Would it really be better? Joker stares off at some piece of air, not really seeing what's in front of him. Would airing out all that bloody, dirty laundry really make her happier? Would it make things alright between them? Ginko's right. It does sound counter-intuitive. But maybe...

After a long moment of miserable thought, he stirs, and continues to not look back at Ginko. "When we were lil' uns... Nobody wanted us. Not even our own families. We were miserable nearly our whole childhoods, because we didn't have neither roof or food. We woulda starved ta death, eventually. Got sick, maybe, and died that way." He takes a shaky breath, feeling hollow and fragile. "When we were taken in... Even when things started gettin' dark, and he started askin' me ta do.. the worst bleedin' things... I just wanted ta make sure they could be happy. Healthy. That meant not sayin' anythin', at least what they didn't already know because we all had ta go along with it." Another breath, and his eyes are starting to ache.

Against his better wishes, his own thoughts, Joker looks back to Ginko again with his face crumple up. "Jus' wanted 'em ta be happy," he says, voice cracking. Feathers coos quietly.