Author's note: I want to thank the people who are currently following this story. I know it has taken me a while to come back to this fic, but now that I'm back I'm here to stay. Reviews and criticism are always greatly appreciated, and love is the coal that makes this train roll! So review, review, review. Also, I will be putting up pictures that inspire the characters of this fanfiction in my profile, so go ahead and check that out if it so pleases you. Always nice to see a face behind the name, ammirite?
The Dark Knight and all its contents are the copyright of the Nolan Brothers and Warner Bros. I own nothing.
Tide
Chapter 3
"Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing." - Mark Twain
Joker sat up in bed, startled, gripping a knife closely to his heaving chest. He'd had that dream again. The one about falling.
He quickly looked around the room. In the first faint light of morning, he could see that nothing was amiss. Noah lay on his dingy cot with his mouth wide open, snoring loudly with his arms and legs sprawled and dangling over the sides, and Croc sat flush against the door with his chin resting firmly against his chest. Joker knew he was only half asleep; If there were an intruder, Croc would stab them to a wall by their neck before his eyes even opened.
Satisfied by his surroundings, he set his knife on the nightstand and laid back down with an audible sigh. He couldn't stop thinking about the dream he'd had. For Joker, it was, as some wise man had once said, Déjà vu all over again: He was up on the rooftop with Harley, and they were both looking over the edge of the building together. He griped her hand tightly in his own. After a few minutes of looking down at the city streets below, she slowly looked up at him with her haunting baby blues, her soft, pink mouth slightly parted as she stared up at him in complete awe. He was suddenly gripped with the insatiable urge to destroy her. Her perfection, her innocence, annoyed him. Her willingness to please and love him no matter what made his insides churn with disgust. So he let himself fall, his hand still gripping hers. If he were to fall, he would drag her down with him. He hoped to see her scared out of her mind, screaming until her throat bled, but instead she smiled peacefully, happy to follow him wherever he wanted -even death.
Before they hit the ground, he'd wake up. It was always the same.
The Joker groaned to himself, running his hand through his greasy hair before gripping a patch of it tightly. He had to get up. He was beginning to feel agitated.
He walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him in hopes that he'd wake Croc up in the process. He knew that Noah was a lost cause; not even a New York parade could wake him from a dead slumber.
He looked in the bathroom mirror, turning his head from side to side to assess the damage. His greasepaint sat in patches over his pale skin, the black around his eyes fading into grey smears against his cheeks. The red on his lips had rubbed off almost completely. He realized that he must have been tossing and turning in his sleep more than usual, and decided that he'd have to wash it off and start all over again. As he turned on the faucet in the sink, a weary thudding sound ensued before water gushed freely from the chrome pipe. He put his hands under it. The water was freezing cold, and shocked his overheated skin. Before he had time to think about how numbingly cold the water felt, he cupped his hands and quickly brought the water up to his face, scrubbing off his paint job as vigorously as he could. Once he'd scrubbed all the paint off, he looked into the mirror again just to make sure he'd gotten everything.
When he saw his naked skin, he had to keep himself from punching the mirror.
He didn't want to toot his own horn, but he used to be quite the looker before Sam Rizzo and his cronies got their hands on him. There was once a time when he could go to any bar and pick up any bitch he wanted, but now that Rizzo had left his mark, he could go to a bar and scare off any bitch he wanted. Sure, he still got laid, but only by mob whores who got off while fucking a man with power.
Oh, and he'd fuck them. They wouldn't walk right for a month once he'd had his way with them. The mobs he affiliated with always made a point to try and keep their women from his clutches, because once he brought one of them home, he'd send them back cut up and scared, never really the same after the trauma he'd caused them.
He never felt bad, of course. These women were just as bad as the mobsters who owned them; sluts with no regard for anyone but themselves. He loved hearing them scream.
Joker was finally grinning to himself, his mood heightened by his diseased thoughts as he began to reapply his make up, emerging from the bathroom once he had finished. As he predicted, Croc was wide awake and Noah was still dead to the world.
"Hey, Boss," Croc said, cracking his neck to relieve some stiffness. "You ready for the big move today?"
Joker grinned, grabbing his shirt off the floor. He slipped into it and began buttoning it up. "I've been ready for this day since we moved in," he replied, putting on his tie once he finished putting on his shirt, tightening the knot like a chokehold. "This place never really felt like...home. Too small and cozy, if you ask me."
Croc laughed in reply. "I hear ya, Boss. Living in a tiny house in a small, quiet neighborhood is enough to make me want to go on some sort of chaotic killing spree."
"Hm, should have thought of that. Sounds like fun!" Joker let out a loud cackle, jumped into his shoes and ran over to Noah, kicking him in the ass from the bottom of the cot. Noah shot up with a yelp.
