Fic: Waltzing Matilda
Story Title: Waltzing Matilda
Chapter Title: Show Off
Genre: General/drama
Characters: Joker, Batman, Gordon, OC
Pairing: General (Little Batman/Joker, mentions of Joker/OC)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own them. I only own some minor character and that's it.
Summary: Joker's past comes back to bite him. Good thing he bites back.
Author Notes: I think this has been done before, but not quite this way. I do not intend ANY harm with using the name 'Matilda' in this story.
Batman had never seen that expression cross the Joker's face before. The humor had drained from him as though he had just been dumped with cold water. His once tense shoulders had dropped while his arms were lifeless by his sides. His whole stance of superiority had fallen completely, leaving a shell of a man behind it. Even the once powerful aura that seemed to flow around the Joker even during unconsciousness, was missing.
The most disturbing part of the whole transformation was his eyes.
The once deep seated pain in Joker's eyes that mixed with humor from unknown horrors, had come from hiding. All the pain, the anguish, and every raw feeling had poured itself into the forefront of Joker's once empty face. Buckets upon buckets of emotion pooled in, creating a sea of every human feeling known, mixed in some twisted, churning storm.
Batman was instantly reminded of his parent's death. The agonizing pain that rooted itself so deeply inside of his soul, morphing into something tangible when guilt had washed over his being, balled itself tightly in his gut. It gripped him tighter than any fist ever could, cutting off the vital strings that kept him sane. The pain that was so deep, it buried behind every thought, and was the motivation for every muscle movement.
That is exactly what was displayed so plainly throughout Joker.
It lasted for only a second, but that was enough for Batman. He had absorbed it into his psyche, burned into his memory. He knew he would never see that again. The next moment, Joker was instantly back to himself. If Batman had the unfortunate response to blink, he would have missed the whole thing.
Now that Joker was back to himself, Batman turned his attention to the woman who caused such a reaction.
A plain Jane kind of woman, with scraggly brown hair, and puckered, fake lips. Her dull hazel eyes did not match her aggressive nature in the least. She was obviously a woman who had spent too many years running from the things in the night or rather chased after the light. Years on the streets were evident in her wrinkled face. Not to mention Batman could smell the heavy, flowery perfume she wore from across the room.
"She's alive damn you!" She shouted with bits of saliva coming out as though she were rabid. She pointed a hot-rod red painted fake nail at Joker in an accusatory manner. The only thing stopping her from going across the room to throttle Joker was two officers holding her arms. They were desperately trying to drag her out of the interrogation room. Lifted from the ground by the officers, she began to kick her pleather stelletos' shoes, all the while screaming. "Matilda! He has her! He has her!"
She had somehow, made her way past the policemen around the holding cells, to the interrogation room. She had pushed her way into the door when Gordon was attempting to leave. The Officers were in hot pursuit of her, grabbing her when she was only a few steps into the room. Now, the door was wide open, having hit the wall at the force of the woman entering. The Officer on the right had scratches on his face, probably by the woman he was now trying to contain by the sour look on his face. The confusion of the activity was clear on Gordon's face.
The Officers both gave Gordon a look of apology before hauling the woman out of the room, despite her best efforts to stay.
She continued to scream 'he has her' over and over again as they hauled her out of the room. Her rusty voice that was tobacco laced, echoed down the halls. Batman knew they were going to lock her up for her activities. Sneaking past the guards and into the isolated room was a crime that earned her at least a few days in a cell, and assaulting an officer to boot.
"Well, she was feisty," Joker commented, a wide grin on his face, though his eyes remained empty. "Though, not that easy on the eyes... if you really want to get me uhhh in the mood to talk, you really should be a bit pickier about the girls you send."
Gordon ran a hand over his withered face, as though to wipe away his weariness. He gave Batman a look that expressed the urgency in the situation. There was a purpose for them being in this room with the insufferable man sitting proudly with his hands cuffed. There were lives at stake. How many, they did not know. Joker would not reveal this information to Gordon. He was glad Batman had shown up, despite the bad blood boiling around the department even though Batman was cleared of charges last month.
Had it really been a year since Harvey died, Gordon wondered, itching for a cigarette.
"Where are the bombs Joker?" Batman questioned, voice growling again. He finally brought everyone back in the room, reminding them why they were here.
The insane clown had thought it would be great fun to plant bombs around the city, which only he knew the location to. Gordon had sent out several men to check Joker's old hang outs to see if they could get any clues. A few hours later, and still nothing to go on. Now, they were reduced to trying to drag the information from the clown himself.
