#jokersengima

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 33

Heya!

Next bits ready - i apologise now - I have no idea what i was doing when I wrote this and I feel like I went off on a bit of a tangent! haha It got a bit dark towards the end!

Maybe i should rename this fic because i really think it should just be called Reader - there is so little Joker in it!

I am really sorry - he will be back next chapter i promise and I will make sure future writing series will have much more of him in it - this is my first one so I got a bit carried away with just my general writing!

ALSO - sorry its soooooo long again - got carried away!

Anyway - hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language

Masterlist

We drove in silence except for the occasional direction from Frost which was hissed out through his clenched teeth, which were bared against the pain in his neck as he kept the wound on his scalp pressed against the sodden bandage on the head rest behind him. I tried to avoid any pot holes and raised pieces of roads to prevent jolting Frost too much, but even so I could still hear the sharp gasps every now and then that he tried to stifle and I cringed in apology.

Several times throughout the journey I had to double check my mirrors, convinced I had caught flashes of purple behind me or in the street across from at crossroads.

Maybe it was paranoia. Whenever I had glanced back there was no colour to be seen - just the usual grey tones of Gotham. But even if there had been a car was that really unusual? People were allowed to have coloured cars. I wasn’t even completely sure it had been purple – maybe it had just been an odd shade of blue?

When we finally reached the old derelict neighbourhood where Marv resided I couldn’t help sinking down into my car seat slightly - now feeling even more vulnerable than usual as I was in control of the car and my protector was badly wounded and losing a lot of blood.

I pulled up outside the same run-down house as we had earlier that same day and I hesitated as I went to open my door - checking both ways down the street for signs of anyone I would rather avoid. There were 3 men loitering around another house down the street but they were quite far away that I didn’t feel too worried about them, however I still tried to make as little noise as possible as I slipped out of the vehicle – not wanting to draw too much attention to myself and the SUV which was probably the most expensive car around here. I made my way round to Frost’s side and offered him a hand as he opened the door. He completely ignored my aid and I scowled at his stubbornness as he moved past me and towards the chipping door. I followed behind him as usual and stuck close to him, glancing nervously around the area, as he knocked and waited for a response. After a few moments I could just make out the creaking of floorboards as someone made their way down the corridor. Then they stopped, yet the door still didn’t open.

“Marv.” Frost called out in an almost bored tone - like he had the last time we’d been here – maybe this was some sort of security measure?

There was a moment of hesitation after Frost spoke and then the door swung inwards to reveal Marv once more. “Frost!” He exclaimed in surprise, “Back again? Did Jake not-“ Then he took in Frost’s appearance, noticing the makeshift bandage wrapped around his neck and the blood splatters on his shirt. “Jesus.” He breathed, “What happened?!”

“Do you mind if I come in?” Inquired Frost bluntly, ignoring the questions.

“Damn Man, sure.” He muttered glancing into the back of the house and stepping to the side, ushering Frost through. Frost stepped forward so that Marv suddenly caught side of me, no longer hidden behind Frost’s bulky frame.

“Oh – uh – you too?” he directed at me, gesturing into the house with his thumb.

“Uh…” I hesitated on the spot, looking at Frost as he stopped in the doorway and turned to me, trying to figure out what was best to do, “Uh – No. I’ll just – I think I’ll go.” I stammered, suddenly feeling very out of place among the two large henchman in this rather dodgy area.

“You sure?” Asked Frost

“Uh… Yeah.” I said - sounding anything but sure. I was very aware of my situation at the moment. Here I was a tiny little girl stood before these two huge intimidating men, one of whom was offering his house to me. Sure I had come to see Frost as almost a friend, but now I was brought sharply to the realisation that he wasn’t really – I barely knew the man – I had just been following him around like a lost puppy.

Marv was his friend. They were both terrifying criminals to anyone else - and they should be to me. I didn’t belong here and I wasn’t going to force my company on them anymore than I already had. Marv could take care of Frost much better than I could – and Frost was less likely to refuse his aid It was time I returned to normal. No longer pretending to be something or someone I wasn’t.

“Here.” I said holding out the keys to the SUV to Frost. He didn’t move, just looked at my hand, I frown of confusion on his face.

“No.” He said, shaking his head – soon regretting it and wincing at the pain. “You keep it.” He told me eventually when his face had relaxed slightly.

“I don’t particularly want a stolen car traced back to me thanks.” I reasoned, not withdrawing my outstretched hand, instead shaking the keys at him in insistence.

“And you don’t want to be wandering alone in this neighbourhood.” Argued Frost. I wavered a bit then, slightly lowering my arm as I looked down the street either side of me. It was true. The sun was already fading in the sky as we spoke and the place alone was enough to unsettle me in broad daylight. “Take it at least to get out of here. Then do what you want with it – dump it somewhere and forget about it.” Frost advised and I thought this through before nodding in agreement and pulling my hand back.

I dithered for a moment – unsure if I should just leave or if Frost was going to say anything else. I wanted him to say something. I wanted him to insist I stayed with him – though I wasn’t sure why he’d want me to. I had gotten used to having him around, having someone to look out for me, a friend. It was actually hard to think about the fact that we were going our separate ways - I had no plans to ever see him again. There was no need anymore.

I forced a smile at him, “Well, good bye Frost.” I mumbled, suddenly feeling very awkward and shy. This was hard. He didn’t say anything so I turned and began to walk back to the car.

“Y/N!” He called after me. I looked over my shoulder at him in surprise; he had stood fully in the doorway now, facing me directly. Marv had left us to it and gone back inside – whether of his own volition or by Frost’s command, I wasn’t sure. “Where do you plan to go?” he asked

I was surprised at the question – not what I expected to hear. “Uh – I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

“Are you staying in Gotham?” he asked, his face a calm mask but I thought I caught of glimmer of something in his stony expression.

I paused as I thought about this.

“Yeah.” I admitted. “I think I’ll stay.”

We had parted soon after I had confirmed I would remain in Gotham. I did as Frost had suggested, taking the car back towards the centre of the city and parking up in a small alley along the boundaries where the buildings were mainly warehouses or old seedy businesses. Still not the best area, but somewhere that a stolen car would be expected to be found and only a short walk – or an even shorter run – to get to a more populated area. Either way I still gripped my newly acquired knife in my hand as I moved through the darkening streets back to the still-bustling centre.

As the streetlights began to flicker on overhead I caught a bus to take me to the nearest affordable hotel where I soon collapsed onto a lumpy single-bed mattress - the exhaustion of the day finally hitting me full on.

It had been a long day. A really long day. I thought as I lay led out on the thin duvet, realising I hadn’t stopped all since I had left with Frost late this morning.

I closed my eyes, drinking in the fact that I was finally alone, allowing the tension from my face to release so that I was fully relaxed for the first time in a very long time.

I was back home. Gotham.

If only I had a home though. I thought glumly, not just this dingy little room. I frowned as I looked around at the drab décor, wrinkling my nose at the musty smell that seemed to hang in the air. It would have to do for tonight. Tomorrow I could get my life together. It wasn’t worth worrying about tonight.

And so it was like that – fully dressed and spread out on top of the covers of the tiny hotel bed – that I fell into an exhausted sleep.

It wasn’t a restful sleep however. I never truly awoke in the night, only tossing and turning, continuously haunted by the Joker’s unsettling smile, his gaunt, hollow face and his ringing cackle. Every time I was close to consciousness I would be dragged back down by him until I once more stood before him, my gun in his hand, aiming at my chest.

Each time I would turn to run and see Jake Riggens stood across the room and I would run to him, grabbing his arms and pulling him with me as I tried to run past, screaming that we had to run. Instead he would hold firm to his spot, not speaking a word and grab my arms, twisting them behind my back, so I was trapped in front of him, as the Joker stalked towards me, now holding his knife once more that was supposedly in my pocket.

He grinned at me like the devil himself as he prowled towards me, tossing the knife between his hands, the pointed tip never leaving my direction. Behind him I noticed Penguin just stood there watching the whole scene, a devious smile on his face like this was his favourite past time. 

I was grateful when I finally woke up at 5am. Deciding this was a suitable time to call morning as I rubbed dried tears from my face and breathed hard from the night terrors.

I sat in bed for a long time, staring mindlessly at the ceiling as I ran over the events of the day before – not truly believing I hadn’t just dreamed that up as well.

How could one person be so idiotic?!

Why had I just up and left my new life? Why did one murderous lunatic warrant me travelling hundreds of miles without even a spare change of clothes? And – surprise, surprise – upon finally seeing me again he had threatened to kill me!

But then he had kissed me. And boy had he kissed me.

I was content then to just lack back on my lumpy mattress in the middle of that dank hotel room reliving those few seconds over and over - trying to remember every detail, every movement, every feeling. Hell I couldn’t feel guilty loving every second of it if no one ever knew.

But it had been too short, too fleeting.

And then he had gone.

Just like that.

Why?

Had he heard Frost coming and thought it best to just leave? It didn’t seem like something he’d do - but then he didn’t seem completely himself recently.

It had felt like something had snapped in him in the kiss though. At the start it felt like any other – wonderful, but nothing compared to a few seconds later. It was like something had suddenly flared up, like he had suddenly realised he wasn’t dreaming - that I was real and he was going to make the most of it.

But that would mean he’d have to care about me. And he didn’t. The Joker didn’t care about anything.

I shook my head. That was enough with that. Talking myself around in circles was not going to get anything productive done – it was just going to give me a headache.

It was time to starting living in the real world. I needed a house and I needed a job.

So I spent the rest of the day traversing Gotham for jobs, cycling through newspapers, websites and wanted ads for anything I could apply for. First and foremost I hoped to return to what I truly wanted to do – my singing. I missed it more than I realised and now that I was back in Gotham I felt a new inspiration to continue it - though beggars couldn’t be choosers, so in the end I would happily take anything.

I ended up applying to 4 clubs that had openings for entertainers. Most of the city was owned by the various crime lords – they seemed to particularly favour the nightlife professions – so I was careful to do my research on each application so that I didn’t find myself working once more for one of the big criminal groups either directly or indirectly.

I was surprised when all 4 of them offered me the job – had they known me from when I had worked for Penguin? I eventually chose the smallest, most inconspicuous club, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself than necessary in anyway.

I managed to find a small one bed flat, not too dear and not too far from it either. For the first time in a while I finally felt like my life was getting back on track and in some state of order. I was going to be fine.

And I was for the first few weeks.

I soon discovered that – apart from my boss – most people at my new job hated me. It was a weird feeling – I’d never had such a large number of people dislike me for what seemed no apparent reason and I often felt like I had a million holes in me from the amount of dagger-eyes the other entertainers shot at me.

My boss – Darren - soon enlightened me on their resentment. “They’re all jealous really.” He explained, “You’re a really good singer and they resent you showing them all up.” I was shocked at this but Darren wouldn’t take my modesty as he explained how surprised he had been when I took his offer as I was rather overqualified for the position in such a small, relatively shabby little club.

But it was what I needed right now. I didn’t want to be in the limelight, I didn’t want to be a huge well-known entertainer. I just wanted to make enough money to live off and do the thing I loved. So this place was perfect.

Darren didn’t complain, even if I didn’t want to famous I still had managed to increase the patronage of the club and was quite glad really because the place sure needed the money – it had definitely seen better days and could use with a new lick of paint here and there. I guess that’s what you got for being one of the only clubs not to be owned by a millionaire criminal.

Darren was even more surprised I stayed because of the way the others treated me. He never did anything about it – though I didn’t blame him for that – I could understand why, what was the point in possible losing everyone over just one employee? Even if I was a good singer.

But I stayed anyway. It didn’t make my job the best place in the world, but I wasn’t there to make friends, really, and I didn’t bother trying. At the moment I was just trying to get a handle back on my life once again.

And so we all got on as well as we could. I knew they spoke about me behind my back and often tried to make my life as hard as possible, but I dealt with it. I didn’t protest when I was the one that suddenly got stuck with all the knitty-gritty jobs or when the room fell into a silence when I walked in. I generally ignored them and in return they eventually ignored me.

That was until one night - just after all the live entertainment for the evening had finished – I was in the changing room/general staff room getting change out of my performance attire. Because the club was so small there were two ‘backstage’ rooms – the slightly larger room I was in now which had a couple of wardrobes and dividers in the back corner and a few sofas, desks and cupboards – and a small office leading off from it which belonged to Darren.

I was currently behind one of the dividers, pulling on my last trainer as I got ready to head home when I heard people moving down the corridor. I recognised the high voices and girly laughs quickly and – sure enough – in walked Netty and Rebecca. They were both performers who did and act with a couple other girls and had just finished their set which went on after mine. I watched them through the gap between the panels of the flimsy partition as they paused in front of one of the sofas, not realising I was in the room and so carrying on their conversation without hesitation.

“I mean I knew she was a slut by the way she dresses but I would never had thought little [Y/N] would do that!” Rebecca cackled. I could guess she was talking about me before she had even said my name and I brushed off the ‘slut’ insult without a care, thought I was intrigued by what I had supposedly done that was so shocking to her.

“I honestly can’t believe it.” Said Netty, tittering away with her.

“Wait till I tell Darren – he won’t want her hanging around here anymore.” Rebecca giggled maliciously. I frowned through the fissure at them - what was she going on about? I wanted to reveal myself and confront them but I knew that they might not tell me what this secret of mine was if I gave myself away too soon.

“Whatta’ya gonna tell him?” Asked Netty in awe of Rebecca and her scandalous behaviour – honestly she was like a little child following the ‘cool kid’ around. I rolled my eyes at the pure desperation in front of me.

“The whole thing.” Stated Rebecca importantly, “He’s got a right to know that he hired the Joker’s little whore!” she explained.

That was it. This comment caused something to snap in me and I strode out from my hiding place making both girls jump at my sudden appearance. Netty’s face remaining worried, but – upon recognising me – Rebecca grinned deviously at me. “And here she is now – spying like the little snake she is.” She said snidely.

“Shut up” I growled at her, my face stormy and my jaw clenched against my growing temper – all the anger I had suppressed over the last few weeks at these people that had derided and mocked me finally bubbling to the surface.

“Oh, but I don’t think I will.” She sneered. “Bitch.” She added on for good measure, happy to outright insult me now she was so certain she could get me fired. Her pure attitude infuriated me and if looks could kill she would have been lying bloodied on the floor.

“If you don’t -“ I started but she interrupted me again as Netty watched on.

“You’ll what?” She asked rhetorically, “Cos you see my dear,” she patronised, stepping towards, her heels clacking on the laminated floor, “I know you’re dirty little secret`” She purred, pointing her manicured finger at me “– you’re little exploits with that psycho clown that runs around town.” You really think Darren’ll want you around when he finds out the kinda crowd you attract?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at me like the idea was completely ridiculous.

“I have nothing to do with the Joker anymore.” I told her through gritted teeth, her words starting to eat at me. “I haven’t seen him in months.” That was a lie, it had only been about 4 weeks, but the meeting had only been for a few minutes.

“Yes dear,” She said stepping closer so she was invading my personal space in an attempt to intimidate me. “but we all know that the mad little clown doesn’t forget his toys.” Rebecca cooed, pouting and tilting her head in pity at my apparent stupidity, “He doesn’t leave them alone till they are dead does he? No matter how many people he takes out in the process.” She explained. “And we all know what happened at the Purple Umbrella don’t we?” She asked turning to Netty who faltered - too wrapped up in the dialogue of her heroine to realise she had been addressed – before she eagerly nodded in agreement. “So why,” Rebecca snapped, spinning back to me, “would Darren wanna risk that, hmm?”

Maybe she was right, I thought as I looked away from her hard, cold eyes. The Joker didn’t just leave loose threads around. People who dealt with him always had one final ending – corpse or missing corpse. It was always just a game as to how long you could last.

The Joker had yet to come looking for me once more, but surely it was just a matter of time before he turned up again – whether to continue our weird little relationship or to finally end it completely. Would he find me here? Could I risk it? If he did I might well be threatening Darren’s business and livelihood? He was a good guy - who was I to risk ruining his life just because I needed a job?

“You know what I don’t get?” Piped up Rebecca once more, breaking through my panicky thoughts, “What did you even see in that creep? I mean sure he’s fit for a freaky jester,” She admitted flicking her hand in the air, far too close to my face. I could feel the temper that had simmered down from my sobering thoughts begin to bubble once more – even stronger than before.  “but the guy’s an insane murderer who dresses like a clown – I mean how desperate were you to sleep with him?”

I was sick of hearing her talk like this about me or him. Sick of holding back my fury that prickled my skin and tensed my muscles.  She wouldn’t have the balls to talk like this if the Joker was in the room with her – she was only brave behind people’s back when she knew she wouldn’t get the consequences of her actions.

“Do you share lipstick?” She continued babbling on in her condescending tone.

“SHUT UP!” I roared at her.

“I mean is it some weird kink you have?” She continued, not listening to me.

The next thing I knew I had launched at her, shoving us both across the room and up against the opposite wall, my left arm against her chest, pinning her up whilst, my right hand held the Joker’s blade up against her neck, “Will you just shut your bloody mouth!” I yelled at her. It felt so good to finally let that out I couldn’t help chuckling to myself.

Her eyes were wild with fear and she kept glancing between my enraged face and the knife pressed to her skin. “YOU- YOU’RE CRAZY!” She screamed at me. “NETTY! HELP!” She called at the petrified girl behind me. Netty looked at Rebecca’s beseeching face before glancing at my somewhat manic face and the knife in my hand, the fear clear and evident in her eyes as she choose to remain in place.

I smirked wickedly in triumph before turning back to Rebecca. “No help now.” I told her leaning in so I was close to her cheek, “Bitch.” I mimicked in a whisper, glad to be returning the same invasion of space she had to me, and upping it somewhat. I leant back and noticed how erratic her breathing was under my knife and it pleased me, feeling the grin spread across my face. Her eyes were looking at me in horror like she was seeing a demon.

“Please! Stop!” She begged, her chin tilted up away from my weapon and her eyes scrunched in anguish.

“Nah….” I muttered, “People shouldn’t make nasty rumours…” I cooed, mocking her earlier attitude to me and applying more pressure on the blade as her throat continued to rise and fall in large waves of her gasps. I was adrift in the thrill of what I was doing - all compassion and sympathy lost beneath the freedom I was allowing myself.

“PLEASE!” She cried out, beginning to sob as water ran from her closed eyes. “PLEASE! It wasn’t me!” She whimpered. This caught my interest and I tore my eyes away from the red tear of blood forming under the steel to look into her watery eyes.

“What wasn’t you?” I asked, indifferent to the water on her cheeks or the red now slowly trickling down my neck.

“THE RUMOUR!” She yelped before she fell back into her sobs as her movements caused the knife to dig further into her skin.

“Who was it?” I asked calmly, not relaxing the pressure.

She didn’t answer straight away; too busy gasping for air between her blubbering. I twisted my hand  into her dress, grabbing a fistful of material before pulling her towards me and then violently shoving her backwards into the wall. Her head smacked back against the brick behind her, causing it to rebound forward and fall slightly against the edge of the knife - the contact of her skin on the cold steel causing her to shoot back upright. Her face was contorted in pain, but at least she had shut up. “Who was it?!” I spat at her again.

“J-Jake!” She snivelled.

“Jake who?!” I snarled, shaking her slightly as a threat that I wasn’t afraid to repeat her treatment again.

“Jake Riggen!” She cried out hastily before she broke down into tears again.

I released some of the weight I had on her, dropping the knife from her throat in my shock.

Twice. That was twice now that rat had betrayed me.

I felt Rebecca relax slightly under the grip I still had on her dress now that I had removed the weapon. That disappointed me.

I threw my weight back on her so she was shoved tightly up against the wall again, the knife-edge once more pinching into her throat.

“Where is he?!” I snarled.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 29

Hi Everyone - I want to post this chapter, though I’m not sure how happy I am with it. i keep reading it over and over and editing bits and pieces of it and I’m still not 100% happy with it but I’m also not sure how to truly make it better so I’m just going to bite the bullet and post it.

I apologise if I made Frost too soft - I struggle with his character quite a bit! Also I feel like bits of it are a bit choppy and it doesn’t really flow great, so sorry for that too!

I hope you enjoy it anyway!

I appreciate all your support and I love any feedback!

(I honestly can’t believe how many followers I’ve got so thank you sooooo much!)

Masterlist

Frost didn’t come back that day. When I had finally closed the door on him I had just broken down, finally letting the tears flow freely. It took me a while to calm down, I had trusted him, but why had I? There was nothing about him that should have made him trustworthy – look what he did for a living! Why had I even fallen for it?

After spending most of my day debating back and forth I finally went to my shift at the pub that evening. I was worried Frost would be waiting for me there - having somehow tracked down my job rota – and wanted to corner me somewhere public so that I couldn’t run without causing a scene. But I knew that I couldn’t live in fear of him forever – I had a job and I needed the money, my funds from my previous job having run low from my travelling and rent – so I had sucked it up and gone.

I was not regretting it however, having spent my shift constantly listening for the door - my head snapping over to it whenever it was opened. I was so jumpy I was asked several times if I was okay by the other waitresses - none of whom seem to believe me when I tried to reassure them.

Hannah was also there that evening. When I saw her start her shift behind the bar I felt my anger flood instantly back into me. She was the reason I was going through all this torment with Frost. “Bitch.” I muttered under my breath as I cleaned a particularly sticky table. The best thing for me to do now was to completely ignore her. Silent treatment was the only punishment I would allow myself to deal out to her, anything more satisfying would be frowned upon in a court of law, I thought bitterly.

Something in me seemed to have seriously changed.

She didn’t seem to notice any change in me though – we barely spoke anymore now anyway since the newspaper incidence. Though we agreed to put it behind us, things were still awkward.

I tried to keep my mind of her and Frost throughout the shifts the next few days – though it never seemed to really work and it was mentally exhausting, causing me to collapse in bed each night with a pounding headache.

After a week of no sight or sound from Frost - but still hours of torment on my behalf - I presumed he had left town. Whether he had moved on or gone back to Gotham I didn’t know and was trying not to care.

I was close now to getting enough money to finally be able to move on from this small life and start once again - now having handed in my two week notice to my boss. To celebrate, I was allowing myself a chance to finally relax by nursing a cup of tea curled up in my armchair reading an old favourite book of mine. I was taking a sip from my mug when I heard a knock at the front door. I frowned wondering who it could be, I presumed it must have been the farmer – I had asked him to come over when he was free so that we could talk about my final rent payment – I was paying him a bit extra for my sudden departure.

I put my book down in the arm of the chair and pushed myself reluctantly out of my chair, heading to the front of the house.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open to see Frost stood on the doorstep. I immediately slammed it shut.

“[Y/N!” He called through the wood, hammering repeatedly on the old door.

“What don’t you get about going away?!” I shouted at him. He stopped knocking.

“What don’t you get about moving?” he retorted back loudly.

“I’m -,” I paused, searching my brain for an excuse, not wanting to tell him - out of pride - that I had been too low on funds,  something he was probably unfamiliar with – I imagined his previous job paid relatively well. “Hang on! Have you been watching me?!” I cried in realisation at what his words meant. I couldn’t believe it – trust Frost to not only still be in town, but to also be following me without me even knowing. “And if you must know,” I said curtly, “these things require a certain amount of planning!”

“[Y/N] just let me in.” Frost groaned through the door.

I rolled my eyes in frustration and pulled the door open again, wide enough to get a good look at him, but I made sure to fill the doorway so he couldn’t barge past me again. “I thought you left town.” I said through gritted teeth.

“I will. But I need you to hear me out.” He said.

“If what I need to hear are more excuses as to why I need to go back to Gotham and to that psychopathic killer, then no.” I snapped, slamming the door in his face and stalking down the hallway to the opposite end of the house - ignoring his persistent knocking and shouting – and settling back into my chair where my tea and book awaited.

It went silent and I breathed a sigh of relief. He must have finally got the gist and left – thank God.

“{Y/N] please-“

“Jesus!” I shouted jumping out of my arm chair and instinctively spinning and flinging my book at Frost where he stood in the doorframe of my lounge. The hardback hit his chest before falling limply to the floor, without producing any reaction from him. I clutched at my chest as my heart pounded frantically and I shook with the adrenaline in my veins. How the bloody hell was he in my house?! He’d scared the life out of me! When I realised exactly what he must have done my temper flared and I gritted my teeth in anger as I rounded on him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!” I screamed at him, “You can’t just bloody break into my house like that!”

“I didn’t.” He said calmly.

“What do you bloody mean you didn’t – you’re – you’re in my house!” I shrieked, flailing my arms wildly.

“I just went through your back door – you’re garden gate wasn’t lock and your back door was open.” He defended.

“And you think that’s justifies you just walking in my house when I clearly don’t want you here?!” I yelled, advancing on him with clenched fists – my fury clouding any sane judgement of mine.

He held his hands out in surrender at my menacing movements, though I doubted I could do much damage to him – though I was sure going to give it a try.

“[Y/N], I just want to talk.” He stated clearly to me, backing up slightly to show he didn’t want to fight me – as we all knew I was the one that was going to end up hurt most likely.

“You’ve already spoken.” I spat, “You said all you needed to say. I don’t need any more of your damn lies!”

“I haven’t lied.” I hated how composed and passive he was being - it just irked me more.

“Prove it.” I snarled at him.

“How am I supposed to do that?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows at me.

“I don’t care.” I barked, “I’m not the one that wants to be listened to!”

“Don’t you think if I had told the Joker you were alive he would have come and got you himself?” Frost posed at me quickly, still attempting to avoid confrontation.

I paused in my movements, considering this for a moment, “Maybe I just don’t mean that much him – I’m only a ‘toy’ to him after all.” I pointed out, sourly

“Only a toy?” Frost repeated back at me, “[Y/N], trust me, you are not just a toy to him.” He insisted.

“Sure bloody feel like one.” I muttered.

“Do you think he’d jump into a river after a toy?” Frost asked, “Do you think he’d carry the gun of a ‘toy’ around with him everywhere?! Do you think he paid millions to Penguin for a toy?!”

I stood sulkily staring at the door frame next to Frost whilst he rattled off at me, but I abruptly shot my head up when he mentioned the money and  Penguin, “When did he pay millions for me?!”

Frost paused, breaking off his tirade to look at me properly, “When he got you out of the contract with Penguin.”

“What?”

“Penguin never told you?” I didn’t answer but my blank stare into space could have spoken for me.

“When was this?” I questioned faintly.

“About 2 days before you jumped.” He answered almost softly, which would have surprised me had I not be numb from shock.

I tried to think back to when exactly this had happened. 2 days before I had put my plan into action must have been the day that Penguin had told me he was planning to rent me out. That was the night the Joker had visited my dreams. Had I somehow subconsciously known he was in the building? Was that what caused my nightmare that night? Did it really matter? Either way I was free.

I had been free the whole time. Penguin had never told me, maybe he had hoped that I would just continue to work for him, never asking about the contract and never attempting to break it – therefore never having to tell me.

Why hadn’t the Joker sought me out to explain what he’d done? Maybe because you ‘killed’ yourself before he could, chimed in the snide voice in the back of my head.

But why had he got me out of the contract in the first place? What good did it do him? I couldn’t believe he would do something nice without expecting something from me in return. Was that why he got so annoyed at Penguin when I jumped off the bridge?

But maybe this was all just another lie from Frost. “You honestly expect me to believe that the Joker would do something out of the kindness of his heart?” I snorted in disbelief.

“I do believe he expected something from it.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“You.”

“That’s not even funny.” I sneered.

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” Frost stated steadily, ignoring my bitter attitude.

“He doesn’t seriously expect to buy me?!” I exclaimed.

“I don’t know what he was thinking and I never try to.” He admitted.

I rolled my eyes at this unhelpful point. “Well if that’s all,” I snapped, “can I please now insist that you leave.” I said moving towards him once more in an attempt to herd him into the hallway.

