Team Anarchy - Round 1 - Little by Little [fic]
Title: Little By Little
Author: holisticalice
Prompt: "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall."~ Measure for Measure (Act II, scene i)
Characters: Harvey Dent, Joker
Pairings: subtle Batman/Joker
Rating: PG, PG-13
Word Count: 1,024
Summary: You ever wonder what happened after Harvey flipped that coin? The movie jumps straight to the Joker blowing the hospital up. But we know Harvey gets out. We know the Joker lives. This is my version of the missing scene.
Disclaimer: I, Alice Elizabeth Wilde, being of unsound mind and body, do hereby certify that I own none of this characters or events and am probably doing them a great injustice by writing about them. Also, I stole some lines from the movie.
He's lying but Dent doesn't know that. His eyes are focused on him, one burnt, the other normal. The sight doesn't bother him. You can't go around killing people without seeing some gore. It does makes him focus on his own eyes. They move when he's lying. Does he look like a man with a plan?
You didn't corrupt a district attorney, little by little, by not planning.
Gotham's White Knight, District Attorney. You'd think he'd be smart. Admittedly, you had to factor in the amount of pain he was feeling. Physically, his festering wounds smelling sickly sweet, gangrene setting in. Emotionally, coming face-to-face with the man he thought killed the woman he loved.
His hands are cuffed to the bed. He could feel the greasepaint move as he wonders why. Was he lashing out already? This make-up did nothing for his poker face. He goes over what he had planned to say in his mind. The interesting bits.
He undoes the cuffs, talking, provoking. Dent struggles to wrap his hands around his neck. Willing to kill. How the mighty have fallen. Gordon falling to the ground. He thought he had shot the commissioner. The revelation he hadn't had been shocking, metaphorically and literally. Batman falling by virtue, unwilling to kill. He almost grinned, thinking of Batman.
Keep talking. He struggles back and grasps Dent's hand. The hospital room is so sterile around them, the two festering against waves of sea-foam green. His wig is on the floor. Dent's hands sweat. What he would do for gloves in his hands, black. Batman doesn't come out during the day, though.
He continues talking. Dent's listening now, his eyes focusing on a gun he pulls from his nurse's outfit. He wonders if Dent even noticed his "I believe in Harvey Dent" sticker. He notices another tic of his as he starts to speak.
"Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order and everything becomes chaos."
He arranges the gun so it's pointed at his forehead.
"I'm an agent of chaos."
This was his favorite bit. He chuckled while writing it. At least he wasn't lying here. His eyes don't move a centimeter from his audience. His voice goes low, giving the truth away. He didn't mind lying. He just didn't want anyone to know he was capable of it. A good criminal is an honest criminal. Maybe Bats would agree with him.
"Oh and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair."
Dent breathes heavily. He can feel his eyes moving again as he shows him the heads side of a coin. "You live."
His eyes dart between the coin and Dent. "Mm-hmm."
His hands are on his, holding the gun.
He shows him the charred, scarred side of a coin. "You die."
"Mm, now we're talking."
The coin flips. Worry might be showing on his face. But Dent doesn't care, focusing on the coin instead. It lands, heads side up. He has to swallow his sigh of relief. After all, the Joker doesn't care if he lives or dies. He's just going with the flow, right?
"It's fair," Dent leans forward, eyes focusing on him again. "I need to get out of here. Do you know where they kep--"
He's pulling out the lacerated suit as Dent speaks the words.
The former district attorney stares.
"Are you going to help me?"
"No, I've got bigger fish to fry." He licks his lips.
Dent moves in his hospital gown until he's on the edge of the bed, breathes. "The Batman. I need to get to him. You aren't going to kill him, are you?"
He thinks it best just to smile. Inside, his heart is racing. Leaving a man's life to chance. A random flip of the coin. Batman deserves better than that. He won't kill him, not tonight. Not while he...Well, not while he was fun.
But Dent presented a problem. His speech was already showing its affects. The better half of his face lit by the window, the once-White Knight is just like him, just like Batman. Maybe worse. Concern rushes to his features but he can't show it.
He is at once both proud of his creation and afraid of it. No matter the sense you used to term, Dent had become nothing short of astounding. To make someone fall and then rise again, this time not as a virtuous soon-to-be-husband, but as the sinful, vengeful freak, pushed into madness by his speech. Astounding.
You don't make a killer, little by little, by not planning.
He tells Dent to think about going after some other people before the Batman. He helps him from the room, telling him which bus he'll be taking. They'd drop him off at a bar Wuertz frequents. All the while, he thinks maybe Dent can help Batman.
When Batman sees that Dent's gone off the edge, maybe he'll go over too.
Maybe he'll kill him.
He licks his lips again. Chaos was established in Gotham. Chance says he should live, for now.
But what about tonight?
With Dent out of the hospital, he pumps hand sanitizer on his hands, mixing with some greasepaint that stuck to his fingers. He smiles, thinking of Harvey Dent. His ace in the hole. A Joker, an Ace.
And a bat.
You don't yearn for a Batman to kill you, little by little, by not planning.
No, he had planned this from the beginning. But it was working out even better than his plans. Astounding. And he was on top of all of it.
Hopefully, by tonight, on top of Batman as well.
He smiles, making a noise. The hospital begins to blow up around him. Little by little. He presses the detonator as he makes it outside. It doesn't go at first. He hits a few times. There we go. Climbs into a bus.
Dent's waiting for him, along with a reporter one of his henchmen had grabbed. GCN's own Mike Engel. He had just the thing prepared for him to recite.
