Chapter Text
“All right! Where y'all at?! Come out, come out! We know you’re here…Is that you Flag? Or maybe it's one of your team unless this was a solo suicide mission. If you come out on your own, Flag, I won’t have to kill as many people.” Wildman turned his attention to the people watching him. “Or maybe if you people know where Flag is, maybe lead us to Flag, we’ll let you live with most of your limbs attached!” Wildman laughed, thinking himself to be quite funny as he stalked around the modest fountain that dominated the center of the small village. Wildman, his eyes wide and dark with excitement, yelled mockingly into the village from where he stood in the center of town. At his feet was the dead body of one of the village guards, a young man, no more than eighteen, his head twisted completely around until his face stared sightlessly backwards.
Standing not far behind Wildman, fanned out, each of them armed with a M4 carbine, were Jennifer, Headhunter, and Exterminator, each one a new monstrosity all thanks to the pursuit of the perfect soldier. Behind them was a small group of six unaugmented, regular soldiers. A couple of them looked to be native to the island while the rest were likely American soldiers, all carrying M4 carbines.
The village streets were empty except for the small handful of men who had positioned themselves between the monster soldiers and the main body of the village homes. Many of the men in the group were too old to fight, while the other half were too young to be considered men. All the age-appropriate men had either become pirates, worked at the military base, or were in the jungle, hiding from being forced into either occupation. The old men and boys who were here stood with their weapons aimed at the intruders, though the four soldiers didn’t seem the least bit phased by having weapons aimed at them.
“Come on Flag, don’t you wanna come out and play?” Wildman taunted, scanning as he yelled and watched for any movement that would tell him where Flag might be hiding. “We know you're here–saw your handiwork out there in the jungle, found the one guy you tortured. Bit sadistic, don’t you think? Believe me, I was pretty shocked, but then again, we all have that monster living inside of us.” He glanced at his fellow modified soldiers. “Some of us have embraced it while others continue to deny it. Finally ready to embrace that monster?”
*
Peacemaker was being kept in a small, one room house that was more hut than house. The village didn’t exactly have a jail, but what they did have was one small prison cell in the hut that belonged to the mother of the village’s “sheriff.” The sheriff was a nice old man in his early seventies named José and his mother, Beatriz, was a very spritely elderly woman who still cooked her son’s meals every day, cleaned house, and did laundry. She had also been taking care of Peacemaker. She made sure he was clean and well-fed. Flag believed that the only reason Peacemaker was being even the slightest bit cooperative and calm was because of Beatriz.
Right now Peacemaker was in his cell, but instead of yelling to be set free, he remained quiet. His gaze was intense under his mask as stood in his cell, his large hands wrapped around the bars of his cell, staring in the direction of the voices outside. Despite the helmet that covered part of his face, Flag could see that the large man looked nervous because Beatriz was with them, hiding under a desk. The old woman looked upset; her son was out there with the monsters.
Flag was crouched down, balanced on the balls of his feet by one of the hut’s two windows. Edging up slowly, Flag looked out. He had a great view of what was happening.
He could see the monstrous soldiers outside, victims of the military’s need for progress and a means of holding advantage over their adversaries.
“I can’t believe they wanted that to happen to them,” he murmured, his eyes narrowed. “I serve my country, but even I have limits.”
Bane, who was pressed against the wall next to Flag’s window (which Flag considered quite a feat considering the man’s size), spoke softly, his tone tinted with understanding, self-loathing, and a hint of fear. “You do not understand the lengths someone will go to, what they will do for the strength and power to never be a victim again.” He looked down at Flag. “You are also assuming they volunteered–I didn’t volunteer for my own monstrous condition. I was a test subject.” He glanced out the window. “After I escaped the prison that had been my home since birth, I could have sought treatment for what was done to me, but I was not willing to give up the advantages my monstrous form gave me in my quest for revenge. And now I couldn’t give this up if I wanted…” He absently gestured to where Flag knew there was a device that the big man used to control the toxin he used, the toxin that sustained his life and transformed him into a hulking monster.
