Tonight, You're Gonna Break Your One Rule

My wrist throbbed in pain when the Joker tore the handcuff from it and threw them next to me on the sofa. He looks at me for a second, my toned down makeup glistening slightly from the sheen of sweat I'd acquired, my left leg twitching compulsively with the tension running through me and the death left behind us. My right hand seems to burn from the way my hand had moulded itself so readily to the gun, and my fingers seemed to scream at me, I'd wanted to pull the trigger.

But not at the Joker, oh no, at all the people round us. Black had run through my veins again for a split second back then, and my rationale immediately made me drop it. I wanted to hurt everyone who stood up against him, and why?

I didn’t know.

I stare back at him then, his make up slightly misaligned, his smirk less evident as he stares at me, trying to find out what I'm thinking. I mentally block all my thoughts from him, knowing that if he got in my brain he'd have a field day, opening old wounds of old memories and releasing an altogether darker persona I'd locked away a long time ago.

Without a word, he stares, keeps staring, just looking at me and drinking in every detail. His lip twitches, as if he's going to say something, then the red jolts again, this time in disgust, and I know something is coming. His eyes seem to burn, fire lighting every inch of him, cloaking him in a sickening mystery I want to throw myself into.

"Get out."

He turns away and I see his shoulders shudder just a little. I'm on my feet, my body all too aware of every little thing around me. My body is devoid of all adrenaline and energy, so fear laps into my cells as easy as waves on the beach, "Why?"

"Because I cant stand to look at you." He spits, still turned away. His posture turns to stone and the fingers of his right hand convulse.

"Joker..." I can barely hear my own voice but he can, since his right hand twitches again, and in a second his shoes have twisted on the carpet. His right arm flies up and his knuckles rap me across the cheek. I scream out and stumble back but he's there, pulling on my throbbing wrist so I'm up again, only for his fist to again connect with my flesh, this time on the side of my neck, and pain blossoms in red welts. His grip on my wrist tightens and something pops. I shriek again, trying to voice how much pain I'm in. His knee meets my stomach, just catching a rib and pain shoots through me again. I keep shrieking, wondering if anyone can hear me.

I look up and ruby red lips are pressed into a tight line, his eyes are still burning with that fire, but showing no other emotion. His chest heaves a little, but nothing compared to mine as my lungs retch for oxygen and I feel myself choking as I carry on screaming. His fist meets my cheek again and it splits, blood touching the corner of my already ruby mouth. I keep screaming, until his knee meets my ribcage particularly hard and I'm winded.

I stop, tears mingling with the blood, and my body hunches over, crying for its release. He drags me over the door, and throws me through it's open frame. I fall onto the ground, hands and knees, my body convulsing in fear and sheer agony.

"I said get out! He roars, clenching his ruby fists, "Never, ever question me!"

He slams the door with a bang, so I'm surprised the wood didn’t splinter. My body is aching for sleep and repair, but all my mind can think of is getting away from the inhuman... thing on the other side of that door. I pull myself up, my leg giving way slightly from one particularly hard kick, my ribs aching and twinging with every step. My cheek is bleeding, blood running across my lips so I can taste old pennies in the back of my throat. I limp towards the room I remember as Adams, and bang on the door with my good hand. I fall through it as Adam answers, and I'm glad the room is empty.

"Pixie?" He holds me quickly and leads me to his bed, where I collapse and lick my split lips, "What's he done to you?"

I shake my head, unable of words for now, but Adam gets up and returns a second later with a first aid box. He's obviously been told where everything is, unlike me. He was a goon, meaning he was one of them now, but I wasn’t, I was far from that. I was a nothing, I wasn’t important here. I was a ghost of a person huddled in a corner, haunting memories and painted faces burning my eyelids.

He cleans up the split on my cheek, placing a plaster over the cut. I wince when his fingers secure it, and he whispers softly that it won't scar, hopefully. He tries to help me sit up, my brain retreating into a trance like state. My mouth forms words and I wince, letting a gasp slip through the remainder of makeup and blood, as my ribs move and the bruised skin bends.

"Where else did he hit you?" Adam says, his eyes a little darker than usual, anger oozing through them calmly.

"Ribs," I mutter, and Adams ice fingers slowly move my top, to reveal the already yellow bruises, black spreading throughout the tangled web of tattooed pain. I wince as Adam voices his shock. His fingers carefully touch my skin, and his brows convulse into a frown as he lowers my shirt.

"I can't do anything about that Pixie, you'll just have to wait for them to heal."

