An Unhealthy Attachment

A/N - Wooow, I had one heck of a TRIPPY dream a few days ago (yes, I was taking a nap in between classes)...I was talking to Mistah J before he turned into the Joker (I got to 'watch' his transformation, so that was pretty cool), and I had a baby (WHAT!?), and I was like "Why the fudge does my daughter have facial hair?" And yeah, for some reason I was getting a lot of flirtatious attention from men because of the baby...guess babies have the same effect on men as dogs do for women? Um, NOT. :-P Thus why this was a dream! And...I can't remember any more. lol

CH 11: Angel Eyes

The barium lights were blindingly bright when Harvey opened his eyes, his mouth opening in a silent scream as a dull ache began to throb within his temples. He could tell he'd recently been drugged, for his mind was hazy and unstable as he glanced around him at the medicinal equipment. Tensing his fist as he watched his IV drip from a tube leading to his arm, he grimaced when he realized that he felt...odd. Perhaps he'd died, after all?

"Mr. Dent?"

Looking up with a start, Harvey stiffened when a swarthy man in a white lab coat entered the sterilely pristine room, his voice feeling scratchy and hoarse as he choked out, "Wh-who are you? Why am I here?"

Appearing to be momentarily puzzled by this query, the doctor delicately inquired, "You mean you have no honest recollection as to what just transpired?"

Harvey flinched at the memory of the bullet embedding its way into his skull, his hand immediately flying up in order to feel several strips of gauze. "What happened?" he demanded. "Why am I still alive, doctor...?"

"Freeman" the man softly supplied. "I'm Dr. Freeman, and you were found by two necking teenagers. They apparently thought it'd be romantic to go downtown, but when they reached the site of your accident, they found you lying in a pool of blood." Scratching his balding head due to nervous habit, Dr. Freeman anxiously sustained, "Needless to say, they called for help just in time, Mr. Dent. You'd lost a significant amount of blood, and there were several gaping orifices that could've promoted infection."

Harvey frowned. "Gaping orifices? What are you talking about? God, can't you doctors ever just drop your technical mumbo jumbo and say what you really mean?"

"Mr. Dent, I..."

"Answer me, Goddammit!"

Cringing, Dr. Freeman sighed before removing his glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose, his voice rather timid as he wearily returned, "To put it bluntly, sir, there are several holes in the left side of your visage. Apparently the bullet fractured upon impact and broke through multiple portions of your cheek, jowl, and nose. With a bit of facial reconstruction, I'm sure we can rebuild the missing portions of your face."

"No" Harvey argued, his eyes narrowing, "no surgery."

"What?" Appearing to be considerably taken aback, Dr. Freeman urgently insisted, "But sir, if you're worried about the staff's competence, I can full-heartedly assure you that..."

"I said no surgery!"

Stunned by Harvey's passionate objection, the bewildered doctor rose before uneasily agreeing, "W-well alright, Mr. Dent, I'll see what I can do...would you at least like a higher dosage of pain killers?"

Harvey grimaced. "No medicine can cure the pain in my heart, so just go ahead and take me off the morphine. I deserve this pain."

Horrified by his patient's almost sadistic decision, Dr. Freeman nervously adjusted his tie before confessing, "My boss will be very displeased if he's found out that I'm allowing you to mistreat yourself, Mr. Dent, so if you'll just allow me to..."

"Get out!" Harvey snarled, his blue eyes alight with molten fury. When the physician failed to move from his stool, the DA struck the bed with his fist before furiously reiterating, "I said get out!"

Wincing, Dr. Freeman staggered up to his feet before mumbling a quick apology, Harvey lowering his gaze to his lap as he listened to his doctor's quick, measured footfalls leaving the room.

Once he knew he was gone, Harvey glanced up at the tiled ceiling and smiled bitterly. 'So' he thought, 'I guess I'm finally as two-faced as they claim...'

Laughing humorlessly at this realization, the DA sank back against his pillow and resigned himself to an unfitful sleep.

