The clown prince of crime, the only man on earth who managed to turn a wide smile into the symbol of fear. And yet, not even he was smiling tonight.
The rain hit the ground around him as his body leaned numbly against an old ventilation system somewhere on top of the rooftop he had crawled onto in despair. He couldn't be with his thugs, he couldn't be around anyone with that feeling of deep, hollowing emptiness. Something had carved him out, replaced his eternal mania with nagging sorrow, he wasn't even sure he was real anymore.
It's been like this for as long as he could remember, high highs and low lows, one day he'd laugh his throat hoarse, go on a delightful killing spree that he felt joy in every fibre in his body, the next he was curled up in his hideout, unable to shut the voices in his head, yelling at them to stop while burying his head between his knees, too afraid to see what was lurking within the dark that kept surrounding him.
Those thoughts always left eventually, fell silent after he encountered his greatest enemy, after he found an innocent bureaucrat to torment, after the most sadistic opportunities would've revealed themselves to him, though this time things didn't seem to go that way.
For weeks he'd been fighting himself, feeling sick at the view of his own reflection, banging his head against his mirror that Harley screamed at the view of his forehead torn bloody, shards poking out from underneath his pale, dead skin.That did make him laugh a little, her reaction, the way it made him feel sick how much blood he watched leave his body that he found a reason to not eat that day. Sometimes he wouldn't eat for days, shake uncontrollably as those dark thoughts got a hold of his mind, it was one of those times when he overheard his thugs whisper about him, his condition, his mental health. He'd have been bemused by their opinion he was usually sane if their words hadn't rung so painfully true.
It was like a dark veil had been wrapped around his head, forcing him to see the world only in its darkest shades, like his mind wanted him to be unhappy. He walked earth like a ghost, watching time pass by with him stuck, being constantly tired, too feeble to move on. Even with Harley dancing around him, he couldn't get rid of that loneliness within himself, tearing at his heart, making him notice the lump in his throat bringing him close to crying and he didn't know why.
He never needed anyone and nobody ever wanted to need him, not even his sidekick. To him, she wasn't even really there, her laughter never reached his ears, her smile never beamed through the grey filter of his lenses. He sensed as though she'd be happy once he was gone, would redesign the brutes the minute she'd get the news tonight.
With a light sniff he gazed upon Gotham and knew nobody would miss him.
There it was again, that shaking of his bones, quaking of his veins, blood curdling with dread. He felt so weak and out of control, he shouldn't be here, he shouldn't feel like this.
But here he was, burying his head between his knees, muffling a loud cry that echoed as laughter across the rooftop, though died off by its edge. He was alone, nobody heard him cry up here. He was as lonely as he felt.Accepting defeat, he decided to not fight it anymore and closed his eyes to capture one last, peaceful moment with himself, despite that disgust he felt for the entirety of his existence, hoping liberating himself would make him whole again.
With a forced smile he allowed the rain to wash all of his makeup off his face, showing the bare agony beneath that pretentious facade. There'd be no use in pretending to be alright now anyways.
Except for the fierce rustling of the storm raging above him, it was dead quiet, so quiet, Joker almost heard his thoughts return to his mind, approach his delusional thoughts once more to taint them with reality. His head sacked back, hitting the metal behind him, he knew he couldn't fight it. Neither did he feel how the metal carved along his scalp, he never did.
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Remembering's Dangerous - Joker/Batjokes
FanfictionIt was one lonely night that Joker found himself drowning in a storm of despair that wouldn't allow him to let go of the knife to his wrist. Only faintly he took note of the shadow from above as he joined his in agony screaming nemesis on an abandon...