The Joker x Reader - “Gone”
Losing your daughter was a nightmare. Nothing compares to the horrible feeling of not having her around anymore. To say your relationship with The Joker is under pressure would be an understatement. The fact that you won’t listen to his solution to your grief is making things harder and harder.
You barely speak to each other anymore. There are days when the only question you ask is if he wants coffee and that’s it. Most of the times, J doesn’t even bother to answer, just nods a yes or a no.
So much silence without her…Numbed by sorrow and misery, you don’t even know how you make it from one week to another. You still sleep in the same bed with the Joker, keeping your distance. He can barely tolerate your presence also. Confined to the prison of your grief, everything that kept both of you together seems nothing but a distant remembrance.
When you start crying at night, J just leaves without a word. He likes to go and sleep in her room, not wanting to hear your sobbing. You never go to your daughter’s bedroom in the same time.
There are moments you feel your heart is going to shatter to pieces so you sneak into her chamber, searching around for that something you are aware you won’t find. She’s not there anymore and it hits you so hard you have to collapse on the small bed, hugging her favorite teddy bear, crying your eyes out until you fall asleep.
It’s raining like crazy.
Emma used to get scared by thunder and ran into the master bedroom, wanting to sleep in between her parents. You can almost hear her little steps on the hardwood floor. The Joker always objected but never chased her away. He was actually the first one to soothe her and you let him have it; you knew his child was one of the few distractions he would indulge.
You glare at the blank space in between you; so much distance and nothing to fill the emptiness with. J is laying there on his back, covering his face with his right arm. You know he’s not sleeping, probably tormented by the same memories as you are.
“I miss my baby…” you whisper and he doesn’t reply. You sigh, wishing she was still with you. “Do you remember when she was born?” you continue. “Didn’t fuss too much…”
You crawl on his side, getting on top of him, take your boy-shorts and t-shirt off, pulling down his boxers in the process.
There’s no objection.
You slowly move on top of him, softly moaning as he holds tightly to your hips, trying to hold in his groans. It’s just been so long.
Mindless, desperate sex because you want to feel something…anything. J didn’t push you away which means he apparently shares the same perspective. Afterwards, your return to your side, squeezing one of the pillow to your chest; you didn’t even kiss him and he didn’t seem to care.
The gun shot wakes you up and you instantly jump out of bed, alarmed, not realizing what’s going on. You’re so groggy you stumble on the blanket that ended up on the floor earlier and almost fall on your knees. Another gun shot. It’s definitely coming from upstairs.
“ J ?” you raise your voice and rush to the upper story, scared to death. “J ?” When you barge into her room, The Joker is there, sitting on her bed with the gun in his lap. You’re shaking so badly you have to let yourself slide down against the wall, gasping for air. “Jesus, I thought…” you can’t even finish while you wipe the cold sweat from your forehead, relieved.
“You’re not that lucky,” he snarls, staring you down.
“Lucky?! How would be losing you too considered lucky, hm?” you struggle to regain your self-control, jittery from the incident. “What…what are you shooting at?”
“I don’t know,” the honest response discloses the truth.
“Don’t do this to me again…” you beg, wrapping your arms around your knees in a faded effort to ease the heartache.
“Ooohh, let me guess: you still care?” J grins, chuckling in such a manner it makes you wince:
“Of course I care…”
“Get out of here, I want to be alone!” he suddenly snaps, pointing out towards the door.
Such a dreadful feeling hanging on your shoulders, such a burden…and it will never vanish.
“She was my little girl too…” you gulp, dismissing his demand. “You’re not the only one that suffers…” you sniffle, not moving when his eyes burn with resentment. You are finally on your feet again and step towards him.
“Don’t!” he barks. “Get out!”
“No…” and the gun being pointed at you doesn’t make you flinch.
”I said get out!!!” The safety clicks and you stop in front of him, waiting. “Are you deaf?! I don’t want you in here!” J shouts without success.
You just prepare for whatever outcome may happen.
“I don’t blame you…” you reach you hand to lower his. “I really don’t…You protected her, there is nothing else you could have done…”
“Shut up…” he growls, not wanting to hear about it.
“It wasn’t you fault…It really wasn’t…” you utter in low voice, speaking your mind. The Joker pants, fighting against the emotions building up inside of him and finally allows you to take his gun.
“Get out…” he repeats and you grant his wish, taking the pistol with you. “I hate you for giving me a daughter I couldn’t keep ! Why don’t you want me to have her back?” he lashes out, unable to keep it in.
“She was my baby too and we can’t have her back…” J distinguishes your hurtful response before you close the door.
Your child’s death wasn’t his fault. You were out of town and J took her with him to one of the hideouts since he had important business to take care of. His new acquisition of guns, explosives and ammunition needed to be sorted out and moved to other locations. While the henchmen worked on packaging and sealing the boxes, one of the grenades was accidentally set off and triggered a tremendous chain reaction. At that moment, The Joker and your daughter were in the office, but didn’t make it any better. He had time to shield her with his body before he lost consciousness. The strong blast nearly leveled the entire building.
J was severely injured, took him two month to recover. That’s why he lost hearing in his left ear and the deep scar going across his right eye makes it difficult to see from time to time: his vision gets blurry and gives him horrible migraines. A corrective eye surgery was suggested, but he didn’t follow up on it.
Emma sustained critical traumatic injuries and didn’t survive. She was only 5.
