Hey! Hope you enjoy this oneshot. R&R!
Disclaimer:
I do not own anything to do with Suicide Squad, The Joker, or Harley Quinn. I just play about with them in my head and this is the result!
YOU AND ME
She had to get out. She needed to get out. The walls were closing in around her, and she couldn't do a thing to stop them. In the dark of the night, she could barely see anything, let alone make out enough to calm herself down.
She sat up, bolt upright. She couldn't see a thing. Trying to remain calm, and failing miserably, she started panicking, and taking short, breathy inhales, gasped frantically for air. She felt him stir beside her, but it meant nothing to her at that moment, the only thing she was focusing on was trying to get out.
"Harls?" The Joker propped himself up beside her, still half asleep. He drowsily reached for her, but she jumped, almost as if she was scared of his touch.
"What's wrong, Toots?" He mumbled lowly, the sleep in his voice evident.
She was shaking now, the whole bed moving with her. Still struggling to breathe properly, she stumbled out of the pitch black room, feeling her way as she went.
As soon as she was outside the room, and on one of the many corridors in his huge mansion, the light switch was flipped so quickly, it was as though her life depended on it.
Practically collapsing in relief at finally being able to see her hand in front of her face, she sank to the top stair of the grand staircase before her. Curling in on herself, she broke down, and sobbed like a child, not noticing that The Joker had followed, and was now leaning against the doorframe, watching with concerned interest.
As her gasps and sobs slowly subsided, she sat quietly, rocking backwards and forwards, shivering in the cool air.
"You okay, darlin'?" He questioned.
"Fine," she muttered back, glancing at her long, sharp nails.
Once she had calmed down completely, The Joker stood up, and casually sauntered over to her, as if nothing was wrong, before sinking down next to her, and pulling him to her. Or, attempting to. Again, she pulled away from his touch, and rose to her feet, stepping back and watching him watch her.
"Can we just get this over and done with, please?" She said, tapping her foot impatiently, trying to act like her usual, confident self, but he knew her better than anyone, and knew it was a mask of bravado.
"Get what over and done with?" He replied, a look of confusion passing over his face.
"You. I know you're going to do it, so just do it!" She yelled, exasperated at him.
"Harls," He began, "I really don't know what you're talking about, darlin'. Why don't we-"
"Yes, you do!" She screamed, the shaking returning.
"Mock me. Laugh at me. Embarrass me. Really, go ahead, it's what you're best at, isn't it?" She walked back over to him, sitting beside him, looking down at her feet.
"Why would I laugh at you?" He questioned, his voice so low it was almost menacing. She looked up at his face, and decided immediately that it most definitely was menacing.
"I'm Harley Quinn, Queen of Crime," she started, her eyes focusing on anything but his. "I bash people's skulls in, and torture them, and- and- murder them in cold blood!"
By this point she was screaming, her whole body shaking, whether it was with anger, fear, or simply because it was cold, he couldn't tell.
"I- I'm not supposed to be afraid of anything. That'd just mean I wasn't good enough for you, wouldn't it?" She said, finally daring to meet his eyes, his vibrant, green eyes, cold and unchanging, searching her face for any indication of what was wrong. "I have to be good enough for you, Puddin!"
"You could never be not good enough for me, darlin', not ever," he muttered, turning away from her. "You're too damn good for me already. Half the people in Gothem bet that you would've walked out ages ago. So did I. To be honest, I'm not really sure why you're still here. I wouldn't stay with me." He turned to her once more, his eyes meeting hers, pouring into her soul. "What are you afraid of Harls?" He questioned softly. "Cause I swear to God, I will destroy it."
"I'm not supposed to be scared of anything." She exhaled slowly, her eyes dancing around the room.
"I kill people, I show no mercy, neither of us do, and yet, I'm, I'm scared of the dark! I should be tortured at night by images of all the people we've murdered, and I'm not! I love it Puddin, I really do, I feed off it, there's something thrilling about it to me. Is that bad? That I have no regret or remorse for the people we've murdered, but I can have a nightmare and then freak out because it's dark, and I can see weird shadows dancing across the walls?" She spat.
"So go ahead, O Mighty King of Crime!" She exclaimed, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Make fun of your Queen for being a weak little bitch!" She yelled, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her.
"I will not, and will never make fun of ya darlin', why would I?" He spoke so lowly that it was like he was talking to himself under his breath, reassuring and reminding himself. "You're my Queen, and you know I'd do anything for ya, for God's sake Harls, I'd take a hundred bullets for ya! No one gets to hurt you, or touch you, or yell at you, not unless they have a very, very strong will to be shot there and then, on the spot."
They sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the air still thick. "Harls, if you can do what you do with me everyday, and not let it bother you, how, or why are you afraid of the dark?"
His voice wasn't jeering, like she had expected it to be, but curious, and concerned.
She rested her head in her hands, and sat silently before speaking. "I don't really know Puddin', I've just been scared of it since I was little," she responded quietly.
"Na, that's not the only reason. Tell me the rest." He spoke in low tones, but there was a growl behind them, as though he knew what she was going to say next would displease him greatly.
"When I was at Belle Reve," she began softy, shuddering at the memory, "Griggs annoyed me. I don't think he liked me much! But he em, he locked me in this pitch black cellar, while I was tied up, and he would chain me in the middle of it, and let the rats crawl all over me, and he would leave me there for ages. I think the longest time was three days, but it didn't matter to him because every morning someone would come down and inject me with that weird superfood thingy, so I wouldn't die while I was down there. No one really cared what happened to us, as long as we were all alive at the end of it."