He stood his ground so I had to stop before I walked into him. I let out deep sigh of annoyance and tried to curb the desire to stamp my feet like a 3 year old.

“Frost!” I groaned “Why won’t you just leave me in peace?!”

“Because, [Y/N]” he started and I thought I noticed a flash of emotion in his eyes, “when I left the Joker I knew there was something seriously wrong. I knew he cared about you but I only realised how much when you left. I was certain the only way to return things to normal was you. But you were dead.

So when I saw you the other night in the pub you can understand how surprised I was, and - I’m not going to lie - initially I had it in my mind to get you back to Gotham  - or at the very least tell him. But, then I saw how you seemed to be doing so well without him and – I guess” He shrugged, grudgingly, “I have slightly grown to like you to and I know how much he tortures and mistreats people and – for some reason - I didn’t want to take you back to that.” He admitted, clearly slightly baffled by everything he was saying, but feeling like he needed to say it anyway. I could feel a lump of emotion forming in my throat again as I listened to his words, my heart beginning to feel raw again.

“But then we spoke.” He continued, “That’s when I saw it – mainly when we spoke about him. You miss. You’re broken just like he is. You need him. You –“

“Enough Frost!” I cried smacking my hands repeatedly against his chest. “No! Don’t pretend to know what I’m feeling or what I need! You don’t know me!” Angry tears threatened once again in my eyes and I wished I would stop breaking down in front of him. I let my hands slap against his chest one more time before I just let them remain there, my fingers curling into his black shirt and -without thinking about it - I let my forehead rest between my hands on his solid upper body. He fell silent as I took deep shuddery breaths to fight the sobs that threatened in my throat. I couldn’t deal with this right now. I didn’t want to hear it.

Eventually I pushed myself off him, wiping my eyes and trying to look him in the face with some dignity, though my vision was blurry. “Please.” I shakily exhaled, “Just leave.”

He seemed to understand that, in my state, there was no use hanging around trying to convince me otherwise of intentions. He stepped back reluctantly into the hallway and let me pass as I moved in front of him, sniffling as I led the way to the front of the house. When I pulled open the front door he stepped out without a word, but as I went to close it he put his foot in the way. I scowled at his shoe and slammed the door against it several times but he didn’t move or even appear to flinch. “I am honestly only going to say one more thing.” He said, interrupting my assault, and I looked up at his face. He sighed as though it was difficult to say, “This isn’t good for anyone – not you, not him, not Gotham. It’s going to kill one of you – mostly likely him.” I stared at Frost’s honest face with watery eyes, pleading for him to make sense to my chaotic mind. “My point is [Y/N],” he persisted, “don’t be surprised if one day he’s gone. You won’t see him ever again.”

“I don’t plan on it.” I snarled at him, but the water welling in my eyes diminished the fury in my voice.

“But at the moment you still have the option.” Frost pointed out logically, seeming to return to his frowning-unemotional self, “There is nothing stopping you from going to him at this very moment, apart from you. Soon that may no longer be possible.” And with that he withdrew his foot and I fell forward, not realising I had been leaning on the door until it began to close after him. I pulled it open but he was already half way across the yard and I no longer knew what I wanted to call out to him.

Instead I turned around, wiping at my eyes and closed the door behind me. My legs were weak now and I didn’t have seem to have the energy or motivation anymore to move from the spot I stood on. So I pressed my back against the door and allowed my legs to give way beneath me so I sat slumped on the prickly doormat, my head resting on the wood behind me as I stared up at my uneven ceiling.

What the hell had just happened? Why can’t Frost just leave me alone and stop making me feel so shit? Was what he said true? Did he really think the Joker was doing all of this because he though I was dead? Was it true that the Joker’s death was so imminent now? Was he really being that stupidly reckless? My head spun with questions and I gripped the sides of my head, scrunching my eyes closed, trying to ease the pounding with the pressure my hands.

Did I care enough for him, miss him enough, love him enough, to save him? If, of course, I was indeed the reason he was doing this? Could I really just hand myself back to the pyscho? I thought opening my eyes once more and letting my hands drop away so they hung loosely in my lap, my head whirling with hopelessness. Would anything have changed or would he be just as cruel, just are malicious as he had been to me before?

But even if he was, could I just let him die anyway? I thought he’d been dead before and, for some reason – still unknown to me - I had been heartbroken. And, as much as I hadn’t wanted to admit it to him or to myself, Frost was right. I did miss the Joker. A lot. I had tried to fight it but something had snapped in me and I could see it clearly now.

Damn it. I loved him. I thought closing my eyes in defeat against my own mind.

I still didn’t understand it. I couldn’t see how I possibly could find anything to love in that man, but I did. There was something there and I was going to have to except it. The question was what did I do about it? Did I live here, safe from him but both of us miserable and me lonely and searching for something I would never find, or did I go back – possibly putting my own self in danger and subjecting myself to a lifetime of manipulation and brutality?

I let my head fall forwards so my chin lay on my chest, my eyes now open and watching my hands in my lap. Surely I was better off alone; surely Gotham was better off without him? Shouldn’t I deal with the fact that he would die if it meant that all of Gotham was safe from him? Wasn’t that the right thing to do? The greater good and all that?

But now that I thought of Gotham and its people I could almost slap myself for not thinking of them sooner. Their lives were being destroyed and ruined by this madman – possibly because of me. Sure he might die, but if he didn’t and I didn’t return then he would continue to wreak havoc on innocent lives. I owed it to the city I loved to do what I could to stop the carnage the Joker was causing – even if that meant putting myself back in his firing line.

I swung my head upright to face forward.  Was that it then? Had I decided? Was I going back to Gotham?

I guess I was. Whether I had decided this because I couldn’t let helpless civilians be killed because of me, or because I couldn’t stand the idea of him dying, I didn’t know or pause long enough to give myself the true answer.

I was going back to Gotham.  

I pushed myself up to my feet energetically – the confrontation of everything I had been supressing and my new resolve giving me a new sort of energy. I needed to figure out what I had to do now and Frost was the best person to help. How long had I been sat there thinking about all this? How far could he have gotten? I spun on my heel and wrenched open the door - ready to run down the land by my house in search for the henchman - only to find Frost stepping up to my front door, breathing heavily.

“Frost!” I exclaimed in surprise - and if he noticed my mood change from only a few moments ago he didn’t say anything.

“[Y/N] – I know I said-“ He started and the look on my face soon wiped away any relief I had upon seeing him.

“What is it?” I asked in bewilderment, wondering why he was in such disarray and why he looked so worried. Instead of answering he thrust his phone at me. I tried to look around the device at Frost to ask what this was all about, but then I noticed what was on the screen - It was an online news article from the Gotham Gazette.

The headline read ‘Joke’s Over?’

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 28

Hiya!

Next part is ready - sorry its rather long but I must admit I’m quite proud of the ending so I hope you enjoy it too!

Promise the Joker will eventually return! (sorry there hasn’t been much for a while!)

Let me know what you think - I love hearing from you guys!

Trigger Warning: There is a mention of suicide - its literally just the word and doesn’t go any further than that really but don’t read it if it’ll trigger you please!

Masterlist

When I woke up the next morning, I was staring up at the ceiling. I blinked a few times - not knowing where I was for a moment and could feel my heart pounding before my situation rushed back to me and I calmed slightly. All too soon though the night before came back to me and my heart seemed to skip again. “Oh my god…” I groaned out loud, turning over in my bed and burying my face in the pillow, throwing the little bit of duvet over me that wasn’t in a pile on the floor.

I stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to build the momentum to get myself out of bed and attempt to be alive. Eventually I rolled out, catching myself before I hit the floor and giggling too myself. Obviously I was going insane, or maybe I was just still seriously tired.

I dragged my feet around the house as I got ready for the day – luckily not having a shift at the pub until late that evening. As I flicked the kettle on and pulled down a mug from the shelf above the sink I heard a knock on my front door.

I looked at my cup in confusion. No one ever called at my house – did anyone even know where I lived? I moved toward the door cautiously, hearing another knock - more impatient this time. I moved a bit quicker toward the door and pulled it open. There, stood before me, was Frost. He was dressed in his usual attire of suit, jacket and a frown, but compared to last night, he was much more orderly - his shirt crisp and ironed, his tie neatly knotted closer to his throat. He looked smart and rested.

I scowled at my unwelcome guest. “How did you know where I lived?”

“Asked.” He stated simply, pushing past me into my house. I didn’t bother to resist him, just let him push past as I was left stood in the doorway looking out into the yard with my forehead crinkled in confusion.

“Who?!” I exclaimed wildly - at a loss as to who knew where I lived. The only person that should know was the Farmer I rented from, I’d never told anyone else – it took a while for me build that sort of trust up, especially now.

“A women in the Bed and Breakfast,” called Frost as he walked away, “the maid? Or maybe she was the owner? Might have been both.” He said dismissively.

I remained in the doorway, glaring daggers at his retreating figure, “I’ll have you know Maggie is a perfectly nice lady! Don’t be so damn rude!”

He ignored my scolding and continued down the hallway without hesitation, peering into each room he passed. I sighed in exasperation at his lack of response and poor manners as he just causally strode through my home. I slammed the front door shut in frustration before following on behind him, muttering to myself “How the hell did Maggie Dune know where I lived?!”

Frost must have heard because, as he turned into my kitchen at the end of the hall, he called back over his shoulder, “You appear to be the talk of this small town – I was questioned by nearly everyone in that tiny house when I asked about you.”

I sighed shaking my head at this. Small town gossip. I should have known. Everyone knew everyone here and actively sought out information about new people. I was lucky that I had covered my past well before moving here or else it wouldn’t have taken long for them to dig it up – well I had it covered up until the other-day.

I turned the corner at the end of the hallway and entered the kitchen to see Frost peering around the small room, apparently unimpressed with it based on his facial expression.

I was about to demand what he was doing here when the kettle signalled for attention with his high pitch sharp whistle. I pushed past Frost who was stood in the middle of the room and grabbed my mug before pausing. I sighed again – curse my good manners – “Do you want a cup?” I reluctantly asked, turning slightly towards him.

“Please.” He affirmed, “Coffee. Black. No sugar.” He directed. I nodded at the instructions and turned my back to him again as I made the drinks, whilst Frost leant against one of my counters, continuing to observe his surroundings. I couldn’t help but wonder, as he stood there, what he was thinking. Did he have training for this? Did he just enter a room and immediately clock all viable escape routes, all possible weapons in a room? Was a spoon a weapon? I thought looking at my counters where there was a few dirty dishes and cutlery say. I shook my head – pointless thoughts. I would never know because I would never ask and I was almost certain he would never tell – at least not the truth.

I turned back to him with the two mugs, handing him one of my more sophisticated mugs that didn’t have funny words or pictures on them and was slightly less chipped than most – though he still seemed to look at it with a certain amount of disdain. I rolled my eyes at his pickiness and moved to the opposite side of the small room, copying his stance as I leant half on a counter and half on the sink, sipping my drink.

We stood in awkward silence again, the openness we had gained from last night’s frankness and alcohol having been boarded up once more with fresh morning and formalities.

I fought back the urge to fidget and swallowed the nerves I could feel growing in my stomach. “So why are you here?” I asked outright.

“I thought I made that clear last night.” He said, raising one eyebrow at me as though he was wondering if I had some sort of memory loss problem, and taking a drink, his eyes not leaving me.

“Not here, as in the town. Here as in my house!” I clarified hotly, gesturing wildly at the room with my free hand.

“I thought that would be obvious.” Frost stated vaguely. I could feel him getting on my nerves quickly, but I didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose.

“God I preferred you when you weren’t sober.” I muttered in annoyance at my floor by his feet as I took a sip from my mug. When I looked up I noticed he had raised his eyebrows at my comment

“I told you my side last night. You need to tell me yours.” He told me, un-amused by my little side comment. “Don’t think you can skip town on me either.” He added his frown deepening - indicating that he had seen my suitcase sat in the corridor on his way in. “I know you’re alive now. I know ways to track you that wouldn’t even cross you mind – I’d always find you down eventually.”

It was true I had considered making a run for it last night before I had collapsed into bed, but in the cold light of day I couldn’t for the life of me remember what my sleep-deprived brain had been thinking of in terms of a plan. I could no longer see any situation in which I could run and avoid Frost – like he said, he could easily find me. The real question was – why did he want to? Why was he so desperate to talk to me so much? Surely knowing how I died would make no real difference to him?

I shrugged at him, unfazed by his warnings as I wasn’t actually planning on it anymore, “You can’t really blame me for considering it.” I said to annoy him a bit.

Frost sighed deeply as if there was a large stress on his shoulders, “Look [Y/N], I get why you left-“ I slammed my mug down on the counter top next to me.

“Do you?!” I demanded, ignoring the liquid that slopped over the edge of my mug and was forming a puddle around the base of my cup. “Do you understand every little tiny detail that was going on in my life?!  Do you understand how everything made me feel? How Penguin made me feel?! Did you know he was going to hire me out as ‘entertainment’” I cried, quoting angrily at him with my fingers, almost in hysterics, “all because that damn clown had shown an interest in me and tricked me into fal-“ I faltered then, dropping my head and covering my face with my hands as I sobbed loudly. I couldn’t admit it to Frost; it was too embarrassing, too fresh and too painful.

Frost didn’t say anything, clearly lost by my sudden outburst and not use to dealing with emotional women – angry gangstas, powers mob members, armed cops - sure.

A pathetic girl crying her heart out in front of him – that was something he wasn’t trained for and had basically no experience with – other than maybe putting a bullet in their head.

I remained hidden behind my palms, as the tears continued to stream down my face, but I heard Frost put his mug down and felt him move towards me slowly, almost cautiously. Suddenly I felt his strong arms wrap around me and I was pulled against him, my hands dropping from my face and instinctively landing on his large, hard chest, maintaining a small distance between us.

“What-“ I sniffed in confusion and surprise.

“Just shut up for a second.” Frost commanded gruffly and I closed my mouth. The shock of the gesture had stopped my tears and I let my hands drop in defeat so they hung limply at my side, his arms pulling me deeper into the hug. My body was now completely against his, my face pressed into the lapel of his jacket. I could feel my face getting hot even with cooling water on my cheek which was now dampening the material beneath me. I was glad my face was largely hidden from his eye - it had been a long time since I was this close to a man and it felt weird to be so intimate with Frost.

Frost didn’t seem to know how long he was supposed to hold me, but being crushed into the cashmere material made it hard to breathe and I was constantly sniffing in a desperate attempt not to ruin his suit with my runny nose. I tried to pull away slightly but I was pitifully weak compared to his strong embrace.

“Uh –Frosty?” I tried to gasp out faintly, speaking into his chest and tapping him as best as I could with my arms pinned to my side.

He released me and immediately created distance between us by stepping back a few feet. I dropped my face to hide the state I must look and frantically wiped at my eyes and nose so I would look slightly more presentable. I looked up through my eyelashes and saw Frost observing the ruined patch I had created on his jacket. I quickly grabbed a box of tissues that I had sat on the microwave and vaguely waved them at him without lifting my head. He grabbed a few with a murmur of thanks and then I did the same.

We both stood on opposite sides of the kitchen hopelessly trying to tidy ourselves us. It felt surreal.

After a while I thought I was slightly more together, but continued to pretend to be fixing myself because I didn’t want to stand in awkward silence again. I cleared my throat, swallowing the lump that had gathered in my throat, along with my emotions. I let out a deep breath in an attempt to gain back some control over myself, any annoyance or frustration with Frost having melted away with his unusually tender gesture. I felt like I needed to match his kindness by getting him out of this awkward situation of how to move forward. Best thing for him to do is ignore what just happened. I appreciated it, but I knew he’d be uncomfortable talking about it.

“So what do you want to know?” I asked frankly, ignoring what just happened in an attempt to show the same kindness back that he had shown me – I knew we were in the awkward situation of how to move forward, I also knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Best to pretend it didn’t happen, even if I appreciated it.

He looked up from his jacket when I spoke, briefly looking puzzled before he recognised what I was trying to do. He placed the tissue on the side, straightened his jacket out and faced me straight on, “How is it your alive?”

I wasn’t surprised at how blunt he was – I was finding it to be a clear Frost trait. I moved away from the counter - stuffing my used tissues into my back pocket and picking up mug - and went to sit at the small kitchen table. Frost followed in silence with his drink in hand and sat opposite.

As so I told him. I explained my original plan as well as what actually happened, no longer bothering to keep track of anything that I should maybe hold back from it. It was nice to confide in someone for once, feel like I could talk to someone without judging or people thinking I was insane – hell, Frost had probably heard much worst from him.

“That’s actually pretty impressive.” Frost admitted once I had finished, though I could tell he meant it was impressive for me, not necessarily him.

“Gee thanks.” I muttered sarcastically, partially still lost in recollection as I stared at my finger tracing the lip of my mug. The only thing that had really gone wrong with my plan was dropping my gun. I ran over the moment in my head, the faded and cloudy but I remembered hitting the water and, if I thought hard enough, I felt that I might be able to remember the point at which I lost the weight of the gun in my hand.

But maybe it was for the best. It stopped me thinking so much of him, it stopped me murdering someone, and it stopped me being traced back to Gotham – heck how was I going to explain I had a dead girl’s gun who looked a lot like me?

“He has it you know.” Said Frost out of the blue, breaking into my thoughts. “Your gun.” He clarified. Damn mind reader.

“I know.” I murmured, glancing slightly up at Frost, but continuing to draw a circle around the top of my mug with my index finger. He looked at me confused. I stood up and moved just behind Frost where I opened at draw in the counter and pulled out the old Gotham Gazette. “This found its way into the pub the other day.” I explained dropping it in front of him before sitting back down in my chair and taking a swig from my cup – the coffee now lukewarm. “Hence why I was ‘raving’” I quoted, smirking slightly.

Frost nodded in understanding, unfolding the paper and skimming over the article. I waited as he read, sipping aimlessly at my drink and staring into space. Eventually Frost refolded the paper, leaving the picture of the Joker with his unemotional rictus and dark blank eyes. I stared at it for a while, unable to take my eyes off it before I abruptly shot myself forward and flipped it upside down so only the text from the articles and a few adverts were visible. When I settle backed down in my seat I could feel my heart beat pounding against my skin and I stared at the colourful cup before me.

“He jumped in the river.” Stated Frost calmly, but making me jump slightly none the less. I looked up at him but he was staring in his own mug at the pool of dark coffee that remained in the bottom. “There was a moment when I actually thought he’d finally lost it.” Frost admitted, “Gone suicidal.” He explained, pausing before lifting his head to meet my gaze.

“But Boss remerged a few minutes later with your gun in his hand.” Frost told me, “Though that wasn’t what surprised me the most.” He shook his head slightly, as though he wanted the memory out of his mind.

“What?” I murmured, barely above a whisper, not bothering to correct him that he fallen back into calling him ‘Boss’ again.

“His face. It terrified me. He looked almost tortured. Like he’d seen something in those waters that had struck him to the core. That’s why I was so certain you were dead. I thought he’d seen you.

I couldn’t tell you what emotion he was feeling at that point – he looked angry at one angle, sad at another, but he always kept that damn grin of his on – though for once it didn’t me-“

“-meet his eyes.” I finished with him. He nodded at my guess. “That’s what I see when I look at that picture” I said quietly, and he knew I was talking about the newspaper.

“The only time I’ve really seen him like that before was when he went off on a rage at Penguin’s.” Frost said truthfully. I perked up at this.

“When did he do that?” I questioned.

“It was the afternoon after you jumped.” Frost informed me, “Penguin called a meeting with the Boss like he often has. I waited outside.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know the whole story – I couldn’t hear everything. He seemed to tell the boss what happened to you – Boss didn’t take it well. I think I heard him ask Penguin why you would have done it – Boss didn’t like that either.” Frost shook his head, “Then he just lost it. Completely. Damn near strangled that fat man to death. Took out most of his men – and it wasn’t quick and clean either.”

I looked away and gulped. I couldn’t imagine what it was like – I wasn’t that creative – but I knew what he was capable of.

“Once we’d made it outside we commandeered a vehicle and went to the bridge. Then he jumped.”

We fell into silence again as I digested the information.

“[Y/N]” Frost suddenly spoke up – clearly wanting to say something he’d been holding back for a while. I looked at him with concern – what was he so worried about? “[Y/N].” He repeated and I nodded to encourage him to go on, “I need you to come back to Gotham with me.” he said frankly.

I didn’t say a word, just stared at him in wide eyed shock. So he was here to take me back! Had he lied to me?! Had he known I was alive? Had he known I was here? Did the Joker?!

I could feel my mouth was slightly agape at but I couldn’t find it in myself to do anything about it. “You lied to me.” I breathed at him, “You said you didn’t know I was alive. You said you weren’t here to get me.”

“No -  [Y/N] – it’s not –“

“I can’t believe I trusted you.” I muttered, staring at the table in front of me, “I knew I should have run when I had the chance. I should have run when I saw that paper. I’m not far enough away.” I babbled to myself.

“[Y/N], you don’t understand. The Joker is doing all of this because of you!” Frost said, grabbing the newspaper that had been left forgotten on the table and flipping it so the main picture faced up again. “If you came back –“

“No!” I cried, pushing myself up abruptly so I stood before him, “Don’t you dare blame this all on me!” I screamed snatching the newspaper from the table and thrusting it in his face. Frost sat in silence, no retaliation leaving his lips. As I stood there in silence, holding the newspaper aloft and breathing heavily, I couldn’t help but think - What had got the Joker acting like this? It did seem to be me. But that couldn’t possibly be true. Maybe he was just pissed because I had found a way out of his traps. That I had escaped and he couldn’t play and torment me anymore. I was just a toy he had lost – he’d get over it soon and find a new person to turn into his life-size doll.

He was a manipulative, psychopathic torturer and I needed him completely out of my life. That meant no more thinking about him, no more newspapers, no more Gotham and definitely no more Frost.

I strode over to the bin and let the paper fall from my hand, shutting the bin over the top in with a satisfy thud. I then took a calming breath and turned to the henchman before me. “Frost. Thank you for telling me all this – though a part of me also wished you hadn’t” I admitted truthfully, I shook my head – I had to be strong, stern. “I see no further reason for us to see each other,” I stated briskly, “so I shall walk you to the door and I wish you well on wherever you are going now.”

Frost looked surprise at my sudden turn of mood, and stood up alongside me, the coffee mugs left cold and forgotten on the table, “[Y/N] I –“

“I would also like to inform you,” I interrupted him, “that I shall be moving on from here as soon as can be arranged and I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t attempt to find me.” I told him formally but firmly, though already I could feel tears pricking at my eyes and my throat going tight.

“But [Y/N] –“

“Enough! Frost.” I cried, biting back my tears as they welled in the corner of my eyes. “There is nothing else I can give you! You have the answers you wanted! Isn’t it time you left me in peace?” I insisted. Frost looked lost as to what he should do now, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. “Look, I’d like to consider you a friend.” I said honestly trying, but failing to hide the emotion in my voice, “So can you be a friend and let me get on with my new life, without all this drudging up of my past?” I begged.

He looked at me and I think he could see how desperate I was to get him out of my house. He finally gave me a silent nod and followed me out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. I opened it and he stepped out. “One last thing Frost.” I called, “Please promise me you won’t tell anyone about me, especially him.” I looked him dead in the eye and he looked back. There was something there. He still wanted to say something. “Promise me.” I pleaded and I could feel one traitorous tear fall down my cheek.

He nodded. “Say it!” I cried.

“I promise.”

And with that, I slammed the door closed.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 23

Next part is out - bit weird format - I’m just playing around now and trying out some new things so let me know what you think about it!

Thanks for reading as always! Enjoy!

I don’t really know how long I sat there, but the hard steel beneath me quickly became very uncomfortable. I tried to stop myself fidgeting too much in case anyone caught sight of movement above them in the shadows.

There was a quite a team they had put together who swarmed around beneath me. They didn’t seem content with not finding a body on the bank and so were now scavenging for any object that might connect to me. I couldn’t see further out into the river than the immediate water below, so I wasn’t sure if they were searching the deeper parts of the river yet, but I could hear others shouting beyond the bridge in a way that suggested they were giving instructions, and the sound of a motor belonging to some sort of vehicle had started up, loud and reverberating in the echo-y space around me - making it even harder to hear what people were doing.

I sat there for hours bored out of my mind, the only thing I could do was listen to the conversations, only getting frustrated when all I could manage to hear was a few distinct words amongst a consistent mumbling. Some people got close enough for me to actually make out what they were saying, but I got bored of their conversations quickly – most people questioning at least once why I would do it  - how shit my life must had gotten - and speculating what could have pushed me this far.

After a while, though, some of the ‘regulars’ that walked below me starting chatting about their own lives and troubles instead – I got quite a bit of gossip from that. Justin was struggling with his money – thinking about taking a second job or finding a cheaper place to rent. Kyle was having trouble with his girlfriend – they seemed to be long distance. Laura was on a diet – though she didn’t need to be- and hated it apparently – she’d already eaten too many carbs today according to her – though no one seemed to care based on their muttering.

At last the people began to thin out, fewer and fewer coming within hearing range, even fewer coming within my site. Maybe they were giving up for now? Or moving further down the river? Or changing shifts of workers? I was still worried that if I dropped down now I would be noticed by a straggler or maybe they weren’t actually gone, but just fallen a bit quiet for now. I needed to check though. I carefully turned myself around so that I lay on my stomach on the bar and spun so I could hold onto the bar and cautiously lower my head down so I could see further.

Shit. A pair of boots had come within sight and I abruptly pulled my head back up into the darkness of my hideout, stifling a gasp. I swung myself back so I was once again lying length ways across the bar and strained my ears for a sound of footsteps or a voice through the noise of the river lapping against the bank below.

Once my heart had calmed a bit from its racing pace and adjusted myself back to my original position so that I was sat upright, my legs stretched before me.

I’ll just leave it a bit longer, I thought, not having the courage to try that again anytime soon and resigning myself to another long wait.

I couldn’t keep track of the time in my little refuge and I’m sure it felt longer than it was – every minute dragging like an hour, every muscle stiff and uncomfortable.

Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore – I hadn’t heard a voice or seen anyone wander past the entire time, maybe it was time to try again. I began to swing myself back to my odd position when some movement my eye.

It was man. He was in clothing that suggested homeless – ragged jeans, many layers of clothing - each of varying degrees of filthy - under an oversized battered coat and an old, baggy beanie hat perched on a matted dirty blond hair. He made his way to the large bridge support and settled himself down – clearly seeking shelter out of the strong wind that I could see stirring the cold water.

I thought my options through. He was unlikely to be here if the search parties were still combing this area, could I risk this one guy seeing me? He might be helpful in getting me out of here unseen - who would he tell anyway? He probably hadn’t even heard of my recent demise, besides, few people in Gotham would probably believe him – most of the people on the streets around here were at least a little bit mad in one way or another – this meant that any homeless persons was condemned as mentally lacking and a story of a dead girl walking was not going to get him far.

Making up my mind I slipped my legs over the side, scowling when my aching muscles finally gained some relief from its uncomfortable position. I turned onto my stomach and shimmied my way over the ledge till I hung from my fingers. I let myself drop and I landed on my feet, staggering on the mud beneath me.

I turned to see the homeless man eyeing me in surprise. I gave him a friendly smile - which may have looked more like a grimace - and then glanced quickly both ways to check for anyone else that was in the immediate vicinity. I couldn’t see anyone. I turned so my back was to the man and jumped to grab hold of my rucksack that was still stowed away on another supporting bar. I pulled it down, catching it and knocking my still-damp clothes off at the same time, causing them to fall into a heap on the sandy floor. Great.

I scooped them up in an heap and stuffed them ungracefully into my bag before slinging the straps over my shoulder.

I took a large breath and approached the scruffy man who was still watching me, more intrigued now I didn’t seem to pose a threat. I could see now that he also had a unkempt beard that matched his messy hair. I gave him another small smile, “Excuse me sir, are there many people still around on the bridge?” I asked as politely as I could – killing with kindness – hoping he’d answer.

