#deadly voice fan ficiton

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 30

Hiya Guys,

I can’t believe I am on part 30 and I’ve now been writing for over 4 months! Ahhh! I also can’t believe that people are actually liking and enjoying my writing so thank you guys all so much! i really appreciate it more than you can possibly understand!

Ok anyway here’s the next part, again not 100% happy with it - but I never am! So have it anyway!

I promise I will put some Joker in the next chapter?

Anyway enjoy!

Warnings: Brief mention of suicide

Masterlist

“What is this?” I asked grabbing the phone from Frost’s hand and reading the article - scanning it desperately to find what the headline could possibly mean. There was no main picture with the article, but I knew –from the title alone -it was about the Joker.

My eyes flickered over the large body of text and some of the words seem to stand out in bold to me – ‘…Joker’, ’ …met his demise’, ‘…suicide’, ‘…death’. Panic began to set into my body, my hands becoming clammy, my breaths shorter, and my heart beat unsteady. “Frost what is this?!” I repeated desperately at the screen, not looking at him as I blinked rapidly at the tears pricking at my eyes and blurring my vision.

“Read it.” He simply told me and he too seemed to be struggling with what was on the screen. I took a breath to try to get myself under control and focus on the whole article, now taking my time now to actually read the full page. It was dated from an hour earlier and the words swam and danced in front of me till I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Finally I could read it, “It’s been two weeks since the Arkham escapee ‘The Joker’ was last seen on the streets of Gotham. It is unknown if this lack of activity is signalling the end of his recent run of crime or if another attack is still in the planning.

The GCPD has so far refused to confirm or deny whether they or the Batman have apprehended the clown prince of crime, but - in a surprising twist today – reports have begun to circulate that the jesting villain may have met his demise.

So far no body has been identified but rumours on the streets of Gotham vary- some claiming there was a possible suicide attempt by the well-known psychopath; others claiming it was by the hand of the masked vigilante Batman – but with the clear theme of the psychotic clown’s death.

There has still yet to be any evidence provided to support any of the theories suggested so far and speculation still remains on the Joker’s current whereabouts. The GCPD -

I broke off there, my eyes once again blurring too much as the tears slide down my face. I handed Frost back his phone and I peeked at him through the hair that fell across my eyes – trying to see if I could catch any emotions on his face. He seemed low, his frown more sad than grumpy now, but he showed no obvious distraught unlike me. When I fully raised my head and looked at him properly he met my gaze and there seemed almost pity in his eyes – probably for me and the state I had worked myself into - but also what seemed to be concern – concern for the Joker. What had happened? Was he truly dead? Was I too late to make it to Gotham?

By this point I no longer cared what reason I had given myself to justify returning to Gotham – I could no longer lie to myself that my decision had come from wishing to save innocent civilians who got in his way. Heck, now – if the article was true – they would probably be much safer!

But I no longer cared about them – and had I ever truly? Every last person could die now for all I cared if it would only ensure he was alive. I was a selfish person, making excuses so that I didn’t feel I was an insane little girl running back into the arms of my tormentor.

But now I didn’t care anymore.

I couldn’t lie to myself or anyone else anymore. If there was even a remote chance he was alive I had to know. I had to go to Gotham and find him – dead or alive.

As I had become lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice how shallow my breathing had gotten, how shaky my hands. I began to become detached from everything around me, my head becoming dizzy and cloudy. I became so numb that I didn’t even notice Frost move towards me and I only vaguely acknowledged my knees giving way beneath me.

I never felt myself hit the floor.

When I became conscious once more I was confused.

I couldn’t recall anything from before – what day was it? Did I have a shift? Did my alarm wake me up? Why wasn’t it still chiming?

Then memories began to flow back through my mind – was any of that a dream? I could remember talking to Frost at the door, then him appearing in my living room, then him leaving. Snap shots of recollections playing across my eyelids. I could remember opening the door my front door once more to go searching for Frost, but what then –

The Phone.

The Article.

