TW: TORTURE

   You came to slowly, your head pounding. It felt like you had the worst hangover of your life. Your vision was blurry and you had almost forgotten what had happened prior to waking up. But, once your vision focused, it was impossible to forget.

   There, standing before you, was the girl you thought you could trust accompanied by the man you would never trust.

   Harley and Two-Face, a fucking team.

   They finally had you, and you would finally pay for your attempted murder on his goon.

You instinctively jerked in your chair, either trying to fight or run away. It was unclear even to you. But, you quickly realized that your wrists and ankles were bound with rope.

Two-Face smiled at your struggle. He somehow looked even more grotesque than when you had seen him through the window. Maybe it was the proximity, maybe it was the lighting. Regardless, the injured half of his face had a purpler hue today. It almost looked as if it were melting off, resulting in a lopsided grin that made your stomach twist. His eyes were bloodshot, and his stare was so bone-chilling that tears jumped to your eyes.

"Good morning," he said calmly. His demeanor shocked you. Clearly, you were speaking to Harvey Dent and not his alter-ego, which you were somewhat grateful for. His alter-ego would likely have been a much scarier man to interact with, with his unpredictable nature and affinity for killing.

You tried to say something, anything in reply, but your mouth was so dry that all you could do was whimper.

"I said good morning," he repeated, his voice slightly harsher. The smile was fading ever so slightly, his eyes challenging you to ignore him again. You hadn't even meant to ignore him the first time, but there was no way you'd be able to communicate that.

"Good morning," you rasped. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

A few seconds passed by with no speaking. You were staring at the pair and the pair was staring back at you. They both looked satisfied with themselves, but something in Harley's demeanor was off. She wasn't being loud or obnoxious, she wasn't laughing or rubbing her victory in your face. She was just standing there, a tight-lipped smile on her face.

You wanted to slap it off. Amidst the fear, you felt the angriest you'd ever felt before. You had opened up your home to Harley, and she had been working with the enemy the whole time. You had ignored Joker's intuition and convinced him to change his mind, and she ended up being the one that tore you two apart. If you had just listened to him, you'd still be together. You wouldn't have been drugged. And, most importantly, you wouldn't have been tied up in front of two of the most notorious criminals in the city, criminals who would do God knows what to you.

"Harley," you said. "I can't fucking believe you."

"Why not?" she asked flatly. Even her voice was different. "You knew I was still bitter about everything he did to me. This makes perfect sense."

"But I thought we had a friendship going."

She chuckled. "I do like ya, but no. It's really nothin' personal, (Y/N). Two-Face wanted to punish you, and punishing you would also happen to punish J. I had to be a part of that. You just got caught in the middle."

"She was a big help," Two-Face added, seemingly just to piss you off. "She was tasked with driving you two apart until you were alone and vulnerable, with no clown in sight. It was so much easier than trying to break into that fortress of yours."

You were angry, terrified, depressed. You felt pretty much every negative emotion in the book, in fact. But, amidst all that pain, there was a little sliver of gratitude that Joker was still okay. Sure, you would have to pay for your mistakes, but he never would. The worst he'd feel is regret at letting you go. He could live with that, and you could die knowing that's all he was living with.

"So, this is it, then," you said defeatedly, angry tears spilling from your eyes. "You guys have finally got me. So just kill me. Let's just get it over with. I don't want to do a song and dance, a monologue, or anything like that. Just fucking kill me."

Two-Face chuckled. "I happen to like monologues. It's common for any predator to taunt its prey before it kills it. But, after this whole ordeal, the least I can do is kill you quickly. You must be so scared."

He reached into his pants' pocket and pulled out a coin. "This is quite the decision. I think we should let fate decide."

You had honestly thought that his whole coin flipping gimmick was just a myth. It just seemed way too cheesy to be executed in real life, but here he was before you, coin in hand. And, you were ashamed to admit that it was quite scary to experience. One cannot understand the unpredictability behind a coin flip until the result actually matters. And you wanted with all your being to just be killed quickly and mercifully.

"Heads, you die quick. Tails, you die when I say you die. That could be in thirty minutes, that could be in thirty days. Whenever I want. Deal?" he asked. His tone suggested that you had a choice to agree, but his expression suggested the very opposite.

You didn't want to hurt your chances even more, so you agreed. "Deal."

He held the coin between his thumb and forefinger and flicked it upward. He did it way higher than necessary, so it took a little while for it to gracefully land on the back of his opposite hand. As he studied the results, you weren't breathing. Heads. Please, heads.

Subtly, his expression changed. Originally, he looked evil, but he still looked calculated. He looked like an extremely smart man, which he was. Now, though, any sign of intelligence was lost. He didn't look calculated anymore. He just looked maniacal. Crazy with no motive to be crazy. Eyes that seemed more void than eyes, expanding into forever with no sign of humanity in them whatsoever. All that depth, yet still so shallow.

You knew right then and there that he had switched to his alter-ego. Whatever result was on that coin made Harvey Dent a distant memory. There was no dramatic ripple effect like in the movies, no real changes to his physical appearance as he switched. You just knew he had changed. The differences were subtle, yet so outstanding at the same time.

"Tails," he said. His voice wasn't much different; it was just a little shaky, like he was so excited that he could barely contain himself.

You had figured that's what the result would be, but it still felt like you had swallowed a dumbbell; your belly felt so heavy that you suspected you might hurl. "Please," you whispered, as if that would change the outcome.

   "We had a deal. We agreed," he said with a giggle of excitement. "You shouldn't have agreed if you couldn't handle every outcome."

   "I didn't have a choice! You asked me, but I didn't really have a choice!"

   You began to sob hysterically as reality set in. You belonged to him for however long he wanted. You would be lonely, battered, and just longing for death more than you already were. You would be this way for as long as months on end. Maybe even years.

   Two-Face wound back and slapped you across the face. The force of it threw your head to the side. You bit your lip to stop more sobs from escaping.

   "Shut the fuck up," he said, sounding exasperated. "I can't have a noisy hostage. That's annoying! And if I'm annoyed, I might have to take my frustrations out on you."

   "I just don't know why you're doing this," you whimpered. "You have me. You've made your point. To me, to J, to everyone. Why can't you just end it? I'm sorry I plotted against Matt. Just please, please end it."

   "I'm a criminal, (Y/N). When have we ever been known to simply end things? We do this for fun. And if I killed you right away, all the fun would end."

   He leaned down so that his face was mere inches from yours. He smelled rancid, likely from the decaying skin on his face. You moved to plug your nose, gagging a little when you realized you couldn't. You knew that soon, you'd smell the same. His torture wasn't going to be light, and if you ever managed to get out of this, you'd be scarred forever just like him.

   "And, you're actually wrong," he said quietly, brushing your matted hair out of your eyes.

   You jerked away from his touch, revulsion nearly making you gag again. "Wrong about what?"

   "I haven't made my point to J yet."

   You felt your heart plummet to your toes. You didn't know what that meant, but whatever it meant, it couldn't be good. Dozens of scenarios raced through your head. Two-Face was so depraved that nothing was off limits. Nothing was too cruel. Would he film your demise for Joker to see? Would he mail your skull to him? Maybe he would send Harley back to the mansion covered in your blood. You didn't know, but despite everything, you did not want Joker to face that kind of torment, that kind of guilt. It would be much less painful for him to live obliviously, with no idea where either you or Harley went.

   "Leave him out of this," you begged. "I was the one that did something wrong. Don't punish him, too."

   "Are you forgetting who orchestrated your little stunt with Matt? I'm not stupid, (Y/N). I know that it was all his idea. He's just as responsible as you are, if not more. He's just harder to get to."

   His smile grew impossibly wider as he stood up to his full height again. "But, now, I have a way to get to him." He patted Harley's shoulder. "Send him a text, will ya? Tell him where she is. Make up some reason why she wants to see him. I just know he'll come running."

   You started to scream hysterically in protest. "NO! DON'T KILL HIM! PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM! YOU CAN KEEP ME HERE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, I DON'T CARE! JUST PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM!"

   Two-Face began to laugh, playfully slapping Harley on the back as if she were privy to some inside joke you were not. "Oh, I'm not gonna kill him! That'd be pointless! What lesson is that teaching?"

   He bent down to your level again, hands on his knees as if he were speaking to a child. "No. He's gonna come, we're gonna knock him out, tie him up, and force him to watch as you're tortured. Then, just when he thinks he can't take it anymore, we're gonna kill you. Then, we're gonna knock him out again, deposit him in the woods, and have him find his way back home. Then he'll know not to mess with me or my crew ever. Again."

   That was the only thing worse than killing him. You continued to wail, which earned you another slap in the face. But, you couldn't stop, so you received another, then another. You could barely even feel the sting of it, it being completely muted out by your inner turmoil.

   If Two-Face got his way, nothing would be left to Joker's imagination about how your life ended. If he had just had your skull shipped to him, for example, he would be crushed. But, at least he wouldn't have to live with the memories of watching your life end. His mind would fill in the gaps, of course, but that was far less gruesome than having to actually witness every gory detail.

   "I have to go to the bathroom!" Harley suddenly blurted out awkwardly, causing Two-Face to stop and turn to face her.

   She was holding her phone, pointing at it with her opposite hand. "I'll send the text while I'm in there."

   He nodded. "Come back in when you're done."

   She nodded, then disappeared to seal both your and Joker's fate.

   "Please," you blubbered. "I'll do anything to make you change your mind. Just please don't do this in front of him."

   "There's nothing you can do. You sealed both of your fates as soon as you agreed to hurt Matt."

   "You could have whatever goon you wanted! Why does it matter so fucking much that I almost killed one?"

   He got in your face again. "Because, you insensitive bitch, he is my best friend. He's like Frost. He's been with me since day one and is my most trusted aide. How do you think Joker would feel if someone tried to kill Frost?"

   "He wouldn't like it."

   "Bingo! He wouldn't like it! So stop asking stupid questions, you dumb whore. I can see that Joker doesn't exactly love you for your mind."

   "Oh, fuck you." You had nothing to lose at that point, so you spat in his face.

   He flinched, using his hand to wipe off the glob. "Once again, not very smart of you."

   "I don't care. Just get out of my face."

   "If you don't like me being in your face, why would that make me want to get out of your face?"

   You spat at him again, this time getting him right in the eye. He hissed, violently scrubbing at his eye with his hand. You relished the momentary pleasure you felt in response, since you knew that you would be paying for your actions shortly. But, in an environment where all of that was coming to you anyway, you didn't care much.

   Harley walked back into the room again, pocketing her phone. "It's done. He said he's on his way." She smiled slightly. "No hesitation, nothin'. He came runnin', just like you said."

   "Of course he did! I knew he would. That J has always been this 'bad boy.' This mob boss. Top dog. Everyone thinks the world of that guy. But really, he's a fucking softie! That clown has got no backbone!"

   He began to laugh, walking out of the room. Still, he kept talking, voice raised a little more so that you and Harley could still hear him. "He's running after (Y/N) just like he would've ran after you. He's so soft! I don't even know who started calling that idiot the Prince of Crime, but whoever it is needs a fucking lesson on what being a criminal actually is! He just thrives off intimidation and easy kills. The man has no skill!"

   You felt anger begin to course through your body, fueling the impassioned exclamation of, "He's twice the criminal you'll ever be!"

   He came back into the room, clutching a large butcher knife. "We'll see about that, won't we? So far, it's not looking great for him."

   He pressed the tip of the blade against his finger, testing its sharpness. It sliced through his finger as if it were paper, blood cascading down his hand instantly. He didn't even flinch; in fact, he seemed to enjoy the pain. You wondered if Harvey was this callous to pain, or if that insensitivity was only reserved for his alter ego.

   "It's not looking great for you either," he said, wiping the blood off on his pants.

   "It wasn't anyway," you said back. You appeared confident, but you were beginning to grow a little nervous. Was having a smart mouth really this detrimental? And if it was, was it worth it?

   "True, but I wouldn't have started the torture until J got here. Now, though, I think I'm gonna roughen you up a little bit. Just to teach you a lesson."

   You didn't know if Joker witnessing the first cut or coming into you already injured was worse. You stopped trying to find out, since torment was awaiting you either way.

   Two-Face approached you, knife drawn. He moved the blade along your face, refusing to let it cut you. It was clear he was just trying to scare you, so you kept your eyes confidently trained on him to avoid giving him the satisfaction of upsetting you. Still, though, you couldn't disguise the tears that were making your eyes go glassy.

"I don't know how he put up with you for so long," he mumbled, finally nicking your cheek with the blade. You flinched. "You seem like quite the piece of work. You must've really made up for it in the sack."

You were disgusted. It was one thing to be held hostage, and another thing entirely to be degraded while being held hostage. "Fuck you. When J comes, you're fucking done for. You'll see."

He chuckled. "Yeah? I doubt that. He's not even gonna get one foot in the door before becoming my little bitch, just like you."

"He's gonna know something's off. He's smart. He's the smartest man I've ever met."

"He is smart. But love can do crazy things to a person. Even Einstein would've turned into a complete idiot for someone he loved."

"He doesn't love me. Why else would he have dumped me?"

"You're even more delusional than him. He does love you. He just couldn't take the pressure of loving you. And now, he's gonna regret dumping you for the rest of his life."

Suddenly, he drew back the knife and slashed you in the arm. You sucked in breath through your teeth, your arm stinging. You looked down, and blood was pouring from an astonishingly deep gash in your skin.

"Imagine the look on his face when he comes to and sees his princess covered in her own blood." He laughed maniacally, drawing back again, then plunging the knife into the back of your hand before quickly removing it again.

You screeched, writhing in your binds. He hadn't plunged the knife in far, and he had done it between bones and visible veins. So, you knew you weren't in for any long term damage yet. He was just trying to scare you and cause as much pain as possible without risking premature death.

"He'll kill you!" you roared. "He'll save me. He'll kill you and that bitch over there!"

Instead of responding, Harley averted her gaze. She was in such a strange mood. Shouldn't she have been celebrating her victory?

"Oh, doll. You're not being saved. The only thing that's going to save you is death, and you're not gonna be getting that for a very long time," Two-Face cooed with a smile. "But, on the off-chance that he does save you, I'm going to give you something to remember me by. Something that will never let you forget who you belonged to."

He slashed at your stomach with the knife, causing you to preemptively scream before you even felt any pain. When you still didn't feel any after a moment, you looked down and saw that he had merely cut a hole in your dress.

He brandished the knife like a pen, and you immediately knew what he was going to do.

He was going to carve something into your stomach.

The minute or so that followed was excruciating pain. He was only cutting the uppermost layer of the skin to avoid serious damage, yet the pain was still searing and white-hot. Your wounds began to itch almost immediately, making you almost want to scratch them, no matter the harm that would do.

By the time he was done with you, your stomach was practically painted red, making it difficult to see what he had written. He wiped away the crimson with the sleeve of his shirt, causing you to cry out as the fabric irritated the open wounds.

Now, what he had written was legible, despite the fresh blood beginning to bubble up inside your cuts.

He had written TF on the flesh of your stomach, full IT style.

"There," he said proudly, wiping off the blade with his shirt. "Now you'll think twice before giving me attitude. I'm the one with my initials on you. Not J, not anyone else. And even if, by some miracle, you end up with J again, these wounds will scar over. You'll see those letters for a very, very long time."

The humiliation at being branded caused you to sob hysterically. This experience felt so final, like there was no hope for you. You were helpless against this man, and even someone as criminally gifted as your ex-lover wouldn't be able to stop him. You were confident about that. Two-Face's plan was so thought through that there was no way Joker could see through it, even being as smart as he was.

There was another subtle change in expression on his face. That calculation was back, that detachment that could only be present in a lawyer's expression. He looked at you, watching you gasp for air as your stomach continued to bleed. Harvey was back, but that didn't mean you were safe. He was still Two-Face after all, and he was still morally depraved. He just went about it in a more distinguished way than his unnamed alter-ego.

"I trust that you'll keep your mouth shut if you wanna avoid another experience like that." His voice was calmer as he put the knife down on the TV stand.

You nodded. Any willpower you had was completely drained from your body. You were truly stuck, and all you could do was wait for death. Why make that harder than it had to be? He wouldn't let you die until he wanted you to, anyway.

Harley was shifting uncomfortably. Her mood was so atypical that even Two-Face noticed. "What's wrong, Harls? You've been acting strange."

She jumped, seemingly stunned at having someone address her. "Huh? I'm fine!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah! It's nothing, I promise."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Okay. I don't know if you're nervous or what, but just be on your guard. You're gonna have to knock him out as soon as he walks in."

"I know, I know. I've got it, I promise."

"Perfect. So, now we wait."

"Now we wait."

You waited. You waited patiently. You were in absolutely no hurry for Joker to show up. You didn't want to see those blue eyes wide with fear as he watched you die before him. You hoped he would change his mind, that he would realize this was a trap and go home. You needed him to go home. You couldn't bear to have any part in the ruination of his life.

Still, though, you held onto a minuscule shred of hope that he would think of something. That he would outsmart the two criminals before you. He always had a way of sorting everything out, no matter how dire the situation. Even though this situation seemed impossible, you knew that no situation was impossible to him.

Your body, despite being marked by another man, was screaming for Joker. It wanted to be saved by him, held by him again, despite everything that had happened between you.

You couldn't ignore these feelings. So, you made a vow to yourself that if he somehow managed to save you, you would talk things out with him. You would see if he really meant those things he said about you to Harley, and if that talk went well, you'd beg for him back. You couldn't let him go if you didn't need to. And since he came running to you, you figured that he couldn't let you go either.

He clearly cared about you, no matter what he had told Harley. And that just made this wait even more agonizing.