<| Jarley OneShots |>

Sick Joker//52.

Info:J is stuck in bed with a bad cold, but Harley is always there to help him through the pain, by pampering him of course.-

<<<Authors P.O.V>>>

The Joker woke in a fit of violent coughs, causing his whole body to shake and his chest to tighten in pain. He heaved out a desperate breath, inhaling the air in the large bedroom. He groaned in vexation at being woken from his slumber at 3 am.

"Puddin' you okay?" A tired voice squeaked from the darkness as the mattress tilted while the blonde crawled closer to him.

"Go back to sleep." He croaked out, surprised by his own weak voice as he tried not to imagine Harley's sympathetic pout at this moment.

Suddenly a hand was in his face, patting against his forehead as a rather dramatic gasp escaped the owner's lips. "Mistah J, you're heatin' up." She whispered sympathetically, smoothing back stray strands of vibrant, green hair that began to stick to his slick forehead.

"I'm fine, I never get sick." He mumbled defiantly, his tone hoarse and croaky. He pushed his face back into the pillow, but as soon as his pale face met the fabric his shoulders began to ache.

He groaned and writhed on the bed, he was not familiar with this type of pain, and it irritated him that he was showing such weakness to a common cold.

Suddenly a nightstand lamp was switched on, before a pair of cold hands met his shoulder blades, massaging deeply into his muscles as he let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction. "Puddin', just try to relax, 'kay." She whispered soothingly, kneading his tense muscles.

He stopped squirming, resting his hands beneath his pillow as he closed his eyes, allowing her to continue her massage on his shoulders. She kneaded her fingers into his shirtless back (he always slept without a shirt), listening as he let out silent sighs every now and then.

But suddenly the content moment was ruined when he erupted into a fit of coughs. Dryly heaving onto his pillow as he immediately sat up. Thin beads of sweat began to roll from his neck, sliding down his spine as he panted from practically losing all his oxygen.

"I'll go get some medicine, stay right here." Harley spoke in a concerned tone, sliding off the mattress and off to retrieve some cough medicine, if there was even any available in their empty club.

The Joker slumped back onto his bed, growling at the loss of her magical hands from his aching shoulders. He rolled off his stomach, finding it more comfortable to have his back against the mattress.

He ran his hands down his exhausted face, rubbing the tiredness from his bloodshot eyes. He had never gotten sick since he became The Joker. Not once. He assumed it was from the chemicals in his blood stream but this common cold must have been an exception.

Suddenly Harley came rushing into the room with a bottle of medicine, unbranded and very sketchy looking. She held a teaspoon in her hand and approached his side of the bed.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked suspiciously, eyeing the yellow-tinted bottle, full of an unknown liquid that was slushing around with her erratic movements to sit beside him.

"It's cough syrup, well I couldn't find any but Frost said this would help." She chirped, holding it up to her eye level to investigate the medicine.