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Laughter in the Dark	By : FlameWolf666 Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 9317 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Dark Knight or the Batman franchise. This story is just for fun and no profit will be made from it.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: Please forgive me for more delays. A lot happened in my personal life that made it hard to write. Let alone coming to grips with the fact that I’m wrapping up a trilogy that has spanned over three years of my time. I will do my best to update more but things are still kinda wobbly. Have courage though, things will eventually be finished.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Vengeance is Bitter Medicine

    The twisted turns only added to the confusion presented by the pitch blackness of the sewers. The strange echoes didn’t help matters and Joker felt fear fill him despite himself as he edged along a slimy concrete wall with his throwing knives at the ready. The fact that he wasn’t hearing screams or cries for help only added to his apprehension and he felt his heart thudding hard against his ribcage as he slowly inched his way forward in the inky nothing ahead. The sound of his shoes grinding on the dirt covering the concrete as well as the steady dripping of water somewhere set his teeth on edge and he felt like he was nearly jumping out of his skin as the eerie quietness stretched on. Something should have happened by now. Why wasn’t he being attacked? More importantly, was Marie alright?
    As it turned out, the former doctor was safe as far as her body went; her mind was a whole other story. Her mind was in utter turmoil, Spade actively struggling to take over so she could give the deformed man a piece of her mind. It was through only sheer will alone that the psychologist maintained control over herself. Besides, it wasn’t as if ‘Spade’ was a different personality. The persona was just a different part of herself that was slowly gaining power. ‘Spade’ was everything she was to timid to be, uncaring for any innocents and vocal about what displeased her. All things Joker had drawn out of her over time. Sighing, she rubbed the bulging bump of her stomach as she shifted her gaze back to her captor.
    The beastly man was pacing as his thick tail thrashed in irritation. Every once and a while his lizard-like eyes would land on the blonde in his nest, lingering on the growing dome of her stomach. “She never mentioned anything about you bein’ pregnant,” he growled, stress clear in his gravelly voice. Marie didn’t even have to ask who he had meant, slow rage boiling in her blood and slowly shredding away any control she had over ‘Spade’.
    “Motherfucking Harley. You know, I heard she had gone to seek you out but I had hoped she had come to whatever senses she had and just decided to drop it. Seems like that was in vain,” the twenty-eight year old huffed. While she had already known the crazed female was behind this, hearing confirmation just made it that much more real.
    Croc let loose a horrifying facsimile of a laugh, the sound practically shaking the floor. “She’s crazier than a shithouse rat. All she ever talks about is how you’ve ruined everything for her and how you pulled the wool over her Puddin’s eyes,” he informed as he cracked his knuckles to extend his sharp claws. Then he was rushing forward to grip her pale face in his deformed hands, the sharp nails coming very close to slicing her delicate skin. The muzzle that served as his mouth was mere inches from touching hers and an insane light twinkled in his feral gaze.
“You talk about something being wrong in Gotham, something making us the way we are. Maybe its the people themselves that are sick. Maybe Gotham just draws us in like flies to honey I can’t tell ya how often I’ve entertained the thought of killing either you or her just to get some fuckin’ peace from her inane banter. Does this sound like a rational reaction to you?” he spat out, his upper lip lifting slightly to reveal his changing teeth.
“There’s something already inside me that makes me capable of doing these things, nothing else. Even you have to admit that your own persona is just a deeper part of yourself,” the thing continued, before he closed his glittering eyes and inhaled her scent deeply.
    “That may be true but such people exist everywhere. Very few of them actually give into their urges. There has to be something about the city that makes people more susceptible to their inner demons,” the golden haired femme argued, not seeming the least bit scared outwardly. On the inside, her heart was beating a wild rhythm.
    “You ever think that Gotham possibly attracts people with weaker willpower? Sure there are plenty of ‘normal’ people walking around but you would be surprised at what percentage are keeping a dark part of them buried. Something about this city makes us feel comfortable the way we are, allows us to let loose,” the dark creature boomed, his tail thudding against the damp concrete with a meaty sound. The fact that he couldn’t smell a scrap of fear both frustrated and aroused him, things he hadn’t felt since his condition had gotten worse. All he had felt was animalistic anger, unending hunger and a strange territorial feeling. Each day that passed, he felt more of his mind becoming the beast he was starting to resemble.
