My Favorite Psychopath // Joker x Reader One Shots

tell me that you love me, even if it's fake (part two)

"No no no no no, J, open your eyes. Open your eyes, please, for me?" Y/n stroked his cheek, but there was no response. Frost shot the man who dared commit such action in the head, and kneeled down next to his boss. The rest of the henchmen seemed as clueless of what to do as y/n. They had never seen their boss go down like this before, no, it wasn't his business partner who took him down, it was y/n. She aware of that, and she could never forgive herself. Frost placed his hand on his boss's next to check for pulse "He's alive... for now" The right hand man spoke. If relieved y/n a little bit, but the blood that kept pouring out from the side of his head told her he didn't have much time. Frost called the doctor, and ordered the other henchmen to carry the clown to the car. The had to get him help as fast as possible, and hoped it wouldn't be too late.

"He was worried about you, miss" Frost spoke as he sat behind the wheel, looking at the rear view mirror from time to time to see if his boss was okay. Everything he looked, he'd see y/n pressing a towel against Joker's bloody wound, her other hand holding his body tight, her head leaned against the good side of his head. She was clearly in pain. The towel soaked in red liquid and the other henchman had to hand her the new one ever so often. Frost didn't know if y/n was listening to him at this point, but he decided it'd be better for everyone if the car didn't fill with just her sob. So he continued "The moment he knew you... umm... escaped all by yourself at this time of the night. He wasn't angry like most of us expected. He was more worried that you'd get hurt, and immediately left the club to look for you. And he found you there" Frost wasn't sure if what he said would make things better since y/n only cried harder. He was like his boss, he was never good with words. Realized his so called comforting speech was only making things worse for y/n, he decided he'd better shut it. Thus he turned his attention back to the road, speeding through every red light. All that mattered was getting J to the penthouse where the doctor already waited for him as fast as possible.

They made it to the penthouse. Y/n wrapped a towel around his head so it wouldn't fall down when two henchmen carried him by his shoulders inside the building where team of the best doctors already waited for him. He'd bleed to death, if the towel didn't slow some of the blood gushing out. The henchmen placed him on an operating table. Considering what he did every day, it wasn't surprised he had these kind of stuff in a room which was specifically used when medical needed to be performed. Now they came in handy.
Y/n refused to leave the clown's side. She held in hand tightly, trying to feel some ouch of warmth, but it was just so cold and lifeless.
The doctor unwrapped the towel to examine the damage. The bullet scrapped a deep gash in the side of his head, half of the flesh were gone exposing the bone. It grazed his left ear too. The sight made her felt sick. Yet she refused to leave him alone, that was until one of the doctors asked if she could wait outside since it'd make the work easier. Y/n wanted to protest, but she knew it was for his best. She kissed his forehead, softly whispered in his ear on the good side "I'll be outside, baby, I won't leave again. Just don't leave me, okay?" It was hard to just walk away, afraid it'd be the last time her mister J would be with her, and it made her cry even more "Please, help him" She turned to the doctors and bagged with a small voice, her tiny body lingered on the doorway, unwillingly to walk away "We'll do everything we can, miss" One of the docs responded. Y/n nodded and closed the door behind, leaving the clown's best shot of survival in the hands of men in white coats.

Traumatic was an understatement to describe the pain in her broken heart as she sat there all alone in front of the room he was in, trying to fight for his life. The unknown hurt the most. Y/n didn't even know if J would make it out alive, didn't know if he will ever be able to leave that room. It was her fault, all her fault. If he died, it was by her own hand. What if he never known she meant it when she said she loved him? What if he thought it was fake? What if he believed it when she said she hated him that night? Y/n survived Thomas's death. But she believed she wouldn't last long, if she lost Joker. Her own thoughts were slowly killing her, just like how J's would was killing him.