It was all coming together. Little by little.
By not planning.
Author: holisticalice
Prompt: "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall."~ Measure for Measure (Act II, scene i)
Characters: Harvey Dent, Joker
Pairings: subtle Batman/Joker
Rating: PG, PG-13
Word Count: 1,024
Summary: You ever wonder what happened after Harvey flipped that coin? The movie jumps straight to the Joker blowing the hospital up. But we know Harvey gets out. We know the Joker lives. This is my version of the missing scene.
Disclaimer: I, Alice Elizabeth Wilde, being of unsound mind and body, do hereby certify that I own none of this characters or events and am probably doing them a great injustice by writing about them. Also, I stole some lines from the movie.
He's lying but Dent doesn't know that. His eyes are focused on him, one burnt, the other normal. The sight doesn't bother him. You can't go around killing people without seeing some gore. It does makes him focus on his own eyes. They move when he's lying. Does he look like a man with a plan?
You didn't corrupt a district attorney, little by little, by not planning.
Gotham's White Knight, District Attorney. You'd think he'd be smart. Admittedly, you had to factor in the amount of pain he was feeling. Physically, his festering wounds smelling sickly sweet, gangrene setting in. Emotionally, coming face-to-face with the man he thought killed the woman he loved.
His hands are cuffed to the bed. He could feel the greasepaint move as he wonders why. Was he lashing out already? This make-up did nothing for his poker face. He goes over what he had planned to say in his mind. The interesting bits.
He undoes the cuffs, talking, provoking. Dent struggles to wrap his hands around his neck. Willing to kill. How the mighty have fallen. Gordon falling to the ground. He thought he had shot the commissioner. The revelation he hadn't had been shocking, metaphorically and literally. Batman falling by virtue, unwilling to kill. He almost grinned, thinking of Batman.
Keep talking. He struggles back and grasps Dent's hand. The hospital room is so sterile around them, the two festering against waves of sea-foam green. His wig is on the floor. Dent's hands sweat. What he would do for gloves in his hands, black. Batman doesn't come out during the day, though.
He continues talking. Dent's listening now, his eyes focusing on a gun he pulls from his nurse's outfit. He wonders if Dent even noticed his "I believe in Harvey Dent" sticker. He notices another tic of his as he starts to speak.
"Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order and everything becomes chaos."
He arranges the gun so it's pointed at his forehead.
"I'm an agent of chaos."
This was his favorite bit. He chuckled while writing it. At least he wasn't lying here. His eyes don't move a centimeter from his audience. His voice goes low, giving the truth away. He didn't mind lying. He just didn't want anyone to know he was capable of it. A good criminal is an honest criminal. Maybe Bats would agree with him.
"Oh and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair."
Dent breathes heavily. He can feel his eyes moving again as he shows him the heads side of a coin. "You live."
His eyes dart between the coin and Dent. "Mm-hmm."
His hands are on his, holding the gun.
He shows him the charred, scarred side of a coin. "You die."
"Mm, now we're talking."
The coin flips. Worry might be showing on his face. But Dent doesn't care, focusing on the coin instead. It lands, heads side up. He has to swallow his sigh of relief. After all, the Joker doesn't care if he lives or dies. He's just going with the flow, right?
"It's fair," Dent leans forward, eyes focusing on him again. "I need to get out of here. Do you know where they kep--"
He's pulling out the lacerated suit as Dent speaks the words.
The former district attorney stares.
"Are you going to help me?"
"No, I've got bigger fish to fry." He licks his lips.
Dent moves in his hospital gown until he's on the edge of the bed, breathes. "The Batman. I need to get to him. You aren't going to kill him, are you?"
He thinks it best just to smile. Inside, his heart is racing. Leaving a man's life to chance. A random flip of the coin. Batman deserves better than that. He won't kill him, not tonight. Not while he...Well, not while he was fun.
But Dent presented a problem. His speech was already showing its affects. The better half of his face lit by the window, the once-White Knight is just like him, just like Batman. Maybe worse. Concern rushes to his features but he can't show it.
He is at once both proud of his creation and afraid of it. No matter the sense you used to term, Dent had become nothing short of astounding. To make someone fall and then rise again, this time not as a virtuous soon-to-be-husband, but as the sinful, vengeful freak, pushed into madness by his speech. Astounding.
You don't make a killer, little by little, by not planning.
He tells Dent to think about going after some other people before the Batman. He helps him from the room, telling him which bus he'll be taking. They'd drop him off at a bar Wuertz frequents. All the while, he thinks maybe Dent can help Batman.
When Batman sees that Dent's gone off the edge, maybe he'll go over too.
Maybe he'll kill him.
He licks his lips again. Chaos was established in Gotham. Chance says he should live, for now.
But what about tonight?
With Dent out of the hospital, he pumps hand sanitizer on his hands, mixing with some greasepaint that stuck to his fingers. He smiles, thinking of Harvey Dent. His ace in the hole. A Joker, an Ace.
And a bat.
You don't yearn for a Batman to kill you, little by little, by not planning.
No, he had planned this from the beginning. But it was working out even better than his plans. Astounding. And he was on top of all of it.
Hopefully, by tonight, on top of Batman as well.
He smiles, making a noise. The hospital begins to blow up around him. Little by little. He presses the detonator as he makes it outside. It doesn't go at first. He hits a few times. There we go. Climbs into a bus.
Dent's waiting for him, along with a reporter one of his henchmen had grabbed. GCN's own Mike Engel. He had just the thing prepared for him to recite.
It was all coming together. Little by little.
By not planning.