**COMPLETE** Diamonds and Scars (Harley Quinn & The Joker - Fanfiction)

Trust Issues

He planned this from the start, I knew it! I was powerless against him and although I wanted to kill him for what he did to me. Part of me forgave him.

My face was angry. Furious.

"Now now, I know I left you but that was all part of my plan you see? I was always going to come and get you pumpkin pie. It was a test, it was a set up from the start. This is Arkham Asylum, It's been abandoned for years. The officers and guards were my thugs in disguise. And the beautiful female psychiatrist? Oh that was all me. I got you good!"

His laughter made me want to kill him more.

How dare he use my past against me like that.

"But how did you do it?" I asked, I was really interested in how he actually got away with it.

"Easy. I stole bats' voice synthesizer device, it allowed me to change my voice to that of another female. Of course it'd be too obvious if I was trying to pretend, so I used gadgets and some very good friends of mine" he smiled, looking pleased with himself.

He did this to you? What are you doing, Harley? Just end it. End it all. The madness, the insanity, the betrayal. The laughter. End it all with one quick motion. You can't consider falling for this rubbish right? You're better than that! You're smart...well you were smart. Kinda gullible now really but hey, just do something already. You're getting boring and predictable.

I went to pick up the knife from the floor. The Joker had already claimed it with his foot which was standing on the blade.

He looked at me in disgust.

"You were actually going to try and kill me? Harley...that's a new one, even for you. I guess when I was thinking you were my Harley Quinn...but maybe I was wrong. Huh. Who'd have thought it? Well, I can always kill you and find another...more suitable candidate for the role. But please, if you insist on killing me. Go ahead. By all means try" he smiled as he kicked the knife over to me.

I bent down and picked it up. Clasping the handle in my palm, I felt a split in my thought: kill him or kiss him.

How would I be able to decide?

The Joker's Perspective:

Of course she wants to, but she doesn't have the guts to kill me. I can see it in her eyes. They're fixed on me, fixed on the knife. Though under my manipulation, I can make her do anything.

I'm not worried.

Harley threw the knife at the wall. Hmm, same spot as last time. Interesting choice.

"Are you finished having a mental breakdown now?" I asked. Unsurprisingly she didn't answer, just stood there looking pathetic. Heh, I guess she's more broken than I thought. "I could give you some time to calm down, if you'd prefer. There's a nice cell there with your name on it. No, literally. Look!" I pointed at Harley's old office.

Quite a snug little room, would suit her perfectly. She looked and rolled her eyes at me.

Maybe I went too far?

Personally, I don't think I went far enough.

I walked over to her and hugged her. She gradually gave into my affection and put her arms around me. I don't think she realizes it. But she'll never stop loving me. I felt her tears. My top had wet patches on it after she finished crying on me.

Crying over me.

I look at her distraught face. Bless her, she's been through a lot. I decided to give her something.

"Harley, I was going to send this to you if you were ever in prison. I thought you would've killed them all before they even had the chance to put you in the police car let alone actually get arrested. But that's beside the point. Here." I handed her a custom made jacket. Half blue, halfred baseball jacket with 'Property of Joker' in yellow writing on the back. "I thought it'd remind you of me" I said.

She took the jacket from my hands and tried it on. Her face said it all, a beaming smile and the overwhelming urge to knock me senseless.

My Harley was back. She loved the custom-made jacket too.

And then...our fun was spoiled. I got a call on my phone. I answered.

"Uh, boss. We've got a problem" the voice said.

Sounded like one of my thugs.

"What is it?"

"You remember that bomb you set up in the Asylum?"

"Yeah...oh shit!"

"Your call, boss. You can either disarm it or escape. Either way, clock's ticking"

The call ended. I grabbed Harley's hand and dragged her out of the room, forcing her legs to run at the same pace as mine. She removed her hand from mine and looked at me.

"What's goin' on?" she asked.

"Look, this is really not the time...we need to get out of here now!"

She nodded and linked her hand back up to mine. I dragged her to the door. The bomb was beeping to signal the near end of the countdown before detonation.

Beep...beep...beep.

That was the final second.

The bomb exploded.

Harley and I were blasted out of the way of the door and landed on the ground outside of the now burning Arkham Asylum. I tried to get up. I struggled to get to my feet.

I wandered over to Harley.

She was unconscious.

I could hear sirens in the distance. Great...the police and the fire department.

I had a choice to make. Save Harley or save myself.

With regret, I ran away from Harley's body...like a coward.

Harley Quinn's Perspective:

Ugh...I felt like I just got hit by an explosion. I looked up dizzily.

I did just get hit by an explosion.

I saw the burning flames of Arkham Asylum. That's why he was trying to get me out of the building. Did Mistah J rig this place to blow...with me inside? No...no, even he's not that mean. I saw him running away from me.

He...he just left me there...to die.

I couldn't find the energy to sit upright but I managed to look at the rubble made from the explosion. I was apparently just a bit of debris.

Worthless.

I looked around, paramedics, fire fighters, police officers were all coming towards me. Two of the paramedics lifted me onto a hospital stretcher. The fire fighters were using all of their effort to put out the scorching blaze. The police officers, surprisingly weren't interested in me this time and were just assessing the crime scene.

"Hey, are you alright?" the paramedic asked me.

"I...I don't know...maybe?" I was disorientated, in shock.

I hope nothing serious has been damaged.

Besides my heart. When I get out of hospital... 'Mistah J' is going to wish I killed him during that therapy session.