Arthur Fleck Archive, 2019

A Very Real And Precious Thing

Summary: In which Arthur finally gets shown the smallest act of kindness by his new therapist and falls head over heels in love. Requested and inspired by @valentina15. I changed it a bit, but it's still the general outline of what you sent!No warnings, at least not as far as I'm aware of except for smut. Fluffy fluff.Length: 8,596The most beautiful elements in life are not wholly seen or understood. Arthur was one. "It's not gonna work, Ma." "Well, I don't care. You're out of control, and you need help, Happy."Penny had found Arthur's gun by the bedside table. He could have sworn he left it underneath the bed where he usually did; its usual hiding place.And yet, here he was, being scolded by his mom like a teenager. She had sternly sat him down on the bed, shortly after she had screamed to the top of her lungs at the sight of it.She was so dramatic, Arthur grumbled inwardly. Even though he knew in the back if his mind that her anger was somewhat justified, he still felt frustrated. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was unfair for him to have go through all this just because he was found with a gun-the hospital had deemed it unsafe for him to own one considering his 'unstable condition', as they called it. Arthur found the whole thing ridiculous-he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never harm anyone, at least not unprovoked. He didn't want to hurt others because of his depression-he only wanted to hurt himself. To hurt himself would be the happiest of endings. To die would be the happiest of endings.Speaking of the word happy."Happy, you're not supposed to have a gun," she scolded with that look in her eyes. She was sat up in her master bed, two thickly fluffy pillows layered on top of the other. Half of her body was buried underneath the sheets. Her night gown, which she wore more often than anything else-of course she did, she never left the damn apartment-was clinging onto her small frame. Her worn, wrinkled face which drooped with age was now graced in disappointment as well. Her blue eyes had that hard look in them that Arthur knew all too well-but always did she look at Arthur hard. If not hard, distant. Like most of the world, she seemed to look right through Arthur, as if he wasn't there at all, or, even worse, as if he was there, but was merely a nuisance that needed to be dealt with so better things in life could be attended to. It didn't matter what it was. As long as it didn't concern Arthur, it was better. Occasionally she would offer him a kind word, or a brief conversation-that was all. Unless she was talking about her own interests, of course.Arthur sighed heavily and scratched his arms. "I promise I didn't meant to hurt anyone, Ma. Randall gave it to me as a gift, and I wasn't going to refuse his gift." He looked up at her through fragile chestnut brows, knowing that what he was saying wasn't a great defense-but at least it was one at all. Truth was, he didn't even know why he had kept the gun. He did know that holding it made him feel some kind of unspoken power, some control that he had never experienced in his life until he had held the cold, shiny metal in his calloused hand, the cold hardness of it greeting him like a friend-the closest thing he had ever had to one.Penny gave him her sternest head tilt. "Randall? Randall's not your friend, Happy. He must know about your metal condition, especially since you took that leave from work when you were in the hospital. If he was your friend, he wouldn't have put you, and therefore me, in danger."Arthur's seagreen eyes rolled inwardly. He knew that Penny didn't give a damn about what happened to him, not really. What she was mostly worried about, what was much more likely, was her own safety, and getting into trouble with the cops. Having to deal with charges, more expenses for Arthur being locked up again. Penny was a woman who liked to think of herself as someone worthy of great respect and of high regard-in some ways, Arthur was convinced that she felt she deserved to be treated like she was some figure of high authority. She disliked, no, loathed, having to deal with anything that related to Arthur's mental health, anything to do with him that might get her and her delusional sense of reputation in trouble. That one of the countless reasons why Arthur felt like a burden to the only person in his life who even remotely resembled love-she saw him more as a sick lion in a cage that needed to be locked and kept hidden from the world, like a chore that needed attending, rather than a son who needed the concept that was almost alien to Arthur now; love."You need help again, Happy. I already called the Gotham Department of Health. You have a session in three days."Arthur had given up on making eye contact with her, and instead chose to stare at the threads coming out of the wool blanket that lied on the bed. He had quit therapy a couple of months ago; the bills had raised within the past few months before and Arthur had had to pick up extra shifts at his side jobs in order to keep him and his mother afloat. After a few weeks of desperately trying to get himself to pull though therapy and jobs alike, as well as taking care of his mother, he eventually cracked under pressure. He hadn't wanted to quit therapy; Arthur was the kind of man to fight for his mental health-he was highly self aware of his illnesses, and he knew he needed help. He did...miss his therapy sessions, to an extent, but like hell if he missed the way his therapist treated him. It wasn't even the way they talked to him. By all technical accounts, they did their job. They asked all the right questions, they said what they were supposed to. As a matter of fact, that was all they did. Every week was the same. Arthur would think over and over all the thoughts he had in his head a few hours before his sessions, sometimes even days before