I snapped my eyes open - the bright light from the surrounding windows causing me to squint. As my eyes adjusted I noticed I was in the passenger seat of a large SUV which Frost appeared to be driving down a long stretch of open highway. I blinked some more in the daylight, my eyes still sore and raw from crying earlier, and watched the farmed fields and occasional town sliding past.

I turned to look across to the driver side where Frost was sat staring straight ahead, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.

He glanced over at me as I pushed myself more upright, shifting in my seat and groaning as I moved -  my neck protested sharply at the change in angle. “Ugh – How long was I out?” I asked, my voice sound croaky from sleep.

“About an hour.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I didn’t know what to say to that, and so a silence fell between us, the only sound in the car coming from the roar of the engine and road. I sat looking forward, watching the brake lights of vehicles in front of us light up as I came to grips with the situation I found myself in and what had happened before I woke up. Why had I fainted?

“Frost.” I started cautiously, sensing his tense mood. “What happened?”

“You had a panic attack.” He informed me, “You blacked out from it.”

Well that was odd. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was little – and never one strong enough to knock me out. I could feel my cheeks warming as I thought about poor Frost left alone to deal with a women who had just fainted in front of him. “I’m sorry.” I muttered humiliated, no longer able to look at him.

“No need to –“ he mumbled uncomfortably and became incoherent over the noise of the road.

We couldn’t look at each now, both a bit self-conscious or embarrassed about the whole thing. I kept my eyes staring out of the passenger window, acutely aware of how red my cheeks must be. I tried to take my mind off it by looking for an indication of where we were, or a road sign telling me where we might be heading.

“Frost.” I started once more, trying to break the awkward silence between us. “Are we going to Gotham?” I asked turning back to him.

He shot a quick look at me to gage how I felt about this before he gave a nod, “Yes.” He confirmed, “And before you start yelling I can explain. I –“

“It’s alright Frost. Don’t worry about it.” I said, interrupting him before he began another long speech in an attempt to convince me that this was the right thing to do. I watched his eyebrows crinkle in confusion as he continued to watch the road.

“You’re not mad that I basically abducted you?” he questioned.

“No.” I said simply like it was no big problem. “I would probably have come anyway.” I admitted, shrugging and looking back out the window. Frost still looked confused and I realised I had never told him about my change in heart about returning to Gotham. “I was going to come find you, by the way.” I clarified, glancing over at his profile, “I changed my mind - I want to go back.”

Any reactions he had to this sudden revelation he chose to keep hidden under his emotionless mask – though I thought I saw a glimpse of relief in his eyes. He was probably glad that I wasn’t going to put up a struggle, not that there was much I could do in a locked vehicle travelling way over the speed limit down a highway in the middle of nowhere.

We fell quiet again, but now that the air was cleared between us it felt more relaxed, almost companionable, and I noticed that Frost’s hands had loosened slightly on the steering wheel. I turned back to my window to watch the world fly by - the sun now almost at its highest point in the sky, though partially hidden behind clouds of different shades that lazily floated by reminding me of the never ending questions that drifted in my mind.

“Uh – Frost?” I said abruptly, getting his attention, “Are we really driving all the way to Gotham?” I knew that would take days - at least 2 days - and that would be without any breaks along the way.

“No.” He answered, glancing in the rear view mirror and signalling to change lanes, “We’re driving to the nearest airport.”

“Oh. Ok.” I acknowledged lamely, not sure what else to say and my courage to ask more was failing me. Though I now felt I knew Frost better, he still continued to intimidate me, at some times more than others and I was very aware that he that the upper hand in this situation – being the driver and actually aware of where we were. Though I had yelled and bullied him back at my house on the farm, I was no longer in my comfort zone – in fact I was probably at least 100 miles from my comfort zone – and I knew it. I no longer felt brave or strong and felt almost completely at Frost’s mercy. I didn’t like it one bit.

To take my mind off these depressing and worrying thoughts I - once again - returned my gaze to the scenery outside my window, took a deep, slightly shaky breath, and considered the reason behind the  current state of things.

There was a good chance the Joker was dead.

There was also a chance he wasn’t.

I was in love with the Joker.

If – upon returning to Gotham city - he was dead I would be heart broken and at a complete loss as to what to do about it.