    “Yes, but what is it about this place that causes such a feeling in the first place?” she whispered, finding the conversation they were having as fascinating as she did surreal. In fact, she found her heart aching for the potential man Croc could have been. If he hadn’t given in to the demon in his head, he could have used the knowledge that turned him into to this to change the world. Instead, he was becoming nothing more than an animal trapped beneath Gotham’s grimy streets.
    “Why the fuck haven’t you just eaten her yet!” came a familiar female scream, startling the shit out of both of them.
    Croc was releasing her to whirl on their guest with a snarl, Marie peering around him to see a very pissed Harley Quinn. The crazed murderess was dressed in her normal black and red spandex, her blonde hair done up in her usual pigtails. She even wore her black eye-mask, though that didn’t hide the outright hatred glittering in her icy orbs. Red and black lips lifted in a sneer, the former doctor stomped forward; only to find herself stopped by the bristling beast between her and her target. “I’m not about to eat her you fucking bitch. I may be a monster but even I have some fuckin’ morals,” he snarled, almost seeming to protect the woman behind him.
    “Since when do you care about eating some whore?” screamed the younger woman, making Marie dearly wish she had some of her lover’s throwing knives right about then.
    “I don’t eat pregnant women Harley. The deal’s off,” the deformed man growled, his reply stopping the one woman whirlwind in her tracks.
    It felt like time had stopped as the grimy floor seemed to drop away from her. Her heart and breath seemed to halt as a roaring sore was opened in the beating organ located in the middle of her chest. Surely she had to have heard wrong! There was no way in Hell her Puddin would let this bitch keep an unborn child! Not when he had so cruelly forced her to... Shaking herself from that thought, Harley felt her body mechanically lean to one side of Croc; her eyes going wide when they briefly landed on the round stomach the interloper sported. It was then her stomach lurched, forcing her down to her knees as she began to vomit. “Y-you... he’s letting you keep...,” she gasped out before she was heaving again, puke splattering the already filthy concrete.
    Marie only watched from her position on the strange nest made out of stolen clothes, feeling black fury fill her. “That’s right Harleen. Unlike you, Joker wants to have a child with me. Even seems to want to build some sort of life with me,” hissed a voice that sounded like her but really belonged to her darker self.
    “You fucking lie!” screamed the nearly hysterical woman as her pigtailed head shot up to shoot the former Psychologist a crazed glare. The deep hurt in those azure eyes was nearly enough to make the sandy haired criminal feel bad for her rival, almost.
    “Do I really toots? What do your eyes tell ya?” came a venomous snarl from her lips, Spade’s bitter derision slowly taking over the small amount of sympathy she felt. Why should she feel bad for this woman? She had many opportunities to stop what she was doing but she kept pressing her luck. At this point, Marie couldn’t allow her to continue as she was; the reason why currently sleeping in her womb.
    “You... you... you tricked him or brainwashed him somehow. Th-there’s no way he would... Not after what he... and I...,” stammered the stunned female clown before she was shooting to her feet and pulling at her pigtails.
    “Do you really think one woman can brainwash someone like him? And here I used to think you were smart before he drove you insane,” hissed Spade as Marie found herself shoved more and more into the back of her own mind. Something she honestly welcomed at this point. It felt good to let someone else who seemed to know what they were doing take the reigns. Even if it was just another part of herself.
    Harley let out a cry of rage before launching herself at her gravid antagonizer, her heart feeling like it was being ripped bodily from her chest. The only thing that stopped her from reaching her target was Croc, the most unlikely hero anyone in the room had ever seen. Still, the insane killer didn’t care. All she could think about was the gnawing, aching pain she felt as well as the need to kill the woman who had caused this. The need to kill, to tear, to feel blood splatter on her skin as she made damn sure this whore could never touch what was hers again. Gone was any speck of the small, rational voice that had been trying for weeks to stop all this madness. At this point, the costumed femme was truly beyond any help. The only thing she heard was the slut demand she be released.
