i'm holding on for dear life- harleyxjoker

blackouts and airplanes

Back again with another chapter! I might start a new story soon, so keep your eyes out for that! We are a little over halfway with this one, so I'll let you know when a new one is posted! Love you lots and thanks for reading. xx

They ate in silence. Well, The Joker ate anyway. Harley sat curled up on a stool, absently sipping at a now cold cup of coffee. The Joker tried to get her to eat something, but she protested, saying her stomach wasn't up to it.

He could see right through her lie. It was the same as the boiling shower she took and her incessant scrubbing of her skin. She was trying to punish herself. She was trying to teach her body a lesson for how it acted, like it was somehow responsible for pushing her over the edge.

He could see the bruises flourishing across her pale collar bones. Bruises which he gave her. Where he once would feel pride swelling within him at seeing his claim all over Harley's body, he couldn't help but wonder if it encouraged her actions that night in the bath tub.

She sensed his eyes lingering on her and she looked up at him, an unspoken question in the gesture. He shook his head once, looking down at the empty plate. He didn't want to start with her.

He heard the chair scrape across the floor and heard her pad across the kitchen and place the mug in the skink. She stopped, lingering behind him for a moment, wanting to say something to clear the air, before closing her mouth and leaving the room.

He wanted to throw the plate off the table. To hear it shatter on the floor and walk over the broken pieces. Why was he like this. He had never cared about her feelings before. It had never really bothered him how upset she had gotten, or what she did to deal with whatever guilt came with their lifestyle.

Well, her actions had never directly effected him before. Not like this. She was always faithfully loyal to him. She would do anything for him. But this... This wasn't for him. She hadn't though of how he might react at all. Somehow the sadness had gotten so intense it overwhelmed her feelings for him. She wasn't prepared to live for him anymore. She couldn't. And this is what scared him. He remembered all those years ago when Harley was Harleen and stood, staring at him above the vats of chemicals. He could feel the heat rising upwards, causing her cheeks to flush pink. He remembered the life and eagerness in her eyes. She was desperate to be his.

There was a different type of desperation in her eyes now. A dull and nervous desperation. She was fighting to keep the voices away, anxious to ensure that he couldn't see any cracks in the Harley Quinn that he knew.

But he wasn't blind. He could see the way she had changed. Looking back on her over the last few moths, he felt silly not having picked it up sooner. It must have been the psychologist in her, hiding the most obvious signs away from him in the deepest recesses in her mind. He underestimated her. That was a mistake he wouldn't make again.

He looked up at the empty kitchen and sighed. Where had she gone to? He wanted to keep a close eye on her. He got up, not bothering to clean up his mess from breakfast and he stalked into the hallway. He walked up the stairs looking into their bedroom.

She was laying on the bed, her body turned away from him, curled up into a tight ball. The shirt she was wearing (her favourite shirt of his) covered her knees and arms as her chest rose and fell steadily. She shouldn't be sleeping. She would never sleep tonight if she slept that deeply now. He walked towards her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Harley, c'mon baby, wake up"

She mumbled something, pulling away from him in an attempt to resume sleeping. He frowned and shook her harder. "Harley" She grumbled and blinked once, her eyes heavy with sleep. She rolled towards him and thats when he spotted the orange bottle as it rolled out from under her. Now it made sense.

He pulled her up quickly, holding her by the shoulders harshly. She squeaked as she tried to push away her sleepy haze.

"Harley are you out of your mind!?" he screamed. She looked at him uncertainly, not quite sure where his rage was coming from. Growling, he reached for the bottle and held it in front of her face. She looked at it blankly for a moment before the realisation set in. She gulped and raised her eyes up to meet his.

His hand cracked down on her cheek hard, causing her to cry out and fall to the floor.

"How dare you Harley! Those things almost killed you! How dare you even touch them again!"

He kicked her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her. She winced in pain, knowing better then to speak and anger him more. He continued to hit her, unable to control himself, using her as a person punching bag for his anger at her stupidity. How could he trust her? How could he protect her. He was seeing red. He could have lost her! He could have lost her.

"P..Please.."

The weak cry below him caused him to come back to the present and he look at her crumpled body on the floor. She had tear tracks over her cheeks and red marks all over her skin from where his boot had left nasty impressions. She looked up at him anxiously, her body trembling slightly.

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and helped her up. She stumbled momentarily, carefully checking her ankles for any pain before balancing herself. She wouldn't look at him. He knew she was ashamed. She knew that she was wrong. Her fingers twisted together and she tried to make her body as small as possible.

"I'm sorry baby" she muttered slowly "I..I just didn't want to have any more dreams" Her voice wavered and she stopped. Tears filled her eyes and he saw one run down her face and drip off the end of her chin. He lifted her face up to look at his. He truly felt bad bout what he did, but he would never say it. She always knew when he was sorry.

He was about to speak, to say something to try and bring her some comfort but in a rare moment of boldness she reached up onto her toes and kissed him gently on his lips. The warmth of her body pressed against his made him moan. She pulled back a little and opened her eyes, assessing the situation. Slowly, she pulled him towards the bed and he followed, completely taken with her in this moment. She pulled him down on top of her and kissed him again, this time more passionately, hungrily. He returned the kiss with equal strength, soaking up her warmth, her energy.

She reached down, slowly hooking her fingers on his pants and he realised how far the situation had gone. He pulled away from her, ignoring her whimper at how painfully absent he was. He turned away from her, getting up and running a hand through his hair.

"Baby.." she started but he cut her off.

"Harley... you're not ready"

He turned around to look at her. The warmth in her cheeks was not the same as Harleen's pleasant blush. It was filled with embarrassment and rejection. Her mouth was agape as she looked at him. Frozen.

He had rejected her advances before, of course. But that was with with violence and a complaint of her bothering him. It was a threat before. This time is was purely because of her.

She nodded and looked down. She wouldn't look at him. She couldn't look at him. He studied her for a few moments, taking in everything. Her body language, her expression, the way her fingers pinched at her neck. He made the right choice. She wasn't well enough for this. He moved closer to her again, sitting a safe distance beside her, moving his hand out to rest it on her knee.

"Baby, I want you. I really want you. But I need you to get better first.. I-" he stopped himself. This had gotten too personal already. She nodded silently, always understanding what he wanted to say. She always knew. Whether it was what he wanted to say or what she wanted to hear he didn't know.