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“Please hold on, sugar,” Harley whispered, frantically trying to stop the bleeding from the large bullet wound on his chest.
“Harles,” Joker croaked, wincing as he tried sitting up, reaching for her. He ignored her protesting when he tried.
“Lay back, sugar, don’t hurt yourself,” she sobbed out, the tears pouring down her face at this point.
“You’re so fucking beautiful when you cry, Harles,” he said, cupping her cheek tenderly. “My beautiful psycho.”
“Sugar, it’s bad,” she said, looking at the blood covering them both. “Does it hurt, baby?”
“Pretty bad, and not in a good way,” the Joker said with a low groan.
“I’m gonna kill them,” Harley promised. “I’ll run the streets red with their blood.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, given her a grin. “Slaughter them all, Harles.”
“I will, puddin’,” Harley vowed firmly “Make them fuckin’ regret shooting you.”
He loved that crazed look in her eyes. “My avenging angel.”
“I love you, puddin’, you know that, right?” Harley sniffled.
“I know, Harley, I love you too,” he murmured.
“Baby, you’re getting pale,” Harley whispered. “Don’t go.”
“See me on the other side, love?”
“Soon,” Harley vowed. “Love you, puddin’.”
He finally closed his eyes.
The end was here.
No more suffering.
Sweet peace.
Finally.