A/N: Hey guys! First, I want to apologize for the increasingly long arrival of this new chapter. Life has really kicked my ass in the past few months, leaving almost no time for extracurricular activity. Second, I'm completely blown away by the amount of attention and love this story has gotten in my absence! Thank you so much for your reviews, follows, and favorites.

Chapter 2: The Gift of a Curse

A young girl sat in the depths of her small room, writing in her journal of the day as she usually did. The problems of a sixteen-year-old in Gotham were those one couldn't imagine, although she had always handled them accordingly.

"'Dad stayed out working all night again, didn't even give mom a call to let her know,'" she wrote, "'Or let me know. Something's been telling me she doesn't care all that much anymore, because she does the same. But I sure as hell do. He barely tells me anything anymore these days.'" All the girl had known was that her father was a valued stock broker, and her mother a lawyer; both consisted of late nights, nonexistent mornings, and family time in the living room when she got home from school until they both had to leave to their demanding jobs.

The girl's face twisted into a saddened frown, but she continued her nightly ritual. Her mother had been downstairs, having her usual drink alone in front of a blaring television. She had always been a bit distant with a tough love take on raising her only child, but she always brought just as much money home as her father, along with equal love and appreciation.

"Abaraine?" she called from below in a strained voice, causing the girl to drop her pen almost immediately. Setting down her journal, she removed herself from her bed and made her way down the stairs. As she approached the bottom, her father's voice along with another echoed through the rooms.

"Don't tell her to come down here, honey, are you crazy?" a gruff voice emitted, clearly her father's. She stopped on the stairwell to eavesdrop, not wanting to antagonize his words.

"We gotta get outta here, tonight, the job went South," he panicked, footsteps loudly pacing, pinching the bridge of his nose, "It all went South."

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" her mother soothed, attempting to calm the man, but to no avail.

"We was workin' with some new fellow, wanted to do things his way," his thick accent revealed, "He got us mixed up with the PD, and someone you don't wanna mess with. We gotta take what's left, and get the hell outta here with Abaraine."

The girl's mother was clearly intoxicated, as her response was anything but intellectual.

"What, did you get mixed up with that bat character or somethin'? Oh, Bill, you been havin' those nightmares again, Abby's been a daughter a couple people like us could ask for! You gotta remember we're the head of this operation, and no one gets in our way, no way, not even a silly man in a bat costume," she spat the last words as her mother's tone dripped with venomous dislike. The girl had heard of the vigilante only in the papers and the news, but the man was a smokescreen; one minute he's tying up criminals, and the next, he's nonexistent.

"Elena, damnit," he yelled, "Get your shit together. We don't have much—"

The shrieking sound of shattering glass caused the man to stop right in his tracks, and the girl's heart to jump out of her chest. Smoke quickly filled the home with screams from both parents, frantically trying to grab what they could and escape. She ran down the stairs into the fog and searched desperately for her parents, attempting to call for them.

"Mom, dad!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, coughing as she ascended deeper into the smoke. "Mom?! Da—"

Gun shots shattered her eardrums as they entered through all sections of the entrance of the house. She quickly ducked down with instinct, crawling on the floor to evade the bullets. The harmony of rips and tears of wood and glass was seemingly never ending. With bullets, came knives, and a plethora of shards of glass and chipped wood flew with steel blades around the room in complete chaos. The clouds turned a burgundy red against a backdrop of faint moonlight followed by the ceasing of all weaponry. The storm had calmed.

Young Abaraine shuddered slowly upward from her balled position on the floor, tears of fear streaming down her ashen cheeks. She put one arm and leg forward and continued to crawl to avoid another unexpected chaotic breakout. A pleading voice called for her parents once more.

"M-Mom," she cracked, "D-D-Dad?"

Her lips quivered when no reply came, and she soon tripped over something on the floor. Something softer than a table top or a vase. Regaining herself, she looked upon her hands, blood coating every crease as if staining her skin. Her eyes widened with disbelief, not a sound escaping her mouth, realizing what she was witnessing. The smoke had begun to clear a bit more to show how terrible this attack really had been. Nothing was intact, not one thing. And her mother and father lay face down in their own pools of blood not a foot away, covered in crimson.

She only sat, shocked and utterly confused, horrified, and extremely angry. Tears were more like waterfalls reaching down to the floor, the clear liquid mixing with thick. Who would have done this, and why? Abaraine noticed something out of the ordinary engorged in her father's back; a knife, shaped like the afore spoken vigilante's symbol itself. Her whole world turned red, while her heart turned black, with the sickening thirst of the ultimate redemption filling every vein that could possibly be pumping.