his sessions. When he had first started, he used to write it all down as best and was able, and, despite all the misspellings and the crossed out words- overall, as cringy and as messy as it looked to Arthur, it made him glow that he was finally at least attempting to help himself. He remembered his first therapy session as clear as day; he had come in with his small but heartfelt journal in his hands, and had sat down excitedly-almost like a child finally being given medicine for their cold. He had answered every question the therapist granted him with all of his inner most thoughts pouring out of him, almost breathless as he finished his paragraphs full of all of his inner most thoughts and torment. At first he felt exhilarated, relieved. Finally he had someone to talk to about all of his thoughts; this almost seemed to good to be true. As it turned out, it was.The therapist he was given last time-Dr.Kane, was so professional almost to a fault, to the point that she came cross as lazy and indifferent. Her expression and gaze constantly had a glazed over, stagnant expression, no matter what he said or did. She looked at Arthur through an unimpressed, judgemental gaze; although her words were kind and caring, there was something about the way she looked at him-god forbid if he had a laughing attack, which only solidified her expression-that made Arthur cringe within himself. He didn't feel safe with her, not within the slightest. As the conversations went on, he began to find that most of what he said fell on death ears. He would say something different every week-a different revelation, a different thought or perspective. Always they were negative, but always were they different; and anyone who knew Arthur would know that this was a reflection of Arthur trying his absolute best to keep simply keep going, that simple and small act that came so easily to others proving incredibly difficult for the troubled soul of Arthur. Though he couldn't quite pull himself out of the darkness, not even close, he was trying, every single day. And how exhausted he was for putting in effort that always came back and slammed him in his face with the unapologetically sheer, unimpressed indifference of his therapist's face. He was carrying boulders, using all of his strength to keep them uplifted, and, rather than being congratulated, or at least being greeted with even an attempt at being understood, he was met with a stationary, hard look and repetitive questions-questions that she was no doubt asking only so she could keep her job. If Arthur poured out his soul, he would get a dry statement of "keep up with your journal" in response, which would be led by some shuffling of thin, dull paper, and then, after a few more blank statements, another flat, just as equally indifferent "see you next week". Before Arthur knew it, he was pushed out the door, feeling more empty and worse than when he had walked in. Arthur knew particularly what the problem was; it wasn't entirely Dr.Kane's fault. He didn't want a doctor. What he wanted, more than anything was a friend. A real, true friend, someone who listened to him simply because they cared about him and loved him. Not for gain, a paycheck, no ulterior motive. Speaking his thoughts out aloud made him feel good in the moment-until he looked up and saw who he was talking to-an indifferent, expressionless, and uncaring face that was sitting there simply because she needed to live. Just like him. Arthur could read people well, and he recognized himself in her tired demeanor. She was just as miserable and as worn as he was, and sometimes Arthur almost wanted to ask her how she was doing-such was his innocent nature. Arthur come across as a fool to many, but it was only the sweetness of his essence pouring out of him and into a world where sweetness was few and far between.Arthur had always found it quite scary that one could never wholly know another's thoughts-everyone was simply hidden in their dark worlds and secret motivations. It was because of this gradual realization that he stopped trusting her, and, therefore, stopped confiding in her, even on a superficial level. As the conversations went on, they had become more skeletal, more superficial, until there was almost an equal amount of apathy between Arthur and his therapist. Being the broken, ever vulnerable soul that Arthur was, he still wore his heart on his sleeve occasionally, an almost funny comparison between him and his therapist-even in apathy was Arthur still almost tragically vulnerable, sweet, and open about his emotions. But he tried to put the reigns on his soul, tried to pull himself back, to act 'normal', to act the way his therapist acted, the way so many other people acted. Soulless, tired, but mostly-humorless. Arthur laughed at everything, and even towards the ends of his sessions did he find himself chuckling and smiling to himself at things that were, as most people would tell him- 'weren't funny'. Similarly, sometimes he would still go off on tangents about his observances about the world, but always would he regret it when he was answered with that same indifferent gaze, shame winning over him simply for feeling, an concept he had been taught by being a citizen of Gotham. To feel was a sin; to feel was to be a fool.He knew he wouldn't find a friend in a therapist, he mused darkly as he kissed his mom on the head goodnight, dropping the subject by simply telling her "I'll be there" in a low raspy voice as he turned off her light.But maybe, perhaps, it would be different this time, Arthur dared to think. It had been awhile; surely they would have had different therapists by now. As Arthur sat down on the thin, worn couch, his back already aching in agony as it dreaded over the long night of lying on it to come, Arthur felt a small smile grace his handsome features as a simple word came to his mind:Hope.