If he wasn’t, I would be suddenly confronted with a very much alive and – by the sounds of it – much more psychotic joker. And still at a complete loss as to what to do about it.

So I was going into this with no plan what so ever.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. How were we even going to find him? How did Frost know where he would be? Sure he must know the Joker’s hideouts, but what if they changed? What if he was dead? Where would he be then?

“Um, Frost?” I inquired, plucking up the courage to question him once more. He nodded slightly to show he was listening, “Uh – What – what are we doing?” I asked, “What’s the plan here?”

He paused a moment, as if considering the best way to explain it, “We are going back to Gotham to look for the Joker.” He stated matter-of-factly, almost as though I was just another henchman and he was briefing me on our mission.

“Yes…” I drew out, “But… um, how are we going to find him?” I asked, nervously fiddling with my fingers on my lap.

“Our best hope is he’s just laying low at the moment.” Frost informed me, “If that’s the case then there are several hideouts he may be at. We need to head to each one and search them.” He explained, keeping his eyes ahead, not looking at me once. “Hopefully we will find him. I we don’t we may at least get an idea of where he’s gone.”

“How many places are we talking?” I asked, wondering if he was referring to 3 buildings or 50.

“A lot.” He said simply. I gulped, there goes at least my next week probably – and I wasn’t sure how much time we had left – if any.

“That’ll take forever.” I pointed out.

“You got a better idea?” He asked sarcastically, raising one eyebrow and glancing over at me. I thought about it for a bit, turning away from him to watch the white road marks slide by as I thought. There had to be a better way, a quicker, more efficient way to do this. But how was I supposed to know?

And so I spent the rest of the drive pondering different options to keep my mind from other things.

At the airport I awkwardly followed Frost around, not really knowing what his plan was to get us on a plane that would leave within the next 30 minutes.

Somehow – god knows how but I believe it involved a large sum of money – he managed to secure us 2 tickets - both 1st class too, I noted as I glanced at the ticket he handed to me. How much money did this man have?!

I had never sat in first class before – surprise, surprise – and I felt like an imposter sat in their curtain off area in a plush reclining bed-chair, each with their own private screen. Why did we have to sit in 1st class?! It was like a half an hour flight – barely enough time to have the complimentary drink! I didn’t touch the sparkling water I order, too anxious to enjoy any of the luxuries that lay before me, instead I stared out the round little port hole window at the wispy clouds and blue sky, thinking about everything I would have to deal with when we eventually landed.

I was still hopeless trying to figure out a way we could find the Joker quicker – but how was I supposed to know what to do? I didn’t know their whole operation or how things ran – how was I going to know if there was a better idea? Sure, if Frost was talking to a henchman at least they would know a bit more about everything that went on – they might actually be able to give a useful sug-.

“Frost!” I called across the aisle, where he sat reading his phone screen. He looked up at me, frowning and clearly a bit surprised at my sudden wish to talk when I had been completely silent since we’d gotten out of the car. “Do you know any henchman that might have been with the Joker?” I asked hopefully.

“There were some guys still around when I left. Why?” he asked, crinkling his forehead in confusion.

“Could you ring any of them?” I inquired excited by my brain wave and not answering his question.

“I don’t have their numbers.” He informed me, returning his gaze to his phone, “It’s all part of security. No one has anyone numbers – expect the boss - in case anyone is caught and might compromise our operation.” He explained.

“Oh.” I mumbled, feeling deflated that my idea failed, but I supposed it made sense. “So how do you communicate?” I asked – just generally interested now.

“Radios.” He said simply without looking up.

“Ok…” I said, drawing it out as I tried to think of a way to rework my plan, “Do you know where any of them live?” He looked back up - seeming to be intrigued with where I was going with this

“Yeah. It’s my job to know.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Well, why don’t we go see a couple of them first?” I proposed, “Ask them if they have any ideas where to try? It might limit the number of sites we have to hit?” I suggested a bit nervously now – self-conscious by his full sudden full interest in what I was saying and worried it was a ridiculous idea – why else wouldn’t he have come up with it?

