Legends of Tomorrow One Shots

Mick Rory and the Joker

There weren't many things in the world that could scare Mick Rory. The thought of losing his partner in crime. Getting stuck in a place he couldn't light fires. But clowns....clowns were the worst.

The phobia had started, when he was just sixteen. It had been a few months, since he'd set the fire that had killed his family. Mick was fresh out of juvie, and he was being forced to stay with a despicable foster family in Gotham City.

The family was busy being a bunch of ass hats, ignoring him and pretending he didn't exist. He knew they were only using him for money. They got paid to let him sleep under their roof. They didn't really care about the delinquent boy. So, Mick had decided to run away. He didn't need these people.

The plan was to sneak out at night, when everyone was fast asleep. Of course, Mick had never been that great with formulating plans that actually worked.

He was making his way down the street, the street lights flickering every now and again. In the alleyways, shadows were seemingly flicking back and forth, as if something was lurking in the darkness. Waiting for him to get close enough.

Keeping his eyes forward, Mick decided it would be best to stay as far away from the alley openings as possible. He could hold his own, until he got to a bus station or something. Maybe he could steal a ticket or something and make his way back to Central City, find the Snarts, and...something.

Mick spotted a figure a few feet ahead. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked to be a tall lanky man. He wasn't walking. He was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk, laughing hysterically. Mick couldn't help the shudder that ran down his spine, as he heard the laugh. It was loud. Insane. What was this guy even laughing at, anyway?

Mick continued walking, not sure what else to do. In the months he'd spent in juvie he'd dealt with some ruthless, hardcore kids who wouldn't have hesitated to slit your throat if given the chance. Those guys didn't even make Mick flinch, but this guy...he was unnerving.
Suddenly, Mick wished he hadn't ignored Leonard's warnings about the high crime rates in Gotham. He had thought that after a few months in juvie he'd be prepared for any real world crime he might face.... He was wrong.
As Mick drew closer to the man, he could see he had wild green hair, wide eyes, and a white face with red lipstick smeared across his lips and cheeks, painting a permanent smile on his face. Literally.

He was a fucking clown.

The man kept laughing, as Mick kept walking. He didn't appear to notice the teenage pyromaniac, so Mick thought he was in the clear. He kept walking, hoping to pass by without any trouble. Let the weirdo enjoy his insanity. As long as he didn't bother him.
Of course, that was too much to ask for.
The man reached out, just as Mick was about to pass, grabbing the teen around the waist.
In spite of himself, Mick let out a startled yelp. This, for whatever reason, made the man cackle even louder. As if this were nothing more than a fun board game. Mick struggled against the weirdo's hold, but the clown held on tightly.

Mick's mind went blank, his heart rate picking up significantly. He vaguely remembered being told what to do, if any one tried kidnapping him...but the memory was fuzzy. Besides, he hadn't really been listening, anyway. He never thought it would actually happen. Mostly people deemed it stupid to mess with him, even adults.

Some kind of internal instinct took over. Mick started kicking, as the clown - still cackling - lifted him into the air and began dragging him back down the sidewalk. He may have let out a few indignant cries of terror, but it was hard to recall the events after they'd taken place.
Mick didn't know what else to do, so he just let his body take over, kicking and even throwing a few punches.

The clown still hadn't stopped laughing. That was the most unnerving part. That laugh. What the hell was so funny?

Mick managed to kick the man's shin, momentarily making him stop his cackling and hiss in pain. But then, he resumed his laughter, as if he actually enjoyed the pain. And it was then that Mick knew for sure. This man, this clown, was completely insane. There was no rhyme or reason for his actions. He was simply doing it because he could. Because, evidently, he thought it was hilarious.

Mick growled in annoyance. He didn't like it when people toyed with him. Mick threw his elbow back, as best he could whilst the stupid clowns arms wrapped around him.

He felt his elbow come in contact with something, maybe the clown's gut. The next thing he knew, the crazy clown had loosened his grip on Mick enough that he could run away. And, even though it went against every fiber of his being, Mick bolted, running as fast as his feet would allow. He ran, until his legs ached, until his lungs felt as if they'd cave in from exhaustion. The clown's laughter rang in his ears the whole way. He couldn't tell if it was because the cackling was just that loud, or if it was because the clown was behind him. But he didn't stop to find out.

Afterwards, when he was trying to recall the events, Mick thought he reminded a shadowy bat figure jumping down to the street from on top of a roof... But of course, that wasn't possible was it? A person would break their ankles, if they didn't die first. It was probably just his imagination over acting in the heat of the moment.... But still. It was weird.
Mick never told anyone about that night, not even Leonard. He'd never admit it out loud, but that was the whole reason he was terrified of clowns.