You didn't know how long you were running for. It could've been an hour, it could've been three. But, regardless, you were out of energy, and you knew you had to stop. Every breath stung, and your stomach churned so violently that you suspected you'd vomit. You had to have been safe now, right? There was no way Joker would catch you. You could afford to stop for a while.

   You approached a gas station, audibly groaning with relief at the prospect of your marathon ending. Your throat was extremely dry, so you limped inside to get some water. The cashier seemed to recognize you; his round face was flooded with fear.

   "Take whatever you want," he said in a Southern twang, raising his hands in surrender. "I ain't seen nothin'."

   With a grateful nod and smile, you walked up to the fridge that contained the gas station's water bottles. Your reputation would definitely be short-lived, but for now, you still had it. And you intended to make the absolute most of it.

Your throat almost felt drier as you looked at all the water bottles. So many brands, so many sizes, so many flavors even. But, you ended up settling on a rather large bottle of regular Poland Spring. You had almost reached for a Dasani bottle, but you had heard somewhere that Dasani was made with an excess of salt, which just made people more thirsty. You weren't sure if this was true or not, but you figured you wouldn't risk it when your throat felt like a literal desert. You needed hydration, and you needed it now.

You shut the fridge after grabbing the Poland Spring, giving the cashier another nod before walking out of the gas station. He looked relieved at your lack of engagement, and on any other day, you probably would've messed with him a little. But, not today. You were too depressed, plus, you needed to sort out what came next. Where you would go, what you would do... All of that good stuff.

You sat by the door of the gas station, letting your head loll backward and rest on its siding. You sighed, popping your water open and guzzling a generous amount. It was cold and refreshing, and it did wonders in soothing the persistent ache in your throat. You could feel your stomach growing full with the water, so you stopped drinking as to not vomit everything you just drank.

You put down the half-empty bottle and heaved another sigh. You were gonna miss just being able to waltz into a gas station and take whatever you needed. Soon, you'd have to either pay up like a law-abiding citizen, or you'd actually have to put some effort into being a criminal again. Without Joker, you were just a nobody. Without him, you'd be forgotten about as early as a couple weeks from now. While it sounded really entitled to be mourning the loss of this type of privilege, you did start to mourn it. Your life was so comfortable, and you sabotaged it with your own actions.

You were somewhat disturbed by the thought that intruded your mind next:

The privilege that Joker had given you wasn't the only thing you would miss. You would also miss him.

He didn't seem like much to most people, and he probably wasn't. After all, he was a selfish, crazy piece of shit that killed for fun. But, you were also a selfish, crazy piece of shit that killed for fun. You two had a lot in common. His energy attracted you, not to mention his masculine features that were perfectly punctuated with a little bit of insanity. He was unpredictable, and while that was scary, it was also alluring. You wanted to follow him anywhere, and you were down for whatever it was he was down for. He was so confident, and the way he would touch you drove you wild. Your whole body would heat up, and you would be putty in his hands, ready to be molded however he needed. Of course, your whole fake relationship did not do much in stopping this attraction.

This was the first time you were really allowing yourself to think of Joker in this light. Of course, the thoughts had flitted into your mind at one point or another, but you ignored them every time they did. Acknowledging them would only make it harder to work with him. But, now, you'd never see him again, so you figured it would be okay to let yourself indulge a little. Joker was an intriguing personality, and you relished how he made you feel so alive. You relished the acts of kindness he had shown you, whatever his true motives were. They made you feel so special, and like you were worth something to someone.

But, clearly, you weren't. You couldn't even complete a simple mission.

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes again. The loss of your life and the loss of Joker would require a lot of time to get over, and you weren't looking forward to the grieving process.

Suddenly, your mind started to grow fuzzy with tiredness, and your body began to relax against the siding. You figured that the adrenaline from your impromptu marathon was wearing off, and that your body was beginning to suffer from the exertion of it. Every time you tried to direct your thoughts to your next steps, you were faced with nothing due to your tiredness. Just a gaping void that further reinforced the notion that you were useless; you couldn't even muster the motivation to look out for yourself! It seemed everything you stood for was not a priority anymore. What was next? Would you just jump off a bridge because it looked fun?