--

When Rachel finally returned to her apartment, the black velvets of twilight were gradually unfurling their dark fingers across the horizon. The moon was round and full like a giant quarter, its brilliance illuminating the city and leaving behind an almost calming glow. If Rachel wasn't so riddled with concern at that moment, she might've actually felt at peace for the first time in weeks. She was well aware that she needed to speak with the Joker about a few 'delicate' matters, but the thought of facing him after all they'd been through made her sick to her stomach.

Flicking on the light to her living room, Rachel gave a start when she saw the clown prince of crime sitting in the chair before her, his eyes never leaving the cards he continuously flipped and placed into consecutive rows. Something about seeing the Joker playing solitaire struck a chord in Rachel, her heart palpitating painfully within her breast as she wondered what it must be like to embrace a life of loneliness.

Promptly shaking this rather disheartening thought from her head, Rachel narrowed her eyes and approached the Joker with even, purposeful strides. To her utmost exasperation, he ignored her as he clicked his tongue and swayed from side to side, his eyebrows knitting together as he gazed down at his cards in disgust. "Not good, not good" he muttered, his hand using the butt of his blade to scratch his head, "not good at-tall-uh."

Clearing her throat, Rachel irritably placed her hands on her hips and glared down at him while waiting for an acknowledgement. She was sure he knew she was there, so she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of being the first to break.

After yet another long, awkward pause of silence, the Joker gave a weary sigh before remarking, "Y'know, it's very rude to stare...I have an in-cred-i-bly del-i-cate self-esteem."

"Cut the crap!" Rachel snarled, no longer able to remain silent. "You and I need to talk, so I suggest you finally get serious."

"Oooh, a talk, eh?" Wiggling his eyebrows, the Joker giddily observed, "Well the last time we, uh...talked, we ended up taking a nice lit-tle showerrrr. I'm sorry to disappoint, beautiful, but I'm not ex-act-ly in the mood for bathing right now."

Cheeks red with indignation, Rachel slapped the cards from his hands before having a seat across from him. Never removing her electric gaze from his equally dangerous orbs, she gritted her teeth before snapping, "Look, Joker, I meant what I said...we really do need to talk, because whether you believe me or not, I actually had something very important to tell you that night."

Quirking a brow, the Joker tried to come up with a good joke, but couldn't quite get the words to flow. Pouting due to having the perfect moment for a gag ruined, he demanded with a rather dangerous bite to his tone, "Well what do you want-uh? A new suit, perrrhaps? I no-ticed that you got a rip in your, uh...thigh area."

Rachel snorted. "No, I don't need a new suit, and I never will...I'm leaving you, Joker."

"Leaving me?" Bursting into a fit of giggles, he gasped out amidst his laughter, "We're not even dating, honey bunch, but if you really wanna see other people, I guess I'm ok with that."

Rachel frowned deeply. "That's not what I meant, and you know it! After the recent developments of the past few weeks, I've learned that I can't live like this anymore. I can't live, period if I'm going to have to keep helping you murder innocent civilians." Bowing her head, she added lowly, "I'm really sorry, but I...I can't be your partner, anymore."

"Mmm, I seeee...how in-ter-est-ing" the Joker purred, his index fingers steepling together as he leaned back in his seat. "Anything else you'd like to get off that oh-so-curvaceous chest of yours?"

"What?" Balking, Rachel choked, "Y-you mean, I...I can go free?"

The Joker scowled. "Now where on earth did you ever get that impression, beautiful? No" he argued, "no...I'm afraid you revoked that pri-vil-ledge the moment you began distancing yourself from the team. I can't have you, uh...running about and squealing on me, now can I?"

"But Joker, I..."

"You tried to betray me" he coolly reminded her. "What's to keep you from doing so again, hmm?"

Biting her lip, Rachel bowed her head in defeat while agreeing, "Look, you're completely right about that, but I only betrayed you because of my conflicting emotions. I can't harm the innocent no matter how much I've come to value your friendship."

The Joker made a face. "Ugh, puh-lease tell me this isn't going to turn into some girl's story on love and de-vo-tion."

"See? There you go!" Rachel irritably accused. "Every time I try to reach out to you, you turn away by making some stupid joke! I want to help you, Jack...I want to be the one to help you get past your suffering."

Reaching her hand out to lay it gently across his, Rachel gave a cry when the Joker seized her by the wrist and wrenched her abruptly to her feet.

"Don't call me that" he warned, his dark gaze aflame as he curled his fingers about her windpipe. "You can't just leave things well enough alone, can you? Did you ever think that maybe I like being a fuh-reak?" Narrowing his eyes, he added lowly, "Now get out before I'm forced to do something I re-gret-uh."

"B-but Joker, I..."

"Get out!"

Frightened by the rage dancing across his normally collected features, Rachel broke free of his vice-like grip and staggered for the door, tears of frustration burning along her lashes as she heard him knock over a lamp amidst his fury.

When Rachel was finally gone, the Joker slammed his blade deep into the coffee table and tugged at his hair, his teeth gritting tightly as he fumed over Rachel's frustrating mannerisms. He couldn't quite explain it, but at that moment he genuinely wanted to kill her. He wanted to bathe in her blood and relish in her destruction, defeat, and his inevitable triumph. He longed to hear her screams for mercy as he'd cut her to pieces; he couldn't take the compassion she constantly showed him, nor could he understand why he'd allowed it to go on for as long as it had. Perhaps the Joker had actually liked the notion of somebody caring for his well-being, but now that he and Rachel had passed the point of no return, he felt nothing but repugnance for her big, hopeful blue eyes, sweet disposition, and her enormously empathetic heart. Rachel Dawes, he finally decided, was nothing more than a relentless thorn in his side. He needed to dispose of her, and fast.

--

Abysmal black clouds blocked the moon and shrouded Gotham within its bleak veil, its inhabitants toting around umbrellas and galoshes in preparation for the impending storm.

Rachel found that she could concentrate on nothing but the Joker as she ran, hot, molten tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to keep moving. The air burned in her lungs as she gasped for breath, but she forced her limbs to struggle onward for fear of being pursued and caught by him. He'd seemed murderous and completely capable of carrying out his threat, so it was with great relish that she found herself heeding his sober warning. As she ran, the sky parted overhead and rained its liquid essence down upon her racing form, her tears mingling with the chilled droplets as the rain thundered heavily against the pavement.

Completely unbeknownst to her, a familiar figure was standing despondently beneath an awning when she quickly ran past. Eyes widening, the slender man abandoned all prior thoughts and began stumbling after her, his hand cupping over his mouthed as he hollered, "Hey! Hey, wait!"

Startled by the sudden acknowledgement, Rachel whipped her head around in order to find a tall, gangly man pursuing her at top speed, panic erupting deep within her breast as she forced her enervated form to go faster.

"Please" the man breathlessly entreated, "please wait...I just need to talk to you!"

Promptly ignoring his desperate plea, Rachel rounded a bend and sprinted down a secluded alleyway. Her sneakers splashed through puddles and grime as she ran, but she paid it little mind due to her concentrating solely on her escape. Just when she thought she saw a way out, her toes nicked against the blacktop and she sprawled down toward the sharp pavement. Crying out, Rachel caught herself with her now cut and bruised hands, her palms bleeding lightly as she heard the man's urgent footfalls rapidly approaching her from behind.

Before Rachel could even think to rise to safety, the stranger took her by the elbow and yanked her up against his solid form. As she began squirming about, he soothingly shushed her, his hand lightly running through the length of her hair as he whispered, "Sshh, please just try and relax, Miss Quinzel...I really need to talk to you."

Startled that he knew her name, Rachel whirled around and laid her gaze upon playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, her mouth falling agape as she spluttered, "W-what? I'm sorry, but I don't know you..."

"Well I know you" he persisted. "I know you probably think I'm crazy, but I've got a hunch about you and the Joker... ...Angel Eyes."

Gasping at the familiarity of the pet name, Rachel barely had time to catch her breath as she woozily fainted into Bruce's awaiting arms, the vigilante's gaze softening as he cradled her still form against his chest.

A/N - OMG! So you know how I've made Rachel have a love for Ben & Jerry's? Well, when I was googling pics of Maggie Gyllenhaal for my Jokachel splices, I found a pic of her eating Ben & Jerry's, and I found that to be terribly ironic...and just a TEENSY bit cool. :-P Yay, Rachel DOES love ice cream! lol