chest and arms.

"Ride your dick," I said while reaching for his balls. "Let me ride your dick, Mr J. Please?"

Another amused laugh escaped his lips, followed by a moan that made him stop moving his finger inside me.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard..." he said breathlessly as he rolled us over so I was on top.

Christ, he is strong...

I positioned myself over him as soon as his hand got out of the way. I slowly lowered myself down on him, feeling part of his hand hit my ass from holding his dick.

"Ohhh, fuck," he groaned. "Oh... You are much more fun than I originally anticipated. I think you're going to find all kinds of ways to amuse me."

I felt myself melt over his widening smile, and picked up my pace. I could feel the tip of his hardness hitting my inner walls, making me shake from the long-overdue sensation.

"Tell me what you want," he said as he held onto my breasts, his thumbs massaging my nipples.

"I want several things," I said, panting as I worked my hips as fast as I could against him, feeling so close to going over the edge...

"Do you want to come, Lainey? Want me to make you come?" he said as he reached up and roughly grabbed my hair.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, touching his hand out of instinct.

He let go of my breast with his other hand and placed it on my ass, then rolled us over so he was on top. He started driving himself into me with enough force that made me question whether or not all of my internal organs would stay inside me. I moaned loudly, earning an amused chuckle from him as he thrusted, harder and harder, his dick going all the way in every time.

Oh, he's good at this... How many women do you think he's practiced on?

Shut up. Go away. This is the best moment of my entire life.

He laughed quietly as I half-yelled when I hit climax. He continued to fuck me with all of his strength through my orgasm, making me see stars and the room spin. He was beautiful - those eyes staring down at me with such intensity; sweat dampened his brow, and dribbled all the way to his collar bones. His torso was solid with muscle, so lean, yet so filled out. He was a man - a man that was able to satisfy every animalistic need I had. Scars, insanity, and makeup aside, he was the most fuckable man I'd ever met, and he was by far the best I'd ever had.

He lasted a good five minutes longer, making me ache in my womanhood, before he finally reached his peak. His hair was wet with sweat, his head tilted back... the mere sight made me wet. His makeup was streaking and wearing off by then. Even so, I wanted to see his naked face again - only once did I see him without it, and he was still beautiful in his own way.

After Joker got off of me and laid next to me, he grabbed me by the side of my face so I was next to him, noting the makeup smudges on my pillow.

"Remember, Lainey..." he started as he tightened his grip on my face, "you're mine. This little... thing... we have? I think I was right from the start - it's just going to get more fun from here." He laughed and kissed me roughly. "Let's go paint the town red, Dollface..."