He didn’t answer straight away and seemed to be weighing up his own options. I began to wonder if he was one of the homeless that truly did have more than a few screws lose. I was really getting fed up with dealing with insane people.  He continued to study me with a slightly squinted look, as if he wanted to ask me why I wanted to know. He seemed to think better of this – deciding he didn’t care what I was doing or why, and instead answered, “No ma’am, it’s prett’ dead up there. Mos’ at work I suppos’.”

I gave him a wide smile at his answer, “Thank you very much!” I dug around in my bag and found some of my cash, handing him a few notes, “I really appreciate it!” He took my money after a slight hesitation, and gave me a toothy smile as he watched me in slight awe as I threw my bag onto my back and made my way up the slope to the rest of the city.

I pulled my the hood of my jacket over my head - the overcast sky not making this too unusual -  before coming into site of the road. I hoped that the change in my clothes would stop anyone recognising me and thinking that I could be anyone other than another general pedestrian - but I wasn’t taking the risk of showing my face too clearly just yet – just in case not everyone from earlier had moved away yet.

I still made sure to keep my head low, however, as I strode away quickly, melting into the few people still wandering the streets as I headed into the centre of office blocks and skyscrapers – this time on the opposite side of the river to the way I had come.

I made sure not to look at anyone and keep my eyes on the floor, pulling my hood as far over my face as I could and only looking up when the I noticed the immediate area was empty of anyone. After walking for at least 30 minutes in no particular direction - attempting to be as unpredictable as possible by taking random turns at cross roads and T-junctions – I finally decided to stop.

I was stood in the middle of a long empty street. The buildings on either side were tall glass office buildings and anyone usually found here was sat at their desks in their offices above me. Cars continued to pass me, but too concerned to on where they were going to care about me.

I hailed a taxi. It was time to leave Gotham. Start anew.

No one would find me, no one would come searching. I was dead.

 The Joker looked down at his hands. Bloody. He liked them that way. It accented his tattoos and his white skin. Others seemed to find it off putting and he wondered why as he pulled his white gloves back over his hands to hide the stains. He wanted to avoid any unnecessary time wasting.

The blood belonged to numerous people, all Penguin’s men, and some of it Penguin’s. He didn’t regret anything. The bird brain had it coming to him.

He was now sat in the back of one of Penguin’s cars being driven to the bridge. He hadn’t asked for the car – just slipped into the back seat and told the man to drive. The foolish boy had been about to protest, but didn’t think twice when he had looked in the rear view mirror and seen the green hair and red grin. You just didn’t say no. The blood had convinced him even more.

Frost had then slid into the front passenger seat, not questioning their destination, what had happened in the meeting, or the blood stains on his boss. He just sat quietly, his gun folded with his arms on his lap, monitoring the driver discretely out the corner of his eye whilst facing the city flying past the window.

Penguin sat at in one of the booths of his empty club, an ice pack resting on his collar bone against neck in an attempt to ease the angry red marks left by the insane clown. One hand continued to adjust the pack as it slipped down, the other nursed a strong drink – the only pain killer he would take.

He tossed the rest down of his drink down his throat and gestured for one of his men to refill it. There weren’t many left now that could stand thanks to the Joker - most were now recuperating in the staff rooms, hospitalised, or taken to the morgue.

The meeting hadn’t exactly gone to plan. That was an understatement. The Penguin hadn’t had the fun teasing session he had wanted – having seriously underestimated the Joker’s commitment to the girl and his lack of humour on the subject. Instead he had been interrogated whilst being throttled by the lunatic, only escaping with his life because the commotion had caused one of Penguin’s henchmen to interrupt. This had promptly led to the Joker sending a single bullet into his head and had, of course, summoned the rest of Penguin’s men to the small office, sending the whole club into chaos as the armed goons swarm upon them.

Most of hadn’t survived – especially the first wave. The Joker shot most of them, but soon became bored of this, instead opting to throw his gun away and instead had beaten and bloodied them to death, or - for an unlucky few – had left them within an inch of their life so that they lay cradling broken limbs or staunching large wounds as they their life slowly embed away.

How sadistic, thought the Penguin, throwing back yet another drink and relishing the burn in his throat and the warming of his chest as the alcohol worked its way into his system. Soon after having tortured his way out of the office, the Joker had made his way out of the club - not leaving anyone in his way standing. He had then stepped out onto the street and into a one of Penguins’ cars before he had sped off.

“Good riddance…” muttered the Penguin under his breath, scowling to himself. He didn’t care where the Joker had gone and didn’t mind losing the car if it got rid of the crazy fool.

He was almost glad [Y/N] was dead; the poor girl didn’t deserve to have that psycho clown in her life.

The Penguin had no doubt what had caused the poor child to kill herself now. It must clearly have been a combination of their binding contract – and all it entailed -, as well as the Joker’s unrelenting attention.

It was a good thing then, he supposed, sipping contently at his newly refilled glass, that he had never told her their contract was now void.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 16

Hi Everyone - sorry this has taken longer than usual I’ve been trying to write it for a while and it started to become too long so I’ve split it into two chapters instead (and they are still really long!)

I apologise if this whole fanfic isn’t making much sense - I’m struggling to see the bigger picture and am sort of making this up as I go along! In future fanfics I will attempt to stay a bit more focused and have a better plan!

(Also sorry I apologise for something on every chapter I post - I have this constant need to justify the ‘not great’ parts of my writing! Damn self-confidence!)

Anyway - hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

I woke up when I attempted to turn over onto my left and instead gasped in agony at the pain in my right shoulder. After taking a deep breath I slowly lowered myself so I was led back down, clenching my jaw against the burning in my shoulder.

I blew my breath between my clenched teeth, feeling how the pain seemed to mainly concentrate on a piece of tight skin on my shoulder. I took short rapid breaths and it seemed to dull the sting slightly. I tried to open my eyes, but dried tears kept my lids sealed and I rubbed at them - choosing to only use my left hand when I found I could barely lift my right arm without more shooting pain. Then I finally opened my eyes and the world swam before me briefly before focusing on the morning light that filled the room.

I didn’t bother to take in my surroundings - my eyes immediately shot to my shoulder. I was in a tank top so I could see clearly that it was completely wrapped in bandages and a thick pad was on the front portion. There was a dark patch under the pad where my blood had pooled and I let out a wobbly breath as I took in the situation. How bad was it? Oh my God! What if I couldn’t use my arm?! Am I going to be basically one-handed for the rest of my life? I was panicking but I couldn’t test out my arm because it hurt too much to even attempt to lift it. However, I could still clench my hand into a fist – though the tension down my arm made me hiss in pain.

I looked around in the hopes of finding a doctor or nurse to talk to and then I noticed - I wasn’t in the same room as before. Someone had moved me; my bed was now in a private room all to myself. On my left was a door with a window panel through which I could see nothing but a rectangle of orange-walled corridor. Next to the door was a bunch of hospital machinery and spare heart monitors -ready to be hooked up to the next patient – and, directly in front of me, the wall was lined with laminated wooden storage cupboards, probably housing a variety of equipment and drugs, and shelves that held folders and more vases containing plastic flowers like my last room.

My eyes continued to travel around the room until they landed on a chair that sat in the right hand corner of the room next to a wide window. I jumped when I noticed him – causing me to gasp at the stab of pain in my shoulder. The Joker. He was propped up in the meagrely padded wooden hospital chair wearing smart black trousers and a deep red shirt that hung open to expose his chest. His eyes were closed, his head hung back and partially rested on his vibrant purple coat that was draped over the back of the chair. He was asleep. Thank god. I clutched my chest with my left hand in relief. My heart was still beating 10 to the dozen and this was clear thanks to my heart monitor that was beeping out of control. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, but I was still very well aware of the Joker’s presence only a few feet away.

The beating eventually returned close to a regular rhythm but the sight of him had thrown my mind back into the memories of last night. At the time I hadn’t really been aware he was in the room – not until just before I had passed out when I remember seeing flashes of familiar shades of red and green that could only be him. Even then I was certain he had messed with my mind so I didn’t completely trust what I saw. I really needed to stop having these adventurous evenings – it was exhausting me both mentally and physically and I was now incredibly bruised as well.

But the Joker had saved me. That I couldn’t deny. But why had he saved me? What did he have to gain – why would he bother? Why had the man in black said my death would be revenge? What would killing me have accomplished?

As much as I wanted to leave this room as soon as possible now I knew who I was sharing it with, I also knew I needed to talk to the Joker and get some answers. For the past few weeks I had so many questions and no way of getting answers unless I confronted the Joker head on – no funny business - though that was unlikely when dealing with the clown, but I had to try.

I wasn’t going to be the fool to wake him up though.

At the same time I wasn’t going to sit here forever waiting – I needed to get out of this bed - I needed water for my throat and a bathroom – who knows how long I’d been out. The act of getting out of bed was going to kill me though - but there was no other option. I pushed myself up using only my left arm, grimacing against the burning in my shoulder no matter how much I tried to keep my right side still.

I swung my legs out over the bed, surprised to find myself in a pair of grey jogging bottoms. I detached myself from wires and pulled my IV drip out carefully - cringing at the movement in my arm and the tweak as the needle left my skin. I let it fall so that it swung down beside the bed. I cradled my right arm against my body and stood up, feeling a bit shaky on my legs. My heart monitor was going crazy with the lack of pulse so I quickly pushed a load of buttons until it shut up – glancing quickly behind me to check I hadn’t woken the Joker up.

Happy I hadn’t, I waited till I felt steady enough on my legs before I head towards the door – each step was stiff from my lack of movement for who knows how long. I grabbed the door handle with my right hand, the arm still cradled to my chest with my left. I twisted it – trying to only move my wrist - and pulled the door toward me, nearly unbalancing myself in the process. I slipped through the door silently and looked up and down the corridor

“[Y/N]?!” I turned toward the voice to see Frost straighten up from leaning against the wall to the left of my door.

“Hi Frost.” I greeted weakly.

“It’s good to see you awake! But should you be out of bed? Does the Joker know?” he questioned quickly.

“He’s asleep in the chair.” I answered. “Why is he here?”

“He hasn’t left your side the whole time you’ve been out.” He stated. I stood in silence processing this. Why?! It so frustrating that I didn’t understand his actions in the slightest. Most people you could predict, but the Joker was definitely not one of them.

“Frost what on Earth has been happening?” I asked hoping I would at least get a straight answer from him.

Frost didn’t answer straight away and seemed to be contemplating what to tell me. “Please Frost,” I whined, “I just want some answers!”

He sighed, “Well, after you passed out at the club the other night, boss put me onto to working out what had happened. We found a man who had been tailing you and CCTV showed him buying you a drink before the meeting.” He paused as he watched me take in the information. I nodded to show I understood. “We believe it was drugged and so caused you to pass out. After you were placed in hospital we tracked him and found he was planning another attack - presumably because his last hadn’t worked.

Boss left immediately after that without me. When I finally caught up and got to your room you were passed out and collapsed in a corner, with boss bent over you with shirt pressed to your bullet wound.” He explained gesturing to my bandaged shoulder as I tried to hide my surprise at this information.

“How long have I been out?” I questioned quietly.

“4 days.” He said gently.

“And he never left?”

“Never. When I arrived we moved you back onto your bed. When the doctors wanted to move you to a new room he nearly killed them all. Then, later - when they wanted to remove the bullet and stitch you up in the operating theatre - they asked him to leave the room and he ended up shooting a few until they decided it was wisest to just let him sit in the corner.” Frost chuckled quietly to himself whilst I just stared at the hideous orange wall in front of me in shock.

Frost noticed my silence and lack of response and his smirk dropped to a look of stern concern, “[Y/N] I strongly suggest you get back into bed and rest – especially before the Joker finds you have gone.”

“Sorry Frost,” I apologised quickly pulling myself out of my stupor, “I came looking for a restroom and a drink.” I explained knowing he was looking out for me - and himself - against the Joker’s temper.

Frost grabbed a passing nurse and explained the situation. She looked a bit shocked at the circumstances – knowing fully well who Frost was and making the connection with me - but she gathered herself quickly when she saw my condition and led me down the hall to the nearest toilets. She dropped me off at the door, promising to get me some water before she left, carrying on down the corridor.

I got a little lost on the way back down the maze of corridors but I soon figured out the general direction when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot and the subsequent screaming that echoed through the hallways. The Joker was awake. I felt sorry for Frost – he had tried to stop me and really didn’t deserve the anger that was now probably raining down on him. I would have run back to help him if every movement didn’t send searing pain up my arm.

As I turned the last corner I saw the Joker threatening Frost and some unlucky doctor who must have been passing by at the wrong time. “Hey! Leave them alone!” I called out bravely and walked as quickly as possible up to them.

Joker spun around aiming his gun at me. I could see his pale muscles flex with his movements and I gulped not realising I had stopped breathing. I thought I saw his eyes lightened slightly when he saw me, but it could have been a trick of the light because his then eyes flickered down to my arm cradled against my stomach and his gaze darkened. “Doll.” He growled before grabbing my good arm and hauling me back into my hospital room and throwing me roughly in the direction of the bed before crossing the room so he stood at the foot of the bedstead. I hissed in pain as I landed on my bad arm on the mattress and I felt tears swell in my eyes.

I blinked them away as the joker paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, his shirt flapping against his sides when he spun. I pulled myself up with my good arm, keeping my bad arm tucked up close to me, so I sat cross legged in the middle of the sheets and watched his movement. I let my bad arm rest limply in my lap and I could feel the hole in my shoulder throbbed like a second heart beat.

I could hear him growling lowly to himself as he paced, his eyes hidden under his dark brows. He wasn’t paying me any attention – it was almost as if I wasn’t in the room.

Suddenly he raked his hands through his hair and seized handfuls of the vibrant green strands, “SHUT UP!” he screamed at himself and I visibly flinched at the sudden outburst. He must have noticed my movement because he abruptly dropped his hands and spun to face me. His hair was now dishevelled, some strands fell over his face and his eyes were bright with craziness.

I could feel the fear coursing through me at the sudden show of his insanity and I couldn’t stand the intense gaze on my face any longer so I dropped my head to look at my hands on my lap. Wrong. He lunged at me from across the room to grab my chin, yanking me forward and pulling my head up violently. “Look at me doll.” His breath skimmed over my nose and I brought my gaze to meet his icy eyes, knowing better than to disobey him – especially when he was this close to me. “Better.” He purred releasing my chin and stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers and moving his hand towards my hair. This is ridiculous – I didn’t t know where I stood with this man! I pulled back abruptly leaving his hand outstretched in mid-air.

“No. Stop with bloody mood swings!” I snapped. He snarled again, curling his upper lip up to reveal his silver caps.

“You are pushing you’re luck today aren’t you doll?” he rumbled lowly retracting his arm slowly and then slinked around my bed in a predatory fashion. He then jumped onto the bed lithely in front of me, playfully copying my position and sitting cross legged in front of me. I used my good arm to shift myself backwards away from his close proximity so that I was sat on pillow of the bed, my back pressed tightly against the plastic headboard. “Aww, don’t run away baby.” He pouted mockingly. I glared at him and he responded with an sickly sweet grin, “I’ll be good – cross my heart.” He promised making a cross like gesture on his chest. I continued to eye him cautiously. “Don’t believe me doll? I’m hurt!” he teased. I remained silent and guarded – wary for his next change of mood where I could suddenly find myself thrown across the room.

He let out an exasperated sigh at my poor cooperation with his teasing. “Ok. How about we play a little game?” he questioned with a wide Cheshire-cat-like grin. I raised a silent eyebrow at him in question. He was up to something.

“You have questions.” He presumed. I nodded. “And so do I” My eyes narrowed at this – here we go. “The rules are simple! You ask a question, I’ll answer it, if - and only if - you answer one of mine.” He explained. “So,” He said, folding his hands on his lap and his face becoming serious as though I was one of his many business partners, “Wanna play kitten?”

I tried to think this through - didn’t they say not to make a deal with the devil? But I wanted answers and this was as good a way as any to get them. Sure he got to ask me one too but I didn’t really have that much to hide – he could probably find out whatever he wanted to anyway and, heck, he probably already had. I had nothing to lose.

I nodded briefly. “Fine.” His lips slid up into a sly grin and I suddenly felt like I made a terrible mistake. Gone was his mocking and jokes. The devil had arrived.

[thejokersenigma]

Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar 2017 - Day 15 - Oswald x Zsasz - Perfect Present

Sorry this is a day late, but I wrote it vaguely yesterday during my lectures and then spent the rest of the day traveling home for Christmas so didn’t get a chance to post it! It’s not great and quite rushed as even today I’ve been ridiculously busy, so haven’t even started today’s advent yet!

Hope you enjoy it anyway!

MASTERLIST

Oswald Cobblepot strode into his office moodily. All this Christmas joy was driving him insane. That was the 5th person to ask him for time off around Christmas and the 5th time that he had said no. Business didn’t stopped for the holidays so neither did they.

Suddenly Oswald stopped, staring at his desk in front of him and the Santa hat sat on it. Except, instead of the traditional red, it was black with white trim and, in large block felt letters it read ‘Bah Humbug.’

“Zsasz!” Shouted the Penguin glaring at the offending accessory.

The assassin appeared silently behind him in the doorway. Oswald grabbed the hat and spun as smoothly as his limp would allow him, shoving the hat at the bald man. “Find out who did this!”

“Don’t you want it?” He asked, his voice lacking any emotion.

“No! Get rid of it.”

Zsasz studied the hat in his hand, shrugged and then fitted it onto his own head, before striding off out of the doorway, the bobble of his hat bouncing behind him.

Oswald rolled his eyes in exasperation at the ridiculous sight.

  “Zsasz!” Came the strained voice of the Penguin once more from his office. The assassin appeared once more in the doorway, waiting alert for his orders. “What is this?!” Oswald snapped, leaning just out of his chair, hands pressed on his desk and jabbing one at the odd object before him.

“A penguin” Answered Zsasz simply.

“I can see that.” Said Oswald, painfully restraining himself, “but why is it on my desk?!”

“It’s a present.”

“From who?” Asked Oswald, bewildered.

“From Me.” Said Zsasz. “You didn’t like the hat, so I got this instead.” Oswald stared at him with a furrowed brow and slightly open mouth like he’d gone mad.

“Why would I want a Penguin?”

Zsasz shrugged, ���It winds up.”

“And why would I want a wind-up Penguin?”

Zsasz shrugged again, “Could strap a bomb to it.” He suggested completely seriously.

Oswald just stared at him in bewilderment again before closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “ Just.” He breathed. “Get rid of it.” He said, waving his hands at the toy towards the door and then turning back to his work.

Zsasz took the toy.

 A few days later, Oswald once again entered his office at the Iceberg Lounge, around mid-afternoon, grumbling over the incompetence of his men. How hard was it to intimidate someone into a business deal?!

He threw himself down onto his throne-like chair in a huff, scowling at nothing in particular, then reached for his decanter to pour himself a much-needed drink, when his eyes landed on a box he hadn’t noticed on his desk.

He frowned at it in confusion, it was a perfectly wrapped and looked exactly like a stereotypical Christmas present with red wrapping paper and a golden ribbon that finished in a bow on the top.

No tag. That was suspicious, and yet Oswald had top security for any mail he received, none of it reaching him until it had been checked over for any attempt to remove him from his throne over Gotham.

So, it must be safe.

He took a knife from the pocket of his suit and – still carefully – slit the paper and ribbon, minimising the damage to the wrapping. He carefully lifted the lid of the box to find a severed head tucked neatly inside on a bed of tissue paper.

Immediately he thought this must have been a threat for him, that this was one of his men or business partners, but no, on a second look he recognised the man behind the swollen, slightly singed features. Marko. The gangster that had been refusing to pay any money to Oswald and failing to cooperate with any of his arrangements.

Oswald grinned triumphantly at the gangster’s head. Who had delivered the dead man to him?

He was about to open his mouth to cool for Zsasz once again, when the man suddenly appeared in the doorway to his office.

“Ah, Victor, just the man I was looking for – do you know who did this.” Oswald asked, gesturing to the box on the desk.

“Yes.” He answered in his usual monotone. “It was me.”

“Oh” Said Oswald, pleasantly surprised. “Well thank you, Victor.” He said, limping out from behind his desk, “That is very helpful.” He said with a smile at the assassin, stopping before him. “Probably the perfect Christmas present.” He admitted.

“Do you know how I did it?” Asked Zsasz with a sly spark to his eye and a smirk on his lips.

Oswald frowned in question at him.

“I strapped a bomb to that Penguin.”

Oswald’s eyes lit up at this. “Hmm… Maybe we should invest in some more…”

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 49

Hi guys,

Spending my last few days before uni starts to bust out another chapter! I was quite proud of this chapter until I edited it, now I'm worried the end it rush, but I'm gonna post it anyway!

Thank you very much for all the support you guys have given me, the likes, the comments, the follows! EVERYTHING! It means the world to me and keeps me writing when I feel shit (which is quite a bit!)

Thank you and Enjoy! :D xx

P.S Let me know if you have any requests (for any characters) that you would like me to give a go at writing.

P.P.S Let me know if you would like to be tagged in any of my work (let me which series you want to be tagged in!)

MASTERLIST

“Good job, boys.” Penguin praised from the opposite side of the door to where I crouched, the sound of his voice betraying the grin on his face. I watched through my small window between the door and frame, as the men withdrew from where they had been restraining the Joker to a small interrogation chair. I cringed as I caught sight of the bloodied and beaten man once more.

I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit here and watch it all unfolding, especially when I had no idea what Penguin’s end game was – though I highly doubted it involved the Joker leaving this alive – after all, why would it?

I glanced back pointless behind me to the empty corridor, most of it hidden in the darkness. I had to face the facts – I was doing this alone. No one was going to come to my rescue if I screwed this up – Frost was occupied elsewhere and the Joker was strapped to a chair half beaten to death. There was the option of trying to find Johnny, but I wasn’t sure how much time J had left for me to start running around searching for help. I needed to do something. Soon. Even the Joker deserved a better death than this.

 I slipped as close to then gap in the door as I dared, my gun feeling heavy in my hand as I held it close to my body. I continued to watch the scene through my limited view, fiddling anxiously with the weapon in my now-sweating hand, ready to use it at any sign that I had been discovered.

I could sit here forever, biding my time. But it wouldn’t help anyone.

I raised the muzzle of the gun so it fitted between the door and frame, aiming it at the two men opposite me. My hand – and the gun – were shaking like mad and I brought my other hand up to help steady my aim. I lowered my head so I stared down at my bent knee and took a deep breath, briefly closing my eyes.

Do it.

In one smooth motion I lifted my eyes, immediately choosing my target across the room and releasing a single shot I heard, rather than saw, the man drop to the floor, already retreating around the door frame as a hail of bullets rain into the wooden door, puncturing small holes and filling the air with miniscule splinters.

I waited for a pause in the fire before taking my chance and crouching back behind the bullet ridden door and taking the one shot I could get, not lingering to improve my aim. I heard the cry of pain as the bullet hit the remaining man’s leg, causing him to buckle at the knee. I darted back behind the door frame for a split second, barely pausing before I took the chance and flung myself back into the firing line to release another bullet straight into the man’s skull so he fell alongside his comrade.

I threw myself backwards, pressing myself up against the corridor wall, sheltering in case of any unaccounted-for men who might now join the fray and try to take a shot at me.

But nothing happened.

I left out a breath I hadn’t know I was holding, gasping shakily for air I hadn’t realized I needed. My heart was erratic in my chest and I relaxed my grip on my gun, slowly peeling away each finger from the handle, noting the pressure marks etched into my palm from where I had clung too tightly in my concentration.

No one was shooting at me, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more people in the room. I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet, feeling my top cold and damp with sweat, my limbs shaking from the adrenaline. I moved back towards the door, feeling vaguely unbalanced on my feet, grabbing the handle and, this time, stepping completely into the room, using the door as a flimsy shield as I pushed it open. I scanned the room as it came into view, all the time, my gun raised, my finger itching on the trigger for any sudden movement.

I soon determined the room to be empty apart from the Penguin and J and that we seemed to be stood in some sort of office – possible the Penguin’s. The furniture was dark but simple, a desk stood in the middle of the room, slightly pushed to the back, and filing cabinets and locked cupboards lined the walls. The few windows in the room were covered with blinds, only allowing thin cracks of light to leak through and strike the floor, the rest of the visibility coming from dark shaded lamps around the room and the dim light bulb in the center of the ceiling. There was only one other door in the room which stood ajar directly behind Penguin and, through the darkness, I could just make out shelves that suggested it was a store cupboard of some sort – this must have been where Penguin and his goons had waited to ambush the Joker.  

“Ah! Just in time my little sparrow!” Exclaimed Penguin, beaming at my appearance from being the damaged door, seemingly unfazed by the death of his two men a moment ago. I immediately trained my gun on him, watching him warily, though I couldn’t stop my gaze occasionally flickering to J who seemed to be quietly giggling away to himself as he was drunk on his bloodloss. “Though, I must admit, such sharp shooting as that which I just witnessed, made me presume you were the loyal lap dog, Johnny!” He exclaimed. I took in the odd little bird man as we stood there, both sizing each other up - though him less obviously so.

He was in his usual get-up of a smart – if slightly out dated – suit and waistcoat with the gold chain of, what I could only imagine to be a very expensive pocket watch, protruding from one of the pockets. His monocle perched precariously over his left eye and, as we stood there, he reached up to adjust his top hat that concealed his fast receding hairline.

“Drop the gun.” I instructed firmly, flicking my wrist that held my own handgun at his pistol that he had pointed directly at the Joker. He hesitated for a second -possibly weighing up the likelihood of me going actually doing anything if he refused – but I saw his eyes flicker to the bodies behind me before they returned to mine, allowing the weapon to clatter onto the floor. “Now kick it over there.” I instructed, nodding behind me where the bodies lay, a small pool of blood growing next to each. Penguin didn’t hesitate this time, immediately doing as I commanded and sending the gun skidding past me with a flick of his bad leg. I watched the weapon out of the corner of my eyes as it collided with the arm of one of the dead men, finally coming to a stop.

“Oooo hoo hoo!” Came a giggle from my right that made me jump slightly, “This is gonna be good!” I glanced at J, who was sitting slightly more upright now and grinning widely where he sat, still tightly bound to the chair. I gave him a warning glare, now was not the time for his ridiculousness. “Just look this, doll!” He exclaimed energetically, completely ignoring my hard stare. “The two men you hate the most. Both of us having done you wrong. Both of us at your mercy! You won't get another chance like this, Princess, best make the most of it!” He beamed manically, excitement bright in his eyes and I wondered how many knocks to the head he’d had.

“Shut up!” I snarled at him, though I part of me stored what he said. They were both at my complete mercy. I could do what I wanted with these criminals. Let them go.  Turn them in to the police. Kill them.

J didn’t seem to care about his though – he looked practically ecstatic about it – which made me suspicious. But, Penguin, however, was looking anything but pleased about the circumstances he found himself in, I look of loathing painted on his face as he stared coldly at the beaten Joker.

“Aww, come on, doll!” the J whined next to me. “Do something exciting for once in your life! Take the risk, live a little!” I glanced back over at him in confusion, not completely sure what he meant, “Don’t you want to rid yourself of this feathered fool?” I turned my eyes back to the Penguin. “No one would miss him.” Purred J, his voice quieter and smoother as he egged me on, “After all he’s done to you, after all he’s driven you to have to do…?”

“Ha.” I snorted angrily, abruptly spinning to face the Joker on his spindly chair, “Like you can talk!” I cried heatedly, “You’ve done nothing but trick, toy and play with me since I met you! You’re even trying to do it now!” I cried, “Hell, you’re the reason I’m even here in the first place - And I’m almost certain it’s because of some manipulative plan you have for me! Why else would you drag me out here with no explanation just to have me stand in a cold dark warehouse?!” I cried furiously, letting my emotions fuel my words. “So, tell me.” I said, panting slightly, “What was it you wanted to happen tonight? What was your ‘big plan’ behind dragging me out here with you?!” I demanded, my jaw clenched.