While listening to her speak, The Joker had began to get angrier and angrier, listening to the way that bastard Griggs has treated his Harley, his darlin', his Queen, and boy, was he gonna make him pay. Not tonight of course, tonight was about making sure that Harley was alright. He could deal with the idiot stupid enough to harm her in the morning.
Seeing the anger become more and more apparent on his face, Harley took a few steps back, and this seemed to bring The Joker out of his stupor. "Come on, toots," he said, standing up, "Let's get back to bed."
As they walked back into the huge bedroom, Harley didn't fail to notice The Joker poking at something in the corner, until a soft, yellowish light splayed out into that corner of the room. He pulled her close to him, but feeling her tense up, released her, and sat on the bed, patting the space next to him.
"Thank you," she murmured as she sat down, relaxing back into the soft velvety pillows that the bed was covered in.
The Joker sat watching her, watching her get comfortable and pull the soft comforter up over her legs. He couldn't stop thinking about why she hadn't let him touch her since she had woken up.
"Harls?"
She looked up to him, through her hooded eyelids, which were beginning to get harder and heavier to keep open.
Knowing he had her attention, he continued. "Do I scare you? Do I frighten you?" He said, his signature grin appearing on his face. "You scared the big, bad, Joker's gonna kill ya one of these days? Look me in the eyes and tell me that you're not scared of me."
She moved across the bed, moving so that she was right beside him. "You don't scare me, Joker. You never have." She watched him very carefully, trying to work out if he was angry at her. "But I suppose, I am frightened of you sometimes," she admitted softly.
Hearing her say that only confirmed his fears. Of course she would leave him. He was The Joker, for crying out loud! He was the epitome of unlovable. He glanced at her, as she started talking again.
"Puddin', when you kill people, you do it to protect yourself, or to protect the job, hell, sometimes you just do it for the fun of it! And, and, I get a rush of that, I love it, seeing the grin on your face as you shoot down whatever's in your path, but you do it with an insurmountable rage hidden behind that grin, hidden, but I know you better than anyone, Puddin', and you can't hide it from me," she said, mimicking his words from earlier, the truth blatant on her face and in her voice.
"And that rage, Puddin', knowing that you could turn that rage on me, and that your voices might convince you to just kill me, if I mess up once, if I do something to annoy you, and the voices convince you that you don't need me, you'll just give in to them, and kill me. And that frightens me. That I have to be perfect all the time, your perfect Queen of Crime." She said softly, staring up at him, all her walls gone. "I can't mess up. I only get one chance at this, or I'll end up dead."
He looked away, sighing.
"You know that half the time, I'm killing people to protect you, Darlin', right?" He muttered, aiming the general direction of his voice at her. "Many people I kill have either insulted you or threatened to kill you, to get at me. Yes, I kill people on the job, but that's to protect myself, so I can get back to ya'. That's all I ever do now. Protect ya." He watched her face in the huge mirror on the opposite wall. "You couldn't mess up. You're perfect, my perfect Harley Girl.
He turned to her, and pulled her into his lap, and this time, she didn't pull away. He looked at her, properly this time, and whispered, "You make the voices leave, Harley. The voices are only here when you're not. And even if they were, and they will be sometimes, they could never convince me to hurt you. Not ever. I- I-"
Never before had The Joker been reduced to a stuttering mess. But he wanted to do this, needed to do this, to reassure her.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth. "You're my Queen of Crime. You're perfect and I could never, ever hurt you. I'd shoot myself before shooting you. Darlin', I, I love you.
Watching her face for a reaction, and not seeing any, as she looked down, he huffed, thinking to himself what an idiot he was. He had just admitted his love to this wench and now he's scared her and she's gonna leave.
As though she could hear his thoughts, she looked up. "I'm not gonna leave. J, you, do you really mean that? Cause I mean, if you did-"
"Shut up," he said, effectively cutting her off. "Of course I meant it. When have I ever joked about something serious?"
Seeing her wince at his harsh tone, he swallowed. "I'm sorry, Harls. But of course I mean it. Every word.
She searched his face, looking for any sign of him lying. She mightn't have used it for a while, but she did still have a degree in Psychology.
"I love you too."
Those four words shocked The Joker to his very core. Never, never did he think that he would ever find another human being who would say that to him willingly. Ever. But hearing her say them, he pulled her close to him and kissed her senseless.
"Oh Puddin," she exclaimed. "Could ya say it again? Just for me?" She begged, her baby blue eyes shining up at him, and in that moment, he knew instantly, there wasn't anything in this world that he wouldn't do for her, though God knows he would never admit it, but in that moment, he could tell that she knew. She always knew exactly what was on his mind, and this time was no different.
"I love you, Darlin," he repeated, grinning at her.
She rested her head against his chest. "I love you too. So much. Always have," she whispered.
"Guess what?" He said, raising her chin up to look at him.
"What?" She said, seductively, batting her thick lashes at him, smiling.
He ran his hand over her face, softly, as though he was worshipping it. "Me too," he replied, unable to keep his signature grin from coming through on his face.
She squealed in delight, and leaning forward, kissed him again, their tongues battling for dominance. He wrapped his arms around her, letting them travel up and down her back, and she flung her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he flipped their positions and slowly lowered her down onto the bed.
"You and me, honey. You and me," He said.
"Always, Puddin'. Always."
A/N:
If anyone wants me to, I can write a second chapter about what The Joker is going to do/will be doing to Griggs, and Harley will probably join in on the action. If you liked it, leave a review please!