You Don't Own Me

They arrived at his house some time later and Violet was taken aback by the size of it. It was absolutely huge; maybe one of the biggest houses she'd ever seen. He watched her as she took it in and smiled.

"Designed the whole thing myself," he told her, and she nodded slightly.

"Won't they be looking for you here? Won't this be the first place they look?" she asked a moment later, and he shook his head.

"No one knows where it is, little one. That's the point. Only myself and my most trusted men even know how to get here," he said, and she nodded again. She'd nodded off in the van a little bit, but the way there had seemed full of twists and turns in the thick forest that surrounded Gotham. She'd stopped knowing where she was quite a while ago. "We're safe here," he confirmed for her, watching her as she surveyed the area.

He led her into the house and again she was surprised at the sheer size of it. There was so much space every direction she looked and she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to navigate it without getting lost. He led her upstairs and she was surprised that most of the bedrooms were completely empty of furniture or anything else.

"You can take your pick. My bedroom and my weapons armory are at the end of the hall, but as you can see everything else is available," J told her, gesturing his arms widely.

She explored the rooms a bit and finally settled on one directly in the middle. She couldn't be completely sure because it was dark, but she thought it probably had the best view of the beautiful forest and small hills that they were surrounded by. After giving her a few blankets, an air mattress, and apologizing that there wasn't any furniture yet, J left her alone and disappeared somewhere down the hall.

After inflating it, she plopped down on the air mattress and stared at the ceiling in awe. She'd been lying there silently for a while before there was a quiet knock at her door. She opened it to see J standing there with a small pile of clothes. He'd changed out of his Arkham guard's uniform and seemed to have showered. His hair was damp and she could smell his musky soap.

"Hi," she said quietly, and he offered her the pile.

"I don't have much that you'd like probably, but I figured you might want to get out of that uniform," he said, and she smiled just slightly. Honestly, her thoughts were so consumed with other things that she'd almost completely forgotten she was wearing the uniform at all.

"Thank you," she said, looking into his eyes and not being able to shake the feeling that she always got when she did so.

"You're welcome. We'll get you something better tomorrow. And a real bed, if you'd like. Also, feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen or anywhere else," he said, and she nodded slightly. He stood there for a moment more like he was going to say something else, but then he turned on his heel and retreated down the hall. She stood in the doorway listening and as soon as she heard his door close, she ventured down the hall to the spacious bathroom she'd seen earlier.

Closing the door behind her, she surveyed the pile of clothes he'd given her. There were two pairs of plain black boxer shorts, a handful of plain white undershirts, and a pair of purple plaid flannel pajama pants that she couldn't in a million years picture him wearing.

She took a long shower, soaking in the warm water as much as she could. She stayed in there so long that her entire body began to prune and the water started slowly becoming much less comforting and warm. When the water was finally all the way cold, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel she'd found in a cupboard. Looking at herself in the mirror above the sink, she almost didn't recognize the girl staring back at her. Sure enough, she saw her green eyes and her long dyed-red hair. But something about the face was different. Something about the face had been different every time she'd looked into the mirror for a long time. Breaking her eye contact with herself, she dressed quickly and made her way back to her room.

Flopping back down on the bed, she listened to the house as it settled and creaked around her. She couldn't believe she was actually lying on an air mattress in the Joker's spare bedroom. Just a day before she'd been in Arkham asylum. A year before that she'd just been a normal girl with her own apartment and a steady job. She'd never known she was capable of any of the things that had happened. As she lay there thinking about it, she could barely even remember killing her father and those other men. She knew she'd done it, sure, but she couldn't really remember it. She couldn't remember the pipe she'd used to hit them with or the gun she'd used to shoot a few of them, not clearly anyway. It all seemed like a blurry dream.

She fell asleep thinking about it and the next thing she knew, someone was shaking her awake.

"Violet!"

She heard her name being yelled and finally her eyes flew open. J was standing over her, his hand still on her shoulder.

"You were screaming," he told her, and she nodded, wiping her sweaty forehead. Only then did she realize she was crying.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, and he shook his head.

"Don't be," he said, turning to head out of the room.

"No. Stay, please," she said to him without really meaning to. She was glad when he turned back to her and came to sit on the edge of her mattress, though.