"Good morning, sunshine," a familiar deranged voice emerged, "Looks like you were havin' quite the dream there."

Rain blinked her eyes to focus on her surroundings, which had made her remember what happened before she was knocked out. Her black jumpsuit had been removed, leaving her only in her spandex shorts and sports bra. The bass vibrating from beneath the floor implemented they had been at the top of some type of club, but the room they were in looked like a fancy hotel, with the Joker's personal touches of purples, greens, and decorative yet deadly weapons. Her vision was hazy still, and her strength was all but there. Did he drug me? she thought. Must've, because she couldn't seem to move her legs, until the pain from her foot shot through her body.

"You might not wanna move that yet, still stitched," he smiled.

"What did you do to me?" she halfway slurred. Slowly but surely whatever it was had been wearing off.

"I think you'd wanna ask what you did to yourself, sweetheart," he poked at her wrapped foot, causing her to seethe with pain. "Probably was a little bit of my fault too, though, my sincerest apologies."

Her eyes squeezed shut, and opened again, unfolding icy blues only inches away.

"Now that sleeping beauty is finally awake," he started, pushing his face closer to hers, "Let's have that talk, shall we?"

Joker removed himself from his position and began to pace around her immobile figure, leaving her to only follow his form with her emerald greens.

"So it seems like we have a mutual enemy, Miss Rain. An enemy that is quite the stir," he stopped in his footsteps to make eye contact with her, "Don't you agree?"

She squinted at him with disdain as he removed his purple coat, bringing a chiseled body adorned with pale skin and unearthly tattoos to shine under the lights. She still couldn't move as her foot injury had caused her to be completely useless; it was then she realized there was nothing she could do but take part, begrudgingly.

"Yeah, I do," she frustratingly replied.

He continued his pacing around her, as well as his words, "He's been getting in the way of, well, just about everything for quite some time now. I have my reasons for my feelings for Bats, but Miss Rain, what could he have possibly done to a girl like you to uphold such a hardened passion for bat blood? Oh, and trying to come up on my winnings."

It was simple, she thought.

"He killed my parents," her voice tremored with a deep vibrato, "And there is no way that man is getting to keep his life."

Joker stopped in his tracks, turning to look at her, studying each way the words came out as she spoke.

"As for the score, I needed something to lure the bastard in, but you were annoyingly in the way," she finished, eye contact never being broken. There was a fire burning between green and blue, accompanied by feelings that couldn't be named. "You could've shared, you know, villain to villain."

That statement made his head throw back into a loud cackle, leaving her eyes narrowing in frustration. He was mocking her again.

"Listen, doll," he walked towards her again, kneeling down to her level, "You either work for me, or ya die. It looks like that's the only way you're ever gonna get Batsy out of his cave, and it's also your only choice..." He trailed off into his words as his sarcastic smirk began to fade, really taking in Rain's features. She could feel his breath on her face, causing her to shutter slightly, but not enough for the green haired man to notice. "It'd be nice to have a pretty face around here, too."

He wrapped his fingers around her face, her cheeks squished between them in a hard grip. Her eyes widened with confusion, or maybe delight. All she knew was his touch was fire against her skin.

"I work alone," she squeezed through her pursed lips. His grip only grew stronger, feelings of numbness entering her mouth from the elongated hold.

"Not anymore, you don't," he smiled, bringing her lips towards his. They merely skimmed soft red, that feeling of fire bursting throughout her body again, with the heat of their breaths intertwining in hot tension. No, this wasn't right, she had to get out of there.

Rain gathered all her strength in her stupor and pushed the Joker off of her, freeing herself from his grasp. Her foot's shooting pain quickly coming back, she ignored it through the intense amount of adrenaline that was filling her body, and grabbed a knife from the nearby wall. Straddling him on his place on the floor, a knife was held to his throat, with a smile on his face.

"Well, I thought you liked me, but I didn't think you wanted to move this fast," he laughed. His jokes were witty, and Rain unwillingly smiled at his banter. "I always like it when a pretty girl smiles; and you, sweetheart, have quite the pretty smile. One would say, irresistible."

"Stop the games, Joker," Rain pushed the blade closer to his neck, a small bead of crimson trailing down his neck to the carpeted floor. "What do you want from me?"

