Fic: Sunrise
Title: Sunrise
Word Count: 909
Pairings: none, or can be interpreted as Batman/Joker, whatever suits you
Disclaimer: I don't own TDK or its characters, I only emphasize their sexual tension in stories I post online for free. I profit only on an emotional level, not through monetary gain. (that would be nice, though...)
Rating: G
Warnings: ...none, really....wow, that's a first xP
Summary: Batman and Joker watch the sunrise together.
A/N: The image behind this is what pulled me into writing it, since I can't draw worth a darn. :P
He had lost track of how much time he had spent standing here. His cape remained dormant at his back, save for the trace billows of early morning breeze that he barely noticed through the thick armor. His hands lay in a similar stance of stillness by his sides, instead of their usual position of tensed fists that they more often than not assumed inside the black gloves. But for now, his night duties were finished, and all was motionless.
The world hung in limbo.
He knew he should be heading back to the cave to catch up on the most recent mob activity at the docks, before getting ready to present himself at Wayne Enterprises while politely ignoring Alfred’s protests to get some sleep. But in the recent months, he had become more and more ingrained in this simple ritual in this same time, at this same place. Perhaps for no other reason than for some preservation of routine. Of sanity.
Whatever the reason, he had increasingly sought out this vantage point atop the nonchalant office building at the city’s edge, taking the time window between the janitors leaving and the clerks arriving, to watch from the best view available to him.
To watch his Gotham come alive again.
He was reminded now of Harvey Dent’s speech those four long years ago. The night is always darkest just before the dawn. This was certainly an accurate statement, for the proof lay before his eyes tonight. The sun hadn’t risen yet. And all was dark. Darker than he had remembered seeing the skyline in a long while.
He thought of many things in these moments before dawn. He thought of whatever crimes he had stopped, and what more were to come. Which ones he hadn’t prevented, and which victims couldn’t be saved. He thought of Alfred at home, attempting like the rest of the city to maintain a curtain of normalcy, in the midst of this strange world they had unwittingly been thrust into. He thought of his company’s exploits, and what awaited him in his agenda in the office the coming morning. He thought of his parents, and of Rachel, and the lives he might have lived otherwise.
But most of the time, all such thoughts swirled around his subconscious, as he flitted over and filed away each one, every distinct pondering flowing seamlessly into the next in a ribbon of subliminal consideration. It was in these moments, these precious few stolen moments, that he could actually afford to do just that, to let all worries and cares and regrets simply flow over him in silent waves, and let his active thought processes let go. And just let himself…be. Nothing more or less than to watch his city and to breathe.
The footsteps approached from the expanse of the roof behind him before he even realized the change in atmosphere. The figure entered his peripheral vision to his right, but if he registered the presence beyond any subconscious recognition, he made no move to stop him.
The movement halted beside him, and all was still once more. Neither felt the urge to break the silence. Whatever purpose they had, it was understood to be, for once, mutual.
A flash of a butterfly-thought tingled in his head as to what the other’s intent was at this exact place and time, and how he had located him here at all in the first place. But the wondering faded almost as soon as it had come, spiraling into the ribbon-flow of his thoughts as naturally as the rest. Perhaps, he thoughtlessly mused, the other was experiencing the same.
Purple gloves were folded behind a similarly-clad back, violet coat disturbed only by the slightest strokes of air, milliseconds behind the same fluid actions of a black cape. Breath escaped nostrils in deep silent whooshes, for once threatening nothing but the fragility of the stillness and the moment.
Both knew at the backs of their minds that this was a break in routine, and that each breath in this silent bubble could tip the balance, could start a fistfight to the asylum or a death match against the timer of an inevitable explosion. But even deeper within themselves, in what could have once been called their souls, they knew that for the moment this particular break in routine had no reason to break. Neither had yet chosen to end the suspension of time, so neither felt any immediate motivation to put a stop to the other’s actions.
The world hung in limbo.
They didn’t look at each other. Didn’t acknowledge the other’s presence. Didn’t move in any manner in the free air of apprehension.
The hours became lost within each other. Their eyes stared distantly ahead, towards the smoldering east, where the first rosy fingers of dawn haloed their fire over the Gotham skyline. They silently watched the climbing eye of light, serving its purpose as a pair of blue and a pair of green shone brighter.
Gradually their city came to life. Cars began to honk. Lights turned on in buildings. Voices started to rise faintly in the air. The hustle and bustle had commenced. And their time was up.
One began to step away, followed by the other. They walked off in opposite directions, climbing down emergency stairs or leaping off the building in a flurry of wings. Concrete thoughts surfaced once more. Another day lay ahead.
