A/N: Hey Everyonee! This is just a oneshot with Joker and an OC. I have had this idea in my head for so long and i had to get it out. Sorry for any mistakes, but please review with what you think!(:
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to the Joker :/ wah.
But this had been a sin of passion, not of principle, nor even purpose.
-The Scarlet Letter
His hands were cold, numb, and lifeless. No jittery spasms of the expertly used muscles. No rhythmic drumming of his fingers against the plumb colored fabric of his slacks. They sat motionless, clasped together as he looked out across the barren cement pad that was his roof.
Nightfall had just descended, casting the already dark sky into even greater darkness: it seemed to fit the mood.
The clouds that clung to the sky like leeches seemed to dissipate as the sun vanished from the horizon, the bright light of the moon peaking out in dark contrast to the deep purples and blacks of the night sky. Its white light radiated only minutely, lost within the black hole that was Gotham City.
And yet, he relished in it all the same.
His thoughts raced. Images and words flashing through his mind at a speed too fast for any one in their right mind to understand. Of course he wasn't in his right mind, these rapid thoughts making perfect sense in his meticulously trained brain.
And while this was anything but new to him, the scenes that flashed through his head were not ones he cared very much to relive.
Smoke billowed up from the buildings, and he watched as they swirled in the air making sickly designs only he could pick out. Thick patches of smog littered the atmosphere, blanketing the city with harsh fumes, and repulsive smells.
But that was the Narrows for ya'.
Down below, police sirens wailed. People were screaming, and he was pretty sure some annoying brats were crying. But this time, he didn't care to look over the edge to the mayhem below. He wouldn't have found solace in the flashing red and blue lights that signified he had won.
Because truly, he hadn't.
So he sat there waiting, eyes closed and breathing even.
The sky was violet, sprinkled with the lingering remnants of blues and pinks as the sun rapidly disappeared from sight, escaping beneath the horizon. The air, although saturated with sweat and blood, smelled like home to her. She closed her eyes, letting the wind whisk her mind away as she found comfort in the feeling it left on her skin.
Her hands felt the coldest, still wet with blood. The same blood that was splashed against her clothed legs and torso, deep burgundy in color; but she didn't mind. The feeling remained the same.
She came up here to escape, to look down at the city that was at his command. Their command. The thought alone gave her goose bumps. Looking out upon the city, she envisioned it at her mercy. The tattered buildings, windows smashed and walls vandalized. The dirty streets and narrow alleyways; home to true scum, the likes of which she sneered at as she paraded around on his arm. The heart of the city, though, seemed just out of reach. The broken warehouses giving way to the intricately crafted skyscrapers off in the distance. The difference between the two were nearly tangible, as though an imaginary barrier kept the two from becoming one.
In her world, everything was picturesque; clouded with pixie dust and fairy tales. The things true dreams were made of. She lived her life in a blurred haze, her hopes and visions of unicorns and rainbows overshadowing the true essence of their existence.
She never did learn.
He lived in reality. The place that bent to his will and no one else's. He saw things for what they were, not what they would never become. And he knew that this wasn't how she viewed the world around them, but he let her pretend.
It was really only a matter of time.
The day had been long, that much was evident. His hands clutched at the glistening blade fastened in his right hand as he paced vigorously, his shoes smacking against the hard ground. She too held a sense of anxiety and anger at the unexpected twist in their plans; the change of events that led them here, to this spot, and not to where they had hoped to end up.
To say this was unusual would be quite an understatement.
The Joker seemingly always got his way, whether Gotham liked to admit it or not. If not in one way, then the other. Chaos always rang throughout the streets when he set out to do so. But not this time.
And he hated that.
Things had been running smoothly; the bombs set in place, fear blanketing the entire City as he held their precious Asylum hostage. The same asylum they had tried so hard to lock him into¾ albeit unsuccessfully¾ and now he was ready to see it crumbling to the ground, the deep red and orange flames eating up every brick, every needle, every nutcase.
He let loose an enraged giggle at the thought.
He didn't take into account the lovely Gotham Police Department showing up at exactly the wrong time. Or the fact that one of his guys told them to be there.
So he shot them all.
This, of course, forced him to make an exit a little less than suave, barreling through as many pathetic cops as he could, his bombs going off with less than a theatrical bang. Arkham Asylum was burning, but the flames were diluted by the water spewing from the spotless fire trucks, bring the show of flames to a quick end. People lined the streets; as many of the patients they were able to get out, the rest trapped inside. But this wasn't good enough.
As the car raced away, his eyes remained glued to the scene. And from the outside, all seemed well at the astute institution. The building stood high and proud, the only semblance of any minor catastrophe being the slight billowing of smoke curling lazily from its windows.
And now, standing up at the top of this building, looking out upon the city he deemed as his, he could only hold the anger and rage at his failure. A perfect idea, great in theory, crushed right in front of him. And all he got out of it was a split lip, sore muscles, and a bruised ego.
All in all, not a good night; with the last thing he needed being a whining, self entitled, princess hell bent on expressing her feelings.
And there she stood, starry eyed as she looked out at the city, as if anything about it was worth their time. But I guess he enjoyed this more than her babying him, fawning over his wounds as though he were on the verge of death. And believe me, he had had those experiences many times¾ this was not one of them.
Now, with all that pent up anger and frustration going nowhere, he needed to find the suitable object to let it loose on. And there she stood waiting and willing¾ although dangerously unaware.
She knew how wrong the night had gone, she was equally angry, but the Joker's raging emotions were the only thing she could concern herself with. She had tried, uselessly, to lift his spirits, but her attempts were thwarted each and every time. His dark eyes hardened as they drove away from the Asylum, mumbling unintelligible words under his breath in the midst of barking at her to shut her mouth. She complied, internalizing the frustration that was building just as strongly inside her, but for different reasons.
She loved him, oh god did she love him, but it was only a matter of time before she, too, snapped.
"What are you lookin' at sweetheart-uh.?" He mocked predatorily, untamed madness hiding just below the surface. She turned from the view, looking to him tiredly, yet prepared.
" The city. It looks so different at night." She said, her gaze wandering back to the grimy buildings, littered with trash and spray paint. He laughs eerily.
" It hasn't changed-uh. And you really shouldn't waste time hoping it will. You'll be, uh, sorely disappointed." He had sauntered closer to her, eyes transfixed on her form, watching her bouncy blonde curls blow in the wind, framed by the setting sun. She looked unreal, like a figment of her own imagination; a true character in her own little fairytale.
He rolled his tongue over his lips and scars, laughing at the irony.
With a roll of her eyes, and a frustrated sigh, she spoke, irritation lacing her tone. " Think what you want, but I'm up here for a reason; I find it relaxing. If you don't," She removed her arms from being crossed over her chest, moving to the side and pointing to the rusted staircase that led back into the building. " then you can walk right back down the stairs."
He cocked his head to the side, lifting an eyebrow in disbelief, but equally amused. He followed her pointing in an animated fashion, mocking the serious glare she had been trying to give him. It was a futile attempt on her part.
" Now why should I leave." He giggled manically. " It is, after all, my roof. Just like the rest of this city is, uh, mine." He had waltzed dangerously close to her at this point, eyeing her in the way that hitched her breath in her throat, and made her knees weak. Fear and passion flowed through her veins like poison, clouding her mind and impairing her judgment. And yet she clung to the anger inside, forcing herself not to give in, not to let him win. Not again. She had self control, and she was ready to use it.
" Could you cut the unnecessary arrogance for ten minutes, please. You don't have to be the only one on top every second of the day." Her voice held strong, keeping hidden the slight pleading in her tone. She was precise, playful, and almost taunting.
He gazed at her appraisingly, circling her petite frame as he mulled over his thought. It was times like these that really got his blood pumping and his excitement bubbling to the surface. She had been the only person, besides the bat, that could gauge this type of a reaction. Turning his previously incensed demeanor into one that was playful and amused.
As long as she didn't press her luck.
" Oh but I do, darling. Es-pec-ial-ly when it comes to you." He stood behind her, towering a good six inches taller, his fingers trailing cross her neck and collarbone as he removed himself, walking ahead of her, his back turned in nonchalance. " And last time I checked, you, uh, loved me being on top." He ended his spiel with a smack of his lips, accentuating the "p" with a pop.