——Three days later, Arthur found himself in the same overcrowded, cluttered spaces of the Gotham Health Department. The secretary who had greeted him was the same one from all those months ago-stagnant, unfeeling, bleak eyed, and passionless. There were stacks upon stacks of papers on her desk, so much to the point that her name tag was unreadable. There were flies gracing the thick, polluted air, and, best of all, flies curiously studying unidentifiable sticky substances on the walls.Arthur sat by the greeting desk, cigarette in hand. He letting out a sigh full of smoke as he mused in his dark broodings."How have you been, Ms. Curt?" Arthur had asked politely as he had walked in. The greeting lady had told him to "just take a seat right there, honey," without looking up as soon as he had walked in, showing absolutely no signs that she used to see him a couple of times a week, treating him as if he was a stranger. Now Arthur was sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, already feeling like this had been a mistake.After about ten, long and unforgiving minutes had gone by, Ms.Curt lifted her head up. "The new therapist just emailed me. She's ready to see you now." Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Ms.Curt," he said in the same polite tone, despite his pensive mood. He got up and began making his way into the office. She made no response, still not even bothering to look up.He opened the door, which creaked dully as he made his way in. He looked curiously around the space; unlike the welcoming room of the building, this office didn't have the same overcrowded, claustrophobic feeling as the other one had. The window was open, letting in a forgiving, soft, and gentle breeze. Even more noticeable; there was a beautiful, fairly young woman sitting in the chair, who was currently intensely scribbling something on a piece of paper, not seeming to have noticed that Arthur walked in-not in the slightest was it surprising that she didn't acknowledge him. No one did.Arthur cleared his throat. "Um, ma'am?" he began, trying not to cringe at the way his voice broke. Your head snapped up, and you instantly began to blush a deep shade of red. "Oh-oh, I'm sorry," you stammered. "I didn't realize-here. Take a seat. My apologies-I've been cleaning up the place a bit. I only moved in a few days ago-not that that's something you need to worry about."Arthur tried his best to fight off a laughing attack, both from how awkward and nervous he felt, but also how...kind you were-and how unexpected this all was. The place just felt....clean. And you looked so...unexpectedly sweet. You were by far the most attractive woman he had ever seen in his life; but it wasn't your face that was beautiful, it was something about your energy, about your very essence that was drawing him in. With a silent renewed hope, he sat down in the chair, suddenly feeling shy about his cigarette. With Dr.Kane he had hardly cared; she didn't pay attention to anything he did anyway. But he was already gathering an entirely different energy from you; you were really looking at him, not only seeing him with some sort of respect in your eyes, but were also seeing into him with some sort of gleam of excitement in your eyes, almost as if you were going to find it pleasurable to talk to him. All of those concepts were foreign to him."Arthur, is it?" you asked as you studied the files you had on him on the desk. Arthur nodded. "Yes, ma'am." You looked up and smiled. "Hi, Arthur. My name is Y/N." You lent out a hand for him to shake; Arthur stared at it for a moment, and then shook it with some disbelief; you had already showed more amiability and kindness to him than everyone at his work and home life combined. "H-Hi, Y/N," Arthur stammered, and then inwardly slapped himself at being so awkward. But your friendly demeanor didn't falter. "So this is your second time returning?" you asked gently. "How does it feel?"Arthur shrugged, and tried his best to overcome the scars from his previous sessions. Just open up, Arthur urged himself. "It's strange," Arthur admitted. "I didn't like it here very much by the time I left."You took in what he said, no judgement in your eyes, no matter how much he searched them. "And why is that?"Arthur let out a small a sigh. "It's just no one...listened to me, is all."To Arthur's surprise, you let out a small chuckle. "Well, that's not a surprise. This department isn't much of step up from the rest of the apathetic city of Gotham, is it?" Arthur only nodded, shock taking over his core that you weren't just asking the same mundane questions; you were reallylistening and making conversation with him. He tired to ignore the hardness that was coming in between his legs; he was so damn easy to get hard, and you were filling up every checkbox on his list, which consisted of very simple elements; kind, and easy to talk to."That's actually why I wanted to start working here. I've always had this urge to help people, you know?"Arthur looked as if you if you were a ghost. "Really?" You nodded. "Really. As a matter of fact, you're my first patent, and I can already tell that it's going to be a pleasure talking with you, Arthur." You winkled playfully.Arthur's face instantly turned a deep shade of red, and his eyes looked down at his lap. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight as his cock hardened. His knee began bouncing; he rubbed his left arm up and down, up and down.You panicked slightly, recognizing the sighs of his nervousness instantly."Oh no, Arthur," you cooed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to feel comfortable." You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling awkward. "Forgive me. I have a...playful personality. If I ever say anything that makes you uncomfortable, you let me know right away, ok?"Although Arthur kept looking down, although he looked like a complete blushing wreck, on the inside he couldn't remember the last time he felt this alive. The smallest sliver of compassion you had shown him had already awakened him through his whole core; he felt truly happy in a way he hadn't felt in ages. He could feel his blood rushing, the cobwebs in his head falling as the wheels in his head started turning again. And, well, his cock was hard. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a real boner-the porn he collected just wasn't doing it for him anymore. He adored how kind you were being to him; he didn't even want sex, it was just his whole body was coming alive with how much you were making him feel-and not making him feel bad about it."I-It's fine, Y/N," Arthur said softly. "Really. I actually....I really love this. Thank you. You're so kind." Arthur then dared to moved his blue green eyes up to meet yours. You gave him one of your warmest smiles."I think we're going to get along quite well, Arthur."——The next few weeks were full of nothing but meetings full of genuine conversation and compassionate understanding. Even when Arthur wasn't in the office talking to you, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. He found he began to care about going to therapy again-really care, the same way he used to before blunt and indifferent words dampened his spirit and his will to open up.Your sessions were playful but thoughtful, and always did the two of you end up laughing through the majority of them. But you were always sure to give Arthur tips on how to help him process through his dark and bad emotions. As time went on, Arthur began to feel more clear headed, and a little more secure in his own head. His dark thoughts and feelings never went away, and he was still the same shy, tormented man with the same battles, but with your weekly sessions did he feel himself begin to heal, even if only slightly. What really made Arthur start to feel different, though, was simply how kind you were to him. Your eyes lit up when he entered the room; you would smile, truly smile, and your face would beam as if you were actually happy to see him-Arthur tried to ignore the voice in his head that told him that you were just trying to keep your job. No matter what, Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing this because you genuinely enjoyed every moment as much as he did-he was always too scared to ask if it was the case; rather; he simply tried to enjoy every moment for what it was-insightful, simple, sweet, and, what Arthur loved best of all-fun. There were times when Arthur forgot that talking with you was meant to be more professional and business oriented-your conversations swept together so naturally, and almost seemed too enjoyable to be anything other than something you both willingly chose to do together. Almost as if you were...friends. Or maybe something more. Despite himself, Arthur could feel himself falling in love with you. With every session did he leave with sparks of infatuation in his mind, and that beautiful, indescribable and floating feeling stayed with him throughout the week until he got to see you again. He would fall asleep thinking about you, would wake thinking about you; when he finally got to see the real you, you seemed so unreal, so natural and glowing, that Arthur couldn't bring himself to believe that you were real at times-he was so taken aback simply by how stunning you were, how you almost seemed to have this otherworldly glow to you.It was about your sixth session in when the dam in Arthur's brain finally broke.It was just a statement. One simple, seemingly simple and innocent statement. Looking back, Arthur reflected, it really wasn't any different from the other kind of things you had told him throughout your sessions together. But there had been something about the way you said it-there was something in your eyes as the words left your pretty lips. Arthur had been bouncing his leg slightly-despite how safe he felt with you, his anxiety still got the best of him when he said some of his dark thoughts out loud. Arthur had even gone so far in this session to talk about how he felt people looked at him like he was a bad man-and, in many ways, he felt he deserved to feel that way. He had, after all, done bad things in this life-he put children in danger by bringing a loaded gun to the hospital. He had considered breaking into his neighbor Sophie's apartment a few times just to feel the warmth of the apartment-of her child drawings, of the innocent and sweet toys that graced the tables, of Gigi's sweet laughter and happy innocent energy that Arthur had been robbed of. To just be in that space of a good mother protecting and caring for her child would have helped him immensely. You listened to all of his inner most thoughts without interruption-quietly and respectfully taking it all in."I just feel-" Arthur stopped, and shook his head slightly. He had just finished tell you a particularly dark thought of his-something about how he felt like nothing he did truly mattered, like he was just another awkward nobody mucking through life, unseen and unknown, not mattering to anyone or anybody. "Like nothing I am or ever will be matters. And that I even...deserve to feel this way." He let out a sigh of smoke; he had learned quickly that you didn't mind the cigarettes. "I'm not even worthy of love," he finally finished with another heavy, deep sigh. And there it was; his deepest of insecurities out in the open.He was looking down as he spoke the words; the conversation had taken a dark turn of energy, an unusual thing between your sessions. But something felt different today. Arthur felt more tired, more solemn, more serious today; more musing and thoughtful, a little less giggly and childlike than he usually was around you. You had picked up on his heavier, more serious mood soon as he entered the room; ever the intuitive, emotionally perceptive person. You also couldn't deny that you felt connected to Arthur in a way that was almost indescribable.Arthur was anticipating what you would