There seemed to be a hesitance before his answer came, accompanied by the trademark grin. She felt at ease, like she was safe with him, and for that, her hesitance to slice his throat continued.

"Isn't it obvious?" he whispered. Rain quirked her brow.

"Not exactly," she replied quickly. Her patience was running thin, and her need to bolt out of the room with a crate of money printers was growing rapidly.

"You and I are very alike, if you haven't noticed," Joker smiled under his breath. This mere sentence made Rain's heart drop, twisting with anger and curiosity. Yes, she had her rage, her mistakes, her issues, but being alike? That was out of the question. Pushing the blade closer to his skin, small trails of red lined the silver edge.

"And in what ways? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm not a deranged serial killer crime boss," she spat, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Under the pressure of her knife, Joker still managed to let his signature cackle escape his lips, earning more attention from the silver blade.

"I can help you kill the Batman," his eyes locked with hers as each word made itself real. She wanted nothing more, and nothing less. Although, just one of those money printers could feed her for the rest of her life, too, providing an easy, yet unsatisfying taste of life. Joker's eyes held a certain sincerity about them that shown through the violence and greed, ultimately deciding their fate.

The room went silent, Joker's body guard standing calmly at the entrance, seemingly not phased by the fact that his boss had a knife to his throat. The situation felt wrong, but her heart followed his last words. She loosened her grip, sliding the blade skillfully at her side in her spandex. A mouth full of gold showed themselves in an everlasting grin at the action and his mind raced with the impossible amount of possibilities that came with his newly found asset.

"You better not fuck me over," she climbed to her feet through the pain, looming over the green haired man. She lend out her hand to the crime prince and lifted him to his feet with little to no effort. "How do I know I can trust you? You don't exactly have the look of a loyal companion…"

Both standing, her putting her weight on the opposite leg, faces burning with passions from opposite spectrums, he took her hand in his with an unexpectedly soft touch. Although the man had an aura of complete turmoil, his eyes held a genuine longing for trust, and what seemed to be an offset of an alliance.

"You ain't got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart," he began in a more soothing tone, as soothing as his voice could sound. "I think this is definitely the start of a beautiful friendship."

The last statement puzzled her, but she brushed it off as quickly as it came. He leaned down towards her hand in his without breaking even a moment of eye contact and landed a soft kiss atop her knuckle, sending lightning-like chills down her spine. Rain did everything in her power to keep her composure, but something about this man had her confused, but immensely intrigued. Realizing his lips hadn't left their place, she cleared her throat loudly.

"Well, uh… Yeah… We should get started then. Can I also, uh, have my suit back?" she asked in her best tone, still completely disillusioned by everything she'd been feeling.

He laughed his laugh again, walking over to an armoire to grab a silk purple button down shirt that clearly wasn't her confiscated gear. "I'm gonna have to put you on bed rest, sweet Rain. You're no use to anyone with that foot."

That laugh, it made her toes tingle, when it should've made her shake with fear. Those eyes, what had made her want to follow them?

"And what makes you think I can't do anything? Took you down pretty easily," she scoffed, scanning the room around her seeing as she probably had to make the best of things. He giggled slightly at the statement, walking back over to her, silk shirt in hand.

"Don't get mad," he smiled sadistically.

"Why—"

He merely pushed her chest with a small amount of force, leaving her toppling down hard onto the floor to release a scream of pain.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she spat, holding her leg with both hands.

"Just proving a point," he leaned down, getting increasingly close to her again.

"Okay, okay…" her breathing labored, "Point proven. But I swear, if you ever do that again, I'll slice your throat in your sleep."

"I hope you will, sweetheart, it'd be the honor of the year," he joked.

She grabbed the silk from his hands aggressively, sneering an angry eye at the green haired man, but she couldn't help but smile at his sick humor. As she slipped it on, it was unbelievably comfortable. Something told her she couldn't make it home anytime soon, but at least she was with her ticket to revenge, which held some comfort in her heart.

Maybe they were more alike than meets the eye. She was never the sweetest girl with the simplest humor, but a wall was still held high.

"You make yourself comfortable, partner," he smiled, "I've got some work to do."

With that, he slipped on his previous attire and exited the room, his body guard quickly following him and locking the door. Rain was alone now, realizing the deal she just made with one of the most purely evil criminals Gotham has ever witnessed. In the process, she smiled at the comfort she felt between what seemed like oceans of silk, adorned with the smell of a sweet cologne.