You reached a compromise with yourself. You would get some rest, then get to planning. You had all the time in the world, right? A nap wouldn't hurt anyone. All it would do was encourage the formation of usable ideas, since God knew you had none currently.

So, you closed your eyes, head resting against the wall. This particular position was less than comfortable, but it didn't matter. You were so fucking tired that you were out like a light anyway.

Your sleep was unexpectedly deep and satisfying, especially given the position you were in. Both mental and physical, in fact. Not only were you sitting on hard asphalt while using a literal building as your pillow, you were still suffering from intense self-loathing. You had figured that your discontentment would somehow work its way into your dreams, or cause you to not be able to sleep at all. But, you were faced with blissful emptiness, and it was rejuvenating your body in a way that no sleep ever had.

The darkness was calm, the darkness was quiet. It was so different from what your life was, and what it would be like from now on.

Maybe sleeping forever was preferable to what you would face now.

__

Alas, you ended up waking up a few hours later. Not only was it disappointing to be roused from such a state of bliss, you also were woken in a rather stressful way:

You felt hands under your armpits, successfully scooping you up from the ground. Before you could process what was happening or who was touching you, you were slammed against the wall you had just been resting on, causing all of your breath to leave you in one big gust.

You nervously looked at your attacker to get a sense of what you were dealing with, and it felt as if your heart dropped to your ass.

Joker.

He was staring at you with a look that you had never seen before. You had seen him manic, angry, and even bloodthirsty, but none of these even held a candle to the expression you were seeing now. He looked like a rabid dog; his pupils were dilated, lips curled in a menacing snarl that showcased his metal teeth. His grasp on your armpits was so firm that his hands were trembling, and you could tell that it was taking everything in him not to apply that pressure to your neck instead.

"J," you gasped, unable to say anything else. There was a tiny sliver of you that was happy to see him, but the other ninety-eight percent of you was beyond petrified. How had he found you? You had ran so fucking far. Granted, sleeping out in the open probably wasn't the best idea, but come on. What were the odds of him finding your exact location when you had deliberately tried to make yourself impossible to follow?

Regardless, you knew this was the end for you. Any hope of survival you had was gone the second you decided to say a big "fuck you" to Joker and run away. You tightened your muscles, bracing for impact.

"You," he hissed, chest rising and falling like he had just finished a workout. "You little bitch."

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be offended. You deserved that, and you deserved whatever other insult he would hurl at you. You were a shitty teammate, and that wasn't hard to figure out. You could see Frost standing a few feet away, and by his expression, it was clear that even he thought so.

You knew that you would've had to be a major fuckup in order to piss off Frost. He was so calm and kind that you couldn't ever imagine him being the slightest bit irritated with you. But now, even your biggest ally had turned against you, and you were all alone emotionally while being physically pinned against the wall by a man who you thought had your back.

Well, technically, you were the one that didn't have his.

   "I'm sorry," you whispered, tears starting to stream down your face again.

   "Oh, you're sorry?!" Joker growled, pulling you away from the wall just to slam you against it again.

   You could feel your insides jostle, making you groan. "Yes, I'm sorry!" you sobbed, growing more hysterical by the second.

   He began to laugh crazily, turning to look at Frost. "She's sorry!" he cried mockingly. "She shared all of our secrets and then ran away, but it's okay! She's sorry!"

   He swiftly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handgun, pressing it against the underside of your chin. The futility of this all really hit you; you outed Joker's secrets to avoid death, yet here you were, staring it in the face once again.

   You wailed loudly, struggling against Joker's grip. He laughed louder at your resistance, grabbing both your wrists with one hand and pinning them above your head. His strength unsettled you; you were utterly defenseless, and by the sick grin he had on his face, he knew it.

   "Ya know, I oughta kill ya," he whispered, clicking the safety off of his gun. The sound made you squeeze your eyes shut, terrified whimpers escaping your lips. "I saw great potential in ya, (Y/N). I gave you a chance when nobody would've wasted their time on ya. And this is how you repay me?! By showing me that my secrets have no fuckin' value to you?! By sabotaging our missions, just to save your own ass?!"

   He shook his head to himself, clearly bewildered by your lack of care. "You should've been smart enough to know that you were dead either way. But, ya could've died an honorable death protecting your boss' secrets, or a dishonorable death as punishment for your disloyalty. You had that choice. And clearly, ya picked wrong."

   You did have that choice. You could've made the correct choice from the beginning, and you felt beyond stupid at having made the wrong one. What had telling Matt the truth gotten you besides a shitty reputation? Besides hatred from the one man you desired to impress?

   "I'm sorry!" you shrieked again, growing more hysterical as you felt the gun press harder and harder against your flesh. You were bracing for impact, bracing for the most brutal pain you'd ever feel. Bracing for everything you'd worked for being deservedly ripped away from you.

   "DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER!" he yelled back, his grip on your wrists tightening. "Do you think anyone would give a fuck if I randomly decided I was fucking sorry for what I've done?! No! Being sorry doesn't fix shit!"

   "STOP!" you screamed, your sore throat aching more from the sudden sound. "WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING DO?! I FUCKED UP, J! THERE'S NOTHING ELSE I CAN SAY!"

   "YA CAN'T DO ANYTHING!"

   "SO, WHAT'S THE POINT OF ANY OF THIS?! JUST FUCKING KILL ME!"

   "I WILL!"

   He leaned in real close, nipping at your earlobe. "And I'm gonna really enjoy doing it."

   You shivered, causing him to chuckle. Your fear seemingly never got old to him, but you were sick of being afraid. You knew that fear was inescapable, though. You couldn't control your fear.

   However, you could control whether or not you showed it.

   So, you figured that you would accept your punishment, since it was going to happen either way. You could either put up a fight and die, or accept your fate and die. And, if you accepted your fate, that would take the satisfaction out of the slaughter for Joker. Every criminal knew that it was ten times more fun when their victim was screaming, delirious with their own fear. You didn't want this to be fun for him, especially after this confrontation. His anger was justified, sure, but...did he really have to mess with your head like this? That was unnecessary, and you weren't going to reward him for trying to scare you.

   When he pulled his head back to look at you, you made eye contact with him, gritting your teeth and refusing to let more tears fall. "Do it," you said.

   He looked confused at your sudden change of heart, and even a little upset. But, he tried to mask his dissatisfaction with a toothy grin, but the crazy didn't quite reach his eyes. He held up his gun, aiming right between your own eyes. "This may hurt a bit."

   You nodded. "I'm sure it will."

   And with that, you closed your eyes, mentally readying yourself for what would come next. You could so vividly picture the loud bang that would piece the air, the white-hot pain as your brains splattered against the wall behind you. That moment of lucidity after the impact before your life slipped away, then...the pearly gates? Hell? Whatever the fuck came after. Hell was probably more like it for someone like you, with its endless fire and torture. That would probably be good payback for the havoc you had caused in this life.

   You thought about your life as you were pinned to the wall with a gun to your head. You thought about the thrill of being a criminal, and you realized that even in the face of death, you didn't regret a thing about your criminality. You were glad you dedicated your life to it, glad that you had killed all those people and made countless more suffer. You were utterly content with where you were, even if Hell was real. Even if you'd spend the rest of eternity paying for your actions.

   You began to grow a little puzzled when multiple seconds went by, and still no gunshot. Was he stalling to make you more nervous? That was likely; he liked to play with your emotions, especially when he was as angry as he was right now.

   Finally, you heard the bang. You flinched, the sound causing your ears to ring due to the close proximity of the gun.

   But, surprisingly, there was no pain.

   This puzzled you even more. Was death really that painless? You had always imagined that getting shot in the head would, you know, hurt for a second or two. But, it didn't feel like anything happened to you at all. Hell, you could still feel your heart racing... Did death preserve those sorts of sensations?

   You opened your eyes curiously, seeing that you were still in your own body, and there was no blood staining your clothes.

   Bewildered, you looked around, and you noticed a small bullet hole in the wall next to your head.

   Joker didn't shoot you at all. He shot at the wall.

   You looked at him, totally blindsided by what had just occurred. The idea of him letting you live hadn't even crossed your mind, and by the look on his face, it looked like it hadn't crossed his, either. He even looked upset at himself for not killing you; he was frowning and defeatedly pocketing his gun.

   You thought that maybe you should say something, but decided against it. You had just escaped death by the Joker, and you were not about to blow that opportunity by opening your mouth and saying something stupid. So, you kept quiet.

   You and him made eye contact for a few seconds, both of you huffing and puffing. No words were exchanged, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him. You could no longer tell if it was directed at you or himself.

   Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist and began to pull you to where his conspicuous, purple Lamborghini was parked. "Let's go," he snarled hostilely.

   You were in no position to complain. "Okay." You knew that there was always a possibility that he was bringing you back to the mansion to torture you, give you a slow death. But, still, he chose not to kill you just now. Meaning that there was still hope for your survival, which you clung to.

   Joker's driving was more erratic than usual, which is saying a lot. He usually ran red lights and ignored the speed limit, but he was never unsafe. Of course, one could argue that disobeying traffic rules was unsafe, but he did it in such a way where you never questioned your safety. He would always swerve around cars in plenty of time, and he would always have his head on a swivel, looking for dangers. He was too obsessed with his car to crash it.

   But, today, he was narrowly avoiding cars. Every second, you were fearing that he would get in an accident and send everyone to the hospital. In addition, he kept making this strange growling noise, which was something you had never heard before. He was clearly seething, and him seething was comparable to some sort of animalistic beast. You did not want to further provoke him, so you kept your head down, avoided eye contact, and did not question his worse-than-usual driving.

   When you arrived at the mansion, Joker opened your door for you in a seemingly sweet way, then harshly grabbed your arm and yanked you out of the car. He shut the door, locked it, and began to charge up to the house, which Frost unlocked with the snazzy J key. You noticed Frost's expression as he did so, and he looked confused. Almost as confused as you were.

   Clearly, your survival was not a part of the plan. So, that either meant something really good was in store, or something extremely bad.

   Joker led you up to the second floor, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. This was the floor used for training and torture, so if you were going to be more thoroughly punished, it would be here.

   You felt yourself relax as Joker walked right to the next staircase, leading you to the third floor.

   Once the pair of you got to your room, he harshly shoved you inside. "Don't come out until I come get ya," he said dangerously. "We'll discuss this later."

   If a talking-to was all you were getting, you had made it out of this situation pretty much scot-free. You tried not to mentally celebrate too much. After all, with Joker, who knew what a discussion could entail?

   So, you nodded, keeping your expression neutral. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

   He winced. Something was clearly bothering him, and you figured that it was the fact you were still breathing. He didn't say anything back to you, just left the room, slamming the door behind him. You could hear heavy footfalls as he walked away, almost as if he were stomping his feet in anger.

   You were shaking as you sat on your bed, completely stupefied at your current living status. What the fuck happened? Joker was never one to simply forgive a mistake, especially one like that. He expected complete and utter perfection from his teammates, let alone the bare minimum. And you couldn't even provide that.

   You let out a shaky sigh, laying down and attempting to get comfortable. You hoped and prayed that your talk would strictly be a talk, since you would love to stay alive and keep working for him. Granted, your slip-up would definitely make things a lot harder for you, but you were willing to smooth out whatever ridges you had created in your relationship with him.

   You were eager to find out your fate, yet you also didn't want to know. It was entirely possible that your life would end as soon as Joker and you began talking. After all, maybe he was preparing the torture room for an unexpected guest? But, it was also entirely possible that you would be absolved of your crimes. A little less possible, but still possible. After all, you had made it back to the mansion unscathed, which could be a good sign. But, Joker was so fucking difficult to read that you weren't sure what was a good sign and what was a bad one.

   Either way, you would have to wait out this period of isolation before finding out.

   You didn't know much in that moment, but what you did know was that this wait would definitely be the most agonizing one of your life.