Joker and Harley one shots! (suicide squad)

Demons

The joker sat across from Harley on the floor, staring at the board game pieces. Waiting for her to move her piece.

"Sorry sucks." He said resting his head on his hand.

She ignored the comment and slid her piece, knocking one of his out of the way.

"SOOOOORRY!!!!" She cried, taking his piece and putting it back to the beginning.

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Board games were so boring.

"Stop being such a grump." She said rolling her eyes.

He felt anger rise up his throat.

"Maybe I wouldn't be such a grump if life didn't totally SUCK asshole." He snapped, furrowing his non existent eyebrows and staring at the ground like it was the most fascinating thing ever.

She fell silent.

The tension suddenly became very thick and became awkward very quickly.

He started regretting his choice of words very much so. I mean, is not like he was lying. But damn, that was uncalled for.

"Anyway...you won so...." He said grabbing the board and shaking the pieces into the box.

"Are you ok?" She asked, sitting on her ankles and resting her hands on her lap.

"Yes, Harley. I'm fine." He said boredly. He's heard this many times, and every time he always says yes. Because when he says no, they say shit like "oh, I'm sorry." or "its ok, life sucks sometimes."

So he stopped trying.

She grabbed the box from him and stood up, taking it to the closet, and setting it in the back.

He sat there awkwardly until she came back, and sat down across from him.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asked, leaning forward and sliding her hands up his thighs.

"Talk about what." He said looking at the way her hands curved around his legs.

"Well you said that life sucks, so...why? Why does life suck?" She asked softly, careful not to anger him.

He pondered this. I mean, he knew. Totally. But it was a little foreign to have someone care. To ask what's wrong and listen. But he was still skeptical.

"You wanna know why life sucks?!" He said looking up at her with suspicion and anger in his eyes.

Her face was still soft, yet determined. "Yes." She said.

The word made his mind flicker with memories. When Harley showed him that she loved him, and she would die for him, when she jumped into the pit of acid just for him.

He clenched his jaw and twitched his eyes in suspicion.

"You. YOU make life suck!" He blurted.

She didn't change her expression. And he knew immediately that she didn't believe the words that came out of his mouth. She didn't actually think he meant that, she assumed he was trying to hurt her, which she has been far too used to.

He scoffed and looked back to the ground, Going back to square one.

He didn't want to talk about this. Not with her. Not with anyone. No one cares. Why should he believe her?

Her eyes were still firmly on him. Waiting for an answer even if it took all day. He knew she wasn't gonna quit. He needed to distract her.

He glanced at her hands and smirked.

"You know I love you, right?" He purred, pressing his pale hands on her thighs and leaning in to kiss her.

She pushed him away gently. "Puddin stop trying to change the subject," she said leaning away from him.

He furrowed his brows and tried again, leaning in and this time coming in contact with her neck.

"Stop!" She snapped, shoving him off.

He stumbled back a bit, then gritted his teeth at the rejection. He added that to his library of pain and things to mope about later.

"Don't love me anymore?" He growled, his eyes boring into hers.

"See! You take everything so hard! If someone doesn't give you all the attention in the world you immediately think it's your fault! Don't do that to yourself!" She cried.

He was hit with the truth. And he didn't like it one bit. He didn't believe it. As much as she likes to think, she doesn't know him. At all.

"It's not like that, Harley." He snapped, crossing his arms.

"Yes! It is! It's exactly like that!"

He stared at her and was tempted to smack her, but instead, got to his feet and started toward the kitchen. As if his body took over.

"Where are you going?!" She cried.

He couldn't hear her. All he could hear was the screaming in his head, and he was tired of it.

Tired of no one caring. Tired of being called a freak. Tired of having to live a life where all your hard work gets destroyed and you get treated like scum.

The ringing was drowning out everything. It was as if his vision was clouded and all he could focus on was his breathing that he could hear like he was in a room the size of a locker.

He would say that he wanted to go back in time when he was a kid, with no worries in the world, but even that would have been hell. As far as he can remember, life has hated him. Crushed him every chance it got, whether it be abuse, failure, deformation, bullying, or drug/alcohol abuse.

There was no happy time he could go back to. No memory to keep him here. No warm happy moment he could think of to reassure him that everything will be alright.

Nothing will ever be ok. He will die with a wife, but feel like the loneliest man alive. He will die with henchman there to obey to his every command, and still, feel like the loneliest man alive.

He will always be lonely and sad. And maybe it was too much. Maybe sitting on the floor with Harley playing sorry, and losing for the last time was enough.

He didn't even realize he was in his room, leant against the wall on the floor, until he blinked and everything came back into focus.

His senses came back one by one. First everything came back into focus and he could see that he was in the master bedroom, grey and bland, Like everything he saw. then he heard Harley pounding on the door, screaming to let her in. He must've locked the door. Then he smelt it. Smelt the coppery stench of fresh blood.

Then he felt it. The searing pain on his wrists. He looked down with his new vision that wasn't quite aware, and saw the gaping gash.

It was too late. Too deep. Too much blood.

He dropped the blade and as he did, a wave of warmth spread over his body.

He knew this was it. He knew he was done for. And quite frankly, he was happy. Content. Ready to drift off into a dark blissful sleep that he would never wake up from. Because anything is better than here.

He smiled one last time and closed his eyes, falling slowly. Until it was gone. Everything. His thoughts, the pain, the memories. All went black.

And that was the happiest moment in his life.