Fic: Two's Company, Three's a Crowd
Title: Two’s Company, Three’s a Crowd
Author: Lenaf007
Rating: R - Course Language, Sexual themes, Violence, M/M Implied Relationship
Length: 5,968 words (Long I know. But it’s in three parts, so hopefully that helps!)
Prompt:
14. We work too hard.
We're too tired
To fall in love.
Therefore we must
Overthrow the government.
- Rod Smith
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of them, unfortunately. Though I’d really like to. You know, just so I could help think up the plot for the next film. xD
Summary: Takes place during the final scenes of The Dark Knight. Fleeing from the cops, Harvey runs into the Joker. Will he help him or simply make things worse? While trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered life, he must also deal with memories of his past and this strange alternate persona in his mind. The story also pulls from Harvey Dent’s past as explained in the novelization of the film for The Dark Knight. Don’t worry, you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on, that’s just where I pulled the information from. =)
Notes: Written for knightfest. A huge amount of thanks goes out to mistress_kabuki for being the ever-willing beta for this fic! Thank you for helping me transform this from thought into fic.
Crossposted to: knightfest, westillbelieve, nolanverse_fic, harveyjoker
---- Part 1
He could hear them speaking, but their voices sounded very far away. Their words were lilting up and down and Harvey could only make out bits and fragments of what they were saying. He latched onto the noise, doing everything he could to pull himself awake by listening to their words. He heard their footsteps move closer to him.
“What about his reputation? Five murders, two of them cops. That’s not something you can sweep under the rug!” Gordon. It had to be him. Anger filled his heart as he recalled his failed attempt to teach him what he’d had to learn so painfully. The boy, he hadn’t fallen. He’d been staring down at him when the Bat grabbed the tiny arm, barely holding himself and the child from the gaping drop below. His saucer eyes full of fear as Harvey had fallen away. Then there’d been pain at the back of his head and his chest and then darkness.
The pain, that’s what was coming to him next, almost as in answer to his thoughts. His chest was throbbing, but his head was worse. His bad eye was staring at the ground, which didn’t help him to figure out what was happening. For now he needed to learn more about what was going on, and who else was here with Gordon.
“No, you can’t!”
“I can take it. I can be what Harvey was. Tell them I did the killings.” It was the Bat he was sure of it. But why was he still here? They were hatching some sort of plan, but Harvey couldn’t tell what. His mind felt foggy and he couldn’t quite put the pieces together.
“Why is he running, Dad?” the boy. He’d have to flip again for him later. If he got out of here that was.
“Because we have to chase him.” Gordon started telling the boy some nonsense Harvey couldn’t keep up with. He was too distracted by the police sirens in the distance. They were getting louder. He couldn’t risk lying here listening any longer, he had to get out of here while he had the chance, Bat or no Bat. He opened his good eye and ignored the pain in his head the best he could. Gordon and his son were standing just a couple of yards away, the Bat was nowhere to be seen. That was a good sign, he might actually have a chance of getting the hell out of here before Gordon’s flunkies showed up.
As the sirens grew louder, Harvey forced himself onto his side, feeling his chest become alight with pain as his innards felt like they were moving in all the wrong directions. He repressed a groan and a sudden urge to hurl. He had to stay focused, and this was not the time for his body to start giving out on him. Half crawling, half walking, Harvey found his way into a nearby alley. He held himself up against the wall as he gave one last look to Gordon and the kid. Jim was now on his phone, probably telling his men that they’d apprehended him finally. Barbara and their daughter were moving down the stairway now to join them, the son was up ahead of Jim, seeming to watch something in the distance. It didn’t look like they’d noticed him yet, but something else was going on. Even though he could only see the back of Jim’s head, Harvey could tell there was something off about his posture. Something else was going on. Damn, Gotham never slept, did it? Harvey felt a sharp pain in his side and hissed. He’d have to find out about it later. Now he had to get the hell out of this place.
He made his way through the alleyways, clutching his side as he leaned heavily against the crumbling walls. Rachael’s death had certainly left its mark here. That was precisely why he’d chosen it to be the place where Gordon lost everything he cherished. Just like Harvey had. Harvey had wanted him to understand his anger, to realize what he had put his supposed friend through simply due to his own arrogance. As he felt a trickle of blood slide down his exposed cheek he realized this might end up being his own grave if he didn’t get moving. He reached the opposite end of the alleyway and realized foolishly that he’d reached the other side of Gordon’s goddamn perimeter. Cop cars were flashing blue beams across the hollow building remains and dogs were barking in the distance, but Harvey saw no sign of policemen anywhere nearby. What had pulled them away from their watch?
As Harvey raked his eyes across the array of vehicles, he saw one that was pulling up dangerously close to where he was. He took several steps back, considering moving back towards the Gordon family, perhaps he could take out at least a few of them before Jim finished him off. At least the boy if nothing else, but then his leg buckled as he turned. He tried to catch himself on the wall but the pain stabbed again in his chest and he folded to the ground. Running wasn’t an option this time.
Footsteps behind him. Had the cop already gotten out of the car? Had he heard or seen something suspicious? The grim image of half a man collapsing in an alleyway? Either way it didn’t really matter now. Harvey shakily went for his coin in his coat pocket. How was this going to end? The footsteps were moving closer behind him, more assuredly this time as Harvey flipped his coin.
Heads. Dammit. Harvey closed his eye and waited for the shocked exclamation behind him, waited for the handcuffs and humiliation of being so close to victory again, and once again having it snatched from him.
“Tsk, tsk, now this won’t do.”
Harvey turned slowly. He recognized that voice.
“I thought you were gonna be killing them! Not the other way around.” The Joker stood behind him dressed in a rather messy police uniform, one of his wrists bound with handcuffs, and a sly look in his mischievous eyes.
Harvey sighed. He did not need the clown right now. Him being here may possibly be worse than the police, especially if he decided to finish the job this time. “That was the idea.”
Joker grinned, his scars and faded makeup making his mouth look even larger as the blue lights continued to flash behind him. Harvey stood up slowly, using the wall for leverage. The police uniform was far too large for him, and the shirt was un-tucked on one side where a particularly large blood splatter made it look dyed. On his left shoulder, Harvey could see three embedded objects that looked like tiny knives. The trickles of blood they made striped down the length of the uniform. “So ya need a lift, Harv-ey?” The clown gestured behind him to the waiting car.
Harvey nodded slightly and started staggering over to the vehicle as Joker smiled broadly, barely suppressing a laugh and hopping back into the driver’s seat. Harvey dropped into the passenger’s seat, his chest still aching but feeling much better off his feet. Joker backed out of the abandoned police car perimeter the same way he’d entered. His posture was huddled still but his eyes darted back and forth looking for any sign of danger. Almost as if he was daring them.
---- Part 2
Harvey wasn’t quite sure when he dozed off. He fell in and out of consciousness as if his head were bobbing in and out water. Voices drifted in and out, some he recognized and others he didn’t. At one point he remembered having to concentrate very hard to get his feet moving as he leaned against a shorter, skinny man who kept trying to hold back outright laughter. Then he was lying down. He wasn’t sure how he knew that because he didn’t recall stretching out anywhere, but someone was shining a bright pen light in his bad eye. He couldn’t refrain from jumping as he stared into the eyes of an older woman.