He seemed to consider if for a bit – looking for the flaws in my plan. “Yeah. Maybe.” He eventually admitted before once again becoming glued to his phone screen. We remained in silence for the rest of the flight.

I stuck to Frost like glue when we disembarked the plane – not entirely sure what we were going to do next. I followed him as we fought our way through those heading for luggage collection and out into a large main hall. Frost strode forward through the crowd, people parting before him, whilst I followed behind like a second shadow in the space left behind. I watched the people that milled around the large hall - men with briefcases, women in tight pencil skirts and heels, young children with brightly coloured rucksacks and crew members dressed in their varying uniforms.

Eventually the signs overhead seemed to suggest that Frost was leading me in the direction of taxis, trains, buses and car rentals and I soon found myself stepping out of the elevator into the airport’s multi-storey car park.

“Wait here.” Frost ordered me as we entered the third floor of parked cars. I frown at his back in confusion at his command as he continued to walk away from me, but did as he said – remaining by the entrance.

I watched him as he walked down past the row of cars, moving in and out of the small dim spotlights that illuminated small circles of the tarmac floor. He kept turning his head slightly either way as he checked the surroundings, finally stopping side of a SUV similar to what we had previously travelled in, although this one appeared to be a deep blue colour. He moved down the side of the car and stopped so he faced the driver’s door. I couldn’t see what he was doing as his actions hidden by the rows of cars between me and him, but he seemed to be fiddling with something in front him, his arms moving in jerks and tweaks.

All of a sudden he pulled back and then tried the car door, and I was amazed when it opened. Did he already have the keys for it? Then he slid into the driver’s seat and sat there for a few more moments appearing to now be toying with something in the car. All of a sudden the car’s engine roared and erupted into life. Was he stealing that car?!

He closed the driver’s door behind him and drove out of the space before pulling up next to me. When I didn’t move from my frozen state on the pavement he leant across the car to push open the passenger door. “Get in.” He grunted curtly at me. I hesitated only for a second before doing as instructed. He quickly accelerated away before I had even closed the door and I gripped my seat tightly to make sure I didn’t fly out of the chair as I heard the tyres screech beneath me.

When I finally felt secure, the door now closed and my seatbelt finally fastened, I turned to look at his profile as he drove out of the car park. “Did you just steal a car?!” I demanded.

“Didn’t have time to arrange one.” He said gruffly, not looking at me. When I didn’t say anything he glanced at me and must have noticed the shock still on his face, “Oh come on, you can’t be that surprised.” He muttered, clearly annoyed at how long it was taking for me to adjust to the fact that he was a criminal and therefore did criminal things.

I shook my head in amazement about how relaxed he was about what he had just done had, but decided there was no point in trying to get him to understand that his actions weren’t actually legal – this was probably not the first time he had done this, and I doubted it would be the last.

Instead I moved my gaze to the window, watching the different cars that lined us on either side slide past in the pools of artificial light, trying to come to terms with sitting in a stolen car and being yet another accomplice to a crime.

Eventually we emerged into the light of the day - though there wasn’t much of it.

Gotham was just exactly as I remembered it, as I gazed out of my tinted window, the same gloomy skies and dirty streets, the same noisy traffic rushing past and people pushing their way through crowds in their thick coats. Home I thought as Frost drove us through the streets, the tall imposing office buildings towering over us. It was home and I had truly missed it - only really realising it now that I was back in the comfort of its familiarity.

After having drunk in the sights around me I turned back to Frost, “So where are we going?”

[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader Deadly Voice Part 35

Hey guys,

I would just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who is sticking with me on this fan ficiton! I really appreciate the messages I am getting! I love them - they honestly make my whole week!

So here is the next part, quite short compared to what I have been doing recently, but hope you enjoy anyway - i wasn’t really sure where i was going with it as you can probably tell!

Enjoy! :)

P.S. If anyone wants to be tagged whenever I post a new part I am happy to do that, just let me know!

Masterlist

I spent the next day berating myself for that night. I couldn’t get over what I had done or even how I had done it. It was like the incidence with the newspaper and Hannah all over again. But this time I had a weapon, first a knife and then - thanks to the generosity of the Joker - my gun.