    Blinking, the deformed man looked up at his ‘captive’ with a confused expression. “You heard me. Just toss me a knife before you do. I’ve had enough of this stupid bitch fucking with our lives,” hissed the hateful voice of the alter ego Marie had worked so hard to make for herself. She was then tossed a weapon, forced to watch from the background as her villainous persona got into a more defensive position. Then Harley was exploding forward as her beastly companion released her, giving her only seconds to react. It was then things descended into a blur of chaos.
    Joker, who had been following the sound of loud voices, peeked around the corner to see a sight that made lust simmer in his veins despite the direness of the situation. Marie had launched herself at a crazed Harley, a protective hand on her sizeable stomach as a knife flashed in the other. Before he could even begin to move into the room, his vicious lover had his ex pinned to the grimy concrete; a frightening snarl of her pale face as her golden locks hung in her eyes. The blade she held was now pressed against his former partner’s throat and he felt himself grow rock hard in his purple pants against his will. “Any last words Harleen?” hissed a voice that sounded like a much more demented version of his lover, making a shudder roll down his spine as he slowly crept into the open space.
    Croc, who had been watching the fight with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, scented the other male and turned to give his fellow villain an acknowledging glance. The tux wearing intruder froze in place, seemingly torn between reaching for a weapon or keeping an eye on the woman who held his heart. The decision was soon taken from him when a swift motion caught his eyes, causing him to turn just in time to see his former doctor slit his other former doctor’s throat; a dark look of glee on her face that only served to heat his blood further. That glee only intensified as the woman he had broken and twisted began to choke on her own blood. It only faded when Harley was finally still, a pool of blood spreading under her head and staining her flaxen hair.
    Marie slowly came back to herself, fully aware of just what she had done while her darker self had been in charge. The evidence of it was still on her hands as well as laying on the floor in front of her. Her stomach lurched as sickening guilt mixed with horror washed over her body in a tingling wave. Then she was vomiting helplessly, dimly aware of someone wrapping their arms around her as a familiar scent filled her nose. “Joker...,” she gasped, not even looking at who was holding her before turning in their embrace and burrowing her face into his green silk clad chest.
    Before she knew it, he was scooping her into his arms and running; the slime caked walls a blur as the killer holding her sprinted toward the ladder leading up and out of the manhole. Then she was being slung over a cotton covered shoulder, watched the floor of the sewer get ever smaller as Joker carried her upward. As soon as they were ground level, her lover was setting her on her feet to take her pale face into his now bare hands; a concerned expression on his painted visage. Yet, under that worry, there was the barest hint of hunger in his verdant eyes. Then those eyes travelled to her protruding tummy and that hunger became downright unmistakeable. Suddenly he was leading her toward the warehouse they had chosen as their hideout, his ruby lips pursed as he nearly drug her behind him.
    He simply spared the awakening henchmen a passing glance before pushing Marie up the metal stairs, only seeming to relax once he had her in the room they shared. Jasper, who had been sleeping on the bed, gave the pair a baleful glare before simply yawning and going back to sleep. The still shell-shocked female could only watch as the man she loved slipped to his knees to lift her shirt, exposing the tight dome of her womb to his terrified gaze. Then he was pressing feather light kisses to the taut skin, his hands spreading on either side of sizeable bump. “I can only imagine what’s going through your head after what’s happened to you. But don’t you dare feel guilt for protecting yourself and our child. You did what you had to in order to make sure the threat was eliminated. Besides, if you hadn’t killed her; I would have,” came Jack’s unsteady mid-tone as he nuzzled where the unborn child rested.
    Marie could only feel dimly horrified that she didn’t feel one bit of guilt for taking a life with her bare hands. Instead she only felt a deep relief as well as a rush of exhilaration. She hadn’t been disgusted by the blood splashing on her skin or the act of killing someone. She had been turned on by it, the realization making her stomach turn with nausea. The person she was becoming was honestly starting to scare her and she found herself wondering just what kind of world she was bringing an innocent baby into. “I... I don’t feel guilty,” she confessed, knowing there was really no one better to tell what was going through her head at the moment. His green haired head shot up at her statement, his hazel orbs locking on hers as anticipation began to fill his expression.
    “How do you feel?” the killer husked out, the raspiness of his voice causing a pleasant shiver to run through her pregnant body.
