Mistah J - The Origin of Harley Quinn

Mistah J - Chapter Eleven - Wounded

Chapter Eleven - Wounded

Harleen stood at her door looking at the wounded man on her bed, the scrapes and cuts on his bare torso, dripping blood mixing in with his pale complexion. There was a clawing pain in the pit of her stomach, her lungs were screaming inside and her heart was pounding so fast she was sure he could hear it.

"I'm sure your enjoying the view but if you hadn't notice I need some help here" The Joker pointed to a large shard of glass sticking in his side

She snapped back into reality and and glided to his side assessing the situation, she knew he wouldn't let her take him to a hospital so she would have to deal with it herself, she had done medical training before so she knew roughly what she had to do. She grabbed a spare sheet she had in her room and ripped it into long strips, she placed on around a large bleeding gash he had on his upper left arm he grunted loudly as she tighten it around his arm. She left him to lie down as she ran to her kitchen to grab some supplies, a knife, pilers and a first aid kit. As she ran back to the bed room she saw his eyes were closed

"Joker you still with me" she opened her drawer next to the bed

he opened one eye and grunted at her he noticed she was was pulling a half empty bottle of vodka from her drawer and a carton of cigarettes, he laughed to himself

"You still surprise me Doc, you seem so sweet and innocent but here you are, fixing up a violent murderous sadistic clown" he said still with his eyes closed and a smile pulling at his face

"Well I don't have much choice do I" she claimed still trying to calm her racing heart

She poured the vodka into a empty glass she had next to her, she looked at it and took a big sip from the glass and placed it next to her on the drawer. She guided Joker onto his side so she could focus on the foreign object sticking out just under his ribs, she shined a light on it as she poured the remaining glass of vodka on the wound

"You bi.." Before he could finish she shoved a towel into his mouth

"Here bite onto this. I'm sorry but this is going to hurt" he voice still sweet and innocent, but her breath was accelerated. She opened her carton of cigarettes pulling a small red lighter from the pack, she held the hot flame under the knife. She sliced the hot knife inside the gash where the glass was, she sliced it further and used the pliers to carefully pull the glass, the Joker was screaming and swearing incoherently into the towel, she kept apologising hoping he would just pass out from the pain but he didn't, She kept eyeing a pocket knife that he was clutching in his fist. She got the glass out it was in deep at least 3 or 4 inches, she grabbed her first aid kit and took out some gauze and clean up the wound with peroxide, before she began placing 8 stitches in the wound. After he was cleaned up and she fixed the rest of his gashes on his torso, she let him sleep for a few minutes as she went out side and had a cigarette, she wasn't a smoker just when she was stressed which seemed to be a lot lately.

She walked quietly back into the bedroom and sat beside the clown on her bed, his face was smudged with blood and grease-paint covered in cuts and bruises. Harleen knew he was a bad guy and had done a lot of things wrong but how could The Batman do this and till call himself a hero. She hasn't really noticed before this moment but The Joker was beautiful (Not like a normal man, nothing about The Joker was normal) he wasn't muscled, his frame was quite lanky and awkward, his face was chiseled almost like one of those stone statues you would see in a museum, in Rome or France. His hair was wild and messy and had small curls at the ends, she smiled and unknowingly she placed her hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb over his scar, he opened his eyes and stared into hers, his black and emerald eyes piercing her baby blues.

"Sorry" she said pulling her hand away as her pale cheeks went a deep shade of red

"It's okay, I can't feel it anyway" he kept a somber look on his face

"Can I ask you a question" she said as she stood up and walked over to a chair on the other side of the room

"Depends, are you going to ask me about my name again"

"No, I've given up on that"

"Go ahead then, but I get to ask you one too" he smirked

"Whose Jeannie?" She bluntly asked

He felt sick, the sound of her name leaving the lips of a woman he had become so interested with. The images of that night hit the back of his skull like a lightning strike, images of him happy with her and holding her in their apartment to images of him cradling his love in his arms his tears flooding over her limp body. His stomach began to bubble until he couldn't hold it and he threw up over the side of the bed, Harleen ran to his side and handed him a bucket.

"Where did you hear that name" he said angrily

"When you were in hospital, you kept screaming out her name, who was she and who was Jack" She was taking full advantage of his fragile state

"It doesn't matter, their gone now"

"I'm sorry Mr. J" she rubbed his scars again

"I told you I can't feel that"

"I know, but I can" She smiled

Why was she not afraid of him, why was she not running, why didn't she call the police when she had the chance and why was she smiling?

After a few minutes of silence The Joker finally spoke "What's your story Harleen?"

She wasn't used to people asking about her, she was used to asking the questions

"What do you mean? My story?"

"Well who is Harleen Quinzel?"

"I don't even know, I've been trying to figure that out lately"

"Is she good" He leaned in "or a little bad" he chuckled "Maybe she's a little crazy?

This question had been rolling around in her head for days "I'm not crazy" she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, The Joker or herself

"Eh? What would I know? I dress up as a clown and fight with a grown man dressed in a bat costume" he laughed and held his side

"Maybe you should get some more sleep before you rip your stitches" she told him as he was already falling asleep the bubbling in his stomach had subsided

She walked into the bathroom and looked at her tired reflection "I'm not crazy" she whispered, she heard a voice inside her self "Keep telling yourself that, Harleen"