it can creep up inside you and consume you, a disease of the mind, it can control you- i feel like a monster

author's note: this chapter contains significant violence, death, and a mental breakdown.

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You and Sharkey took the left staircase, running down the hallway so fast your breaths became wheezes.

A nurse barreled out of a cell, her face the very picture of shock. Then, before you could do anything, she was leaping at you. You slammed into the ground so hard your teeth rattled. On instinct, you rolled over so she was under you, instead of on top. She hit you hard in the mouth, and you felt warm blood spill down your chin.

You scrambled for your gun- it had gone flying when you hit the ground, but it wasn't far away. You lunged and grabbed it, then pointed it wildly at the nurse, and bang-

Her body collapsed on top of you.

You shoved it away and scrambled to your feet. You were breathing hard and your head was spinning, but somewhere through the mania you felt someone's hand on your shoulder. You turned.

Joker was there, his harsh metal smile snapping you back into the moment. His hand became your anchor, holding you to the ground.

"Good," he praised, like he was congratulating a child on solving a simple problem. "C'mon, Y/N, I wanna show you something." And with that, he was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and steering you down the hallway.

He let himself into a tiny room at the end of the hall. Inside the badly lit room was an older man with white hair and grey stubble tied to a wooden chair. He was pleading with Fox, who was finishing strapping him in. Frost and Panda were there as well, with Frost leaning against the far wall. He was watching the proceedings with a detached air about him.

"Please," the doctor begged, "Don't do this, don't-" But he never finished his sentence, because Fox hit him hard across the face, and he shut up immediately.

"Good job, boys," Joker grinned wildly. He turned to the doctor. "What's your name, huh?"

"I-I'm Dr. Roberts," he stuttered.

"Dr. Roberts," Joker purred, walking behind him and sliding his pale fingers through the man's hair. He gave it an experimental yank, and the doctor whimpered. "Look right there," he said, crouching down so his mouth was right at the man's ear. He was pointing at you. "You see them?"

He nodded quickly.

"They're the newest member of my little group," Joker said. "And I wanna see what they're made of. Don't you do that with your new nurses, Doctor?"

The doctor had clearly caught on by now, because he nodded again, eyes panicked. You avoided meeting his eyes, watching Joker instead.

"That's why I need you here. I want to see what Y/N's going to do with you."

You barely stopped yourself from gaping. You should have known- breaking into Arkham Asylum and shooting a nurse was never the true test. This was.

Joker stood and walked over, standing almost uncomfortably close to you. He took his own gun out of his waistband, grabbed your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. He didn't look away from you the whole time.

"The floor is yours," he said, a smaller but no less ungodly smile on his red lips.

You didn't stop to look at Frost, just stepped around the Joker to stand before the doctor, gun in hand.

"Please," he whispered. You ignored him.

"Please don't," he begged again.

"Stop talking," you said through clenched teeth. To make sure he'd stay quiet, you pulled your hand back and slammed the butt of the gun into his jaw.

That only made it worse- he started crying again, slurring out nonsense words and tugging at his restraints. It made your skin crawl, like your body was too small to contain you. Your hands shook.

"I said shut up!" You shouted. You lashed out, punching him in the face once, twice, maybe a hundred times. You couldn't stop until he finally shut up. Your hands hurt like hell, but you barely felt the pain. All you noticed was his blood smeared on your knuckles, and his words ringing in your ears-

Please, don't.

Don't do this.

He was somehow still clinging to consciousness, and he hadn't looked away from you during the whole thing. You finally noticed that your cheeks were wet with your own tears. Why hadn't he stopped talking?

You stormed in closer, pulling at his hair the same way Joker had.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

And then, in a fit of crazed fear, you took Joker's gun and shot him in the chest. Once. Twice. Maybe a hundred times, the sounds of your sobs echoing off the walls until Frost grabbed you by the shoulders and hauled you away.