    “Turned on...,” she uttered, her voice barely above a whisper. The dirty blonde had barely enough time to hope her violent boyfriend hadn’t heard her before his lips were meeting hers almost frantically.
    Large, warm hands came up to cradle her back as his eager tongue demanded entrance to her mouth. The former Psychologist gave in with a low moan, allowing her gray eyes to slide shut as her own arms came up to wrap around his strong neck. Jack growled his appreciation into her mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as desperation began to color his lust. “How long were ya down there. Please tell me you weren’t there for my entire time stuck in Arkham,” he whispered against her lips between deep kisses full of his need and love for her.
    “Only a few hours really,” she replied, disturbed by the wantonous heat that prickled her skin. Was this what she wanted for herself? To become a monster that gloried in blood and death? Then again, who was she to look down at that behavior given who she had fallen in love with.
    Joker was the very persona of chaos, not caring what age his victims were or if they even deserved to die in the first place. The only person he seemed to care for, in fact, seemed to be her. A strange position to find oneself in after living life as a normal person for a large chunk of her life. She had discovered that she truly didn’t care what happened to other people but that didn’t make the chore of putting aside the mantle of civility any easier for her. Caring for others and feeling guilt for causing death had been hard coded into her since she was a child and could not easily be overwritten with her true nature. Though, to be honest, she was unsure if she really liked who she was under the mask her mother had forced onto her.
    Her distressed thoughts were interrupted by her lover giving her pulse a hard bite. When she looked up at him in shock, the ‘Clown Prince’ gave her a slight glare. Then he was pulling out a balisong, flipping the knife open to place the tip on the collar of the black t-shirt she wore. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. Don’t fuckin’ regret killin’ a madwoman who wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same to you and our child. Let go, let me see the woman under the social constraints. I want your darkness, crave it. The little glimpse I saw... You were magnificent. Don’t run from who you were meant to be, embrace it,” the tux wearing criminal rasped as he proceeded to cut her shirt off with the sharp blade.
    Marie felt her lust become a heavy pool of molten lead in her lower stomach, her breath dragging in slowly as fear and anticipation mixed within her. The knife he was using was sharp enough to cause real damage if that was his intent, making the fact that he was using it to tease her with all the more exhilarating. “See? You like this. The rush of excitement is unlike anything else isn’t it? The hint of danger, the feeling that you’re taking fate into your own hands,” came an urgent, gravelly whisper against her collarbone as his knife easily parted the front of her shirt.
    “Yes, it feels like sparks of electricity are dancing across my skin. I feel triumphant, powerful. All the things I shouldn’t. The worst thing is it would be so easy to just give in,” whispered the former doctor, her stormy eyes squeezed shut as she struggled with her feelings.
    “Then just let go. I’ve got ya, I won’t let you fall too far,” Jack sighed as he ripped her shirt open to expose her breasts. They had grown larger with her pregnancy, preparing to carry milk for their coming child. Along with that, however, came increased sensitivity.
    Before she could gather her wits to reply to his demand, he was latching onto a peaked nipple; suckling aggressively. This caused a sensation that felt like a hook of pleasure had been embedded into her womb and each tug of his tongue caused a corresponding tug on an invisible string tied to the hook. Soon she was groaning out loud as her purple nailed hands found his lime green hair. As the killer released an almost animalistic sound against her, the hand holding the knife tracing a lazy pattern with the point, Marie found her reservations about letting go of her civility slowly slipping away. Jack would be the last one to judge her for who she really was and she was tired of feeling guilt for things she honestly wouldn’t under different circumstances.
    The sharp bite of his knife cutting into her skin and she let out a soft moan at the slight pain. In a rush that violated her cat, Marie found herself on her back on the bed; the killer hovering above her. Then Jack was latching onto the bleeding wound with a growl, ignoring the hiss Jasper gave the pair as he scooting off the bed and under it. “Jack, oh fuck,” Marie gasped, her knees raising to clamp around his sides while his tongue played with the edge of the shallow cut. The ruthless villain responded with a low grunt, tearing himself away to rip his purple jacket off as his blazing eyes roved over her exposed torso.
    “Hold that thought babe, be right back,” he rasped, pulling off her to run into the bathroom.
