Melted Gold

Ginger

The chill of winter settled deeply over Gotham, a blanket of snow covered the city, silencing it with muffled peace. People were hesitant to step outside as the wind picked up and danced the snow down near empty streets. There was a tension that could be felt and as the days got darker, people sat in apprehension in their cozy homes. The news of Barbra Gordon had spread like a bush fire during a drought. The city was mourning the injured, and while reporters swarmed the police station to try and get some kind of word from the Commissioner about his daughter, a shadow lay freezing in a broken bed blaming himself.

Joker could still smell the blood in his clothes that lay forgotten on the floor. He lay bare in bed, angry red marks littered his arms, legs and chest with tears still staining his porcelain face. He was tired but couldn't sleep. He could still hear the gunshot in the back of his head, smell the powder in the air and feel the scream that broke his heart.

He curled tighter around himself, feeling the draft coming in from the windows, the cold seeping deep into his very being. Maybe he could just let himself freeze there, he was still human after all, right? Someone else could look after Harish, someone else with more power than him, more know how, more brute strength. He wasn't the hero type, he wasn't Batman, he couldn't keep pretending he was something he wasn't.

"He's not the Hero Gotham needs right now"

Robin's words echoed in his head and he covered his ears to silence it. He was no hero either, he couldn't even save himself, how was he supposed to save the entire city? He listened to the static from the radio, hoping to hear Riddler's voice just one more time and not his desperate laughter that continued to ring in his head. He hated the sound and as he brought his knees up against his chest he bit his lip hard enough to bleed to stop his own desperate giggling from escaping.

He hated the sound of laughter.

He had only heard the fake and demented and he wanted the warmth of soft chuckles from Alfred, craved the silken chest huff of Bruce Wayne, he even missed the wild sound of Jason's freeform giggling. He wanted the real thing back, he wanted the happy sound that brought him joy and cheer.

His shivering stopped and Joker could feel the tell tale drowsiness that would follow if he continued to lay naked in his own bed. He would be breaking so many promises if he died, he would be leaving Jason, he would be leaving Dick to handle Harish, he would be leaving Bruce alone in the big house without a real good bye.

Mr. J

Well that was a new voice he hadn't heard in a while. He gave a soft smile as he closed his eyes and pictured the bouncy blonde in his head.

Mr. J, you can't stay down like this

"Why not?" He asked softly to no one

You promised me you'd get 'im for me, that's why

"I never kept my promises to you," Joker reminded the voice in his head, "I never kept my promises to anyone, not you, not her, not him, not even myself."

Bullshit

Joker snorted and felt his chest vibrate with a silent giggle,

You always kept your promise to Bats

Joker's eyes snapped open and he watched his breath dance around him as he panted out a few breaths.

You promised him you'd get 'im, you promised Bats and you never broke your promise to Bats

"Can't I...just once?" Joker asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to the phantom that hovered inches from him. Beautifully blond with bright eyes and a smile that held enough sharp edges to kill.