Authors Note: HI FRIENDS! I'm so sorry this took so long, I just really wanted a perfect finale.

Before you get your knickers in a knot I'd like to inform you that I'm currently working away on the second instalment of this series, and I hope to be posting the first chapter of that fairly soon- A.k.A weeks, not months from now. And on that note I'd like to apologize again for my sporadic posting!

I also want to thank everyone who has been reading- words can't express how grateful I feel to each and every one of you and I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it! As always I would love to hear your feedback, so let me know what you think 3

And now, much fussing and many hours, here's it is- endings are always bitter sweet, aren't they? Much love and many hugs to you all,

xoxo, Sewer Angel

P.S: Warnings for gore on this one, folks. Proceed at your own risk.

CHAPTER 17: Free Jeezy

I wake up bright and early with a smile on my face, promptly getting dressed and eating a hefty breakfast of eggs and bacon. I drive to work 30 minutes ahead of the shuttle so they won't see me walking in after I park my car behind my designated thicket. When I get through the security check, I head straight down to the cafeteria for my morning coffee with the kitchen staff. I smile, I crack jokes about sleep deprivation, and I help shuttle plates and plastic utensils until one by one they all disappear and I slip out the back of the kitchen to head for the delivery entrance. It takes me about a minute to pick the lock- lucky for me Brieve's security upgrades haven't reached this section yet, so they haven't switched over to key cards.

When the lock clicks open I do a shoulder check before pushing open the door just a crack to look for the ground patrol. Seeing no one, I push it open a little further, digging into the pile of leaves outside for my duffel. When I find the strap, I yank it inside and shoulder it before carefully closing the door. The feeling of walking away with that thing- the knowledge that I'm strutting through the halls of a high security correctional asylum with a bag full of weapons and no one even gives me a second glance- it is absolutely exquisite.

Making it back to my office I stow the duffel under my desk and start to play pretend. I imagine that this is a normal day and I go through the motions. I go to sessions, I get coffee, I reply to emails, and at precisely twelve, I tuck my seed packets into the front of my skirt and I go down to see Ivy.

Abbey is her usual bubbly self when she greets me and processes the mini DVD player I brought for Ivy. I respond in kind until she gestures for me to go through the decontamination chamber. I bite my lip and my brow furrows.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I ask the question like an apology and the concern on her face is immediate.

"Of course." She reaches out and squeezes my arm, her smile warm and comforting while mine is hopeful, but weak.

"Ok, um, this is really hard for me to say, but you've always been so kind to me so I'm just going to go for it." I take a deep breath, pressing a hand to my stomach and Abbey nods in encouragement. "My boyfriend and I have been trying to get pregnant for two years now, and I- I keep loosing th-" My voice cuts out and I drop my face into my hands as Abbey begins to coo, wrapping herself around me.

"Oh sweetie," She rubs my back and I take in quick, sharp breaths like I'm trying not to cry. "I understand," Of course you do, you aren't going to a fertility clinic because you have too many kids. "Losing a child is the most painful thing a woman can experience. Are you…?"

I nod, wiping false tears away as a hopeful smile pops up on my face.

"I'm just so worried that it's going to happen again- I haven't had sugar in months! All I eat is kale and salmon and I can't even use normal cleaning products because the chemicals could reduce my fertility!" My rant has become feverish, and Abbey is eating it up, patting my back and nodding with such pure empathy that it would bring tears to my eyes if I hadn't already worked some up. I make a show of calming myself, and when I have my breathing under control I squeeze her hands.

"I don't want to stop visiting Pam, but… I'm sorry; I can't go through the defoliant. I just- I don't know what it could do, you know? I can't risk it." My voice cracks and I look down.

"I…" She begins sheepishly. "Maybe I could let you through." I have to lock down my triumphant grin.

"Abbey, I could never ask you to-"

She shakes her head. Yahtzee!

"It would have to be our little secret, ok? You've been such a good influence on her, and I don't want her to lose you. You can walk right through the chamber, just don't close the door behind you."

I bite my lip, and then I nod gratefully.

"You're amazing." I gush, giving Abbey an exuberant hug. "thank you so much, honestly. I won't speak a word of this."

"It's no problem," Abbey smiles. " I understand completely. And good luck, sweetie- with everything."

I give her hand one last squeeze and then I walk through the defoliant chamber unscathed. I manage to hold off on my happy dance until I get to the elevator, but the dance is absolutely necessary because I need to expel all this excessive energy. I need to be a smooth operator- the doors begin to open and I cease my jig, assuming what I hope is a casual stance as I exit into Ivy's area. She's already on her feet, kindle set aside, and the look on her face makes it obvious that she knows what I'm packing. She looks like she's about to cry, her large hazel eyes are uncharacteristically wide and glossy, her lips parted with uneven breath.

"I brought you another present!" I exclaim, holding up the DvD player as I close the distance between us.

"What is it?" The question is too quick, nearly desperate though she knows exactly what it is.

"Fern gully." I shift the player to my left arm so that I can obscure my right hand from the camera when I slip the seeds out of my skirt and push them into the back of the DvD case. "I wanted you to see it and I had this old portable player kicking around…" I set the player and the DvD in the delivery tray, sliding it through. Ivy immediately snatches up the gift and holds it tight to her chest.