“That said, what they are doing now? There is no excuse to harm these people, any of the people on this island. They are abusing the power they were given,” Bane murmured. His tone sounded neutral, but Flag thought he detected a hint of anger in the big man’s voice.
Flag had read Bane’s file and knew all about the man growing up in Pena Dura prison, the experiments that were done on him, his quest for justice, and his criminal activity. Bane was an odd one and didn’t fit into the box of villain or hero.
Crouched at the other window, Deadshot looked out, his eyes narrowed. “Now this is why I don’t like to take off my mask because shit like this happens. Also why I never like to give up my weapons.”
Flag glanced over at Deadshot. Except for his service knife, his gun–along with everyone else's–was still in Ana’s home where she had insisted they remove them for dinner. “Fuck,”
Peacemaker said quietly. “If we move stealthy and fast, it won’t matter that they're armed.”
Flag pivoted on the balls of his feet to stare at Peacemaker.
“You, stealthy?”
“I can be stealthy,” Peacemaker protested.
“It doesn’t really matter if he’s stealthy or not, we could use him,” Deadshot muttered, his attention returning to watching out the window. “Is that guy yelling…toothless?”
*
Wildman spat at the feet of the armed men in front of him as he stalked back and forth along the line of men. He ran his tongue over his toothless gums (that was the one aspect of his transformation Wildman wasn’t happy with…though they promised him metal fanged teeth if that was what he wanted. He could be like Jaws from those old James Bond films). Wildman told himself that he was showing a lot of restraint, not killing them like he wanted. Jennifer had ordered him not to touch anyone, though he was in charge of this outing not the bitch. Still, he’d let her think he was listening to her–for now. But he felt the need to kill something soon. He needed to taste blood, smell spilled guts, the tears. It was all so much fun! He couldn’t understand why Nuke didn’t let himself revel in their new forms and new abilities. They were gods right now, there was nothing on this planet that could hurt them.
“Flag! Come out or I start working my way through every house!”
Wildman slammed his fists together as he continued to stalk when a jovial voice spoke loudly and clearly.
“And he huffed and puffed and tried to blow their houses down…”
*
Inside Ana’s home, King Shark snarled as he glared out the window, which Selina found to be a weird sound coming from a humanoid shark. The only growling shark she’d ever heard was in Jaws: The Revenge. KS’s growl was a lot more frightening, but just as uncanny because sharks, humanoid or not, were just not meant to growl. The shark man was currently hovering protectively over Ruby who was curled in the corner by the window out of which KS was looking. Every time it seemed like King Shark was going to rush out and turn the entire situation into a bloodbath, Ruby kept reaching out and touching KS’s arm, which was the only reason the humanoid shark hadn’t charged out there and probably gotten himself shot down (Selina figured it would take a lot of bullets to put him down, but with enough guns it was possible, though he would be a great distraction if she wanted to get away. Everyone’s attention would be on the humanoid shark. The only real issue was the bomb in her neck. She’d have to think about it).
Ana, who had gone into one of the back rooms the moment there was even a hint of a problem, hurried back into the front room, but now she was carrying Selina’s whip, Boomer’s boomerangs, and two .45 caliber automatic pistols, one of which she gave to Frost.
A look of surprise washed over Mylan’s face. “Why don’t I get a gun?”
His sister Ruby gasped at the sight of the gun. “Madre!”
Ana waved her children off. “I’m not letting them hurt my family or my guests! Not again.”
“Ah, guys. Something’s happening outside,” Boomer said, his tone incredulous.
They all rushed to the windows and carefully looked outside. They arrived just as Joker came fully into view.
“And he huffed and puffed and tried to blow their houses down…”
“Is that Joker?” Selina asked in surprise as she saw the tall, lanky criminal, barefoot, wearing the jeans and the athletic shirt that Ana had given him. While Selina watched, Joker came walking into the village with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking as if he had not a care in the world. It was at moments like this that Selina realized what it was she saw in Joker. He was handsome in his own strange way, dashing really.
Frost hurried over to look out the window. “Fuck me.”
Wrinkling her nose and frowning at herself, Selina had to wonder what was going on with her. First Bane was hot, and now Joker? She really needed to get off this island and get that explosive out of her neck. They were clearly affecting her thinking.
“Where’s Harley?” Frost asked, his tone tight with stress and fear.
Selina’s brow creased and thought that was a good question. Where was Harley?
*
Trying to see what was happening, John Nickles craned his neck, his eyes going wide when he saw the man with green hair walk into view. “Fuck me.”
“Who is that?” Next to John, Angel–the only name the man had ever given–stared at Joker, feeling a strange, unnatural fear wash over him. “That guy is fucking freaky.”
“That’s the Joker,” John said, his tone partly one of awe, but mostly frightened. “Where’s Harley Quinn? He’s always with that girlfriend of his.” John looked around, suddenly nervous.
He had thought this mission was going to be a typical clean up. Nuke had sent them out to make sure there were no survivors of the plane wreck–especially Colonel Flag–though John secretly hoped that the colonel was alive. The man was a legend and dying in a crash just wasn’t the way for him to go out!
But now, seeing the Joker, John started to worry, and that worry was turning into a hard, twisted knot in his stomach.
Back at headquarters, his buddy Daniel had said there were rumors of Amanda Waller sending in a nuke to blow the island off the planet while others were talking in quiet tones about some mythical Suicide Squad that Waller had, a group of criminals she could send out to do her dirty work with the goal of there being no survivors in the end–on either side. John had to admit, he was scared of Waller. That woman was, well, she was a real monster. John’s eyes moved from the Joker to Wildman. He was from Gotham City and he knew all about the Joker and all the stories, all the people he’d killed.
“Who’s the Joker?” Angel asked.
Like everyone he knew, Angel had grown up in the slums of Guadalajara. Angel, like the rest of the teens he knew, had heard of Gotham’s Batman and the really weird criminals that lived there, though they never had any hard details, just vague stories. He and his friends would play at being drug lords sent to capture Batman for a vast fortune, but they had never concerned themselves with the villains. Now to be confronted by one, Angel was a bit disappointed. Except for the green hair and weirdly chalk white skin, the man looked to be an ordinary man.
“He’s a criminal from Gotham, but he’s more than just a criminal. He’s a mass murdering clown. He’s all about the punchline of some really sick jokes. He uses poisoned laughing gas…” John’s tone held a clear note of fear. “Batman has put him in Arkham Asylum more times than anyone can count, but he always escapes. He’s dangerous and he has a girlfriend named Harley Quinn–they are usually inseparable.”
Angel wrinkled his nose at John. “Pfft! He’s a fucking clown? Are you serious? The way you’re acting, I’d have thought el Diablo had just walked on the scene. Man, you see the monsters with us? Some city clown isn’t going to stand a chance.” Angel laughed and then added with a grin. “I’m gonna move close to get a better look. Wildman tearing this fuck up is gonna be funny.” Angel moved forward a couple of steps, trying to see and listen to what was going on while his partner didn't move.
Angel stepping closer left John in a little pocket of solitude.
The beat of John’s heart fueled the cold lump of fear in his stomach. Something wasn’t right. Maybe it was seeing the Joker here of all places on some jungle covered island, but it bothered him that he didn’t see Harley Quinn. Back in Gotham they were always together. Always.
Looking toward Angel, John glanced over to where Martha and Edmund stood, except they were both gone.
“Where the fuck…” John tried to look around, but with the flickering lights of the torches around the village, there were lots of shadows. Maybe they were just standing in shadow, but his gut told him something was wrong, very wrong.
He was about to move closer to Angel when he suddenly felt exposed, but just as he took his first step toward Angel, something dropped down from the trees to land on his shoulders, nearly knocking him to his knees. Before John could yell out a warning, or even a gasp of shock, his air was cut off as a leg was wrapped tightly around his throat, the foot of that leg hooked under his attacker’s other leg creating a stranglehold around his throat. His attacker grabbed his head, the fingers of one hand clutching a handful of his hair while the other hand wrapped around his ear, but the pain of his hair and ear being pulled was overshadowed by his need to breathe.
John gasped silently, trying to howl in pain, for help, for anything, but no sound came out. He dropped his gun (the rifle being useless in this sudden grappling attack) and grabbed at the legs around his throat, but they gripped him as firmly as stone. No matter how hard he struck or clawed, the legs around his neck never let up.
Whoever was on top of his shoulders squeezed their legs harder yet, cutting off the last thin breaths he had managed to take. John stumbled backwards, deeper into the jungle now, frantic as he clawed at the person choking him. Dark spots were beginning to form at the edges of his vision. John spun around, saw Angel, who seemed further away. Angel never looked back, heard nothing, his attention on the performance in front of him.
The legs around John squeezed harder still. He felt pain, tearing pain…It was excruciating. He couldn’t yell and though he continued to claw at the legs around his neck, trying to gasp for a breath, he found nothing but pain and darkening sight. Breathing was more important than whatever the pain was….
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna send you straight to hell…”
The voice was close to his ear as he felt the person on his shoulders bend over him. John caught a glimpse of blonde hair, and for a moment the woman on his shoulders face came into view as she looked over the top of his head at him and grinned wide. Blonde hair, bright, almost feverish blue eyes, pale skin…she was beautiful. John was having trouble connecting the person choking him to the angel he was seeing.
His angel continued to sing in a sweet, feminine, and angelic voice that was followed by a girlish giggle.
“And if you don’t make it to hell, Mama’s gonna buy you a bullet to the brain…”
*
Harley put all her strength in her legs, squeezing the soldier's neck as hard as she could while also holding onto his hair with the hand of her wounded arm and his ear with her other hand. She could feel a couple of her stitches in her arm pop and the warmth of fresh blood rolling down her arm where it had spilled past the bandage. This would have been so much easier if this douche would stop walking about while she tried to kill him!
Rude!
The others had at least been easier. She strangled the woman soldier swiftly, having gotten the drop on her. The guy who’d been with the female soldier had been a little harder, but Harley had managed to catch him just after he stepped into the trees to take a piss. He’d been easy too, because she had caught him just right, broken his neck the moment she grabbed that branch and lifted him in the air by her legs! The sound his neck made had been hilarious! It had immediately popped! It would have been funnier if her puddin had been with her. Now she just had to laugh about it by herself, which sucked!
Nothing was as much fun or as funny without her puddin at her side.
This would have been easier too if she’d had some sort of weapon and not just her hands and feet…especially since she was down a hand! That made her angry thinking about how just a few minutes ago she’d been having a romantic stroll on the beach with her puddin. This was the closest she was ever going to get to an island vacation! She wasn’t even in her own clothes or wearing any shoes!
Harley squeezed even harder, glowering down at the man she was trying to murder.
When she and Joker decided to separate, originally she had voted for herself as the distraction and not Joker. Her argument had been that she was infinitely more annoying than him, and her gymnastics training made her quick and nimble, but he’d insisted that she be the one to do the stealth killing.
When she had protested, Joker had pulled her close. He was careful of her injured arm, but his attention was also focused on her wound. Gently, he caressed the skin around her bandage before he kissed her, at first just small nip-like kisses until he pulled her closer and kissed her, this time deeply. Harley lost herself for a few precious moments in that kiss. When he pulled back from the kiss, Joker whispered to her, his tone strained.
“I just…” He paused, pressing his lips together, but Harley had smiled at her understanding. He didn’t want her to be the focus after what had happened. That man who had tried to use her, hurt her, Joker had looked at her desperately, wanting her to understand, but not wanting to actually voice his fear.
She kissed him in return, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in for a hard, passionate kiss. When she pulled back, Harley laid her forehead against her puddin’s and whispered, “Don’t you dare fucking die on me, got it? ‘Cause if you do I’m going to hell and I’m going to drag your pale ass back to the world of the living, even if I have to kill the devil himself, got it?”
She had practically glared into his eyes and he’d smiled back at her.
“Got it sweets, no dying. That goes for you too, though I’d just drive myself down to the infernal regions and take over so we can be the king and queen of hell.”
Harley giggled. “I like the sound of that.”
“You’d look so sexy in a crown and nothing else.” Joker had purred against her ear before kissing her.
*
Grinning at the memory of Joker ending that conversation with another knee wobbling kiss, she squeezed the soldier's neck even harder. She needed to hurry and kill this one so she could get to the others. She needed to kill as many of them as she could while her puddin was acting as the distraction. She needed to be ready to help him!
Frantically trying to figure out a way to choke this guy faster, Harley happened to glance up and see a large, thick branch, the right size to hold a lot of weight. It was gonna hurt like hell, but it had to be done, Harley told herself. Using her hips and leaning, Harley steered her staggering victim toward the tree. The moment they passed under it, Harley reached up with both arms.
The flash of pain accompanied by the feeling of stitches popping nearly made Harley faint. Dark spots appeared in the corners of her vision as the pain shot through her before plunging into her stomach.
She almost vomited.
Grinding her teeth against the pain and the nausea, Harley lifted herself and her victim up off the ground, if only a few inches…just enough to pull the man she had with her and lift his feet off the forest floor. The man had a spurt of energy and fought like a wild animal for a few seconds that made her worry she might drop them both back to the ground.
At the same moment the soldier stopped struggling, Harley felt his adam’s apple crack and he went still, his body suddenly dead weight. Harley promptly released him, dropping the man’s body to the ground and then let go of the branch. She dropped to land in a crouch before falling forward to her knees as she hissed in pain and grabbed her arm.
Carefully, Harley pulled the bandages to the side to inspect the wound. It was freely bleeding again, making it hard to determine the damage, but it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch and she could barely move the arm without nauseating pain shooting through her. Harley knew from experience that if she could just push past the initial pain, then she could keep going long after she should have stopped. She would deal with the damage later.
“Fuck,” Harley muttered. So much for her sneak attacks, guess it was time to go full monty. A silent giggle made her smile; her puddin would have loved that lame joke.
Moving quickly, Harley searched the man. She took his pistol, its extra magazines, and a knife. She used the knife to quickly cut off some of the man’s shirt and wrapped the makeshift bandage around her wounded arm as best she could, tight, but not too tight. Once she had her wound rewrapped, Harley took off, blending into the jungle around her.
*
Joker came strolling out into the open, a wide smile on his pale face.
Inwardly, Joker felt nervous.
He’d sent Harley, his girl, his lover, his everything, out into the jungle to take out as many of the enemy soldiers as she could while he distracted the bad guys, particularly the giant monstrous looking ones. It made him feel sick to let her go. He’d already suffered through thinking she was dead, that he had really lost her, followed by some monster trying to force himself on her…
Joker felt a strong, nearly desperate urge to go chase after Harley. He wanted to grab her up and put her somewhere safe, someplace where no one could harm her ever again. The urge was so strong that it was a physical ache.
But Joker also knew if he did that, or attempted to do that, Harley would kill him–or deny him nookie, which would be infinitely worse than death.
“Focus,” Joker muttered to himself while keeping his smile in place. “Harley is tough, she knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s a capable killer.” Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Joker’s smile widened a fraction before he called out cheerily.
“And he huffed and puffed and tried to blow their houses down…”
*
Wildman looked confused when he saw the man with the green hair. There was something about the man that looked familiar while also looking completely out of place. After a few more seconds, Wildman realized who the man looked liked.
Leaning close, Wildman whispered to Jennifer. “Is that…doesn’t he look like...the Joker?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, he does.” After another beat, with Jennifer tilting her head to the side studying the man, she added in a stunned tone, “Yeah, ah, I think that might actually be him.”
If anyone would have asked her, Jennifer, a born and bred Gothamite, she would have said it was impossible for Joker to venture outside of Gotham City. She also would have said that there was no way anyone could capture Joker except for Batman. The only way she could think of getting Joker here would be to get Harley Quinn first.
“Where is Harley Quinn?” Jennifer hissed, looking around while muttering under her breath. “Something isn’t right.” She continued to look around and brought her weapon up.
“We shouldn’t let him talk, we should shoot him now.”
Motioning with his hands like he was calming down a hysterical animal, Wildman chuckled.
“Hold on, hold on, let’s not do anything drastic. I’m curious what’s going on here. He might know where Flag is and besides, fucking with the Joker should be fun. I bet I can take care of Gotham’s clown problem with one good punch to the head. Gotham would love me! Put that fucking fuck Batman out of business.” Wildman snickered as he leaned in and whispered to Jennifer with a wide leer. “I mean look at the man! What the fuck is wrong with your Batman if he can’t take care of one scrawny clown?”
Tilting his head, Wildman gave Jennifer this particular grin he had…a grin she knew meant Wildman was about to say something that would make her want to kill him. Fucker just liked poking the wasp nest with a stupid stick. One of these days the wasp was gonna grab that stick and shove it up his ass just like he deserved.
“If I bring you his head, you wanna fuck me in gratitude? How many women you think would want to fuck Joker’s killer? Ooh, or might pay for the privilege!” Smacking Jennifer on the shoulder, Wildman chuckled.
“Oh fuck, I just thought, would I get Harley Quinn? I’d be her new owner! Isn’t she like a pet or something?” He sneered and lifted a nearly hairless brow at her.
“Fuck off, Wildman!” Jerking her shoulder away from Wildman, Jennifer snarled low hoping they were keeping this one-sided conversation out of earshot of the others. The last thing Jennifer wanted was for someone to report back to Nuke that she couldn’t control Wildman. She nearly elbowed Wildman when she yanked her shoulder away from him, but he moved out of her way quickly enough to avoid her elbow. He sneered at her. “Too slow there Jen.”
Jennifer glared back at him. Her white iris and red pupil eyes, surrounded by a sea of darker red instead of white, was disconcerting. Wildman would never let her, or anyone else, know that, especially not Jennifer. That bitch would stare at him all the time if she knew her eyes bothered him.
Exterminator, his bright red skin making him look like the devil himself, chuckled next to them. “You two should just fuck and get it over with. Your flirting is painful.”
Next to Exterminator, Headhunter snickered, his one remaining eye glowed with its own red energy as he looked over at Wildman and Jennifer.
“I’m not flirting with Harold,” Jennifer hissed using Wildman’s real name because she knew it annoyed him. Of course she was annoyed herself, knowing the other two had heard her and Wildman’s conversation. She really needed to talk to Nuke into doing something about Harold. The man was living up to his nickname, he was a wild card…a Wildman. And maybe a liability.
Wildman smirked at her and winked. “I know you want me.”
“You motherfucking…” Jennifer began, but Wildman cut her off. “I think I’ll give these little villagers a demonstration, a fuck around and find out demonstration in fact. Show them what happens when you work against us instead of with us.” Wildman handed his weapons to Jennifer. “Hold onto this for me would you?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jennifer asked, only realizing a second later she had automatically taken Wildman’s gun and knife when he handed them to her. Sometimes military training pissed her off because it made her act in ways that weren’t “her,” like holding Wildman’s weapon for him.
“I’m going to fight him,” Wildman explained with enough of an attitude in his tone, Jennifer contemplated giving him a bloody lip. “Shouldn’t be much of a fight, but once the villagers see what we’re going to do with them if they don’t cooperate…” Wildman rolled his shoulders. “Though there’s always some dumbass who sees himself as a hero.”
“Why are you going to fight him? It's stupid. Besides, you already killed that kid!” Jennifer snapped at Wildman, gesturing to the dead guard at their feet.
“Fuck off Jen, Nuke put me in charge and I say I’m going to twist that motherfucking faggot into a fucking pretzel and then I’m going to do the same to every villager, man, woman, or child who doesn’t tell me what I want to hear.”
Spitting at Jennifer’s unbooted, monstrous sized feet, Wildman turned and stalked toward Joker avoiding Jennifer’s evil glare. He called out, his tone conversational as he approached the clown.
“Imagine my surprise at seeing the Joker in our little jungle. What are you doing here clown?”
Jennifer glared at Wildman’s back, but she did nothing.
*
Standing a short distance from the fountain, Joker waited patiently, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Scanning the jungle behind the freak squad, looking for Harley, Joker started to sing under his breath, lightly tapping his bare foot in time to the song.
“'Cause I'd rather stay here
With all the madmen
Than perish with the sad men
Roaming free…”
He watched the two mutated Frankenstein soldiers argue. He was pretty sure they thought they were whispering, but everyone could hear their heated conversation.
“And I'd rather play here
With all the madmen
For I'm quite content
They're all as sane as me…”
Suddenly the toothless, bald monster of a man turned around and yelled out as he walked toward Joker. The clown noted the man had given his weapons to the giant, weird-eyed woman. A slow lopsided smile spread across Joker’s face as he realized what was probably going to happen–perfect.
“Imagine my surprise at seeing the Joker in our little jungle…what are you doing here clown?”
“Well, just imagine my surprise ending up here!” Joker laughed and shook his head. “I’m not built for jungle living, I can tell you what! This humidity is murder on my suits and don't even get me started on my hair!”
Joker let out a good-natured laugh, running his fingers through his green hair, pushing the mass of green waves back only to have them fall back into place with one curl hanging down across Joker’s forehead, making the murderous clown look younger and more vulnerable than he was.
“So, I’m guessing you’re one of Amanda Waller’s Oopsie monsters she wants cleaned up?”
Wildman’s eye twitched at the mention of Waller’s name.
“Who you calling a monster clown? You don’t exactly look like one of them.” He motioned toward the village inhabitants.
“True, but I just came this way, much to Gotham’s pleasure and my pumpkin, but you…” Joker looked Wildman up and down. “I’m going to assume you didn’t have much going in the looks department, which is why this…” He gestured up and down at Wildman. “...doesn’t bother you. I, on the other hand, would probaby kill myself if I looked like you. Though Big Red back there might have it the worst.” Joker cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled at Exterminator.
“You look like you got a tan in hell! You got enough aloe?” Tilting his head to the side, his eyes wide, Joker gave the big red man a terrifying looking smile.
The big red-skinned man looked suddenly nervous, but then, as if realizing people were looking at him, he instead narrowed his eyes, giving his best sinister look in return, though he said nothing.
*
Harley had moved back into the trees, which hadn’t been easy with her injured arm, but she had managed. If Joker hadn’t been distracting them she would have been caught. The amount of noise she made trying to get into the tree with her injured arm should have alerted someone, but everyone's attention was on her puddin.
Leaning against the trunk of the tree, Harley looked out. She was now just above the female monster soldier, but she also had a great view of what was happening between her puddin and the monster below.
“Kill him puddin,” she whispered to herself, her eyes glued to Joker, ready to jump in if necessary.
*
“Anyway, back to business. So you were saying something about making an example out of little old me.” Joker touched his chest with the tips of his fingers while smiling and fluttering his eyes.
“Let me guess, super secret soldier experiments didn’t tell you that your family jewels were gonna shrivel up and Mr. Peppy wasn’t going to be a Mr. Peppy anymore, but Mr. Floppy Weasel? And now you have to figure out a way to show you are still the man by beating up a defenseless, young clown.”
