I had been in the guest bedroom (that has never once been a room to any guest) for a little over two hours. Mister J rarely came in here so it seemed like the opportune place to be alone for a while; then again, he wasn't even home so I was alone anyway. I lay curled up in the faux fur lined hanging egg chair, silently crying while wrapped up in my fuzzy pink blanket with a few empty bottles of wine and a box of chocolates.
Now as a rule that Mister J and I both oddly saw sense in, we don't drink. We can serve alcohol, we can hold an alcoholic drink just for show, but we never take even a sip. There was a method to our madness, you see. Alcohol only made my voices more prominent; they only made us more unstable and unpredictable. The reason why we worked, the reason why he had gotten so far is because he was crazy, I was crazy, but we were the smart kind of crazy. We were reckless but our risks were calculated for the most part, there was always a plan. Give us any sort of narcotics and the whole world burns.
I'm not one for breaking, I can take more hits than most, but sometimes it's not the physical blows that break you. So, there I was, sobbing into a pillow, completely pissed drunk with little whispers in my ear… and then he walked in.
He was on the verge of saying something about the club and in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt when he stopped in his tracks.
Nonchalance wasn't going to fix this, but my drunken mind thought otherwise so sniffling, I wiped my eyes and sat up.
"H-H-Hiya P-P-Puddin', what's wrong?"
His eyes flicked to the few bottles of wine I had with me and his eyes narrowed, "Those better be sparkling water, Y/N, or we're going to have a problem," he growled.
I crumpled then, my sobs coming out heavy and fast and I rose gripping one of the bottles by its neck.
"We already, have a problem, Mister J," my speech was mumbled and slurred.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I scoffed, throwing the bottle at him and he sidestepped, watching it hit the wall and shatter before his cool blue-grey eyes focused on me.
"I don't like you drunk," his tone was clipped, angry.
"You don't give a damn about me, don't even gimme that, Mister J,"
He has never cared, you're just his toy. There are thousands more just like you. Batman knows it, Mister J knows it, but poor little Y/N can't face the music. The voices whispered and I smacked the side of my head with a violence, yelling out for them to stop. Mister J looked at me in a way my brain couldn't process and he shut the bedroom door.
"I want you to tell me what this is all about, doll."
He knows, he is just playing with me now. Always playing, always playing, always fucking playing. I stumbled a little, still holding my head because the voices wouldn't shut up and Mister J began again.
"Who made you cry?"
Who? Who? "Yousilly, but you don't care."
He rolled his neck, cracking it, a tick that always meant he was angry, irritated, or feeling something.
"Careful, doll. Now I don't recall saying anything genuinely rotten to you tod-"
"That's right! That's right, did you hear that?" I giggled, a sad and twisted little giggle when I realised he wouldn't have heard what the voice in my head had said. "It said, you wouldn't give a shit if I fell off this here balcony." I backed up, pulling the door open and he advanced slowly.
"Now why would it say such a thing, why would you think such a thing?"
He said it in a curious way… in a way that made me even more sad because why would I question him? Why would I think such bad things about my puddin'? Always in your head Y/N he is always in your head, mixing you up, but now you see. But I don't want to see!
"You can make a thousand more of me," I felt empty now, tapping my forehead gently, and my back hit the guard rail.
"I don't want to make another one, I want you, do you understand? Aren't you happy? Don't you love me? Why are you doing this?" He asked in a voice softer than silk, he was trying to calm me I think. Or trick you.The voices whispered.
"I fell for your stories… for your lies… The Bat made me see, don't you understand? The Bat, told me how stupid I was for thinking you could ever," I lifted myself so I was sitting on the guard rail.
"Y/N," he growled.
"Ever. Care about me."
I let go of the railing so all I would have to do is tilt my body backward and that would be it. Do it, Harley. Jump. Jump.Hitting my head I screamed again for the voices to stop, my voice hitching as I fell back. Oh!
"Puddin!"
"NO!"
But he had me, his hands curled around my ankle and I stared down at the little cars and realised I could have just been a mangled heap all the way down there. Leaning up I grabbed his arm and he released my leg, yanking me up and over the rail and we fell back. He clutched me to his chest and I sobbed, I held onto him for dear life and I sobbed into his chest while he stroked my hair. Whether from exertion or… something else his heart was beating hard and fast.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whimpered.
He didn't say anything for a moment, he just lifted me into his arms and carried me back inside, yelling for Frost who entered promptly.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Grab the Doc, she has been drinking,"
And with that he was gone and I was still crying but I felt weak, tired, my head lolling and in a moment of tenderness his lips brushed the heart on my cheekbone.
"We'll fix you up Y/N… we'll make it right."

***Y/N P.O.V

I woke up feeling better, there was an I.V in my arm that was pumping me with fluids to eradicate the alcohol in my system. Mister J was sitting beside me, absently playing with his hunting knife.
"I don't like it when you're presumptuous," he said.
Licking my lips I sat up, cupping the side of his neck with my hand and he looked at me then. There was an angry, frustrated, and confused look in his eyes and I brushed my nose against his.
"I know… I'm sorry… he got into my head. He… he found my weakness,"
Mister J's confusion grew, and I squeezed his hand, "You. He made me doubt-"
"Don't you ever do anything like that again or I'll kill you myself,"
He left me then, moving towards the door but he paused for a second, turning his head but he didn't look at me.
"The Bat will hurt for this, for you."
And with that he was gone, it was the only thing I needed. It was his way of saying I do care about you, whatever he said was wrong.It was his way of telling me that I mattered to him in the only way he knew how and that was more than I could ever ask for.