The Joker

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Word count: 561

*sort of grafic

I flinch at the sound of the door being opened, having been pulled out of a daydream.
I squint up at John as he walks in. I raise one of my shackled hands off the table and wave at him, trying to look at him properly through my swollen eyelids.
"hey there, dickless. How's it hanging?"
I spit a mouthful of blood at him and grin through my broken teeth.
He ignores me and sits opposite to where I've been handcuffed.

"were going to need you to contact the Joker."

I have to stop myself from laughing so I don't further hurt my broken ribs.

"and what makes you think I'll tell you?"

He shrugs.

"I could always get the boys back in here. Round three?"

I just smirk and fiddle with the cuffs.

"you could kill me for all he cares, Johnny boy."

I find myself believing my words and feel a little sad through all of my pain. John notices and rolls his eyes at me before asking me more questions. Pretty basic shit, like, 'where did you last see him?' and 'what's his address?' I give dumb answers to all his dumb questions and managed to stop myself from inhaling my own blood at the same time.
In the end I had to pull off my jumper and use that to staunch the flow.
By this time though, there is a pool of blood on the table and another on the floor, gathered around my chair. I'm covered in it, sticky and horrible. I can only breath through my mouth and have the metallic taste of blood on my tounge, which sucks.
Im starting to get light headed when there's another knock on the door. John stands up and opens it, surprised as a guard falls onto him, dead.
John drops the body to the floor and pulls out his gun, grabbing my shirt in his free hand.

"what did you do?"

He asks me angrily, shaking me a couple of times when I'm slow to answer. A sharp stabbing pain across my chest surprises me, as my body is 98% numb.
I spit some blood on him and shrug the best I can.

The next thing I know, John is on the floor and my hands are being freed.

"I dunno if I can walk, darling."

I tell J, watching him put pressure on a wound I hadn't even noticed.

"nonsense."

He pulls me up and slings my arm around his shoulder.
I gasp in pain but grit my teeth and limp out of the police station and into J's car. I sit down in the passenger seat and black out.
The next thing I know is that I'm on our couch at home covered in blankets and J's sitting beside me, putting antiseptic cream and bandages on my countless injuries.

"hey."

I say, my mouth almost too dry to get the word out.
J gestures to a glass of water becide me, a few painkillers lined up next to it. I gratefully take them and push myself into a sitting position and watch J wrap a nasty cut on my thigh.

"thank you, J."

I tell him, running a finger over his cheek.

"anything for you, sweet."

I grin at him and lay back down, falling back asleep almost instantly.

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