"Thank you." Her words are nearly monotone but there's a feverish light in her eyes that promises blood. I'm quite sure my grin does the same.

"You should watch it around 9 tonight. I'll be home by then so I can watch it too- it will be like we're watching it together!"

"You're a nut." Ivy rolls her eyes but she's beaming now that the initial shock has worn off. "I will. I promise." The sobriety of this oath is the reassurance I need, and just like that, I'm one step closer to him.

It's an effort to make myself move away from the glass and take a seat- after all I have hours to waste, but this anticipation is eroding my affected calm and all the excitement comes exploding from my mouth. I expel torrents of words about absolutely nothing and everything from a ranked list of my favourite Abba songs to a monologue from grease, and Ivy just sits there with an expression that's just as bemused as it is entertained. Normally I feel like an asshole when I do this, but somehow the exchange (if you can call it that) is comfortable, and when my lunch hour ends I actually do feel a bit calmer.

But now I have to wait, and it's excruciating.

At 8:55 I head for the stairs and the tremors start on the first step. Just vibration at first, thrumming up through my feet and rattling the iron handrail. Then the ground shakes and I stumble, nearly taking the rest of the stairs on my back. I frantically grab for the railing, managing steady myself and then clinging to it all the way down to the bottom. When I get there I wait outside the door; just a few seconds until the alarms begin to blare, and then I push through screaming. I sprint, half tripping in feigned desperation on a mad flight to the guard booth, and I slam into the glass door, banging my fist against it.

"Help!" I cry, pressing my I.D. card to the barrier. "Please, please let me in-" I babble frantically and the guard inside scrambles to unlock the door.

He's pretty young and he looks absolutely terrified, which is perfect- when he opens the door I push inside, whipping out one of my throwing knives. I kick the door shut and I slash at his throat, gasping when hot blood hits my face. He gurgles as I crouch to divest him of his passkey, and I roll him over onto his stomach so I won't have to give his dead eyes a peep show. Nearly quivering with excitement, I strip out of my bloody work clothes to change into my new uniform. I trade sensible hose for black and white striped stockings, my blouse and skirt I switch out for a leather dress with long sleeves and thick, buckled straps across the front. The right half, over my heart, is cherry red, the left a glossy black. I figure the leather will provide some protection, but I went for flexibility over armour in the leg department. Finally, I take off my heels, lacing up my special boots-

"Neil?" Shit.

I look up just in time to see another guard pressing his face to the window. His eyes go wide and he swears, backing away as I grab my spiked bat from the duffel. I know I need to get to him before he calls for backup because he's probably the only guard left on this level, so I throw myself at the door and I've got my fingers on the lever when another tremor rocks the building. I manage to brace myself against the door, but the guard is thrown completely off balance and he falls onto his back. I take advantage of the stun by throwing open the door and swinging my bat down hard against his face.

I know he's dead by the wet crackles his head makes when I pull back, but I whack him about 6 more times before going back into the guard booth and racing to paint my lips red and my eyes black before the next quake. When it comes I'm ready, and I brace myself. This time the lights flicker, but only for a second before they buzz back on. The sirens never stop; battering my eardrums as I shove the guns into a Looney Toons backpack I got at the dollar store, filling my brain with static when I attack the command center.

This is it- He is on the other side of this; I'm about to set him free.

A flood of adrenaline makes my fingers shake as I bring up the control screen for cell 8 and swipe the passkey to authorize entry. Then I'm off, I'm sprinting for the cellblock, bat in hand. I push through the heavy doors and the next tremor throws me forward as it bathes everything in darkness. I wait expectantly for the system to come back on, counting to five- then reality sinks in.

I'm on my hands and knees in the isolation unit of a high security psychiatric facility, I'm functionally blind, and if the backup generators haven't kicked in so the doors are going to unlock. That's a little design flaw I came across when I was doing my research- if there's no lag before the back up comes on the system works great, but if more than five seconds pass, the locks disengage. Apparently they didn't think the patients would figure it out, but I wouldn't put it past them- especially not the worst ones. As if on cue I hear a click, and it's far too close to be J.

My first thought is that I'm lucky they can't see me, but I can't see them either. I can hear them though- just faintly over the ringing in my ears, and I realize that the sirens have cut out. The only sound in this place is the pounding of my heart and a rasping breath high above me.

Fuck.

I tense all of my muscles, not daring to move for fear that I might give myself away. There's no way they didn't hear me open the door, so I can either attack first or stay still and hope that they pass me- my mind jumps erratically back and forth between the two options but neither is particularly appealing until I realize how close the breath is, and I freeze. I can smell sweat and something metallic as they near, footsteps slow and strangely soft. I can almost sense the wiry body above them as the escapee treads dangerously close to my hands. Then, they stop.

My nerves clash with my unwillingness to move, and I cringe against the cold fear rising from my belly. Each second is long and arduous. Every breath they take, every shift in their posture is a grain of sand pushing down on my chest. The air I've been holding in begins to burn my lungs, and I'm starting to think I'll have to attack when finally they begin to pace slowly away. Still, I don't take a breath until I hear the door open and slam shut.

Once my head stops spinning from the deluge of oxygen I stand, putting my hand on the wall to my left and before I think I'm running, counting the doors as my fingers brush over them until I'm there. He's on the other side, and it isn't even locked like I thought it would be- I'm not sure this is real as I wrap my fingers around lever and pull. Without light from the hallway outside, his cell is pitch black and I can't hear anything inside. I take a tentative step forward, half worried that they've moved him when static cuts the downy silence, and dim red emergency lights switch on overhead.

I honestly couldn't have asked for a better entrance.

His head snaps up and he squints for a moment before a chemically intoxicated grin splits his face. His pupils are massive, nearly eating up all the green in his red-rimmed eyes. His hair is an utter mess, now faded and sticking up in every direction and he looks stunning.

Though he's still restrained in canvas and chain they've let him out of the gurney, and he sits against the padded wall in a deep slouch, long legs kicked out straight in front of him. He looks far too comfortable for someone who went through major surgery last week, but then again he also looks incredibly high. It would be funny if it didn't break my heart that they would dare lock him up and drug him like this while he's still recovering, and suddenly I'm on my knees next to him, grabbing at the chains they've used to keep him in his straight jacket. It takes me too long to pick the lock because my fingers are shaking and it feels like every nerve is firing all at once, but then he's laughing.

Ecstatic, haunting, beautiful laughter- it fills me up and calms my raging mind, it forces out all the anxiety, all the fear and the uncertainty until there's nothing left but him. He's everything, and he's perfect. He keeps laughing as I forgo undoing the straps, opting to cut them with one of my throwing knives instead. His laughter gets bigger, tossing his head back as I clutch at him desperately, wetting the front of his jumpsuit with my tears. I allow myself a moment to press my face to his chest, breathing him in and it is euphoric but we need to go so I force myself to pull back, unzipping my backpack.

I've kept my eyes down this whole time- the enormity of what I'm feeling would overwhelm me completely if he saw it. I stare at the numbers stamped onto the front of his jumpsuit as I pull one of the guns from the bag, but when his fingers wrap around my wrist squeezing hard enough that my bones crunch against each other, I have to look up. He's still grinning but it's different as he takes the gun, it's clear and savage, it's triumphant.

"Good girl..." I don't know if he's talking to me or to the gun, but I'm beaming, swelling up under his praise.

"I gotcha this too!" I bubble, pressing a new purple switchblade into his empty hand.

"Soo thoughtful…" He croons and his voice is dark as he flicks the knife open, something close to lust in his eyes as he watches the scarlet light play across its smooth surface. "It's a pleasure to meet you Harley Quinn," His gaze is back on me, sharp as the blade in his hand and twice as lethal. "would you like to play a game?"

I don't need to answer; the question was completely rhetorical- I'd follow him anywhere and I do, taking his hand and letting him drag me out of his cell. Aside from a slight sway in his step he seems fine, at least not outwardly displaying any pain with the sudden motion. I'm half worried and half amazed- I mean does he just not feel it or has he healed enough already that the pain is negligible? If it's the former he could rip his stitches and-

His fresh laughter cuts through the budding panic, and my joy overwhelms me instead. I'm laughing now too, giggling wildly-

"For the love of Einstein, will you shut up?!" I fall out of my skip, turning toward the voice instinctively. Eddie.

At first I feel gut wrenching guilt that he's still down here- has he been in solitary this whole time? But then I remember the embarrassment, the shame that I felt when Leland told me that he'd asked for a new therapist, and suddenly I'm whirling. I swing my bat hard against the steel door, making a clang that echoes painfully. I scream with it, swinging again. I'm about to go for a third when my bat is wrenched from my hands and I'm pulled back from the door by the neck of my dress. J slides casually in front of me, pushing open the slat over the window and peeking inside.

"Sorry, Eddie- didn't mean to interrupt your you time, Harley's just a little over excited, you know how kids get-"

"Harley?" Eddie sounds surprised for once and I smirk. "Dr. Quinzel?" His face appears behind the bars, mouth curved into something like disappointment. "I thought you were better than this-" He sighs "You seemed smarter than the rest of them. I guess even I'm wrong every once and a while."

The Joker turns to me with his brows arched, mouth curved into a mockingly scandalized 'O'. I jut a hip out, cocking my head to the side.

"Yeah, yeah Edward, ya talk big game but last time I checked I'm the one that broke into this place, and you're the one who's still locked up! But hey, maybe I'm not that smart after all, cause I seem to have forgotten how to unlock the doors- do you remember Mistah J?" He rubs his chin, screwing up his face in feigned concentration.

"You know cupcake, I don't believe I do- well, shucks!" He exclaims. "See ya later alligator!" He chuckles, slamming the slat shut in Eddie's face and then racing for the exit like a kid heading for the stairs on Christmas morning.

I'm not far behind when he throws open the door and its like I've taken off a set of noise canceling headphones in the middle of a warzone. My ears fill with shouts and screams, wailing and crashing and somewhere far off, gunfire. At one time this would have been absolutely, bone chillingly terrifying, but I can hear the music and it is exhilarating.