“I wanted exactly what’s happening now – for you to show me that other side of you that you fight so desperately,” He grinned sinisterly, a knowing look in his eye. “Though this was not the way I had originally planned.” He admitted, soberly with a nod, “But I take what I’m given.” He said, the grin returning instantly.

I felt the anger in me flare up again. This wasn’t fair, I had him at my mercy, at gun point, and he was still winning. I clenched my teeth, fighting back the angry tears I could feel burning in the corner of my eyes. “God!” I screamed, “Nothing's real with you, is it?” I cried, the agony clear in my voice. In a split second, I was certain I caught a glimpse of surprise on his face, maybe it was shock that I had the gall to talk to him like that, or maybe it was shock at the rawness of my emotions. Either way it vanished with a blink of his stormy eyes.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eyes and I suddenly remembered that the Penguin was still in the room with us. The very thought of the man only added fuel already burning hotly in my head.

“And you!” I cried furiously, turning my attention back onto the stout businessman “Don’t think I don’t blame this all on you!” I stated hotly.

“My sweet –“ Penguin began, throwing his palms up when the gun faced him once more.

“No!” I cried, fiercely, not wanting to hear his whimpered excuses. The gun shook my hand as I gripped it tightly, feeling the edges dig painfully into my palm, though I didn’t feel it. “You’re not using any of your greasy charm on me!” I snarled, “You were going to rent me out to men! To Two-Face!” I cried, jabbing the gun in his direction as I spoke.

Penguin flinched at every reckless movement of the gun. “No, my dear!” He exclaimed, “I'd never do that! It was merely a threat,” He insisted desperately, “A bluff!”

“Why would you need to threaten me?!” I demanded, irate and confused, “I did everything you told me to!”

 “Except you never did the one thing I wanted you to!” He cried angrily. I saw something flash in the Penguin’s eyes and it was my turn to cower. I hadn’t seen him look that dangerous before.

“I gave you ever possible opportunity to rid yourself of that clown shaped fiend!” He roared, jabbing a chubby finger at J, “I allowed unchecked weaponry in my building! I spent my own cash on teaching you how to use it! I gave you every opportunity available to get you and that clown in the same room!” He yelled, furiously. “A man you swore you hated!” He added, hotly. “But what happened?!” He demanded, “Even I could see it! You fell for the fool!”

 I stared at him in shock. Never for one moment had I thought that anything that had happened whilst I had been working for him, was because he had wanted me kill off the Joker.

Penguin made the most of the numbness that had taken over me, and spun around - rather smoothly for a large, overweight man – and snatched up his umbrella which I hadn’t seen propped against the wall behind him. He swung it around as he turned back to me, crashing it into my hand that held the gun out at him. I heard a sickening crack and the gun flew from my hand into the corner of the room. I grabbed my hand instinctively, the fire now spreading along my nerves, and cradled it to my chest as it throbbed.

Penguin returned the umbrella so it pointed back at me, before flicking a minute switch I couldn’t see, resulting in the tip of the umbrella falling open to reveal the barrel of a gun.

I was defenseless now and could do nothing. “Put ‘em up, my dear.” He scoffed, indicating my hands with a slight gesture of the umbrella gun. I reluctantly raised my arms, palms facing him, and I could already see my right hand was red and swollen compared to the other.

“Something I’ve learnt, my little sparrow,” Penguin began, hobbling himself toward me a few steps, “If you want something done,” He snarled, pausing in front of me, his breathing heavy from his exertions and I grimaced at the foul air, my body tensed, ready for him to shoot me. “You've got to do it yourself.” He stated, abruptly turning so now the gun was turned on J.

“No!” I cried in distress. I couldn’t help myself and I automatically reached out a hand towards the weapon that held my gaze.

“HA!” Penguin barked in an angry laugh, quickly turning the gun back on me and stopping me in my tracks. “Even now, my little song bird – even after all the anguish and torment he’s put you through - you still want to shield him!” It was true, I might have just been aiming a gun at him only a moment ago, but I had known there was no way I could have pulled the trigger. “You appear to continue to suffer this ridiculous notion that every feeling you have isn’t just a little game of his.” He sneered, limping back towards me. I couldn’t help it, I began to step back, trying to maintain the distance between us. “That maybe – deep down in his hollow torso – he might actually express a similar weakness!” He laughed harshly before the grin faded from his face and he stood still, a look of almost pity took over.

“I don’t want to have to kill you, my dear.” Penguin said, his voice quiet and croaky from his yelling, “But I won’t think twice if you try to stop me again.”

When I made no sign of retreating, or that anything he had said had made any difference to me, I saw his eyes flare again.

 “Wake, my sweet sparrow!” He cried dramatically and I flinched at the loudness, “See what the rest of us all see!” He called, swinging the umbrella back to point at the Joker “– the insane piece of filth with no more place on this Earth than the cockroaches that invade homes!” He spat.

I watched in horror as he turned to face J once more, advancing on him quickly, throwing his weight forward with every limp, dragging his useless leg behind and refusing to use the gun as a stick to aid him. I could do nothing as he reached J, ramming the tip of the umbrella up under his chin.

I hadn’t watched the Joker this whole time, but now I let my eyes focus on him. “The feeling’s mutual my feathered friend.” Growled the Joker darkly, his eyes hard and defiant on his enemies and his familiar grin still just as bright - as though he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else nowhere in that moment. I couldn’t believe he was so calm and uncaring under the barrel of death that pointed at him.

 I had to do something right now. I didn’t have time to think anything through. I panicked and the next thing I knew I found myself running blindly across the room at the Penguin, throwing my weight against his side and - thanks to not having his umbrella to steady himself – managing to knock the large man off balance, tackling him to the floor.

He let out a cry of pain as his hip collided with the hard flooring, and I made the most of his distraction to wrench the umbrella out of his grasp before he could gather himself together again. I turned the muzzle on Penguin as he shoved himself onto his elbows, grimacing in pain. When he caught sight of the gun-umbrella aimed at him, he froze. “Get in the cupboard.” I snarled nodding to the door behind him which remained slightly open from where they had jumped J. Penguin hesitated only a moment before he shuffled backwards, dragging his bag leg over the rough floor. I followed him, tracking his movements with the umbrella, until he was far enough inside for me to slam the door on him, quickly grabbing a nearby filing cabinet and dragging it so it blocked the door, barring Penguin inside.

Once I felt that Penguin was safely dealt with I let the umbrella drop from my hands so it clattered onto the floor next to me. I could feel my legs shaking from what I had just done, the adrenaline still running in my veins and I stared at the floor trying to let my mind catch up to my actions. That could have ended completely differently. With my dead body alongside the other two.

“Ahem? Doll?” Came a polite, but slightly irked voice behind me. I spun around in surprise, suddenly remembering J was still tied up behind me. I ran over to him, my eyes immediately travelling to a red streak against his pale jaw that I hadn’t noticed previously. “Oh shit, J! You’re bleeding!” I cried, his nickname slipping out of my mouth without thinking thanks to using it so much in my own mind. I grabbed at his neck, tilting his head without hesitation, to see a shallow gash where the umbrella must have caught him when I crashed into Penguin. I examined it carefully for a few moments before I became acutely aware of what I was doing and how much I was manhandling him, without – it would seem – any objection. He hadn’t even tried to break from my grip, even though it was possible with the small amount of movement he could manage whilst still tied to the chair – there was nothing holding his head in place.

I tore my eyes away from the wound now, though I made sure to move my hand to cover it in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. I directed my gaze to his eyes instead. He was staring at me. Staring with a look that I wasn’t sure I had ever seen from him before. Seen from anyone before. It wasn’t just hunger, there was something more vulnerable there for the first time since I’d met him. The first sign of weakness I had ever seen from him.

But then he must have moved because he was kissing me, my eyes quickly closing against the feeling of pure heaven that I found with his lips. I forgot about holding any pressure to the wound, my hands slipping up his neck to cup his face and pull him closer to me. I gasped for air, breathing in his scent and he deepened the kiss. I could feel my heart racing and I didn’t care, ignoring the rest of my body, and focusing only on the hard, cold cheeks under my fingers and the rough lips pushed up against mine.

I felt the growl against my lips before it reached my ears, “Doll, if you don’t untie me real soon, I’ll promise you’ll regret it.” Reality hit me and I opened my eyes, quickly breaking away from him and diverting my eyes with embarrassment at my behaviour, but not before I caught a look of the heat in his eyes. I didn’t know how I could tell, but I knew the threat was empty, but I dropped down to my knees anyway, busying myself with the complex knots.

I can’t believe I had just done anything that had just happened. My fingers trembled with the remains of the adrenaline and the effects of the passionate kiss.

The moment that Joker was free, I was wrenched upright by my shoulders and shoved roughly backwards till I was pressed up against a wall, the impact knocking the air out of me. He planted his hands on the wall either side of my head and bent down, his lips finding mine immediately. My arms hung limp at my side, quickly lost in the moment and too focused on the heat that rushed up my body to think about anything else. J’s mouth travelled down to my jaw, his harsh breaths tickling my skin and he nibbled at the sensitive area on my neck and I bit back a moan, letting my head roll back against the wall.

I heard footsteps, but they didn’t register in my mind. I moved my head upright and J’s lips sought my again, stealing my breath away till I practically gasping under his mouth. Then there was another louder creak and my eyes lazily drifted past J, over his shoulder, to see Frost stood out of breath and rather scruffy by the bullet ridden door. I pulled back hastily from J’s mouth, blushing profusely at the situation we’d been found in. I heard a growl from the Joker, but I couldn’t look at him, still breathless and my cheeks were burning. Frost stood frozen in the middle of the floor, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but at us. He glanced around, his eyes lingering on the bodies still lying together on the floor.

J pushed off from the wall and turned to the head henchmen, his eyes dangerous. J stared at him for a few beats and there must have been a silent command in that look - a promise to deal with him later - then, without another word, he grabbed my hand and towed me after him out of the room, leaving Johnny to clean up duty.

J didn’t release me till we reached the car. I made no attempt to stop him, just allowing myself to be towed along, too surprised that he was holding my hand at all.

The drive was silent as well, J made no sound, his eyes hard and cold, looking anywhere but at me. It was only once we pulled back into the garage at the mansion that he acknowledged my existence again. He at my passenger side door before I had even unfolded myself from the car. He caught my shoulders as I stood up, immediately pushing me backward into the car and pinning me there, his lips finding mine again. “I thought about this the whole way here.” He growled against my lips, he tugged me closer, his body pressing up against mine. His grip was tight on my body, but I didn’t care, in that moment I didn’t want him to let go, the heat I had felt burning back at the warehouse was quickly reignited. I didn’t want to think about what had gone in the warehouse other than the kiss. I knew I should hate J, not want to be anywhere near him, but his lips and hands were quickly making that very hard to remember.

“It’s time to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” Joker growled in my ear. I didn’t protest. I didn’t say anything. J seemed to take that as enough and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his arms.

tags: @6fish6 @carouselcurls @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @toxic-ink @blondieinthecity @cybergingersalad @viraldragonrider @ohmystarscam @nattalie-z

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 48

Hi guys! Sorry about the delay with this part - its taken a while to figure this chapter out and exactly what was going to happen!

(I still have no idea what I'm doing - so bare with me and I'm sorry if this story isn't really flowing very well, I'm feeling a bit lost with it now haha)

Hope you enjoy anyway!

As always if you want to be tagged let me know, and if you have any requests you'd like me to have a go at (for any fandom) don't hesitate to message me! :D

MASTERLIST

The rest of the day dragged – the worry of the evening heavy on my mind. I tried to occupy myself as usual but I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything, my mind too busy worrying about what the Joker would possibly want from at the end of all of this. It was a complete waste of time and worrying, as I’d never know the answer, but I couldn’t stop myself.

As the evening finally began to fall, I found myself once more in the small front room of the mansion, tapping mindlessly on the piano keys in an attempt to occupy my mind away from the possible outcomes of this evening – though I was wholly unsuccessful.

I was now trying to ignore the world around me as I sat on the little stool, playing a small childish tune as the darkness engulfed the room around me. I had no care for what I was doing – my mind blissfully unthinking as I focused on which key to press. The tune was simple and basic – one that was taught to children when they first learn to play, something they’d think was amazing and complex when they first tried. The tune had a high pitch so my hand remained at the top keys, flowing smoothly without much thought until I finally pressed the last note, letting it hand in the air a bit.

Suddenly a slow clap broke out from behind me and I practically jumped off the stool in surprise. “Jesus!” I couldn’t help myself crying as I spun around to face the noise to find none other than the Joker sat in one of the armchairs by the unlit fire, a tumbler of amber liquid by his side. He looked handsome and dangerous in a black shirt, his chest exposed as usual and the dark material only accenting how pale his skin was.

He stopped clapping, “No, doll, just me.” He grinned widely, “Though, I do consider myself god’s only child.” He teased.

“Don’t you ever knock!” I gasped, still feeling the after effects of my minor heart attack.

“Last time I check, doll,” He sneered, reaching for his drink, “this was still my house.” He said, taking a sip from the glass. His tone was relatively light, but I could hear the danger in his words which warned me not to think about telling him what to do.

I realised my mistake and bit back my retort quickly before I dug myself a hole I couldn’t get out of. J seemed content with this silence as an apology and the hardness in his eyes seemed to fade slightly.

“Get dressed doll,” He instructed, changing the topic, “We’re going out.”

I frowned, “Where?”

“That is the surprise.” He grinned widely, “Wouldn’t want to ruin that would we, doll?”

I eyed him warily, I didn’t like the sound of this. “Ok... Then what’s the dress code?” I asked carefully, watching him, trying to get any hint I could about where we were going.

“There are clothes laid out for you.” He dismissed, with a flick of his hand. “Be quick doll, we don’t want to be late.” He purred, there was something dark in his eyes and – though it didn’t feel aimed at me – it still made me uncomfortable. What was I getting myself into now? I hesitated a moment longer but then took my leave, heading quickly out the room - not liking having my back turned to him – and practically ran up the stairs. He still unsettled me and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was psychotic murder or because I had feelings for him.

Sure enough, when I reached the bedroom, a saw that a set of clothes had been laid neatly out on my side of the bed. I examined them, they didn’t look too bad this time – a pair of smart jeans and a stylish top - I might actually be happy to wear this tonight. Even the heels didn’t look too high – they were almost practical. Clearly wherever we were going was not as fancy as last night.

I got ready and went back downstairs, heading to the small room. I wasn’t surprised when I found the room empty - I had half expected the Joker to have vanished when I returned, having gotten bored or distracted and pawned me off to Frost to deal with as usual. I stood in the doorway looking at the empty seat and sighed heavily. What hope did I have with the guy – even if I wanted to – if I wasn’t good enough to keep his attention for more than a moment?

“Lose somebody, doll?”

I jumped again, spinning to face the Joker who stood behind me. I hadn’t expected him to be as close as he was and I ended up practically nose to nose with him, instinctively taking a step back from his intense gaze.

I thought I saw something flicker in the Joker’s eyes, but then he turned away and it was gone. “Come on, doll. Don’t want to be late.” He growled, heading down the hallway, deeper into the house. I followed him as headed to the end of the hallway, turning behind the stairs and taking the same door as I had originally arrived through with Frost.

We retraced the same route back to the large cavernous garage, and I hesitated in the doorway, taking the room in again. It was the same as the last time I saw it, the large collection of high performance cars still to my right, but the usual group of 4x4s on the left was missing, ony two remaining parked silently in the dark. I frowned at this, did his men have the night off? Or were they all out doing something? Was I part of that something?

Unlike me, the Joker hadn’t paused and instead had strode straight over to one of the sports cars – a bright purple Lamborghini. He must have hit a button because the lights flashed suddenly, lighting up the darkened space momentarily.

“Problem, doll?” He asked, turning to see me stood in the doorway. I wanted to say yes, I wanted to let out every question and worry that was running through my mind – where were we going? What were we doing? What was his plan, his end goal? Why wouldn’t he tell?

But I didn’t say a word, keeping my mouth shut and just hurrying after him instead. I paused at the side of the car, going to open the passenger door and watching in amazement when it didn’t open out like a normal car, but instead swung upwards. I marvelled at the car, I had never been this close to this much money – this thing was worth more than my old club – definitely more than my life.

I slipped in, awkward and embarrassed at being in the presence of such luxury – preferring to ride in the 4x4s which at least felt slightly normal, even if they were bulletproof with blacked out windows.

The Joker was already in the driver’s seat and starting the car before I had worked out how to close the door. The engine roared around us and I hadn’t put my seatbelt on before we roared out of the large garage and onto the quite suburban street.

The growl of the car felt out of place in the silent neighbourhood and I felt embarrassed to be part of the reason the peace was broken. I glanced over at the Joker who was staring hard out the windscreen, his claw clench as his mouth a straight line. He was either concentrating very hard on something or he was mad. I wasn’t sure which so I remained silent, gripping at my seat as we hurtled down the hill towards the city doing at least double the speed limit.

The road was empty this far out of the city at this time of night, but the roads became busier as we drew closer to the city centre where there were still a few late night commuters and the mass of taxi cabs transporting people to nightlife destinations. The Joker, however, didn’t let up on his speed, the only change to his driving was the reckless swerving he did to overtake and cut off other cars on the road. I gripped my seat tighter, wanting to shut my eyes but instead they just seemed to open wider as I watched car after car narrowly avoid us.

The Lamborghini took the manic driving in its stride, overtaking the other cars with ease, never losing grip on the road beneath us, and smoothly drifting around the junctions when J took the corners too fast.

The city blurred past my window, as we sped through the centre making it hard – along with the darkness of the night – to make out where we were or where we were going. I was pretty sure whatever we were doing was in the city and the more we drove the more I panicked – we must be close surely?

The few landmarks I could make out soon vanished and the streets quietened once more, few cars on the road and few people walking the pavements. It all made me nervous.

The number of streetlights began to reduce till we were basically driving through darkness, except for the small area of road dimly lit by the headlights in front of us. There were no lights on or in the buildings around us and, from the limited view I got from the glow of the headlights, the road was now lined with abandoned warehouses and boarded doorways. We must have travelled straight through the centre of town and were now on the outskirts by the docks.

If I hadn’t been panicking before, I was now. This was where everything dodgy happened, where secrets meetings took place and black-market deals happened. An area of Gotham I made it my mission to never enter out of respect for my life.

“W-Where are we going?” I croaked out, my panic getting the best of me and forcing me to say something. The Joker snapped his head over to look at me as though he’d forgotten I was in the car with him.

A slow, sinister grin spread across his features and he returned his eyes to the road again, “A little detour, doll.” He growled, “To have a little fun.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, not liking the sound of this at all.

“It means, doll. That we’re going to pay little Pengy a visit - though he won’t be home.”

That didn’t make any sense and the new information did nothing to stem my panic. I just wished he’d stop talking in riddles and hints and just tell me what was going on.

I didn’t bother to probe any further though, he clearly wasn’t up for giving me a straight answer. Clearly what we were doing had something to do with Penguin, yet Penguin wouldn’t actually be there?

I frowned to myself as different scenarios and ideas flew through my mind just like we flew through the maze of warehouses. Eventually, however, the Joker pulled outside one of the many identical warehouse and I felt my stomach drop through the floor. This was it.  

The Joker slid elegantly out of the low car and I hesitated a moment before I followed – knowing there was no way he would just let me stay in the car. I scrambled out, the Joker already waiting on the pavement, his eyes on a figure that was walking up the street toward us.

J hadn’t seemed to tense at the appearance of the figure, but I couldn’t determine who it was in the darkness, only that they carried a torch. The only light source near us was a singular streetlight on the opposite side of the street – and even this flickered unreliably – and so it was only as the man got within several feet of us, that the light caught his features and I recognised Frost.

I felt myself relax at the familiar face, “All set up inside, Boss.” Frost stated, stopping opposite us.

“Good job, Frosty.” J sneered, “Let’s go play with our little Penguin buddy.” He grinned wickedly, before he turned and headed down an alley behind us that ran down the side of two warehouses, leaving me stood on the pavement in the chilly air. I looked back across at frost in a silent question of whether I was supposed to follow.

He looked back at me before inclining his head and gesturing chivalrously for me to go first down the alley. I followed after the criminal clown, though he was already out of sight - having been swallowed up quickly by the surrounding night -  and I felt Frost bringing up the rear behind me, though he moved silently for a large man, his feet barely making a noise on the tarmac underfoot.

I wandered down the alley blinding, Frost’s torch making shining past my side my side to illuminate a small path for me. I didn’t catch sight of the Joker again but I followed the only route that was available to me – straight ahead. Eventually the alley opened up into a large tarmacked area around the back of the warehouse and I could hear the soft lapping of water beyond this and the wind was much stronger, pulling at my bare arms and making me shiver. Frost now aimed the torch light back at the building and onto a door which I began to heat to, carefully not to trip over unseen obstacles that lay on the floor.

I tried the door, half expecting it to be locked, but it swung open for me and I stepped inside, the corridor bitch black and even darker than the night outside. I hesitated in the doorway, J was still nowhere in sight, and no sound came from inside the warehouse. I felt Frost step up behind me and I stepped into the corridor, my hand on the walls either side of me so I didn’t hit anything. Eventually I felt a doorframe and realized I must have reached another door – this open already open – probably thanks to the Joker. I stepped through and I lost the walls either side of me as the room opened up, and Frost stepped past me, shining the torch light around the room showing just how huge the room was. The ceiling towered above so high the torch barely reached it, and I couldn’t see the back of the room, partially because of the distance, and partially because objects that blocked my view.

I stopped where I was, only a few steps into the room, unsure what on Earth was going on. I turned to the man now stood next to me. “Frost, what are we doing here?” I asked, my voice cracking from lack of use. I hoped if J wasn’t around, then Frost might be willing to tell me something.

“Business.” He answered as though that was all I needed to know. I wasn’t giving up that easily.

“What sort of business – where are we?” I persisted.

“This,” He gestured the torch light around the room again, “Is one of Penguin’s warehouses.” He told me. Shit.

“Why are we here?” I asked, almost desperate now. This whole thing was going to get me killed – you couldn’t just walk into a crime lords warehouse and expect to leave with your life.

Frost shrugged again in the limited light, “Boss wants to send a message.”

I gulped, that sounded ominous. “Why am I here?” I asked, confused – surely, I was no use in this situation. A hindrance at best.

Frost hesitated again, and I could see he really didn’t want to answer this question. But he was stuck with me now - J having long left us by the looks of things – and I wasn’t going to drop it if I knew he knew.

“Frost.” I persisted, almost whining. I heard him sigh in the dark.

“Boss has been muttering something about bringing you to one of these things for a while now – I don’t know why,” He defended quickly, “I suggested this one because I thought it was the safest – most guaranteed success – but J agreed far too quickly for my liking.” I scowled at him through the darkness, not liking the idea that I had people arranging my fate behind my back.

We stood in silence for a while then as I processed the fact that the Joker somehow thought it worthwhile for me to come along and be stuck in a freezing cold warehouse in the middle of the night whilst he did god knows what in an attempt to piss off the Penguin.

I was annoyed. I was pissed. But I was also resigned to the fact that I was here now. “So, what are we doing?” I asked – might as well play along if I was stuck here anyway – plus my intrigue was getting the better of me.

Frost looked over, shocked at my sudden change of heart. “What?” I retorted, putting my hands on my hips, “It is Penguin after all – he does technically deserve it.” I pointed out. I couldn’t tell if Frost now looked shocked or impressed – maybe it was both.

He seemed to shake himself out of it though, “We’re on lookout out duty.” He explained. I raised an eyebrow at this – though I doubted Frost could see it in the dark – it sounded so cliché, like it was out of an old crime movie. “We shouldn’t have to do much,” Frost continued, “there are a few guys inside keeping watch and I have a large perimeter around the area to alert me if any of Penguins men shows up.”

“So, you’re telling me they just leave this warehouse empty every night?” I asked in disbelief, “There can’t be anything that important in it then?”

“Big guys with guns aren’t the only security that exists, [Y/N],” He pointed out, as though insulted for Penguin that I would suggest such a thing, “- most of us rely on technology now. Plus, men just make it obvious that there is something worth stealing.

“As for the cameras and alarms,” He continued, “– I’ve had men working on it. All are disabled for a small window tonight for the Boss to do what he needs to do.”

I nodded along. Sounded like it made sense – though I doubt I’d be able to see even the hugest flaw in a plan.

We fell back into silence for a moment until a loud crackling noise broke the quiet and echoed around the high-roofed room, making me jump about a foot in the air. I glanced around the room frantically trying to find where it was coming from, my heart beating erratically, panicking that someone had got through Frost’s defenses. The source of the noise became apparent when Frost, reached for his side and unclipped the crackling radio from his belt.

Frost pressed the ‘talk’ button and spoke into the device, “What is it?” Asked Frost, clearly annoyed at the loud, intrusive noise.

A crackle came back and I thought I could hear a voice but it was broken up the loud hissing and white noise.

“This bloody place is blocking the signal.” Frost muttered to himself, dropping the radio to his side and turning to me. “Sorry, [Y/N}, I need to head back outside to deal with this. Stay here.” He instructed. Without waiting to hear a response he turned and began to head back where the door had been. He suddenly paused, turning back, to me, “Take this,” He said, handing me the torch. I was about to protest, but he interrupted me, “Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” He turned his attention to his jacket pocket and withdrew something, also handing it over to me, “You might need this as well.” He said and I shone the torch onto his hand. It was my handgun.

“How long have you had this?” I demanded in surprise, eyeing the weapon. Someone must have gone back to my apartment to get this from where I stored it in my desk drawer – they would have had to have searched the entire my entire flat to find it!

“A while.” He admitted, “Look, you shouldn’t need it – but, just in case.” I took it from him reluctantly and gripped it tightly, hoping he was right and that I wouldn’t need to use it.

Content that I had everything I needed, Frost nodded at me and turned once more, disappearing out the door and back down the dark corridor, I watched him go with the beam of the torch on his back.

And so, I was left in the cavernous, pitch black room, the autumn night air whistling through the room and around my lone figure. I took comfort in the small dim circle of light at my feet provided by the torch, and the weight of my little gun in my other hand at my side.

I wasn’t sure how long I waited for Frost to return, but it felt like forever, especially now the coldness was getting to me and chilling my bones. I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, tucking my gun into the crook of my elbow and keeping my torch pointed out in front of me.

Soon the cold became too much, and my nerves made me restless, so I began to pace, only a few steps back and forth to start with, but soon I gained confidence and began to wander the huge warehouse. From what I could gather from my small patch of light, the room was basically empty except for the occasional pile of rates, boxes and stacked old furniture.

I almost intrigued what this warehouse was used for – the fact that it was on the docks made me think the obvious use for it would be for transport. I’d heard that the police believed Penguin to be one of the main ring leaders of the trade of stolen goods – that criminals sought him out when they wanted to shift their loot without anyone tracing it back to them. The police had never been able to charge him for it, because they never managed to collect enough proof to prove it. Looking around the large empty room, I could see now why – there was nothing here.

Eventually I reached the other side of the room and my torch fell on several doors in the wall that must lead deeper into the warehouse. If what Frost said was true, there shouldn’t be any problem with me continuing to explore – there shouldn’t be anyone else here, but J and maybe a few of his men. Besides – Frost had clearly got caught up in something else so I might as well entertain myself whilst I waited – if only to stop myself freezing to death – it might be warmer back there after all.

I examined the doors before choosing the one on the far right. I pulled at, then pushed it, but no use. It was locked. I frowned in annoyance but moved to the next one, trying it and was almost surprised when this one swung open. I shrugged to myself – I guessed this one would do -  and so I headed inside.

