hell fire • joker + bruce wayne ✔️

before

STEPHANIE CARMICHAEL HATED HER FATHER.

Mrs. Miller, her elderly neighbor, always said that hate was too strong of a word to describe "the only man a girl can trust" but as ten year old Stephanie watched her father spit in a man's face while not-so-subtly showing the gun stashed in his waistband on their supposed daddy-daughter night out, she couldn't help but feel white frusteration flash through her tiny body.

He pinky promised. He promised he wouldn't be like this.

However, even at that age, she was already quite aware that her father regularly broke his promises.

She was also aware that he was an "asshole", something her mother used to shout when she was actually around.

"Sir, we can't let you back in unless you have the tickets."

"Ha!" He chortled, clapping his hands and looking around as if to comment on the man's audacity. "Listen here, buddy. I said we already bought them."

Lie.

"We came outside 'cuz my little girl needed to go piss."

Lie.

"Now, we come back and you won't let us in. Look at her," He pointed to Stephanie. "You're makin' her cry."

Stephanie frowned. Another lie.
Daddy just didn't want to pay.

"Steph," Her father said, patting her caramel head hard. "Why don't you go sit over there and look at the flowers or somethin'."

Stephanie shrugged.

"Good girl," He said, turning back to face the ticket booth staff. "Daddy's gotta set this young man straight."

"Sir we have a policy that states—"

"Policy be damned!"

Their argument slowly faded away as Stephanie made her way to a bench. She was jumping from tile to tile, chosing only the white ones and squealing and she landed on the red ones. In her mind, they were pools of hot lava and she had to avoid them at all costs.

Stephanie reached the bench in her last jump but realized she wasn't alone.

The first thing she saw was purple shoes. Next, a green bow tie. Then, red balloon pants and a red smile on a chubby oval face.

"Hi," The boy decked in clown clothes said.

"Hi. Can I sit?" She pointed to the space next to him with a bright grin.

"Sure. Why not?"

She settled herself comfortably on the bench, pulling her pink hello-kitty sweater tighter as a gust of wind almost threatened to steal it.

Stephanie looked the boy up and down. He was a bit older than her (although he couldn't be that much older with that Mickey Mouse watch) with windswept brown hair and deep brown eyes.

"Why are you dressed up?" Stephanie blurted out. Her curiosity had always gotten the best of her. Sometimes it warranted a pinch from Daddy, but she stilled couldn't suppress the feeling no matter what.

The boy didn't seem to mind that much as he replied, "I work here."

"You work here?" Stephanie repeated loudly. "That must be so cool!"

"S'alright."

"Do you get to see the showmaster? Do you get to ride the elephants and feed the lions?"

He shook his head and changed the subject. "So what's your deal?"

"That's my daddy," Stephanie answered, pointing to her father who had his gun out and was shoving it at the trembling ticket guy. "Sorry, he said he wouldn't make a scheme."

"Scene," He corrected immediately. His serious gaze fell to her arm. "What's that?"

"Oh." Stephanie rubbed the long white scar. "My mommy gave it to me."

When she saw his eyes widen, she quickly interjected, "But she didn't mean it! It's a joke."

She smiled at him toothily. "My mommy's a joker."

He frowned as if contemplating his next move. Suddenly, the boy pulled his sleeve up and showed Stefanie a similar scar.

"Guess my dad was a joker too."

Stephanie giggled and put her arms next to his. "Well would you look at that! In Mrs. Miller's books, we could be soulmates!"

It was true. Stephanie's elderly neighbor and some-time baby sitter was always spouting nonsense like that. Stephanie half-believed them. Her father hated it when she told him.
Bullshït, he'd growl. What's that old hag putting in your head?

The boy didn't comment.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Stephanie! Get over here!" called her father. He stashed the gun back in his pocket and waved her over. "Come say thank you to this sonuvabitch."

The young girl hopped off the bench.

"My name's Jay."

Stephanie smiled. "Well...bye, Jay."
With that, she turned around and skipped back to her father at the tent opening, her interaction with Jay already at the back of her mind.

"See you later, Steph." The boy mumbled, never taking his eyes off her retreating figure.