I tried to seek comfort in the fact that I hadn’t actually killed him, though this wasn’t particularly reassuring as I knew I would have quite happily. At least now I knew that it wasn’t the Joker that had set up my job with Penguin, and therefore set up everything after. No, life had just happened that way.

This didn’t change my opinion of Jake, but it made me hate the Joker a tiny bit less.

I tried to keep that night’s events out of my mind and move on from it, promising myself something like that would never happen again. I just had to keep my head low and stay away from those that might do me wrong.

Of course I had managed to lose my job through my actions. Darren couldn’t exactly keep on someone that attack his other staff and threatened their life – completely understandable I thought. Besides, I had already talked myself into leaving the club thanks to Rebecca pointing out that the Joker might turn up any night looking for me.

And so I was jobless again.

For the next few days I didn’t really leave my tiny flat, I just sat on my laptop searching and applying for new jobs. It wasn’t that there was a lack of jobs as such, more that I was becoming more and more picky toward them. I needed something that would cover my rent, but I was also now purposefully looking for venues where I didn’t particularly like the staff - thanks to Rebecca’s obvious point – I didn’t want to destroy anyone else’s business by attracting the wrong crowd and I couldn’t predict whether the Joker would ever come looking for me again.

It was a few days after I had confronted Jake when there was a knock on my door. I had been curled up with a hot drink, once more scrolling through the same ads I had scrolled through at least 5 times before, when the door sounded and I jumped at the sudden noise.

I frowned at the door – who on Earth was it? No one knew where I lived and I didn’t really have any friends to tell in the first place. It must just be a charity or something, but they would have to have e buzz them in. My heart dropped, it must be the landlord for some reason – had my rent not gone through? I had only just managed to scrape enough together to pay for this month, I couldn’t afford any more problems - I really needed a new job soon.

Another series of knocks rang out and I placed my mug down on the coffee table, throwing my computer off my lap and unfolding myself from the sofa, making my way to the door.

I pulled it open, already apologising to the landlord for whatever I was being accused of.

I blinked in surprise at the man before me. “Oh, uh - Hi Frost.” I greeted.

“Hello [Y/N].”

I quickly glanced either side of him, searching for anyone else that might be lurking in the corridor, “He’s not with me.” Frost reassured me.

“Oh. good.” I muttered lamely, straightening up and glancing around awkwardly, searching for something to say as we stood silently in the doorway. “Um… Can I help you?”

He watched me for a few beats, as though measuring me up or looking for something before he seemed content and gave a small nod, “Yes.”

Oh lovely, he was being vague. “Uh… Would you like to come in?” I asked, knowing he was clearly after something, but also not willing to save the both of us a load of time and just come out and say it.

“Please.” He answered and I nodded, stepping back and pulling the door open in invitation. Frost stepped over the threshold and looked around at my small, rather dingy flat - no change occurring in his facial expression. I closed the door behind him and followed in further into the flat.

“Who did you think I was?” Frost asked abruptly, not bothering to turn around as he inspected my small lounge area.

“What?” I jumped slightly at the unexpected question, too busy lost in my own thoughts as to why he was here.

“You answered the door as if you knew who was on the other side,” He explained, “and it clearly wasn’t me you expected.”

“Uh- yeah, I – uh – I thought you were my landlord about my rent.”

He glanced at me before continuing to move around my open plan flat, “You’re struggling to pay for this?” He asked, amazed.

“Maybe.” I snipped bitterly, it was alright for some.

He realised he had offended me and straightened up slightly from where he was looking at a relatively empty bookshelf. “Sorry.” He said quickly and I knew he meant it.

I shrugged it off, “Not really your fault. I was the one that threatened a women with a knife – can’t blame them.” I said simply. “Now I spend my days job hunting.” I explained gesturing at my laptop on the sofa.

“No luck then?” Frost asked, sounding like he truly cared - though I doubted it.

“Minimal.” I muttered.

