* J *

Part Sixteen: Chapter 117: The Cusp

The Joker was awakened by an excruciating headache. It was still dark outside. He raised his head and realized that his pillow was Harley's stomach. He sits up and rakes his hair out of his face with his hand. He rests his hand on his forehead as it pounded from the change in gravity. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the pain would fade a little. But it wasn't happening. He sighs and gets up from the bearskin rug, trying his best to not wake Harley.

His feet shuffle across the floor and go into the bathroom. When he turned on the light it felt like nine-inch nails being hammered into his brain. He shields his eyes with a moan. He pulls out a drawer and looks for some cocaine. He finds a small bottle of it and quickly pours some into the side of his fist. He snorts it until he could feel his headache becoming less intense. You had to love mother nature's wonders.

The Joker was now wide awake. He looks down at his watch, it was four o'clock in the morning. He couldn't leave the penthouse because he had sent all his men away so he could do the deed with Harley. He quietly makes his way out of the bathroom and down the hall. He goes into his office and plops down in his chair. His eyes scan the room. There were Batman memorabilia everywhere.

...Bruce...

The Joker runs his hand over his face in exasperation. He's tired of thinking about Bruce. Bruce Wayne belonged with some debutante who comes from old money, not to the cities number one criminal. Yet, the Joker couldn't bring himself to get rid of any of the memorabilia. He slams both fists down on his desk with a growl. Why couldn't he just forget Bruce? He wanted to forget that Bruce was Batman. He wanted to wake up just one day and not have him cross his mind.

The Joker runs his hand over his face again, trying to wipe away his anger, his self-loathing. So he forced himself to think about his half brother. He fully intended to kill the kid. Somehow he thinks he might have endured less childhood abuse if that child never came to be. If it wasn't for his mother's affair his father might not have been the way he was. Maybe they were a happy family until that whore strayed. Who could say for sure? Everyone was dead. Everyone except the spawn of Satan and the bastard child.

The Joker picks up a pen and doodles the child hanging by the neck with X for eyes. Getting to the kid to kill him wouldn't be as difficult as he thought. He's already stood over the child once. He could have killed him then. Why hadn't he? So he mentally curses himself for not doing it when he had the chance. But wait...maybe the kid could still serve some purpose for him. Nothing came to mind at the moment, but that wasn't to say it wouldn't at a later date.

The Joker growls and rakes everything on his desk off into the floor. He needed to kill somebody. That was the only thing that was gonna make him feel better. He jumps up, his chair falling to the floor. He pulls open his top drawer and pulls out a knife. He grips it in his hand. He marched out of his office and out his front door. He gets in the elevator and presses the button for the lobby.

"What the hell are you doing?" The voice in his head asked.

"You'll figure it out," he growls and teeters his weight back and forth on his toes impatiently.

"You think killing somebody is gonna just fix everything?"

"It'll make me feel better," the Joker snapped.

"Yeah, so will scotch and cocaine."

The elevator dings and the door slides open. The Joker rushes out, gnashing his teeth, hand clenching the knife tightly. The night manager looked up to see the angry expression on the Joker's face.

"G-Good morning Mr. J," the man swallows hard. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

The Joker leaps over the counter and slams the knife into the man's stomach. The man's wide eyes meet with the Joker's. The Joker pulls the knife out and thrusts it right back through the man's flesh. Then he does it again. And again. And again. He watches as the night managers pupils become pinpointed and fixed. He lets the man's body collapse on the floor.