The sun had risen.
Word Count: 909
Pairings: none, or can be interpreted as Batman/Joker, whatever suits you
Disclaimer: I don't own TDK or its characters, I only emphasize their sexual tension in stories I post online for free. I profit only on an emotional level, not through monetary gain. (that would be nice, though...)
Rating: G
Warnings: ...none, really....wow, that's a first xP
Summary: Batman and Joker watch the sunrise together.
A/N: The image behind this is what pulled me into writing it, since I can't draw worth a darn. :P
He had lost track of how much time he had spent standing here. His cape remained dormant at his back, save for the trace billows of early morning breeze that he barely noticed through the thick armor. His hands lay in a similar stance of stillness by his sides, instead of their usual position of tensed fists that they more often than not assumed inside the black gloves. But for now, his night duties were finished, and all was motionless.
The world hung in limbo.
He knew he should be heading back to the cave to catch up on the most recent mob activity at the docks, before getting ready to present himself at Wayne Enterprises while politely ignoring Alfred’s protests to get some sleep. But in the recent months, he had become more and more ingrained in this simple ritual in this same time, at this same place. Perhaps for no other reason than for some preservation of routine. Of sanity.
Whatever the reason, he had increasingly sought out this vantage point atop the nonchalant office building at the city’s edge, taking the time window between the janitors leaving and the clerks arriving, to watch from the best view available to him.
To watch his Gotham come alive again.
He was reminded now of Harvey Dent’s speech those four long years ago. The night is always darkest just before the dawn. This was certainly an accurate statement, for the proof lay before his eyes tonight. The sun hadn’t risen yet. And all was dark. Darker than he had remembered seeing the skyline in a long while.
He thought of many things in these moments before dawn. He thought of whatever crimes he had stopped, and what more were to come. Which ones he hadn’t prevented, and which victims couldn’t be saved. He thought of Alfred at home, attempting like the rest of the city to maintain a curtain of normalcy, in the midst of this strange world they had unwittingly been thrust into. He thought of his company’s exploits, and what awaited him in his agenda in the office the coming morning. He thought of his parents, and of Rachel, and the lives he might have lived otherwise.
But most of the time, all such thoughts swirled around his subconscious, as he flitted over and filed away each one, every distinct pondering flowing seamlessly into the next in a ribbon of subliminal consideration. It was in these moments, these precious few stolen moments, that he could actually afford to do just that, to let all worries and cares and regrets simply flow over him in silent waves, and let his active thought processes let go. And just let himself…be. Nothing more or less than to watch his city and to breathe.
The footsteps approached from the expanse of the roof behind him before he even realized the change in atmosphere. The figure entered his peripheral vision to his right, but if he registered the presence beyond any subconscious recognition, he made no move to stop him.
The movement halted beside him, and all was still once more. Neither felt the urge to break the silence. Whatever purpose they had, it was understood to be, for once, mutual.
A flash of a butterfly-thought tingled in his head as to what the other’s intent was at this exact place and time, and how he had located him here at all in the first place. But the wondering faded almost as soon as it had come, spiraling into the ribbon-flow of his thoughts as naturally as the rest. Perhaps, he thoughtlessly mused, the other was experiencing the same.
Purple gloves were folded behind a similarly-clad back, violet coat disturbed only by the slightest strokes of air, milliseconds behind the same fluid actions of a black cape. Breath escaped nostrils in deep silent whooshes, for once threatening nothing but the fragility of the stillness and the moment.
Both knew at the backs of their minds that this was a break in routine, and that each breath in this silent bubble could tip the balance, could start a fistfight to the asylum or a death match against the timer of an inevitable explosion. But even deeper within themselves, in what could have once been called their souls, they knew that for the moment this particular break in routine had no reason to break. Neither had yet chosen to end the suspension of time, so neither felt any immediate motivation to put a stop to the other’s actions.
The world hung in limbo.
They didn’t look at each other. Didn’t acknowledge the other’s presence. Didn’t move in any manner in the free air of apprehension.
The hours became lost within each other. Their eyes stared distantly ahead, towards the smoldering east, where the first rosy fingers of dawn haloed their fire over the Gotham skyline. They silently watched the climbing eye of light, serving its purpose as a pair of blue and a pair of green shone brighter.
Gradually their city came to life. Cars began to honk. Lights turned on in buildings. Voices started to rise faintly in the air. The hustle and bustle had commenced. And their time was up.
One began to step away, followed by the other. They walked off in opposite directions, climbing down emergency stairs or leaping off the building in a flurry of wings. Concrete thoughts surfaced once more. Another day lay ahead.
The sun had risen.