“….head is……”
Were her lips moving? He couldn’t tell for some reason. He felts his eyelid getting heavy again as he prepared to fall back to sleep. It was only when he felt the all too familiar prick in his arm that he started to panic. It was the hospital all over again, getting poked and prodded and stuck by every curious doctor in Gotham. By instinct he reached over and attempted to pull the IV from his arm, attempted to remove the cruel device. Normally Harvey would’ve understood why it was needed, why he couldn’t stay awake. He would’ve been unnerved by it, but he would’ve given in. But Harvey was completely irrational at the moment. The fall from the two story building had granted him a mild concussion, broken ribs, among other as yet unknown injuries. But all his shocked mind could fathom at the moment was the stinging pain in his arm and what it might mean. He was being drugged, put under so he couldn’t unnerve them anymore. Placed cleanly out of the way and therefore out of mind. He wouldn’t allow them to restrain him again, just to put their pathetic fearful minds at ease.
He gripped the needle and started trying to pull. He was at an angle though, and was pulling it the wrong direction. A trickle of blood appeared beside it, and he let out a grunt of annoyance. Why couldn’t he get his hands and his eyes to line up properly? Then other hands were clasping his; pale, thin fingers wrapped around his own clumsy ones, the pasty white makeup dried and crusted under his fingernails.
“Let it go, Harv. I won’t let them take you again. Let it go.”
Harvey’s grip let go of the needle, though his eyes were transfixed by it and the trailing blood beside it.
“Good, good, Harv. I knew you’d listen to your best pal.” Black lined eyes met his as Joker nodded vigorously, his greasy green mop hair bouncing up and down, and that grotesque grin splattered across his face.
“N’my…. pal...” Harvey groaned, feeling the woman’s hands on his arm as she reaffixed the needle. He didn’t care at the moment though, Harvey’s eyes were watching Joker’s. The clown reached out a hand to stroke Harvey’s ruined flesh, though really there was little flesh left to ruin. He trailed his chalky fingertips over the unusual gaps and crevices of muscle and bone, his coal black eyes gazing at Harvey’s scarred face as if it were a perfect work of art.
“Oh but I am, Harv…. I’m your pal.” Joker leaned in close, almost touching noses. “Possibly the only one you’ve got right now.” His voice had taken on that taunting nasal tone, and Harvey couldn’t tell if he was mocking him or not. But then the drugs started kicking in, and Harvey felt his eye start to close.
“Nighty-night, Harv! Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you….” He made a wide, close-lipped smile, the lipstick making it look like his wounds were just made yesterday. “Trust me!”
When he’d been dozing between consciousness and sleep earlier, he’d been fortunate enough not to have to worry about dreaming. In fact, when Harvey Dent was still just Harvey, he’d made a decision to try to refrain from having to dream as much as possible. First of all, he didn’t get much sleep as it was. Between all the press conferences, studying up for the next case, and dealing with frequent threats on his life, there really wasn’t much time or desire to sleep. He felt too exposed, too vulnerable. Harvey had experienced a form of night terrors through much of his young adulthood, using the resulting insomnia to fuel his law degree pursuits. When he got older, he had to get more sleep, and so turned to prescription medicines to keep the night demons at bay. However, the drugs that kept him under this time weren’t meant to keep dreams away, so just as before they flooded Harvey’s mind en masse. Except this time, he couldn’t force himself to wake from them.
It was nighttime again, it was always nighttime in his dreams. He was walking along the sidewalk that he’d known since he was a child. He watched his feet, smaller than they were these days, crossing the familiar pavement. He knew what was coming. That was the problem, he always knew what was coming in these things.
At least you’re not completely alone this time.
That’s true, Harvey thought. It could be much worse. It could be like it was the first time… Then Harvey looked up to see he was already home. Had home been that close to the drug store back then? He thought back to when he left work, locking the glass door for the night and switching the Closed sign. After that, his memory between work and here seemed to blurry to remember, but his feet were leading him up to the door anyway. Harvey never wondered if he should or shouldn’t open the door this time, in fact that was the single decision that always seemed easy. As much as he didn’t want to see it, as much as his heart was racing in his chest right now, he knew he had to. It was simply the proper thing to do.
The door swung open and he was greeted with a familiar sight, one that made his stomach feel cold and the breath catch in his throat. He ought to be used to this. This wasn’t anything new…
But you still remember what they were like. We both do.
Harvey looked up at his mother’s pale face, eyes bulging and tongue slightly askew from her thin lips. Her simple dress was hanging almost as delicately as she was from the ceiling fan. Her neck was at an odd angle, almost as if she was expecting him home and was prepared to barrage him for his tardiness. Beneath her at Harvey’s feet lay his father, his brains still moist and shining upon the back of his blond head. His eyes were open too, almost as if he’d had a wonderful idea.
It can’t be much of one with that big-ass hole.
Felt himself start breathing again. He closed the door back slowly, wishing his hands would stop shaking already, and placed his jacket back in the coat closet. He had to call the police, he always had to. But in this dream, time never moved as it should. So just as Harvey was walking toward the phone, he was suddenly watching the cop on the ladder, taking pictures of his mother’s bulging face with a flash bulb. They were taping off around his father’s corpse and examining the pool of blood and brains that surrounded him. They bagged the gun, quickly and efficiently. Dad had been one of their own after all.
A woman was talking to him incessantly, many high pitched tones and questioning gazes fixed on him. Harvey didn’t say much, he just grunted yes or no depending on what she wanted to hear. They were pulling his mother down now, her dead weight and the unbalanced fan were giving them problems. It took four of them total to accomplish it.
You know, she couldn’t have gotten up there on her own.
Harvey shrugged, you can’t be so sure. People can do lots of things if they’re angry enough.
Yeah, but do you think she was angry? She never acted like it. He’s the one that kept hitting her.
Harvey’s gaze fell down to his father again. The proud man huddled into a bloody heap on the floor beneath her feet. He’d always beaten her, ever since Harvey could remember. And how he would’ve hated being seen at her feet like this, as though he was somehow beneath her.
But still, you know I’m right. She couldn’t get up that high not without help. And where would she have jumped from, Harvey? The sky? I’m telling you, he’s the one that did it. A fucking murder suicide, the bastard. And after she dealt with him living across town with that whore for so long…
Exactly why she could’ve done it. She had it in her, dad had always called her “one of those”, whatever the hell that had meant…
And then the bodies were gone. The police had vanished just as quickly as they’d appeared, and Harvey was left by himself again. He checked his watch, 2 AM. Jesus, it was always 2 AM in this dream…
Must be your favorite time of the day!
Blow me.
I would, but would that be considered incest or narcissism? I know what a stickler you are about laws…
Dammit, wasn’t this bad enough to have to live over and over again without your voice stuck in my mind?
Would you rather have silence? I thought you’d gotten enough of that here. Silence at home, silence at school, silence even at work. Not really anyplace to go without silence if you ask me.
Harvey sat down in his father’s chair. It was going to be a long, cold night.
Hey, don’t blame me. For once, I didn’t do it.
