Toxic

Look What You Did

-From Joker's POV-
I sat at my desk in my office, door shut, and my fights balled up so tight that my knuckles felt like they were about to explode. I just sat there and stared into the distance. Damn you, doll. I wish I never broke you out. I wish I didn't bring you here. I wish I didn't care. I wish I didn't beat up Bon- That was a lie. I have no regrets about handing his ass to him. He was scum. He tried to drug her and for what? His own amusement. That's what. I sighed and shifted in my seat. I know that I have to handle this before it gets worse.

I begin flipping through the security cameras, looking for Scott. I find him sitting in the lounge so I make my way there.

I sit down in one of the chairs across from him. "Boss." He greets.

"I need you to find me any and all high-end apartments in the area tomorrow." I say. He raised an eyebrow.

"You kicking me out, are you?" He asks.

"No. It's time Y/n has her own place." I say calmly. I see his eyes widen.

"Oh shit.... did something happen?? If you don't mind my asking." He says. I shake my head no.

"Nothing at all. Just no reason a grown woman should be stuck up here and not have any freedom of her own." I lie.

"Any specifics?" He asks.

"Just something nice. I'll pay for everything. The lease, the furniture, utilities, whatever it is she'll have it covered. Find her a penthouse, would you?" I explain. I had a gut feeling she wouldn't fight me on this, but that didn't mean I wouldn't give her the best that money could buy. It was the least I could do for her. I knew she ran things differently from me and I still poked and prodded into her life. I stuck my hands back in my pockets before standing up from the chair. "And Scott, don't tell anyone about this yet. But especially not her." I say in a serious tone. He nods and with that, I leave and go back to my office. She would have her own place, her own car, it was all going to be fine. Neither of us should be around each other. We play games too much and don't take anything serious when we should be. It wasn't good for business and it wasn't good for personal reasons either.

At some point during the wild storm of thoughts, I had arranged every single single bullet from the ammunition drawer in my desk in a perfect pattern. I didn't mean to do it, it happened while I was on co-pilot. I took my right arm and with force, swiped all of them off the desk in a fit of rage. I looked at the clock and realized in was 6 AM, meaning I had stayed up much longer than I intended. After I find her a place, then I'll go to sleep.

Am I bad person?

Did she think I was a bad person? I mean, sure plenty of other people have said I was and even Harley left because I was 'too extreme'. Did Harley hate me? Probably.

Does Y/n hate me?

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-From your POV-

My eyes snapped open at the sound of thunder rolling . It was loud. Crashes of lightning came peppered in between, waking me up. I swung my legs over the edge so I was now sitting up right. I had to go to the bathroom, so I groggily got up and stretched so I could walk.

At some point between me washing my face off and brushing my teeth, I noticed that the thunder and lightning had been reduced to just heavy rainfall. I could live with the rainfall though, so I crawled back in under the covers. I wasn't ready to fall straight back to sleep yet, so I checked my phone, answered a text from Bones, and then put my phone back down and closed my eyes. In mere minutes, I could feel my muscles becoming limp and the rest of my body reaching a sense of comfort and calm again. And then I heard it.

POW!

Gunshots. No, a gunshot. From next door. I woke back up immediately and decided to go check what happened and make sure everything was okay. Sometimes J and Scott would go shooting at the in-home range he had built in the basement, but it was barely 7 AM for Christ's sake. The only rooms on either side of me were the kitchen or J's office. I quietly walk to the kitchen and poke my head in. Nothing. No lights on, nobody's in there. Okay.... I quietly make my way to his office, prepared to ask him why he decided to bust guns at dawn. I lightly tapped on the door, no response. I slightly twisted the knob so pushed it open just enough to poke my head in. All I saw was the room very dimly lit by his desk lamp. But no J. Wait, is that? No. No no no.

Nothing prepared me for what I saw next.

Nothing.

I saw his feet lying outstretched from around the corner of his desk. No no no. I run over and start screaming as soon as I see the sight. I knelt down beside his body, putting my arms around his shoulders so his head was slightly lifted into my lap. And then it stared. Tears, pouring from my eyes, at a ridiculous rate. I was sobbing so hard I couldn't breathe and started hyperventilating. The lump in my throat hurt so bad every time I screamed out, but I couldn't help it. I wasn't actively trying to scream, it just came out. I had bent my head down to his chest, causing the bleeding from the wound on either side of his head to dye my white tank top crimson, dying the palms of my hands a deep red too. I looked up long enough to see the gun laying inches from his right hand. I reached over with my foot and kicked it, causing it to fire off one more time, this time shooting a hole through his desk. "Please no. Why, why why why did you do this?!" I started crying into his chest. All of the sudden, I heard the door swing open wider and the boots of henchmen running. First Scott appeared, looking horrified and shocked at the sight. Then a handful more kept running in behind him, crashing into him when they stopped in their tracks. "WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME HERE." my grip on his shirt tightened, leaving my red hand prints all over it. I kept sobbing over his body when I felt a set of hands pulling at my shoulders and arms. I kept moving them off me, but then they got aggressive and yanked me off. I protested and clawed, trying to go back to where I just was but Scott had the two henchmen drag me off and to the middle of the office.

"Look what you did, Y/n." Scott spit out. I had cleared my eyes from tears just enough to see him glaring at me in hatred and anger. "This is all your fault, Y/n ." he spat out. Before I could even respond, he had ordered for them to take me down to the basement, causing me to protest even more.

Look what you did.

This is all your fault.