Straying out of Sanity

"Don't trust him," a whisper filled the room. I could barely hear it, in fact thinking back on the moment passed I didn't think I had heard it at all. I must have fallen asleep while awaiting The Joker's return and had no idea how long I had been out, be it five minutes or five hours.

"He's too smart for you, don't trust him, Emma."

Again the nothing voice filled the room, louder this time. I lazily opened my eyes, facing the wall of security videos around the mansion. They were the only light in the room, and with my body being too lazy to get up and turn more on, I used that to look around my surroundings. There was nothing out of the ordinary with my first glance but as I laid my head back down I noticed something in the shadows moving.

"Are you listening to me Emma?" I heard the voice again and suddenly the form of a person appeared on the right side of the mattress, a few feet away from my head. I sat up fast enough for my head to spin and stared at the figure. It was completely blacked out in the dim light, but I knew who it was. I knew it was Aaron. Not the kid they took away and locked in Arkham to forget about but an almost mature version of my little brother.

"Finally got your attention," the figure said and I stared. "You know what I'm talking about right?" he asked.

"I'm dreaming," I finally came to the conclusion.

"No," he retorted, "You aren't dreaming. Not this time."

"Yes I am, your in Arkham somewhere-"

"They let me go."

"They wouldn't do that."

"Yes they would, and they did. I'm normal again, Emma," Aaron told me.

"Shut up," I told him and laid back on the bed, still tired and resenting the dream I was having.

"Fine. Just don't trust him, Emma. He's using you. When he's done you'll be like everyone else he's killed, he doesn't really care. Not for you, just be careful."

"I don't trust The Joker, don't worry kid," I yawned and looked back to where Aaron was once standing but he had vanished. I knew I had been sleeping.

As soon as I had laid back down again on The Joker's bed I saw another figure standing in front of the surveillance system. My eyes traveling up it's body and to it's head I saw a hole around its forehead and left eye that I could see straight through. I stared at the figure wide-eyed and afraid to move. "My, you look so scared, princess," the figure hissed hauntingly, "Good, you should be."

As soon as the figure took a step forward my eyes were tightly shut, repeating over and over in my head that I was asleep. "Where's The Joker to save you now?" I heard the figure chuckle, no doubtingly walking across the carpet to me and against my will I began to cry again. This was a fucking realistic dream. I heard everything clearly now, no more whispers from nowhere; I felt everything; my tears, my muscles tensing; I could even smell the blood in the room from the walking corpse.

So it was no surprise that I could feel Fletcher's hand clasp tightly around my calf and, instinctively, I screamed, trying to wriggle away and fighting my attacker frantically. The room had become suddenly much brighter temporarily blinding me as I was grabbed around my other leg and pulled back to the edge of the mattress, pulling the covers of the bed with me. As I tried to fight back my assailant managed to grip both my wrists so I was left with kicking but only seconds after his other hand went to my inner thigh, painfully grabbing my bullet wound on my leg which paralyzed my movement with pain and more screams.

I felt my body fall from the bed and too the floor before the hands released me. I grabbed my leg in pain and curled into a ball on the floor, now mostly able to see again despite tears blurring my vision. And the only person I saw in the room with me was The Joker himself, his face wholly intact, meaning he couldn't be the only one in the room with me.

I quickly sat up and tried to turn around, looking for where Fletcher's corps had gone but The Joker quickly grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back to him. "No, he's still here!" I screamed as The Joker twisted my arm behind my back and forced my body up against the bed frame in the most uncomfortable manner imaginable, applying most his weight to my back and legs so all I could to was try and feebly push myself away from the bed with my free arm.

"Just breathe," He tried telling me as I continued screaming and incoherently arguing. "Calm down before you break your arm," he told me after another minute of my struggling as he twisted my arm further, obviously growing impatient, "Breathe."

It took me a few moments, realizing the pain was so great in my arm that it probably was broken already and I tried breathing in between sobs instead of screaming at him. The Joker's grip on me loosened considerably as I struggled to obey him and within seconds I was on the floor holding my shoulder as he moved away from me. I pushed myself away from both him and the bed before curling into a ball and crying more.

The Joker sighed from behind me, standing and stepping around to the front of me before sitting down. "Who was it this time?" he asked, neatly and slowly rolling his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows. I quieted my crying but didn't reply to him. I heard you speaking about me, who was it to?" He asked, sounding less patient than before and I looked up at him.

"F-first it was Aaron," I said quietly, looking away from him.

"And you thought a ten year old could restrain you like that?" he asked, knowing there was more.

"No he wasn't ten this time-" I tried to explain.

"What was he telling you about me?" The Joker cut me off.

"He... he said... not to trust you..." I let out slowly, keeping my gaze far away from the man in front of me.