    The sound of the faucet turning on spurred her to turn off the light out of habit, plunging the room into darkness. She had a brief moment to contemplate whether or not to take of the rest of her clothes before he answered her. “Leave the rest on. I want to,uh, finish unwrapping ya myself,” came his raspy demand, making her quiver in anticipation. Taking a deep breath, Marie crawled onto the bed; relishing the feeling of the silk sheets under her hands. Somewhere, in the back of her head, what was left of her conscience tried to make her feel guilty over feeling more sexually alive than she could ever remember. A voice that was rapidly and easily crushed.
    “There’s no fuckin’ reason to feel guilty, as he keeps telling you! If you hadn’t killed her, it would have only been a matter of time before she tried to kill you again. Or, even worse, try to kill your child. Even if it does turn out to be Roger’s, it’s still an innocent in all of this. Was I supposed to just let her continue to be a threat?” she hissed, a bit shocked by the venom she heard in her own voice. Somewhere in her mind, ‘Spade’ let out a cheer of celebration.
‘Looks like ya finally get it doll face,’ chided her alter ego, making it sound like it was an easy conclusion to come to.
    “Good to hear you say that,” came an approving husk before she could reply, drawing her attention to the barely visible silhouette above her.
    “Thanks for turning out the light by the way. Old habits and all. But I believe we’ve already had that conversation,” continued the voice from much closer before the much dimmer bedside lamp was turned on.
    Then he was on her, his hot mouth capturing her left nipple as his hands fumbled with the ties to her maternity pants. Due to her size, she was only able to use sweatpants now; able to get more use out of the expanding waistband. After a few moments, Jack was sliding them off along with her underwear; rough breaths leaving him as he pulled away from her to look at her naked, pregnant body. A low, possessive snarl rips from somewhere deep inside his muscled chest as his hands come up to cradle her bump reverently. “I’ve missed you these long months. I almost went as mad as Hatter worrying whether or not Craney was doing his job,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly husk as he bent down to brush his soft lips on the crest of her growing dome.
    “Well, don’t get locked up for so long then,” came her surprisingly snarky reply as she allowed some of Spade’s traits come forward. After all, they were but her own feelings and quirks.
    “Hmmm, showing me some of your more frisky side?” purred the killer above her as he continued to dust butterfly kisses over her tight skin.
    The light, tickling sensation drew a giggle from Marie as she felt her heart swell with love for the madman. He was violent, unpredictable, utterly insane, driven only by his own logic and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who looked at him wrong. She was the only one who saw this oddly sweet, soft side he kept deeply buried. “As much as I wouldn’t complain about gettin’ to know your other side more, I want to see you without all masks. Just be you Marie, just you,” Jack pleaded, kissing his way down her stomach.
    “I... I don’t know who I am,” the confused blonde whispered, gasping when his mouth met her junction.
    “We can find out together,” her undisguised lover whispered before he began to suckle on her clit.
    “Jack, please,” she gasped, arching against the heat of him. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his efforts, it was just that she hadn’t seen or felt him in what felt like an eternity. If he didn’t just take her, she felt like she was likely to explode.
    Thankfully he seemed to understand, prowling up her gravid body as he took her lower legs into his hands and positioned his tip at her sopping entrance. Then he was taking her in one stroke, the feeling of him hilting drawing a cry from the pair in unison. Making a gruff sound, Jack began to move; his face burrowed in the right side of her neck. “Ah, fuck!” Marie gasped, her back bowing as her hands came up to scratch his back.
    “Thatta girl,” he encouraged through gritted teeth, moving faster and causing a wave of pleasure to crash over her.
    Each stroke of him inside her felt like heaven, drawing a shuddering cry of his name as she felt herself creeping ever closer to a devastating orgasm. Then her word was shattering, her nails scratching deep furrows in Jack’s bare back as her vision filled with white. She was dimly aware of him spilling inside her before he was rolling them onto their sides, his arms wrapping around her as he placed his lips on her forehead. Smiling, Marie was just on the verge of falling asleep when she felt the slightest kick. Time seemed to freeze, her and the clown looking down at her stomach before the small kick happened again. Their child was moving for the first time!
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Laughter in the Dark