"I'm not serious Dakota, I just think before I do things, and don't get broken noses or concussions."
Category: Batman Character/s: Joker Genre: Friendship/ Hurt & Comfort
A/N: Ahem, hello there strangers. This is my first Batman fic, I usually write Avengers Fanfiction but my brain has been forcing me to read Batman fanfiction instead. But I can't complain, it's awesome.
So yeah anyway, The Joker is probably the only Batman character I actually like so Tada - I've written a Joker Fic. Please read and review, no flames please, I can't be bothered with all of that. Constructive criticism is welcomed.
Enjoy :3
Chapter 1
Ever tried to get to sleep with your parents arguing in the room next to yours aswell as your neighbours across from your apartment fighting, at one in the morning? It's hard, but when it happens nearly everynight you learn to just live with it. Dakota, at the young age of sixteen, fully accepts that she'll have to deal with this problem until she moves out. Her two older brothers moved out as soon as they were seventeen, leaving her alone.
But she was always alone so it didn't bother her. Dakota didn't get how her parents are still together. They're at eachother's throats all the time, threatening eachother constantly. Why couldn't one of them just leave? Life would be so much easier.
Dakota sneaked out of her room and walked into the living/kitchen area. She lived in a one floor apartment in a block of crappy apartments in the Narrows. She had lived there all her life, she didn't know anything better. She sprawled out onto the lumpy cigarette smelling couch and turned the television on.
Her dad walked straight past her and opened the door. "Bye dad, don't get too drunk." Her father glared and left. Minutes later her mother walked in, cigarette in mouth. "Babe go get me a vodka." Her mum dropped into the armchair. "You've got legs, get it yourself." She was rewarded with a cushion thrown at her face. Dakota got up and searched the cupboards.
"Mom we're all out of Vodka."
"Then go and get some."
Dakota walked back to her room and threw her jeans, hoodie and trainers on before leaving the house to get her mom her drink. There was a liquor shop across the road from the apartment, the owner was good friends with her mom.
"Kody darling what can I get you." The fat, greasy owner asked. "The usual Paul." She said leaning against the counter. "Here you go sweetheart." Paul passed her a bag with two bottles in it. She dropped the money on the counter before leaving.
"Thanks."
As she made her way upstairs she heard what sounded like a crying child. Walking up a few more stairs she found a little blonde girl crying on the step. She approached the blonde slowly. "Are you lost kid?" The girl stopped crying and looked up at the brunette teen talking to her. "No." Dakota rolled her eyes. "Why are you crying?"
"Mommy and daddy keep fighting!"
"What's your name?" The girl sniffed. "Molly." "Do you live at number 35?" The girl nodded. Great, this crying child lived across from her. "Right, get up I'm taking you back." Molly pouted before opening her arms out. "Pick up." Dakota gave the girl a piggy back ride the rest of the way until they reached her door. Dakota knocked on it, glancing down at Molly who had wrapped her arms around Dakota's leg.
The door opened revealing a tall boy with dark brown eyes and curly dark blonde hair, he was probably a few years older than her. "Is this yours?" She asked placing her hand on Molly's head. "Yeah..." His voice was deep but was soft. "I found her crying on the stairs, keep an eye on her." He nodded and held out his hand for Molly, the girl latched herself onto his leg.
Dakota over to the door opposite Molly's and opened it. Silence welcomed her, she eyed a note on the fridge door.
'Gone out with girls, do what you want - mom'
She scrunched the paper up and threw it in the bin before putting her mother's desired drink into the cupboard. "Need a smoke, need a smoooke." She said in a sing song voice while dropping her hoodie onto the chair. Dakota didn't drink that much but she smoked like chimney, she blamed her mother for that.
Once she found her cigarettes she lit one and sprawled out on the sofa.
A typical Friday night for Dakota.