---- Part 3
Harvey’s dream started to fade away and get darker as he became aware of movement around him. As the darkness surrounded the empty living room and the bloodstained floor, he started focusing on a dim light that appeared in the center of his vision. It seemed very far away, but the longer he stared at it, the brighter it seemed to get. It started out as only a pinprick then grew brighter and brighter until he was able to identify what it was: A lamp. It was a weird purple color, vibrant against the dingy gray paint on the wall. The lamp shade was teetering on top of the bulb beneath, as if it didn’t quite fit. Harvey tried to blink, but then remembered that he no longer had a lid on that eye, so he opened the other just to make sure it wasn’t part of his dream.
He heard what sounded like a restrained squeal from his left, and slowly he turned his head to face the noise. Joker was standing there, hands clasped in mock adoration. His face gleamed in the lamp’s light, and judging by the reapplied make-up, he looked better than he had before. His greasy green hair though still resembled the comb that had gone through it probably just a few minutes ago, and old smudges of blood were patched across his t-shirt. The shirt was probably white at one point, but now it more resembled a butcher’s smock especially with the gleaming grin of the Guns n Roses skeleton. The cheerful skull looked almost as happy as the clown. Still, Harvey had to admit he preferred the low hanging jeans and bloody shirt to the cop uniform earlier. He just didn’t want to think about the police right now.
“Oh Harv, ya finally woke up! Here I was thinking you were gonna sleep - for daaaays.” Joker flung his arm back as if to show just how long that really was. It was strange to see him moving like a regular person. Somehow it just didn’t seem to fit properly on him. Now that Harvey didn’t have the constant pain in his chest, he felt as though he could think clearer.
The first time he’d seen the Joker was on the black and white video tapes from security cameras and on the “clown terrorist” tapes that were broadcast on the six o’clock news. He was frightening to Harvey then, like some kind of Blair Witch Project creature lurking just out of sight to hide its grotesque form. He seemed uncontrollable and unpredictable, just the wrong combination that Gotham couldn’t handle.
Then Commissioner Loeb was killed followed by Judge Serillo. The city had flown into chaos, and it seemed like every policeman in Gotham had lost all reason and any form of bravery they might have had. The people were screaming for blood, for Batman’s blood. Harvey had to do something, the idiot vigilante was going to throw himself to the wolves and leave the city completely unprotected. When Harvey stood before the press and claimed to be the Bat, he’d taken the city’s shock and insults with a smile - one he’d perfected during his campaign. The city just didn’t know what was best for it, and even though Harvey knew he was taking a dangerous gamble, he had no choice but to trust in his instincts to save Gotham.
The intensity of the squad car shooting gallery had surprised him. He’d expected the Joker to take the bait certainly, but he had underestimated how much artillery and tactical knowledge the Joker had at his fingertips. Harvey had a sinking feeling when he stepped into the squad car, still flush from his kiss with Rachael, only to find himself sitting awkwardly across from a fully armored guard with a rifle. The rocket-powered grenade, as Gordon had informed him later, had been the thunderous roar that had knocked him into the opposite seat. From that point on, Harvey had clutched the slippery seats as best he could, trying to prevent himself from being slung side to side like a sack doll.
When the vehicle had finally stopped, Harvey had just stared at the side of the car, waiting for a final blast from some giant bazooka. After a few moments, it was the terrified guard that had broken the silence. “D-do you think it’s over?”
Harvey hadn’t answered. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, but he knew waiting wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He’d heard a commotion outside behind the vehicle, and as he’d been trying to figure out if he could open the door from the inside, it had flung open on its own. Gordon’s smiling face had been the last thing he’d expected to see.
In the end, Harvey had survived, like he always seemed to do. But more importantly, he finally got to see the clown for the first time in person. He couldn’t get very close, the police would never allow it after they’d lost so many officers in the chase, but Harvey did see the man as he was led into a different armored car, arms and legs chained. The two of them had locked eyes, and the chaos and unpredictability Harvey had expected to see there was replaced by the cool, calculating gaze of a man who had nothing to lose. Thinking back on it now, Harvey foolishly realized they’d grossly underestimated the clown. Harvey, Gordon, even the Bat - they’d all thought the Joker wasn’t much of a threat. Staring at this kid in the grungy band shirt - it was hard to realize this was the same person.
Harvey pushed himself to a sitting position, grinding his teeth against the vertigo that ensued. Whatever drugs he’d been given were still pretty fresh in his system. “What?” his mouth felt like it was stuffed with a handful of dried leaves. “What did you do….?” His tongue didn’t want to cooperate, but he hoped his words were audible. He turned to the left again to find that Joker was no longer there. He blinked, his mind still too slow to catch up with so much energy.
“You know what cleans out all the drugs, Harv-ey?” His voice was echoing from the hallway amid a mingling of the clang of pots and pans. What the hell was he doing? Harvey had images of all kinds of weapons and torture methods that he might pull out. He was certainly disabled at the moment, and he’d make an easy target.
“Excuse me?” Harvey called, as he looked around the room for something he might use as a weapon. A pile of newspapers in the corner that looked almost as old as the paint on the walls, the bottom ones were mildewed and sticking to the wooden floor. A small wooden desk sat nearby with multicolored post-it notes stuck all over the flat desktop. Beside him there was a night stand with a bowl of reddish water and a washcloth hanging out of it. He eyed it curiously, had the Joker really been playing nurse maid with him? He thought of the nurse outfit Joker had donned in the hospital. Maybe this was some kind of creepy kink?
Joker came back into the room, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. He held in his hands a rusty cooking pan he was using as a makeshift bed tray. On top was a bowl of multi-colored cereal with so much milk that it was spattering along the brown and orange pan beneath. Harvey had to refrain from smirking.
“Why some fruity-fruity Fruit Loops!” Joker’s smile widened, the scars at the corners of his mouth looking as if they’d split if he tried any more. Harvey stared at him in disbelief. His eyes darted between the cheerfully colored bowl and the clown’s large grin. Images of Commissioner Loeb came unwillingly to mind - poisoned in his own office, collapsing in a corner with blood and foam oozing from his mouth, with Gordon’s voice whispering, “How the hell that clown slipped acid into his glass is anyone’s guess.”
Harvey stared into Joker’s eyes, “I don’t like cereal.”
Joker blinked, “What? Don’t like cereal? What kind of crazy person are you?!” Joker stuck out his lips in a pout and was eyeing the bowl in annoyance.
“I’m uh,” Harvey swallowed hard, trying to get control over his galloping heart.
Just tell him to fuck off. He’s trying to bump you off now that you’re weak.
No, if Joker had wanted to kill him he could’ve done it earlier. No, he had to play this smart. Harvey didn’t wonder at the fact that this was the first time he’d heard this other voice outside of his dreams. He didn’t worry at the fact that he was now having a mental conversation with himself. In fact, he was rather glad to have someone to discuss this with.
He’ll think you owe him if you kiss his ass, Harvey. You know that.
“What’s wrong, Harv? Cat got your tongue?” Joker’s eyes seemed darker now, as if he expected Dent to suddenly make a run for it. “You uh, you got something you wanna tell me, Harv?” His voice was metallic.
“I’m lactose intolerant.” Harvey croaked, swallowing again as he watched Joker’s reaction intently.
It took less than a minute, but to Harvey’s eyes it seemed like a scene in slow motion out of an action film. The Joker burst into a fit of laughter, tipping the already warped pan too far so that the bowl of brightly colored cereal landed upside down with a wet shlooop! onto the floor.
Joker stared at him for a few moments, his face frozen in a smile and his black eyeliner streaking in tears. Then he burst into another fit of laughter, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Oh Harv, I knew you had it in ya! Hahaha! Oh man, I knew there was a reason I liked ya so much, Harv-eey.” He made a smacking sound with his lips and before Harvey knew what was happening, Joker had crawled onto the bed with him. He positioned himself so he was straddling Harvey’s legs, his arms crossed along Harvey’s chest as he stared Dent down, a smile pulling at his lips.
“You know Harv, I know funny when I see it, and you’re…” His dark eyes drifted over to Harvey’s scars, his eyes narrowing as he licked his blood-red lips, “You’re definitely something more than funny. I think I uh, I think I like ya, Harv-eey.” He made a chewing motion with his lips again, his eyes taking in Harvey’s face with excitement.
Harvey studied him carefully, he could feel himself pulling back to let this other Harvey, this darker Harvey, take over. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again his breathing was calmer, his heartbeat was more controlled.
Dammit, he’s gonna kill me right here and now, I just know it. Not that it really matters any more.
“Then let me take care of it,” Dent’s voice came out an octave lower than his regular voice, with a deep gritty tinge to it that caught the Joker’s attention.
Who the hell are you?
“Just call me Harv, kid.” Harv smiled. He hadn’t realized he was talking out loud, but he had never really come out fully before. Controlling a body was very different from speaking from inside Dent’s head it seemed.
“Umm, what are you talking about, Harv-eey? And who the hell are you calling a kid?” Joker’s eyes narrowed as his demeanor grew darker. He was watching Dent with a mixture of curiosity and outrage, and Harv took a deep breath before addressing him.
“What do you want with me, clown?”
Joker’s smile widened, as he made that strange hyena laughter in the back of his throat, “What do I want from you?!” He screamed into Harvey’s face, his left hand gripping Harvey’s hair. Harv refrained from wincing. He knew any sign of fear and the Joker would just lap it up. Instead Harvey simply set his jaw and maintained his gaze. Joker stared at him silently for a moment before continuing in a calmer voice, releasing Dent’s hair and sliding his hand down to the man’s chest. “What does every psychopath with my credentials want, Harv? It is Harv, right?”
Harv nodded slowly, “You want to kill the Bat.”
“No, no, no,” Joker was shaking his head, his hand toying with the buttons on Dent’s dress shirt. “I used to wanna kill ‘im, but I dunno Harv. I think this town’d be awfully boring without him.” His eyes returned to meet Dent’s, “I don’t want that. I don’t like being bored, Harv.”
Harv chuckled, “I think I can understand that. Now get the fuck off me.” His smile faded as he glared at the clown.
Joker grinned, stroking at Harv’s scars - the wrapped muscle, the slightly exposed bone, and the raw texture. “But I like ya, Harv. I don’t wanna go!” He smiled seductively.
“Well at least I warned you,” Harv whispered. Then he put both hands on the clown’s chest and shoved him, hard. Joker flew off the bed, his eyes wide. He landed on his back on the wooden floor, knocking aside the moldy newspapers.
“Owwwww,” Joker whined as he got to his feet. “That kinda hurt, Harv.” His voice was whimsical, but his eyes were dark.
Harv pulled himself out of bed too quickly and the dizziness overwhelmed him. “Aaah,” he groaned as he flung his arm out to keep his balance. He grabbed onto the night stand, the bowl of water wobbling slightly. Then a large force shoved into him and he was on the floor face down.
“Get the fuck off me, clown!” Harv growled as Joker pinned his arms beneath his knees. His chest was burning again, and his head ached, but he didn’t care about that right now. He had to prove himself to this bastard, and if he got killed in the process, well that was just how it was going to be.
What the hell are you doing? Is this what you call handling him?!
Oh jeez, the DA was getting his panties in a wad. Harv knew he had a better chance of preventing this clown from killing them, but explaining his logic to Harvey simply wasn’t going to happen. The guy was freaking out more than Harv was used to. Typically Harv didn’t have to take a step out like this. Typically Harvey was able to handle the hard times on his own. But ever since that Rachael chick died, it was like he’d just cracked under the pressure.
You know I can hear you? How dare you talk about Rachel like that!
Harv smiled. It looks like the two of them were gonna have to learn to live with each other… somehow. He felt the clown leaning toward him again, his green hair draping close to his bad eye.
“Oh Harv,” Joker leaned down, licking at the scars on Dent’s cheek. “You’re really hot when you’re angry…”
Harv growled, trying his best to force the clown off his back, but Joker just leaned forward pinning his arms tighter until Harv grunted in pain. Joker leaned down and released the weight on Dent’s arms a bit, whispering into the nub that used to be his ear. “I like ya, Harv, I like ya a lot. But I don’t wanna fight ya, babe! You and me, crazies like us gotta stick together.” Joker lapped at his ear, his warm, wet tongue making circles around Harvey’s ear hole.
Harv had stopped struggling; even with his anger boiling he couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through him. His skin was still too sensitive, and of course the clown had done his homework. “I-“ he shuddered again as Joker started licking at his raw cheek bone, “We don’t like you.”
Jesus, thank you for at least acknowledging my existence! Harv could see the DA pacing back and forth in the back of his mind.
“Aww, Harv that hurts! I said I was sorry about that whole business - I mean, I was gonna let ya kill me and everything. You know how many cops would just love to get a shot at me.” He snickered into Harv’s hair, leaning his forehead into the back of Dent’s head.
Harv sighed, “You’ve got a good point. You oughta be glad you’re a lucky guy.”
A good point? He doesn’t have a good point! He’s a fucking psycho!
Joker returned to licking at Harv’s face again, “Ya gotta admit, Harv, at least you know who your real enemies are now.” Joker growled, his hot breath against Harv’s face, “And it looks like I’m the only pal you got left.” Joker’s laughter was bubbling up again, his body shaking as he leaned against Harv’s back.
Harv knew this wasn’t entirely true. Watching the annoyed little DA glaring at him from within his mind, he knew he had another ally, even if he didn’t entirely approve of him. Regardless though, he felt that this was the beginning of something new for both of them. Together the three of them might just make something of this fucked up little town.
Harv watched the Joker with a mixture of fascination and frustration. On one hand, he couldn’t stand the clown. He was arrogant and ridiculous, not to mention the fact that he had a severe lack of dress sense. But as Joker leaned down to nip at Dent’s half-head of hair with his teeth, Harv was careful to note how strong Joker was. He smiled a bit to realize that he’d underestimated him much as Harvey had. The clown was definitely more than what he seemed.
Yeah I guess he is. Harvey sighed from within his mind, raking a hand through his hair.
Harv knew that Harvey was more than a little curious about where this would lead. The two of them weren’t that different after all. So they’d humor the clown - at least for a little while. Hell, the two of them certainly didn’t have much left to lose. They certainly didn’t seem to be getting rid of each other any time soon, and they sure as hell weren’t afraid of dying. Besides, they liked to take chances. Where was the fun if you didn’t?
~Fin
Author: Lenaf007
Rating: R - Course Language, Sexual themes, Violence, M/M Implied Relationship
Length: 5,968 words (Long I know. But it’s in three parts, so hopefully that helps!)
Prompt:
14. We work too hard.
We're too tired
To fall in love.
Therefore we must
Overthrow the government.
- Rod Smith
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of them, unfortunately. Though I’d really like to. You know, just so I could help think up the plot for the next film. xD
Summary: Takes place during the final scenes of The Dark Knight. Fleeing from the cops, Harvey runs into the Joker. Will he help him or simply make things worse? While trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered life, he must also deal with memories of his past and this strange alternate persona in his mind. The story also pulls from Harvey Dent’s past as explained in the novelization of the film for The Dark Knight. Don’t worry, you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on, that’s just where I pulled the information from. =)
Notes: Written for knightfest. A huge amount of thanks goes out to mistress_kabuki for being the ever-willing beta for this fic! Thank you for helping me transform this from thought into fic.
Crossposted to: knightfest, westillbelieve, nolanverse_fic, harveyjoker
---- Part 1
He could hear them speaking, but their voices sounded very far away. Their words were lilting up and down and Harvey could only make out bits and fragments of what they were saying. He latched onto the noise, doing everything he could to pull himself awake by listening to their words. He heard their footsteps move closer to him.
“What about his reputation? Five murders, two of them cops. That’s not something you can sweep under the rug!” Gordon. It had to be him. Anger filled his heart as he recalled his failed attempt to teach him what he’d had to learn so painfully. The boy, he hadn’t fallen. He’d been staring down at him when the Bat grabbed the tiny arm, barely holding himself and the child from the gaping drop below. His saucer eyes full of fear as Harvey had fallen away. Then there’d been pain at the back of his head and his chest and then darkness.
The pain, that’s what was coming to him next, almost as in answer to his thoughts. His chest was throbbing, but his head was worse. His bad eye was staring at the ground, which didn’t help him to figure out what was happening. For now he needed to learn more about what was going on, and who else was here with Gordon.
“No, you can’t!”
“I can take it. I can be what Harvey was. Tell them I did the killings.” It was the Bat he was sure of it. But why was he still here? They were hatching some sort of plan, but Harvey couldn’t tell what. His mind felt foggy and he couldn’t quite put the pieces together.
“Why is he running, Dad?” the boy. He’d have to flip again for him later. If he got out of here that was.
“Because we have to chase him.” Gordon started telling the boy some nonsense Harvey couldn’t keep up with. He was too distracted by the police sirens in the distance. They were getting louder. He couldn’t risk lying here listening any longer, he had to get out of here while he had the chance, Bat or no Bat. He opened his good eye and ignored the pain in his head the best he could. Gordon and his son were standing just a couple of yards away, the Bat was nowhere to be seen. That was a good sign, he might actually have a chance of getting the hell out of here before Gordon’s flunkies showed up.
As the sirens grew louder, Harvey forced himself onto his side, feeling his chest become alight with pain as his innards felt like they were moving in all the wrong directions. He repressed a groan and a sudden urge to hurl. He had to stay focused, and this was not the time for his body to start giving out on him. Half crawling, half walking, Harvey found his way into a nearby alley. He held himself up against the wall as he gave one last look to Gordon and the kid. Jim was now on his phone, probably telling his men that they’d apprehended him finally. Barbara and their daughter were moving down the stairway now to join them, the son was up ahead of Jim, seeming to watch something in the distance. It didn’t look like they’d noticed him yet, but something else was going on. Even though he could only see the back of Jim’s head, Harvey could tell there was something off about his posture. Something else was going on. Damn, Gotham never slept, did it? Harvey felt a sharp pain in his side and hissed. He’d have to find out about it later. Now he had to get the hell out of this place.
He made his way through the alleyways, clutching his side as he leaned heavily against the crumbling walls. Rachael’s death had certainly left its mark here. That was precisely why he’d chosen it to be the place where Gordon lost everything he cherished. Just like Harvey had. Harvey had wanted him to understand his anger, to realize what he had put his supposed friend through simply due to his own arrogance. As he felt a trickle of blood slide down his exposed cheek he realized this might end up being his own grave if he didn’t get moving. He reached the opposite end of the alleyway and realized foolishly that he’d reached the other side of Gordon’s goddamn perimeter. Cop cars were flashing blue beams across the hollow building remains and dogs were barking in the distance, but Harvey saw no sign of policemen anywhere nearby. What had pulled them away from their watch?
As Harvey raked his eyes across the array of vehicles, he saw one that was pulling up dangerously close to where he was. He took several steps back, considering moving back towards the Gordon family, perhaps he could take out at least a few of them before Jim finished him off. At least the boy if nothing else, but then his leg buckled as he turned. He tried to catch himself on the wall but the pain stabbed again in his chest and he folded to the ground. Running wasn’t an option this time.
Footsteps behind him. Had the cop already gotten out of the car? Had he heard or seen something suspicious? The grim image of half a man collapsing in an alleyway? Either way it didn’t really matter now. Harvey shakily went for his coin in his coat pocket. How was this going to end? The footsteps were moving closer behind him, more assuredly this time as Harvey flipped his coin.
Heads. Dammit. Harvey closed his eye and waited for the shocked exclamation behind him, waited for the handcuffs and humiliation of being so close to victory again, and once again having it snatched from him.
“Tsk, tsk, now this won’t do.”
Harvey turned slowly. He recognized that voice.
“I thought you were gonna be killing them! Not the other way around.” The Joker stood behind him dressed in a rather messy police uniform, one of his wrists bound with handcuffs, and a sly look in his mischievous eyes.
Harvey sighed. He did not need the clown right now. Him being here may possibly be worse than the police, especially if he decided to finish the job this time. “That was the idea.”
Joker grinned, his scars and faded makeup making his mouth look even larger as the blue lights continued to flash behind him. Harvey stood up slowly, using the wall for leverage. The police uniform was far too large for him, and the shirt was un-tucked on one side where a particularly large blood splatter made it look dyed. On his left shoulder, Harvey could see three embedded objects that looked like tiny knives. The trickles of blood they made striped down the length of the uniform. “So ya need a lift, Harv-ey?” The clown gestured behind him to the waiting car.
Harvey nodded slightly and started staggering over to the vehicle as Joker smiled broadly, barely suppressing a laugh and hopping back into the driver’s seat. Harvey dropped into the passenger’s seat, his chest still aching but feeling much better off his feet. Joker backed out of the abandoned police car perimeter the same way he’d entered. His posture was huddled still but his eyes darted back and forth looking for any sign of danger. Almost as if he was daring them.
---- Part 2
Harvey wasn’t quite sure when he dozed off. He fell in and out of consciousness as if his head were bobbing in and out water. Voices drifted in and out, some he recognized and others he didn’t. At one point he remembered having to concentrate very hard to get his feet moving as he leaned against a shorter, skinny man who kept trying to hold back outright laughter. Then he was lying down. He wasn’t sure how he knew that because he didn’t recall stretching out anywhere, but someone was shining a bright pen light in his bad eye. He couldn’t refrain from jumping as he stared into the eyes of an older woman.
“….head is……”
Were her lips moving? He couldn’t tell for some reason. He felts his eyelid getting heavy again as he prepared to fall back to sleep. It was only when he felt the all too familiar prick in his arm that he started to panic. It was the hospital all over again, getting poked and prodded and stuck by every curious doctor in Gotham. By instinct he reached over and attempted to pull the IV from his arm, attempted to remove the cruel device. Normally Harvey would’ve understood why it was needed, why he couldn’t stay awake. He would’ve been unnerved by it, but he would’ve given in. But Harvey was completely irrational at the moment. The fall from the two story building had granted him a mild concussion, broken ribs, among other as yet unknown injuries. But all his shocked mind could fathom at the moment was the stinging pain in his arm and what it might mean. He was being drugged, put under so he couldn’t unnerve them anymore. Placed cleanly out of the way and therefore out of mind. He wouldn’t allow them to restrain him again, just to put their pathetic fearful minds at ease.
He gripped the needle and started trying to pull. He was at an angle though, and was pulling it the wrong direction. A trickle of blood appeared beside it, and he let out a grunt of annoyance. Why couldn’t he get his hands and his eyes to line up properly? Then other hands were clasping his; pale, thin fingers wrapped around his own clumsy ones, the pasty white makeup dried and crusted under his fingernails.
“Let it go, Harv. I won’t let them take you again. Let it go.”
Harvey’s grip let go of the needle, though his eyes were transfixed by it and the trailing blood beside it.
“Good, good, Harv. I knew you’d listen to your best pal.” Black lined eyes met his as Joker nodded vigorously, his greasy green mop hair bouncing up and down, and that grotesque grin splattered across his face.
“N’my…. pal...” Harvey groaned, feeling the woman’s hands on his arm as she reaffixed the needle. He didn’t care at the moment though, Harvey’s eyes were watching Joker’s. The clown reached out a hand to stroke Harvey’s ruined flesh, though really there was little flesh left to ruin. He trailed his chalky fingertips over the unusual gaps and crevices of muscle and bone, his coal black eyes gazing at Harvey’s scarred face as if it were a perfect work of art.
“Oh but I am, Harv…. I’m your pal.” Joker leaned in close, almost touching noses. “Possibly the only one you’ve got right now.” His voice had taken on that taunting nasal tone, and Harvey couldn’t tell if he was mocking him or not. But then the drugs started kicking in, and Harvey felt his eye start to close.
“Nighty-night, Harv! Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you….” He made a wide, close-lipped smile, the lipstick making it look like his wounds were just made yesterday. “Trust me!”
When he’d been dozing between consciousness and sleep earlier, he’d been fortunate enough not to have to worry about dreaming. In fact, when Harvey Dent was still just Harvey, he’d made a decision to try to refrain from having to dream as much as possible. First of all, he didn’t get much sleep as it was. Between all the press conferences, studying up for the next case, and dealing with frequent threats on his life, there really wasn’t much time or desire to sleep. He felt too exposed, too vulnerable. Harvey had experienced a form of night terrors through much of his young adulthood, using the resulting insomnia to fuel his law degree pursuits. When he got older, he had to get more sleep, and so turned to prescription medicines to keep the night demons at bay. However, the drugs that kept him under this time weren’t meant to keep dreams away, so just as before they flooded Harvey’s mind en masse. Except this time, he couldn’t force himself to wake from them.
It was nighttime again, it was always nighttime in his dreams. He was walking along the sidewalk that he’d known since he was a child. He watched his feet, smaller than they were these days, crossing the familiar pavement. He knew what was coming. That was the problem, he always knew what was coming in these things.
At least you’re not completely alone this time.
That’s true, Harvey thought. It could be much worse. It could be like it was the first time… Then Harvey looked up to see he was already home. Had home been that close to the drug store back then? He thought back to when he left work, locking the glass door for the night and switching the Closed sign. After that, his memory between work and here seemed to blurry to remember, but his feet were leading him up to the door anyway. Harvey never wondered if he should or shouldn’t open the door this time, in fact that was the single decision that always seemed easy. As much as he didn’t want to see it, as much as his heart was racing in his chest right now, he knew he had to. It was simply the proper thing to do.
The door swung open and he was greeted with a familiar sight, one that made his stomach feel cold and the breath catch in his throat. He ought to be used to this. This wasn’t anything new…
But you still remember what they were like. We both do.
Harvey looked up at his mother’s pale face, eyes bulging and tongue slightly askew from her thin lips. Her simple dress was hanging almost as delicately as she was from the ceiling fan. Her neck was at an odd angle, almost as if she was expecting him home and was prepared to barrage him for his tardiness. Beneath her at Harvey’s feet lay his father, his brains still moist and shining upon the back of his blond head. His eyes were open too, almost as if he’d had a wonderful idea.
It can’t be much of one with that big-ass hole.
Felt himself start breathing again. He closed the door back slowly, wishing his hands would stop shaking already, and placed his jacket back in the coat closet. He had to call the police, he always had to. But in this dream, time never moved as it should. So just as Harvey was walking toward the phone, he was suddenly watching the cop on the ladder, taking pictures of his mother’s bulging face with a flash bulb. They were taping off around his father’s corpse and examining the pool of blood and brains that surrounded him. They bagged the gun, quickly and efficiently. Dad had been one of their own after all.
A woman was talking to him incessantly, many high pitched tones and questioning gazes fixed on him. Harvey didn’t say much, he just grunted yes or no depending on what she wanted to hear. They were pulling his mother down now, her dead weight and the unbalanced fan were giving them problems. It took four of them total to accomplish it.
You know, she couldn’t have gotten up there on her own.
Harvey shrugged, you can’t be so sure. People can do lots of things if they’re angry enough.
Yeah, but do you think she was angry? She never acted like it. He’s the one that kept hitting her.
Harvey’s gaze fell down to his father again. The proud man huddled into a bloody heap on the floor beneath her feet. He’d always beaten her, ever since Harvey could remember. And how he would’ve hated being seen at her feet like this, as though he was somehow beneath her.
But still, you know I’m right. She couldn’t get up that high not without help. And where would she have jumped from, Harvey? The sky? I’m telling you, he’s the one that did it. A fucking murder suicide, the bastard. And after she dealt with him living across town with that whore for so long…
Exactly why she could’ve done it. She had it in her, dad had always called her “one of those”, whatever the hell that had meant…
And then the bodies were gone. The police had vanished just as quickly as they’d appeared, and Harvey was left by himself again. He checked his watch, 2 AM. Jesus, it was always 2 AM in this dream…
Must be your favorite time of the day!
Blow me.
I would, but would that be considered incest or narcissism? I know what a stickler you are about laws…
Dammit, wasn’t this bad enough to have to live over and over again without your voice stuck in my mind?
Would you rather have silence? I thought you’d gotten enough of that here. Silence at home, silence at school, silence even at work. Not really anyplace to go without silence if you ask me.
Harvey sat down in his father’s chair. It was going to be a long, cold night.
Hey, don’t blame me. For once, I didn’t do it.
---- Part 3
Harvey’s dream started to fade away and get darker as he became aware of movement around him. As the darkness surrounded the empty living room and the bloodstained floor, he started focusing on a dim light that appeared in the center of his vision. It seemed very far away, but the longer he stared at it, the brighter it seemed to get. It started out as only a pinprick then grew brighter and brighter until he was able to identify what it was: A lamp. It was a weird purple color, vibrant against the dingy gray paint on the wall. The lamp shade was teetering on top of the bulb beneath, as if it didn’t quite fit. Harvey tried to blink, but then remembered that he no longer had a lid on that eye, so he opened the other just to make sure it wasn’t part of his dream.
He heard what sounded like a restrained squeal from his left, and slowly he turned his head to face the noise. Joker was standing there, hands clasped in mock adoration. His face gleamed in the lamp’s light, and judging by the reapplied make-up, he looked better than he had before. His greasy green hair though still resembled the comb that had gone through it probably just a few minutes ago, and old smudges of blood were patched across his t-shirt. The shirt was probably white at one point, but now it more resembled a butcher’s smock especially with the gleaming grin of the Guns n Roses skeleton. The cheerful skull looked almost as happy as the clown. Still, Harvey had to admit he preferred the low hanging jeans and bloody shirt to the cop uniform earlier. He just didn’t want to think about the police right now.
“Oh Harv, ya finally woke up! Here I was thinking you were gonna sleep - for daaaays.” Joker flung his arm back as if to show just how long that really was. It was strange to see him moving like a regular person. Somehow it just didn’t seem to fit properly on him. Now that Harvey didn’t have the constant pain in his chest, he felt as though he could think clearer.
The first time he’d seen the Joker was on the black and white video tapes from security cameras and on the “clown terrorist” tapes that were broadcast on the six o’clock news. He was frightening to Harvey then, like some kind of Blair Witch Project creature lurking just out of sight to hide its grotesque form. He seemed uncontrollable and unpredictable, just the wrong combination that Gotham couldn’t handle.
Then Commissioner Loeb was killed followed by Judge Serillo. The city had flown into chaos, and it seemed like every policeman in Gotham had lost all reason and any form of bravery they might have had. The people were screaming for blood, for Batman’s blood. Harvey had to do something, the idiot vigilante was going to throw himself to the wolves and leave the city completely unprotected. When Harvey stood before the press and claimed to be the Bat, he’d taken the city’s shock and insults with a smile - one he’d perfected during his campaign. The city just didn’t know what was best for it, and even though Harvey knew he was taking a dangerous gamble, he had no choice but to trust in his instincts to save Gotham.
The intensity of the squad car shooting gallery had surprised him. He’d expected the Joker to take the bait certainly, but he had underestimated how much artillery and tactical knowledge the Joker had at his fingertips. Harvey had a sinking feeling when he stepped into the squad car, still flush from his kiss with Rachael, only to find himself sitting awkwardly across from a fully armored guard with a rifle. The rocket-powered grenade, as Gordon had informed him later, had been the thunderous roar that had knocked him into the opposite seat. From that point on, Harvey had clutched the slippery seats as best he could, trying to prevent himself from being slung side to side like a sack doll.
When the vehicle had finally stopped, Harvey had just stared at the side of the car, waiting for a final blast from some giant bazooka. After a few moments, it was the terrified guard that had broken the silence. “D-do you think it’s over?”
Harvey hadn’t answered. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, but he knew waiting wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He’d heard a commotion outside behind the vehicle, and as he’d been trying to figure out if he could open the door from the inside, it had flung open on its own. Gordon’s smiling face had been the last thing he’d expected to see.
In the end, Harvey had survived, like he always seemed to do. But more importantly, he finally got to see the clown for the first time in person. He couldn’t get very close, the police would never allow it after they’d lost so many officers in the chase, but Harvey did see the man as he was led into a different armored car, arms and legs chained. The two of them had locked eyes, and the chaos and unpredictability Harvey had expected to see there was replaced by the cool, calculating gaze of a man who had nothing to lose. Thinking back on it now, Harvey foolishly realized they’d grossly underestimated the clown. Harvey, Gordon, even the Bat - they’d all thought the Joker wasn’t much of a threat. Staring at this kid in the grungy band shirt - it was hard to realize this was the same person.
Harvey pushed himself to a sitting position, grinding his teeth against the vertigo that ensued. Whatever drugs he’d been given were still pretty fresh in his system. “What?” his mouth felt like it was stuffed with a handful of dried leaves. “What did you do….?” His tongue didn’t want to cooperate, but he hoped his words were audible. He turned to the left again to find that Joker was no longer there. He blinked, his mind still too slow to catch up with so much energy.
“You know what cleans out all the drugs, Harv-ey?” His voice was echoing from the hallway amid a mingling of the clang of pots and pans. What the hell was he doing? Harvey had images of all kinds of weapons and torture methods that he might pull out. He was certainly disabled at the moment, and he’d make an easy target.
“Excuse me?” Harvey called, as he looked around the room for something he might use as a weapon. A pile of newspapers in the corner that looked almost as old as the paint on the walls, the bottom ones were mildewed and sticking to the wooden floor. A small wooden desk sat nearby with multicolored post-it notes stuck all over the flat desktop. Beside him there was a night stand with a bowl of reddish water and a washcloth hanging out of it. He eyed it curiously, had the Joker really been playing nurse maid with him? He thought of the nurse outfit Joker had donned in the hospital. Maybe this was some kind of creepy kink?
Joker came back into the room, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. He held in his hands a rusty cooking pan he was using as a makeshift bed tray. On top was a bowl of multi-colored cereal with so much milk that it was spattering along the brown and orange pan beneath. Harvey had to refrain from smirking.
“Why some fruity-fruity Fruit Loops!” Joker’s smile widened, the scars at the corners of his mouth looking as if they’d split if he tried any more. Harvey stared at him in disbelief. His eyes darted between the cheerfully colored bowl and the clown’s large grin. Images of Commissioner Loeb came unwillingly to mind - poisoned in his own office, collapsing in a corner with blood and foam oozing from his mouth, with Gordon’s voice whispering, “How the hell that clown slipped acid into his glass is anyone’s guess.”
Harvey stared into Joker’s eyes, “I don’t like cereal.”
Joker blinked, “What? Don’t like cereal? What kind of crazy person are you?!” Joker stuck out his lips in a pout and was eyeing the bowl in annoyance.
“I’m uh,” Harvey swallowed hard, trying to get control over his galloping heart.
Just tell him to fuck off. He’s trying to bump you off now that you’re weak.
No, if Joker had wanted to kill him he could’ve done it earlier. No, he had to play this smart. Harvey didn’t wonder at the fact that this was the first time he’d heard this other voice outside of his dreams. He didn’t worry at the fact that he was now having a mental conversation with himself. In fact, he was rather glad to have someone to discuss this with.
He’ll think you owe him if you kiss his ass, Harvey. You know that.
“What’s wrong, Harv? Cat got your tongue?” Joker’s eyes seemed darker now, as if he expected Dent to suddenly make a run for it. “You uh, you got something you wanna tell me, Harv?” His voice was metallic.
“I’m lactose intolerant.” Harvey croaked, swallowing again as he watched Joker’s reaction intently.
It took less than a minute, but to Harvey’s eyes it seemed like a scene in slow motion out of an action film. The Joker burst into a fit of laughter, tipping the already warped pan too far so that the bowl of brightly colored cereal landed upside down with a wet shlooop! onto the floor.
Joker stared at him for a few moments, his face frozen in a smile and his black eyeliner streaking in tears. Then he burst into another fit of laughter, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Oh Harv, I knew you had it in ya! Hahaha! Oh man, I knew there was a reason I liked ya so much, Harv-eey.” He made a smacking sound with his lips and before Harvey knew what was happening, Joker had crawled onto the bed with him. He positioned himself so he was straddling Harvey’s legs, his arms crossed along Harvey’s chest as he stared Dent down, a smile pulling at his lips.
“You know Harv, I know funny when I see it, and you’re…” His dark eyes drifted over to Harvey’s scars, his eyes narrowing as he licked his blood-red lips, “You’re definitely something more than funny. I think I uh, I think I like ya, Harv-eey.” He made a chewing motion with his lips again, his eyes taking in Harvey’s face with excitement.
Harvey studied him carefully, he could feel himself pulling back to let this other Harvey, this darker Harvey, take over. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again his breathing was calmer, his heartbeat was more controlled.
Dammit, he’s gonna kill me right here and now, I just know it. Not that it really matters any more.
“Then let me take care of it,” Dent’s voice came out an octave lower than his regular voice, with a deep gritty tinge to it that caught the Joker’s attention.
Who the hell are you?
“Just call me Harv, kid.” Harv smiled. He hadn’t realized he was talking out loud, but he had never really come out fully before. Controlling a body was very different from speaking from inside Dent’s head it seemed.
“Umm, what are you talking about, Harv-eey? And who the hell are you calling a kid?” Joker’s eyes narrowed as his demeanor grew darker. He was watching Dent with a mixture of curiosity and outrage, and Harv took a deep breath before addressing him.
“What do you want with me, clown?”
Joker’s smile widened, as he made that strange hyena laughter in the back of his throat, “What do I want from you?!” He screamed into Harvey’s face, his left hand gripping Harvey’s hair. Harv refrained from wincing. He knew any sign of fear and the Joker would just lap it up. Instead Harvey simply set his jaw and maintained his gaze. Joker stared at him silently for a moment before continuing in a calmer voice, releasing Dent’s hair and sliding his hand down to the man’s chest. “What does every psychopath with my credentials want, Harv? It is Harv, right?”
Harv nodded slowly, “You want to kill the Bat.”
“No, no, no,” Joker was shaking his head, his hand toying with the buttons on Dent’s dress shirt. “I used to wanna kill ‘im, but I dunno Harv. I think this town’d be awfully boring without him.” His eyes returned to meet Dent’s, “I don’t want that. I don’t like being bored, Harv.”
Harv chuckled, “I think I can understand that. Now get the fuck off me.” His smile faded as he glared at the clown.
Joker grinned, stroking at Harv’s scars - the wrapped muscle, the slightly exposed bone, and the raw texture. “But I like ya, Harv. I don’t wanna go!” He smiled seductively.
“Well at least I warned you,” Harv whispered. Then he put both hands on the clown’s chest and shoved him, hard. Joker flew off the bed, his eyes wide. He landed on his back on the wooden floor, knocking aside the moldy newspapers.
“Owwwww,” Joker whined as he got to his feet. “That kinda hurt, Harv.” His voice was whimsical, but his eyes were dark.
Harv pulled himself out of bed too quickly and the dizziness overwhelmed him. “Aaah,” he groaned as he flung his arm out to keep his balance. He grabbed onto the night stand, the bowl of water wobbling slightly. Then a large force shoved into him and he was on the floor face down.
“Get the fuck off me, clown!” Harv growled as Joker pinned his arms beneath his knees. His chest was burning again, and his head ached, but he didn’t care about that right now. He had to prove himself to this bastard, and if he got killed in the process, well that was just how it was going to be.
What the hell are you doing? Is this what you call handling him?!
Oh jeez, the DA was getting his panties in a wad. Harv knew he had a better chance of preventing this clown from killing them, but explaining his logic to Harvey simply wasn’t going to happen. The guy was freaking out more than Harv was used to. Typically Harv didn’t have to take a step out like this. Typically Harvey was able to handle the hard times on his own. But ever since that Rachael chick died, it was like he’d just cracked under the pressure.
You know I can hear you? How dare you talk about Rachel like that!
Harv smiled. It looks like the two of them were gonna have to learn to live with each other… somehow. He felt the clown leaning toward him again, his green hair draping close to his bad eye.
“Oh Harv,” Joker leaned down, licking at the scars on Dent’s cheek. “You’re really hot when you’re angry…”
Harv growled, trying his best to force the clown off his back, but Joker just leaned forward pinning his arms tighter until Harv grunted in pain. Joker leaned down and released the weight on Dent’s arms a bit, whispering into the nub that used to be his ear. “I like ya, Harv, I like ya a lot. But I don’t wanna fight ya, babe! You and me, crazies like us gotta stick together.” Joker lapped at his ear, his warm, wet tongue making circles around Harvey’s ear hole.
Harv had stopped struggling; even with his anger boiling he couldn’t suppress the shudder that went through him. His skin was still too sensitive, and of course the clown had done his homework. “I-“ he shuddered again as Joker started licking at his raw cheek bone, “We don’t like you.”
Jesus, thank you for at least acknowledging my existence! Harv could see the DA pacing back and forth in the back of his mind.
“Aww, Harv that hurts! I said I was sorry about that whole business - I mean, I was gonna let ya kill me and everything. You know how many cops would just love to get a shot at me.” He snickered into Harv’s hair, leaning his forehead into the back of Dent’s head.
Harv sighed, “You’ve got a good point. You oughta be glad you’re a lucky guy.”
A good point? He doesn’t have a good point! He’s a fucking psycho!
Joker returned to licking at Harv’s face again, “Ya gotta admit, Harv, at least you know who your real enemies are now.” Joker growled, his hot breath against Harv’s face, “And it looks like I’m the only pal you got left.” Joker’s laughter was bubbling up again, his body shaking as he leaned against Harv’s back.
Harv knew this wasn’t entirely true. Watching the annoyed little DA glaring at him from within his mind, he knew he had another ally, even if he didn’t entirely approve of him. Regardless though, he felt that this was the beginning of something new for both of them. Together the three of them might just make something of this fucked up little town.
Harv watched the Joker with a mixture of fascination and frustration. On one hand, he couldn’t stand the clown. He was arrogant and ridiculous, not to mention the fact that he had a severe lack of dress sense. But as Joker leaned down to nip at Dent’s half-head of hair with his teeth, Harv was careful to note how strong Joker was. He smiled a bit to realize that he’d underestimated him much as Harvey had. The clown was definitely more than what he seemed.
Yeah I guess he is. Harvey sighed from within his mind, raking a hand through his hair.
Harv knew that Harvey was more than a little curious about where this would lead. The two of them weren’t that different after all. So they’d humor the clown - at least for a little while. Hell, the two of them certainly didn’t have much left to lose. They certainly didn’t seem to be getting rid of each other any time soon, and they sure as hell weren’t afraid of dying. Besides, they liked to take chances. Where was the fun if you didn’t?
~Fin