The door was heavy and it swung closed behind me, the sudden thud making me jump slightly. Immediately though, I felt warmer thanks to the closer walls and the reduced airflow. I could feel my heart beating quickly, the silence and poor field of vision keeping me on edge, even though I tried to convince myself that there was nothing waiting for me in the darkness ahead.

I steeled myself and continued down the corridor until some concrete stairs which appeared to have a strip of carpet down the center. It just felt typical of Penguin – try to make everything look luxurious, even concrete. I climbed the stairs none the less, trying to remind myself I was the only one here. At the top of the stairs I reached a hallway that ran from left to right. I paused - wondering which way to go - when I heard a thudding noise from my right. To me it sounded almost like someone was hitting something else. Then I heard it – a high pitch, if slightly pained, laugh echoing down the corridor. I froze instantly. I guess I had found the Joker.

Clearly, he was busy doing something – something I probably, once again, didn’t want to know about or be a part of. I went to turn around and head back down the stairs, but then the noise renewed and the laughter sounded again. I froze once more. The laugh struck me as wrong. It was different to the many times I’d heard it before, more forced, more echoing. It hid something.

I couldn’t help myself, I headed down the hall in the direction I had heard the sound, keeping my feet light on the wooden floors beneath me - though they still creaked under my weight causing me to freeze in place each time, though I saw no other movement in the dark corridor.

The noise got louder as I carried on down the hall till I saw a door outlined with light in the darkness. I shut off my torch, tucking it into my jean pocket and moved towards the door outline, pressing myself up against the wall to the left of it. The noise was undeniably coming from behind the door, the thudding clear through the thin door, each of the Joker’s laughs sounding shaky and out of breath straight after each thumping noise.

The Joker wasn’t giving the punches. He was taking them.

That wasn’t right, the only people in here should be Joker’s men.

I had to do something, but I didn’t know what. I crouched down and reached for the door knob on the other side of the door to me, turning it silently and ever so slightly pushing the door open giving me a tiny window into the room.

I couldn’t see anything expect a small strip of the room and what looked like a part of a chair, but the sound reached me clearer now.

“Truss him up, lads.” Gave a familiar squawk that sounded like it was right next to me. I jumped but, upon darting my gaze around frantically, I soon realized the voice had come through the thin wall next to me. “Don’t be gentle.” Added Penguin and I could almost hear the sinister grin in his voice as he enjoyed the show. Just then I caught movement in my small crack in the doorway, two men came in and out of view as they move, appearing to me dragging a body across the room, quiet pathetic giggles bubbling up from the limp figure. I recognized the bright green hair immediately as they towed the body - though it was no longer slicked back into its usual neat style - instead it looked knotted and messy, strands falling forward over his face which I couldn’t see.

The two men appeared to throw J onto the chair at the edge of my view, and - though I couldn’t see most of him - I saw his arm fall limp by his side and I had to stop myself from gasping. The shirt sleeve was rolled up to his elbow and his usual pale lower arm was covered in red lashes, smudges of blood smeared across the skin.

The men grabbed at him, heaving him so he sat up straighter and I shifted in my crouch position to try and see J better. I could see his face now and this time I had to cover my mouth to stop the cry from my lips. His face was decorated with different shades of bruising, one of his eyes swollen and blood ran down his chin from his nose and busted lip. His shirt was torn and filthy, every inch of skin I could see was beaten and discolored just like his face and arm and there were bruises around his throat - as though a rope-like device had been pulled tight around his neck.

He didn’t bother to struggle against their man handling, letting them do what they wanted with protest. I returned my gaze to his face again where he had a permanent grin stretched across his face as he continued to chuckle quietly to himself even though he didn’t seem able to keep his head up anymore.

The image of him slumped there, battered and abused pained my chest, pulling painfully at my heart.

Some people might have thought he deserved – would have turned and left him there to suffer like he, himself had done many times before – but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

 tags: @6fish6 @carouselcurls @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @toxic-ink @blondieinthecity @cybergingersalad @viraldragonrider @ohmystarscam @nattalie-z

(sorry if you asked to be tagged and I've forgotten to! Just send me a message telling me I'm a fool and I'll make sure to include you!

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Deadly Voice Part 47

Hi guys!

Sorry it's taken so long for me to get this out but I had a bit of writer's block on this particular story and I've lost my inspiration and enthusiasm for it a bit (probably because I feel I've lost the Joker's real personality a bit now) - but I was not going to give up on the story - especially as I think there's only 2-3 more parts left of this series now!

So here it is - it took a while and I've just spent the last 3ish hours trying to work out all the kinks so I apologise if it's not the best piece! :S

Enjoy anyway and thank you to everyone who continues to support my writing! You guys mean the world to me!

 MASTERLIST

I woke to an empty bed next to me again. It didn’t surprise me, use to it by now and my head too preoccupied by the events of last night that came rushing back to me. I closed my eyes tightly against the replay, the regret achingly painful.

I had been an idiot. An absolute idiot.

What had I been thinking?! Why didn’t I walk away when I’d seen Penguin? That alone should have triggered enough in me to cause me to run screaming from the room.

Even after that, why hadn’t I left when the Joker had been in a bad mood? When he’d completely ignored me and clearly shown he hadn’t wanted me there with him – any logical person would have taken this as enough and just up and left – why had I stayed?

I guess I knew though. I’d admitted it to myself several times before now.

I liked the damn clown.

And in that moment, when I had seen Penguin sat on that sofa, puffed up like the proud bird he was, that sickening smile on his face, I had been sharply reminded of what I had been through before - that damn contract. And I was suddenly aware that snarling green haired man opposite him had been the one to get me out of it without – it seemed so far –  asking anything in return.

I guess something in my heart went out to him in that moment, contrary to the constant reminder I chanted almost hourly that this man was in fact a villain, a murderer, and a lunatic. Even with that thought still firmly in my mind I couldn’t walk away from him in that moment.

But then I had stepped in it. Whilst trying to break through his sullen mood I had nearly slipped my control on my ‘Bobby’ half, nearly confessing to the rage I still felt at Penguin. I couldn’t help it – that bird-like man had caused my temper flare. I’d hoped that Joker was still ignoring me at that point, but – of course – he’d picked up on it immediately and questioned me over it, causing me to fall back to my old, nervy self, and barely managing to string a sentence together in my embarrassment I refused to admit my lack of control to the Joker - God knows what he’d do with that information.

But - thanks to the abrupt return of my timid, introverted self - I then could not find the bravery within myself to turn down the flow of drinks that followed after that.

And then we’d danced. And then I’d smiled. No. I hadn’t smiled. I had grinned – beamed - even giggled.

I hadn’t giggled since I was a little girl.

Why?!

Pointless question. I knew the answer. It had been the happiest I had felt in a long time.

The cold truth this morning though, was the fact it was probably all a lie.

True, last night I had felt special for a moment - for a silly drunken moment. I had felt like the Joker had actually wanted to dance with me – like he actually wanted to be around me and might have even enjoyed it himself for a moment.

But now I could see that wasn’t possible.

I opened my eyes so that I now stared up at the ceiling, the room already bathed in daylight, only muted slightly by the still-drawn curtains. I had questioned how he would make me smile, but now I knew.

I hadn’t expected him to be so cruel, and angry tears burned in the eyes. But he was - after all - the Joker. He could make anyone believe anything - a master manipulator and player of the game – and I should be angry at myself for thinking anything more of him. How could I have even let myself think for a moment that it might have been true? But, though I could blame him for the waves of shame that now rolled over me as I lay in the bed – as he was the one who had manipulated these feelings in me – it was really my own stupidity that had led me astray – why wouldn’t I think the Joker would sink to such tactics as making me fall for him to win? It wasn’t like the man had morals.

And I knew it was true. I had fallen for him. Properly. Completely. Because, even now when I should hate him with every inch of my body, I could only hate myself. Something in me stopped me from blaming him. Told me it wasn’t his fault. That it wasn’t right to be mad at him.

I let out a long, loud groan, placing my hands over my eyes and scrubbing vigorously at my face before rolling onto my side.

I was ridiculous.

I removed my hands from my face, my vision focusing once more on the empty bed across from me. This too, only brought back the painfully mortifying memory of late last night and I let out another pathetic groan, recalling how I had caved into my urges and actually curled into him – it had been too tempting an offer last night in my drunken naivety  – when I didn’t want the night or that blissful feeling of happiness to end.

Now it was a foolish error on my part and I screwed my eyes tighter against the pain in my chest, causing the hot tears to roll down my face.

I then lay there for a while, my head buried into the pillow as I tried to calm myself a bit. But eventually I knew I couldn’t put it off much longer. I couldn’t deny that the Joker had ‘won’ our bet and I now had to face what happened next – whatever that was.

I must admit I was surprised he hadn’t hung around this morning to gloat at me and claim whatever it was that he wanted. I shifted in the bed so I faced the clock and suddenly realised the time. It was almost midday. I shouldn’t really be surprised thought -that’s what alcohol did to me. I rarely got hungover, but I always slept late the next day and chances were, I’d be a bit light headed for a bit.

I pushed myself so I sat upright in the bed, correct in my previous assumption when I felt my head spin. I hung my head for a moment, trying to steady myself once more. I had options – true - but none of them appealed to me. I could stay here all day – hiding from the inevitable. I could try to run - but he was bound to catch up to me and then the consequences would probably be even worse. Or, I could just face the music and go and find him.

I grimaced at my lap as I let my head hang, the wooziness subsiding. I tried to work through things in my head, searching for any loopholes I could find in the agreement we had made.

Eventually I pushed myself out of bed, getting dressed slowly to prolong the confrontation and buy me time to find a way out of this. However, all too soon I was heading to the block, my spirits low and my heart panicky.

I stopped outside the heavy dark wood door that led to the Joker’s office. In that moment I hated myself. I hated that, though the fate of my own life hung with the man behind the door I still really wanted to see him again, a part of me couldn’t wait to open the door and see that pale face, that slicked back green hair, that signature bloody smile. There was something about him that continued to drag me back, something that made me want to be around him – even when he’d played and hurt me.

I paused, taking a deep breath and steeling myself, before I knocked lightly on the door and, without waiting for a response, pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it.

I slipped into the room quietly, carefully closing the solid door behind me so it only made a soft thud as it fell back into the frame.

The room was quite dark and I had to wait for my eyes to adjust before I could take in my surroundings. It has hard to make out the colour of the walls as shadows lurked at the sides of the room, but the floor was a plush carpet under my shoes. On the opposite wall to me, heavy-looking curtains covered the large windows, the only light from them coming from a small slit down the middle of the window. The main light source came from a lamp sat on the huge wooden desk directly across the room from me. Behind this desk, the Joker sat in a dark red shirt - the top buttons undone as usual - pouring over numerous papers spread out over the table top.

“Morning, doll.” He greeted, disinterested and not moving his gaze from the papers in front of him. I didn’t say anything, I just stood there questioning every reason I had for being in here. The whole room was intimidating, let alone the man sat before me. I was feeling increasingly embarrassed again.

“Doll?” He inquired at my silence, glancing up from his work with a raised invisible eyebrow. I still didn’t say anything, remaining in place and unable to make eye contact, my gaze focused on the bottom of the desk where it sunk into the thick, golden carpet. At my lack of response, J straightened up, abandoning his work and looking at me properly.

"Clown got your tongue?” He teased, and I finally looked up at him, his eyes intense even across the large distance between us, the jesting not meeting his eyes or his mouth his remained in a frown.

He must have seen something in my eyes – perhaps the hopelessness I felt – because I thought I saw something flicker in his blue eyes when I met their gaze.

“You said it last night.” I spoke finally, stepping into the room a bit further, the waver in my voice giving away the emotions I was trying to keep in check, but I was still determined to not look as weak as I felt. “You won.”

His face lit up with recognition. “You’re right, doll...” He drawled, a lazy smile appearing on his face, “I did.”

He didn’t say anything else, just looked at me, mischief shining in his eyes. I frowned at him, confused. Did he expect me to do something? Was he trying to mess with me even more?

But just like that, he turned back to his work, as though our conversation was over. I didn’t move – was that honestly all he was going to say to me? No explanation or even hint as to what he wanted? What was I supposed to do now?

I took a step forward, trying to subtly get his attention. He didn’t look up, still ignoring me. I cleared my throat slightly, though my nerves stopped me from making it very loud, but in it still felt like it resonated in the silence of the room. Still nothing. I shifted my feet impatiently.

“If you have something to say, doll…” The Joker warned, and I could almost hear the jaw clench in his voice as he spoke down at the papers, still refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Yes.” I declared, startled that I suddenly had his attention, even if that was what I had been trying to do. “I – uh – I want to know what happens now.” I stated, firmly, though the nerves in my voice was all too clear.

“Nothing.” He said, his face hidden from my view as he remained focused on his work.

“Nothing? What do you mean nothing?!” I demanded in surprise, causing him to shoot me a warning look, his eyes dark. I ignored him, “You’ve won!” I cried.

“It’s time then, doll,” He sneered, “To get a high score.”

I just stared blankly at him, “What?”

“That’s the whole point in a game isn’t doll?” He asked mockingly, baring his shining teeth at me, “It’s not just about winning – it’s about who gets the highest score overall.”

I was more than confused now. “Those things are mutually inclusive.” I pointed out, against my better judgement, “And besides, that only works if you’re playing against someone.” I grumbled.

“Are we not playing, doll?” He asked with a raised invisible brow.

“No.” I retorted sharply. “I don’t want to be a part of your messed-up games anymore! I only agreed to this on the off chance I got my life back! Now I’ve blown it all because you –“ I stopped mid-sentence. I could see he was intrigued now, but my mind was elsewhere. I’d suddenly realised something. “You cheated…” I muttered my eyes wide open in sudden realisation.

“Cheated?” repeated the Joker, with theatrical innocence, “You think I cheated, doll?”

“You promised not use sexual advances on me!” I exclaimed, my mind whirling, “And I class last night as a sexual advancement!” I said quickly, clinging to this little idea I had which might get me out of this, “I smiled – sure,” I admitted, “- but you cheated so it doesn’t count!”

The Joker’s eyes darkened, no smile on his face. He rose from his chair and stepped around his desk slowly but purposefully, “I think, doll,” he growled darkly, “that we need to define what a sexual advancement is.” He began to move towards me with lithe, prowl-like movements.

I gulped and everything in me told me to turn tail and run the opposite direction, but I was stuck in place by his eyes again – the danger clear in them, despite the main light now behind him and most of his face in shadow. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” I protested quickly, managing to move a step back.

“No, no.” He tutted, his voice low but smooth, “We don’t want any more confusions, do we? He purred, a slow, sinister smile spreading across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

He was in front of me now, looking down at me hungrily. “Now, doll.” He purred, “Is this a sexual advancement?” He was only about a foot away from me and I could already feel my throat drying up. “I suppose not.” I croaked about, determined to remain in control and steeling against his behaviour, but a part of me was screaming for him to come closer, for it to be like last night.

His hands suddenly grabbed at my hips, “What about this?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with me.

“Definitely.” I said, swallowing when I felt his touch prickle my skin, heat seeping out from his palms and warming my entire body, feeling the redness in my cheeks.

He pulled me sharply, taking me by surprise and unbalancing me so I was forced to step forward, flinging my arms out and catching myself on his chest, my body now pressed up against him.

“Now?” He asked, his face so close he breath brushed against my face.

“Yes.” I croaked out. Trying to ignore the feeling of every inch of his body pressed against mine. I had entered this room hating him and cursing his name for his tricks and games, but now I was being sharply reminded of why I had so easily fallen for him when my defences were down last night.

His hands, still at my hips, began to move so I shifted where I stood, rubbing against him, the feeling causing every inch of me to burn and I had to fight back a moan, my fingers instinctively tightening on his chest so I gripped at his shirt. I could feel the muscles under my hands tense and Joker dipped his head toward mine as he leant towards me and I felt his breath travel across my cheek and down the side of my face, feeling a sharp pain as he nibbled at my earlobe, causing my pulse to pound against my skin.

“And this?” He purred seductively into my ear.

What was he asking again?

“Umhum.” I managed, swallowing thickly. Great I was losing the ability to form words now. It only just occurred to me that I wasn’t breathing and I quickly took a deep breath. He stilled my hips, now running his hands up my body, causing every nerve in my body to tingle. I didn’t move, afraid he might do something if I did, but also afraid he might stop.

He pulled his head back, away from my ear, as his hands travelled to my neck, brushing the sensitive skin forcing me to hold back shivers even as my body burned. His left hand then wrapped around my neck, gripping, but not hard enough to cut off any air to my lungs. His other hand continued to roam, moving to my cheek and running along my face until he reached my lips, the cool, pale fingers, tracing them gently. His eyes were focused solely on his task and I watched him in rapture, unaware of anything else in that moment except his stormy eyes and the rich scent that filled my throat and tasted of smoke and cologne.

I made the most of our close proximity, taking the time to study every inch of his face, my eyes falling on his own lips which were partly slightly where his harsh breaths escaped and cooled my own damp lips. I was suddenly acutely aware that it would only take a slight head tilt from either once of us for our mouths to meet. I was tempted - so tempted.

Suddenly his gaze flickered to mine, the movement catching the corner of my eye and I lifted my gaze to his, knowing from his look that he knew exactly what I was thinking. His eyes flickered back to my mouth and I thought he was going to do it then – to close the gap between the two of us. He inched closer and I closed my eyes, feeling his lips only millimetres from my own.

“I win, doll.” He purred against my lips.

It took a while for the words to perforated my fogged mind but then my eyes shot wide open, every previous sensation in my body plummeting in realisation. I finally dropped my hands from his chest and I tried to pull back, panicked by what he said, but he gripped my throat tighter, holding me fast where I was. What did he mean he won? How? I tried to look anywhere but in his eyes, humiliated once more that not only had he seemed to have outsmarted me, but he’d easily turned me into a weak, fluster fool and I had no alcohol to blame it on this time.

His grip tightened even more and I gasped as my breathing became restricted. I brought my hands up to my neck, grabbing hopelessly at his fingers to try to alleviate the constriction, finally looking up at him.

The minute I made contact with his eyes once again, he released some of the pressure on my neck, though I didn’t drop my hands, just in case.

I watched him, frightened what he’d do next – after all, I was completely at his mercy in this position. But he looked calm, calculating, though I thought I could still see a trace of the hunger in his eyes that showed he had been a little effected by the previous moment between us.

“If I remember correctly, doll.” The Joker sneered down at me, still helpless in his grip. “I asked you to dance…” he drawled. “And you accepted.” I didn’t say anything, wondering where he was going with this, but too concerned that he might snap at any moment and continue to throttle me.

“There was no ‘toying’, doll,” he jeered, “No ‘playing’.” A knowing, malicious grin spread across his face, and he leant forward, closing the distance between us once again, “You wanted it.” He purred seductively, his faces centimetres from mine, “I win.”

I couldn’t think straight. All that ran through my mind was a series of curse words, my mind too panicky to actually think straight. Focus. There had to be a way around this – something to prove he’d somehow cheated.

Nothing. I couldn’t think of anything. I had to face the fact. He hadn’t cheated. He had won fair and square. I had been foolish enough to let my guard down not once, but twice now, and I had to pay for it.

The Joker must have read the defeat in my eyes because he finally released my throat.

As soon as I was released I stepped back, rubbing at the tender skin on my neck where I was sure I’d get a bruise.

The question now was. What did the man who had the power to get anything, want from me?

The Joker was watching me with hard eyes, as I tried to plan multiple scenarios that could now happen and what on earth he could possibly want from me. “You look like you’re thinking too hard, doll.” He teased, but his face was serious.

I hesitated before I spoke, “I – I’m just trying to figure you out.” I admitted.

He let out a sharp bark of laughter, a knowing smirk on his face, “Don’t do that, kitten - too many people have tried already,” He said, “And they end up more insane than me!” He exclaimed wildly, his eyes flashing.

I watched him warily, but I believed him – his mind was not a rabbit hole I wanted to fall down.

He grinned as I conceded to this, turning back to his desk.

“So, what happens now then?” I called to his back in a moment of bravery, my voice raspy from the bruising.

He paused for a moment. “As I said, doll,” He began, sitting himself back down at his desk, facing me, “it’s time to get a high score.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I asked, impatiently, feeling braver now he was on the opposite side of the room again.

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” He told me ignoring my last comment, his head already back down and focused on the papers still on his desk.

I scowled at him, about to protest, but I knew that it would be a lost cause and I didn’t want to push my luck - my throat painful enough for one day.

I showed myself out of the office, pausing in the corridor when the door closed behind me.

I honestly had no idea what was going on anymore. Had he won? Yes – that was clear to me now. And yet he wasn’t claiming on the bet? Why not? Was that what was happening tonight?

But then, what did he mean by getting a high score? Was he intending to keep trying to make me smile anyway? But he’d already done that once - what was the point?

I jumped when three henchmen suddenly appeared at the bottom of the staircase in front of me, all three of them covered in a chalky dust and a two of them carrying documents of some sort. They jogged up them remaining steps and I side stepped them quickly before they bowled me over in their attempt to reach the office door. I frowned at them in confusion, wondering what they were up to, but then I thought better – bound to be some sort of criminal act I didn’t want to know about – and I began to move off down the hallway. A gun shot sounded behind me and I spun around facing back down the corridor. Nothing. No movement. It must have come from the Joker’s office. I gulped, thankful I wasn’t in there anymore, before I turned back around and continued along the hallway – certain I didn’t want to get involved.

What on earth was I supposed to do now?

tags: @6fish6 @carouselcurls @theartistdetective @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @toxic-ink @blondieinthecity @cybergingersalad @viraldragonrider

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 38

Here’s the next part! I’ve messed around with and have changed it around quite a bit so if any bits don’t really make sense it’s because of that and my poor editing!

Hope you enjoy anyway!

Masterlist

I hid in my office for most of the night – the club didn’t really need me during opening hours, it practically ran itself, everyone else knew what they should be doing. I only left the safety of my room when the club had closed in the early hours and I knew I had a rehearsal to go through before we could all call it a night.

I moved silently around the back of house, grateful when I found all the corridors empty - the staff kept out of my way and I wasn’t in the mood to appear happy and approachable right now.

I was glad I didn’t have to dress up for rehearsals - the last thing I wanted to do was force myself into one of the snug cocktail dress and fiddle for hours on my hair. Instead I stayed in my soft cotton black trousers – professional, but not uncomfortable – and my loose pale green blouse, the top two button undone. As I headed backstage I tied my hair up into a scruffy bun, not bothering to catch all the loose strands I missed, allowing them to hang lazily around my face. I frowned when I realised that the wings of the stage were also empty. Where were the technical team? Maybe they were on the other side of the stage, or maybe they’d gone to help with the lights again.

However, I couldn’t help but notice that - although most had promised to stay behind - the club felt particularly empty of staff at the moment. I didn’t linger on the thought too much; I’m sure they all had their reasons to leave early – probably just excuses to escape my presence.

The band that had been rehearsing slipped off the stage as I moved to the steps. When they caught sight of me they dropped their eyes hurrying past me, sweat beading at their foreheads. They might not be too comfortable around me, but they weren’t usually that anxious to get away. I watched their departing backs in confusion before pushing it aside as I walked up the steps. As I crossed to centre stage my supporting band came on from the other side, none of them meeting my eyes, all looking very nervous – worse than when we performed live. I frowned at them, but none of them glanced up to me to see my questioning look.

I decided I’d ask them later.

I faced out to the ‘crowd’ – not that I could see anything though thanks to the bright lights aimed at me from the rafters. I tried to keep my eyes relatively low to stop being blinded, but a movement caught my eye and I looked up, shielding my eyes against the glare from the spotlight above me. Bobby was frantically jumping up and down behind the bar waving like someone signalling a SOS. Once she realised my eyes were on her she stopped prancing around so much and flung her arms up, frantically pointing to my right at the few tables that lined the wall.

I squinted in the general direction she indicated but struggled to see anything beyond the wall of light shining on my face. I frowned back at her in puzzlement and she continued her little charade, jabbing wildly, but the lighting on me was too intense and all the darkness beyond the stage merged into one so I couldn’t make anything out clearly. Was it someone left behind that was refusing to leave? A drunk maybe? Surely the bouncer could sort that out? Or had he already left? Wasn’t it his job to check the place over first? Was it a staff member doing something they shouldn’t? Did anyone really have the guts to do that in this place? Or was Bobby just having a laugh with me?

Whatever it was, I’d sort it later. I didn’t need to worry about it right now, besides my rehearsal would be short, I’m sure it could wait.

So I moved my gaze off Bobby stepping up to the microphone stand, adjusting it back to my slightly shorter stature than the guy previously. I glanced behind me at the band, now set up and ready. I gave a nod to a few that were looking at me. The drum beat started up behind me.

I sang a couple of songs, every now and then looking at Bobby at the back of room opposite me. Whenever she caught my eye in return she would try the same signing but still to no luck, the visibility of the rest of the club still hadn’t improved. Eventually she gave up and focused on cleaning up the remnants of the night. At least she was still managing to focus on her job – that was most important thing right now.

I turned to my band before my last song. “Guy’s I’m changing it up a bit tonight. Can we do this one for the last song?” I asked politely handing them a sheet of songs and pointing at the one I wanted. I didn’t really need to rehearse it, and I didn’t really plan to use it in many of my acts, but I could still feel the tension of my talk with the Penguin in my body and sometimes I just needed the right song to release those emotions. I felt this suited the occasion and maybe, just maybe, it might make me feel better.

The glanced at each other nervously, not happy about the last minute change, but I could see they also didn’t want to fight me about this. Eventually they reluctantly nodded and I tried to give them a grateful smile in thanks but they had already turned away from me, dismissing me back to my place.

Whatever. I wasn’t in the mood for their attitude.

I took a deep breathe.

“It’s like you’re a drug…” I began gently, the piano joining in softly after my first line.

It’s like you’re a demon I can’t face down,

It’s like I’m stuck…

It’s like I’m running from you all the time,

And I know I let you have all the power,

It’s like the only company I seek is misery all around…”

I sang gently, not looking out, my eyes closed.

“…And I realize I’m never gonna quit you over time!” The drums kicked in behind me, and I felt adrenaline rush through me, the music taking over.

“It’s like I can’t breathe!

It’s like I can’t see anything,

Nothing but you,

I’m addicted to you!

It’s like I can’t think!

Without you interrupting me,

In my thoughts, in my dreams,

You’ve taken over me!

It’s like I’m not me…

It’s like I’m not me…”

I poured my soul into that performance, the lyrics just holding too much truth for me at the moment. I could feel the crashing drums running through me, pushing me further as I sang till I was nearly shouting.

“It’s like I’m not me…” I finished off quietly, head down, facing the floor as the last note from the guitar hovered in the air. I didn’t move from my finished position immediately, as I could feel my emotions crashing around me and I didn’t feel fully in control.

Eventually I felt collected enough to straighten up and I glanced behind me, about to compliment my band, only to find the stage empty. Why was everyone in such as rush today? I scowled at how unprofessional they were being – was all of this just because they had to work for me? Maybe I ought to hire in some people with more guts.

Suddenly a slow exaggerated clapping came from directly in front of me. I span around, my immediate thought was Bobby messing around and I shielding my eyes with my hand to see her, only to have my heart drop through my stomach.

The Joker was walking slowly toward me, clapping. He was dressed in a black shirt and black trousers so he almost blended with the darkness around him. It contrasted with his alabaster skin which was illuminated in the harsh artificial light above us. His usual devilish smile stretched across his face and I scowled at him as he approached, at least now I knew why everyone had done a runner, and what Bobby had been waving about.

“Bravo, Doll!” He applauded stopping a few foot away from the stage, his eyes on me. “And might I add you look particularly stunning tonight!” He grinned eyeing my unimpressive outfit up and down with a gleam in his eye.

I stayed where I was, gripping the microphone stand tightly as if it was my only lifeline. “What do you want?” I snarled at him, maybe he didn’t realise how bad his timing was.

