Crazy about you (Harley x joker suicide squad)

Burn

Fun was an understatement. Not only did I get work done, but I was less stressed about trying to keep Harley in check all the time. She was always a bother to me.

It's been 2 days since she left. And I've never realized how boring this place is. Everyone here is boring. The things here are boring.

God I'm bored.

I spend my days sketching plans to kill the bat in my study. All I can do is work, work, work. But that's ok. At Least I'm doing something productive. And who knows, if I finally kill the bat and I'm on the news, Harley will be so fucking sorry that she wasn't here to help.

But when I'm not working, I sit at my desk and doodle. I know it's weird, but I like it. It calms me. Even though I suck at drawing and can't even draw a stick figure.

And a lot of the times I don't even know what I'm drawing. My mind just starts wandering and then bam. I have some weird creature, or place, or...thing.

on one occasion I found myself doodling a figure with legs, that figure then had a familiar shape to it, and soon pigtails stood out with a profound smile I know all too well.

I gasped and crumpled the paper, and threw it in the waste basket. But not until I made sure the basket was burning. And I mean quite literally burning in flames.

I sat on my knees in front of the little fire for hours. Watching the paper burn. It was somewhat sad, really.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed loudly. And as I stared into that fire, watching everything I loved burn. I finally came to the conclusion that I, in fact, hate myself. I know that's random but it hit me like a ton of bricks. I mean, I'm the root of every problem, and I can't seem to function properly in the real world. Well I guess this is the real world, but being in an office all day isn't exactly "real world."

"Sir, we smelt smok-" one of my henchman said rushing in, snapping me out of my pitiful trance.

"sir, uh, should I get the fire extinguisher?..." He asked, panicky and giddy. Eyes darting from the fire to me.

I stared at him for a moment. A blank expression revealing to him that the answer was no.

He gulped and glanced at the growing fire before giving a quick nod and leaving. Probably going to tell the others that I'm crazy. That's what everyone does.

I sighed and stood up, my legs throbbed and ached. Sitting like that has taken its toll. I stumbled to my desk, the fire now spreading on the floor and reaching the walls. I grabbed a handful of my things, and walked out.

"C,mon boys, time to retreat!" I called, making my way down the stairs.

Soon enough they all came crawling and we loaded up the van with valuable items. Some left behind due to excessive heat.

I jumped up front and waited as the men gathered in the back. Not questioning why I burned the place down, but simply obeying me.

I sat there for a moment, knowing I left something valuable behind somewhere but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I turned my head to the empty passenger seat.

"Oh." I said simply.

"One less thing to worry about." I said to myself as I took off down the driveway.
I looked back at the burning building. It felt powerful knowing I made that with just a little anger and a match.

For a quick moment, I remembered what Harley said to me.

"This is what's wrong with you! You hurt me and hurt me until your satisfied and I'm left feeling like I'm the one who did something wrong!!!"

My heart hammered in my chest. Every moment repeating itself in my head.

Maybe she meant something by that, and not the way she worded it. But maybe I'm a disaster waiting to happen. And I explode on everyone and everything, not just her.

No one wants to be with a crazy bipolar man.

She had been gone for only 2 days, And now I know what I am without her. Her voice repeated itself in my head, screaming that I'm a monster, and that she doesn't love me.

I pulled over, my chest rising and falling quickly. My heart squeezed in my chest and my throat felt like it was closing. 'Shes gone she's gone she's gone she's gone she's gone!' I heard in my head, clinging to every memory and every part of me.

I felt nauseous suddenly. It was a wave of illness that was probably all in my mind, just like everything else is.

I gripped the steering wheel, hoping that if I squeezed tight enough, this would all go away and it would I be a distant memory.

I let my head fall into my hands, panting and trying to gather what was left of my sanity. Usually, if Harley were here, she would wrap her soft delicate arms around my hunched over form and sing to me until I was composed. She was always patient. And she'd give me my stuffed kitty. But now, there's no one to hold me and sing to me. No one to keep me safe. Or give me my kitty.

The gasps of air soon thinned out and turned into a small chuckle. My heart throbbed in pain as the chuckle turned into laughter which grew into hysterical fit.

I have lived without her for many years on my own. But when I saw her face in Arkham, something told me I wouldn't be alone ever again. That thought scared me.

But why should I count on some blonde therapist to run my life?! I can make my own assumptions and decisions. Then again...I did just burn our hideout down.

Maybe I do need her.

And so here I am, speeding down a dirty abandoned road, without my Harley, hoping to God that I don't lose her forever.

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This one is a little more sad, but ya know....It'll get better. Maybe.
Vote and comment pleeeeease! ^^^
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