Status: i'm abroad right now, so it'll be difficult to upload chapters - i'm still writing them though :')

Crossroads

not one for politics

The Joker had oh-so-graciously left after that, flicking off the light switch and leaving her spread-eagled on the floor, staring into the darkness and wondering if she was ever going to make it out here alive. Probably not, but the idea of dying no longer filled her stomach with cold, viscous dread. Sure, living was obviously preferable, but out of the two things that had been keeping her going (kyle and revenge), one had been royally fucked.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” she muttered, “There are worse things than betrayal.”

Like what had happened barely a week ago. Her muscles trembled slightly, an echo of the pain and terror he had inflicted on her, and she grimaced. Physical pain had always struck her more deeply than emotional pain – sure, physical pain hurt more in the literal sense, but there was also physical evidence of it. Maybe that was it, a sense of pride - it was easy to hide emotional pain, but the weakness of her body was so blatantly paraded around. Celebrated by the people she hated most.

A grim smile broke out across her face.

Image

Kyle came down for her eventually, informing her that she was being relocated. Her heart lightened – anything was better than this stinking basement, where the memories of her own screams still echoed off the gritty walls.

“Kyle,” she murmured as he wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet, “What kind of politics are keeping me alive?”

The arm stiffened slightly. “Honestly? Not great ones.”

“Go figure.”

A heavy silence, as he pushed open the basement door with an ominous metallic groan. The stairs leading to the first floor were made of dirty, rusty metal, lit by the flickering florescent bulb above. It was honestly horror-movie cliché, and she snorted at the thought of the Joker picking this place out just for that reason.

“Hey…” Hayley blinked, drawn out of her train of thought by Kyle’s voice. “Are you okay?”

What a stupid question.

“Swell.” She scoffed, gaze flickering down to her ratty top, stained an unfortunate rusty colour. “Have I broken anything?”

“I’ll check once we’re upstairs.” He assured her.

Upstairs seemed like it would never come, the glacial pace they were moving.

“Can we go a little faster?” the muscles in her neck quivered as she strained to see through the ajar door ahead.

“Fine.” He began to tug her along more than support her now, hand gripping her elbow – although not at the bruising degree the Joker had.

Soon they were out of that horrible place, and she could’ve cried when she felt real sunlight – not the harsh, artificial fluorescent light, or the velvety darkness – warm her cheeks, for the first time in days.

She sniffed, and Kyle looked at her inquisitively. Panicking slightly, Hayley cleared her throat and blinked a few times, the tears fading with her efforts. Thank god.

“You should probably eat something.”

Hayley had accounted the terrible pain in her stomach for bruising – she hadn’t even though that maybe she was hungry, until those words elicited a tremendous groan from the pit of her stomach. She had been allowed water, and in her stupor she had forgotten the other necessity.

“Shit. How long was I down there?”

Kyle tugged her down the hallway, away from the narrow window streaming sunlight – Hayley’s mood dropped considerably – and into the first room on the right.

“About four days. Not long at all.”

Kyle’s front teeth were currently wearing away his bottom lip. He looked nervous. The Kyle she had been introduced to in this place was so different from the assured, almost cocky Kyle she had first met. Although, she supposed when working with the Joker, you were probably constantly walking on eggshells.

“I think he may be in there. Please don’t do anything stupid.” He hissed, palm pressed flat against the door.

“Wow, what the fuck did you think I was gonna do? Somersault towards him like some fucking ninja?” She hissed back. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I can barely walk up a flight of fucking stairs.”

She lost control of her language, among other things (like common sense), when she was angry. Kyle noticed this, and muttered “sorry, sorry, I know.” In an attempt to pacify her.

He reluctantly opened the door then, ushering Hayley inside, before closing the door behind her and immediately walking off in the other direction. Hayley spun around as she heard the door click.

"What the fuck, Kyle?"

She turned back around and scowled as she spotted the back of his faded green hair. He was sitting on the broken grey couch to the right of her. There was a TV there, too, but it was only displaying static. She didn't know what he was doing over there, and she wasn't enthused about finding out.

Eyes trained on his head, she edged towards the table, stretching out her hands in an attempt to feel her way around the place. It may be a bit of a melodramatic reaction, but she didn't want to turn her back on him.

"Is your master plan to stare me to death?"

"Why would I tell you what my master plan is?" she retorted.

He scoffed, and her eyes narrowed. He seemed to be in a good mood, and as capricious as the Joker was, she risked turning her back in order to open every cabinet she could reach - she wasn't a short girl, just unable to stretch the extra inch without her ribcage protesting violently.

She nearly screamed in frustration when she found absolutely nothing. Five cabinets, two drawers, and nothing but a disgusting-looking, rusty fork and an empty Pablo's Pizza box.

"I can't fucking believe this." she muttered; her stomach felt like it was going to rip itself to shreds.

It was then that she heard an audible snicker, that instantly sent her blood boiling.

"Can I help you?" she huffed.

"I have a game." he sing-songed.

"No."

"It wasn't a question, doll." he turned around to face her, dark eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'll hum a song, and for every one you get right, I'll give you some food."

"I'm not really the gambling type."

"Liar."

She sat down on the nearest chair to her, attempting to cross her arms but finding the pain to be just a little too much. "Fair enough. What happens if I don't get it?"

The Joker chewed on the inside of his cheek, staring up at the ceiling as if deep in thought. "How aboutt... I cut off one of your fingers?"

