Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me

Days went by, and life seemed to return to semi-normal for Eleanor. Deep down, she was still upset over the way The Joker had treated her. Why was she so surprised, he had done this to her before, and she had left him then. She was holding onto something she knew could never be true...the vague hope that he loved her. She loved him, deep down she always had. But he obviously wasn't capable of love for anyone, maybe not even himself.



She saw on the news and in the newspapers, that he was playing cat and mouse games with the police again. "This is what he lives for." she sighed, watching yet another news report about him on TV. Looking over at her young son on the couch, playing with his Nintendo DS, she knew that the right thing to do was to try to get on with her life, minus any more contact with The Joker. Her son was all she had left of any "good" times she and The Joker had once had. There was no way he could have ever been a father to the boy. He was far too dangerous and unpredictable. The child was better off without "that" as a father.



One night, she had a vivid dream about The Joker holding her hostage with a vast array of guns and knives. So real that it scared her when she woke up. She was sweating, and she turned on the light by her bedside. And she let out a frightened cry.



There he was. Seated on the edge of her bed, seemingly out of nowhere. The smudged white, black and red facepaint was back, the long purple trenchcoat, suit and waistcoat underneath were also back, as were the leather gloves. His longish wavy blonde hair was purple tipped again.



He clicked his tongue at her and winked. "Hello, my liiiiiiiittle bunny!"



Eleanor's body was rigid, and sweat trickled down her back and her face.



"No, no..." she breathed in, her eyes wide. "No...not again..."



The Joker moved up the bed closer to her, and put his gloved hand on her face, stroking her cheek gently.



"Oh, shush shush shush shush." he said quietly, with a little sarcasm in his tone, as he stroked her face. "I'm not gonna hurt my bunny."



Eleanor pushed his hand away from her face. "Stop it!" she hissed, "Leave me alone!"



"Aaaaw." The Joker sneered. "Ellie's not very happy with me, is she?"



She didn't respond to that. "Just get the fuck outta here, Jack. Leave us alone."



"Ussss.." The Joker repeated thoughtfully. "Of course. The boy is in his room, isn't he? Sleeping. Or he would be, if you hadn't made that strange noise when you saw me!"



The Joker caught sight of a framed photograph on Eleanor's bedside cabinet. The photo was one of Eleanor and Elijah smiling, last year at a wedding. The Joker's brow knitted into a frown, as he picked the frame up from the bedside cabinet and held it up to look at it.



"So..this is him." he murmered, studying the picture. He observed the child's eyes, the shape of his face, his colour of his hair. There was no doubt in The Joker's mind.



"You never said he looks a lot like me." he said, still looking at the photo. "Well...okay...the way I used to look. Before I became a...freak."



Eleanor shook her head.



"Stop saying that."



The Joker held onto the picture. "Why? It's what I am...hideous. Deformed. A circus sideshow. That's me." His voice was very matter-of-fact.



These were things which Jack used to say, before he became The Joker. These were things which Eleanor hated him saying. She knew about his deep-down self loathing, his deep-down hatred for himself, and his appearance.



"Y'know something, bunny?" he mused thoughtfully. "You are, quite possibly...the only person I've ever met, who hasn't been...repulsed. By me. By...the scars. By this...make-up. By the things I do, and the cha-osssss I create."



Eleanor sat up in her bed, and looked down awkardly. "Jack...I hate the things you do. I hate you killing people, hurting people, threatening people. I hate it. I won't say I agree with it, or that I don't care about it. Because I do. You know I do. You know that's why I...left you..."



The Joker shrugged his shoulders. "I shoulda seen that one comin'!" he said with a smile. But then the smile faded. The red paint over his lips and scarred cheeks seemed to turn down with his face, giving him a "sad" appearance. His brown eyes, peering out from smeared black eye paint, seemed "sad" too.



The tone of his voice changed. The sarcasm disappeared and his voice was softer.



"When you left me, I was ashamed of myself." he said quietly. "I knew I'd driven you away. I knew you couldn't stand what I was doing. And I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me." He pointed to his scarred cheeks. "Lookin' like this."