"Greedy brat." J has eyes on the guards I mangled on my way in, and I can't help a cheeky shrug. "You started playing without me- seems only fair I get a head start." He's running before he's finished speaking, bolting for the stairs and whooping with laughter and leaving me to sprint desperately after him. So this might not end up being the smooth breakout I was hoping for, but thats cool I can handle that. I just need to roll with the takes the stairs four at a time and I struggle to keep up- honestly, with the height he has on me he doesn't need the head start so I'm relieved when he darts out of the stairwell on the next level, even though we're nowhere near the cafeteria. My relief is short lived when I realize we've stumbled into medical, which means we're definitely going to run into someone.

J switches abruptly from a sprint to a jaunty stroll, he even starts whistling. Meanwhile I'm still out of breath, starting to panic ever so slightly about our odds of getting out, and that panic ramps up when I hear several sets of footsteps coming quickly in our direction. I only have time to pull my gun, but J does a spin as they round the corner, firing off a shot that would seem haphazard if it didn't nail on of the guards in the forehead. There are three left, decked out in full riot gear and seemingly glitching as they stand frozen, staring at us.

"Whoops!" J throws his hands up, gun swinging dangerously from a pinky and they flinch, bringing up shields and brandishing stun guns. Naturally, he ignores them, planting his hands on his hips and leaning forward to address the fallen guard. "Didn't see you there, muchacho." He giggles wagging a finger at the corpse

"Freeze Inmate!" The outburst is too high for the burly man it comes from.

"Aww don't hold it against me, Rambo!" J pleads with thick sarcasm, standing up straight and dropping his gun. I flinch at the clatter it makes when it hits the floor, I keeping mine at the ready. "You know what they say about dancing with firearms… or was that running with knives?" Without warning, he darts forward and the switchblade appears out of nowhere before he buries it in the gap between slats of Kevlar over Rambo's lower stomach. He cackles, pulling out the knife and stabbing it in again, and again as the remaining men scatter. Without thinking I'm darting around my lover and his prey, pointing and squeezing the trigger.

I catch the closest guy in the back of the leg and he goes down, hitting his fellow escapee and knocking him to his knees. I'm sprinting after them and it's all instinct, just a shark chasing blood as I slam my bat against the downed man's back. He screams, and then fire rips through me in rapid cramps that roll out from my shoulder and throw me to the ground. I shove through the pain to rip out the leads, but when my eyes clear I realize that my attacker has already dropped the Taser, and he's advancing with his baton-

Out of nowhere J's switchblade dives deep in his eye socket, and he hits the ground. He saved me!

"Thanks Mistah J! You're the best." Ignoring the horrible pins that still wrack me, I sit up, turning to beam at the man of my dreams.

"Anytime cupcake," He grins easily, sauntering forward to retrieve his knife. "You'll finish off that last morsel, won't you? Show daddy what you can do…" The end of the sentence is nearly a growl and a thrill runs through me as I take my bat, crawling up from my knees to stalk the last man not-so-standing. He's dragging himself along on his elbows, leaking blood from his mashed face and his shattered knee.

"Hey mister jailer…" I sing, taking a wind-up swing with my bat before bringing it down on his ankle, and he wails when it crunches. "It ain't very nice to skip out on a game like that." I kick him in the side, rolling him over onto his back so he can see me shake my head. "You abandoned your teammates!" The broken man throws his arms up over his face in some pathetic attempt to banish me, and I knock them away with old trusty, whose nails rip right through his protective gear to break flesh.

"Don't put your hands up when I'm talking to you!" I screech, losing focus momentarily as I whip around to look at J, who leans against the wall. "Can you believe this guy?"

"No manners." He tsks the man, who's been reduced to a writhing mass, having abandoned all hope of escape.

"Are you a coward mister?" He shakes his head fervently but I doubt he even knows what I'm saying, so I drop back to my knees, setting down my bat and taking his face in my hands. "No? You're a good man, huh?" He nods; eyes squeezed shut as a rattling sort of whine pushes forth from his gritted teeth. "I thought so." I wink at him, patting his cheek. "Look I'm gonna give you a shot, ok? You just gotta scream for me." He nods again, desperate once more, eyes opening wide and delirious with the blood loss. "C'mon baby, scream!"

He does, he howls and I shove my gun into his open mouth.

His head explodes backwards and paints the sterile white walls in red and gooey greyish-pink. Suddenly my head is spinning deliciously and I'm laughing so hard I can barely breath- I feel high. I roll onto my back, clutching my stomach and J leans into my field of view, his face upside down and above me. His pupils are larger than before and I don't know how that's possible, but he way he looks at me sets me on fire.

"How'd I do daddy-o?" I giggle, intoxicated more by him now than by the kill. His brows pinch down abruptly, and he crosses his arms.

"Fine- for a novice. He straightens, glancing disdainfully at the brain-spattered walls. "Your realism could use some work." With that he's off again, walking away from my splatter painting. I scramble to my feet, and I'm running after him when I hear the stairwell door slam shut behind me.

"HEY!" The thunderous bark is punctuated by a stutter of gunfire.

J snags my arm, pulling me with him and around the corner into the adjacent hall as rubber bullets ricochet off the wall next to his head, missing him by an inch. Just as soon as he's taken cover he swings his arm around and fires twice. I hear two distinct thumps as bodies hit the floor, and my angel giggles into the following silence.

"Think fast!" He shouts suddenly, darting forward.

He slides across the opening, firing off two more ace shots as he goes and the remaining three men respond with a torrent of bullets, cutting me off from him- oh no, I am not letting this happen. I crouch, leaning out from the corner and aiming quickly to free three bullets. I let my arm drift up with the recoil, hitting the closest man in the groin, the chest, and right through the plastic faceguard on his helmet before I duck back to my cover. The other two advance, littering the ground with hot rubber that makes the air smell singed and thick. My blood is coursing with adrenaline but I wait until the farther man appears in view to I hold down the trigger, ramming bullets into central mass. I don't take a breath before I pivot out from the corner, sandwiching the last guy's head between the wall and my bat. His helmet turns into hard plastic shrapnel, so there's no doubt that he's down for the count. I'm about to celebrate because holy shit that was intense, and I just shot like three dudes!

Then I realize that I'm the last living thing in this hallway- I've lost my Joker, and the air is gone all over again.

I race down the hall he disappeared into, frantically checking shatterproof windows for any sign of his vibrant self. All I see is a bunch of doctors huddling under desks, pissing themselves, and I'm about to break down one of these doors and do some butchering because this cannot be happening- a frenzied knocking breaks my violent ideation and I turn to the sound. Bradley stares out at me through the window of a medical containment room, and for a moment we both freeze, him with something like fear and me with shock. Then he smiles in his dimly apologetic way and he points down towards the doorknob. I snap out of my panic and bend to pick the lock before pushing open the door.

"Why are you in here?" I block the opening with my body just as Bradley moves forward and he flinches back, which is quite satisfying.

"Jo-" He starts before apparently deciding that it sounds too familiar. "the Joker, he just shoved me in here-" My heart jumps and I snatch the front of his uniform without thinking.

"You saw him? Did he say where he was going?"

"No!" He flaps his hands next to his head like thats going to appease me. "He just came outta nowhere and ran off that way-" He points to the left with his thumb.

"Thanks Bradley!" I release him, and I'm about to pull the door closed again, but he blocks it with a foot.

"Wait! Doctor Quinzel, you gotta let me out, I just wanna go home! I won't tell anybody- I never tell anybody!" I don't give myself time to wonder exactly what he means by that.

"Look," I sigh, folding my arms. "I ain't got nothin against you, but if Mistah J put you in here he did it for a reason. I ain't stupid enough to undo the things he does- are you?" Poor Bradley's eyes widen at the implication of consequences.

"Uh- no Doctor Quinzel." He shakes his head and I grin.

"Didn't think so. Might see ya later, but hopefully not! Oh, and thanks for that pep talk ya gave me," I lean forward to plant a kiss on his sweaty cheek, making him blush. "That was real sweet." This time when I slam the door he isn't weary enough to react, and I'm running again, heading left.

I shove through the doors at the end of the hall into a darkened doctors lounge, releasing a growl of frustration upon confirming that it's empty. I'm about to turn back when I notice that someone's broken into the vending machine. There's a smattering of candy bar wrappers carpeting a pile of broken glass on the floor just in front of it. A glint catches my eyes in the thin red glare, and I squint to recognize another wrapper near the door that leads to the surgical units.

I dash forward, mind screaming that every second I waste is a second he could get farther away. I've got a hand on the door when something hard and hooks around my neck and yanks me back from my destiny. I'm pulled back against a lean body, and as a makeshift razor comes up in front of my face I smell sweat and metal.
Just like in the solitary unit.

Godamn it.

"shh-no-shhhhh… I'm going to free you from all that flesh."I recognize his thin, ravenous voice immediately. It's Victor Zsasz. Victor fucking Zsasz has me by the neck. "I was waiting for a piggy, and then you just walked right in!" His voice goes high and sharp with his zeal. The sound of it makes my world file down to a pinpoint as my heart pumps what must be pure cortisol. Not the good kind though, the shaking, gut-clenching, cold sweat kind.

"Of course it was you, I knew you were there, in the dark- oh the blade always knows-"

I interrupt his pre-slaughter ramble by throwing my head back and smashing it into his nose. His grip weakens enough for me to break loose but he kicks me hard in the back and I go down on all fours, trying not to faint with pain shooting up my spine. He yanks me up by the collar and shoves me forward, intending to crack my head against the wall, but I manage to get my feet up ahead of me. I kick off the wall, slamming back into him and knocking us both to the floor. I try to roll away, but he gets me by the hair and then he's crouching over me, the blood on his face turned black by red light as he presses a blade to my throat.

Fuck. It's not supposed to end like this. Not now, not tonight, not when I'm so close to actual freedom, so close to him… This is everything; this is my life's work- not the work of a few weeks or a number of months but the culmination of my every breathing moment, everything has been leading to this. My life has been preparation for him, and it is not for Zsasz to take. I'm about to try and knock the knife away without slitting my own throat when the doors are thrown open and I freeze. The strangely flat stutter of rubber bullets rips into the the room and then Zsasz flies off me, hitting the ground in a pile.

I'm only relieved for a second, breathing hard before I realize that the guards who just saved are going to want to lock me up too. The thought send cold jolts through my nerves as I scramble to a low crouch before the group of men, reaching for my gun. When they lower their weapons, I pause, and then I notice that the air doesn't quite smell right. Yes there's the tang of burnt rubber but there's something floral drifting over it, something soothing and heady that makes me lower my gun as well. Two of them move forward in an unnatural sort of unison, and as they pass me I see nothing on their faces. A massive grin breaks out on mine.
Ivy- It has to be!

