Hello my dear little Gothamites! I was listening to a song, No sound but the Wind by Editors, and I love how this song is just.. melancholy. It just feels like the song itself is written about loss. Loss of someone, or something dear, precious. And from the first time I ever heard it, I always imagined that this is how Harley Quinn reacted when seeing her beloved Joker, in the arms of Batman, dead. Maybe even some of the more loyal of Joker's men. I recommend listening to the song to get a real feel for it, on repeat for a track to the story!

We waited for J to walk out of the Monarch Theater, triumphant in his scheme to have the Batman cure him. There was about twenty of us standing around the entrance, just in case the Bat tried to sneak out. Most of us were wearing clown masks, face paint, or toy soldier hats and shoulder pads. It didn't keep us warm, but we always looked the part. That was one of the requirements being in the Joker's gang, always look your best.

I smiled behind my clown mask. That's just like the boss, too. Fashion first, I grinned at the thought.

Harley was pacing back and forth, her smile wide, teeth chattering a little in the cold. I kept her in my sight as she paced. Not all the guys were idiots, but some were just stupid enough to think of messin' with Joker's girl if he didn't make it outta this one. Buncha idiots. Harley was dangerous on a good day, on a bad day, she was inconceivably scary. One of the reasons, I figured, her and Joker made their relationship work... if you could call it working that is. She continued her pacing, shaking her blonde pigtails every so often, a nervous tick she developed a while ago.

"Any of you losers got the time?" Harley's high pitched voice asked the group, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her booted foot on the ground.

"Yeah, lemme check my watch real quick," said one guy one to our left. He had a mohawk that was colored green with what looked like spray paint. His white and black face paint was dry and peeling, and showed more signs of wear when he laughed at Harley.

A couple of the guys snickered at his joke. I just shook my head, then looked at her, seeing her eyes get target-lock and burn with a fury most forgot she had.

Walking up to the guy who had spoken disrespectfully to her, she quickly kicked him hard in the balls, causing him to grunt loudly, doubling over in pain. Once he bent forward, she grabbed the patch of hair from his Mohawk and rammed her fist into his face then brought his head down as her knee came up fast. A cringe-worthy crack was heard and the henchmen was down.

Dusting off her hands dramatically, she turned to the group, "Anyone else got a smart mouth that needs its teeth knocked out of it?"

The group either murmured no's or shook their heads. Like I said, a buncha idiots. Harley came back over to my side out of habit. I'd been in charge of keeping an eye on her for a few years now. Joker had her stick near me when he wasn't around and most of the gang was. The gig had it's advantages; I wasn't seen of as expendable as the others and usually didn't get the riskier missions. It also helped that I was one of the strongest in the group -apart from Abromavich- but he split after Bats had knocked him around good a few hours ago. The sheer size of me was daunting to most. Harley's pigtails didn't reach my shoulders.

Looking down at her, I saw how nerve-racked she was. Fidgeting hands, biting her bottom lip, another shake of her pigtails, shifting weight from one leg to the next. It had been a while since Batman had gone in. She started bouncing on the balls of her now, getting more and more panicked. I noticed that her cleavage began to bounce with her, so I put my hand on her shoulder to still her. Last thing I needed was to knock heads at a time like this. She glanced up at me, of course not knowing why I had touched her. I had barely made contact with her shoulder before lowering my hand again.

"He'll be alright," I said speaking low, "it's the boss, Harley, he's always ok." I nodded once in assurance. Her body shivered once, whether from the cold or to calm her nerves, I couldn't tell. She nodded back, the small smile back on her lips. We both looked back at the entrance, just waiting.

The letters on the glowing sign "Joker: The Immortal" glared back at us.

Then the doors opened slowly, the guys raising their fists, pipes, or baseball bats in celebration, chanting "Joker, Joker, Joker." Harley began jumping up and down trying to see over the heads of the guys in front of us when the cheering began to die down as soon as it started.

I squinted my eyes, sensing something wrong. I felt myself go rigid, my eyes widening as I ripped my mask off my face, not believing what I saw. There, in the doorway, was Batman. And in his arms was our leader, our boss, the Joker... dead. The guys began to slowly part, all too stunned to speak, allowing the Batman to carry his fallen nemesis out into the night.

Batman began to walk through us, not looking proud, nor self-righteous, or even intimidating. It was all over his face; he was full of remorse. No one attacked him, no one said a word. As he walked through the crowd of Joker's gang, one by one they began to take off their masks, hats, or put down their weapons.

It was eerie, like a funeral precession. The wasn't any noise, no yells, no gunshots. There was no sound but the wind. Some bowed their heads respectfully. When Batman came past us, and Harley finally saw, it was as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. She put her hands up in horror as if unable to process what she was looking at.

"MISTAH J!" she suddenly wailed, desperately reaching for Joker. "NO! NO PUDDIN', YA CAN'T BE DEAD!" I grabbed ahold of her shoulders, trying to comfort her at first, but then she began to fight my grip. "LEMME SEE HIM, IT'S A TRICK, A DIRTY TRICK! YOU CAN'T BE DEAD, COME BACK PUDDIN', AAHHHHHH COME BAAACK!" Batman stopped in front of us as she collapsed at his feet, hyperventilating, her body racked with screams and sobs. I bent over and scooped her up, holding her close as she cried into my chest screaming for Joker to wake up.

Batman just looked into my eyes, his hard crystal blue ones searching my own as if he were looking for an answer to a question he didn't ask. I merely held his gaze and nodded in acknowledgement. I knew what he was asking. If she would be safe with me. He looked at her for a few seconds, the regret visible in his eyes, even pity, then back at me and nodded. He continued to carry Joker's body through Arkham City, all of us now at his back, undisturbed by a single person.

I began to follow him while Harley clung to me, struggling to breathe through her tears. The others who were outside the theatre with us followed. The more we walked, the more people came out of the buildings and alley ways. Those who had hid from the air strikes of the Tyger Guard now came out, seeing what was happening and joined in the tragic parade.

It really was like a funeral. Joker's men were mixed in with the growing crowd. Two-Face's crew stood next to Penguin's stood next to other random criminals. What had been the twenty of us following soon became a hundred, maybe more. We all walked behind the Batman as he made his way toward the main entrance of Arkham City, never once breaking stride.

Killers, murderers, criminals, the certifiable insane, all of us, walking behind the two greatest forces Gotham had ever seen.

The unstoppable force and the immoveable object. The Dark Knight and Clown Prince of Crime. The Batman and the Joker.

The main perimeter doors began to open as Batman approached. I looked up to see Tyger Guards commanding others to stand down, they also were looking down at the unimaginable spectacle below them. Batman walked though the open doors, every squad car and police cruiser in Gotham seemed to be there, waiting. I stopped at the red line before the gate out of habit but I noticed all the other convicts had stopped too. No one was going to risk getting shot by cops or Tyger Guards, not with the Joker no longer behind them. At the front of the police barricade was Commissioner Gordon, talking on a radio. All cops drew their weapons, aiming at us, some lowered them as they witnessed Batman placing Joker down gently on the hood of Gordon's car. Ignoring any questions from the Commissioner, Batman grappled away and the doors closed again.

Once closed, it was silent for a moment. No one knew what to do. Then a gut wrenching cry erupted from Harley Quinn. We all looked at her, the sounds and her cries, it made me feel terrible hearing her heartbreaking pain. I began walking back, motioning to the clown masks and toy soldiers to follow me as her cries echoed throughout Arkham City. The other gang members went back to their crime bosses, some slunk off into alley ways or buildings doorways. Some that weren't apart of J's crew still walked with us, simply not sure what their next step was. Movement on a faraway rooftop caught my eye. Probably Catwoman.

The steel mill was bright with multicolored strings of lights, carnival music, and the Ferris Wheel that had a few dead bodies in it. We were half way through the property when I heard some of the guys telling the others who had stayed behind the news of J.

That's when the intercom came on and we all froze for a moment as a chillingly cheerful voice boomed in the air around us.

"Welcome inmates! You are now taking your first tentative steps into a better world. A world full of fun and mischief! A world where the only person you have to answer to.. is ME." We had all looked up at the sound of Joker's voice. Hearing it made the seriousness of what had happened evident again. Harley's sobs reignited, his voice like a knife in her gut. The crew followed me as we all headed up to the steel mill's main entrance. Once we all gathered in the loading bay, most of the guys now warming up from being outside for so long, they all began to talk about what would happen. Who was in charge? Harley? Or one of them? I knew the signs of mutiny too well. I spoke up, my voice carrying.

"Joker is still in charge. Nothing has changed." They all looked confused, even Harley looked up at me, face paint running. I looked down at her, "J had something he wanted me to show you."

Outbursts began.

"What do you mean Joker's in charge? Didn't you notice he just..."

"What do you gotta show her? Show all of us, Roco!" A chorus of agreeing 'yeah' and 'that's right' replied.

"Look!" I shouted back, "J had a plan for everything. Even this. But Harley has to see something first. For her only. Go get something to eat then come back, we'll be ready."

I set Harley down once the guys left. She stood on weak legs from crying all of her energy out. I brought the ladder up to get to the loading bay office above us since Batman had destroyed the door with the giant crane hook.

"What's this about somethin' from Mistah J? He didn't tell me about this! Wait, maybe you're just trying to get me alone! So you can take over! Well, that ain't gonna happen, ya hear me? I won't-"

"Harley," I said. She stopped and looked at me, tears running freely. She knew I wouldn't cross her, that I wouldn't cross the Joker. "Get going," I finished. She started up the ladder and I waited a few seconds before heading up after her.

Once up, I pulled the ladder up so none of the guys got any dumb ideas. I turned around to see her sitting in the hospital chair Joker had wheeled himself around in for laughs, even when he was at his worst. She stroked her hand up and down the armrest, tears fell silently down her face. I could see her pale flesh tone behind the white paint. How long had it been since she had taken off her mask? I walked up to her, not wanting to rush her into the task at hand, pushing her could turn into a volatile situation quickly.

"He's really gone, isn't he?" she asked me, he voice was hoarse from crying, weak from grief. I only nodded.

"How? How, how, how... how did this happen? He promised. He said he'd never leave me. Everything would be ok. My puddin' promised me. He... promised," she breathed out.

"I know."

"He's dead."

"Yes."

"And he's not coming back?"

"... no."

She began to cry harder, running to the makeshift bedroom they had, her muffled screams told me she had buried her face in the pillows and was screaming in anguish. As I listened, I recalled the task I was about to do, the last job he gave me...

One week earlier

"Roco, get up here!" Joker called out at me, his lungs protesting with coughs for yelling abruptly. I directed a couple guys to guard the doorway to the loading bay and boiler room. I made my way up to the office, then stood by the door, waiting for instructions. After working for the Joker for a few years and still breathing, one learned the little hints and tricks to keep breathing:

1) Never deliver bad news to the Joker. Ever. Have someone else deliver it.

2) Never look at Harley for more than a few seconds. Even that may be too long.

3) Never laugh directly at his jokes. You wouldn't 'get it', and pretending to get a joke would mean becoming the punch line.

4) Always look your best. Clowns masks, smiley faces, toy soldier hats, face paint; all requirements.

5) Never question Joker. Never question Harley, her orders are Joker's orders.

6) Never stand near the boss when he's in a bad mood.

7) Never, ever touch Harley. Don't even bump into her by accident. You may want to put a bullet in your head to save yourself from what J would do.

He was sitting in a tattered red overstuffed chair behind a desk, working on a computer that was jerry-rigged from a few computers we had found left behind when we were first dropped in this hellhole. He looked to be finishing something important. I could tell because he wasn't laughing. He didn't laugh much these days, true, but his eyes were determined and focused on the green glowing screen. Out of the computer a small disk popped out. He pulled it out with his gloved fingers and put into a small paper sleeve he had folded and opened a desk drawer.

He then leaned back in the chair, coughing into one fist, motioning me forward with the other hand. I came up to the other side of the desk, taking off my mask and putting it behind my back with my hands locked together, a habit from my faraway army days. I knew he preferred to see the faces of people he was talking to. He could read their reactions so easily. Hell, sometimes I really wondered if the old guy was psychic or somethin'.

"Boss," I said. He looked up at me, his eyes amused, smile still in place, but he looked exhausted.

"I have a certain job for you, Roco, m'boy, one that may be more difficult to complete, but it's imperative that you do. You must NOT fail me," he said, his voice taking on the raspy but threatening tone that indicated what would happen if I did fail.

I simply nodded once, waiting for him to continue (rule #8, never interrupt the Joker). He held up the sleeved disk that had come out earlier. "This, Roco, this is your job. This has everything you will need to know if I don't... well.. if Batman fails." His green eyes watching me for any indication of emotion.

"A back-up plan, boss?" I confirmed. I knew he was sick and counting on Batman, Batman never failed. Well, except once with the old Robin, but that was years ago, before my time as a clown.

But seeing J put a plan B into effect made me think that even he wasn't betting he was getting out of this. "Yes. If I don't make it, you need to show this to Harley. Only you and her can see this. No one else. And do NOT let halfsies or fish breath take my territory! I may be dead, but I'll still be crazy.. Ha ha haa-" His laughter breaking into coughs again. After doing his best to clear his throat, he put the disk in the drawer he had opened and looked back up at me.

"Harley will be uh.. a bit more unstable than usual, shall we say? Coocoo for coco-bombs, really." He said chuckling darkly.

I caught on to his hint of a joke. "You got something big, eh, Boss?"

"Always! Haha.. always.." he sneered, looking away from me, his mind churning evil thoughts I'm glad I didn't know. He seemed to come back to the present again. "Where was I?" he asked me, brows furrowing a bit.

"Coco-bombs, Boss," I reminded him.

"Ah, yes! So I need you to give this to her as soon as possible. If the plan goes smoothly, Harley will know what to do. Keep an eye out for her. Make sure none of the bozos down there try anything funny. The kiddo can take care of herself. But an extra pair of eyes and ears and fists never hurt anyone. Well actually, they did. Hahaaa..." he began wheezing, leaning back in his chair again. He waved his hand, indicating me to leave. I started to walk out when he spoke again.

"Tell me a joke, Roco!" He said, his breathing still wheezing a bit. I knew the significance of the statement.

"I'm not that funny, Boss. You got all the good ones."

He smiled more, "True, true. But, uh, she didn't know any jokes?" His devious smile on his face. I smirked at him. He may be dying, but still the same sadistic clown.

"She had one she used to tell me. I never got it though." I said, turning to face him again.

"Well, of course you didn't!" he snarled. "Can't expect you to... But let's hear it anyway." His charm returned almost at once.

I never spoke about her to anyone, except for when J brought her up. I think he knew it pained me to remember- which is why he asked; but I knew to never deny him when he asked, I owed him. That, and I wanted to keep breathing.

"Alright. I'll try not to screw it up." He leaned forward, looking excited. "Two muffins were baking in an oven. One muffin turned to the other and said 'boy, it sure is getting hot in here.' The other looked over and said 'Ah! A talking muffin!'"

I waited as his shoulders started to bounce a little, his laugh low and started to get louder until he coughed into his fist again. He slapped his knee still laughing once the coughing stopped. He stood, taking his purple cane with a gold knob handle and walked toward me. I didn't move. He may shoot me just for a laugh. He stood in front of me and even though I was a few inches taller than him, he still scared the shit outta me.

"Send in Harley when she comes back with the next doctor."

"Sure thing, Boss." I was about to jump down when I felt his cane knock me behind my knees, causing me buckle and nearly fall out of the Loading Bay office, but my hand caught on to the ledge. He took the opportunity to tap dance around my fingers until I let go, landing hard on the floor. I heard his laughter as I walked back out to my post. I shook my head a little. Boss sure did have a sick sense of humor.

Present day

After a few minutes, Harley walked out of the room, wearing one of Joker's purple tuxedo coats, the tails of it flapping behind her with every step. The jacket fit her size well, but the her arms were lost under the sleeves. Sniffling she sat in his red chair, wrapping her arms around her torso, making it look as if she were in a purple straightjacket. It was symbolic when you thought about it.

"So what do I gotta see?" she asked, staring straight ahead, not really seeming to be in the present. I walked around the desk and opened the drawer, her eyes drawn to my movement. I pulled out the disk and pushed it in the disk slot, waiting to see what would happen. I stood next to Harley, arms crossed, as a video began to play.

"Heellllloo Pooh!" Joker sat where Harley was sitting now, looking sick, but like his old happy self. Harley smiled a wide smile and leaned forward, a hand stroking his face on the screen. He had his elbows on the armrests, hands together, only fingertips touching. Looking like his sinister self; calculating, disturbing, yet still impossible to look away from.

"If you are watching this, it means that I left Arkham City and ran away to the circus! HA haha!"

"What?!" Harley yelled.

"Just kidding, sweets! Haha haha haaa haaaha.." Joker began coughing and grunting, regaining control of his breathing again.

"No, no. If you really are watching this, then it means that Batsy has failed." Harley began to cry again. "Now don't cry, my Harley-kins," making Harley's sobs subside a little, sniffling more. "I know it's hard for you. Because, let's face it kiddo, what do you have after I'm gone? Your place in the world may seem meaningless. The cold conforming society that can't laugh at the joke that it is, will try to change you into what they think you should be!" He was yelling at the end of the sentence, infuriated. Harley just nodded her head, agreeing. She never disagreed with the Boss. He smiled wide, demeanor calm again. "But you know who you are, and as we both know, there is always a laugh to be had! Hee hee hee hee haha. So I am going to let you in on my final task. Since the Bat-brain failed to save me, he must pay! And you, Harls, you are gonna do it."

"But Puddin', I can't stop Bats!" Harley protested, speaking to him as if he were really there in front of her. She was on the edge of her chair, her palms now pressed on the edge of the desk, supporting her body as she leaned forward.

"Now, hear me out," Joker said, his hands motioning for her to calm down, as if he knew she'd doubt herself. "I know you can do it, kiddo. After all, you have a great plan! And besides, we both know you won't be doing it alone. Don't we?" He looked intently into the screen, resulting in making it look like he was looking directly into her eyes. Harley looked down at her stomach, putting a hand protectively there.

It took a half second to realize what that meant. I uncrossed my arms, looking at her, "Harley? You're...?"

Through tears forming in her eyes, she smiled up at me, "Yeah, found out a couple weeks ago. Mr J's gonna be a daddy. Was gonna be..." She started to cry again, looking back at the screen, the other hand going back to touch Joker's smiling face.

"So listen, Pumpkin, I need you to not fail me, I know you won't. You'll do what everyone thought you never could. You'll show em all! You always got the joke, Pooh. My Last Laugh wasn't getting Batman to cure me. If he had, there would be loads of laughs to be had! Haha ha aha ha! No... my Last Laugh was always you, Harley girl." If it could be said that Joker ever looked sentimental, it would be now. He still looked insane, still demented, but there was a hint of something behind his eyes.

Harley gasped at the news. "I'm your Last Laugh, Puddin'?" Joker's face smiled on the screen.

"Go give em hell, kiddo. Make Daddy proud! I'll be laughing with ya in that big asylum in the sky. He he eh aha ha ha ha HA HA HA AHA!"

The screen went black. Harley just stared at the empty screen. The smile on her face looking serene as tears flowed freely down her cheeks and around her smile. "I'll make ya proud, Puddin'! I won't let ya down. Roco, I gotta check something."

She stood up and went back to the bedroom, leaving me with my thoughts. I couldn't believe it. Harley pregnant with the Joker's kid? A cocktail for crazy right there. So Harley had a plan to get the Bat? Or Joker told her a plan before?

After a several minutes of silence, I went to the doorway where a curtain hung, acting as a door. I knocked on the doorframe, "Harley?" No answer. "Harley?" No answer. I was never allowed back behind the curtain before, but after more silence, I risked it. Pulling the curtain aside, I was shocked at what I saw. It was lit with strings of lights and had child-like drawings and writing on the walls. Words and phrases that gave me chills. Images of the Bat being killed, smiley faces everywhere, kiss marks around everything that had Joker's name on it or his picture. In the left corner was a mattress with mismatch blankets, sheets and two pillows. Joker's suits were hung in an old, rotting wardrobe, next to that was a very small file cabinet that looked like Harley's makeshift dresser with clothes poking out of it. In one far corner was a small, rickety baby crib, with a small padded bed and a pillow in it. I saw a small doorway in the other far corner of the bedroom.

I walked over, but halted when Harley came into view. She was sitting on a toilet seat, crying, with several pregnancy tests scattered around her on the floor. She was crying into her hands and rocking back and forth.

"... Harley?" I said, cautious of the ominous air around her.

"It's gone. Mr. J's... our.. it's gone," she whispered while clutching her stomach, still rocking. She looked up at me, I'd never seen her so unhinged before. Her eyes looked around paranoid. I remembered Joker's words. She must complete my final orders.

"I'm sorry, Harley, about the baby." I crouched down to try to get her to look at me. I knew how crazy this broad was on a daily basis, I couldn't imagine what she'd be like through two back-to-back tragedies.

"What do I do, Roco? I got nothin left... Puddin is gone.. the baby.. is.. " she began sobbing, her body rocking back and forth faster and faster.

"Harley. Harley, look at me.. HARLEY!" I yelled, grabbing her shoulders forcing her to stand up with me. "You still got Joker's orders. You're his Last Laugh, Harls. Don't let him down now. I know it hurts, but use it. What would Joker do?"

At that last part, she looked up at me, those baby blues snapping back to the present, as if I had spoken life wisdom. "He.. he would laugh.. my Pud would laugh..." She stared at a point in my chest. Reading a thought or staring into the abyss, I didn't know.

Then she did something I didn't expect. She began laughing. Hysterically. Her whole body shook with her high pitch laughter. She really did sound like the Boss when she laughed. She stopped laughing abruptly the way he used to, and looked down at the tattoos of his face on her hips and arms.

"Anything for you, Puddin, anything for you," she said, stroking the tattoos lovingly. Her head then popped up and she walked with purpose toward a table in the room filled with all kinds of makeup. She expertly reapplied her face paint, putting more black then usual around her eyes, streaking it down with the tear stains. She reached for the red lipstick, but paused and grabbed an untouched tube of black lipstick, smearing it across her lips. She then grabbed a box that was under the tables, it was boxes with pictures of women's faces on them. She ripped two of them open and mixed liquids together in a bottle, then shook them violently. Going into the bathroom she pulled her ties out of her hair, the pigtails going loose. You could tell she almost never took them down, it must hurt. Using both hands, she took one of the small bottles and squirted it all over her hair, using her hands to smear it everywhere. I just stood there, watching the transformation of her go from bright and bubbly to depressed and deranged.

An hour later, the guys were all gathered in the loading bay. I stood by the door, all of them looking up. I looked back as Harley walked up, the image of her making the guys murmur. There in more black than red was Harley. Her face pale, eyes coal black, tear tracks down her face, streaking the black paint into the white down her face. Her bright blue eyes looked around with a psychotic gleam I had only seen in one other before. She had put a small veil in front of her face, added lace and fur lining to her leather. But more noticeably, was her black dyed hair. She looked messed up.

"Listen up, losers! Mr. J gave me a mission. Gave all of us a mission," she started, one hand on her hip, the other slightly behind her back, "And I'm in charge. Anyone got a problem with that? Speak up now!" Some of the guys looked at one another. But only one spoke up.

"Yeah, I do. Now that J is gone, why should we listen to his bitch?"

...idiot.

Harley looked at the goon who had spoken, her smile, growing wide on her face. "That's a good question! Here's your answer." Harley pulled the hand that had been hiding behind her back to the front, at first glance I thought it was a gun, but then quickly saw what it really was. Someone yelled 'Grenade!' as most of the guys scattered or jumped away to dodge but not soon enough. Harley had fired a grenade launcher at the idiot who had challenged her, effectively taking out two guys standing near him.

When the smoke cleared all the guys looked up at her, wary of any weapons she may fire off still. "Anyone else got somethin' to add?!" she screamed at them. All shook their heads, no one speaking. They could tell she wasn't playing around. "Good! Because get ready, boys, we got a Bat to kill!" She stood, both hands on her hips, looking down at her crew with a look of madness and evil that would have had Joker laughing.

Turning back into the loading bay office, Harley went to sit in Joker's old chair. I leaned up against the doorframe, looking back at her. Her legs crossed, hands gripping the armrests as she laughed and cried at the same time. It occurred to me that I may have to be as wary of her as I had been with J.

"See you soon, Pud. We'll be together soon.. HA ha ha HA HA HA Ha!"

Please let me know if you like it. Just a one-shot. I am still writing Love at First Laugh.

This is the events of Arkham City, the end of the game, from the point of view of a loyal henchmen to Joker, Roco. And he is the one entrusted with a final task from the King of Comedy himself. I don't own Batman, DC Comics, DC Universe, ect.

*Unstoppable Force and Immovable Object is, as I'm sure you know, a quote from The Dark Knight movie. I just loved it, and it seemed to fit perfectly.