He looked dramatically offended at my tone, “Why, I’m just here to check on my club!” He said, placing a hand to his chest and pouting at me with his deep red lips. I eyed him his suspiciously, not believing for a second that was what he was truly here for, or at least not the only thing – if it was then why not send a henchman?

“Has anyone ever told you you’re too sceptical?” He jested.

“Give me a reason not to be.” I spat before turning my back to him and moving the microphone and stand to the backstage, disappearing behind the curtains. Conversation over, he can leave now. I heard a growl behind me at my insolence but that didn’t stop me striding backstage. I turned around to collect the rest of my things when I came face to face with the Joker only a couple of inches away, his hand immediately grabbing at my waist and pinning my body against his. I let out a gasp at the impact and the sudden closeness.

His snarl melted away when he looked my fearful face, leaving a scowl of annoyance, “See doll, I don’t get you.” He told me, “I give you a nice job, good money, even leave you alone for a while, yet I’ve still not seen a genuine smile grace those delicate lips of yours…” he purred, his eyes now falling hungrily to my mouth, the sudden change of attention both frightening and exciting me. I licked my lips self-consciously and he let out a low rumbling growl before he snapped his eyes back to mine. “Why can’t you smile?” He breathed, and I thought I heard vulnerability in his voice for the first time.

“Why do I have to smile?” I asked, genuinely intrigued but his reaction.

With my words however his face snapped shut again, his cold, stony expression back in place and his hand tightened once more - almost painfully - on my hips. “Because doll, I’ve seen the madness that can brighten your eyes…” His eyes lightened slightly, “...and it’s truly beautiful.” His eyes slipped from mine and roamed my face. He dropped a hand from my waist, “I can only imagine what a simple smile would look like…” he purred, drawing his finger along my lips and cheeks in an imaginary grin to match his own.

I felt myself blushing hotly under his touch and I couldn’t look at his eyes anymore, instead keeping my gaze glued to his lips as my skin tingled from his touch. He lifted his finger away from my lips           and I could feel his eyes dancing around my face, though I still refused to look up. I felt his hand moved to the side of my face, brushing some of the loose strands of hair behind my ear. I shuddered at the feeling and felt myself all relax into the moment, it felt good to be held and comforted; I almost forgot who I was with.

“But you see, doll, you’re madness doesn’t hang around.” The Joker said lowly, then he suddenly grabbed my chin, pulling my face up so my eyes had to meet his, forcing my neck into an uncomfortable angle. “It flashes through you burning and engulfing everything,” He said fiercely, clenching his teeth and tightened his grip. I flinched at the pain, scrunching my eyes closed as his fingers dug into skin. He paused, watching me struggle under his grip, his breath harsh above me.

“But then it flickers out, dies to embers.” He growled, almost annoyed, but he relaxed his grip on my chin and I allowed me to drop my head slightly, relieving my neck.

“The problem is doll,” He rumbled, “when that spark of insanity is gone, you’re empty.” He told me honestly, releasing the hand on my hip, and bringing it up next to our faces. “It’s the look people get when they’ve lost hope.” He said gesturing with hands as he spoke, like a true performer, “When they’re just…” He trailed off waving his hand for the word, “…existing.”

“It’s my favourite look.” The Joker admitted, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Except on you.” he purred lowly.

I blinked at few times trying to bring myself back to some form of sense. I pulled back, away from him and I was surprised when he released his grip without an argument. He kept his hand in the air, curling his fingers slowly till he formed a clench fist. I was very aware that he could easily make another sudden move and hit me.

“You thought giving me a club was going to fix everything?!” I demanded incredulously.

He dropped his hand to his side, and I relaxed slightly but he voice was full of warning, “Careful, kitten.” He told me darkly. “Someone might think you’re ungrateful.”

I didn’t know what to say to this. I just stood there opening and closing my mouth like a fish, unsure how to articulate everything I wanted to say to him.

Instead I turned around and left, not caring if he followed me.

I was surprised when I didn’t feel a hand yanking me back around or a gun pressed to my head, but I made the most of it and left immediately. I didn’t bother to collect my bag from my office – it would still be there in the morning and I didn’t want to waste time.

I cursed and muttered to myself the whole way back to my flat, not bothering to catch the bus back, relishing instead in the cold air and the muscle exertion to wear off some of my frustration at the Joker.

I hated how weak I was, that he could manipulate me so easily into things like taking that job. I blamed his eyes. I couldn’t think straight when they held my gaze – all common sense seemed to vanish from my mind.

I stormed into my flat, not bothering to try and keep it down for my neighbours below as I stomped across my floor. Upon reaching the opposite side of my flat I stopped, throwing my hands up in the air in exasperation and shouted in frustration before I spun around to face the rest of the flat.

I was slightly out of breath from my fast-walk home, my chest rising and falling heavily as I gazed around my flat, now at a loss of what to do. I wanted to attack something. A part of me wished the Joker had followed me so I could have taken a few punches out on him - however a little voice in the back of my head told me that I would have quickly regretted that decision.

I snarled at that little voice to shut up and then threw myself on my sofa, burying my face in a cushion as I screamed into the material - releasing my pent up energy. After a few minutes I sat up on the sofa, hugging the pillow to me.  I was a weird mixture of wanting a hug and wanting to punch something - so maybe the cushion was a good idea.

I buried my head back into the cushion once more, releasing another muffled cry. It felt good. I sat up and vaguely glanced around my flat, unsure what to do now.

That’s when, for some reason, my eyes fell on the small table by my front door directly in front of me. Was something different? Was something missing? No, what was that sat on the table?

I threw my cushion to the side, striding over - my curiosity briefly overcoming my anger - and noticed what looked like a piece of paper sat under the little bowl that I kept my keys and loose change in. I didn’t remember leaving anything there. Was it just an old bill or note to myself?

I slide the small piece of paper out from under the bowl and turned it over, almost dropping the paper when I recognised it.

It was a photo of my old club.

My photo.

The photo I had left at the farm house.

I didn’t know what to do. I was numb. I turned, leaning against my front door, before I crumpled to the floor so I sat crossed legged staring at my front door, the photo still in my hand.

This was what I had told Frost the other week. Had he gone and got it for me?

Why would he? He couldn’t possibly do it without the Joker knowing – and he had probably needed the Joker’s resources to get it back. Why would the Joker do this? Was it another way to get me to ‘smile’? And what was that all about? Surely he didn’t care whether I was happy or not – he was probably just sick of my frown, or was there, yet again something behind all this ‘smile’ plan. Was he just trying to cheer me up before he shot me down, was this just a sick game of his?

I gazed unseeing in front of me, my expression blank, tears running silently down my cheeks.

I sat in silence for a few moments, confused and feeling very alone as I processed everything.

I lifted the photo once more and examined it, drinking in each detail.

Time to leave the happiness in the past.

The Joker wouldn’t see me smile.

Then I tore the picture into tiny pieces.

I bowed my head, squeezing my eyes tightly closed and my jaw clenched at the pain that washed through and overwhelmed me as I sobbed at the paper that littered my lap.

 I ought to kill the girl for all the trouble she’s given me The Joker thought moodily, stuffing the photo back into his shirt pocket and draining the last of his amber liquid as music echoed throughout the darkened club. He then abruptly spun his stool, straightening up from where he had been hunched over the empty bar, and threw his glass at the wall opposite. He heard it shatter, then the rain of the fragments as they feel onto the floor.

The destruction filled him with satisfaction.

He grabbed the bottle of alcohol on the bar to his right which he had been using to refill his glass. He didn’t hesitating before he launching this too, making contact with the wall just below the previous impaction. The liquid painted the wall and slowly dripped its way down, tinted purple from the light on the paint behind it, before it pooled at the foot of the wall.

The Joker pushed himself off his seat, sauntering over to the mess he had made, admiring his handiwork. He had cleaners for a reason after all. Might as well make them work for the money he paid them.

He crouched, bending to pick up a particular shard of glass and walked to a nearby booth, all the while his eyes on the small piece of destruction in his hand as he spun it in his hand.

Without looking he stepped up onto the booth’s cushioned seat and then onto the table, before – without faltering – he folded himself gracefully into a crossed-legged seat in the centre. A new song came on as he held the shard up, staring through it as he twirled it expertly between his fingers to, the dim orange light above him catching it as it moved.

I dance around this empty house Tear us down Throw you out Screaming down the halls Spinning all around and now we fall

Pictures framing up the past Your taunting smirk behind the glass This museum full of ash Once a tickle Now a rash

This used to be a funhouse But now it's full of evil clowns It's time to start the countdown I'm gonna burn it down down down I'm gonna burn it down

Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, fun

He spun the glass through his fingers faster and faster as the song played and his mind raced of the girl, replaying her performance in his mind, her lips forming and kissing each word out of her mouth as she pulled off her little plan. Soon his movements became too exuberant and there was a red streak, bright against his pale finger.

He threw the glass fragment across the room and once again pulled the tatty photo from his shirt - creased with time but still clearly showing the old club. Humming to himself, he glanced at it and then watched the blood well in the cut before it began flowing down his hand.

Oh, what a deadly voice.

 tags: @theartistdetective @viraldragonrider

[thejokersenigma]

OMG 350 Followers! 😲

I'm sooooo grateful for every single person who follows me, you all literally mean the world to me and I would love to thank each and every one of you personally if I could! (it would take forever though I'm afraid)

I'm even more thankful for all those that have stood by me throughout everything - even my current phase of lack of writing you haven't given up on me so thank you from the bottom of my heart, every like, reblog and comment lifts my heart every day!

Sorry to be so cheesy, but I love you guys! 😄😊

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 31

Hello guys,

Ok here is the next part - I apologise it’s very long (over 5,000 words) but I sort of knew where i wanted to stop it and I wrote a bit too much in between! haha

I also apologise for the quality of writing - I wrote it at about 1am last night so its not great but im sick of reading it over and over as i try to edit it so I’m just going to post and maybe one day I’ll come back and try and fix it!

At least its readable!

Hope you guys enjoy anyway! :)

Masterlist

Frost drove us through the streets of Gotham - familiar landmarks flying past us as we sped through the centre and out the other side, heading into the poorer area of the city where I had – wisely - never ventured. If anyone had felt – like most did – that the rest of Gotham was dangerous, then they had no idea about this place. This was place was never safe to be walking around on your own – night or day - especially if you didn’t carry some sort of firearm or knife or a least didn’t know how to one.

Having never been here I peered out of my window in curiosity and was quite amazed by the sights. Every building appeared to be in some state of disrepair, whether it was broken piping, smashed windows, broken doors or wall literally falling down. We passed bungalows, rows of terraced house and high rising flats, all riddled with graffiti and looked in serious need of TLC - judging by the stained walls and boarded windows. The people that lurked on the streets didn’t help the scenery much either. They seemed to favour forming groups outside the entrances of the more derelict buildings, most of them men that just seemed to scream dangerous - most smoking, some with guns cradled in their arms on alert, others with pistols tucked into their belts.

I shrunk back into my seat, glad I was in the relative safety of the car and had Frost sat across from me – though I wasn’t sure he could take on the whole neighbourhood. We remained in silence as we drove down the dirty, rundown streets until we eventually pulled up outside one of the bungalows.

Frost cut the engine and I felt a sudden wave of panic rush through me. What was I supposed to do? Was I expected to follow Frost or did I stay in the car? I hadn’t even thought about this but now it hit me and I had no idea what the protocol was here. Frost didn’t bother to look at me or attempt to explain himself as he opened the door and climbed out.

I swallowed thickly and tried to battled down my nerves as I reached for my door handle to get out of the car. Just then Frost reappeared in the driver’s doorway, “Stay in the car.” He ordered me and, without checking I had heard or acknowledged his command, he had straightened back up and slammed the door closed. I hastily spun back to my door and - just before he locked the car - I managed to hit the controls on the door and crack the passenger window open slightly.

I wasn’t going to miss everything just because I was too scared to get out of the damn car.

I watched as Frost strode up to the shabby looking front door and knocked on it smartly before crossing his arms over his chest. Clearly not everyone in this line of work got paid well, I judged, observing the state of the house before me. The lawn was overgrown, unkempt and lacking in any colour due to the absence of flowers or shrubbery, and the house was in serious need of a new coat of paint to replace the off-white colour that peeled in places, and to cover the lichen that appeared to be crawling up the lower foundations.

I began to wonder if anyone was home when no one came to the door after a few minutes, but Frost didn’t seem fazed and remained inn place – clearly well aware of the habits of whoever lived there.

“Marv.” I heard Frost call loudly at the door and knocked on it once more, before stepping back slightly – presumably hearing some sort of response back that I couldn’t. The door then seemed to move inwards as a tall man appeared in a dirty white t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. His shirt fit him snuggly - the material hugging his chest and showing how well built he was – and his arm muscles became clear and defined as he mimicked Frost’s folded arms.

“Jesus.” I heard ‘Marv’ breathe, “Frost?” He asked in disbelief at the suited man in front of him. I didn’t hear Frost say anything in return – clearly assuming that his presence was enough of a confirmation for the startled man. “I thought you’d bugger’d off somewhere?”

“I had.” Frost said simply, “Now I’m back.” Marv stood staring at Frost for a moment, clearly not sure if what he was seeing was true. He then looked past Frost in my direction and I caught his eyes.

“Who’s that?” He asked nodding in my direction.

“No one.” Muttered Frost firmly - in a way that seemed to say the man in the doorway better forget he’d ever seen me. I felt a bit hurt by this. No one? I scowled, was I not worth explaining? I mean – who the hell came up with this idea in the first place?!

I was so annoyed and too busy thinking about some choice words for Frost – had I had the courage to actually say them - that I missed some of their conversation.

“-eft him now.” I caught Marv telling Frost, now leaning against the doorframe of the neglected house, “’specially when we figur’d you’d jump’d ship.”

“Any idea where he might be now?” Asked Frost, “Or know one of the lads that might?”

From where I was sat I couldn’t see much but Marv seemed to be considering this for a few moments, and I thought I noticed him move his jaw slightly in thought as he seemed to stare at a piece of guttering that was hanging down from one of the walls. “You seen Jake?” he asked, turning his eyes back to Frost.

I thought I saw Frost tense slightly at this. Who was Jake?

“No one else you can think of?” I could just hear Frost mutter as I strained my ears to pick up his words.

“He’s the on’y one I can thin’ of tha’s defini’ly still with ‘im.”

Frost paused for a moment, seeming to consider his options. Eventually he nodded in resignation, “Ok mate, cheers. Take care.” He said turning around and heading back in my direction, though refusing to look at me. Marv watched him as he walked away – clearly wondering what Frost was up to - but he was probably use to being kept in the dark by his superiors and he didn’t bothering asking after Frost’s retreating figure, instead he stepped back into the house and closed the battered door behind him.

I had been too busy watching Marv that I jumped slightly when the clicking of the car unlocking broke the silence and Frost pulled open the driver’s door. I clutched my chest at the slight surprise, but soon calmed when I realised it was just Frost and turned to him as he slid into the chair next to me. “Who’s Jake?” I asked without hesitation.

“You know people say it’s rude to eavesdrop.” He muttered, placing the key in the ignition without looking at me.

“It’s also considered very rude to steal cars.” I pointed out, “I personally think we’re past ‘rudeness’.”

I noticed him roll his eyes slightly as he started the car up and pull away from the pavement.

“So who’s Jake?” I pushed with confidence, for some reason no longer fearing the man next to me. Around here he practically felt like a friend.

“Just another - what you would call - ‘Henchman’”. Frost told me vaguely.

“Right….” I nodded; resigning myself to the fact he wasn’t going to tell me anything more of his own free will.

We drove in silence as we both fell into our own thoughts and - though I watched the city fly past me through the tinted windows - I wasn’t paying much attention to where we were going. Instead I was too busy talking myself round in circles about whether what I was doing was for the right thing. Was it really a smart idea to seek out the psychopath that had been a large factor behind me running in the first place?

It was only as we headed once more out of the city centre and towards the opposite side of Gotham that I began to take notice of where we were.

I knew this area.

I knew it all too well and – judging by the twisted and convoluted route that he took the streets – Frost also knew what was around here. What he couldn’t avoid was the fact that I had grown up on these particular streets so knew the how area off-by-heart.

This meant I was all too aware that 3 streets to our left were the demolished foundations and rubble of my club.

I was grateful to Frost for trying to avoid the site, but I couldn’t stop the lump in my throat forming at the thought of everything that had been - now in a pile of dust and dirt. I tried to turn my mind back to more immediate things.

It was weird to think that a henchman of the Joker’s had lived so close to me, but then – I supposed – why shouldn’t he? They were all just normal men really after all – most weren’t the crazy psychopaths that they followed, just working men who happened to have a strong skill in the use of firearms and other weapons and needed the money.

Who knew how many criminals lived around me without me realising – hell, I may have even met them or played on their street when I was little!

For some reason these thoughts didn’t worry me. I guess I had survived this long and never had a problem, why should it bother me now? They were probably nice guys when they weren’t helping to rob and murder. Heck Frost seemed an alright guy.

Just then the man in question pulled over next to familiar block of flats.

No.

No. Jake. No. I thought in blind panic. No.

I turned to Frost with disbelief and hurt in my eyes, “You’re not serious?!” I demanded as I stared out the window at the building I knew all too well – this was definitely the same place.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“Who is Jake?” I spat. Frost ignored me as he rummaged for something in the back of the car, the engine still running. I wasn’t having this – I was fed up of all this need-to-know bullshit. I needed to know.

I grabbed his arm, “Frost!” I warned. He froze and looked down at my tiny hand on his large arms - as if surprised I had made the physical contact with him. I paused then, thinking about what I had just done and regretted it – I didn’t touch him. There was an unspoken rule between us that we didn’t touch – except for the two times I had broken down and lost control. But now I was in full control and still holding onto him - none too gently at that as I felt I fingers digging through the sleeve of his jacket.

To hell with it! I thought. It was too late now - I was already doing it. I kept my grip – taking all my courage not to chicken out and let go. “Answer me.” I demanded - though my voice was now a bit shaky with uncertainty.

“’Jake’ is Jake Riggens.” Confessed Frost reluctantly. I let go of his arm and fell back into my seat. I tried to get my head around this as I stared blankly at my lap before I brought my hand up to cover my face in humiliation. Oh God.

Jake Riggen.

The ‘Jake’ I had gone to when I had escaped the Joker shortly after blowing up the club.

“He worked for you the whole time?” I croaked out, turning my head back to Frost who remained sat in the car watching me cautiously– clearly not sure what I would do or how to proceed. He gave a very small nod to my question.

“I don’t believe it!” I yelled at no one in particular, “I trusted him! All this bloody time he was working for you?! He could have helped to set this all up!”  I shouted blindly, mainly talking to myself now. Frost ignored my rambling at the dashboard and cut the engine, sliding out of the car.

I made to follow him but he had slammed the door and locked the car before I could even reach for the handle. “Frost!” I screamed through the window. “Let me out! Don’t! COME BACK!” I shouted through the passenger window, pounding on the glass and pointlessly pulling at the door handle whilst I watched him stride quickly up to the flats.

I watched him as he pressed the buzzer for Jake’s flat and waited for a response whilst I continued ot punch the car, yelling as loudly as I could to see if he could still hear me. If he could hear me he completely ignored me. I silently prayed Jake wouldn’t be in so he would have to come back and actually deal with my anger rather than running away like he had. Clearly God wasn’t on my side today at all because soon Frost was bending to talk into the speaker before he was then buzzed into the entrance way.

I gave one last futile shove on the car door before I gave up with a loud cry and sat slumped on in my chair, cradling my now raw and bruised fists as angry tears trickled down my cheek.

I shoved them away in annoyance. I couldn’t bloody believe it. You couldn’t trust anyone in this bloody city! Everyone seemed to be out to get someone else! Was there no nice, genuine people left in this entire city?!

How had I not seen this though? I thought angrily. He’d bloody told me that he use to work for Penguin! I guess at the time I just presumed he meant like his brother, Jack, who had worked on the sound system – not as a henchman!

When had he been poached from Penguin? Before or after we had been on that one date together? Was that why he had changed? No. It couldn’t be. The Joker didn’t know me at that time – there was no way. It would have just been a coincidence.

But wait. Was his brother even a sound system guy? Or was he secretly working for the Joker? Did he have anything to do with the Joker’s takeover?!

I couldn’t believe this. Who could I trust?!

Clearly no one. I thought bitterly.

I stared at the dashboard in front of me moodily whilst I waited for Frost to come back. I had shot my head up several times at movement but they had just been over residences entering or leaving the block.

They were taking a long time. Maybe Frost didn’t want to come back out to deal with me like this.

I guess it wasn’t really his fault.

I mean, he was part of it, but he just did what the Joker told him to do. He hadn’t wanted to tell me because he knew it would upset me. He had tried to find out from Marv if there was someone else we could have gone to instead. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him to tell me. This wasn’t his fault. This was Jake’s fault. And the Joker’s fault.

Oh I was going to give that clown a piece of my mind when I found him. I thought angrily, clenching my fists.

I wasn’t feeling worried about my encounter with the Joker right now.

Right now - with my fury over yet another of his manipulations – I felt that, had he been standing in front of me right now - I wouldn’t have held back from slapping that damn psycho again.

He had some serious explaining to do - what with him always managing to find a way to control my every move and somehow convincing me to come back to Gotham when I had finely got away from him! All because his sorry ass might be dead!

That thought sobered me a bit however.

As much as I really hated him at the moment - and wouldn’t mind invoking some serious damage on the deranged criminal - the thought that he might be dead still chilled me and made my throat close up.

I closed my eyes and leant back so my head was against the rest. This was all a mess and I was suddenly very tired . My emotions and thoughts were all confused and everything felt tangled up in my mind.

There were so many people I wanted to give a piece of my mind – Penguin, Jake, The Joker.

But not Frost.

I needed to apologise to him when he came back and not be so snappy. None of this was his fault and so far he’d actually been a huge help.

As long as it didn’t turn out he betrayed me after all.

Not that it would surprise me. Everyone else had so far.

I guess only time would tell and I would just have to run with the fact that he was the closest thing I had to a friend right now.

And because of the that I would help him with his Joker problem. I would continue to help find the clown – though I didn’t feel I was helping much as hindering at the moment.

And if he was still alive then I’d let him see that I was fine, then he could leave me alone.

That was it. No huge reconciliation, no manipulation.

Somehow I would get out of there.

I would harness my new anger at the Joker and turn it into the courage I needed to face him and walk away I thought smiling to myself with my new bravery.

Just then I noticed movement in the corner of my eye and I looked to the entrance to the block of the flats as the door was shoved open to reveal Frost. He seemed to be in quite a rush as he strode quickly to the car.

He didn’t look at me as he walked around the front of the car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned about the intense look on his face and his rush to get into the car. He didn’t respond, still not looking at me and starting the engine instead.

“Frost!” I cried, grabbing his lower arm once again to get him to pay attention to me. “What’s going on?!” I demanded.

He didn’t hesitate at my touch this time, shrugging my hand off easily, “We need to go.” He told me before accelerating quickly away from the curb.

“What’s going?!” I asked starting to panic now - any bravery I had been feeling melting away with the worst case scenarios flying through my head, “Do you know where he is?” His briskness and the fact we seemed to be doing double the speed limit was only adding to my worry.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?!” I asked incredulously.

“I have the freshest source of information.” He informed me, as if that was supposed to provide me some sort of comfort.

“Ugh.” I groaned in exasperation, throwing myself back in the seat from where I had leant forward in my alarm. Still no straight answer.

Frost ignored my mood, concentrating instead on the road as he drove us back into the centre of Gotham for the third time that day. This time we headed past the docks, the old warehouses bordered up and some surrounded in scaffolding where new construction had started but fallen through. I wondered how many people had hideouts along here – were we heading to one of them? I desperately searched each with eyes looking for clues to where we were going that I knew didn’t exist.

Frost continued to drive, passing all of them and answering my question as we moved away from the abandoned buildings. Up ahead loomed something that made my blood run cold. We were heading for the South Bridge.

Frost didn’t look at me but I thought I noticed his grip tighten on the steering wheel as we crossed it. I too could feel myself tense as we pasted the spot I had jumped from. It was weird to be back – I had told myself I never would but yet here I was. About to confront one of the main reasons I had promised never to return to Gotham.

Once we had crossed the bridge I felt I could breathe freely again, though my heart never calmed, instead my gut was now clenched in nerves of where we were going and what was going to happen.

We drove into the outskirts of Gotham and I almost thought that Frost was attempting to leave the city altogether as we drove into the higher priced areas. Soon the houses and the spaces between them became larger - gardens sprouting up, each pristine and soon becoming the size of small fields. The streets here were cleaner - no graffiti or chewing gum speckled pavements in sight. I had never been here before and I had to wonder if we were truly still in Gotham. It looked like a whole other world.

Frost finally pulled up outside a mansion that almost seemed to sit on its own. It looked almost the same as the others except for the slightly darker colour of paint and a few architectural differences that I could only notice when looking closely.

“You’re kidding right?” I snorted, laughing in shock. “This is a hideout?!”

“No.” Corrected Frost, “This is his house.”

“What?!” I asked in disbelief, glancing quickly at Frost before I turned back to gawk at the house. I looked out over the lawn, its edges lined with neat hedges expect for the front where the grass was open to the road. The whole garden looked immaculate except for some odd tire marks that were gouged into the centre of the green on the right side of the house. I frowned at the imperfections in confusion. Why were they there?

“He rarely ever comes here.” Admitted Frost, bringing my attention back from the grass, “But he does own it.” He told me as he killed the engine and climbed out of the car once more. I gulped. This was it. I was going to go find him. No turning back.

I could feel my hands becoming shaky and my nerves twisting in my abdomen. I was desperately trying to find some of that kickass bravery I had in the car back outside the flats.

I can do this, I thought to myself sternly. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Frost was already at my side of the car and he grabbing the top of the door to hold it open for me. I shot him a small smile of thanks before I clambered out, my legs a bit unsteady.

It felt good to finally be out of the car but the thought of what I had to do now didn’t leave me. I stood awkwardly waiting as Frost shut the door behind me and locked the car.

I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do now. Did Frost have a key to the house? Was he sure the Joker was in there? I thought staring up at the towering house.

I followed Frost like a puppy to the large front door and it turned out Frost didn’t need keys as he simply turned the handle and pushed the door open slowly, but not before I noticed his hand travel into his pocket and pull out a pistol. He held it up as he edged into the house, pointing it ahead of him around the side of the door. I pressed slightly closer to him, not wanting to be left behind unarmed and unprotected.

We entered a large empty hallway, the floor made of smooth white marble, but that wasn’t what caught my eye and cause me to stifle a gasp.

Originally this house must have been decorated to match all the others around this area, but now it couldn’t have looked any different.

The walls were covered in black marker and red, purple and green paint. A few snatches of the original golden wallpaper could be seen here and there but most of the walls were covered in scribbles and drawings - all depicting variations on the same theme of ‘HAHA’s, grinning faces, jester hats, J’s, bats and playing cards. The wall were also littered with black specks that I  soon realised were bullet holes. Some were arranged so they formed a smile, others were just random holes in the wall, no rhyme or reason to them.

There was a large staircase on the left hand side of the room which led up to the back wall before it turned back on itself to lead further upwards. The back wall on the ground floor - to the right of the stairs, and straight in front of me - was full of what I now recognised to be knives. They all stuck out at various angles and I could imagine the Joker walking through the front door and throwing one straight down the hall so they embedded on the opposite wall, their hilts pointing out.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the walls - the whole hallway spelt insanity and I feared what the rest of the house looked like. Frost stepped around  the entrance room quietly and carefully - checking each room that led off - his pistol constantly aimed in front of him whilst I waited nervously by the doorway, afraid to move any further. This whole place unsettled me.

Eventually he moved back into the centre of the marble floor and lowered his pistol, noticeably relaxing. “He’s not down here, but neither is anyone else.” He informed me. I nodded mutely, too paralysed by my nerves to do much else.

He seemed to notice I was struggling and glanced around him before he gestured for me to follow as he led me into the first door on the right of the hallway. It opened up to what I believe was the drawing room at the front of the house, the large window overlooking the garden and road outside.

This room appeared untouched by the Joker, everything seeming to be of original design – no new artwork added to the walls or the ceiling, and the furniture neatly arranged. It was also all covered in a layer of dust. Frost turned around to face me. “Wait here. I’ll search the rest of the house for him.” He told me. I nodded silently again but didn’t like the idea of being left on my own in this huge house – especially when he seemed to think it required carrying a weapon around.

He must have noticed me glance down at his gun because he lifted it up, twisting it nonchalantly as if it wasn’t much, “Don’t worry about this – it’s just a precaution - just in case he’s a bit surprised to have a visitor.” He must have noticed this didn’t comfort me much because he quickly added, “Don’t worry, he never comes in this room - as you can tell.” He gestured around us, smirking slightly, at the faded chairs and dust that had flown in the air by us just walking in, now catching in the light that flowed through the tall window.

Again I nodded, but was still not particularly convinced. “Y/N, it’ll be fine. I’ll close the door. He’ll think it’s just me. Trust me, you’ll hear him coming – then you just need to hide.” He gestured to the hiding spots available around the room. I nodded a bit more confidently this time.

“Frost.” I croaked as he moved out the door, “Be careful.” I mumbled.  He gave me a soldier’s nod, holding up his pistol before him, and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

When I heard the click of the door I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I turned to face the rest of the room. It was exactly as I thought any of the other mansions in the area would have looked like, the ornate wallpaper, plush carpet, accent rug by a small fire place and cushiony wing back armchairs arranged around it. I wondered why he never came in here – but then how many rooms could one man need if he lived here alone.  

The only thing that might have told me someone may have once been in this room was a decanter full of an amber liquid on the coffee table between the two chairs. Even then, however, it seemed to be more for show – two glasses arranged perfectly next to the bottle – one for each chair.

I wandered over to admire the elaborately cut crystal tumblers which matched the decanter behind them. A drink might be just what I need, I thought – to calm the nerves – I picked the glasses up gently, tilting them to catch the light from the tall front window and noticed how each was lined with a thick layer of grime. How hygienic, I though sarcastically, putting the glass back down before eying up the alcohol once more.

To hell with it I thought, it wasn’t like anyone used it! I grabbed the neck of the decanter and popped the lid, taking a large swig. “Ah.” I coughed as the drink burned my throat, eventually hitting my stomach and warming me. That may have been a bit of larger drink then I meant to take but maybe it would help to release some of the anxiety worming its way in my abdomen.

I kept the carafe in my hand and observed the rest of the room, my eyes finally falling on the piano that stood under the window at the end of the room, nestled between the thick curtains.

I stepped my way over to it, my footsteps slow and cautious in case of creaking floorboards that might give away my position. It was made of dark wood that suited the rest of the room, and looked smooth and polished - almost brand new if it hadn’t been for a few nicks and dents I noticed throughout the main body.

I pulled out the small stool that lay tucked neatly under it, making sure I lifted it up instead of dragging - even though I was such the dense carpet would have muffled any noise it made. I perched lightly on the faded cushion that padded the top, still holding the alcohol - keeping one ear out for any noise from above me or out in the hall - and stared in awe at the beautiful instrument.

I absent-mindedly took another swig from my open decanter - this time cringing slightly less at the scalding on the back of my throat – and laid a tentative hand on the wooden fallboard, hesitating slightly before I pushed it open – revealing the keys beneath.

They were slightly discoloured from age and I ran my fingers over then, tracing their outlines as I wondered if it was tuned. I took yet another swig of the amber juice – this time not even reacting to the sting as I swallowed.

If I played quietly would anyone hear? I wondered, my head feeling a bit heavy now and I was slightly regretting having the drinks, but that didn’t stop me from bring it to my lips once more – I was starting to like the taste and it was just convenient sat in my hand.

The house was old – surely the walls were thick? And that meant the floorboards too right? I sat there considering it for a bit as I ran my hand up and down the piano. If I pressed really lightly surely it wouldn’t be that loud? My mind seemed to have forgotten how loud a piano could be and my ears seemed to be ringing slightly anyway.

YOLO I silently giggled to myself, lightly pressing down on one of the keys. The chime that rang out was beautiful to my drunken ears, slightly out of tune, but not terrible for something that was never used.

I hadn’t played in a long time and I couldn’t remember many songs off the top of my head, especially when my mind was becoming cloudier by the second thanks to my liquid friend. I did remember a few basics however, and I balanced the carafe on the top of the piano before I returned my attention back to the white teeth. I began to lightly press a few keys, soon finding my fingers flowing like the alcohol in my system and I had begun to play ‘Make You Feel My Love by Adele.

After running through the main chords a few times I began to sing quietly to myself,

“When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love…”

I took one hand away from the instrument, grabbing the decanter and taking another swig before concentrating on the music once more. I didn’t realise I began to push more firmly and confidently on the keys, no longer whispering the words to myself as I swayed slightly to the tune.

“I know you haven’t made your mind up yet

But I would never do you wrong

Ive known it from the moment that we met

No doubt in my mind where you belong…”

I didn’t hear the muffled shout or the dull thump from upstairs - too engrossed in the song and the alcohol intoxication.

“I’d go hungry

I’d go black and blue

I’d go crawling down the avenue,

No there’s nothing I wouldn’t do,

To make you feel my love..”

I dragged out the last note in my inebriated state.

“My, my… What a deadly voice.” Drawled someone behind me.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 32

Hey guys,

Here’s the next bit - I’ll apologise for any poor writing as I wrote most of this at 2am last night.

Again, its another long one - I just get a bit carried away with details etc. Sorry it’s not really a ‘fanfic’ as such anymore - more like a novel - I hope that’s alright - I know some people don’t like that thing on here and they want it more brief.

Maybe I’ll try to do that again on my next story.

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoy! :)

Masterlist

I froze when I heard his voice, my stomach dropping to my feet and I felt myself sobering up almost immediately.

Well that answered the question if he was alive or not.

“It’s odd.” The Joker sneered behind me and I twisted in my seat to look at him, “I don’t remember drinking that much.” He was exactly as I remembered him stood there. But this was more of him then I’d ever seen. He was wearing some low-riding sweatpants and that was it. His feet were bare and so was his entire torso apart from the tattoos littered across his skin. I swallowed thickly as admired his bleached skin and defined muscles, completely ignoring his words.

“You don’t usually sing for me either.” He contemplated to himself, “Must be a different type of drink tonight.”

Wait. What was he on about? Was he raving? I didn’t say anything too confused about what he was rambling on about and too paralysed by the fear – a deer caught in the headlights. Where was Frost?!

“Come on my little bird, sing for meeeeee!” he sneered before a demonic smile split his face and he let out a high, harsh cackle. I couldn’t move, his eyes and laughter pinning me in my half twisted position. I could feel my muscles aching and screaming for release from the prolonged uncomfortable position but I was petrified in place by him and was too scared of how he might react if I moved. Where was Frost?!

“PLLLLEEEEAAASSSSEEE!” He screeched at me, his teeth gritted together and his grin spreading even wider as he bowed forward at his waist, trying to invade as much of my personal space as possible without moving from he stood. He then abruptly swung himself backwards as he erupted into humourless chuckles.

I flinched at his sudden movements and loud roar of laughter. Was he drunk? Or was this what he was like now?! Oh God what had I done? Why hadn’t I been paying attention to what was going on around me? Frost said I would have been able to hear him, and then I could have hidden!  I silently cursed myself - why had I drunk so much?! At the time the alcohol had truly seemed to help – it definitely calmed me – but it had worked too well and I had stopped caring about anything – including how much bloody noise a piano made!

Wait. The piano. The decanter was still on it.

Whilst the Joker was in his manic hysterics I slowly reached my left arm blindly behind me – attempting to not move the rest of my body in the process - until I came into contact with the top of the piano. I ran my hand cautiously along the rim of the instrument - all the time trying not to draw attention to myself with any excess movement that might snap the inebriated Joker out of his laughing fit.

Eventually my hand knocked against the glass body of the decanter and I slid my hand up and around the neck before carefully lifting it up moving it to my side so it was hidden behind my body. When I had it held securely to my side – and without taking my eyes off the Joker - I stood up as smoothly and confidently as I could. I didn’t want him to see that he was getting to me. I didn’t want to show him weakness. He would feed off of it.

He abruptly stopped laughing at my movement and pulled himself back up straight, facing me head on, “Whatcha got there doll?” he asked tilting his head and widening his eyes slightly at my hand that grasped the ornate bottle just out of sight behind my body. I didn’t say anything, only clutching the decanter tighter to my body as if it was my only lifeline – which it might be. Where was Frost?!

“Come on.” He urged patronisingly, holding out his hand to me like I was a cat he was trying to encourage closer. “Come on, come on, come on, come on…” he persisted, squinting his eyes as he grinned wide and menacing at me.

I could move, couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure what my plan was anymore. How should I react, what should I do? Where was Frost?! “…come on, come ON doll!” He growled in frustration, his temper snapping slightly as he tried to restrain himself. “You’re usually so good…” he purred. When had I ever been ‘good’ around him? “Awww Doll... You’re breaking my heart” he whined, pouting his lips and pulling his outstretched hand back, placing it over his chest.

“You never use to know where that was.” I suddenly snapped, surprising myself at the outburst but trying not to show it as I glared at him.

Why on Earth did I say that?! What was wrong with me – did I somehow think it was smart to rile up the insane clown in front of me? Oh God, where was Frost?!

“Oooooo….” He leered, widening his eyes and pulling his head back in mocking shock, “Kitten’s got her claws back!” He cried in glee, giggling, “I missed this side of you doll – you’ve been too nice lately.” What was he talking about? When was I ever nice around him? Where was Frost?!

“But Doll, as much as I like you feisty...” he drawled, “I’m gonna have to asked you one more time – what do you have there?”

“A weapon if needs be.” I stated fiercely, not being fooled by his ‘sweet talk’.

“Now what would you need one of those for my dear?” He questioned innocently, taking a step toward me.

“Where’s Frost?” I asked impulsively, unnerved by his gentleness but standing my ground as he moved closer, refusing to yield no matter how much of my personal space he invaded.

“Now, now.” He tut-tutted, shaking his finger in front of my face, “That’s not the answer to my question is it?”

I didn’t say anything but stared at him stonily. “You are rather wilful tonight aren’t you kitten?” he asked, watching me with interest as though I intrigued him.

“Where’s Frost?” I bit out again determinedly, clutching the decanter even tighter in my hand – I wasn’t afraid to use it as a weapon if I needed to.

“There you go again!” He exclaimed gesturing wildly with one arm as he spun on his heel and strode back away from me, “Why does he suddenly mean so much to you, hmm doll? You’ve never bothered to mention him before!”

I furrowed my brow at him, confused what he was going on about. “You know doll,” he paused, his back still to me, now tilting his head so he looked diagonally upwards, “I’m starting to get bored of this now.” He mused at the ceiling, “I think I preferred you the way you were last night...” He suddenly spun back around so he faced me once more, “Silent.” He declared, the rictus back on his face and – somehow - a blade in his hand.

I recoiled, eying the knife in his hand in panic, no longer sure what I should be watching – him or the blade. I raised my own ‘weapon’ slightly, ready to smash it when needed.

“Not to worry doll,” he comforted, “Like I keep telling you every night – you’re only a dream. It won’t hurt.” He purred, stepping ever closer to me, tossing the knife in his hand.

Did he think I was a dream? A hallucination?

“I’m not a dream!” I cried desperately, with no hope that it would be enough to convince him and so raising the decanter further as a warning. “Where’s Frost?!” I demanded - he was the only one that was going to help me now.

“You and the snowman got a thing or something?” Joker sneered, tilting his head to the side once more as he advanced back towards me with predatory steps, “Now that’s a reason to hurt you even more…” he rumbled in pleasure.

He now stopped very close to me, barely a foot away and I was very aware that he could easily bring the knife forward into my abdomen at any moment. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to use the one defence I had, instead it hung uselessly in my hand.

He seemed to read my thoughts - or maybe he noticed a twitch in my hand holding the decanter - because he suddenly pitched forward and I flinched, screwing my eye tightly shut as I waited to feel the pain hit me.

When I felt nothing I slowly peeled my eyes open, afraid of what I might see. We were now nose to nose and my entire vision was filled with his face, his bright eyes drawing my own. I noticed his brow crinkle with his grin and then I heard a clinking noise to my left. Without moving my head I glanced quickly out of the corner of my eye to see him tapping the decanter in my hand with the edge of his blade. I quickly returned my eyes to his and his gaze hadn’t left my face.

“Although…” He muttered to himself, staring so intently into my eyes that I could feel my cheeks becoming red and I had the overwhelming need to pull back or look away from his burning glare. He growled a warning as if he knew what I was thinking and I so I didn’t dare to try to look away. “Although…” he repeated, now bringing the knife to my face and resting the edge lightly on my cheek, “I could always show you what you’re missing…” He purred, caressing my skin with the metal. He was so close to me I could almost feel him vibrating with the noise and his warm breath blew across my face. I shivered at the sensation.

Then his lips were on mine.

It was a shocking contrast to the cold metal on my cheek, his lips hot and firm against mine and I closed my eyes at the bliss that washed over me. Any thoughts I had only lasted a few seconds before the kiss became more intense and my mind was wiped completely clear. I barely noticed him take the decanter out of my hand and I vaguely acknowledged my hands drop limply to my sides - too caught up in his mouth and his other hand which ran up my neck to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and forcing me harder against him.

He bit at my lower lip and I couldn’t help but gasp at this, and he soon made the most of the opportunity, deepening the kiss and I was happy to copy..

I soon forgot how to breathe and it didn’t take long for me to become light headed, but I didn’t want it to end. I missed this. Whatever it was. I brought my hands to his waist, just above the band of his sweatpants, gripping his hips and holding him tightly. I didn’t want to lose him again - contrary to the fact there was a weapon pressed into my face – it was the safest I had felt in a very long time.

I didn’t want to be the one to break it off.

I don’t know how long we stood there, lost in each other. In the back of my mind I vaguely heard a noise, but was too dissociated to really acknowledge it. However it seemed to bring the Joker to his senses and he abruptly pulled back, cold air suddenly hitting my lips, my hands now empty and limp by my side. I opened my eyes in surprise at the sudden loss of contact only to I was stood alone in the room.

I wished he’d stop doing that. He was giving me whiplash.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there numbly - lightly out of breath and my head still hazy – before I heard someone calling my name from the stairs and then the entrance hall, before Frost finally burst through the doorway. “[Y/N]?!” He called, rushing over to me, breathless. I snapped out of my stupor when I saw him, blinking rapidly as he looked me up and down, taking in my dishevelled hair, redden lips and shell-shocked appearance.

Frost, however, looked much worse for wear. The sleeves and shoulders were torn on his suit jacket and it hung open to reveal his white shirt which was now creased, ripped and stained with blood. Then I noticed the source of the blood – a long gash on his neck.

“My God…” I breathed, my eyes widening at the large wound, “Frost, what happened to you?!” I cried, suddenly breaking out of whatever had held me and rushing towards him, barely acknowledging my stumbling or heavy legs from shock and the lingering alcohol.

Before I knew it I was basically pressed up against him, “Let me look.” I said with concerned, grabbed the side of his neck which was not seeping blood and pulling him down to my height so I could inspect the wound. He visibly winced at my careless manipulation and grimaced in apology, “Sorry.” I muttered gently, lightening my touch on his skin as I turned his neck further around so the wound was in now more in my line of sight.

I inspected the wound with my ignorant eyes - not entirely sure what I was doing. I could tell it wasn’t too deep and it was a relatively clean cut, though it had bled quite a lot and still appeared to be oozing sluggishly. “Maybe you ought to lie down.” I suggested, stepping back a bit, now acutely aware how inappropriately close I had been to him. He made to nod at my suggestion but soon regretted it, his eyes screwed shut in pain as he tried to straighten his neck once more. I bit my lip and made a sympathetic face at his pain.

He stood still until his pain subsided enough that he could relax his contorted expression, and then made his way to couch that sat under the other, smaller window on the wall opposite the door. I watched his back as he moved and I noticed how the blood had soaked his collar and left a darker stain on his already black suit. Oddly though, I noted, his hair seemed to have clumped on the back of his head. Why was their blood that high up? “Uh, Frost...” I started and he paused, turning his whole body to face me to limit the movement in his neck. I moved towards him, reaching once more for his head, “Why is there blood in your hair?”

“Well, when I woke up I was on the floor.” He exclaimed, his teeth clenched in pain, “Maybe it just pooled there.” I didn’t ask about why he had woken up on the floor, too intrigued by the blood in his hair. I moved behind him, examining the bloodied mat amongst the rest of his messy hair. It was soaked in blood and I stood on my tiptoes as I moved the hair to the side, feeling a small pool of liquid beneath my fingertips. When I had parted his hair enough to see his scalp I was saw yet another wound - this one slightly deeper – between my fingertips. I inhaled sharply at the sight and he flinched under the pressure of my touch - probably immediately regretted it as he inhaled sharply from the pain in his neck. “What is it?!” He demanded, impatient and probably annoyed he couldn’t use his neck to turn to me.

“You have quite a nasty gash on the back of your head too.” I told him, moving back round so I was in front of him once more. “I really think you need to lie down.” I insisted, digging through my head for any first aid I knew, “You must have lost a heck of a lot of blood.” He grimaced at this thought and continued to move to the couch, lying down gingerly. He held his breath as his neck and head made contact with the sofa, scrunching his eyes at the stinging before his face relaxed, though he kept his eyes closed.

I glanced around the room, desperately thinking of what to do. I needed to stop the bleeding somehow. I needed a bandage. Did this house have a first aid kit? It might do, but I didn’t want to leave the room in case the Joker was lurking around still. He was the last person I wanted to bump into at the moment. I have enough to cope with right now what with Frost bleeding out in front of me.

I was just going to have to be resourceful.

I searched the room for a throw or something to use before my eyes landed on the lavish curtains that hung behind the piano. Bingo.

I moved over to them and picked the heavy material up. How the hell was this going to work? I needed to cut it into pieces somehow. I pulled hopelessly at it, but it was way too thick for me to tear. I returned my eyes to the room once more in search for something - anything - that might help me.

Then I noticed it, slightly hidden beneath the piano. It was the Joker’s switchblade. He must have thrown it to the side when he left. I knelt down and grabbed it before rushing back over to the window. I worked the blade against the fabric, making no indent initially, but eventually the fabric began to fray and I finally began to make progress. After I felt like I had cut deep enough I gather either side in my fists and pulled tightly, creating tension and grinning to myself in triumph as the drapes tore with a satisfy rip.

I used the knife to cut the last resistant edge before I successfully held up my provisional bandage. I hurried back to Frost, pausing when I noticed his eyes were still closed. Was he asleep? Had he passed out? “Uh… Frost?” I asked quietly, “Frost?” I asked a bit louder. He opened his eye, obviously not trying to move anything else. “Um, I have this,” I said, holding up my ribbon of curtain, “Thought it might work as a temporary bandage.” I explained. He looked surprised at the material in my hand but tentatively worked his way back up to a sitting position. He took the piece of curtain from me and raised his arms up to his neck but ended up stopping halfway, hissing at the pain that the movement caused as his muscles contracted. I grimaced in sympathy, trying to think how to help, “Uh, do you want me to do it?” I asked awkwardly, holding my hands out. He looked at me for a moment, seeming to consider his options before he reluctantly handed me back the fabric. I gave him a small forced smile and stepped closer once more, taking a deep breath to try to steady my shaking hands. I really didn’t want to hurt him. I carefully laid it against the wound, glad to see the blood seemed to have thickened and begun to clot. He didn’t move at the pressure but I noticed him tense and his jaw clench against the pain. I swallowed my nerves before gradually wrapping the rest of the material around his neck. I didn’t want to pull it too tight – I didn’t want to hurt him too much, plus I still wanted him to breathe - “Is that alright?” I asked warily.

“Yeah.” Gasped out Frost, and – though I knew he was in pain – I also knew he would endure it without complaint if he thought it would help. I grudgingly accept that I had to cause him the pain and arranged the material so it held. I didn’t know how long it was going to stay like that, but it would have to do for now.

“There we go.” I declared, stepping back from my handiwork. “You lie back down and I’ll see what I can do about the head wound.” He did what I instructed without argument and I had to wonder if the blood loss was finally hitting him.

I headed back to the curtains and cut another strip with the knife before flicking the blade shut and stuffing it into my trouser pocket – just in case I needed it again.

I returned to Frost who was watching me this time. I held up my second piece of fabric, “I don’t think this is really going to work as a bandage, judging by the position of the wound…” I explained, thinking through alternatives. “I think if I just fold it up you could lie back on it and that might be just as I effective.” I suggested, doubling the material over. I moved closer to the couch, “Just try to roll over a bit.” I directed. He did as I said, his face contorting against the stinging. I noticed there was already a bloody patch on the cushion and I placed my folded square over the mark. “Ok.” I signalled and he rolled back. “Perfect.” I muttered to myself, stepping back. That was the best I could do for now. “Uh… Maybe wait here till you’re feeling better? Then we can try to move you to the car? Then I’ll get you to a hospital.” I proposed. He didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes, so I took this as a yes.

I turned around, searching the room with my eyes again as I tried to figure out what to do next. I wasn’t sure what else I could do at the moment so I grabbed one of the wingback chairs and spun it slightly so I could sit and face Frost. I perched on the edge of the seat, my nerves making it difficult for me to sit still, adrenaline still pacing though my body.

Now I had done what I could for Frost the whole situation seemed to hit me. I was in the Jokers house. He was alive. He had been here. He had threatened me with a knife. Then he had kissed me. Now he was gone.

Was he still in the house? Why had he left so abruptly? I stared blankly into space as I thought things threw.

“What happened to you?” Frost croaked, jerking me out of my contemplations. I glanced back over to him and saw his darks eyes now open and watching me.

“Huh? Oh-uh.” I tried to think the best way to explain and felt my cheeks turn red. “I uh – I was a bit stupid.” Frost didn’t say anything to this but kept his eyes on me, waiting for me to continue. So I explained what had happened, how I had got drunk – strongly defending that it was to calm myself – before explaining my interaction with the Joker.

“That’s why your cheek’s bleeding?” He asked, not mentioning my idiotic actions – which I was grateful for. I frowned at him in confusion. Was I bleeding? I brought my hand to my cheek and - sure enough - I could feel a pronounced line running down my left cheek and dry blood under my fingers.

“Uh – yeah I guess.” I said, “What about you? What happened?” I asked, gesturing to his condition as he led on the sofa.

“He jumped me upstairs.” Frost said stiffly, talking through the pain, “Didn’t see him coming.” He admitted, “Came at me with a knife. Then eventually threw me into a wall.” He bit out through clenched teeth, “When I opened my eyes he was gone. So I came looking for you.”

I nodded in understanding and then we fell into silence. I let Frost rest for a few minutes whilst my mind wandered once more. I couldn’t relax whilst we were still in this house and I knew the Joker could enter at any moment. Finally I broke the peace that had fallen over us, “Frost – do you think you’d be ok to move now?” His eyes shot open at his name “Only I’m not sure how safe we are here.” I admitted. He seemed to consider this for a moment.

“Just leave me here, I can sort myself out.”

“No” I snapped defiantly. “You can’t ‘sort yourself out’” I quoted back at him, annoyed, “You need a hospital.” He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and my eyes fell on the square of curtain-bandage that remained on the sofa - noting that it had quickly become sodden in blood.

“Do you really think I can just walk into a hospital?” He asked, clearly slightly amused at the idea. “I’m sort of a criminal.” He stated.

“Fine. But I’m not leaving you here like this!” I exclaimed, quickly trying to think of a better option, “You must have a place you can go. Just tell me where to take you.”

He looked at me, annoyed by my stubbornness, but didn’t bother to fight with me – clearly just wanting to get whatever it was over and done with. “Alright.” He conceded, “Just get me back to Marv’s, he knows what to do.”

I nodded at this, throwing myself onto my feet - glad I had a job once more. “Ok, how are we going to do this?” I asked stood awkwardly before him, not sure what the best thing to do was. Frost slowly pushed himself to his feet and I was worried about how much blood loss he had sustained. He also seemed concerned and took a few hesitant steps, clearly happy with how they went and seemed confident to proceed.

I dodged past him and grabbed the blood-soaked rag that had been my makeshift head bandage, “For in the car.” I explained when he looked at me confused. He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at my mothering.

He made his way out of the room, careful with his movements so as not to move his head too much, but I noticed he reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun as he had earlier. I followed suit and dug into my trouser pocket, pulling out the Joker’s blade that I had stashed there. I flicked it out and held it out in front of me as I followed behind Frost.

There was no need for the weapons however as there was no sign of the Joker in small part of the house we passed through. Once we were out the front door we swiftly moved across the pristine lawn to the SUV still waiting for us on the road. The keys were already in Frost’s hand and he unlocked the it, making for the driver’s side. “Oooooh no!” I called at him, “There is nooo way I am letting you drive!”

“What?” He asked in surprise at my sudden outburst.

I frowned at him in annoyance, “You. Are. Not. Driving!” I snapped, loudly emphasising each word. When he still didn’t hand over the keys I stormed up to him with steely eyes, “You, “ I pointed at him, “are currently suffering from large blood loss, you’re unbalanced, dizzy and probably have a concussion!” I cried in frustration at his stubbornness before sticking my hand out to him, palm up, waiting.

He huffed loudly in annoyance, rolling his eyes once more and reluctantly dropped the keys into my out-stretched hand. I gave him a forced sweet smile, “Thanks!” I sang, abruptly turning and climbing into the driver’s seat. I heard him mumble something before he marched around to the other side of the car. I smirked at my victory as I adjusted the seat and mirrors. He slid in next to me, eyeing me with concern. “I can drive you know.” I told him in an attempt to reassure him.

“We’ll see.” He muttered before turning away from me and positioning himself so he looked out the passenger side window. I frowned at him in annoyance at his lack of trust in any of my abilities.

“It’ll be fiiiiiine!” I drawled, rolling my eyes away from him and onto the wheel in front of me, and starting the engine.

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 30

Hiya Guys,

I can’t believe I am on part 30 and I’ve now been writing for over 4 months! Ahhh! I also can’t believe that people are actually liking and enjoying my writing so thank you guys all so much! i really appreciate it more than you can possibly understand!

Ok anyway here’s the next part, again not 100% happy with it - but I never am! So have it anyway!

I promise I will put some Joker in the next chapter?

Anyway enjoy!

Warnings: Brief mention of suicide

Masterlist

“What is this?” I asked grabbing the phone from Frost’s hand and reading the article - scanning it desperately to find what the headline could possibly mean. There was no main picture with the article, but I knew –from the title alone -it was about the Joker.

My eyes flickered over the large body of text and some of the words seem to stand out in bold to me – ‘…Joker’, ’ …met his demise’, ‘…suicide’, ‘…death’. Panic began to set into my body, my hands becoming clammy, my breaths shorter, and my heart beat unsteady. “Frost what is this?!” I repeated desperately at the screen, not looking at him as I blinked rapidly at the tears pricking at my eyes and blurring my vision.

“Read it.” He simply told me and he too seemed to be struggling with what was on the screen. I took a breath to try to get myself under control and focus on the whole article, now taking my time now to actually read the full page. It was dated from an hour earlier and the words swam and danced in front of me till I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Finally I could read it, “It’s been two weeks since the Arkham escapee ‘The Joker’ was last seen on the streets of Gotham. It is unknown if this lack of activity is signalling the end of his recent run of crime or if another attack is still in the planning.