say from across the desk; it now seemed unnaturally large, looming between the two of you, as if to physically symbolize the separation that was coming between you now. You watched as Arthur looked down as he rasped out the words, clearly weighed down just by speaking them. Arthur felt embarrassed, and, for the first time since speaking with you, he felt the slightest tinge of insecurity prickle at his skin as silence drew out at the statement. Arthur didn't dare look until you spoke. The next words you spoke were the kindest and most unexpected he had ever heard from you yet."It seems to me, Arthur, that you are an incredibly precious man locked within a cruel and uncaring world. And your pain echoes so deeply inside of you because you have so much love to give, but very little people to return what you so deserve." Arthur's green eyes flickered up through his thick brows. There was a certain shock to them as he looked into yours. For a moment he wondered if you would break out into laughter-as if the very idea of him deserving kindness was a joke to you, much like it was to everyone else. Arthur felt his own unbidden cackles begin to itch at his throat, the torment in him beginning to rise to the surface. He let out a small hum of a cackle, and then, worst of all, panic began to ebb inside of him, which only resulted in more bubbling laughter. He quickly turned sideways away from your gaze and began to shove his face into his elbow, cackling now a full blown attack that took him over through shuddering waves. Worry, and a little something more, ebb in your chest at seeing him in such pain over something as simple as kind words. You got up and rushed over to him. "Hey, hey Arthur, it's ok," you hushed gently. You rubbed his back up and down, back and forth, helping him through his waves of unwelcome tearing laughter. Arthur didn't take his face out of his arm, however, and instead kept bellowing into it, ashamed at you seeing him like this. Despite everything he shared with you, there was still yet parts of him that you hadn't wholly seen in their entirety. After a few minutes, the tormented cackles began to die down, until Arthur was finally able to ease his elbow off of his mouth. He then simply sat there, a sad, frowned look on his face as your hands continued to trail up and down his back."There, there," you cooed gently."I'm sorry," Arthur choked as one last tormented chuckle left his mouth. "I have a-""Condition," you finished softly. "I know, Arthur. I have it in your files."Files. The words teased and mocked Arthur's brain, triggering his insecurities about your feelings for him. Right, so you weren't doing this because you cared about him-not really, anyway. No, you were just doing this because you needed that paycheck. The gentle, easing hand that was gracing Arthur's back and sending tingles up his spine with delirious pleasure and desire weren't there because you loved him-on the contrary, they were there because you were obligated to. Right?"Ma'am," Arthur said softly, the words spoken so gently and tenderly that they almost came out as a whisper. "Can I ask you a question?"You nodded. "Anything, Arthur."Arthur swallowed, preparing himself for the leap he was about to make. "Do you....care about me?"Your hand stopped. You looked at him with an unreadable expression; Arthur felt he could fall through the floor in utter shame right there and then. How dare he make you uncomfortable with his pathetic attempts at looking for love. He felt the back his neck sweep in a heat, breaking out into a sweat."Arthur," you began slowly; the sudden professional air of your voice made Arthur's heart break; gone was your gentle words and sweet cooing you had given him a minute ago. "I do care about you."Arthur sat there in silence for a moment, trying to decode the real meaning of your words. "But only as a patient." Arthur spoke the words as a statement, knowing he didn't need you to confirm them. Until now, his eyes had been looking at the ground; now he dared to lift his eyes up and stare into yours. You had that same kind face, but there was a strained, uncomfortable look about it now."Yes, Arthur," you said in that same heartbreakingly professional tone. "As a patient."Arthur nodded and swallowed thickly, and, despite how hard he tried to fight it, he felt tears begin to sting at his eyes. He looked away from you, staring at the desk instead. He could already feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks; he bit his lips in self loathing; he hated how he wore his heart on his sleeve, whether he wanted to or not."Ma'am, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go," Arthur just barley managed to choke out, feeling humiliated at how his emotions were ebbing out of his every word. What had become a symbol of a safe space was now the same as everything else; full of humiliation and rejection. "Arthur-" He got up and wiped his tears with his elbow, grabbing his journal that was on the desk, and rushed out of the room. You simply stood there, looking after him, shock and sadness radiating through you.Arthur rushed out of the building, not bothering to answer the abrupt desk lady's question of "Are you checking out, sir?" She pretended she didn't know him anyway.He was so incapable of being loved, truly, genuinely loved. He would inevitably latch on to anyone who gave him even the slightest amount of confidence, of a sense of acceptance and love. He couldn't get help, because the only way he could get help was through love; verifiable, bare love. Something he would never be able to obtain.Arthur's ride home went by in a blur, and when he got home he started hitting himself, over and over, first by his hand and then on the wall as his anger at himself increased.Fucking idiot.Another hit against the wall.Stupid.Hit.Bang.So fucking naive.There was a dent in the wall by the time the night was over.