When he wakes up, it's in his own bed in his apartment in Boston. Meaning, his vacation ended sooner for him than expected and his other side took over. At this realization, Joe groans, throwing his hand over his eyes for a moment. Until he remembers. His eyes. His eyes that aren't his anymore, that turned green on vacation and he silently hopes that maybe, just maybe, they've gone back to the blue they used to be. That maybe his eyes turning green was a signal of the shift starting to happen, and nothing more.

When he finally makes it out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom, looking into the mirror tells him that his theory isn't true. That his eyes are just as brilliantly green as they were before, and Joe, in frustration, swipes his hand across the counter of the bathroom and everything goes crashing to the ground. He starts to scream, he starts to yell, because this isn't fair. None of this is fair. Why is it that he can come into his life and just destroy everything that he's worked so hard to build? Who decided that he could be controlled by an asshole who thinks he's invincible?

He doesn't need that last question answered, because he knows that the man literally is invincible, and it makes everything worse. He's read enough to know the horrors that the man has accomplished, and he doesn't want to be a part of it. He doesn't remember what happened in the Bahamas at first, but as he looks through his apartment, checking for the usual traps that are left for him, parts of it comes back in waves. He runs to the computer to read the news and there it is, clear as day. Fifty dead and Joe knows the cause, and he screams out in anger.

Enough. Enough is enough and it has to end. It has to end. There's only one way. He won't let this psychopath take over his life. He won't let him destroy everything. So, he'll do the one thing he can do. The thing he contemplated in Florida, that he was too scared to go through with. Today, he'll go through with it.

But he starts with punching all the mirrors in the house, disgusted with the vision he sees, his face with his eyes and the memories of what the man has done before, mixed with the memories of what the man has done now, and does it even matter that Joe was trying to find a balance in his life and trying to find a way that he could be happy for once in his fucking life? It's all just going to get destroyed in the end. As the last mirror in his bedroom is smashed into pieces on the ground. he picks up the biggest shard of glass, and he takes a deep breath. He slices it down his wrist, and watches as his skin slices open, blood trickling out.

But then he also watches as the blood stops, the skin heals itself closed and within five minutes it's as if the cut was never there. As if he never attempted to take his own life, to put Joker out of commission once and for all. Because he's apparently fucking immortal now, just as he is, and it doesn't matter anymore. He has no upper hand against the other side of him. Joe cuts small cuts on his arms now, just to watch the cut disappear almost immediately. He doesn't want to look for the scars he's had for years, some with memories behind them (falling off a bike, a car accident in his twenties) because he almost worries that those have healed and disappeared as well.

He collapses to the bedroom floor, his back against the wall and just stares out into the room for what seems like hours. Then, he slowly starts to pick up all the pieces of broken glass around the apartment. He throws out the frames. He makes a note that he has to replace all of them, because he just gave himself a lot of bad luck breaking all those mirrors.

The thought makes him laugh, because he's already had bad luck. Just when things felt as though they were getting better, just when he felt he had a handle on things, he suddenly didn't anymore. Just when he thought he might be able to come to terms, to be happy, to be a little free...

...now he only feels even more lost than before. One step forward, two steps back. Or, in his case, fifty.