The Joker Imagines

Breaking Out

Imagine being stuck in Arkham Asylum and being broken out by the Joker

You plopped down onto the twin sized spring mattress that sat in the left corner of the room. Your head rested on your bruised knuckles, staring longingly out the heavily barred window that was surrounded by cold cement on all sides. You were the only patient allowed to have a window in your cell.

Your knuckles began to get sore from putting the weight of your head on them, so you cradled them closely to you. While you were being caught (one and a half weeks ago) by Batman, you tried to escape his grasp and you punched him right on his nose. Ohh how you loved the way the bone cracked. You'd started laughing, and that's when he knocked you out. And that's when you'd woken up in this dark, damp room.

Since then, you had a session with a psychiatrist every day except the day you can back to consciousness. These psychiatrists always asked weird questions. Like "what was your childhood like?" or "what's your biggest fear?". Why would anyone need to know that?

Most cells were either glass or bars. But your cell was special; you got to be trapped in a gray, cement room with a heavily guarded, heavily locked door.

They fed you disgusting food that was worse than school food, and the same color as the walls. You also had to sit through 30-60 minute sessions each day at a table bolted to the floor and sitting in a chair with your arms tied behind your back - as if you would do something. They'd kill you on the spot if you "did" anything.

So, here you were, gazing out the window, wondering if Mr. J would ever come back to rescue you.

Just then, you heard the clicking of the lock opening on the door across the room. You sighed. You got up and strode to the chair, preparing to have your arms tied. You hoped that it wouldn't be the psychiatrist that you'd been forced to sit through yesterday.

The door opened with a swoosh and in stepped the same psychiatrist you saw yesterday, along with a guard. You rolled your eyes and sighed loudly, so he would get the hint that you didn't like him.

He smiled bitterly and sat down at the chair across from you as your hands were being tied behind your back. You just sat there, watching him shuffle his papers and get organized. When he finally finished, he spoke.

"Hello, (Y/N)," his gross, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Whatever," you said. You refused to make eye contact with him.

For the next 15 minutes, this boring man asked questions like "what do you enjoy doing?" "What is the status of your parents?" "Were you ever abused as a child?" And more weird questions.

Right as he began to ask you what made you insane or what made you go to the Joker, an explosion shook the cell, and dust fell from the cracks in the ceiling. You made eye contact with the psychiatrist and another explosion, closer this time, rocked the room.

He stood up abruptly, fixed his glasses and grabbed his papers with notes scribbled unintelligibly on them. He then rushed out of the room without untying you.

This made you angry, and you struggled against the ropes, with several explosions still shaking the room. But it was no use. You stopped and sighed. The explosions stopped, and it was all quiet in the cell again. But you could hear the familiar sound of muffled gunshots. You wondered what was happening. Maybe another execution.

You sat there for about another 15 minutes, listening to the faint screams and gunshots, and decided this wasn't an execution.

A loud thud was heard from your cell door, just then, making you jump. You heard it again. After about 7 attempts to open the door, there was muted frustrated yelling.

Then you heard a buzzing. The sound of cutting metal. This scared you. Who could possibly have equipment strong enough to open an Arkham Asylum cell door? You were suddenly more afraid of your fate rather than hopeful.

There was a loud snap and the buzzing stopped. The door was yanked open, and you could hear men's muffled voices.

A man in a full body armor outfit strode into the room, with two more standing guard at the door. You were confused for a moment, until you noticed a large "J" printed in white on his chest.

Your stomach leaped in joy and your face stretched into a wide smile; something you haven't worn since you punched Batman.

He ripped off his helmet, revealing a beautiful pale face with ruby red lips and disheveled neon green hair. His eyes were bloodshot and wide. Totally insane. But he was your totally insane.

His own lips stretched into a mischievous  grin. You saw those same lips utter:

"(Y/N),"

Your smile widened and you practically bounced in your seat, waiting to be untied.

"Mistah J! I missed you! Can you untie me so I can kiss you?" You said excitedly.

His face crumpled and he said "Well, of course!" He used excess hand gestures. "Anything for you," he used one finger to stroke the underside of your chin.

He abruptly strode behind you, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck as he untied you. When you were finally free of the abrasive ropes, you jumped into his arms and hugged him. You sighed in relief. Finally you could get a good meal and a shower.

"C'mon, baby. Let's go home," he whispered into your neck.

You pulled away to look him deeply in the eyes. Then, his hot lips were pressed to yours and you pulled him closer, needing more.

Finally.

~~

End

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Word Count: 1057 words