—-You has seen Arthur in his worst moments, had listened to his deepest and darkest thoughts. You had also seen his silly, sweet, and funny side, his strange side and his quirky side. You had seen, in short, all of him, or, at least, a fairly large portion of his soul. You knew him. It was funny how one falls in love only when they see the unconventional, most deepest parts of another one's soul. Weeks had passed since your last appointment. You had gotten a call from Penny's mother, who told you, in a rather tired, indifferent voice, "your patient Arthur has decided to cut all meetings from you from now on." You had wanted so desperately to inquire and push further, but, for the sake of being professional, you had simply said, "Thank you, Ms.Fleck," and had hung up the phone.You were now sitting in your empty, hauntingly isolated apartment. Truth was, you thought about Arthur all the time since that day. You thought about how much he had made you laugh-and, in turn how much you had made him laugh, his gentle smile, seemingly all the more precious because it was breaking through such a tormented, heavy face that would shine brighter than the sun if only given the right amount of love. You thought about how you yourself had looked forward to your meetings far more than you other clients-far more than was considered appropriate. The truth was, you had fallen in love with Arthur the moment you had seen him. The way his very essence screamed out a handsome, gentle spirited essence through his quiet but striking demeanor, the way that everything about him from his bare skin, to his clothes, to the soul that honed it all made him so striking and downright beautiful. But most of all-rare. He was so worn, both in body and spirit, but it was a beautiful, poetic sort of worn warmth; the kind that only made you want him, to truly know him, the more time you spent with him.You sighed, and forced yourself to get up from the couch you were sitting on. You had been so taken aback by the things he had told you the last time he had seen you. There were multiple emotions conflicting within you that day; shock, happiness, discomfort. There had been so many that you had been at a lost for words; falling in love Arthur had all happened so quickly. It had only been the sixth time that you had seen him, and already he was asking if you cared for him. 'Cared' was a concept as rare and as precious as gold when it came to living in Gotham, and although you had never admitted it to Arthur, you were just as deprived of it as he was, and, even more unknown to Arthur, you were so desperate to give it to him, even if it meant looking highly unprofessional.With a surge of newfound determination, you picked yourself up. You were going to find Arthur. You were have a proper talk with him. You needed to have a proper conclusion to the whirlwind of unexpected intimacy that your relationship had been, if you could even call it that. Whatever it had been, it deserved a proper ending. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door.Within about an hour you found yourself in front of his door. He had told you the apartment complex where he lived during one of your sessions; information about Arthur's life leaked out of him as easy as anything, so comfortable did he feel with you. Naive it was, maybe, but his information was safe with you. Despite you attempting to show and feel confidence, your hands were sweaty and shaking; what would he think of you being here? You swallowed thickly, and then closed your eyes, and, with a trembling first, knocked on the door."Happy!" You heard a muffled voice through the doorway; the walls were rather thin. "Can you get the door?"There was a few moments of silence after that. The door clicked, and then-There was Arthur, as handsome and as gentle looking as always. His blank look of curiosity melted into complicated emotion as he realized it was you. He was staring at you like you were going to strike him down at any moment. Fear was in his eyes, as well as, you dared yourself to believe, a little bit of happiness."Ma'am?" Arthur said softly. He rubbed his face, as if to double check that you were really here."What are you doing here?"You sighed. "Arthur, may I come in? I want to talk to you about...how things ended." You felt like such a fool saying the words, but you had to let him know how you really felt-or, at the very least, let the relationship end without feeling so humiliated, without Arthur being so hurt. Arthur didn't move. He swallowed, and looked at you with the same pain from that last time he had seen you starting to form in his eyes. "Y/N, did you feel....sorry for me? Is that why you've been so nice to me?" Arthur could already feel his rage sweeping into him before you even answered; though he missed you, he had been licking the wounds of rejection for some time now.Your heart clenched. It was starting to dawn on you just how much you had truly hurt this man who clearly already held so much pain inside of him. "Arthur...no. That's not it at all." You grabbed the sides of your sweater as you fumbled with your clothes, trying to pretend like you had some dignity. Words began to bumble out of your mouth like bees leaving hive, rushed and coming out one after the other, whether you liked it or not. "I actually really do care for you, Arthur. I was just...this sounds so stupid, but I was just so scared. I have a job, and who knows what they would think if I started dating one of my patients. Not that you asked to date me, but it was implied, kind of. I think. And you're so wonderful, Arthur, I would never want you to fe-""Do you mean that?" Arthur asked eagerly. He looked as excited and as tender as puppy, anger vanishing; quick to forgive and so ready to love was Arthur Fleck. This was becoming clear as day to you now.You nodded eagerly. You felt like you were finally coming undone in the best way, no longer hiding your true emotions for the sake of being professional, and it felt so