Jason sat at the Joker's desk, his head in his hands. It had been almost forty eight hours now since he had crashed he and Harley into the harbor. He still had no word on Harley. He had sent clowns all over the city, to the hospitals, to the jails, even diving into the harbor. But they didn't so much as find a fingerprint. It was as if she had somehow vanished from the face of the earth completely. Where was she? Was she alive? Or had he himself killed her? His white hands clench at his green hair. He should have been able to find something out by now. Had her body been swept out to sea?
Jason hasn't slept since the wreck. Not for a single moment. How could he? He raises his weary head and reaches for a glass of scotch sitting in front of him. He's been attempting to 'drink his sorrows away', but has found that to be one of the most unreliable sayings he's ever heard. You don't drink shit away. You just get drunker and think about things even more. But with alcohol in you the thoughts tend to veer towards a more negative direction. Jason can only feel himself getting madder with every sip he takes. Mostly at himself. If he drinks much more he feels as though all that anger might explode. Or implode. And that wouldn't make a damn thing better.
There's a knock at the door. Jason's drunken eyes float up to it. Was it news? A lead? Something? He wanted word, but is terrified it'll be bad news. But bad news might have been easier to accept than no news at all. A moment later the door slowly creeps open. Jason braces himself for whatever words were anout to come.
Frost nervously steps into the office and clears his throat. "We still can't find a single trace of her boss."
That wasn't something he wanted to hear. "Then keep looking!" Jason snaps, his reddened eyes narrowed at Johnny.
Frost looks down with a nod. "Perhaps we should broaden our search area sir."
"We've covered all of Gotham. Broaden? Broaden to where?" Jason sighs and pushes back his messy hair. He simply didn't understand. The Joker had unlimited resources. He owned cops and politicians alike. Why hadn't those stupid clowns found her yet?
"Surrounding cities? The...The bay?" Frost uneasily says to him.
Frost too was starting to lose hope. Nobody has ever disappeared from him without a trace before. Frost nervously looks up at Jason. In all honesty, he hoped the little shit was wallowing in guilt. So much so that he swallows the barrel of a gun and pulls the trigger. And he would deserve it. If he was responsible for Harley dying Mr. J wouldn't get the chance to kill him slowly, Johnny would beat him to it.
"Don't you say that," Jason points at him in anger.
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Jason couldn't accept that. He wouldn't, no matter what. "Don't you dare say that!" His voice cracks, but he manages to contain his tears. "She's not dead! Get back out there and find her!"
"Whatever you say boss," Frost sighs and excuses himself.
Jason rests his head in his hands again. His eyes brim with new tears. The conversation he had had with Harley at the club, the promises he had made her, they kept repeating in his head. He had meant them with all of his heart. He had planned to stand by each of them. He had vowed to himself to make them happen. But, as usual, he was failing to deliver. Then he could almost hear Bruce's voice, reminding him that 'a man's only as good as his word'. Unrelenting tears cascade from Jason's eyes.
