Give Me a Smile

I thought I had gotten away with it. I crept back into the room and into bed. Then the lock clicked. Joker was standing by the door, grinning at me. “Quinnie, what have you been up to?” he murmured. “I freed Catwoman,” I blurted out, then clapped my hands over my mouth. I’m so fucking stupid sometimes.

“That wasn’t very smart, Quinnie,” he whispered, walking closer to me, “because now I’m going to fucking kill you,” he roared, hitting me across the face. Everything went black for a second as I realized he’d been holding back. He grabbed me by the throat and threw me to the floor, then punched me in the mouth.

I heard something crack and knew he’d broken my jaw. The pain was dazzling. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He hurled me against the wall, hard enough that I broke through the plaster. I didn’t bother begging for mercy. I knew I deserved this.

He laughed the whole time, giggling as he kicked my ribs until they snapped. I was coughing blood, in so much pain that death seemed a mercy. I heard the click of his knife and knew he was going to kill me. I closed my eyes, tried to think of the good times, the first time I’d seen him smile at me, the day he’d truly shown me the Narrows, committing our first crime.

Then the door slammed open. “Police! Drop your weapons and put your hands up!” Joker was wrestled away from me, and I was picked up by rough arms. “Looks like we’ve finally caught the Joker and his bitch,” someone muttered, and I knew I was no longer presumed innocent. I passed out when they tossed me into a police car. My last thought was that Catwoman had probably tipped them off. I would have preferred death.

I was brought to the police station and left in a cell. No comforting words, no pity, no salves to heal my wounds. For some reason I liked it better that way. Seemed less fake. Gotham had finally seen my true side. I puked blood into the toilet and curled up on the cot, watching blood drip from my fingertips. Everything ached. I couldn’t focus on anything else. I blacked out again.

Batman was in my cell when I woke up. He suited it perfectly. My wounds had been bandaged. I didn’t hurt as bad. “Batman?” My voice was even raspier than usual. His eyes flicked to me and he frowned. “Why?” “Huh?”

Batman leaned forward in a move oddly similar to Joker, hands clenched on his thighs. “I thought I saved you. I thought you were getting away, but you ran straight back to him.” He pounded his fist on his leg and said, “Another person lost to that monster.” “I wasn’t lost. I knew exactly where I was.” I touched the tattoo on the back of my neck and grinned.

“I belong to him. I belong to him forever,” I giggled, on the edge of hysteria. “I belong to Joker.” “He doesn’t want you. He never did. He’s a psychopath,” Batman said harshly, looming over me. “He used you for his own amusement. The only things he ever gave you are scars.”

“I love him. I love the Joker.” I giggled again. “Forever and ever.” Batman looked down at me with disgust. “You’re as mad as he is.” He left the cell, and I laughed until I couldn’t breathe.