damn good. "Yes, Arthur. Every word." You breathed out the words rather than spoke them.To your surprise, Arthur thrusted himself forward and took your face in his hands. You were taken aback for a moment, but then you pushed your hands into his hair, gripping it passionately. Arthur lifted you up and stole you with a breathless whisper from that bleak, uncaring hallway and into his intimate apartment, shutting the door behind him. Arthur lied you down on the couch and began to pepper your face with kisses, from your cheek down to your neck, caressing and kneeing your shoulders with his comforting, knobby fingers. You let out a moan of desire, wanting him to fully take you, but-"Isn't your mom home, Arthur?" you asked through a breathless lust. Arthur's green pools looked into yours and nodded mischievously, putting a finger to his lips. You nodded in understanding, laughing quietly to yourself, and allowed your lips to crash against his once more. You lolled your head back as Arthur began to pepper his lips down your thighs, letting out small rasps of his own lust as he did so. Your legs spread apart in desire; you were already so wetbetween your legs. Arthur nibbled and bit your legs as he trailed up and down, up and down, until finally his lips came back to your folds. You were wearing a tight skirt that was currently restricting your legs from being able to fully spread the way they wanted to. Arthur looked up at you, curious."Ma'am-""Arthur, please. It's Y/N.""Y-Y/N, do you mind if I-""Please, Arthur," you begged. "Please take me." Now that you were feeling his gentle caressing, his sweet touch against your starved skin, you couldn't believe you had denied yourself to him for this long. Arthur eagerly began to undo the button on the top of your skirt, threw it aside, and then went down on your folds with his tongue, You let out a moan as the combination of infatuation and utter pleasure of the physical touch of the person you now realized you loved-not just cared for-loved, lapped down at your folds, as gentle and as considerate as the lips that allowed the soft soul that possessed them to speak. Pleasurable waves rolled in and out from you, in and out. You rolled your hips up and down to add to the pleasure, to keep friction between your bodies fresh. Arthur's hands were gripping your sides, just as full as lust and love as every fiber of your being currently was. You tried your best to muffle your moans of pleasure as Arthur's tongue lapped up your folds.Arthur then eased up and crashed his lips back onto yours, and you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself."You taste as every bit as good as you look," Arthur murmured as wet lips overlapped wet lips, and you let out a moan of ecstasy as you tugged at his beautiful ocean curls. "A-Arthur," you stammered. "Are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure you want to date your therapist?"Arthur looked into your eyes, pulling his lips away from you. He seemed to be reading something inside of your for a moment as he did so, leaving you even more breathless. He then spoke, his voice fragile and uncertain, not because of his love for you, but for how you would receive it. "I am certain that you are everything I've ever wanted and more."You let out a gasp of relief and lovestruck heat, and nodded in agreement, sweat breaking at how much you were overwhelmed by your love for this one man, all of it crashing onto you at once as you finally expressed it openly, no longer resisting."I feel the very same way, Arthur," you gasped.Arthur let out the smallest of smirks from the corner of his mouth. The inner cat and dog game of who would confess first was finally over, and now you were all his, his and his alone. Arthur looked into your eyes as he stroked a loose strands out of your face. He looked you over one last time, and then asked in the gentlest voice, one that you knew he would use for you for the rest of your days, if you allowed him to-"May I walk you home?"You nodded, your legs still trembling with how overcome with desire they were, the tender relief from having his tongue pleasure your folds having melted them to trembling anticipatory straws of weakness. "Yes, Arthur," you said softly. "I would love that."Arthur smiled a full fledged smile then, and that crooked tooth that made you weak in the knees shined in celebration. He leaned forward and dared to kiss you one last time; you rewarded his behavior by gripping his lips into yours with fierce determination. Arthur chuckled at how hungry you were for his kisses; joy and relief overflooding his own heart that you felt the same. Incredibly precious,incredibly real-such was the love you had finally found within each other. Arthur wasn't asking you for a tremendous, grandiose dedication of love. He was hanging by a thin bare thread in life, a twisted and thin rope hanging over fire that threatened to break at any given moment, should the cruel scissors of the world come and break him open. He didn't need you to promise to stay with him forever-although something told you he wouldn't mind. He simply needed your warm hand in his, on his side, to be there for him when he couldn't be there for himself. He need a hand to reach for when he found himself at his utter most breaking point-and like light in the darkness had you come and declared your love for him at the perfect time.It was raining outside, the sky thrashing with passion as much as the inner most romantics between the two of that were coming alive fully. The grey skies of Gotham used to remind you of forgotten dreams; now it reminded you of thing that could yet still be, if one had the courage to go after it. The rain pelted both your faces and hair, and seemed to be, in a funny way, congratulating you both with wet, cold kisses of happiness that you you both had found the other.Your whole life you felt you had been looking for Arthur, exploring for something you didn't