I nod, and frown myself, the pressure across my forehead almost unbearable. I needed sleep, my body needed to rest. But I was afraid of the Joker seeing me sleeping on Adams bed again.

"I need sleep." I say, my voice sore from screaming, "Will you wake me up in a while, I don’t want him seeing me sleeping here again."

Adam nods, just once, and instead of wrapping his arms around me, he simply kisses my forehead, and sits at the end of the bed. I finally feel a little safe, and drift off into a painful sleep plagued with nightmares again.

I wake with a start when Adam shakes my shoulder carefully. I suck in a lungful of air as my eyes fly open, and Adam speaks quickly, his voice low and careful, "He's looking for you."

I sit up, wide awake, swing my legs onto the floor and stand, ignore the twinges of pain spreading through my torso. I exit the room carefully and find the Joker at the other end of the hall, just closing a door.

"There you are Precious," He coos, his strangely uneven strides bringing him quickly towards me. I back away, the twinges of pain reminding me of what he'd done despite his smile now.

"Don’t," I say quickly, breathing heavy, taking a small step backwards.

"Don’t what Precious?" He whispers, backing me against the wall. My back hits concrete and I hiss, the contact sending shots of pain through me..

"Hurt me."

He throws his head back at that, and his laughter, pure, unadulterated laughter, fills the air, as if nothing has ever been more amusing.

"Hurt you?" His voice is high and filled to the brim with mockery, "Hurt you?" He stops laughing then, his voice deadly serious, "I would never hurt you! That wasn't hurt. Hurt is the kind of thing that stays with you forever, it never ever goes away, it never ever gets better." He walks away, towards his room, and my body follows him, "Come on." He looks back to make sure I'm following him, "I'm just preparing you for the hurt you'll feel sooner or later around here."

I don’t listen to a word, not realising their impact, since every little bit of almost respect I'd got for this man had disappeared the moment he hit me. I'd almost been able to tolerate him until then, I might've been able to get by, but not now.

I sit down and stay silent on the duvet left on the sofa. I stare into space, not thinking, not seeing the Joker take off his jacket like he usually does.

"Did you enjoy today?" He asks, mockery clear in his voice. I clench my fists a little on the cushions.

He turns to me when he gets no answer, his anger for me now gone, no, he was tormenting me now.

"Did you like holding that gun?" I clench my fists tighter, "Did you like their screams?" He takes a step closer and my fists clench even more, "Did you like how scared they were," A step closer, so he's in my face, "How scared they were of you?"

I rip the edge of the sofa, the stuffing coming loose in my fists as he crouches in front of me.

"My, my," He looks at my hands, then up at my face. I move my gaze so I'm looking over his shoulder, my eyes burning with tears and hate. His voice becomes soft in his throat and barely leaves his still ruby lips, "Look at me," I refuse, staring at the small dent in the wall I hadn’t noticed before. His hand flies to my chin and he digs his fingers in, "Look. At. Me."

He forces me to look at him, and I let out a little 'eep' of fear. His eyes, now dull but still blackened, dance across my face. They land on the plaster Adam had carefully applied to my cheek. His tongue wets his lips a little and he looks back at me.

"What's this?" He jabs a still gloved finger at my cheek, and I yelp, my body jolting in pain. He lets go of my chin but now I cant look away, his gaze paralysing me and icing my spine with constant shivers.

"I don’t like these," He fingers the edge of the plaster, "Not one bit, no, no, it has to go." Without warning he rips the plaster away and I cry out even more. I feel a small trickle of blood run down my cheek since the plaster had taken the top layer of skin with it. My hand goes to fly to my cheek but the Joker holds both my wrists down at my sides.

"Don’t ever hide it," His voice is harsh and dangerous and I whimper helplessly, "Don’t ever, ever hide what I do to you, never. And do you know why?"

I shake my head meekly, "No."

"Because you're mine, Precious, like I said. I'm looking after you. I'm getting you used to this thing you call pain, so when you truly, truly are hurt, you can deal. I'm looking after you Precious, don’t forget that."

He raises a hand, and pulls off the dark leather glove on the other. He throws it aside and his hand is oddly tan compared to his face. I half expected all of him to be that pale. His reaches up with his first finger and runs it down the contour of my cheekbone. I suck in a huge breath at his touch, and my back straightens as my spine is frozen. His gaze only makes me shiver, but his touch, skin on skin, makes my entire body erupt into goose pimples. I suddenly feel really, really cold.

His breath washes onto my cheek, he's that close, and quicker than I could comprehend a torrent of something rushes through my body. My eyelids fall heavy and my limp form falls into him.

"I'm looking after you Precious."