We fell into silence again and I began to feel very self-conscious of his rather thorough inspection of my living room. “So… um…” I mumbled, trying to think of something to break the uncomfortable silence, “How’s your neck?” I asked in an attempt of casual conversation

“Stiff.” He said, “But better.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, “Good.” I muttered, a bit peeved he wasn’t really helping the conversation – after all he was the one that came to talk to me, “So, um, are you back working for him again then?” Referring to the other night when he had clearly been at the meeting.

“Yes.” He said bluntly, not looking at me he moved into the kitchen, “He appears to be back to normal.”

“No grudges over the whole-“ I gestured at my own neck, where Frost’s wound would have been. He glanced over his shoulder at my pause and noticed my miming.

He shook his head as he turned back, “No,” He said, “I know he would not have done it had he been in his right mind.”

“The Joker has a right mind?” I mumbled without thinking.

“You know what I mean.” Frost muttered back, and I sort of did. The Joker did a lot of odd things, but they were always on purpose – I’d never known him to accidentally do something – but I also understood that he wouldn’t normally jump at Frost and attack him like he had.

Frost continued to wander my flat and I was becoming more and more worried he was going to start going through every draw in the place. I was running out of ideas to get Frost to actually talk to me and explain why he was here.

I steeled myself - no more beating around the bush, “Ok, enough chit-chat. Why are you here Frost?” I asked abruptly and he glanced over his shoulder at me in surprise at my sudden bluntness.

“Just seeing how you were doing.” He said simply.

“Really?” I asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, “You decided to go through all the pain of figuring out where I now live, finding a way to get into the building without using the buzzer and now are basically inspecting my entire flat,  just to check on how I was doing?” I paused, glancing away and then back to him, “Is this about the other night?” I asked the back of his head as he inspected a picture on my wall.

He finally turned to face me, “That made me want to check on you a bit sooner then I was going to.” He admitted.

“I don’t need you to check up on me!” I insisted loudly, “I’m not a child, I am a fully functioning adult that is quite capable of surviving just fine on my own!” I paused, trying to not get angry at him for his patronising behaviour – he probably meant well. “You know I travelled several hundred miles alone right? That I lived in that little town in the middle of nowhere, for basically a month on my own before you showed up? What makes you think I suddenly require babysitting?”

Frost suddenly round to face me, “Have you been back?” Frost asked, ignoring my question.

“Back? Where?” I furrowing my brow, “To the farm house? No, why would I?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“We left very abruptly.” He pointed out, “You didn’t pack anything – did you not leave a lot of possessions behind?”

I wondered where he was going with this – why was he so concerned if I didn’t have a few of my things? “I- uh – didn’t really have much.” I confessed, though continuing to eye him up warily, “I – I didn’t have much – I didn’t take much - most of it was new things I had bought.” I shrugged, “So I didn’t really care about leaving it behind.”

“So you have no beloved possessions?” He questioned doubtfully.

Why was he so insistent on this? “Uh, well, I guess there was – I mean there was one thing.” I told him reluctantly, I didn’t particular want to open up to a henchman – even he was basically a friend now.

He raised an eyebrow in question at me, signalling for me to carry on. I squirmed under the look, not wanting to reveal my weird little obsession with a photo. “It’s just a picture.” I blurted out, hoping that would be enough for him,

“A picture?” He repeated, I nodded, “Of what?”

I cringed away at the question, “It’s silly.” I told him, when he didn’t respond I looked back to him and he was still watching me expectantly. I sighed in defeat, “It’s just a picture of my club. You know - the one that was destroyed…” I trailed off lamely. By me.

If Frost found this at all odd he didn’t comment on it – for which I was grateful. Instead, however, I just stood there in silence. I couldn’t bear to look at him at the moment, worried – though he wasn’t saying anything – that his face would show what he really thought.

“So you don’t have this picture?”

“No.” I breathed at the floor, I looked back to meet his eyes again, “I left it behind and now the guy that owns the house has probably got rid of it.” I knew I had forgotten the picture but actually stopping to acknowledge the loss was painful - it was the last piece of my family I really. I could feel a lump of emotion forming in my throat as I thought of the fact it was now probably in a landfill somewhere, lost for good.