Eleanor shook her head. "It was never about the way you looked, Jack." she whispered. "The scars...I don't care about the scars. I never did. I loved you no matter how you looked. It wasn't the scars...it was the killing and the other stuff."



The Joker lifted his head and gave a sigh. He sucked in his cheeks and licked the inside of his mouth absent mindedly. "Yeah, I get it, doll...but even a monster can feel affection...well, ocaaaa-ssionally."



Eleanor knew what he was getting at. And she couldn't help herself feeling the way she did towards him. This is what he did, he liked to play people. But she just couldn't stay angry at him for the mindless way he had treated her the other day.



The Joker placed the photoframe back down on the bedside table and sat silently on the bed, pondering his thoughts. Eleanor looked at his face...his facepaint had been on all day, and had smudged and smeared, lines of pale skin colour showing through the white. The red across his lips and scarred cheeks had faded to a faint pink. The black painted circles around his eyes were smeared down his cheekbones. She could see the man under there. She could see Jack, under the mask of make-up.



"Don't you ever get lonely...living your life this way?" she asked quietly.



He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Sometimes."



"I guess you don't have any friends..." she said, unsurely.



"Look, I don't need friends." he quickly retorted, defensively.



"But you need to be loved...by someone. Right?" Eleanor kept pushing.



"Oh do I?" he was defensive again, and the sarcasm was slipping back into his tone.



"You know you do." Eleanor whispered back, unaffected by his sarcastic, defensive attitude.



"I'm a freak and a monster." he said quietly. "I'm a killer. I'm an agent of chao-sssss. I'm proud of it! Love is the last thing on my damn mind."



Eleanor pulled back the covers, feeling no panic any more. "Come in here with me." she whispered.



The Joker laughed and raised his eyebrows. "Um...whyyyy?"



"I want you to. I think you want to, too. I don't think you want to admit it. You'd think it was a sign of weakness. Right?"



The Joker shook his head and laughed again. "Nice offer, bunny, but no."



"What are you afraid of?" she whispered. "Being close to someone again...emotionally? Better to push people away...make them hate you and fear you, right?"



The Joker couldn't come up with a smart, witty retort to that. He knew that she was right. That was exactly what it was - he felt like he couldn't receive love, or emotion. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle anyone ever loving him, because he didn't love himself. He hated himself. He loathed himself, deep down inside. His way of dealing with that was by making sure that everyone else in Gotham City hated him too.



Eleanor knew his silence meant that he agreed with her. She reached over and put her hand on his knee.



"I want to feel you next to me." she said calmly. "You don't have to stay long...just...be with me for a little while. I miss you..."



The Joker gently placed his gloved hand on top of her fingers resting on his knee. He picked her hand up and held it up to his scarred lips. He brushed his lips across the back of her hand, and he held it up to his cheek. Eleanor closed her eyes and gave a little sigh. Then she felt him drop her hand gently, as he stood up from the bed.



"Don't...don't go yet." she pleaded.



The Joker smiled. "Oh, but I'm no-t." And he proceeded to take off his long purple trenchcoat, his gloves, and then his shoes. He placed them all neatly on the floor, and stood looking down at Eleanor sitting in the bed. Taking in her beauty, and admiring the black silky nightdress she was wearing.



Without a word said between them, The Joker slipped into the bed next to Eleanor, and she pulled the covers back over again. The Joker rested his head on one of the pillows, and Eleanor pulled him close to her so that she could rest her head on his chest. The smell of him, and the sound of his heartbeat...and his arm sliding around her waist...for the first time in a long time, Eleanor was completely free of any fear, any negative thoughts and feelings she'd felt about him. And she knew how completely crazy this was...



"You're beautiful. It's true." The Joker whispered, lacing his fingers through her long, raven black hair. "My dear Ellie." The first woman he had touched and held in an affectionate, non-threatening, non-violent way in all of five years. She had been his last love affair, there had been no-one since her. No other woman would have him, everyone else was terrified of him.



But at that moment, Eleanor was relaxed and sleepy, lying in the arms of the madman.