I watch with undisguised awe as her zombified men collect the unconscious Zsasz. Then, still moving as one, they march across the lounge to exit on the far side, and I start to laugh. I know I shouldn't draw any more attention to myself but I can't believe what I just saw! I'm still giggling when I start running, shoving through the swinging door to the surgical ward. I don't even feel the pain that shoots down my legs from the bruising at the base of my spine because I can hear him. I can hear him babbling, whistling something just slightly off key, and before my brain catches up with my body I'm bursting in to operating room number three. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the white light in this room, turning everything blue after so much red. When they do, the sight of him is like a lungful of pure oxygen clearing my head.

"Ah, Doctor Quinzel!"He clasps gory hands as he turns, revealing a smile he's drawn onto his surgical mask, which is the only piece of sterile gear he's bothered to put on. "I was just about to call you for a consult."

He strides forward, clapping me on the back and pushing me into the middle of the room. The high watt bulbs that light the surgical stage momentarily blind me, but then I realize that the woman in the chair is Warden Brieve. Her eyes widen in recognition when disjointed saccads finally take them to my face, and I smirk. He's already cut her open; he's made a nice hole, right in the top of her head. A section of her skull sits on the metal table beside her, along with a variety of vicious instruments and a few more candy wrappers.

When J comes up behind me, I reflexively stand to attention. Then he props an elbow on the top of my head, rubbing his chin in apparently deep thought and I nearly melt.

"The good warden here wanted to lose some weight, and who am I to deny her? We just can't decide if she wants to lose it from her frontal lobes or her temporal lobes."

I cross my arms, leaning forward as if to inspect the specimen.

"Just take a little of both!" I shrug, dropping my feigned professionalism to beam up at him. "You can trash the fusiform gyrus- it's not like she needs to be able to recognize faces. While you're down you could take care of her superior temporal sulcus too. She'll see the world in snapshots! It'll save her a hell of a lotta time. Why not have your cake and eat it too, Doctor J? You deserve it."

"I do, don't I?" He giggles. "I deserve it so much that I'm going to treat myself to her orbitofrontal lobe too. I think she's due for a personality change." There's a charge in his voice, snapping through the air and drawing him closer to his prey.

"Shall we?"

I bound into a ready position next to his tray of tools and he lines up the endoscope.

"Forceps." I hand them over and he goes to work. His movements are precise, easy, and I can tell by the way his eye are crinkling that he's grinning under the mask.

"Cannula."

His excitement is palpable as it threatens to burst through his skin, and that makes me excited. I'm watching an artist at work. I'm assisting him! I'm honestly starting to think this is all just an elaborate wet dream- I feel like Meredith Grey and I am totally gonna bang McDrea-

"Snickers."

Pardon?

"Snickers!" He snaps in response to my blank stare. "Snickers bar!"

Belatedly, I notice the half eaten chocolate bar in the front pocket of his jumpsuit and I snatch it, pulling back the wrapper. I push up his mask and hold it up to his mouth so he can take a bite as he pushes the cannula down into the midbrain.

"Hey how come you're going down there?" I peer forward to watch him insert the thin tube. "I thought you were gonna-"

"Electrode." He says, rolling his eyes.

I oblige, and when he slides the electrode into the cannula, Brieve's eyes go even wider than before. She starts screaming through her gag, trying to thrash against her vice tight binds though they wont let her move an inch, and she knows it. My mouth pops open when I realize that he's decided to directly activate her fear response through her amygdala.

"How'd you learn to do this Mistah J?" I release the sentence in a reverent breath, because seriously- how genius is this?

"Oh y'know, pooh. I just have a way with knives." The pet name makes me blush but the threat in his tone sends blood somewhere else, and I have to look down as he goes back to his masterpiece, chuckling.

We set into a flow as he works; I move faster as he does, learning quickly to anticipate his demands as I study his process. Every incision and injection, every cauterization is clean and purposeful on his way into the temporal lobe. I'm so mesmerized by it that I don't notice the door until J abruptly abandons his scalpel to snatch a syringe full of Kainic acid from the table. He doesn't waste any time jabbing it up through the top of Brieve's eye socket and pushing down the plunger, and he leaves the needle in place as the acid eats her orbitofrontal lobe, calmly removing his mask and turning to smile at the two guards that have stumbled into the room.

"How can I help you folks?" His tone is jarringly polite as he strides forward and they balk, raising unsteady firearms.

"St-stand down, inmate!" Shouts the guy in front.

"What does that mean?" He asks, still advancing."You know I've always wondered- stand down- what do you want me to do? Lie down? That seems awfully demeaning-" Suddenly his arm comes up, knocking the gun away and wrenching the unwitting guards helmet up to slit his throat with a scalpel.

"ALL UNITS TO SURGICAL, THE JOKER HAS ESCAPED-" I was so focused on J that I forgot about the other guard, and now he's screeching into his walkie as he sprint for the door. "I REPEAT-" I raise my gun and pull the trigger as fast as I can, but it's already too late- they know and they're coming, and now he can't finish his work!

