I'm not crazy. I'm not. (Joker Fan-Fiction)

Chapter 9

*I am sorry this chapter is so short, but I just wanted to get something out there. I will try and update again (with a longer chapter) by this weekend. Thank you all for reading!*

“Do you think she escaped?” Harley asked, glancing nervously out of the apartments musty windows. She gnawed on her lower lip in anxiety, hoping the girl had made it to safety, more out of concern for her Puddin’s suit than Azalea herself. 

“Possibly. Perhaps the Bat stopped her,” Riddler mused, picking at a stray thread on the end of his Asylum uniform. Joker rifled through the musty kitchen, tossing empty cracker boxes and crumpled soda cans as he went. Dust covered every inch of the linoleum floor, stray particles floating upwards causing the clowns nose to twitch every now and then. 

“If she didn’t happen to retrieve our things, we’re going to need a plan to get them back,” Crane sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Almost every plan his mind conjured up revolved around getting caught again. Something none of them wanted to do. 

“Well she’s snuck out before, so that’s not a problem. Maybe we could get a man in to communicate with her - orchestrate another break out,” Ivy proposed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she leaned up against the front of the couch. Selina sat across from her, leaning back against the far wall. The rust colored paint was peeling off in various sized patches, some of the smaller ones lodging themselves within her hair. But this late in the night, with sluggishness seeping its way into her bones, it was fairly easy not to care. 

“I hope she didn’t - ” Harley began, but suddenly shrieked, tumbling backwards, tripping over the rickety coffee table and falling hard to the floor. The grimy window she had been gazing out of was pulled open from the outside, a lithe figure donning a red splotched uniform slipping into the room. She hauled a mammoth bag behind her, the straps taut against her shoulders. 

“It’s sad, really, how much you people doubt me,” Azalea said, placing a hand over her heart, her face morphing into one of mock hurt. 

“How long have you been out there?” Bane inquired from his place in the rounded out corner, the shadows veiling him nicely. 

“Long enough,” she quipped, placing her load onto the coffee table, that, with a small shriek from its legs, gave out and crumpled to the floor. Harley squealed again, now glaring angrily up at the grinning teenager. 

“Ya’ don’t just pop up in fronta windows!” Harley screeched, placing a hand over her pounding heart. Z had scared the shit out of her!

“Sorry, but it was too tempting. You’re lucky I wasn’t flashing my teeth. I doubt you’d be as calm as you are now,” Azalea smirked, flashing two blinding rows of semi-sharpened teeth. No one had really noticed them until now, the way they were pointed almost imperceptible to the average eye. She was a shark disguised as a dolphin.

“What in the hell do you need those for!?” Selina exclaimed, eyeing the fangs until Azalea closed her mouth, giving everyone a closed mouth smile. 

“All the better to tear your jugular out with, my dear,” Azalea sang, taking to unzipping the bag that closely resembled a bomb, ready to blow at any moment. 

She pulled out the contents, scoffing as the rogues suddenly swarmed the table, snatching up their possessions with a feverish excitement.

“Oh, I have to ask you all something,” Azalea said, plopping down on the couch in between Crane and Riddler. 

“Shoot,” Ivy said, toying with a small plant plod. 

“Who’s the guy dressed as bat? You know, with the cape and the horrible smokers voice?” she queried, not failing to notice the sudden tension that swept through the rotting apartment, pierced only by a malicious laugh emanating from the kitchen. So that’s where Joker was. She hadn’t seen him since she’d arrived. 

“Oh, so you had a - uh - run in, with the Batman?” Joker giggled, suddenly fully engrossed within the conversation. 

“The Batman? Well, I guess that suits him... Is he one of you?” she asked, and Joker guffawed again, abruptly rounding the couch and skidding to a stop in front of her, taking a place on the collapsed coffee table, atop the now empty bag. 

“He doesn’t think he is, but deep down he’s a freak, just.like. us,” Joker said, his eyes flaming with an unnerving type of joy. 

“Who is he, exactly?” she asked, leaning forward in curiosity, just as Joker leaned forward in eagerness.

“He’s the Batman, doll face,” Joker barked, cracking his neck, “and this is what he is”. Azalea leaned back into the couch as he began to spin his tale.