The GCPD has so far refused to confirm or deny whether they or the Batman have apprehended the clown prince of crime, but - in a surprising twist today – reports have begun to circulate that the jesting villain may have met his demise.

So far no body has been identified but rumours on the streets of Gotham vary- some claiming there was a possible suicide attempt by the well-known psychopath; others claiming it was by the hand of the masked vigilante Batman – but with the clear theme of the psychotic clown’s death.

There has still yet to be any evidence provided to support any of the theories suggested so far and speculation still remains on the Joker’s current whereabouts. The GCPD -

I broke off there, my eyes once again blurring too much as the tears slide down my face. I handed Frost back his phone and I peeked at him through the hair that fell across my eyes – trying to see if I could catch any emotions on his face. He seemed low, his frown more sad than grumpy now, but he showed no obvious distraught unlike me. When I fully raised my head and looked at him properly he met my gaze and there seemed almost pity in his eyes – probably for me and the state I had worked myself into - but also what seemed to be concern – concern for the Joker. What had happened? Was he truly dead? Was I too late to make it to Gotham?

By this point I no longer cared what reason I had given myself to justify returning to Gotham – I could no longer lie to myself that my decision had come from wishing to save innocent civilians who got in his way. Heck, now – if the article was true – they would probably be much safer!

But I no longer cared about them – and had I ever truly? Every last person could die now for all I cared if it would only ensure he was alive. I was a selfish person, making excuses so that I didn’t feel I was an insane little girl running back into the arms of my tormentor.

But now I didn’t care anymore.

I couldn’t lie to myself or anyone else anymore. If there was even a remote chance he was alive I had to know. I had to go to Gotham and find him – dead or alive.

As I had become lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice how shallow my breathing had gotten, how shaky my hands. I began to become detached from everything around me, my head becoming dizzy and cloudy. I became so numb that I didn’t even notice Frost move towards me and I only vaguely acknowledged my knees giving way beneath me.

I never felt myself hit the floor.

When I became conscious once more I was confused.

I couldn’t recall anything from before – what day was it? Did I have a shift? Did my alarm wake me up? Why wasn’t it still chiming?

Then memories began to flow back through my mind – was any of that a dream? I could remember talking to Frost at the door, then him appearing in my living room, then him leaving. Snap shots of recollections playing across my eyelids. I could remember opening the door my front door once more to go searching for Frost, but what then –

The Phone.

The Article.

I snapped my eyes open - the bright light from the surrounding windows causing me to squint. As my eyes adjusted I noticed I was in the passenger seat of a large SUV which Frost appeared to be driving down a long stretch of open highway. I blinked some more in the daylight, my eyes still sore and raw from crying earlier, and watched the farmed fields and occasional town sliding past.

I turned to look across to the driver side where Frost was sat staring straight ahead, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.

He glanced over at me as I pushed myself more upright, shifting in my seat and groaning as I moved -  my neck protested sharply at the change in angle. “Ugh – How long was I out?” I asked, my voice sound croaky from sleep.

“About an hour.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I didn’t know what to say to that, and so a silence fell between us, the only sound in the car coming from the roar of the engine and road. I sat looking forward, watching the brake lights of vehicles in front of us light up as I came to grips with the situation I found myself in and what had happened before I woke up. Why had I fainted?

“Frost.” I started cautiously, sensing his tense mood. “What happened?”

“You had a panic attack.” He informed me, “You blacked out from it.”

Well that was odd. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was little – and never one strong enough to knock me out. I could feel my cheeks warming as I thought about poor Frost left alone to deal with a women who had just fainted in front of him. “I’m sorry.” I muttered humiliated, no longer able to look at him.

“No need to –“ he mumbled uncomfortably and became incoherent over the noise of the road.

We couldn’t look at each now, both a bit self-conscious or embarrassed about the whole thing. I kept my eyes staring out of the passenger window, acutely aware of how red my cheeks must be. I tried to take my mind off it by looking for an indication of where we were, or a road sign telling me where we might be heading.

“Frost.” I started once more, trying to break the awkward silence between us. “Are we going to Gotham?” I asked turning back to him.

He shot a quick look at me to gage how I felt about this before he gave a nod, “Yes.” He confirmed, “And before you start yelling I can explain. I –“

“It’s alright Frost. Don’t worry about it.” I said, interrupting him before he began another long speech in an attempt to convince me that this was the right thing to do. I watched his eyebrows crinkle in confusion as he continued to watch the road.

“You’re not mad that I basically abducted you?” he questioned.

“No.” I said simply like it was no big problem. “I would probably have come anyway.” I admitted, shrugging and looking back out the window. Frost still looked confused and I realised I had never told him about my change in heart about returning to Gotham. “I was going to come find you, by the way.” I clarified, glancing over at his profile, “I changed my mind - I want to go back.”

Any reactions he had to this sudden revelation he chose to keep hidden under his emotionless mask – though I thought I saw a glimpse of relief in his eyes. He was probably glad that I wasn’t going to put up a struggle, not that there was much I could do in a locked vehicle travelling way over the speed limit down a highway in the middle of nowhere.

We fell quiet again, but now that the air was cleared between us it felt more relaxed, almost companionable, and I noticed that Frost’s hands had loosened slightly on the steering wheel. I turned back to my window to watch the world fly by - the sun now almost at its highest point in the sky, though partially hidden behind clouds of different shades that lazily floated by reminding me of the never ending questions that drifted in my mind.

“Uh – Frost?” I said abruptly, getting his attention, “Are we really driving all the way to Gotham?” I knew that would take days - at least 2 days - and that would be without any breaks along the way.

“No.” He answered, glancing in the rear view mirror and signalling to change lanes, “We’re driving to the nearest airport.”

“Oh. Ok.” I acknowledged lamely, not sure what else to say and my courage to ask more was failing me. Though I now felt I knew Frost better, he still continued to intimidate me, at some times more than others and I was very aware that he that the upper hand in this situation – being the driver and actually aware of where we were. Though I had yelled and bullied him back at my house on the farm, I was no longer in my comfort zone – in fact I was probably at least 100 miles from my comfort zone – and I knew it. I no longer felt brave or strong and felt almost completely at Frost’s mercy. I didn’t like it one bit.

To take my mind off these depressing and worrying thoughts I - once again - returned my gaze to the scenery outside my window, took a deep, slightly shaky breath, and considered the reason behind the  current state of things.

There was a good chance the Joker was dead.

There was also a chance he wasn’t.

I was in love with the Joker.

If – upon returning to Gotham city - he was dead I would be heart broken and at a complete loss as to what to do about it.

If he wasn’t, I would be suddenly confronted with a very much alive and – by the sounds of it – much more psychotic joker. And still at a complete loss as to what to do about it.

So I was going into this with no plan what so ever.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. How were we even going to find him? How did Frost know where he would be? Sure he must know the Joker’s hideouts, but what if they changed? What if he was dead? Where would he be then?

“Um, Frost?” I inquired, plucking up the courage to question him once more. He nodded slightly to show he was listening, “Uh – What – what are we doing?” I asked, “What’s the plan here?”

He paused a moment, as if considering the best way to explain it, “We are going back to Gotham to look for the Joker.” He stated matter-of-factly, almost as though I was just another henchman and he was briefing me on our mission.

“Yes…” I drew out, “But… um, how are we going to find him?” I asked, nervously fiddling with my fingers on my lap.

“Our best hope is he’s just laying low at the moment.” Frost informed me, “If that’s the case then there are several hideouts he may be at. We need to head to each one and search them.” He explained, keeping his eyes ahead, not looking at me once. “Hopefully we will find him. I we don’t we may at least get an idea of where he’s gone.”

“How many places are we talking?” I asked, wondering if he was referring to 3 buildings or 50.

“A lot.” He said simply. I gulped, there goes at least my next week probably – and I wasn’t sure how much time we had left – if any.

“That’ll take forever.” I pointed out.

“You got a better idea?” He asked sarcastically, raising one eyebrow and glancing over at me. I thought about it for a bit, turning away from him to watch the white road marks slide by as I thought. There had to be a better way, a quicker, more efficient way to do this. But how was I supposed to know?

And so I spent the rest of the drive pondering different options to keep my mind from other things.

At the airport I awkwardly followed Frost around, not really knowing what his plan was to get us on a plane that would leave within the next 30 minutes.

Somehow – god knows how but I believe it involved a large sum of money – he managed to secure us 2 tickets - both 1st class too, I noted as I glanced at the ticket he handed to me. How much money did this man have?!

I had never sat in first class before – surprise, surprise – and I felt like an imposter sat in their curtain off area in a plush reclining bed-chair, each with their own private screen. Why did we have to sit in 1st class?! It was like a half an hour flight – barely enough time to have the complimentary drink! I didn’t touch the sparkling water I order, too anxious to enjoy any of the luxuries that lay before me, instead I stared out the round little port hole window at the wispy clouds and blue sky, thinking about everything I would have to deal with when we eventually landed.

I was still hopeless trying to figure out a way we could find the Joker quicker – but how was I supposed to know what to do? I didn’t know their whole operation or how things ran – how was I going to know if there was a better idea? Sure, if Frost was talking to a henchman at least they would know a bit more about everything that went on – they might actually be able to give a useful sug-.

“Frost!” I called across the aisle, where he sat reading his phone screen. He looked up at me, frowning and clearly a bit surprised at my sudden wish to talk when I had been completely silent since we’d gotten out of the car. “Do you know any henchman that might have been with the Joker?” I asked hopefully.

“There were some guys still around when I left. Why?” he asked, crinkling his forehead in confusion.

“Could you ring any of them?” I inquired excited by my brain wave and not answering his question.

“I don’t have their numbers.” He informed me, returning his gaze to his phone, “It’s all part of security. No one has anyone numbers – expect the boss - in case anyone is caught and might compromise our operation.” He explained.

“Oh.” I mumbled, feeling deflated that my idea failed, but I supposed it made sense. “So how do you communicate?” I asked – just generally interested now.

“Radios.” He said simply without looking up.

“Ok…” I said, drawing it out as I tried to think of a way to rework my plan, “Do you know where any of them live?” He looked back up - seeming to be intrigued with where I was going with this

“Yeah. It’s my job to know.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Well, why don’t we go see a couple of them first?” I proposed, “Ask them if they have any ideas where to try? It might limit the number of sites we have to hit?” I suggested a bit nervously now – self-conscious by his full sudden full interest in what I was saying and worried it was a ridiculous idea – why else wouldn’t he have come up with it?

He seemed to consider if for a bit – looking for the flaws in my plan. “Yeah. Maybe.” He eventually admitted before once again becoming glued to his phone screen. We remained in silence for the rest of the flight.

I stuck to Frost like glue when we disembarked the plane – not entirely sure what we were going to do next. I followed him as we fought our way through those heading for luggage collection and out into a large main hall. Frost strode forward through the crowd, people parting before him, whilst I followed behind like a second shadow in the space left behind. I watched the people that milled around the large hall - men with briefcases, women in tight pencil skirts and heels, young children with brightly coloured rucksacks and crew members dressed in their varying uniforms.

Eventually the signs overhead seemed to suggest that Frost was leading me in the direction of taxis, trains, buses and car rentals and I soon found myself stepping out of the elevator into the airport’s multi-storey car park.

“Wait here.” Frost ordered me as we entered the third floor of parked cars. I frown at his back in confusion at his command as he continued to walk away from me, but did as he said – remaining by the entrance.

I watched him as he walked down past the row of cars, moving in and out of the small dim spotlights that illuminated small circles of the tarmac floor. He kept turning his head slightly either way as he checked the surroundings, finally stopping side of a SUV similar to what we had previously travelled in, although this one appeared to be a deep blue colour. He moved down the side of the car and stopped so he faced the driver’s door. I couldn’t see what he was doing as his actions hidden by the rows of cars between me and him, but he seemed to be fiddling with something in front him, his arms moving in jerks and tweaks.

All of a sudden he pulled back and then tried the car door, and I was amazed when it opened. Did he already have the keys for it? Then he slid into the driver’s seat and sat there for a few more moments appearing to now be toying with something in the car. All of a sudden the car’s engine roared and erupted into life. Was he stealing that car?!

He closed the driver’s door behind him and drove out of the space before pulling up next to me. When I didn’t move from my frozen state on the pavement he leant across the car to push open the passenger door. “Get in.” He grunted curtly at me. I hesitated only for a second before doing as instructed. He quickly accelerated away before I had even closed the door and I gripped my seat tightly to make sure I didn’t fly out of the chair as I heard the tyres screech beneath me.

When I finally felt secure, the door now closed and my seatbelt finally fastened, I turned to look at his profile as he drove out of the car park. “Did you just steal a car?!” I demanded.

“Didn’t have time to arrange one.” He said gruffly, not looking at me. When I didn’t say anything he glanced at me and must have noticed the shock still on his face, “Oh come on, you can’t be that surprised.” He muttered, clearly annoyed at how long it was taking for me to adjust to the fact that he was a criminal and therefore did criminal things.

I shook my head in amazement about how relaxed he was about what he had just done had, but decided there was no point in trying to get him to understand that his actions weren’t actually legal – this was probably not the first time he had done this, and I doubted it would be the last.

Instead I moved my gaze to the window, watching the different cars that lined us on either side slide past in the pools of artificial light, trying to come to terms with sitting in a stolen car and being yet another accomplice to a crime.

Eventually we emerged into the light of the day - though there wasn’t much of it.

Gotham was just exactly as I remembered it, as I gazed out of my tinted window, the same gloomy skies and dirty streets, the same noisy traffic rushing past and people pushing their way through crowds in their thick coats. Home I thought as Frost drove us through the streets, the tall imposing office buildings towering over us. It was home and I had truly missed it - only really realising it now that I was back in the comfort of its familiarity.

After having drunk in the sights around me I turned back to Frost, “So where are we going?”

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 27

Ok, next part’s ready-ish!

I’m sorry if Frost isn’t great or out of character - I don’t really know his character particularly well so I kind of made it up.

I’ve changed and edited this quite a bit, so sorry if there’s any inconsistencies or anything like that!

Enjoy! :) 

Masterlist

I slid into the seat across from Frost and looked over at him. He looked back, but neither of us spoke and I could feel a tightness forming in my chest from nerves of the situation. How was I going to explain any of this?

I couldn’t hold eye contact with the burly man in front of me, my courage soon giving out and I dropped my eyes to the battered wooden table between us, studying the cracks and dents that littered the top. I fidgeted with my hands, folded and unfolding them before laying the awkwardly in my lap, never usually this self-aware and so unsure what I usually did with them.

“Can I have my phone back now?” Asked Frost, finally breaking the silence and causing me to lift my gaze from what I suspected was a sticky puddle of spilt drink on the table.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I mumbled, digging into my trouser pocket to pull out his phone before sliding it across the table toward him. He grunted a thanks at me and turned his attention to the little gadget as the silence reformed around us.

Now he wasn’t looking at me I gained a bit of my confidence back and, keeping my face down at the table, I peeked up through my eyelashes at him. From what I could see of him he looked exhausted. He hadn’t bothered to smooth any of his clothing disarray I had noticed earlier and the bags under his eyes screamed for a good night sleep.

I wondered how long it had been since he had quit – if he truly had – from the Joker. How long had he been travelling to get here? And why was he here? What were the chances of him coming to this tiny town exactly when I was here? Was it chance or did he know something – and did that mean that the Joker knew? Had he been sent here to get me? I began to feel the panic building in my body. My plan must have failed somehow, I must have not accounted for something, something that now meant everyone knew! But what would happen now? If the Joker knew would he drag me back to Gotham? Was that Frost was here for? But the Joker didn’t care about me anymore, had he told Penguin?  Would Penguin bring me back or kill me for breaching our contract?!

I could feel my heart physically pounding in my chest and my breath was short as I alarmed myself thinking through all possible outcomes. Maybe if I could get away now I could make it back to my place and leave before anyone realised? I could go into hiding and keep moving between places so they would never catch up to me.

That sounded exhausting though. I had done it briefly after leaving Gotham and had hated it – never settling, the constant worry as to where to go next.

“If you’re thinking of running, don’t.” muttered Frost, his voice almost sounding bored – like this was something he had to repeat a lot. He hadn’t looked up from his phone screen, but clearly sensed my agitation from across the table. “No one can run forever. We always catch up.” He said ominously, typing something onto his phone. “Not that there is a ‘we’ anymore.” He murmured to himself, pushing a final button before slipping the device it into an inside pocket of his jacket.

I didn’t say anything to this, I just watched his every movement, tensed for whatever he might do next – for him to explain everything or just simply pull a gun on me.

Why hadn’t I thought of any of this earlier when I had first saw him? I would have had plenty of time to get away, but instead I had got too hung up on the fact that it was good to see a familiar face, especially one that reminded me of him.

Why did it only occur to me what a bad idea this was when I was sat opposite to Frost?!

I didn’t want to take my eyes off him in case I missed something important, but I could tell the pub was now basically empty as it was close to closing. Great no witnesses I thought sarcastically.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but it didn’t help and my insides felt tight and twisted. I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on! Or just bloody kill me!” I blurted out, almost screaming at him from my nerves and fears getting the better of me. Frosts eyes shot open in surprise at my sudden outburst.

“Kill you?” He repeated in confusion, “I have no over powering desire to kill you [Y/N].” he stated, trying to provide a bit of comfort to me, but it did nothing to soothe my already tightly wound nerves.

“Then pleeeasssee!” I dragged out in a beg, “Just tell me what you want from me, or what you’re going to do!” I cried in desperation, and slight hysteria. He looked at me like I’d lost my slightly lost my mind, but then his face turned to one of puzzlement, before he looked away from me in thought.

“To be honest [Y/N], I don’t know.” He admitted, with a shrug of his shoulder, looking out into the centre of the empty room. “I wasn’t expecting to actually find you here.”

It was my turn to look confused now. “What do you mean?” I muttered quietly.

Frost ran one of his hands through his short hair, scratching the back of his head as he seemed to think about how to explain. “Well to start with you were supposed to be dead.” he pointed out. “After that...” He trailed off, letting out a life that signalled his exhaustion was getting to him.

He truly didn’t seem to know what was going on any more than I did, and he didn’t seem to want to hurt me either. This gave me a bit of comfort and meant I could focus a bit better, the blood pumping through my veins not feeling as strong as before.

I could see now however, that if I wanted answers I was going to have to ask them. “So…” I started, searching for what I wanted to know first, “You truly don’t work for the Joker anymore?” I hesitated before I said his name, and still felt my heart jump a when I said it.

Frost finally faced me again, “No. I don’t.” He said simply. I rolled my eyes and sighed. This was going to be a long night if this was the best answer he could give.

“Why?” I pushed him.

He narrowed his eyes at me slightly, “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I knew you were listening in.”

“Well yeah, I just wasn’t 100% sure it was the truth, or if you missed anything out…” I trailed off and looking away in embarrassment that it had been so obvious I was eavesdropping.

It was ‘100% true’”, he quoted back mockingly, “Boss- I mean - he, he’d gotten even worse than usual  He’s just been carelessly destroying things without rhythm or reason.” He explained, I raised an eyebrow at him, “I know he doesn’t seem like he usually has a reason anyway, but it’s usually for a joke to him or some sort of long term plan of his. But recently. It’s for nothing.”

“So that’s why you left?” I asked as I leant forward in interest, folding my arms on the table.

“Sort of. I’ve just been nothing but a getaway vehicle on the off-chance he survived recently. He rarely ever gives me any orders other than to wait in the car and never calls for backup anymore. If he can’t handle the situation he doesn’t even care, he just stays in there, waiting to be overwhelmed. If it wasn’t for the fact I automatically follow after him now, he’d have been landed in Arkham on every mission - or worse.” Frost shook his head slightly at this and ran his hand back through his hair, “I’m pretty sure if he got thrown in that damn Asylum again he wouldn’t even bother to break out anymore.” He admitted twisting in his chair so he faced the rest of the pub instead of me.

“As much as I’m just hired muscle and he’s just a psychotic clown I can’t stand by and watch him become suicidal.” Confessed Frost who seemed to be staring at a table across the room - though I was sure he wasn’t actually seeing it, but instead reliving the past few missions he had done with the Clown Prince.

I nodded as he spoke; I understood that for Frost - as much as he wouldn’t admit it – there was almost a kind of friendship there, in a weird kind of way. I didn’t know what I could say to provide support or consolation, and I was almost certain Frost didn’t want any comfort I would offer. Men.

We fell back into an awkward silence – at least it was awkward for me, Frost still seemed to be in a world of his own. I fidgeted in my seat and fiddled with my hands that still lay in my lap – I needed to keep the conversation going.

“Uh – so how is it that he hasn’t?” Frost glanced over his shoulder at me, “You-know – got caught yet?” I clarified lamely.

Frost shrugged his shoulders, and returned his gaze to the rest of the pub, “I really don’t know – it’s pure chance. He will soon, if he hasn’t already.”

“How long ago did you leave?”

Frost paused and considered this. “3 days ago.”

I was surprised by this. That meant he couldn’t have stopped anywhere else – he came straight to this little town. “You came straight here?” He nodded without looking around at me. “Why?”

He turned back around to face me again, crossing his arms – he seemed glad to have changed the subject and had resorted back to his usual self. “I got a call.”

I raised an eyebrow in annoyance at his vagueness, “From…?” I pressed.

“A girl. She said she had met someone who had over reacted about the Joker – practically defended him - and who seemed pretty attached to the clown. She wanted to know why. Seemed like someone who was quite keen on a good gossip.”

I sat up straight, my hands falling back into my lap. No. It couldn’t have been.

“What was her name?” I asked through gritted teeth, my temper flaring and I clenched my hands into fists beneath the table.

“Don’t really recall – didn’t seem that important.” He looked at my face and read the anger there, “I don’t know, maybe Harriet? Hannah?”

Hannah. Bitch. I couldn’t believe her! Was this before or after we’d had our talk about not bringing it up again?! Did it really matter? It was still low to go digging around in my past – she could have ruined everything! “I knew I should have bloody killed her.” I grumbled to myself, not really meaning it.

“What?” Shot Frost, clearly having heard what I had muttered. I blushed at his sudden interest.

“Uh- it’s nothing. I may have had an urge, or two, at one point, but it’s fine.” I stuttered out, trying to brush it off as a silly little incident, but I could see Frost was more alert now. I tried to move the subject on, “So, uh, did she say anything else?”

Frost eyed me and I could tell he knew I was trying to avoid the subject, but he let it slide anyway. “Well I did the usual background check on her –a random small town girl somehow getting hold of my phone number was suspicious – so I questioned her about all of that.”

“And?”

“Nothing - she’s just very dedicated to her gossip.” I noticed Frosts lip turn up a bit in a slight smirk and I rolled my eyes at him. “After that I was interested about what she was so desperate to know about.” He confessed, “I had no idea it was you she was talking about. The idea of someone raving about the Clown Prince of Crime, or even defending him didn’t immediately make me think of you.” I blushed because – of course – I had. “I asked for the name anyway, but of course it wasn’t you.”

That was true, it wouldn’t have been. I had formed a whole new identity for myself to prevent exactly this happening – any rumours or gossip finding their way back to Gotham.

“The only part that gave me any indication it might be you was her description. She described the ‘person’ before she even told me anything else – it was the only reason I let her prattle on so long. It fit you exactly. But then, of course after that, nothing else added up.” He stopped then, not saying anything else.

“So? What’s that got to do with anything?” I asked frustrated - still confused how this meant he ended up here.

“Well this happened whilst I was still working for him. We were both working under the fact that you were dead – though no one had yet to recover a body. So this story just seemed impossible to be you – you’re not the only one that can look like that,” he gestured at me with a wave of his hand. “So I dropped it. Didn’t even bother telling the Boss.” Frost shrugged. “Then I left him and needed some place to go, start again. I remember the name of the town that girl – Hannah?” I nodded silently, “yeah, she mentioned this town before I hung up on her – I guess it stuck in my head.” He said simply.

“So you didn’t actually come looking for me?”

“No. Had no idea that you were actually alive, let alone here.” He exclaimed, “I guess I just thought it was a good place to start at before I figured out what I was going to do.”

I sat leant backwards in my chair, throwing my head back. This was a lot of information in a very brief time and it was overwhelming me. Frost appeared to have woken up with his story telling and seemed to have a new lease of life, but I was now exhausted.

I scrubbed my face with my hands, trying to keep myself going, and get all this information straight. “Wait,” I said suddenly, swinging my head forward to look at Frost again, “You say that you left him, did you tell him or did you just – you-know – leave?”

Frost raised an eyebrow at me as if I’d just asked the stupidest question he’d ever heard, “Have you ever tried to tell him something?” I got his point and nodded my head at this. He let out a loud breath, “No, I didn’t tell him. I left early one morning.” He paused, “Truthfully I don’t think he would have listened if I’d told him.”

“That explains your drinking earlier.” I teased with a small smile, he looked at me like I wasn’t the least bit funny, but his eyes were light so I knew he wasn’t really annoyed, “I’m not proud, “ he started, “but you’d do the same if you’d just up and left the bloody Joker – he’s not been known to take kindly to deserters.”

I nodded and made noises in agreement - yeah I could understand that perfectly. We lapsed into silence again, but it felt more comfortable now – both of us having cleared the air somewhat between us. I leant forward again, leaning my elbows on the table so I could put my chin on my hands, resting my now heavy head.

I could feel my eyes getting heavy and I closed them for some relief. This was a weird night alright, my life felt like, once again, it had been spun upside down. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Frost to suddenly turn up, but then I never imagined Hannah to seek him out! I sat up at the reminder of the betrayal, clenching my fists again – but wasn’t it my fault for being do ridiculous over a newspaper article? A small voice in the back of my mind said. Suddenly I felt my head falling to the side and my arm nearly gave way beneath me. I shot up quickly blinking rapidly in surprise that I was not sat upright with clenched fists.

“Alright. I’m calling it a night.” I said unequivocally, pushing myself to my feet abruptly and losing my balance slightly, catching myself on the table. Frost sat up slightly, from where he too had been slumping.

“I suppose you’re right – you do look like you’re about to drop.” He stated, rising from his seat to join me by the table. I looked over at him annoyed that he was picking on me like I was weak little girl.

“Oh, and you the picture of coping?” I asked rhetorically, gesturing him up and down. He looked down at himself at his crinkled, untucked shirt, creased jacket and loose hanging tie. I was certain I caught a slight look of embarrassment but he quickly hid it behind his calm mask. He didn’t say anything in retort.

He followed me as I made my way out of the pub. I waved at the evening cleaning lady as I left who waved back surprised there was still someone in the building other herself, and became even more surprised when she noticed the well-built, intimidating man following on behind me.

I stopped outside the entrance and turned to Frost, “I presume you have a place to stay?”

“I was planning to find a place for the evening.” He informed me and I rolled my eyes at him again.

“Well good luck with that.” I said without hesitation, giving him a cheerful smile. If he seemed phased that I hadn’t offered help or shelter, he quickly hid it, only lingering on the spot for a few moments before he headed in the opposite direction, further into the town centre. “Well goodnight.” I muttered sarcastically into the darkness as I headed home.

When I finally closed my front door behind me, I found myself breaking down into tears. Everything today had slowly been winding me tighter and tighter, and - now in the comfort of my own home - I felt like I could finally let out the breath I had been holding since the start of my shift when I had seen Frost.

They weren’t tears of sadness, just tears of no longer having the energy to control anything, tears that contained every emotion I had experienced that day – shock, relief, joy, fear, and anger – everything all finally pouring out of me.

I managed to find the energy to deadbolt as well as lock my door tonight – never having done so because, well, would I in a town where the only crime was too high a price on the local vegetable stand? But now - if people from my past were going to start reappearing - I no longer felt as safe.

When I finally collapsed into bed - though my mind continued to whirl with thoughts and worries - it wasn’t long before exhaustion won over and I sunk into a dreamless sleep.