It had been years since she had been in another human's company that wasn't little Ben's constant visits or a fight for survival. A life alone, with only the thoughts of that night swimming through every fiber. It took over her, although she vowed it wouldn't. Consumed by her years of self-training and practice, Rain just wanted her redemption, a chance to see the face of the man who ruined her chance at a normal life, and to hold the satisfaction of taking him down herself. Now, she lay in the bed of her free ride to bringing down Batman, but the sweet, natural fixation of Joker's smell and company held her attention at the moment.

"Don't get used to this Rain," she scolded herself. Within minutes, her body fell asleep once more, taking hold of it's much needed, long overdue rest.

Joker's POV

Coming back to his place above the club, hands bloodied with the idiots who tried ruining his deal with the newest gang in Gotham, he stared at the unconscious girl laying among his purple silk sheets, her skin tone melting with her hair into the hues. It was like artwork, a painting, the beauty she held was something no one could match. Her strength, her wit, all accompanied by an irresistible charm that almost matched his. But as she slept, all of it stripped away, revealing the vulnerability she held as she seemed to be having another bad dream. He knew what those were like, but he had his reasons. What were hers, he wondered. What was happening inside that mind, what was she feeling inside that heart, and the ultimate question:

"Who are you, Miss Rain…" he questioned under his breath, twisting a blade between his fingers.

On his quest for Batman, he's met quite the plethora of criminals that wanted his same goal, but none like her. She seemed too innocent, with the strict and utter desire to inflict pain upon him because he had her. But what had this girl's assumedly ordinary parents have done to make Batsy break his number one rule? And why did he not know about it? So many questions filled his already deranged mind, but something about this woman calmed it. Seeing her in his bed, longing for female companionship since Harley was gone, for the better in his opinion, he didn't want control over her. He wanted to see what she was capable of; the thought that he had only gotten lucky at the minting building fluttered through his mind. The girl was amazingly strong, as well as strong willed.

"There's no breaking you, is there…" he questioned himself. This girl was no Harley Quinn, even a Harlene Quinzel for that matter. She knew who she was, at least for the moment, and didn't let anyone get close enough to distort that image.

Sighing slowly, thinking, thinking, thinking; suddenly, a surge of green glowed through her form. It came and went quickly, almost like a pulse, and didn't seem to wake up at all. The surging grew stronger as her dream seemed to get worse, but he was too interested. What was happening?

Inaudible whispers came from her lips, and the surging came to a steady glow of emerald.

"Like her eyes," he thought, staring in awe at the sight.

The whispers ended, and the glow subsided, leaving her back to her original state. He couldn't comprehend what just happened, besides the fact that this girl had much more power than even she knew about. Her breathing became constant as well, indicating her dream had probably came to an enlightening end.

This girl was his ticket to killing Bats, and there was no way he was going to let her out of his sight. He got up off his seat at his chair and walked over to her sleeping figure, laying his hand gently on her cheek. So, beautiful; so, so, so beautiful. Even more beautiful after the glowing incident. The peace that overcame him puzzled him excruciatingly, he wanted to wake her up and ask her if she knew of this power. But something had pulled on his heart strings, a familiarity about her, those emerald green eyes.

His breath seemed to catch in his throat for the first time in, well, ever. His hands began to shake uncontrollably, his eyes widening in disbelief that he didn't realize it before.

"Abbaraine…" he whispered, slightly shuddering as the name escaped his lips.

Joker remembered that night, bullets flying through that home, the bat-shaped knives he'd stolen from Batsy; he was sure everyone was dead. There was no way that little girl had survived.

"But you did."

Memories flushed through his mind of the mission, and he began stepping back from his place, startled, but still captured by her unforgiving beauty and charm. The mission was to kill the girl and anyone in her vicinity, as he was told by a former adversary she had carried unspeakable power that could cripple those in its wake, no matter what side its on; and frame Bats for it. Scars ran through her body, seeing the ones from bullets and those from shrapnel, how did he not recognize her sooner? Before he had fallen to his immense desires for her? Something pulled him to her, not just fascination, but pure infatuation. The truth of that night had been right in front of her, and for once, he felt guilt wash over him.

"You really don't know how powerful you are."

She slept soundly in the bed of silk, as the real murderer of her fate loomed just a few feet away.

For the first time in his life, the Joker said,

"I'm sorry."