"What the fuck, man," Noah groaned, rubbing his behind tenderly. "Couldn't you have found a less painful way to get me up?"
"I thought about giving you a great big smack on the lips, but I didn't want to smear my lipstick. You know how long I take to get ready in the morning, puddin', trying my hardest to please you with my good looks. So, I figured a nice swift kick in the ass would suffice." Joker grinned at him, holding his arms out before him as means of a peace offering. "We've got things to do and people to see, sugarplum. Up and at 'em!"
Joker walked over to the door, swiftly turning on his heel to face them one last time before leaving. "Tell Eddy to be here by noon. If he's late, tell him there will be no payments for this month and he'll have to figure a way to feed her on his own." At that he left them, slamming the door behind him as he went.
Noah and Croc stared at each other and shrugged. What else could they say?
Eddy stared at Harley's sleeping form from the chair next to her bed. The sunlight seeping through her blinds contrasted against her light blonde hair like a halo. He hadn't slept at all once he had finally soothed her to sleep, his thoughts racing over the events of that night.
Once he got to her apartment, he found her standing in the middle of the living room, completely inconsolable, her face red and blotchy from the fountain of tears that would not end. He held her for two hours before she finally fell asleep in his arms. Sure, the events that played out were bad enough, but that's not what kept him awake.
She said something that really got to him. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and her words played over and over in his mind.
"His eyes were just like his, Eddy. The clown. He had Jack's eyes."
She saw the Joker on the television last night after her dream. She wondered how she could have ever mistaken the Joker for Jack, even for an instant, and the guilt and disgust she felt about her pathetic thoughts ate away at her like a cancer.
"Jack is dead, Eddy, and he's never coming back. So is Tyler. Rizzo killed them. You found them -they were dead. So why can't I just let go?"
But Eddy knew the truth, and Harley could never know. Yes, Jack was dead, but not in the way Harley thought. The shell Jack left behind is alive and well, and is currently wreaking havoc on Gotham City.
Eddy leaned forward in the chair as he leaned against his elbows, his eyes never leaving her face. Christ, she looked so young. She hadn't changed a bit since the first day he met her. She was the epitome of innocence, a cherub-like beauty. She needed to be protected. A city like Gotham would chew her up in an instant if she wasn't. So instead of blindly following the Joker like Noah had, he chose to stay with Harley to protect her from men like the one Jack had become. He only worked for him in order to help Harley out financially, but otherwise, he kept his distance. He lived on his own, and did the Joker's bidding only when summoned.
Joker had no intention of ever seeing Harley again. Was it because he was afraid he'd feel again? Eddy didn't think he'd ever know for sure. He still gave Eddy work and pay, and he knew Eddy gave some of it to Harley. Did that mean that a small part of him still cared for this girl?
Eddy's thoughts were quickly interrupted by the vibration of his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. It was a text.
Speak of the devil.
"Meet us at the house. Be here at noon, or no dough. -Noah"
Eddy sighed and shoved his phone back in his pocket, taking out his wallet in its place. He pulled out some money and left it on Harley's nightstand before he got up and left.
A moving truck pulled up to the house at the same time Eddy pulled in. One of Joker's goons stepped out of the car, walking quickly into the house.
Better move fast, buddy, or else Joker might tell you how he got his scars, Eddy thought to himself and laughed. There was no mirth behind his laugh.
When Eddy walked inside the house, he found even more goons bustling about. They started grabbing packed boxes and furniture, moving so quickly that Eddy had a hard time keeping up mentally, almost bumping into one of the meatheads before the guy told him to watch it. The guy lifted a desk over his shoulder like it weighed nothing and walked out the front door with it, shooting Eddy one last look before leaving.
"Hello, sunshine. So glad you could make it."
Eddy turned around and saw the Joker standing behind him, a shit-eating grin spread wide across his crippled face. Eddy felt himself shift uncomfortably.
"What do you need me here for?" He asked, cautiously. "Looks like you have more than enough help. I'd probably just get in the way."
Joker let out a loud tisk, walking over to Eddy before patting him on the shoulder like a small boy who doesn't get the point. Eddy shrugged away from his hand, annoyed, and the Joker acted like he didn't notice as he continued.
"You, Eddy, are here for the fun," he said, grinning even wider. "We're going to burn this place down, and I want you to throw the match. You've been such a big help lately, I'm just trying to show you my, uh, appreciation."
Eddy scoffed loudly, and was pleased to see the Joker's grin quickly turn into a scowl. "I'm sorry, Joker, but I don't exactly get off on random acts of anarchy. I'm not like you. We used to be like brothers, Jack, similar in every way, but now-"
At the quick mention of his name, the Joker grabbed Eddy by his collar, pulling his face only inches from his own. "Jack is dead, Eddy. Don't mistake me for that snot-nosed kid. Need I remind you that I am the reason why you and that bitch aren't on the streets right now, scrounging to get by? Huh?"