Joker made a duck lip pouty face. “Has anyone told you that right now you look like an overgrown baby? You know, there is this whole fetish thing you should think about getting into, could be a whole new career! You might even make more money than what you’re getting for becoming this thing.” Joker gestured at Wildman. “There’s a name for it, it’s called…” He paused and tapped a finger against his bottom lip. “What was it called? Harley told me…Oh! Got it! Paraphilic infantilism! You could have a paraphilic infantilism OnlyFans site! Put you in a pair of really big diapers, get you a pacifier, and there ya go!”
*
“What’s happening?” Boomer asked, looking up from his place under the window to Selina and King Shark who were both hovering over him looking out the window.
“Not really sure.” Standing on the opposite side of the window next to KS, Selina replied without looking down at Boomer.. “It looks like they’re going to fight each other.” She frowned in confusion at the absurdity of the scene.
“Fuck, that guy’s gonna kill Joker!” Boomer gasped. “I mean, look at the size of him! Too bad we can’t place bets, huh?” He chuckled.
“I wouldn’t dismiss Joker if I were you,” Selina replied, this time looking down at Boomer. “I’ve seen the man fight. He’s not just vicious, he’s also cunning, quick, and a lot stronger than you’d think. Why do you think he’s Batman’s arch nemesis? It’s because the man is frighteningly dangerous, that’s why.”
*
Giggling, his eyes brightm Joker winked at Wildman. “And if you really want to get into some kinky stuff, start putting pictures of your feet up!” Smiling and sighing dramatically, Joker pouted.
“I was going to do an OnlyFans page, but when Harley found out, she got a little upset. She smashed the video camera to pieces with her bat. It was glorious! She’s just so jealous, I love it!”
He chuckled and sighed happily. “She then fucked my brains out to help expunge the idea from my head, though she promised there would be further appointments to expunge any such thoughts from my mind.
“She is just the bee's knees.”
*
In her tree, Harley giggled quietly.
The fact that he remembered her teaching him about paraphilic infantilism after they had seen a man in diapers with a pacifier being pulled down the sidewalk by a stout woman, made Harley smile. Joker had been so confused that he hadn’t shot them, but instead he had just stared at the strange couple.
She remembered that night clearly, though now she was pretty positive the OnlyFans nonsense had just been that–nonsense. A joke to see her reaction, to assure himself that she loved him, and to calm himself in the knowledge that Harley didn’t want to share him.
He’d told her one time back in Arkham, when she was his doctor, how he’d never belonged to anyone. He didn’t have any parents he could remember, no siblings or other relatives, no one to claim him, no one who wanted him, no one who loved him.
The only thing that Joker was scared of was losing her.
*
“Shut up, ya’ motherfucking dead fish faggot!” Wildman snarled. “Jennifer was right, shouldn’t have let you start talking, you fucking effeminate clown.”
“Ooh, you know a big word. Wanna teach me a lesson big boy?” Joker gave the other man a flirtatious smile, followed by a wink, a lick of his lips, and a kissy face.
Wildman looked so disgusted and even a little afraid, that Joker exploded into laughter.
Growling, his eyes ablaze with rage and hatred, Wldman bent forward, like a charging bull, and rushed the clown.
Joker didn’t bother trying to avoid the attack, or defend against it, instead he held his arms open wide while laughing.
“Come here, sweetie pie and give your old Uncle Joker a hug and a kiss!
Wildman hit Joker, crashing into the slimmer man and knocking some of the air from Joker’s lungs as he lifted the green-haired clown off his feet.
Despite the pain, Joker threw his arms out wide and laughed. The sound of his laughter was a meld between madness, pain, and savagery. The sound made everyone watching freeze, their eyes wide, like prey that just realized it was in danger.
Except for Harley.
She laughed right along with her puddin, her Joker.
Movement from below her caught Harley’s attention and she immediately stopped laughing. Balancing on one of the tree's thick branches, Harley realized the movement she’d heard was a human.
Harley watched as her next victim stopped under her tree and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. This was perfect.
She couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity.