FIC: Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before... (The Dark Knight / Various, R, 1/1)
Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before...
Author: Palgrave
Fandom(s): The Dark Knight / Sherlock / Castle / Megamind / Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13, but possibly nudging into R
Warning: Ledger!Joker being a bad, sick little puppy. Nothing graphic, but mind-games ahoy.
Author's Note: This is basically my effort to cram Ledger!Joker into as many short one-shot crossovers as I can think of. I've got four so far, but essentially I'll keep adding to it the more I think of them, so it's sort of on-going. A quick word of warning; it's been a bit of a while since I've watched The Dark Knight so chances are I've kind of fused Ledger!Joker together with a whole load of other types. Feedback greatly appreciated, constructive criticism certainly welcome; enjoy!
Summary: It's a simple question, but even the Joker is surprised by the answer sometimes.
***Prelude
It’s the same question, every time. Only the answers change.
They always want to know. Deep down. Even as the ants cringe away from him in terror, their eyes are drawn to his scars, to the Glasgow smile torn raggedly into his cheeks, a permanent angry red smile at the madness of the world and the joke that only he is willing to get.
They always want to know. And so he offers to satisfy their curiosity.
Every time, the same question.
“Do you want to know,” The Joker asks, licking his lips, “how I got these scars?”
Except even the Joker isn’t prepared for some of the answers he gets.
***
1. Not What People Usually Say (Sherlock)
There’s a brief pause after the Joker offers the question while his nemesis in black scrutinizes him with eyes cold, revealing nothing as they stand opposite each other, both men barely even moving. Beside them, blue green light is reflected off the walls as the water in the swimming pool waves and splashes and the explosives in the black bag wait patiently to be detonated, all uncaring of the dramatic confrontation occurring around them. Outside the window, the cloudy night sky glows burnt orange with reflected lights (typical English weather), and the shrill sounds of police sirens getting nearer (the doctor friend’s been busy it seems).
London’s burning, the Joker thinks. Or it will if I have anything to say about it.
There’s a strange feeling as the other man gazes at him, of every single detail about him being noticed, categorized, recorded. You can almost see tiny words floating around him, as if the other man’s powers of observation are enough to simply make them appear.
A small smile, almost imperceptible yet somehow drenched in contempt, quirks at the corner of the detective’s mouth. It disappears as soon as it comes.
“Self-inflicted,” Sherlock Holmes responds impassively.
The Joker is not amused. His gun is aimed, unwavering, at the bag of nitroglycerin.
"You ruined my joke."
Sherlock shrugs. "It probably wasn't a very funny one anyway," he responds dismissively, as John Watson and the police burst in through the doors of pool, and things finally start to look interesting.
***
2. People Show You Who They Really Are (Castle)
“I can have a guess,” Richard Castle ventures nervously, not really enjoying the closeness of the Joker’s blade to his neck. “Gambling debts? Were you tortured by members of the Romanian mob when you couldn’t cough up the cash? No, that’s not really dramatic enough for you. Ooh, how about this; you were a member of a highly classified black ops unit sent deep undercover to infiltrate a terrorist cell in Afghanistan, except your cover was blown by a traitor in the Pentagon and after being tortured and left for dead, you’ve returned to take bloody revenge on the world -- ”
Oooh, the Joker likes this guy. Creative and annoying. It’ll be fun killing him.
“Castle!” Detective Kate Beckett barks, the seemingly steady pose and cool manner as she points her weapon at them belied by the sheer panic the Joker can see flaring in her eyes as his blade inches closer to the novelist’s throat (ooooh, someone’s in looooove, that’ll make gutting him like a pig sooo much more fun...). “Do not engage with him!”
“Sorry,” Castle mumbles sheepishly.
"No no," The Joker replies, speaking directly into Castle's ear as a lover would, "don't apologise. You're a good storyteller. Any more ideas?"
Detective Beckett speaks before Castle can start digging himself deeper (he actually does have a few more ideas, including a really cool one about some kind of alien sleeper agent, but he's getting the feeling this isn't the time). "There's no way out of here," she says, voice calm. Reasonable. Rational. The Joker hates calm, rational, reasonable people. "You're surrounded. You can still walk away from this. Things don't have to end badly here."
"Maybe not," The Joker reasons, "but you have to be honest; it'd be kind of fun if they did, wouldn't it? I mean, not for your boyfriend here, of course, 'cause he's gonna die (horribly), but I'm certainly enjoying myself, and don't tell me you're not getting kind of a thrill as well. You look the type." He licks his lips again.
Detective Beckett shifts slightly. It could just be maintaining her position. Or her composure slipping slightly. The Joker's getting a distinct 'lost someone she loves to violence' vibe here. That should make things interesting.
"And you can't deny, you'd be a hero. They'd probably make you a whole new medal for plugging me, Detective. And that'd probably take the edge off me sticking your boyfriend like a pig, wouldn't it? Just a bit?"
It's possible Detective Beckett's gun shakes slightly.
"And I've said this before, but you never really know what kind of person a man is until he's bleeding to death. So whaddaya say, Detective? Wanna find out what kind of guy you've really been doing all this time?"
."Don't," Detective Beckett breathes out, voice ragged. "Don't you... you do, you die. You understand me? You even think of hurting him, I will put a goddamn bullet in your head."
"That's the way," The Joker smiles sweetly (well, as sweetly as he can manage, anyway), and raises the knife to Richard Castle's neck.
Unfortunately, it seems that Richard Castle is not as inexperienced at getting out of hostage situations as the Joker anticipated.
***
3. The Villain Gotham Deserves and the Villain Gotham Needs (Megamind)
“Not particularly,” the man with the oddly large blue cranium sniffs dismissively. Seconds later, the Joker is very surprised to find himself suddenly turned into a tiny, glowing blue cube of compressed water sitting uselessly on the tarmac of the alleyway.
“Man,” Blue-Head Guy declares, returning his dehydration gun to his holster with a swish of a black leather cloak that just screams ‘evil genius’, “that guy was weird. This town really needs a better class of villain, Minion.”
“Couldn’t agree more, sir,” the alien piranha floating in the helmet-tank of the titanium death-gorilla themed suit who appears out of the invisible car hiding in the shadows (not that it needs to hide in the shadows, really, being invisible, but better safe than sorry; this is Gotham City, after all) replies cheerfully.
“And it’s up to us to give it to them, Minion,” Blue-Head Guy continues, warming to his subject. “And with that do-gooding buffoon Metro Man still in Metrocity and not around to stop us...”
“I do hear this city has a hero of it’s own, sir.”
A dismissive hand is waved. “He’s doubtlessly a fool as well, no match for my brilliant intellect and easily defeated.” Minion wisely refrains from pointing out how many times said brilliant intellect hasn’t allowed him to defeat Metro Man or prevented him from going to jail or, indeed, achieve any of his evil goals. Neither of them pays any attention to the little blue cube by their feet as it tries and fails to scream desperately about how this city will be his and the Batman will die by his hand and he’ll cut this idiot interloper to ribbons and throw what’s left on the fire as the world burns around him.
“And soon, Minion, we shall transform this place into our evil plaything of evil! We will take this... Gothomcity, and mold it into our own image! We shall make these mindless drones fear our names by committing such a devilishly fiendish at-ro city...”
“Um, it’s pronounced ‘atrocity’, sir.”
“Atrocity, that they will soon tremble at the evil name of MEGAMIND!”
The alleyway echos with Megamind’s name for only a moment before the most diabolical supervillain the world had ever known and his accomplice in crime began to laugh diabolically, contemplating their next course of action. Some men just want to watch the world burn. And other men think that’s boring and would rather have lots more fun tying the world to the railroad tracks and sniggering evilly while they wait by their solar-powered death cannon for the hero to show up.
“So,” Minion says cheerfully, once the routine diabolical laugh is completed, “First move, kidnap Roxanne Ritchi?”
Megamind rolls his eyes at Minion’s ridiculousness. “Well, obviously, Minion.”
In his ignored water-cube prison, the Joker rages ineffectually as Minion absently picks him up and stuffs him in a pocket.
***
4. Live To See Yourself Become The Hero (Doctor Who)
“Don’t really care,” Amy Pond retorts calmly.
“Amy, Rory says, arms held behind his back by a particularly large thug, cautious but not cowardly. He’s not as brave as his wife, which somehow makes him braver. Behind them, a room full of well-dressed people cower back from the Joker’s goons and gape at the little Scottish redhead in the denim jeans standing up to the monster.
“No, Rory,” Amy replies, still calm, still meeting the Joker’s eyes fearlessly. “No sense in being dishonest.”
The Joker giggles. It’s quite a horrible sound, really. He leans in closer, gently waving the knife between her eyes. Rory stiffens in the arms of the henchman.
“I like you,” he says. “You’ve got guts. Would you like to see them? I could show them to you. You’d be amazed how long you can last with your insides on the outside.” He ignores the angry yell Rory releases; frankly, he’s not as much fun compared to his wife.
“You don’t scare me,” Amy responds quietly.
The Joker’s heard that lie before. Except when he looks into this little girl’s eyes, he believes it. He’s not quite sure what to make of that.
“I might not,” the Joker agrees. He gently touches the knife to Amy’s cheek, not enough to cut (he wonders if her blood is as red as her hair), just enough so that she can feel it. She shivers, an involuntarily instinct, but still meets his eyes. Still doesn't fear him. “But I bet I can find out what can.”
There’s a gasp from the peons around the room, and Rory Williams struggles furiously against the henchman holding him. The Joker doesn’t care. He’s not interested in them. He’s interested in this little girl who’s not afraid of him.
“No,” Amy replies, still quiet, still intense. “You can’t. I bet you can scare these people, with your scars and your knives and your evil little games, but you can’t scare me. Even with that knife, you’ll never know what scares me. Because I’ve seen worse things than you, matey. I’ve seen the worst things in the universe. But I’ve got the best mate in the universe as well. And he’s much scarier than you. He's scarier and better than all the horrible things in the universe put together. Compared to him, you? You’re just a smelly little man in a horrible purple suit with a bad makeup job.”
The Joker giggles again.
“I’d like to meet him. Maybe I’ll introduce your insides to him.”
“You won’t get the chance. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
Before the Joker can even register that the girl’s suddenly shouting, something soft and round thrown at great force hits him in the side of the head. There’s no pain, but the Joker stumbles, allowing Amy to knee him the groin (with perhaps more force than necessary). As he rolls on the floor, giggling through the pain, he’s vaguely aware of that insignificant husband of hers breaking free of his henchman’s grasp with more skill than he should have (magnificent, really, almost like a centurion), of general chaos as the miserable little peons in the room are inspired to stand up against his guards (it doesn’t mean anything, they’re still worthless and insignificant, they’ll still cower like sheep and follow anyone mindlessly, he’ll kill them all later).
There’s suddenly someone’s foot on his throat. He looks up into the eyes of Rory Williams and giggles and sticks his tongue out. Rory very much looks like he wants to bring his foot down hard, crush the Joker’s throat, but resists. Pathetic.
There’s something blurry and orange just outside his vision.
“Ow!” A man in a tweed jacket and bow-tie whines as Amy stomps over to him and stabs her finger into his chest with a lot of angry force. “Stop that!”
“A satsuma?! Did you just save my life with a satsuma?!”
“Never underestimate satsumas, Pond. I once defeated an entire invasion of Earth with a satsuma. Satsumas are brilliant.” The Doctor looks down at the Joker curiously. “You know, I think I met another version of you once, in another universe. He was... pointier. And less scarry.”
The Joker just laughs, at a joke only he knows, involving satsumas and fire and a girl with fearless eyes.
***
Author: Palgrave
Fandom(s): The Dark Knight / Sherlock / Castle / Megamind / Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13, but possibly nudging into R
Warning: Ledger!Joker being a bad, sick little puppy. Nothing graphic, but mind-games ahoy.
Author's Note: This is basically my effort to cram Ledger!Joker into as many short one-shot crossovers as I can think of. I've got four so far, but essentially I'll keep adding to it the more I think of them, so it's sort of on-going. A quick word of warning; it's been a bit of a while since I've watched The Dark Knight so chances are I've kind of fused Ledger!Joker together with a whole load of other types. Feedback greatly appreciated, constructive criticism certainly welcome; enjoy!
Summary: It's a simple question, but even the Joker is surprised by the answer sometimes.
***Prelude
It’s the same question, every time. Only the answers change.
They always want to know. Deep down. Even as the ants cringe away from him in terror, their eyes are drawn to his scars, to the Glasgow smile torn raggedly into his cheeks, a permanent angry red smile at the madness of the world and the joke that only he is willing to get.
They always want to know. And so he offers to satisfy their curiosity.
Every time, the same question.
“Do you want to know,” The Joker asks, licking his lips, “how I got these scars?”
Except even the Joker isn’t prepared for some of the answers he gets.
***
1. Not What People Usually Say (Sherlock)
There’s a brief pause after the Joker offers the question while his nemesis in black scrutinizes him with eyes cold, revealing nothing as they stand opposite each other, both men barely even moving. Beside them, blue green light is reflected off the walls as the water in the swimming pool waves and splashes and the explosives in the black bag wait patiently to be detonated, all uncaring of the dramatic confrontation occurring around them. Outside the window, the cloudy night sky glows burnt orange with reflected lights (typical English weather), and the shrill sounds of police sirens getting nearer (the doctor friend’s been busy it seems).
London’s burning, the Joker thinks. Or it will if I have anything to say about it.
There’s a strange feeling as the other man gazes at him, of every single detail about him being noticed, categorized, recorded. You can almost see tiny words floating around him, as if the other man’s powers of observation are enough to simply make them appear.
A small smile, almost imperceptible yet somehow drenched in contempt, quirks at the corner of the detective’s mouth. It disappears as soon as it comes.
“Self-inflicted,” Sherlock Holmes responds impassively.
The Joker is not amused. His gun is aimed, unwavering, at the bag of nitroglycerin.
"You ruined my joke."
Sherlock shrugs. "It probably wasn't a very funny one anyway," he responds dismissively, as John Watson and the police burst in through the doors of pool, and things finally start to look interesting.
***
2. People Show You Who They Really Are (Castle)
“I can have a guess,” Richard Castle ventures nervously, not really enjoying the closeness of the Joker’s blade to his neck. “Gambling debts? Were you tortured by members of the Romanian mob when you couldn’t cough up the cash? No, that’s not really dramatic enough for you. Ooh, how about this; you were a member of a highly classified black ops unit sent deep undercover to infiltrate a terrorist cell in Afghanistan, except your cover was blown by a traitor in the Pentagon and after being tortured and left for dead, you’ve returned to take bloody revenge on the world -- ”
Oooh, the Joker likes this guy. Creative and annoying. It’ll be fun killing him.
“Castle!” Detective Kate Beckett barks, the seemingly steady pose and cool manner as she points her weapon at them belied by the sheer panic the Joker can see flaring in her eyes as his blade inches closer to the novelist’s throat (ooooh, someone’s in looooove, that’ll make gutting him like a pig sooo much more fun...). “Do not engage with him!”
“Sorry,” Castle mumbles sheepishly.
"No no," The Joker replies, speaking directly into Castle's ear as a lover would, "don't apologise. You're a good storyteller. Any more ideas?"
Detective Beckett speaks before Castle can start digging himself deeper (he actually does have a few more ideas, including a really cool one about some kind of alien sleeper agent, but he's getting the feeling this isn't the time). "There's no way out of here," she says, voice calm. Reasonable. Rational. The Joker hates calm, rational, reasonable people. "You're surrounded. You can still walk away from this. Things don't have to end badly here."
"Maybe not," The Joker reasons, "but you have to be honest; it'd be kind of fun if they did, wouldn't it? I mean, not for your boyfriend here, of course, 'cause he's gonna die (horribly), but I'm certainly enjoying myself, and don't tell me you're not getting kind of a thrill as well. You look the type." He licks his lips again.
Detective Beckett shifts slightly. It could just be maintaining her position. Or her composure slipping slightly. The Joker's getting a distinct 'lost someone she loves to violence' vibe here. That should make things interesting.
"And you can't deny, you'd be a hero. They'd probably make you a whole new medal for plugging me, Detective. And that'd probably take the edge off me sticking your boyfriend like a pig, wouldn't it? Just a bit?"
It's possible Detective Beckett's gun shakes slightly.
"And I've said this before, but you never really know what kind of person a man is until he's bleeding to death. So whaddaya say, Detective? Wanna find out what kind of guy you've really been doing all this time?"
."Don't," Detective Beckett breathes out, voice ragged. "Don't you... you do, you die. You understand me? You even think of hurting him, I will put a goddamn bullet in your head."
"That's the way," The Joker smiles sweetly (well, as sweetly as he can manage, anyway), and raises the knife to Richard Castle's neck.
Unfortunately, it seems that Richard Castle is not as inexperienced at getting out of hostage situations as the Joker anticipated.
***
3. The Villain Gotham Deserves and the Villain Gotham Needs (Megamind)
“Not particularly,” the man with the oddly large blue cranium sniffs dismissively. Seconds later, the Joker is very surprised to find himself suddenly turned into a tiny, glowing blue cube of compressed water sitting uselessly on the tarmac of the alleyway.
“Man,” Blue-Head Guy declares, returning his dehydration gun to his holster with a swish of a black leather cloak that just screams ‘evil genius’, “that guy was weird. This town really needs a better class of villain, Minion.”
“Couldn’t agree more, sir,” the alien piranha floating in the helmet-tank of the titanium death-gorilla themed suit who appears out of the invisible car hiding in the shadows (not that it needs to hide in the shadows, really, being invisible, but better safe than sorry; this is Gotham City, after all) replies cheerfully.
“And it’s up to us to give it to them, Minion,” Blue-Head Guy continues, warming to his subject. “And with that do-gooding buffoon Metro Man still in Metrocity and not around to stop us...”
“I do hear this city has a hero of it’s own, sir.”
A dismissive hand is waved. “He’s doubtlessly a fool as well, no match for my brilliant intellect and easily defeated.” Minion wisely refrains from pointing out how many times said brilliant intellect hasn’t allowed him to defeat Metro Man or prevented him from going to jail or, indeed, achieve any of his evil goals. Neither of them pays any attention to the little blue cube by their feet as it tries and fails to scream desperately about how this city will be his and the Batman will die by his hand and he’ll cut this idiot interloper to ribbons and throw what’s left on the fire as the world burns around him.
“And soon, Minion, we shall transform this place into our evil plaything of evil! We will take this... Gothomcity, and mold it into our own image! We shall make these mindless drones fear our names by committing such a devilishly fiendish at-ro city...”
“Um, it’s pronounced ‘atrocity’, sir.”
“Atrocity, that they will soon tremble at the evil name of MEGAMIND!”
The alleyway echos with Megamind’s name for only a moment before the most diabolical supervillain the world had ever known and his accomplice in crime began to laugh diabolically, contemplating their next course of action. Some men just want to watch the world burn. And other men think that’s boring and would rather have lots more fun tying the world to the railroad tracks and sniggering evilly while they wait by their solar-powered death cannon for the hero to show up.
“So,” Minion says cheerfully, once the routine diabolical laugh is completed, “First move, kidnap Roxanne Ritchi?”
Megamind rolls his eyes at Minion’s ridiculousness. “Well, obviously, Minion.”
In his ignored water-cube prison, the Joker rages ineffectually as Minion absently picks him up and stuffs him in a pocket.
***
4. Live To See Yourself Become The Hero (Doctor Who)
“Don’t really care,” Amy Pond retorts calmly.
“Amy, Rory says, arms held behind his back by a particularly large thug, cautious but not cowardly. He’s not as brave as his wife, which somehow makes him braver. Behind them, a room full of well-dressed people cower back from the Joker’s goons and gape at the little Scottish redhead in the denim jeans standing up to the monster.
“No, Rory,” Amy replies, still calm, still meeting the Joker’s eyes fearlessly. “No sense in being dishonest.”
The Joker giggles. It’s quite a horrible sound, really. He leans in closer, gently waving the knife between her eyes. Rory stiffens in the arms of the henchman.
“I like you,” he says. “You’ve got guts. Would you like to see them? I could show them to you. You’d be amazed how long you can last with your insides on the outside.” He ignores the angry yell Rory releases; frankly, he’s not as much fun compared to his wife.
“You don’t scare me,” Amy responds quietly.
The Joker’s heard that lie before. Except when he looks into this little girl’s eyes, he believes it. He’s not quite sure what to make of that.
“I might not,” the Joker agrees. He gently touches the knife to Amy’s cheek, not enough to cut (he wonders if her blood is as red as her hair), just enough so that she can feel it. She shivers, an involuntarily instinct, but still meets his eyes. Still doesn't fear him. “But I bet I can find out what can.”
There’s a gasp from the peons around the room, and Rory Williams struggles furiously against the henchman holding him. The Joker doesn’t care. He’s not interested in them. He’s interested in this little girl who’s not afraid of him.
“No,” Amy replies, still quiet, still intense. “You can’t. I bet you can scare these people, with your scars and your knives and your evil little games, but you can’t scare me. Even with that knife, you’ll never know what scares me. Because I’ve seen worse things than you, matey. I’ve seen the worst things in the universe. But I’ve got the best mate in the universe as well. And he’s much scarier than you. He's scarier and better than all the horrible things in the universe put together. Compared to him, you? You’re just a smelly little man in a horrible purple suit with a bad makeup job.”
The Joker giggles again.
“I’d like to meet him. Maybe I’ll introduce your insides to him.”
“You won’t get the chance. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
Before the Joker can even register that the girl’s suddenly shouting, something soft and round thrown at great force hits him in the side of the head. There’s no pain, but the Joker stumbles, allowing Amy to knee him the groin (with perhaps more force than necessary). As he rolls on the floor, giggling through the pain, he’s vaguely aware of that insignificant husband of hers breaking free of his henchman’s grasp with more skill than he should have (magnificent, really, almost like a centurion), of general chaos as the miserable little peons in the room are inspired to stand up against his guards (it doesn’t mean anything, they’re still worthless and insignificant, they’ll still cower like sheep and follow anyone mindlessly, he’ll kill them all later).
There’s suddenly someone’s foot on his throat. He looks up into the eyes of Rory Williams and giggles and sticks his tongue out. Rory very much looks like he wants to bring his foot down hard, crush the Joker’s throat, but resists. Pathetic.
There’s something blurry and orange just outside his vision.
“Ow!” A man in a tweed jacket and bow-tie whines as Amy stomps over to him and stabs her finger into his chest with a lot of angry force. “Stop that!”
“A satsuma?! Did you just save my life with a satsuma?!”
“Never underestimate satsumas, Pond. I once defeated an entire invasion of Earth with a satsuma. Satsumas are brilliant.” The Doctor looks down at the Joker curiously. “You know, I think I met another version of you once, in another universe. He was... pointier. And less scarry.”
The Joker just laughs, at a joke only he knows, involving satsumas and fire and a girl with fearless eyes.
***