Suddenly, Noah showed up and scrambled between the two, trying to pry the Joker away from Eddy. "Stay cool, for fuck's sake," he said, grabbing the Joker's arm. "What the hell is wrong with you two? Can't you guys stay in the same room for five minutes without trying to bite each other's heads off?"
Eddy shoved Noah away from him, his nostrils flaring as he pointed at the Joker. "Harley doesn't need help to get by anymore, clown. She's got a steady job at the hospital. I give her money on the sly so she can buy herself something nice every once in a while. Don't you dare for one second think that she still needs you in her fucking life. She's doing fine all on her own."
Joker let out a loud guffaw, throwing his head back in the process. Once he finally calmed down, he looked Eddy straight in the eye. "So then why are you still around, Eddy? Why do you still feel the need to protect the little princess?"
"Why don't you?" Eddy retorted.
Joker frowned. "If you want to get paid this month, you'll throw the match." At that he stormed upstairs, shoving away one of his cronies in the process. The goon let you a loud cry as he tumbled down the stairs, helpless against the Joker's wrath.
Noah watched him leave and shook his head. "Eddy, you get the Joker in one of these states and I'm the one who has to deal with him, not you."
"Why do you still stick by his side like a lost puppy? That man does no care about you. He's not Jack anymore."
"Because I know he's in there, somewhere," Noah said, looking down at his feet. "He needs me."
"Joker doesn't need anyone, Noah."
At that he tore his eyes away from his feet and glared up at Eddy. "You didn't see him when he escaped from Rizzo. He was a hot fucking mess, all cut up and bleeding like he was. He didn't speak for weeks. He just sat there, twitching, rocking himself back and forth. I had to force feed him, for Christ's sake!" Noah ran his hands through his hair, attempting to calm himself down. "Then one day he was gone, and all he left was a note."
"He left me the same note. He asked us to choose. It tooks me weeks, but I finally made my decision. I chose Harley."
Noah sighed heavily. "It was a good thing you did."
They both stood there in silence. Nothing more could be said.
Croc watched the Joker pace back and forth across the room, like somebody waiting for bad news.
"You alright, Boss?" Croc asked, curious as to what events transpired downstairs.
Joker stopped pacing and glared at him. "Some people are just so hard to please. You try to do right by someone and they shove it in your face. Little ingrates."
Croc shrugged. "I guess so, Boss."
Joker laughed. "You're always so poetic in you words, Croc. A real Shakespeare."
At that moment Noah burst through the door, throwing up his hands and grinning as he made his lavish entrance.
"The house is ready, Boss. Let's burn this motherfucker down."
Joker grinned and started to sashay out of the room, mimicking Noah's flamboyancy. "It's about time, boys. Where's Eddy? I hope he didn't forget about our little, uh, deal."
"He's outside, waiting."
Joker smirked knowingly. Of course he'd be out there, the greedy little bastard.
Before leaving, Joker, Noah and Croc kicked over the fuel drums that were strategically placed around the home, dancing around like maniacs all the while. Eddy could see them through the window, and felt a pang in his heart when he saw Noah acting just like the Joker. It was a case of Folie à deux, and at that moment he realized that Jack wasn't the only one he lost: Noah was gone as well.
By the time they emerged from the house, huffing and puffing in their deranged mirth, Joker pulled out a matchbox from his pocket and handed it to Eddy, bowing down to taunt him and he presented him the matches. "Your token of my appreciation, your majesty."
Eddy snatched the matches from him, and the Joker quickly got out of his way.
He felt his body begin to shake as he tried to compose himself. He needed the money.
"Come on, Eddy. We haven't got all day. Tick tock!"
At the Joker's sick mockery, Eddy shook himself to focus, lit the match, and threw it. Joker threw his head back and howled with laughter as the house quickly lit up, and Eddy slowly turned away from the burning house and walked to his car in a daze, his job done. He felt like he was outside of his body as he turned the keys in the ignition. What had he done? What had he become? Eddy didn't know if he was really any better than Noah. Jack, or what was left of Jack, was still a big part of his life. He was tied to him, whether he wanted to be or not.
Joker smirked as he saw Eddy drive away.
"Come on, Boss," Croc called from the moving truck. "We need to leave before the neighbors come out to see what the fuck is going on."
Before leaving, he pulled a picture from his pocket and unfolded it. A girl with blonde hair and a big smile looked up at him; a memory from long ago. Without hesitating, he threw it into the fire.