Its like he's thinking the same thing because a rumble issues from his chest and shoulders hiking up as he whirls around to glare at the now unconscious warden. His eyes switch to the dead snitch and then back to the warden, and I catch just a hint of a grin before he snatches one of my pigtails and drags me out of the room. I stumble as he pulls me back down the hall toward the lounge, struggling to keep up with his stupidly lengthy steps.

"I'm real sorry we lost her, Puddin." He freezes and I immediately realize my mistake- I'm not supposed to say that out loud! I attempt a cute apologetic smile but it comes off sheepish.

"I don't know what you just called me, but it was awful and I never want to hear it again." I mime a zipper across my lips but I don't have much confidence in the act and he glares at me. "More importantly, that was your fault, you should have seen him!" He barks, making me jump. The his expression switches from jagged cruelty to nearly sickening sweetness. "But that's ok, Harleykins. You might make mistakes, but I never do- I don't lose anything. Now be a nice girl and break daddy out of the slammer, hmm?"

"One breakout coming up, Pu-" He cuts me off with a growl and I squeak. "Heh- uh, Mistah J! We just gotta' get to the cafet-" He's already running. Mothefu-

"Move it, Harl!"

I'm glad he seems to have forgiven my slip-up, but the guilt of it still clutches at me as I sprint to catch up, so I watch the way his hair moves as he run. I focus on the way his eyes flash as we burst out on the far side of the lounge to find another two guards, I revel in the way the bone and tendon of his hand pulls taught as he executes them each with a bullet to the head. He knows I'm staring, and he rolls his eyes as we head into the stairwell, muttering something about needy little twits, and then something along the lines of:

"Ought to maim that dame." Which he follows up with: "Heh, should be a game show." And then, after apparent contemplation: "I'd win." He manages to talk to himself all the way up three flights of stairs and the strange, mostly violent musings force me to giggle though I'm barely breathing from the exertion.

I slam into his back when he halts on the flight below the landing that exits onto the main floor. I manage to latch onto the railing at the last second just managing to avoid losing my balance, so I'm fairly confused when I look back to find him reaching up to the landing above.I'm about to ask what he's doing when I hear the door above swing open and he pulls back his hand, griping a guard by the ankle. There's a burst of gunfire as the guy goes down, comically taking a few men down with him. The rest of them move on us immediately, and I get behind him, holding bat at the ready as he races up the remaining stairs to meet them. I'm expecting a bit of a fight, but he's like a human grenade when he hits the knot of people, an explosion of sharp edges and blunt force that shreds through them like paper. Holy shit.

And I thought the surgery was amazing- this is impossible.

I'm semi-aware that I'm wearing a dopey sort of grin as I take out the few stragglers he leaves behind. I'm becoming increasingly distracted by the mere sight of him, I feel it flush my face and knot my insides. I'm reeling but he doesn't even stop to celebrate when he finishes off the last man, he just moves on through to the main floor with a business like composure as I stumble dizzily behind.
I swear I'm leaving a trail of cartoon hearts.

He keeps going too, he tears down anyone that crosses our path and I'm so busy watching him that it takes me a second to notice what's happened to the west wing. The walls of the cafeteria are crumbling, perforated by thick green vines that writhe like snakes. Also there's something that looks like an angry, oversized rosebud in the corner of the room.

"Hey, hey, not the face!" My eyes snap back to J, and I find him standing magnificently in a pile of bodies.

"I get any more scars, I might as well cut it off." He laughs, raising his hands entreatingly. The last man stands in front of him, shaking with his gun pushed up between my Puddin's eyes. Lucidity hits me like a mallet and I start forward to destroy the guy, but J puts up my hand. I comply with what I think is considerable self- restraint.

"You look a little queasy, kid- did you eat something funky for lunch?" J rubs his stomach sympathetically, completely ignoring the gun to his head. "Here, let me help you- I know just the thing-"

He kicks the guard in the stomach and sends him stumbling back to hit the big angry rosebud, which promptly opens up to reveal long, sharp teeth and swallows him whole. My jaw drops in utter shock, and a quick glance at J reveals that he's almost as impressed as I am- he's definitely hiding it better though. He catches me staring and pins me with a glare.

"I see I'm not the only friend you've made." His eyebrows arch, daring me to respond. I close the gap between us without thinking, but at least I have the sense to keep from wrapping my arms around him.

"I needed some muscle!" I shrug, trying to brush it off but his nostrils flare

"I'm sorry," He hisses "Have I been slacking off- have I not slaughtered enough sheep for you?" He's leaning forward with the force of his rage, pupils suddenly reduced to pin-pricks. A shiver clenches me but I lean through it, pressing a palm to his chest. I feel the warmth, the racing thrum of his heart and my breath flutters with the butterflies that burst from my stomach.

"Oh no, Mistah J! I ain't ever seen anyone kill like you." The words come out in an unintentionally lascivious purr, and I feel my eyes widen in shock at my own audacity. One of his eyebrows jumps up out of his scowl and he purses his lips as he studies the rush of emotion on my face. I want to kiss him. I should, I should just do it. It's a horrible idea, but I want to so badly- he straightens, moving out of range though I attempt to follow on tiptoes.

"You look like road kill." He says it like a matter of fact, but there's glint in his eye that tells me he's waiting to see me hurt so I give him a great big smile, and I fan out my fingers to frame my bloody face and my frazzled pigtails. He scowls.

