Authors note: The line " face down in the dirt, she said this doesn't hurt, she said I thought I had enough." Is Face Down by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. I love Harley and Joker, but I do not own them in any way, D.C. comics does. This story alternates between Jokers, and Harley's thoughts. Please also note that the title is also a title of a song, I forgot the artist though.

I have tried to at least pretend to be happy, but this façade will fade. Even if I showed my emotions he wouldn't notice and I'm pretty sure if he did he wouldn't even care. Sometimes I wish I was as invisible as he made me feel. I would almost rather be hurt than have him ignore me completely. I hate myself for loving him, I want these thoughts to end. I wish for peace, I wish none of this had happened. Lately he hasn't even the thought to abuse me, he's been so consumed with causing the Batman as much torture as he was caused.

I will always feel compassion for my Joker, as much pain as he causes me I know he's been through worse. I am ashamed of myself for putting up with this, I studied this sort of thing in my old life. First is abuse then he rights it then I'm constantly on my guard not wanting to upset him, but always waiting to be hurt once more. I know it will never end well, and I know I should leave him, but I love him. These torturous thoughts constantly consume me, this fire or pain and wanting is burning unendingly. I can't stop thinking about him, his thoughts and face haunt me endlessly.

I am exhausted and whenever I see him I feel like crying. He has done nothing but stay in his dark room and plot his next move. Sometimes I feel like he secretly loves the Batman he is always watching and thinking about him. I hate loving him, I am not sure that he loves me, he has never told me he loved me. He shows me affection every so often and it's always just enough to make me want to stay despite his abuse. Red won't put up with him and doesn't understand why I stay with him, she is always checking up on me and making sure the Joker doesn't hurt me.

She doesn't know he hits me, I will never tell her because I know she will take him away from me. " He doesn't really love you, he's only using you to play a game with your mind. Can't you see he's manipulating you. Get out before he kills you, or hurts you worse." I heard the voice of my psychologist telling me advice I knew I would never take. She sometimes comforted me, but most of the time scolded me for trusting him.

I'm going to bed, I walked quietly into Jokers dark room and asked him if he was alright. He didn't answer. "Do you need anything?" still no answer. "J are you coming to bed anytime soon?" this time he just turned around and glared darkly at me. Sensing now would be a goodtime to leave I turned and walked quickly away. He hadn't hit me since he's been plotting but I didn't want to tempt fate.

I dreamt wonderful dreams that night of the side that every so often I saw of J. When he smiled at me their would be light in his eyes and he truly was happy, and not just thinking of doing something terrible. I would be able to state an idea or how I felt and instead of him hitting me he would gently place his hand on my shoulder. In the dream we were sitting on the couch watching a movie it was kind of a chick flick and the story resembled my feelings for him so closely it made me burst into tears. Instead of leaving, he gently hugged me, he was truly trying to comfort me instead of trying to get me to be his sex slave.

These were the ideas that made me stay, made me believe some part of him no matter how small actually kind of cared about me. This side of him wasn't sick, or made up, it seemed real to me like this was who he used to be or was trying to be. Joker seemed to be a new person everyday, in all my years of psychology and the study of the human brain I have never seen anything like who he is. He went through a lot of trauma and that might have been why his thoughts were altered, but maybe one day I will be able to show him, he doesn't need to be like this. I awoke around 9:30 with fleeting thoughts about who the Joker really was.

I got out of bed to shower and completely my morning ritual of applying makeup and everything, when I noticed that J's side of the bed hadn't been slept in. Was he up all night thinking of ways to torture the Batman? I soon got dressed and went into the kitchen to make us breakfast, I was going to bring Joker the paper and some coffee but when I checked his dark room he wasn't their. I thought this was strange because normally he would leave a note or something telling me that he had left. I looked in all of the rooms but to no avail.

What now? this was more torturous than any abuse he had put me through. I would be stuck in the house all day thinking about him and their was nothing I could do about it. I went to make breakfast and tried to get my thoughts on anything but him. I silently ate my breakfast and decided to watch some television. I didn't know what to watch because I knew they would all be about love stories. Cartoons, I would watch cartoons, I changed the channel until I found The Coyote and the roadrunner.

I was watching this and with every second I was feeling worse and worse, the poor coyote no matter what it kept getting killed. I realized what this reminded me of, and turned off the TV. I would listen to music instead, I knew they would all be love songs except for screaming and classical pieces. Since classical music reminded me of my happy old life where I was free to do ballet I chose screaming. The music filled the room, I heard a boy's voice almost crying with the passion he put into the song, I could hear the words clearly. "Face down in the dirt, she said this doesn't hurt she said, I thought I had enough."