You take a sit on the stairs, stashing the gun to the side of the railing, bawling and shivering from anxiety. My God, how terrified you were for those few long moments you believed you’ll find him dead upstairs! It’s just like something awoken inside of you, buried and ignored for months, fighting to get to the surface at any cost.
One hour passes by and you gather your strength to get up again and return to her bedroom to check up on him. J fell asleep on the bed, curled up on top of the blankets. He senses you snuggling behind him, your arms holding his waist and he squirms, preparing to flee.
“Don’t go…”you plead with shaky voice. “Please stay…”
The Joker takes a deep breath, debating on your request.
“I really miss my baby…and I miss you…I’m so alone…Please stay…Just this time…Yes?…” and you kiss the back of his neck, hoping he will listen to your plea. “I want us to be together in here for once…Please stay…It’s just so hard…and it hurts…”
J feels your tears on his skin and shifts so he can face you.
“You know, Princess…” (you whimper since he didn’t call you any names in forever) ”…this is the most we talked in ages,” he justly mentions, frowning.
“Yes it is…” you sniffle, grateful he’s still there and caress his cheek.
“You could’ve at least thanked me for the good time I gave you; I’m not a piece of meat, you know?” he mutters, kissing your forehead and you smile through tears, hugging him as tight as you can.
“I love you,” the words follow and it comforts him in a way he didn’t think possible. Last time you told him was months ago. “ I love you.” You kiss him, savoring his taste and how soft his lips are. “I want to sleep here until morning, OK?”
The Joker grumbles something that sounds as an approval, exhausted from the bad night that turned out…bearable in the end.
“Did you even read through the folder?” he points his finger towards the binder that is always on her playing table.
“I did…” you take a deep breath, uneasy. “Over and over again…but you know my opinion about the whole thing…”
Last time you two kind of have a conversation was 6 months ago; it was about that and it ended up in a terrible fight. The portfolio is about “Lenixx Inc. – Institute of Research & Development of Human Genome.” They had a strong start on the genetics market, the most hyped and talked about cloning program; so many successes and so many failures also. The failure part is the one that worries you.
“I want us to try it,” J lifts your chin up so he can see you better. “I want my Emma back!”
“I can’t…I can’t…” you shake your
head, upset he won’t drop the idea.
“It’s NOT a request !!!” he snarls, pulling on your hair so hard it makes your eyes sting.
“Can you - can you imagine what it would do to us if it doesn’t work?! It would be like losing her again, the worst nightmare when we already live in hell. Why can’t you understand? Why are you so stubborn?!” you try to reason with a Joker that doesn’t take no for an answer. He always gets his way somehow.
“Do you want me to stay?” J bites his lip, playing the ace in his sleeve.
“Yes, why even ask?” the sorrowful tone confirms what he is already certain of.
“Then I want us to try! Otherwise, I’m gone.”
“It’s not fair…” you weep, distressed by the difficult decision you have to make.
“I’m not known to be a fair person,” he wipes your tears, admitting to his own flaw for once. “You’re still young, you can have her again. Simple question: yes or no?” The Joker forcefully holds his grip on your body when you wiggle to escape.
J returns to the kitchen and squints his eyes when he notices the can of grape juice gone from the counter; he could swear he took one out of the fridge before going on the balcony.
“Hey, Pumpkin, did you take my grape juice?” he yells so you can hear him.
“Nooo, I’m upstairs, cleaning out the closet!”
“Hmm…” he smirks when he hears the giggle coming from under the table. “I wonder what happened to it…” (More muffled giggling). “Maybe the grape juice fairy stole it…” he pretends to dispute on the missing item, sniffling the air around. “I can smell her, I think she’s close. If I catch her, I’m gonna tickle her until she surrenders.”
“Hehehehe,” the little voice nervously echoes when his feet stop in front of the table.
“I think I know where she hides!” and he suddenly drops on his knees, making Emma scream and laugh like crazy while he drags her out from the fortress. “Com’ere!” he covers her in kisses and she hugs him with her tiny hands, holding to his can of grape juice.
“Daaa’yyy, stopppp,” she begs, continuing to laugh as The Joker tickles her too.
“You brat, stealing my favorite drink,” he lifts her up in his arms, heading upstairs where you are.
“Da’yy, share?” your daughter smacks her lips, really wanting some of that juice for herself. She’s not his kid for nothing.
“Yes, we’ll share, but don’t tell mom, I don’t want to share with her too, OK?”
“OK, da’yy,” she enthusiastically bounces in his arms, her pigtails flying all over the place.
“Princess, I think she’s a natural, totally snatched my grape juice; already has great skills,” J proudly reports and you roll your eyes.
“Only you could be excited about that,” you come over to kiss her and she hands you over the can.
“Hey, I said we’re not going to share, kiddo!” he pouts, faking his disappointment.
“Mommy too, da’yy,” Emma cover his mouth with her small fingers.
“Traitor!” he mumbles under his breath.
“That’s my girl!” you praise her, opening the container. “Daddy really needs to shut it down sometimes!” and you give her the drink first, holding in it while she sips the sweet liquid. “It’s good?”
“U-hum,” she wipes her mouth, happy like no other.
“Such a cute little doll,” J squishes her cheeks, placing a kiss on her temple.
“The cutest…” you whisper, biting on your nails, mesmerized by how joyful she is.
Nothing can ever compare with having your child back. And the man you love. For once in your life, you are thankful you listen to him.
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