"Who else?" he asked, ignoring my statement. I remained quiet staring at my knees, pulled close to my chest. "Jill, answer me."

"How did you know?" I asked looking up to him finally and hoping to slightly change the subject.

The Joker smacked his lips, slightly narrowing his eyes at me before accepting that I wasn't going to give him a straight answer. He then turned to look at the surveillance screens behind him and pointed to a specific one, silently answering my question. I sat up, supporting myself on my good arm, to get a better look. The screen he had pointed to had a perfect view of the room I was in earlier and, though it was darker in the room now there was a prominent bloodstain on the carpet where Fletcher had tried to kill me.

"So you just stalk these all day?" I asked bravely looking back to The Joker.

He slowly turned to look back at me before sickly smiling and replying with, "Only the ones you show up on."

"Why?" I asked, frowning disapprovingly at him.

"I knew something like... that... would happen. There's... something about you... You have no idea how much you can really piss men off do you?" The Joker told me, using his hands incoherently as he talked.

I smirked, realizing he meant that more as a complement than insult. "And that's why you banned me from more that sitting and rotting in your room?" I asked sweetly.

It was obvious he knew I was unhappy with him but he laughed anyways. "I never said you couldn't leave," he replied.

"Yes you did you said-"

"I'd kill anyone you came in contact with. Never did I say if you step out that door and the manor would explode. I never told you 'Don't leave or else.' You're free to go whenever you want, just take your things and disappear from here. Why don't you, by the way? That bit's been nagging me since you first came here," The Joker asked me and leaned forward as if expecting something miraculous to happen in front of him.

"I..." I began but looked down and away from him. "This is the first place I've lived in for more than a few days since I-'

"Ran away with Jay and Laurel?" The Joker finished for me, smiling at the inquisitive look I gave him. "You really should look into that somniloquy problem of yours."

"My what?" I asked, confused.

"Sleep talking," he replied blandly and must have forced himself to look bored, just to spite me. "But I wouldn't blame you. You quit high school to live your fabulous life in the slums of Gotham City when you were... what a sophomore? A junior in high school?"

I snorted in response. "And you graduated high school?" I asked, unable to think of anything more insulting. Obviously he did that man was way to fucking smart.

"No, actually. I didn't make it past my Freshman year," He smiled proudly, his answer shocking me. "I was too involved in illegal activities and petty crimes to care much for school," he clarified and that made a bit more sense. "I still didn't have the great idea of running away from home with my seven year old sister and disgruntled bisexual sixteen year old friend."

"Jay isn't gay-"

"Ah, but I didn't say gay," The Joker laughed, wagging his finger insultingly at me.

"He isn't bisexual. It doesn't matter, he doesn't like men, whatever you call him. And you have no idea what his home life was like-" I began, quickly becoming angry.

The Joker no longer saw this as amusing, his painted features a tale-tell sign, and he quietly said, "Yes I do," staring straight into my eyes. His mood swing unnerved me, yes, but I refused to blink or look away from him. He laughed emptily and continued, "I would have loved to live with a whore mother and an army obsessed father, loved it."

"So what did you grow up with then?" I asked, still my gaze was locked with his.

He stared at me for another second or two before saying, "I'm done talking to you," and standing from his sitting position on the floor.

"So what? Once things get personal for you just... you decide to stop talking to me? That's not fair, it's... it's hypocrisy! Knowing all this personal bullshit about me and... and forcing me to tell you about it but when I start asking questions you just... Walk away? And... And hide?" I asked angrily, standing along with him.

The Joker sighed and turned to walk back to where I was standing, coming to a stop at an uncomfortable distance of me. He reminded me just how much taller he was than me, despite my usual height advantage over most people and made me feel small, weak. He didn't look angry, or upset or anything along the lines of an emotion that would be bad for me. He looked more... sad, though I'm hesitant to say it.

He ran his fingers through my distressed hair, attempting to slightly fix it before moving them to wipe away the remnants of tears from my cheeks then to hold my arms, just above the elbow. He was acting in a way that The Joker shouldn't be acting, and it was scaring me. There was something deep in his soulless eyes that I couldn't fully grasp, let alone comprehend.

"You couldn't take that much right now," he told me.

"Bullshit," I replied quickly but just as quietly as he had talked.

"Don't," he said more forcefully, tightening his grip around my arms and closing his eyes momentarily. "Don't speak to me like that."

I took in a deep breath and began again with, "Yes, I could."

"No," he said loosening his grip again and looking back at me. "Don't take your brother's advice and trust me," he told me and then let go of my arms fully, taking a step or two back from me.

I crossed my arms childishly at him and watched him leave me alone again in his room.

The Joker was acting strangely human tonight.