"Well?" He grumbles. "We're in the cafeteria, what now?" One foot begins to tap, and he strokes the trigger of his gun with his index finger.

I'm not willing to test him, so I make a beeline for the kitchen, heading for the delivery exit to pick the lock. I'm about to check through the window when J pushes ahead of me, throwing open the door and strolling out into the yard without a care. A moments panic makes me hesitate to follow him, but then I realize that Ivy's already taken care of the guard presence outside- The yard is barely recognizable.

The paved drive has cracked, bursting with vines and more of those carnivorous rose buds, and the trees beyond the fence have grown wild, pushing closer to the building and reaching up to the sky with limbs bearing bodies that sway gently on organic nooses. They're like great big wind chimes, and I feel my lips part with awe as we pass beneath them.

Naively, I hope that J might like them too, but the tensing of his stride informs me otherwise, and I begin to gnaw my lip. I'm leading the way but only by an inch, and I track him from the corner of my eye. I wonder briefly if he's jealous of Ivy because of me, but then I realize it has to be the bodies. The thought makes me smirk just as he trips dramatically, barely managing to catch himself before he hits the ground.

J wastes no time in whipping out his gun to fire on the offending root, but it dives beneath the soil just as the rounds make contact. He releases a frustrated roar through gritted teeth, and he goes to kick at the dirt when another root pops up to block him. Then a thick branch connects with his back, and he hits the dirt.
What the fuck is going on?

I stand, frozen dumbly as the tree twists around and then swings again, and its heavy branches smack against the ground just as J rolls out of the way. He scrambles to his feet, re-loading his gun at warp speed to shoot at the tree before it lashes out again and he has to duck. The towering oak doesn't react at all to the gunfire- probably because its a godamn tree, but when it launches its next attack I throw myself into action, darting in front of J.

Miraculously the branches halt, and I only feel the rush of air that precedes them. I manage to breath, dropping my arms from their protective position in front of my face, and I stare uncertainly up at the oak, shifting from side to side before raising my voice.

"Uh…Ivy?" I don't know what I'm doing- can plants even hear? "Could you not attack Mistah J? This ain't a very nice way to thank me for breaking you ou-" There's a sudden yank on my ankle and the world tips upside down.

I'm swinging wildly, dangling upside down and screaming like a cat on fire until I realize that I'm just hanging here. When I open my eyes I see J, finally grinning again as he watches me flail six feet above the ground from a vine. I give up my struggle, trying to give him a cute, appeasing smile as my face turns red with pooling blood.

"Hey Mistah Jaaaayyy?" I draw out the question in his name, pitching my voice up. "You wouldn't mind helping a girl out, would ya?"

"I dunno Harl," He snickers, crossing his arms and stepping closer. "I kinda like you like this. Might leave you here for bats to find you with your skirt up around your waist." He giggles, flicking my nose to make me squeak. "He'd be so embarrassed-" Abruptly, he's yanked backward as a knot of vine wraps around his waist. "GODAMNIT THAT'S ENOUGH!" He snarls, flicking out his switch blade.

He hacks viciously into the vegetation, sinking the blade through it and into his own flesh in his frenzy. Once free he raises his gun and I think he's going to shoot me, but then I'm dropping fast and I realize he shot me free instead. I tuck my head and shoulders just before I hit the ground and before I can get my bearings I'm being tugged to my feet, the pain of the fall making my vision tilt wildly as J breaks into a sprint and drags me with him.

We're stumbling, ducking and vaulting through Ivy's gauntlet, cutting our way through her army with inadequate knives. I'm so focused on keeping my legs under me that I'm not even sure we're headed in the right direction until I see a break in trees, and it distracts me long enough to take a branch to the stomach. I hear J laugh from somewhere just ahead of me, and it gets me up and running again.

Then we're free.

Cool air bathes me, and everything bright with moonlight as the sky opens up above us. I feel like I'm seeing everything through the lens of a microscope, and I move almost robotically for the car keys. I don't even flinching when he snatches them away to unlock the passenger side because I can taste the blood and roses that drift from the forest behind us. My hands shake as I open the driver's side, my knees threatening to fold as I get in, and if it weren't for the sound of him grumbling next to me, I wouldn't be sure that this moment is even real.

He is my reality.

He was just an idea when I met him, a fascination for sure but still no more embodied than a case study. But then he bared me. He stripped me of muscle and tendon, cutting and stitching it to suit his purpose before donning it like a tailcoat, and suddenly I was the spectre. I was the naked bones, the theory, no more than a figment of his imagination until he decided to flesh me out again. He laid down the circuitry, pumping it full of battery acid and oxytocin, flooding synapses to liven new fibers to make me real like him.

Nothing before him has any meaning anymore and the memories blend, fading into each other until they're blurred and superimposed with his face, his voice, his needs and his desires, because he's the only thing that matters. He is my reason to get out of bed, my reason to keep fighting, my smile and the very beat of my heart. In this tin can of a car I can feel His body like a magnet, every part of me connected to every part of him pulling me tight and tearing me open.
I want to cry and dance and scream because this is it.

This is my birthday, and I finally feel like myself.

-THE END-

MUAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH