XXIII

Totally sappy pre-chapter A/N: PAPER PLANES HIT 6,000 READS!!! Excuse me while I literally sob. This book is barely over a month old and I am literally shook by how loved it is already. I've never written anything so fast in my life, and it's because of you guys!!! I always look forward to your reactions and comments, and even when I'm discouraged about a chapter, I'm always so pleased to see the end results. SO, enough of my rambling, and enjoy this unusually short filler chapter (pls don't hate me)!

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"Scars are not signs of weakness, they are signs of survival and endurance."
—Rodney A. Winters

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"What's this one from?" Ember whispered, her fingertips grazing over the slightly raised flesh above his left hip.

"Hmm." Joker hummed, rotating his body on the bed so that the scar would be on display. It sat cleanly above the bone of his hip, etched sloppily into the skin as it healed a light pink color. The scar was about half an inch wide, and traveled nearly three inches across the flesh.

"Some fucker stabbed me on my twenty-first birthday." He grumbled, maneuvering the waist of his trousers so that he could show her an additional scar underneath the pant line.

"And this," Joker began, smacking his lips together enthusiastically. "Is an array of cigarette burns in the sha-pe of a heart."

Ember's jaw slackened, her fingers darting outward to caress the raised skin that did, in fact, resemble a heart.

"Wha–?"

"Carol-ine." He bluntly stated, masking the blemish with his pinstripe pants once again as he cupped Ember's jaw. "Some-uh, girl I slept with several times. She was ob-sessed with me."

Ember switched positions against the purple comforter, bending downward to pry the waist of his pants down once again. She pressed a soft kiss to the destroyed flesh as Joker merely groaned in response.

His bare fingers laced into her hair, massaging her scalp as she continued her gentle assault on his marred hip with her lips.

"Why'd you let her burn you so many times?"

"Passe-d out drunk. Didn't feel a thing."

Ember repositioned herself, her forehead grazing his as she lightly placed her palm on his bare shoulder, urging him to lay flatly on the bed.

The painted-face man raised a brow, collapsing onto his back as the scars on the his left side became visible.

Ember sucked in a dramatic breath, focusing solely on the faded wound directly underneath his ribcage.

A bullet wound?

"Tell me about this one." She whispered, the pad of her thumb tracing the indented skin as Joker brought his arm upwards, claiming her jaw between his fingers.

"My first injury," he reminisced, Michelle's frantic expression flooding his mind as he remembered that day very, very clearly. "My-uh, Mom taugh-t me how to stitch myself up. Some-uh, good old fashioned tough love."

"She sounds amazing, Joker. She was really good to you."

Joker sighed, his fingers grazing the bone of her jaw as he routinely wet his lips. "I wasn't good enough to her."

"Did you kill her?" Ember pressed.

Joker openly scoffed at her inquiry, his breath hitching in his throat at the mere idea of murdering Michelle. He'd gotten close, so close, but he never did. How could he murder the woman who saved his life?

"No." He spat, painted brows knit together in vexation.

"Then you were good enough to her, Joker. Sparing her life means the world."

The pair lay in a tense silence, Ember's eyes trailing over those darling tattoos of his a hand darted outwards to claim his right arm.

"Explain the Old Man River."

Joker sighed, his gaze trailing over the neat penmanship that littered his arm as Ember keenly watched.

"I dunno," he lowly began, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of her Foreigner t-shirt. "I just-uh, feel like I'm older than I really am, I suppose. Like, my life is going by quicker than I in-tend for it to."

"You feel like an old man? On a river?" Ember dryly joked, her chapping lips tugging into a smirk as she cradled his white jaw in her hand.

"In a paddleboat." Joker mused, Ember's lips catching his in a brief, closed-mouth kiss.

The man sighed in content, his colorant-stained fingers twisting firmly into her knotted hair as he tugged her mouth back down to his when she attempted to pull away too soon. Ember let out an amused giggle against his painted lips, her upper half resting on his bare chest as she molded into his frame.

"Joker?" She whispered, her breath fanning over his lips as an array of goosebumps littered his skin.

"Hmm?"

"I have a request." The woman said, her elbows resting on his chest as he craned his neck, creating that adorable double chin of his as she laughed openly at the sight.

A genuine smile tugged at his scars, his left hand burying itself into her mess of hair as he let the strands slip delicately between his fingers.

"Fine," he playfully grumbled.
"I guess I'll stick it in your asshole."

Ember's jaw fell slack, an inhumane noise tumbling from her as she faintly slapped his chest in response.

"You're disgusting." She scoffed, only to let out an enthusiastic yelp when the man tightly gripped onto her hips, rolling her onto her back as he balanced his weight on top of her.

"Oh c'mon, toots," he grinned, latching his lips onto that sensitive spot on her neck as she squirmed beneath him. "I've-uh, got a bi-t of a kinky side. Don't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the discussion we're having right now." Ember politely scolded, her eyes shifting backwards in her skull when his tongue suddenly lapped out to meet her flesh.

"Joker." She strained, her palms gently pressing at his shoulders as she tugged his desperate lips from her neck.

The man groaned irritably, his head tearing from the crook of her neck to meet her gaze. The red paint on his mouth was smeared slightly, and she knew for a fact that the evidence of his lips was plastered all over her flesh.

"Since I'm not your little prisoner anymore, I was wondering if I could have a bit of freedom?" She innocently wondered, lacing her arms around his neck as he towered above her.

"Who says you're no-t my little prisoner anymore?" Joker hissed, dipping downward to capture her lips once more.

"Joker." Ember scolded, growing slightly annoyed by his response as he tore his lips from her face with a sigh.

His elbows rest on either side of her skull, his hips level with hers as she curled her legs around his waist with ease.

"Wha-t kind of freedom, doll?"

"I don't know," Ember began, avoiding Joker's solid stare at her lips as she struggled to spit out her thoughts. "Just me time, I guess. I want to be able to go drink some coffee and read a book. Get some fresh air. Do things on my own, y'know? I can get a job—"

"You don't need a job." Joker countered.
"I have all the money we'll ever need."

"You know what I mean." Ember pressed, quickly pressing a kiss to his pleading lips before resuming her banter. "I just want to feel like a normal person again."

"Okay." Joker shrugged, rolling off of the woman as he swung his legs off the bed.

"Okay?" Ember's heart lept into her throat, her legs beginning to wobble at the idea of finally being out in public by herself again.

Joker retrieved a discarded purple tee from the carpet, tugging it over his head as his toned chest and that familiar paper plane necklace disappeared from sight.

"I'll-uh, be back."

Ember raised a brow questioningly. "Where are you going?"

However, her question remained unanswered when Joker simply walked out of his bedroom door, isolating the woman.

Ember sunk into the mattress, the bulky comforter enveloping her tiny frame as her eyes scanned the room. Small slivers of light escaped through the cracks in the blackout curtains, the walls littered with bloody laughter as the blue hued screensaver on the desktop illuminated the room.

Ember crawled towards the edge of the implausibly soft bed on all fours, the comforter mangling around the bone of her ankle as she hastily kicked it off. The usual multitude of papers coated the surface of the wooden desk, meticulous doodles of Joker himself and the infamous Batman littered the pages.

The woman hovered over the surface, her feet planted firmly on the carpet as an electric purple iPod crossed her line of vision. She sucked in a sharp breath, her slim fingers darting outward to claim the object as the screen instantly illuminated underneath her touch.

Within moments, the soothing sound of Simple Mind's "Don't You (Forget About Me)" filled the void, ricocheting off the thick walls as shivers ran down her spine.

Her eyes screwed tightly shut, a sudden memory bombarding her mind as her knees began to wobble. Fifteen years prior, Ember and Jackson had sat in the living room of Evelyn's Orphanage late at night, isolated in front of the television as The Breakfast Club played in the background. However, the pair didn't seem to catch hardly any of the film, as they'd spent nearly the entirety swapping spit.

"Ember?" A voice called, the iPod tumbling from her grasp as Papa Roach began to blare.

Ember fell to the ground swiftly, her hands shaking as she claimed the electronic device, suppressing the music as Horton stood dumbfounded in the doorway.

"Everything alright?" He asked, brows raised as Ember still sat collapsed on the carpet.

"Y-Yes," Ember stammered, struggling to catch her breath as her hand gripped onto the desk, pulling herself up from the ground with ease. "I'm just being nosy."

"At least you admit to it." Horton chuckled, burying his bruised knuckles into his jean pockets. "The boss has a surprise for you outside."

Ember's breaths grew jagged, trembles wracking through her limbs as she contemplated every single possible "surprise" that Joker could possibly have for her.

Please don't be a dead body please don't be a dead body please don't be a dead body.

"You coming?" Horton called, the doorway vacant as Ember crashed back down to Earth once again. She had a very bad habit of zoning out.

Ember exited the bedroom, her fingers lacing together into a fist as her palms grew clammy.

Horton walked with a slight skip in his step, nearly mirroring Joker's walk as Ember grew rather curious. Something was rather odd with Horton, especially in regards to The Joker, and Ember couldn't help but want to pick his brain for a plausible answer.

The house was unusually hot today, or maybe Ember was just that fucking anxious about Joker's surprise that she began to profusely sweat.

"Can you just tell me what it is?" She blurted, following closely on the henchmans heel as he merely chuckled in response.

"We're literally about to walk out the door, you'll see it in half a second, if that."

Horton swung the front door open widely, stepping aside to allow Ember to exit as her heart rapped thickly against her ribcage.

She nearly fainted at the sight of Joker, leaned casually against the side of a charcoal 1982 Mustang convertible, his painted lips pulled into a broad smirk as his palms rest on the passenger door.

"Hiya, toots." He giddly greeted, uncrossing his boot-clad feet as his arms laced across his chest. "Whatcha think?"

Ember's jaw fell slack, her gaze roaming the beautiful car as she slowly approached the man laid lax against it. "It's really, really nice."

"It's yours."

If it were even possible at this point, Ember's jaw lowered even further, an amused expression plastered on Joker's features as he outstretched an arm in the direction of the vehicle.

"Mine?" Ember gawked, her fingers gliding over the smooth surface of the hood as Joker eyed her intently.

"All yours, baby girl."

"Oh my god! Joker!" The woman screeched, thrusting her arms abruptly around his neck. Joker stumbled backwards at the sudden contact, strands of flourescent curls tugging between her arms as she enveloped him into a hug.

"I love it! Thank you!" She added, jumping up and down in glee as she tore the set of keys from the clowns hand. "Can I go out? Just for some coffee or something?"

"Sure, doll." Joker grinned, slapping a generic mobile phone into her open palm. "You answer when I call, go-t it?"

"Got it." Ember smiled, pressing a swift kiss to his open mouth before climbing into the vehicle.

"Oh, wait! Can Horton grab my wallet from my room before I forget?"

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Freedom.

The feeling Ember felt the moment she sank into a wooden chair in the corner of a bookstore café was nothing less than bliss.

Although she'd grown to love living with Joker and Horton in the matted old house in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, the woman truly did appreciate some alone time in public.

She felt like a human once again.

Ember flipped through the old pages of a book of poetry, her fingers gliding between the wilted, yellowed pages as her gaze scanned the print. She swallowed a thick lump in her throat when her gaze lingered over a specific page, the name E. E. Cummings scribbled in italics at the top.

I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart.

"Excuse me?" A small voice chirped.

Ember flinched at the sudden noise, her hand grazing the plastic cup full of her flavored iced coffee as it nearly toppled over. A middle-aged woman stood beside her table, a purse clutched to her chest as she weakly smiled.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." She rambled, taking a seat opposite Ember, who glared at her with raised brows.

"Uh–"

The woman brushed a stringy strand of light brown hair from her face, tinted slightly with a grey hue as she dropped her leather purse at her feet.

"This is going to sound absolutely bonkers, but I saw your necklace and had to approach you."

Ember glanced downward, her chin meeting her chest as she stole a glance at the paper plane pendant that rest on top of her shirt.

"I saw the poetry book and knew it was you for sure." The woman added. She looked nearly sixty, her eyes sunken slightly into her skull as deep bags cradled her bright orbs.

Ember shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the pages gliding closed as she set the book down on the table, adjacent to her coffee.

"I don't think we've met?" The young woman stated.

Mystery woman shook her hand in the air, a genuine grin plastered on her somewhat wrinkled features as she chuckled in response.

"No, we haven't. I must seem super creepy right now."

Ember stared blankly at the woman, words failing her as she shifted awkwardly in place.

"Anyways, I know about you because of my son. My name is Michelle Napier."

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A/N: Typically I don't leave cliffhangers, BUT... sorry lol.

I had a Heath marathon last night, which is why this chapter is way overdue. I watched Brokeback, Casanova and Candy and now I'm an emotional nightmare and I miss him so much I can hardly stand it.

Sorry for the length of this chapter. I know this was a bleh chapter, but I know you guys will really like the next one. x

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