know was there. Within him was all the secrets you didn't know you had been looking for; secrets of love and hope beyond what the world of Gotham in its entirety had yet to show you. Arthur was full of secrets, but you could tell that many of them were the tenderest of secrets-the secrets of how to love deeply, how to give even when the world didn't give in turn. You had a feeling he was the kind of man who you could return to no matter where you went in life; no matter where you explored, you would always want to return home to him.Home. He was home.Arthur saw things as art; and an art you were. He saw the music that he adored to dance to in your laugh, in your eyes, Even just to look at them made him want to dance. He realized, as his face was dripping wet with rain, serious with revelation, that he was in love with you already far more than even he could have deemed.So dance he did. He took his arms and began to dance into a waltz, his arms flying in the most graceful manner. He bowed towards you, and you felt your own soul being sparked alive by the desire to join his quirky waltz, so brave and breathtaking of a free spirit that he was in that moment. As you allowed yourself to be swept into his arms, the pelting rain soaking both of you into a slick mess, the heat of your infatuation mixed in with the cold of the rain making you dizzy, the love radiating from his arms around your waist, you realized that you were both falling just as deeply in love at the same time. The less he laughed those tormented cackles, the more he danced. Dancing was healing for him; how your heart soared that he was dancing for you now, amongst the wet of the rain. It was heartrendingly beautiful.You found so much comfort in his presence, and you knew you would cling onto every spoken tender word he would ever show you. His smile would grant you every comfort and every safety. At last, Arthur had found someone who understood him, and he had discovered you and had dug at your own stiff mask until you had realized that you needed someone like him who understood you just as deeply as he did you.. He was so kind, despite his damage, his insecurities, his self loathing, and you knew you would never find a man quite so strong or precious every again. You longed to help him, to set him free from his torment, and so you would, until even your soul burnt out; you no longer heeded your own spiritual safety as long as you were tied within his. You knew you had known him the second he had seen you; like there was an echo in the empty, indefinable spaces if the universe that had clicked together when his eyes had met yours. Awkward and fumbling, the two of you had felt though darkness of uncertainty and disbelief underneath the casual conversations, until finally you had found the other, even through the world's scorning and disbelief that two people could be so wonderfully perfect for the other. Like leaves off of a tree did your own disbelief that such love existed fall away from you, until there was nothing left but raw, true love, the one and only thing that made life worth living. As you gazed into his eyes, you saw that Arthur was love, and he was going to envelope you in everything he had until you felt the same way about yourself. As you inwardly looked towards the future, you would carry the love you both had for the both of you within each other and use it to navigate every challenge towards life.Arthur saw truth within you; sheer, roaring and rare truth, and he loved you all the deeper for it. You set a fire in his bones, a fire to fight for himself in a way that he had never had the urge to until now. He had been a half moon surrounded by clouds with little will to live; now he was a full moon without the clouds blurring his vision. Never would he take you, your strength your truth, your wisdom, your ability to make him laugh for granted. Your laugh, he found, was the entrance to the beauty that you were on the inside; that addicting sound that he loved so much was only the tail of the iceberg to all the feelings you were going to make him feel in this love you were both plunging head first into. His heart was chaos, and it was the perfect storm that would take the chaos that existed in your life without him away. You knew Arthur well throughout his heartfelt sessions, and you knew it would be bittersweet to love him. The ruins of time had worn through every crevice of his soul and skin alike, making everything good about him layered in insecurity and pain. Like clouds suffocating the blue skies had Gotham been corrupting him, but good he still was. Your company would surely keep the storm at bay. Maybe it would be perilous to love him, but you found yourself only wanting to take the plunge"I think," you said thoughtfully as you gently gripped Arthur's went brown locks in your hands, his green eyes sinking into yours as he looked at you like you were everything he could ever want, and everything he would ever need, "It will be quite an honor to love you, Arthur." You would love him for as long as he would allow you to, for however long he needed you to. You would hold off the cold winters in the chambers of his broken heart until spring came again. If it never did, you would love him just the same. Arthur let out a shy smile, rain dripping from his lips. Every so gently he rasped-"We are going to have peculiar time together."You laughed, and it struck you then that Arthur's very energy was beautiful; just as you found him beautiful by his core, by that indescribable essence that can't be quiet defined by worldly terms, Arthur felt very much the same about you. And it shined the most through your laugh. How he would adore hearing that laugh forever and a day. You found Arthur physically beautiful, but it was his energy that took your breath away, You brought your lips to his, rain pelting through the heated skin upon skin."I wouldn't have it any other way."-------------------