I cleared my throat, “Anyway.” I muttered, blinking back the water I could feel building up in my eyes, “Uh, why did you want to know?”

“I’ve got to head off actually, got a job in the area.” Frost said suddenly, turning away from the murky window he was looking out of. I was so taken aback by this sudden declaration that I didn’t notice he had once again ignored my question.

“Uh- ok – sure.” I stammered out, very confused and thinking Frost was behaving very oddly as I followed behind him to my front door. “Uh, Frost.” I called as I held the door open for him to step out. He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at me over his shoulder.

“Do you- could you- uh. What happened to Jake?” I asked, faltering as the two sides of me fought, my innocent naïve self that couldn’t condone what I had done and needed to know how Jake was doing, the side far happier with the suffering, not caring less what he was going through and feeling there was a lot more of suffering I could have caused to balance everything out.

“He’s getting medical attention.” Frost informed me.  “[Y/N].” Frost began, turning around completely now so that he faced me, “Why did you do it?” He asked, almost gently.

I could feel the two sides of me pushing back and forth, one wanting to break down and scream she didn’t know, the other willing to do it again and not needing to explain. “Ask him.” I snapped out eventually and I noticed Frost almost retract from my harsh tone, surprised as my personality seemed to shift to a stronger, more assertive self.

Frost’s reaction didn’t last very long before his calm mask returned, “I will when he wakes up.” Frost replied calmly, almost mechanically.

“He’s unconscious?” I asked in surprise, reverting back to my innocent side, Frost watching me suspiciously and slightly amazed at my sudden mood changes.

Frost nodded, “Doctors were unsure if it was the loss of blood or the blow to the side of the head.”

I crinkled my forehead at this, “What blow to the side of his head?” I asked, puzzled and replaying the night in my head, “He never hit the side of his head, just the back.”

Frost seemed confused just as confused at this, “No, he had a swelling on the back of his head, but also a slight fracture to the left side of his skull.” He explained.

This baffled me. How was that possible? I had definitely not hit the side of his head.  Had he fallen from where he had been slumped? No. That wasn’t a great enough fall to fracture the skull. Was it an old wound they had only just noticed? Or had I seriously done the damage but not remembered it? But I hadn’t drank or taken anything and - if it was true - then how was it that I could perfectly recall everything else about that night, there were no ‘blacked out’ parts of my memory.

Frost watched my face as I ran back through my memories; head bowed and eyes darting back and forth as I held the door open, trying to remember everything from that night.

There was no second head injury.

“I-I don’t remember.” I admitted, still deeply perplexed by this.

Jake Riggen lay unconscious in a sterile bed whilst bright lights illuminated his pale skin and multi-coloured bruises. X-rays hung on the wall, clearly showing the hairline fracture on the left side of his skull, and echoing beeps rang out in the otherwise silent hospital room which signalled his continuous heartbeat.

But Jake didn’t know any of this; all he knew were the last few moments before everything went black that now constantly replayed in his head.

She had turned back from the clown, towering over him as he clung to his arm where his body was tortuously pumped blood out of the deep gash.  She had lifted a gun – where had she got the gun? – and he had closed his eyes against what was going to happen next and the agony in his arm.

The next thing that truly registered with him had been the burning pain in his foot - had she set him on fire?

He hadn’t known - he had just screamed.

He had barely heard anything over the sound of his own pain and his agony had dulled most of his comprehension at the time, but he had vaguely heard her say “He needs to suffer.”

He tried to wrench his eyes open, but when he had she had already gone. Only the criminal clown was left in front of Jake.

Jake should have been afraid of this, but at the time the agony had mitigated any other emotion and numbed all common sense.

There had been a hand on his cheek then, breath on his face. He had snapped his eyes open in surprise at the touch, hoping she had returned to him. Instead his eyes had met bright blue ones and a terrifying grin.

“I heard everything.” Came the voice, quiet, smooth, by his ear, yet it had promised no comfort. “My doll wants you to suffer, “The voice had pondered, “But I’ve never been very patient.” It had admitted before he remembered a cracking from within his own head he was gone.