Joker and Harley One Shots

Time Heals

Soundtrack: Halsey- Ghost
Hey guys! This is my first one shot! I know it's pretty long but I just got into a little writers block but then finished! I hope you guys love it! You guys can comment anything you'd like me to write about! Thanks xxx

     "I'm leaving you." Harley said from the ground, clutching her cheek from where his fist had just collided. She felt sick.The words felt like poison on her lips. She was shaking from pain and fear. She looked at the green haired man who had inflicted this pain on many occassions.She didn't know why this time was different, he had hit her so much worse many times. She shakily got up. The whole time he watched her with an unreadable face, but behind his mask of non emotion he was enraged, but mostly a little conflicted. He ran his hands through his shiny green hair and turned away from Harley. She was scared to death. So was he, although he would never admit it.

    Joker turned back to her and she backed up against the wall. He came so close she could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. He looked her dead in the eyes with his icy ocean eyes. "I don't think so." He said. His voice immediantly disintigrated her pain and anger. "I'm sorry baby-you know i would never-" He grabbed her neck, to the point she couldn't breathe. Then he punched his other fist through the wall right next to her head, and she let out a whimper. "You're not going anywhere. If you think for a second you will ever leave me you are wrong. You are mine, Harley Quinn." He said in his icy voice, letting go of her throat and pulling his fist from the wall and walking out. She hated when he used her name like that. Her hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder lightly. "Puddin- please. I'm- I'm sorry." He turned his head, and grazed her cheek lightly where a red mark was forming. From his damage. She winced.
He rolled his eyes and pulled her close. He picked her up like a rag doll, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He stared into her eyes, but his smile suddenly dropped. He set her down on the bed and ran his hand through his hair. He walked down the hallway to his office, slamming the doors. Too soon. Harley felt empty and used. She sat on the edge of the grand bed in his oversized dress shirt, and crossed her legs. She would not crack. Hell no. She put her hand out in front of her, watching it until it steadied and was still. An old trick Red taught her in the occasions she'd been inducted back into Arkham. It was an anxiety trick to wait until it stopped shaking. She waited until her breath was a steady flow and got off the bed, plucking one of Joker's shirts from the floor. She walked to the bathroom, shutting the door but leaving a crack in case he came looking for her. She ran a bath which drew rather quick to her surprise and relief. She turned off the water and stripped, slipping into the searing water, barely wincing at the intense pain. These times happened often, when Joker would become angry. Not always at her, but he always took his rage out on her. When bats wasn't there as his emotional punching bag, she was an eligible substitute. She had never resisted, in fear. Well, there was also the initial factor of her love for him. She drew her face to the water, letting out a sharp cry as her cheek touched the steaming water, but kept it in while biting her lip. She dipped under, but came out immediately. She didn't understand his inability to love, yet he loved her. When she had studied him, he lacked any trace of empathy. But- had she fixed her patient? Hell no. He didn't need fixing. She laughed at the silly minded doctor she had been. So naive. What a dumbass she was.

She clamored out, pulling the plug in the tub, and took a towel out of the grand gold closet. Their residence was intensely rich, full of black and gold accents to define who owned it. Just like how he owned her. Harley walked to the mirror and her towel fell to the floor. She studied the damage he had inflicted on her fragile yet strong frame. She shook slowly back and forth, humming some old nursery rhyme.

Hush little baby don't say a word,
Mama's gonna kill for you the whole damn world and if they still don't get our jokes, mama's gonna stab out their god damn throats.
And if they start to run away, mama's gonna paint the streets with blood. And once the blood starts to wash off, mama's gonna blow some more heads off. And if the world still doesn't laugh, mama's gonna go and poison them. And once the poison does it's job, mama's gonna show you you're legacy. And if the world still tries to fight, mama's gonna burn their houses down.  And if you grow up with his smile, mama's gonna be so proud of you.

She studied herself, all the tattoos signaling her ownership, and all the scars, cuts, bruises. She loved every mark. The voices screamed at her to snap out of it. She saw the lines of small bruises not from pain forming on her collar bone. Where he had punched her in the stomach, she saw a sizable purple bruise forming. His favorite color. The red mark that was on her cheek was also becoming a bruise.
She ignored the voices like usual and kept on humming. She slipped on the oversized shirt over her body and lingerie. She brushed her hair, still stained from that acid bath twelve years ago. She twisted her hair into two braids, and flipped off the light.

She snuck out the bedroom door and stopped humming. Harley walked down the hall to Joker's office. She knocked rather quietly, clearing her throat? "What the hell do you want Frost?" He yelled in return, making her cringe. "Um- puddin? It's me." She said with a rather clear and strong voice. She may belong to him, but she wouldn't just be pushed around. She was smarter than that. Or was she? "Come on in Harls." He said. Harley walked in rather confidently at the sound of her pet name. He sat at his desk, hair a mess, ogling at a mess of papers all over. She loved him in a beautiful mess. There were newspapers with Batman's form flashing by, papers of inmates at Arkham, and many other things. He didn't bother looking up at her, so she walked over to him, laying on her stomach on the desk. "So puddin- I wanted to say sorry for what happened- I- I love you and I could never leave you." She said, wincing at her own unstable voice. Ugh why was she like this? She lost all her confidence and melted at the sight of him. He put down his paper, studying her puppy eyed bulge lipped face, and grazed where her red mark was turning into a bruise. "Yeah? Well is that so." He said, getting out of his chair with an angry force. He clenched his fists, turning away from her. "When I tell you to do something, just do it alright?" He said, and she stood up. "Yes puddin." She said, walking to the rug he splayed out in front of the fireplace. She layed down playfully on her stomach, eyeing him like a child. That's how he saw her. His little girl. And little girls have to protected. He walked over and growled, eyeing his prey. That's it. She had him and he owned her.