This song made me cry, what was I supposed to do? What if I left while he was gone?
Where would I go? Joker was my home and I couldn't leave him even if I wanted to.
I turned the music off and went to our computer, I signed in and prayed Ivy would be on, she wasn't of course. I turned off the computer as well. Will nothing save me from these maddening thoughts?

I laid down on the couch and sank into blackness I let my body become numb and my thoughts turn to black. I don't know how long I had been sitting their when I heard a door slam. My heart raced I knew my true love was home. I couldn't stop myself from being hopeful that he was in a good mood, and happy to see him. He came storming into the kitchen I jumped off of the couch and sprinted over to were he was.

I couldn't help but smile when I saw him, he glared at me. "How did it go?" Did I still sound hopeful? "Are you mocking me?" he asked, he laughed but without humor. I felt his warm gloved hand smack me hard across my face. "How do you think it went you damn, idiot?!" he yelled.

I was stunned, but it was so predictable. I did feel stupid, I felt stupid for still being here, in this house, with him. I felt stupid for even being alive, for choosing this life, for deciding to be naive or maybe I was just plain stupid. I felt stupid for loving him and thinking maybe he could love me back. "I-I'm sorry." I whispered softly, I was trying to hide the hurt in my voice but it shone through quite noticeably. I had placed my hand softly on J's shoulder to try to make him feel better.

He placed his hand over mine, I smiled, he didn't really mean it. I felt a warm sensation flood my body at the feeling of the subtle gesture that brought overwhelming comfort. I felt him gently squeeze my hand reassuringly but then it grew harder and harder until he had a vice grip on it. I could feel pain flood my arm and I cried out. He turned around and knocked me to the floor angered by my weakness.

I looked up at him, I don't think I have ever seen him this enraged before. I felt my body shaking with fear, for the first time I was actually afraid of him. He saw the fear in my eyes and laughed coldly. Then I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. My body started shaking less and I felt warm, sweet, adrenaline rush through my body.

My eyes welled up with tears, but I didn't let this show. These were different tears, I felt my fists clench in my hands. It was as if I could feel the real me escaping I didn't try to fight it. I got to my feet slowly, but deliberately and actually yelled almost screamed. "GOD DAMN IT I'M SICK OF THIS!!!!" The Jokers face couldn't mask his feelings of confusion, I thought I saw him look hurt.

I decided I didn't care, I was sick of this. "You can't do this to me anymore, I'm NOT going to put up with it." "I'm leaving, you probably won't care but now you won't have anybody to play your little game, I'm not going to be your little sex slave that you can just boss around whenever." I'm not coming back, I'm leaving tonight. This is the last time you will ever push me to the ground." Joker's face turned from confused to amused. "Good, I was growing tired of you."

If I felt hurt by this he never would have guessed because I didn't feel weak anymore I felt stronger than before. "If you won't be my slave, what's the use of you? What makes you think I want you my dear?" he smiled cruelly at me. I didn't give him a second thought I walked into our room and grabbed my things. He didn't follow.

"What the hell has gotten into her." " My sex slave, does she really think I couldn't find anyone better? She was just easy to control." I remembered the look on her face when she had said this, she was trying hard not to cry but she looked so cruel at the same time. I could easily toy with her emotions, this was the only reason I had ever wanted her or let her live. I knew she would give me anything I wanted. Even now she things she's so brave but the excitement will die down soon and she'll come back in here trying to apologize. Come to think of it, this game has gotten rather boring perhaps I'll kill her for the fun of it. I love making her squeeeal. She really is nothing more to me than just a sex toy and she even failed at that. She thought I could love her, why would I bother with that ugly nuisance. She's more trouble than she's worth, she only hindered me from my plans to torture the Batman.

However since I've grown accustom to her face perhaps I'll pin it on canvas… Just when I thought about her face I saw her wearing a black and red harliquined dress, and she looked beautiful in it. Instead of me hitting her, I saw myself kissing her. This was a different sort of kiss than when I tried to have sex with her, but a gentle almost sweet kiss. Why had I thought of this, I swear I should go kill her right now. Or I could wait and play with her some more….

My heart beat slowed and my body started to relax a bit when I entered the room. Where was I going to go? I picked up my cell phone and dialed Red's number. I got her voicemail, I waited for the tone and left a shaky message asking her to come get me and if I could stay with her for a while. I started crying by the end of this message, I cannot believe I said that to him. I finished packing all of my clothes and belongings I needed at the moment and closed my bag.