His grin, highlighted by the garish red lipstick, grew even wider at her fierce expression.
" All you care about are your jokes, huh? As though everybody's feelings mean nothing to you-" Her rant was cut off by one of his own.
" Oh god, don't you dare go on about your mamby pamby feelings, again! That's all you every cry about. Did it every cross your mind that I just-ah don't care? That all that matters to me is how useful you are to me, and nothing more? Hmm?" Eerie giggles erupted throughout his speech, each drawing a more hurt and enraged response from the trembling blonde standing feet in front of him.
This was not how the night should have gone, and maybe, if she had just kept her big mouth shut, she wouldn't be on the verge of tears. Then again, what else could she have expected? Playing with fire and all that nonsense was bound to get her nowhere good.
And still, she secretly hoped he didn't mean a single thing he was saying.
But as hurt as she felt, she swallowed the lump growing in her throat, blinking back the stinging tears that were threatening to spill down her eyes and over her flushed cheeks, and squared her shoulders, hoping to gain the same satisfaction she knew he had.
" Just because you're incapable of feeling anything, doesn't give you any right to say things like that. It's not my fault you're so screwed up, so stop throwing all the blame on me." A smug smile appeared on her lips as his eyes narrowed, knowing she hit a nerve. And she had.
The Joker's mind was racing once more, the amusement still there at all this fire she had raging inside of her, but quickly giving way to darker, scarier emotions.
" Ya' know," His lips smacked together, the blade digging even harder into his right hand as he clutched it tighter, but both hands theatrically waved in the air, " I think the, uh, real problem here is that you think in that, heh, bubblegum brain of yours, that all your feelings mean something. As though-ah you hope to change me. Hate to break it to ya' baby cakes but you're just not that important. Just another nobody-ah in this delusional world."
She was aware of how dangerously close she was treading, the ice getting thinner and thinner beneath her feet the more harsh words spewed from her mouth, but in this moment, she didn't care. In this moment, this brief second, her brain snapped.
" Oh I get it. Because I'm not a freak I don't matter. I have to be a disfigured outcast like you to have any say, any importance. I don't want to change you, never did. Because what else could you really be? Honestly, all you're ever going to be is a deranged killer clown. All alone. My bad, but I guess it's still me with the problem, am I right? Pathetic."
That ever-present smirk was effectively wiped off his face in that instant, his eyes darkening to hard black stones. She smiled, flipped her hair in a cocky manner, and stepped back, noting the dark gleam in his eyes.
With his knife still in hand, he lunged at her, pressing the knife against the soft skin of her neck, his other gloved hand tangled in her curly locks. "I'm a freak, hmm? Crazy, disfigured, outcast as you so aptly put, correct? Well, maybe you could benefit from some disfigurations of your own-ah."
She squirmed in his grasp, pushing against his arms, and scratching at any available flesh until her body went limp, standing lifeless in his arms as the blade fell inside her mouth, prying her lips apart.
" Go right ahead. It won't change a thing. You'll still hate yourself, you'll still be alone. You think, because everyone knows who you are, that that can fill the emptiness inside of you. Maybe you matter now, but you aren't immortal. Sooner or later, you're gonna' fade away. Just like me. And maybe then, you'll finally be freed of the monster you created."
Her green eyes gazed into his brown ones steadily, waiting for him to make his final move. This dance they had been following, tempo changing in rapid succession, was always bound to come to an end. It was just a matter of when, and they had kept it going longer than anyone could have ever imagined.
Everything was silent, the sounds of the bustling city fading away as the two locked eyes. His head turned slightly, tongue running along lips audibly, as he let loose a soft giggle, his hand roaming from her hair, to trace down her face. Her eyes fluttered closed momentarily, and in that instant, the Joker's hand grabbed her shoulders forcefully, and pushed her back roughly.
He turned with a growl, running a gloved hand through his greased, green curls, completely unaware of the series of events unfolding behind him.
She was momentarily stunned as she felt the pressure of his hands against her shoulders, her eyes snapping open to see him turning around. She felt too defeated to get angry. The push was powerful, but she was able to stay on her feet, backing up precariously to keep her balance.
She placed her feet firmly, holding her ground as he turned, his eyes still shining with malicious intent. Instinctually, she backed from his murderous gaze.
What she had failed to notice, was just how close she was to the edge of the roof, the foot high wall separating the cement pad with the long drop not enough to stop anyone as clumsy as she. The back of her boot caught on the edge of the wall, and she let out a terrified screech as her balance was lost completely. Her back swayed backwards, her feet no longer touching solid ground as her hair caught around her face, disrupting her vision. She reached out to grab onto something, anything, hoping to keep herself from the twenty story fall she was about to endure. Her nails scratched along the hard pavement, cracking and ripping from her fingers, her fingers themselves scraped and bloodied hoping to grasp onto anything in her path.
She felt the edge disappear from her touch as a strong arm took hold of her hand, bringing her to a sudden stop hovering in the air. Tears streaked her face at this point, her throat dry from screaming as her hair finally tamed and she looked up to see the painted face of the Joker, visibly strained from holding onto her arm.
Grabbing onto his clothed arm with her free hand, she prayed, with all her might, that he would save her.
His teeth dug into his tongue as he held onto her swaying form, sweat collecting on his palms as he thought of what might happen if she just slipped from his grasp. That thought alone made him grab on tighter, bruising her skin.
"Sh, sh, sh, I got you, don't worry." He tried to sooth as her cries got louder. Planting his feet firmly, he tried hoisting her back onto solid ground, but his feet slid against the cement, and he found himself beginning to lose balance. He growled in frustration.
Simultaneously, the hand she used to clutch at his shirt slipped off slowly, and she swung out, forced to look down at the ground below. Terror washed over her like an unrelenting wave. His other hand shot out, grabbing at the free hand and holding it in his vice like grip. She looked up at him through tears, as the blood on her hands lift prints along his flesh.
" I'm so sorry." She whispered softly, as he again tried to pull her back to him. Hearing her words, he stopped, looking into her eyes and shaking his head.
" Don't be."
She smiled lightly, looking up to his torn expression as he tried frivolously to save her. Their hands began slipping, millimeter by millimeter, until the only parts left clinging were their tired fingers.
She blinked back the tears, looking up to his face one last time, capturing it like a picture in her mind to store in her brain. This wasn't how she had pictured it ending, but it was who she had pictured it ending with. But god she wished these tears would just stop. And why wasn't he smiling? He's always smiling. She just wished he'd smile.
" Smile." She pleaded, their fingers burning from pain as the raw skin disappeared, her body beginning to fall at blazing speeds.
" NO!" He yelled, as he watched her soar down the side of the building, her beautiful blonde hair being the most pronounced as it danced wildly in the air. He closed his eyes roughly, turning from the side and sitting against the stone wall, but he still heard the sickening crunch as the body met the pavement. He kept his eyes closed, willing the stinging in his eyes and the ringing in his head to just stop.
The screams were next, the cries for help.
But for the first time in a very long time, he wished they'd disappear.
When he finally willed his eye to open, he couldn't let himself see her body splayed across the pavement, her blood matted in her hair. He couldn't let himself see anything except the monotonous pavement in front of him. Gray and barren.
Up above, the sky was dark, little droplets of rain beginning to fall from the sky.
She always did love it when it rained.
And as the seconds turned to minutes, sirens coming and going, the rain only got heavier. The paint that was so haphazardly caked onto his face was sliding off in colorful trails. And after a while, he wasn't sure if it was from the wetness raining down from above, or from the trails escaping his eyes. Something, so foreign to him.
But as the hours ticked on, his body still sitting lifelessly on a roof in the middle of the Narrows, he knew one thing that would always remain the same, even if everything else didn't.
He'd never stop smiling.
A/N: Did you guys enjoy that? If you did, please review(: I also have an idea for this. Either i can keep it a oneshot, or i can make it a series of little stories in their life? Maybe? Lol i dont know, but review and let me know what you think.
Adieu.
TheJoker'sGotMyHeart
