Don't Get Even...Get Mad (A Joker Story [Sequel to WDKYSMYS]

5: The Blame (Revised)

I always tried reassuring myself I had lived a long life. Why not? I mean, I've done things most people couldn't even dream of.

Of course, they were bad things, like robbing a family by gunpoint and knocking out a guard by taking his own club to the back of the head when I was running low on money, but I never tried to focus on the fact that they were so negative. I mean, I know I had spent my life just playing with fire, since it would end up exploding in my face later (kinda like now), but I was always too foolish, always promising myself I would change later.

I hadn't. I had shown everyone, mainly my parents, that I had become what they had feared most, what they expected the most. So I didn't kill everyone in my sight like Joker, but that didn't make me a good person.

It made me pathetically evil. I mean this as in you are either straight up good, or straight up bad. Unless your Catwoman. Catwoman has herself in a bad spot almost all the time because of her poorly made decisions. But that's not the point. When she does something, she does it. When Batman has a goal, he goes to accomplish it. When, oh, I don't know, Zzas has someone he wants to slaughter to put yet another stinging tally into his flesh, he goes out and does it like the true sociopath he is. But I have no true feelings, I kill people but later feel as the guilt sinks in. I go out and do something good, and I feel like I had betrayed all the allies I have made. It makes me feel pathetic to know that I have weaknesses, that I have emotions of guilt and sorrow after something that should feel good to someone on my side.

Either way, it's not like that's going to matter anymore.

I'm dead, aren't I? Now I'm just a floating enigma in the air, just the most curious questions floating around, like where's the bright light or the tunnel to hell?

If I were to really go somewhere right now, where would I go?

It kind of sickens me to think I would spiral down to the depths of hell. Would I be forgiven, though, and actually go to heaven?

Joker won't.

The man I love has slaughtered, laughed about it, joked with me about it, and sometimes I believe he just doesn't know better. He does though, he knows what he's signing up for.

I'm less aware.

There's something about him that makes me love him, despite the guilt I feel for the people we destroy. Maybe it's the bad side of me, or the innocent good side of me that just goes to the flow.

Either way, I-

The world around me became bright, painfully luminous as I felt something slimy slide down my arm. I gasped large amounts of air until I was satisfied with oxygen, and then collapsed back onto the white surface.

I lifted up my hands, finding they were covered with something,

White, thin sheets, stained with specks of crimson. I sat up, feeling my body react negatively and shudder. I had something terribly wrong with me.

Even so, I was alive.

I looked around quick, trying to grasp the time and moment. I locked eyes with Jack, who was leaning on the wall across from me, panic and shock in his eyes.

I looked to my left, seeing Harley, her lips puckered together but her eyebrows furrowed angrily. It confused me, what could she possibly be angry at?

Then to my right, seeing Rue's hopeful, big eyes and her hands clasped over her mouth. I was surprised to see she was still with us.

"What happened?"

"Poison ivy broke in, tried to kill you because her plant specimen was in your clothing drawers for some bizarre reason, I sliced up all her vines and stabbed her in the chest, and Rue just got all the vines off of you." Jack said in one long, bored breath. The way he said it made me a bit angry.

"You sound unamused. I'm sorry, was my pain not theatrical enough for you?"

Rue let out a quiet whistle, lips formed in an O shape. "Meeeooww." she murmured. "Awkward." she looked away.

"Well, when you put Ivy's plants in your stuff, you should really remember she likes getting back at people who mess with her "pretties"."

I was at a loss for words now. I couldn't even respond at first, staring at him with a slacked jaw, my eyes narrowing. First off, I almost die. Second off, I get blamed for almost dying for something I didn't do. "You really think I did that?"

He sighed. "Just admit it, babe. Who else has access to the house?"

I pulled the machines out of me as gently as possible, not even flinching as they flat lined. I got up and pulled myself out of the bed, grabbing my change of clothes. 

"Someone set me up, maybe! Someone who works for you, because obviously your guards don't like me!" I hissed, unbelievably angry at him, but he didn't change his tune. He simply didn't believe me.

"Look, my dear, you've been so desperate to get back into the game, I wouldn't put this past you." He replied, but I was done with that attitude. 

"Whatever, Joker. You can think that, but I swear it's not true." I hissed, walking away, slamming the door as I left.