I grabbed a pen and some paper and went into the bathroom. Dear Joker. I crossed it out. Dear J? crossed it out. My thoughts took a turn for the worse as my mind sized up the situation. I was in an unsafe house, where I had just insulted a man who could kill me easily. Unless Red came soon I would be stuck here for who knows how long and I might be tormented for the rest of my life by the man I still love. I would be tormented in more than one way.

Was this all really worth it? If I did get out I will still be tortured and will never be myself again. Was all this pain really worth it? No. I can't do this anymore, he doesn't want me so why should I? I looked through the medicine cabinet this would take too long by the time I had overdosed Joker would probably break the door down and kill me himself, or Red would be here. No, I needed something faster.

I looked across the small room and saw the shower/bathtub. I could try drowning myself, it would take about five minuets but it would work. I pulled back the curtain, and saw razors. A wicked smile spread across my face this would inconvenience him and I wouldn't feel anymore pain. I laid in the bathtub with the paper and pen. I decided it would be best if he knew how I felt.

" Dear J, I love you so much you could never know. You may not feel the same way about me, but no matter how much abuse you put me through I couldn't stop loving you.
I'm sorry, if I was annoying to you. I only wanted to help my love, I have always just wanted to ease your pain and for you to feel loved unconditionally. I never meant to hurt you by anything I have said or done. I only wanted you to be happy, I'm not going to pretend like I understand you because I really don't.

I'm really sorry for all of the pain you had to endure and as I am now dead I am your guardian angel and will protect you forever. I will attempt to comfort you even in death. I am sorry I could not help you.

Goodbye dearest,

Harley Quinn "

I sobbed silently, feeling immense waves of pain wash over me. I couldn't breath, I didn't want to. I picked up the razor in my shaking hands and took it apart until I had the razor blades in my hand. I breathed out heavily and stifled a sob as I breathed in deeply. I could hear the psychologist franticly telling me to "put them down" and "stop it". I folded the note so as not to get blood on it and placed it near my feet.

I laid face down near the drain and scrapped the cold sharp mettle down my veins. I could feel a sharp throbbing and stabbing sensation all through my arm, I saw my warm droplets of blood gently roll down over the side of my wrists and into the drain. I made two other slits close to the first one and cried out in pain as the warmth trailed from me. I traded the razor blades into my other hand and started making the incision.

This was very hard as my hand was shaking so much and I was starting to become weak from loss of blood. I watched as black spots of darkness washed over my field of vision. My vision grew very blurry and the light grew bright. I watched as colorful, beautiful images danced through my mind like I was in a dream. I saw J holding me close to him on the couch while I was crying in his arms. He was soft and gentle, he was gently stroking my face and brushing away my tears when I immerged from his chest.

I was growing delusional from the loss of blood. The images became clearer more vivid, perhaps this was heaven? It couldn't be I am going to hell, because I deserve nothing less. I could hear J as he whispered I love you into my hair and I said it back. I knew he really meant it. This had to be hell I new this could never be and it caused me tremendous pain.

I could feel my heart beat slow and my breathing grow faster. I was in between this world and the world I hoped to be in. The delusions were feverish visions, I knew what was going to happen next I was going to be hit, but it never came. I heard his voice it seemed to come from so far away, was this real or a delusion. It grew harder to breath, I heard endless knocking on a door that was years away from me.

I heard his voice again, the knocking grew louder would it ever end? It was horrible, a terrible rumbling noise. I could hear every sound in the world so clearly. I could hear people crying I could hear sobbing noises. I wish it would all just stop. I held my breath and waited for this vision to pass.
The crying stopped, and I realized it had been me sobbing all along. My brain had slowed all thought. The very room seemed to explode, I thought surely now I must be dead.

I'm going to go see if she finished packing yet, the sooner she's out of my house the better. Perhaps I'll bring this knife in case she forgets her place again. I brandished a sharp as hell cutting knife. I slowly walked into the bedroom, but she wasn't their. Her suitcase was lying on the bed, with all her clothes in it.

She was in the bathroom, time to play little mousie. I slammed on the door, but no answer came. I heard a quite noise somewhere in the bathroom. I slammed on the door again, "What now Harley, it looks as if your little friend won't take you in." Again no answer. This was sort of strange she normally would have at least stood up for her.