Hayley clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the reaction she knew he wanted. "How many songs?"

"Three." he emphasised it by raising the correct amount of fingers. "Magic number."

"Time limit?"

"Varies depending on my mood."

"What if I don't accept?"

"Then you starve, duh." he rolled his eyes. "Are you done boring me with your questions?"

"Almost." she swallowed. "If I do an extra song and get it right, will you give me back his watch?"

A fiendish grin spread across his face, but he quickly hid it with an innocent expression. "His?"

"You know very well who I'm talking about."

"Okay, I'll bite." he grabbed the back of the couch and leant forward, horrible grin dominating his face again. "But, if you get it wrong, the whole arm comes off."

Bile rose in her throat at the thought, and she swallowed again. Maybe if it had been any other man she was playing with, she would have accepted.

"You would just make it insanely hard, wouldn't you? Or just hum a tune that doesn't exist?"

"Who knows? I'm an enigma." he drawled, leaning his cheek against one hand, white paint flaking off underneath his knuckles.

The deafening silence that followed answered the question that the Joker hadn't even asked yet. He asked it anyway.

"So, my original rules then?"

Bitterness gnawing away in her stomach, Hayley agreed.

"That's more like it!" he jumped up from the couch, waltzing over to the table and plopping himself down on the seat opposite her.

"This is ridiculous." she stated bluntly.

"My house, my rules." he shrugged off his purple trench coat, and rolled up his sleeves, as if preparing himself for something big. She almost wanted to laugh. Almost.

"I don't want to be in your house. You kidnapped me and beat me up."

"Stop whining," he sneered, even though this was the first time she had whined (to him at least). "I should be getting a thank you - all those bruises really make your eyes pop. He made a strange clenching gesture with his fists, as if he was physically popping out her eyeballs, before letting out a short, amused cackle.

Practically growling, she spat out a very intricate string of swear words - the suffocating emotions rendering her unable to say anything intelligent in response.

"Is that your way of saying thank you?"

She bristled.

"Start the damn game."

He started off easy, humming the tune to Ba Ba Black Sheep. When she answered correctly he stood up, opened the cabinet she couldn't quite reach, pulled out a small packet of biscuits, and chucked it at her wordlessly. She wolfed them down immediately, still watching him warily as he reclaimed his seat opposite her.

It began to get more complicated after that, especially considering he wasn't a very good hummer. When she commented on that, he glared at her and just said "your time to guess is cut in half now."

"I don't even know how long that is!" she cried exasperatedly.

"It's half what it was before." he deadpanned.

"Can I hear it again?"

He obliged, surprisingly enough, but it was no more clearer the second time around. The frustrating thing was that it sounded familiar, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. Moisture prickled on the back of her neck as a few seconds of thick silence passed, her eyes frantically flicking across his face, as if he had hidden a clue there. His grin grew and grew the more hysterical she became, a sign that her time was coming to a close.

"Fuck fuck, fuck!"

"Ten seconds."

He drew a small knife out of his pocket, staring at it almost absent-mindedly with an eyebrow raised. Hayley's eyes widened, her brain practically tripping over itself. Then, suddenly, the answer hit her like a freight train, and she cried out hysterically "God Save the Queen!"

The Joker let out a small, disappointed argh, tucking the knife back into its rightful place with a frown - frowning always looked so unnatural on him, as it made his scars seem like they were being tugged in the wrong direction.

Hayley pressed her head against the table, exhaling heavily. The last remnants of terror and adrenaline were buzzing out of her bloodstream, leaving her wrung-out.

A small thump encouraged her to lift her weary head off the table, and what she saw genuinely made her eyes water. A small Tupperware box, filled with egg fried rice.

She had ripped off the lid and dug in before the Joker could even go back to his seat - sure, she was scooping it up in her hands and shovelling it in her mouth like she was an ape, but table manners were the least of her worries at the moment. Once she had eaten the very last grain of rice, she spoke again.

"Do you play this game with every person you capture?"

He leant back in his chair at the question, running a tongue over his bottom lip. "Sometimes I whistle."

Hayley snorted, then grimaced when she realised something. "There's still one more round to go."

"But," he crowed, pushing back his seat with an awful screech and standing up, "That final round holds your rights to dinner, which isn't for another..." he glances at his bare wrist, "Six hours. Seeya then."

"Wait, where are you going?" she also stood up, eyebrows knitted.

"I'm not a babysitter. Important things, beyond you." he waved his hand airily, turning his back in order to snatch his coat back off the couch.

"Won't you at least tell me why you're keeping me here? I'm pretty sure you were set on killing me until about half an hour ago."

"How'd you know I'm not still set on that?" he turned around, full suit on, back slightly hunched. Gaze dark and imposing as ever.

"You said politics were keeping me alive." She narrowed her eyes, involuntarily taking a step back - it was just instinctual to do so.

"Yeah, but I've never been one for politics."

And with that barely-concealed threat he stormed out of the apartment, purple coat tails whipping behind him as he disappeared out of the door.
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good-mood joker (well as good as he can be) is a lot of fun to write, and i couldn't resist turning the whole food thing into a stupid game so ^^ also this may have typos because im abroad and therefore have to type everything on my mobile, so don't hesitate to point out any that you spot

OH and we've reached 101 recommendations! that is amazing thank you guys <3