"Uh-uh," Joker clicked his tongue, wagging his index finger at Batman. "Now, that wouldn't be guessing if I told you, now would it? Defeats the whole purpose of the game- Oof!"
Batman had slammed Joker into the wall by his shirt collar. Joker let out a laugh, gripping the strong wrists that held him up against the wall. "You really need some new tricks- ahhh hehe," being cut off as a fist slammed into his face.
Gordon looked down at his watch, knowing that time was precious at moment. He was willing to over look Batman's rough treatment of Joker, knowing it was the only way to make him speak, only if Batman didn't break him... too much.
Joker opened his mouth wide, turning his jaw to get it to reset. He had to admire Batman at that moment. Knocking his jaw out of place with a single punch was not an easy feat. It had been broken so many times before that the bones were stronger from constant healing. He looked at Batman from under smokey eyes.
"Keep hitting me like that, and I'll tell you anything you want," he said, licking the corner of his lips. A small smirk starting there, with a salacious expression.
Batman had to take a deep breath to calm the growing anger. He had to remind himself that he was in control of this situation, not the Joker. Despite all his best efforts, the clown always seemed once step ahead of him. Of course, that didn't stop Batman from planning with the best of them and destroying the plots of the twisted man in front of him, who was now puckering his lips.
Joker let out another laugh, being hit across the face again. Batman had let go of him a second before the punch connected, causing him to fall hard to the concrete floor. He barely had time to stop his head from coming in contact, shielding it with his hands. He laid on the floor, giggling to himself. He was happy to know his jaw didn't reset again. He always found it annoying having to reset it in order to talk. That just took too much effort on his part. The ache that it left behind was not as glorious as a knife wound. It wasn't a beautiful sharp pain that spread like seeping oil across the body. No. It was a dull, circular pain that didn't even throb properly.
Batman stared down at Joker, who was giggling. He wondered where that man he had spotted for only a second had went. The mad man laying before him had no sympathy. He wasn't anything close to what Batman had been able to see. It was, in Batman's opinion, something promising to see that side of him. It meant that, somewhere deep inside of him, Joker was human. Despite his best efforts, he felt like the other humans of the world did. He was just as screwed as every one else was.
And that gave Batman hope for Joker.
"Aren't getting tired, are we, honeycakes?" Joker questioned with a pout, sitting up on his elbows, legs spread out in front of him. He quickly gave a grin that spread across his face, like a child who knew he got exactly what he wanted. "I'll never let you in on my little secret at this rate."
Despite the fury that threatened to take over Batman, he felt a sudden rush of calm wash over him. Even though Joker was taunting, he was giving in quicker than usual. He wasn't using his normal banter. Joker wanted this to be over quickly and was egging Batman on to finish it faster. Batman felt an itch in the back of his mind. He knew this was a ploy. It was important that he remembered this. His mind was screaming at him to hit Joker a few more times, knowing it would be over then. But, his instincts was telling him to make it slower. To agitate Joker. Not giving him what he truly wants. He was about to crack under the pressure. And Batman knew he must have something to do with what that woman had said to him.
Lives were at stake though. He had no time to deal with Joker's issues. He clenched his fists. He knew he was losing an opportunity to delve into Joker's mind... but there was too much to risk.
Batman quickly yanked Joker from the ground and proceeded to beat on him. After only a few hits, Joker was already singing. Batman knew, knew it wasn't right at that moment.
Gordon had already rushed out of the room, getting officers to the three locations that Joker had given them. Batman knew he should be part of the force that goes out and searches for the bombs. He should be helping them... but his instincts were going crazy. He knew something was going on between Joker and that hysterical woman that had run into the room. There was a connection that ran deep between the two, and Batman had to know what it was.
Joker watched as Batman went, lingering for only a few seconds after Gordon sprinted out. Joker shot him a toothy grin, before the door was locked. Joker let his false humor drop, the dread that he hadn't felt for years crept back into him. He began chewing on his thumb nail, something he hadn't done in quite some time. He relished in the taste of his grease paint from his fingers, the paint that reminded him who he truly was.
Knowing he was not being watched right now, since every cop in the force would be in a rush with the locations of the bombs finally revealed were given. He closed his eyes, letting the only kind of pain he disliked, wash over his being.
"HE has her," he whispered quietly. He felt the bubble of emotion rise from his chest. Instead of trying to contain it, he let it go. It tore into his being like a switch blade. It came to his throat, which constricted for a second before a little breath got through. It started as just an exhale, but some it turned into a single ha. It developed from that, into a few chuckles. Then, he laughed. His laughter consumed him, causing him to roll on the ground in a fit, grasping his sides. His ribs ached, his throat was dry, and for once, he didn't see the humor... but he couldn't stop laughing.
He laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.
The woman who had run into the interrogation room, sat with her legs and arms crossed. Her one leg, swinging in agitation. She rolled her eyes as the police dodged around the cells, running out the door.
"Don't I get a phone call or someth'em?" She asked loudly in a light Brooklyn accent. The police ignored her request, too busy following Gordon's orders to pay any mind to the woman in the cell. After a few moments of waiting for an answer she sighed, "No respect, I tell ya."
She grabbed her small purse, which they were too busy to take from her, and pulled out a cigarette. Before she could put it to her lips, a dark shadow was over her. Without even looking up, she knew who it was.
"Ain't I special for gettin' the bats here and all," she said, popping the cig into her mouth and lighting up. After a moment to enjoy her vice, she spoke again. "This 'bout my outburst?"
"You could say that," Batman replied. He took the sight of the woman before him in a little more. Her 80's styled flower print jacket, to her mini-skirt. She was clearly a woman of the streets. Gotham had a hundred of women just like her, wondering around her roads at night.
"Look," she said, tapping her ashes onto the floor. "I ain't gonna explain myself to nobody. He knows. That's all that matters."
"You know Joker," Batman stated.
"Wrong," she answered, taking another puff. She even blew it at Batman just to be smart. "I knew him. He ain't the same, and neither am I. If you want more than that, you're gonna have to pry it from him."
She looked away from Batman, holding her cigarette to her lips. She had a distant expression, as though she had forgotten where she was. Closing her eyes for a few seconds and taking a deep breath she turned back to Batman. "I want my lawyer and my phone call."
Batman knew he wasn't getting anything more out of her. He did know she was connected to Joker far more than she let on. She was the only decent lead to Joker's past that could possibly solve the riddle to the mad man's twisted motivation. It could lead to curing him or at least swaying the murders he caused. It was all held within this woman.
And Batman couldn't do anything to get it. That angered him more than Joker's taunts.
She rummaged through her purse, looking for her lawyer's business card, and when she looked up, Batman was gone. She shook her head.
"Show off."
Chapter Title: Show Off
Genre: General/drama
Characters: Joker, Batman, Gordon, OC
Pairing: General (Little Batman/Joker, mentions of Joker/OC)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own them. I only own some minor character and that's it.
Summary: Joker's past comes back to bite him. Good thing he bites back.
Author Notes: I think this has been done before, but not quite this way. I do not intend ANY harm with using the name 'Matilda' in this story.
Batman had never seen that expression cross the Joker's face before. The humor had drained from him as though he had just been dumped with cold water. His once tense shoulders had dropped while his arms were lifeless by his sides. His whole stance of superiority had fallen completely, leaving a shell of a man behind it. Even the once powerful aura that seemed to flow around the Joker even during unconsciousness, was missing.
The most disturbing part of the whole transformation was his eyes.
The once deep seated pain in Joker's eyes that mixed with humor from unknown horrors, had come from hiding. All the pain, the anguish, and every raw feeling had poured itself into the forefront of Joker's once empty face. Buckets upon buckets of emotion pooled in, creating a sea of every human feeling known, mixed in some twisted, churning storm.
Batman was instantly reminded of his parent's death. The agonizing pain that rooted itself so deeply inside of his soul, morphing into something tangible when guilt had washed over his being, balled itself tightly in his gut. It gripped him tighter than any fist ever could, cutting off the vital strings that kept him sane. The pain that was so deep, it buried behind every thought, and was the motivation for every muscle movement.
That is exactly what was displayed so plainly throughout Joker.
It lasted for only a second, but that was enough for Batman. He had absorbed it into his psyche, burned into his memory. He knew he would never see that again. The next moment, Joker was instantly back to himself. If Batman had the unfortunate response to blink, he would have missed the whole thing.
Now that Joker was back to himself, Batman turned his attention to the woman who caused such a reaction.
A plain Jane kind of woman, with scraggly brown hair, and puckered, fake lips. Her dull hazel eyes did not match her aggressive nature in the least. She was obviously a woman who had spent too many years running from the things in the night or rather chased after the light. Years on the streets were evident in her wrinkled face. Not to mention Batman could smell the heavy, flowery perfume she wore from across the room.
"She's alive damn you!" She shouted with bits of saliva coming out as though she were rabid. She pointed a hot-rod red painted fake nail at Joker in an accusatory manner. The only thing stopping her from going across the room to throttle Joker was two officers holding her arms. They were desperately trying to drag her out of the interrogation room. Lifted from the ground by the officers, she began to kick her pleather stelletos' shoes, all the while screaming. "Matilda! He has her! He has her!"
She had somehow, made her way past the policemen around the holding cells, to the interrogation room. She had pushed her way into the door when Gordon was attempting to leave. The Officers were in hot pursuit of her, grabbing her when she was only a few steps into the room. Now, the door was wide open, having hit the wall at the force of the woman entering. The Officer on the right had scratches on his face, probably by the woman he was now trying to contain by the sour look on his face. The confusion of the activity was clear on Gordon's face.
The Officers both gave Gordon a look of apology before hauling the woman out of the room, despite her best efforts to stay.
She continued to scream 'he has her' over and over again as they hauled her out of the room. Her rusty voice that was tobacco laced, echoed down the halls. Batman knew they were going to lock her up for her activities. Sneaking past the guards and into the isolated room was a crime that earned her at least a few days in a cell, and assaulting an officer to boot.
"Well, she was feisty," Joker commented, a wide grin on his face, though his eyes remained empty. "Though, not that easy on the eyes... if you really want to get me uhhh in the mood to talk, you really should be a bit pickier about the girls you send."
Gordon ran a hand over his withered face, as though to wipe away his weariness. He gave Batman a look that expressed the urgency in the situation. There was a purpose for them being in this room with the insufferable man sitting proudly with his hands cuffed. There were lives at stake. How many, they did not know. Joker would not reveal this information to Gordon. He was glad Batman had shown up, despite the bad blood boiling around the department even though Batman was cleared of charges last month.
Had it really been a year since Harvey died, Gordon wondered, itching for a cigarette.
"Where are the bombs Joker?" Batman questioned, voice growling again. He finally brought everyone back in the room, reminding them why they were here.
The insane clown had thought it would be great fun to plant bombs around the city, which only he knew the location to. Gordon had sent out several men to check Joker's old hang outs to see if they could get any clues. A few hours later, and still nothing to go on. Now, they were reduced to trying to drag the information from the clown himself.
"Uh-uh," Joker clicked his tongue, wagging his index finger at Batman. "Now, that wouldn't be guessing if I told you, now would it? Defeats the whole purpose of the game- Oof!"
Batman had slammed Joker into the wall by his shirt collar. Joker let out a laugh, gripping the strong wrists that held him up against the wall. "You really need some new tricks- ahhh hehe," being cut off as a fist slammed into his face.
Gordon looked down at his watch, knowing that time was precious at moment. He was willing to over look Batman's rough treatment of Joker, knowing it was the only way to make him speak, only if Batman didn't break him... too much.
Joker opened his mouth wide, turning his jaw to get it to reset. He had to admire Batman at that moment. Knocking his jaw out of place with a single punch was not an easy feat. It had been broken so many times before that the bones were stronger from constant healing. He looked at Batman from under smokey eyes.
"Keep hitting me like that, and I'll tell you anything you want," he said, licking the corner of his lips. A small smirk starting there, with a salacious expression.
Batman had to take a deep breath to calm the growing anger. He had to remind himself that he was in control of this situation, not the Joker. Despite all his best efforts, the clown always seemed once step ahead of him. Of course, that didn't stop Batman from planning with the best of them and destroying the plots of the twisted man in front of him, who was now puckering his lips.
Joker let out another laugh, being hit across the face again. Batman had let go of him a second before the punch connected, causing him to fall hard to the concrete floor. He barely had time to stop his head from coming in contact, shielding it with his hands. He laid on the floor, giggling to himself. He was happy to know his jaw didn't reset again. He always found it annoying having to reset it in order to talk. That just took too much effort on his part. The ache that it left behind was not as glorious as a knife wound. It wasn't a beautiful sharp pain that spread like seeping oil across the body. No. It was a dull, circular pain that didn't even throb properly.
Batman stared down at Joker, who was giggling. He wondered where that man he had spotted for only a second had went. The mad man laying before him had no sympathy. He wasn't anything close to what Batman had been able to see. It was, in Batman's opinion, something promising to see that side of him. It meant that, somewhere deep inside of him, Joker was human. Despite his best efforts, he felt like the other humans of the world did. He was just as screwed as every one else was.
And that gave Batman hope for Joker.
"Aren't getting tired, are we, honeycakes?" Joker questioned with a pout, sitting up on his elbows, legs spread out in front of him. He quickly gave a grin that spread across his face, like a child who knew he got exactly what he wanted. "I'll never let you in on my little secret at this rate."
Despite the fury that threatened to take over Batman, he felt a sudden rush of calm wash over him. Even though Joker was taunting, he was giving in quicker than usual. He wasn't using his normal banter. Joker wanted this to be over quickly and was egging Batman on to finish it faster. Batman felt an itch in the back of his mind. He knew this was a ploy. It was important that he remembered this. His mind was screaming at him to hit Joker a few more times, knowing it would be over then. But, his instincts was telling him to make it slower. To agitate Joker. Not giving him what he truly wants. He was about to crack under the pressure. And Batman knew he must have something to do with what that woman had said to him.
Lives were at stake though. He had no time to deal with Joker's issues. He clenched his fists. He knew he was losing an opportunity to delve into Joker's mind... but there was too much to risk.
Batman quickly yanked Joker from the ground and proceeded to beat on him. After only a few hits, Joker was already singing. Batman knew, knew it wasn't right at that moment.
Gordon had already rushed out of the room, getting officers to the three locations that Joker had given them. Batman knew he should be part of the force that goes out and searches for the bombs. He should be helping them... but his instincts were going crazy. He knew something was going on between Joker and that hysterical woman that had run into the room. There was a connection that ran deep between the two, and Batman had to know what it was.
Joker watched as Batman went, lingering for only a few seconds after Gordon sprinted out. Joker shot him a toothy grin, before the door was locked. Joker let his false humor drop, the dread that he hadn't felt for years crept back into him. He began chewing on his thumb nail, something he hadn't done in quite some time. He relished in the taste of his grease paint from his fingers, the paint that reminded him who he truly was.
Knowing he was not being watched right now, since every cop in the force would be in a rush with the locations of the bombs finally revealed were given. He closed his eyes, letting the only kind of pain he disliked, wash over his being.
"HE has her," he whispered quietly. He felt the bubble of emotion rise from his chest. Instead of trying to contain it, he let it go. It tore into his being like a switch blade. It came to his throat, which constricted for a second before a little breath got through. It started as just an exhale, but some it turned into a single ha. It developed from that, into a few chuckles. Then, he laughed. His laughter consumed him, causing him to roll on the ground in a fit, grasping his sides. His ribs ached, his throat was dry, and for once, he didn't see the humor... but he couldn't stop laughing.
He laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.
The woman who had run into the interrogation room, sat with her legs and arms crossed. Her one leg, swinging in agitation. She rolled her eyes as the police dodged around the cells, running out the door.
"Don't I get a phone call or someth'em?" She asked loudly in a light Brooklyn accent. The police ignored her request, too busy following Gordon's orders to pay any mind to the woman in the cell. After a few moments of waiting for an answer she sighed, "No respect, I tell ya."
She grabbed her small purse, which they were too busy to take from her, and pulled out a cigarette. Before she could put it to her lips, a dark shadow was over her. Without even looking up, she knew who it was.
"Ain't I special for gettin' the bats here and all," she said, popping the cig into her mouth and lighting up. After a moment to enjoy her vice, she spoke again. "This 'bout my outburst?"
"You could say that," Batman replied. He took the sight of the woman before him in a little more. Her 80's styled flower print jacket, to her mini-skirt. She was clearly a woman of the streets. Gotham had a hundred of women just like her, wondering around her roads at night.
"Look," she said, tapping her ashes onto the floor. "I ain't gonna explain myself to nobody. He knows. That's all that matters."
"You know Joker," Batman stated.
"Wrong," she answered, taking another puff. She even blew it at Batman just to be smart. "I knew him. He ain't the same, and neither am I. If you want more than that, you're gonna have to pry it from him."
She looked away from Batman, holding her cigarette to her lips. She had a distant expression, as though she had forgotten where she was. Closing her eyes for a few seconds and taking a deep breath she turned back to Batman. "I want my lawyer and my phone call."
Batman knew he wasn't getting anything more out of her. He did know she was connected to Joker far more than she let on. She was the only decent lead to Joker's past that could possibly solve the riddle to the mad man's twisted motivation. It could lead to curing him or at least swaying the murders he caused. It was all held within this woman.
And Batman couldn't do anything to get it. That angered him more than Joker's taunts.
She rummaged through her purse, looking for her lawyer's business card, and when she looked up, Batman was gone. She shook her head.
"Show off."