She was probably crying in the corner, knowing her, she was weak. A smile spread across my face, she would always be playing my game. I'm going to make her beg, and even then perhaps I'll still kill her. She's of no use to me. She was too annoying to even be a sex toy anymore.

Their still was no answer. Perhaps I'll pay her a little visit. I raised to knife to the door, "Ready or not here I come." I picked the lock, It was too easy. When I slammed open the door I didn't see her, she must be hiding behind the curtain.

I pulled back the curtain, to scare her to death and felt my heart drop and nearly stop. I saw her blood flowing smoothly down the drain. Her eyes were red from crying but the rest of her face was deathly pale. I looked across her body and caught sight of the note and the blood stained razor blades. She was breathing, barley her breath was coming in sobs. She didn't seem to see me, or if she did she was too weak to comprehend.

I gently lifted her body, she wasn't escaping that easily. I felt her entire body press into mine she had no strength left. She buried her face in my chest, I allowed this. If she was to believe I cared she would keep playing. Part of me believed I really did care. In a way I sort of did, something about her almost lifeless body actually frightened me.

I took her over to the sink and gently washed the cuts in warm water. She squirmed in pain. I smiled, I hadn't even tried. Her eyes were lifeless, empty and sad. I felt almost pity for her. She looked as I once had when I was still weak.

I looked through the cabinet until I found tourniquets. I wrapped the bandages tightly around the cuts not sparing her pain. Once the wounds were dressed I let her fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. I felt stabs of my moral self and I got to my knees. Fresh tears cascaded down her empty face. Her body was freezing.

After the room had exploded I felt my body shaking, and I heard his voice again, but my mind was not comprehending the words. I felt waves of pain as he carried me across the room. My vision was blurred but I saw the clear, wonderful water wash over my pain. I could feel his body warm agents mine and I buried my face in his chest. I could smell his musky, sweet scent. It filled my lungs and my sobbing stopped, I felt almost hopeful as he pulled me close to him. Only to drop me a second later, I fell to the floor not feeling my body. I couldn't see his face anymore, just black splotches were his eyes were. I tried to open my mouth and scream "I love you." at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't even open my mouth.

No sound projected and I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks. This was the end, he wouldn't be their anymore. He pulled me close to his chest, I was laying across his lap. He was gently brushing the tears from my cheeks and I could feel his warm gloved hand stroking my face. I winced as I prepared for him to slap me, but he never did. I knew then that this wasn't what was happening.

I was still lying in the bathtub indulging in the sweet delusions my mind was producing. I was close to the end and the delusions were becoming fuzzy and less real. He was whispering something to me, he was saying my name. Then I knew I had died for I could feel him sobbing. He was holding me up close agents his chest and I could feel him shaking. I was in the world this could happen in, it was a world were this is what I wanted to happen.

I had wanted him to care that I was gone. I had wanted him to see what he was doing to me. I had wanted him to be stroking my face instead of slapping it. I had wanted him to feel for what he made me do. My psychologist self was no longer their, if she had been she might have told me this is what I wanted to believe all along. Then I heard the words I had wanted him to say all along. "I love you Harley, I'm so sorry."

I gave up then, their was no point in living in a world of what should have been and what I had wanted all along. This didn't really exist and I really was gone. I blacked out completely and saw nor heard nothing else.

I admit I allowed my former self to take me over. When I had kneeled on the floor beside her, I let myself become weak. I let myself feel the emotions I felt before the Batman. I pulled her dying body close to my chest and felt her heartbeat mingle with mine. I brushed away her tears, though she couldn't see me. I felt the life leave her body.

I could see her cold painted lips attempt to open, but nothing happened. I gently stroked her face and held her cold hand in mine. Their wasn't much time, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything, but sit next to her. I had noticed her sobbing had stopped and felt remorse for what she had done, what I had made her do. How could she do this, this stupid girl. Despite who I had become and my anger and annoyance for her my eyes welled up with tears.

I allowed the pain to overtake me and I started sobbing. I hadn't been this weak since she had left me as well. Once again Batman had killed her. I couldn't bring myself to feel disgust or hatred at how stupid I was being. The next words that escaped my lips I could never take back. " I love you Harley, I'm so sorry." I saw her close her eyes and I knew she had left me.

I don't know how long it had been since I lost my voice but I could now finish my sentence. "I'm so sorry honey, I-I didn't mean to." What happened next took me by surprise. I saw another figure in flames enter the room. I wasn't sure what was happening. I lied her body on the floor and turned my head away from the orange brightness.