#implied child abuse
Villain’s Rescue Interlude: Sidekick’s nightmare
[A/N: I know you’re all waiting for the reunion, and trust me I am too! I’ve been busy, though, and I had this Hero chapter already mostly written.
This is directly inspired by @whumpy-arts-and-crafts ’s lovely fanart.]
Tagging:@whumpsday@pumpkin-spice-whump-latte@octopus-reactivated@fanastyfinder@whumpy-arts-and-crafts@arsonfrogger@burtlederp@harri-00
MASTERLIST
CWs:implied child abuse, parental death, manipulation
Hero sighed as he finally came home. Christ, those attacks had been a hassle to deal with. And afterwards he wasn’t even able to go home straight away, of course. No, first he’d had those damn press conferences to assure the public that Villain couldn’t possibly be on the loose again. It was just a copycat, nothing more.
He kicked off his boots and, with heavy legs, dragged himself up the stairs. He’ll go check on Villain tomorrow morning, maybe release some of his frustration on him. Right now, he just wanted to go to bed. The serum that had given him super strength was quickly leaving his system, and taking all his energy with it. He’d need to get horizontal soon if he didn’t want to collapse in the hallway.
As he stumbled past Sidekick’s room, holding the wall to keep upright, he heard something that made him pauze. He didn’t even register what it was he’d heard, his feet just stopped in their tracks. But then he heard it again. Was Sidekick crying? It was the middle of the night, what was he still doing up?
Hero opened the bedroom door. Blinking though his swimming vision, Hero saw the kid curled up on his bed, his bandaged arm pressed tight to him. His red hair covered part of his tight-knit brows. Though his eyes were closed in sleep, he was whimpering and flinching mutedly.
With every second, Hero felt himself inching closer to a crash. Yet, he still shuffled inside and sat down on the bed. He brushed some of Sidekick’s short hair from his forehead.
“Hey, kiddo,” he murmured. “It’s all a dream, it’s alright.”
At the touch, he merely flinched and didn’t wake up. Something in Hero’s heart twinged at the sight. The kid started muttering something. He couldn’t make out the words, but through the sleepy monotone, he could tell it was an apology of sorts. He took Sidekick’s shoulder and shook gently.
“Sidekick. Wake up, bud.”
With a gasp and a start, Sidekick shot upright. He blinked, and gazed at Hero with wide glassy eyes.
“Hero! No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don’t-!” he stammered, clearly still with one foot in the dream.
Hero sighed, and scooted a bit closer. He put his arm around his charge, pulling him closer.
“C’mere. It was just a nightmare, you’re okay.” His own speech was growing a bit slurred from his exhaustion.
Though Sidekick struggled a bit with sleep-heavy limbs, he was soon leaning against Hero’s chest. For a second, he stayed frozen, before Hero’s comforting rubs on his back made him relax a touch.
Hero smiled. It had been a while since he helped Sidekick through a nightmare like this. When he’d been just a scrawny 12 year old, he’d often woken him up with screaming in the middle of the night. The dreams were about fire, about his parents, about Villain. Hero never punished him for waking him up. No, instead, he’d hold the preteen in his arms until he fell back asleep. It wasn’t any trouble for him, and the kid was always so sweet afterwards. And now, even though he was nearly grown and Hero was so very tired, he’d do the same. Maybe the tiredness was making him nostalgic.
He could tell Sidekick was still tense against him. His heart beat so fast and hard, Hero could feel it through his back. He moved his hand up to ruffle his hair.
“It was just a bad dream, kid. D’you wanna talk about it?”
Some of his lower city accent was slipping out. When was the last time he’d even used the serum? For all the training he’d put Sidekick through, he himself had been slacking.
Sidekick’s stammered words still spilled out.
“No, I-I was falling, and he was there, and you were too, and I was going to hit the ground and die. I was going to fall, and I tried to tell you sorry, but-” he stopped himself, shuddering a bit at the memory. Hero sushed him.
“It’s okay, bud. You’re fine.”
The kid turned quiet, and they just sat in the dark room a while. Hero had to confess, this was nice. He should hug him more often.
“I’ve been hard on you lately, haven’t I?” he mused.
He felt Sidekick hold his breath, and he sushed him again.
“You don’t have to answer, it’s alright. I guess we both could have done things differently, huh? It’s been a tough year. But we’re still buddies, ain’t we?”
Sidekick nodded against his chest. He smiled, fondly. God, the exhaustion really was making him sappy. His eyes were fluttering closed, when Sidekick’s soft voice pulled him awake again.
“Did.. Did you check on Villain yet?”
Hero hummed and shook his head. “Nah, ‘ll do it in the morning. D’ya-” He had to interrupt his sentence with a yawn. “Christ, I need to get used to the serum again… bet I’ll have a headache tomorrow. Anyway, you want warm milk or something?”
Why wasn’t Sidekick relaxing? He was still so tense, even though the nightmare must have faded by now. Had he really been so hard on him, that he couldn’t be at ease again? Well, Hero supposed he could be kinder and gentler. If only the kid wouldn’t make him lose his temper again, that should be doable.
“No, I think we should both sleep, Hero,” his ward said quietly. He chuckled.
“A’ight, that’s fair. I can hear my bed calling me down the hallway.”
He broke the embrace and helped Sidekick get settled back in bed. The kid seemed nervous, still. He wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
Did Hero mess up? He wanted the kid to like him. It would be a shame if he spend all this time and effort in raising him, only to break his trust in an attempt to control him better. It was Villain’s fault for wurming his way into his head.
He tucked Sidekick in and, in a bout of tired nostalgic fondness, pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Y’re a good kid, Sidekick,” he said softly. Did he see that correctly, and did the kid’s turn eyes wetter than usual?
“Y-yeah,” his voice tremored a bit. “I’ll see you.. tomorrow, Hero. In the morning.” There was a shiver running through his body, and the tears in his eyes became bigger.
“Please, remember that I do love- I-I like when you’re nice to me.”
Hero smiled. Not his practiced toothpaste-commerical grin, nor his meanspirited smirk. Instead, it was a bit crooked and made him look softer, somehow.
“I’ll keep it in mind, sonny. Sleep well.”
No. 11 - JUST KEEP SWIMMING
adrift | drowning | dehydration
Family holidays were still weird for Harrison. He supposed it was also a bit for Fao, too, but he’d settled in a lot better. After all, he’d been adopted almost straight away. Fao would often return from uni to join them as Finn got older, and enjoyed the time away. As Finn’s seizures started to settle, him slowly gaining more control over them, they began to venture further afield again.
Harrison had been staying at the Daniels’ while he tried to get back on his feet. Sheila had helped him enrol in college, and had started him back on the straight and narrow. He’d been working so hard while he stayed with them, that it was only natural to invite him along, especially since Fao and Hars had settled their differences.
They’d hired a caravan by the sea for a few weeks, far enough away to be a holiday, but close enough to a major hospital as a just in case. While both Fao and Harrison were old enough to be left to their own devices, Finn still had to be watched, and often carefully. With Sheila and Fred wanting an afternoon to themselves, it was up to the boys to keep an eye on him. It was a rarity that Sheila and Fred got any time alone, so they were set to make the most of it, a nice meal after a while exploring.
Finn had pestered and pestered everyone to take him swimming. Mainly, he just wanted to dick around with the floats and go down the slides more than actually swim, but he had to get them there first.
After a bit of reluctance, they finally gave in. Harrison wasn’t keen; he’d had bad experiences, and he wasn’t the strongest of swimmers either. They needed both of them there, though. It wouldn’t be the first time Finn had seized in a pool.
While Fao and Finn chased each other back and forth, hurtling balls at each other’s heads (Finn never learned), Harrison stayed away from it. He took a while to relax, finally sliding in from the side and floating around in a ring while he kept an eye on the two of them. After a while and too much of Finn’s insistence, he joined in. As long as he didn’t have to get his hair wet, he’d be fine.
It was actually fun, once he’d let himself go a bit. Finn’s energy was contagious, and Harrison actually found himself laughing along with the other two. It was nice to be part of a family, to have siblings of sorts and no responsibilities He tired quickly though, returning to stand by the side of the pool, floating on his stomach and just watching the world go by.
Fao was enjoying himself, away from the stresses of uni. He was able to spend time with his family, Harrison was a bonus, and he always enjoyed holidays. The weather was good, Sheila and Fred were in a good mood, and Finn was able to enjoy himself.
They’d been messing about for a while when Harrison took a break, and after a few minutes giving him some space, Fao made his way over.
“Hey. You alright?”
“Just tired.”
“God, tell me about it. Don’t know where Finn gets the energy from.”
“He’s all over the place.”
“Hard to believe he was in hospital.”
“Think he’s an alien.”
“Superhuman.”
“Nah, definitely an alien.”
“You’re probably right.”
Harrison flinched as Finn threw a ball at the pair of them, screwing his face up as he was splashed. “Think your highness wants your attention.”
Fao turned away, frowning. “Finn! What have I told you about throwing stuff at us?!”
“You’re being boring!” Finn called. “Come play!”
“We’re taking a break because we’re old!”
“You can go, I’m okay.” Harrison told him.
“Sure?”
“Yeah, course.”
Fao flashed him a smile and turned away to Finn, his younger brother still busy causing chaos with seemingly endless amounts of energy.
Harrison smiled at the pair, happy to keep his distance and just watch. He was reaching his limit of being in the water, his fingers starting to prune and the smell of chlorine getting too overwhelming. The lifeguard’s whistle made him jump and instinctively turn to see what was happening. He caught the float out the corner of his eye, but he was too late to move out of the way.
The hit disorientated him immediately, knocking him off his own float. The water was too deep for him to stand and he went straight under. He couldn’t breathe. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t even try, but he naturally and desperately gasped for air. Water filled his lungs and he coughed and choked, only succeeding in taking in more water.
His hands scrabbled to try and get himself above water, but his mind was already elsewhere. He was going to die. He could hear his parents shouting at him, feel their hands around his wrists and throat, pushing him under. He choked again. More water. Another hit. They’d normally have let him up, but there was no sign of stopping. He was going to die.
It was as soon as Fao turned to Finn that all hell broke loose. There was shouting, and splashing, and someone kicked out into his leg. He whipped back around just in time to see Harrison go down under the surface.
“Finn! Stay put, kid!” He called to his brother, and then turned back to the chaos. Harrison hadn’t surfaced yet. Why hadn’t he surfaced? It was taking too long, far too long. A quick glance around told him nobody was coming quick enough, and so he took a deep breath and went under himself.
He found Harrison easily, writhing and choking under the water, and grabbed him. It was difficult, there were still people everywhere, but he hauled him up to the surface and over to the side, his own chest heaving.
Harrison fought against the hands holding him in blind panic, kicking and scratching in an attempt to get free. He coughed and retched against the air, struggling to get a breath in. With his struggling, he slipped back under for a moment, immediately taking in more water.
He was heavy when he was panicking, and Fao groaned. He pushed on, though, hauling Harrison up further to keep his head above the water.
It was hard work, harder than Fao had expected it to be, but Harrison was a dead weight. He shouted at people to move, eventually reaching the side of the pool, which he was bloody grateful for.
The lifeguards had finally jumped into action, and met Fao at the side. Despite Harrison’s fighting, they quickly hauled him out of the pool and onto the side. He barely had the energy to keep himself propped up, his whole body trembling. He continued to retch and gag, bringing up the water he’d inhaled. His arm gave out from under him, and he sprawled on the deck again.
Fao shot the lifeguards a look, not exactly happy with how long it had taken them to help out.
“It’s alright, Harrison. You’re alright now.” Fao soothed, helping him to stay upright. “That’s it, get it up.”
Harrison grabbed onto Fao, his nails digging into his skin. He choked again, bringing up more water. It was almost worse than being underwater. Somehow he was still drowning.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you, it’s gonna be okay.” Fao murmured, rubbing his back.
“Does he have any medical conditions? Did he hit his head?” The lifeguard asked from beside Fao, his radio ready.
“Nothing relevant, and I don’t know. He’ll need an ambulance, I’m a med student. He ought to be checked.”
“We’re just calling one now. Did you see what happened?”
“No, just what happened after.”
Exhausted, Harrison let himself fully flop onto Fao. He continued coughing, though not much was coming up. The fight had drained from him, all the adrenaline he’d had from the panic long gone.
“It’s alright, just breathe.” Fao soothed.
Finn, of course, couldn’t be left out. He wormed his way through the small crowd surrounding Fao and Hars, kneeling next to his big brother. “Fao?”
“It’s alright, Finn. Hars just got caught under the water, he’s okay.”
He looked up at Fao, worry etched onto his face. “Is he going to die?”
“No, no. He’s okay.”
Harrison flinched at the foil blanket placed over him, trying to get away with what little he had left.
Finn screwed his face at the mess on the floor surrounding Harrison, but carefully moved closer. “You’re okay. It’s keeping you warm, right?”
“Finn’s right. Just to keep you warm, Hars.”
He slowly stretched out his hand to take Harrison’s. “You’re okay. We’re here.”
Arthur Fleck x Original Female Character | Joker AU
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⁕
The diner turned out to be a quirky, colourful little space, tucked away between two of the many hulking skyscrapers Gotham had to offer. It was one of the first family-run businesses Wanda had seen in a long time, since the city was largely dominated by corporate-owned restaurant chains nowadays.
They were greeted upon entering by the glow of blue-ish fluorescent lights on the ceiling, that were an especially comfortable change to the dark alleyway, and a friendly older woman, who was wiping down one of the square tables near the entrance.
Arthur sat down to her left after they decided to take up a corner booth right next to a large window overlooking the busy evening streets, his eyes diverted downwards to the white wooden table. They had both started meagre attempts at small-talk on the way, and he’d made her laugh once or twice with some borderline morbid jokes, which she’d found surprisingly funny, but the atmosphere between them still felt very awkward.
A young waitress, that Wanda believed to be the daughter of the older woman, came to deliver them their coffees and a warm smile. Arthur nodded at the lady politely, before his hands came to rest around his steaming cup and he turned his attention back to Wanda.
"So… you’re not from here, are you?“ His hesitance made her smile, and she could feel her heartbeat quicken as she looked up into his eyes, noticing their colour for the first time.
They were green, the kind of bright green that fought through heaps of melting snow to remind you that spring was coming, sparkling in the neon lights like fresh dew on the grass in the morning.
Wanda found herself staring for just a moment too long, and the blush seared through her cheeks so fast she could’ve sworn her face was on fire.
"Oh, t-the accent? Surprised, you didn’t ask earlier. I’m from s-southern England, originally.” She fiddled with the sugar packet and could see him out of the corner of her eye tilting his head slightly after she finished, like a curious dog.
“Then what brought you here?” To this shitshow of a city? Arthur gestured to the window behind him, and she followed his indication.
The darkness was falling over the city like a dark veil, the light grey sky slowly but surely transforming it into an ocean of velvety blackness, only broken up by the warmly lit-up windows lining the sky-high buildings. People were passing the grimy window of the diner, some rushing past, some sauntering along and some just calmly wandering the streets.
“I…” Wanda struggled a bit, the topic of her family being something that she was still fairly uncomfortable talking about. “I… My d-d-dad was American, he was actually b-born in Gotham.” She took a shuddering breath and tried to concentrate on individual faces passing by, distractions usual helping her stutter, which, for some reason, was worse today than it had been in a long time.
"My parents met while he was over in England on a b-business trip, and they had me shortly after. They split up eventually a c-couple of years ago, and he moved back here.“
A group of businessmen walked past, the oncoming darkness making it seem like their expensive black suits were blending right into the Gotham-typical mountains of shiny trashbags behind them, and Wanda had to smile for a moment, realising the irony of her thought. We’re the trash, not them.
"And you went with him?”
“No, I stayed in England. W-well, originally, I did. But then he got sick and needed help, and I came here.”
The men had left, and she now observed a young couple standing by the bus stop just outside, his arm draped loosely across her bare shoulders as they waited in the cold. Their breaths were rising in visible puffs through the crisp air above them, blending in with the neverending cigarette smoke drifting through the city.
“He wasn’t a good dad, hit us and all that, but he was still my dad…”
The jarring sound of a fork clattering onto the black and white tile floor of the diner brought Wanda back to reality, and she realised what she’d just said out loud.
“Fuck, I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She straightened up instinctively as if she was getting ready to leave, and lifted her fingers up to loosely cover her mouth in embarrassment. “I have a tendency to o-overshare and I have problems with s-s-stuttering when I’m n-nervous and then I notice that I’m t-t-talking too much and my stutter gets even worse and I can’t stop and I just w-wish that I hadn’t talked at all, and - ”
“It’s okay, I like listening to you.” His voice was warm and genuine, and she relaxed almost immediately as he spoke.
“The stuttering doesn’t bother me, trust me, I know what it’s like when you have no control over… yourself.” He pointed at himself with a bitter smile and she could feel her heart burn with compassion.
"This condition of yours, h-have you always had that?“ Her mouth had, once more, blurted out her thoughts without her consent, and she was immediately filled with regret. So inappropriate.
"I…” Arthur paused, and she interrupted him immediately.
“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that was so intrusive - ”
“I’ve had it for as long as I can think, really.” His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, his mouth curved in a slight frown and he seemed to look through her as if lost in thought.
“Must’ve been terrible as a child,” Wanda thought out loud. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to suffer from a condition like his, much less to grow up with such a burden. Adults were often condescending and rude, but kids could be brutal with their words and actions, especially when they were directed at others who were different in any way, regardless of whether the problem was under their control or not.
“It still is.” Arthur murmured, and she felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. Fuck.
“O-of course, I - o-of course, it is!” Now she sounded like the most ignorant person on the planet. As a child. A condition like his wasn’t just a small impediment like her stutter, it could probably impact pretty much every single aspect of his life negatively; how can you say something like that so carelessly?
"I-I just meant, when I was a child I had t-terrible problems with stuttering, much worse than now, and everybody m-made fun of me. I mean, even my t-teachers laughed at me all the time, and if that isn’t the most case-in-point example of our failing educational system, I don’t know what is.“ Wanda saw images flashing before her eyes, her old teacher Mrs Wortham whom she’d despised more than anybody else she’d ever known. Her arrogant way of talking, her exaggerated, fabricated smiles, and her constant malicious words against her, all of it filling Wanda with a wave of anger against the general system that she hadn’t felt in a long time.
"It got to a point where I just s-stopped talking altogether, because not being able to say anything was still better than constantly being l-laughed at, and it was horrible. That’s why I imagine that it must have been terrible growing up with your condition, just b-b-because, well, I mean, I don’t want to bring any of that up, but - all I’m trying to say is: I’m s-sorry, it must’ve been very hard.”
To her surprise, he smiled at her genuinely, then looked down into his half-empty cup of coffee.
“I appreciate that, thank you. I… I didn’t really go to a public school. I did for a while, but it just didn’t work out, so my mom… my mom taught me everything I needed to know.” Arthur avoided eye contact, and Wanda felt like he was really embarrassed about it. She knew about the recent debates, about the people who claimed it was criminal to withhold children from public education, but she couldn’t have cared less; as long as they taught their child the basics and made sure their moral compass wasn’t severely screwed up, what did it matter in which environment the children learned?
“That’s so interesting, it must’ve been a lot of fun to be taught things by someone that’s so close to you and actually cares about you.”
“It was. I mean, I love my mom, but it was hard… it was hard growing up without any other friends.” The sadness that he spoke with made her heart grow heavy in her chest, and her sympathy for him increased indefinitely.
“I know… I - I mean, I can imagine. But at least you had her, right?”
“I did, yeah. She’s the most important person in my life.” His eyes met hers again, and she could see that he spoke the truth, his expression full of warmth and love and Wanda felt a little pang of jealousy hit her. She’d never had the best relationship with her mother, not after everything that had happened, but she’d always longed to have something like this, someone, that would be there in this way at all times.
“I’m glad, she sounds amazing.” Afraid, that her expression might seem somewhat sour, Wanda intuitively covered her mouth as she smiled.
"Do you wanna know what her nickname for me is?“
"What is it?”
“Happy.” Happy. That was the cutest thing she’d ever heard.
“That is so adorable. I have to meet her someday and see, what kind of name she’d come up with for me.”
Something in his eyes changed as she said that, something that apparently gave him a little more confidence, considering he suddenly sat up straighter, his arms laid out on the table in an open gesture, and smiled at her brightly.
“You know, she only calls me that, because I really like jokes - always have.”
“I can tell, and you’re good at telling them, too!”
⁕
"It’s fine, I’ll be fine. You want to go?“ His posture still exuded uncertainty, but as they finally left the dark alleyway, his demeanour seemed to better naturally.
Her head instinctively snapped to both sides as they reached the open streets, her eyes scanning the crowds for the slick blond hair she’d run from earlier, but he really seemed to have gone.
Walking was okay, sometimes a little difficult to place her foot in the right angle as to not feel any pain or injure herself further, but Wanda was way too shy to ask Arthur for help.
They walked about a block, only exchanging small talk and fleeting glances before she spied the diner in question in the corner of her vision. They were crossing the street when it happened: she stepped back up onto the pavement a little too enthusiastically, and immediately felt the now-familiar ache shoot up through her leg again, making her hiss in pain. Her hand grabbed Arthur’s arm for balance, and she felt her face scrunch up in discomfort.
There was a short pause as he took in some air before he spoke, his voice dripping with concern.
"I really feel like I should get you to a hospital or something.” Wanda let her face relax again as the pain subsided slowly, and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
“Thanks, really, but I know I’ll be fine.” He chuckled, and she could see his face light up ever so slightly all of a sudden.
“You wanna know the quickest way of getting to the hospital?” She let go of his arm as he lifted it and pointed behind her.
“Just stand in the road and wait.”
⁕
Her heartfelt chuckle still rang in her ears as she remembered his previous joke and his pure, pleased facial expression as he’d looked back at her.
“Thank you, I’m - well, I’m trying to pursue a career in stand up comedy.”
Oh. That, Wanda had not expected. She’d enjoyed the jokes he’d told her over the course of the night immensely, but she felt like his sense of humour was very much specialised, so much that the general public would probably not be a very receptive audience to his type of comedy.
However, she was.
"Really? I’d love to come to one of your shows some time.“ He raised his eyebrows as if questioning her enthusiastic response, and seemed to struggle with giving a casual response.
"I-I’ll tell you when I’ve got one coming up.”
“So, what do you do for a living right now?” The embarrassment in his eyes returned immediately, and he lowered his gaze back towards his coffee.
"I work for the… I work as a clown.“ Of course, that explained the remainders of white makeup on the side of his face she’d been wondering about, but something about that seemed… off. Arthur, while he appeared to her like a friendly and interesting person, frankly didn’t seem to be the type to work as a clown. He seemed very sad and almost sickly, and Wanda couldn’t help but wonder how he came to work in an industry that was so very largely based on entertainment and laughter.
"I’ve never met a clown before, I’ve always thought it sounds like so much fun.”
“Well, it depends.”
“What do you mean?” He was still avoiding eye contact as he spoke, his hands fiddling with the sleeves of his dotted white button-up shirt.
“Well, I work for an agency, they’re actually called ‘the ha-ha agency’,” he rolled his eyes warily, “they rent out clowns for a variety of things - good and bad. I get to go to the children’s hospital sometimes, that’s the best.” He looked back up at her unexpectedly, and his eyes were almost glowing with passion.
“There is this one kid who’s got cancer, I think, and he’s always the happiest, always reacts with the most genuine laughter you’ll ever hear. He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever met, and it’s the most gratifying experience to - ”
“Will…”
“Yes, Will. Do you know him?” Wanda had interrupted him unwillingly, but her mind had not allowed her to remain silent as she recognised who he was talking about.
“I do, I - I work there.”
“You do?” She did. William, the boy he was talking about, was on her station, a little orphan boy who had fortunately been lucky enough to receive treatment for his rare case of bone cancer, largely because they didn’t know a lot about his disease yet, so he was perfect for testing out unusual new methods. She shuddered and forced herself to smile at Arthur’s curious look.
"I’m a nurse there. We’re living in rough times, the children are getting sicker and sicker every day, and Will…" Wanda looked him in the eyes and stopped herself from elaborating.
“I’m sorry, you finish first. What’s the bad part?” He hesitated before he continued, maybe wanting to ask her more about her job, but he seemed to catch the fact that she didn’t have any real interest in continuing to talk about it at the moment, so he took another deep breath and kept going.
“Well, sometimes it’s the most demeaning things you have to do as a clown. I don’t have a problem with that per sé, I don’t…” He paused, but Wanda knew what he meant. He didn’t think of himself very highly, and as long as he got paid for what he did, he didn’t care what others thought of him.
“But the people here are just…”
“The worst.”
“Yeah.” Arthur gave her a sour smile, then turned away towards the window. "Got jumped the other day, by some teens.“ Fuck. Her gaze fell back onto the materializing bruises along his jawline and neck, the outsides a pale red with the middles resembling the purple of plums all the way to the dark mauve of blackberries.
"Was my fault, really. They stole something from me and I shouldn’t have gone after them.”
“Sorry about that…” Wanda followed his gaze once more, the darker streets outside now largely empty, only lit up by the yellowish glow of the many street lights lining the pavement, and she lost herself staring at the passing cars. Deep in thought, without looking at him, she mumbled, partly directed at him, partly directed at herself: “What’s become of this world, Arthur?”
⁕
“You sure you don’t want me to walk you home? The streets here are dangerous, especially at night.” Arthur’s words warmed Wanda’s heart as the harsh coldness crept through her jacket, and she shook her head with a smile.
“I’ll be fine, you really don’t have to. I live on the other side of t-town and I know you’ve got work tomorrow, besides, it’s really just this b-bus I have to take and then I’m basically already home.”
“Okay…” He nodded to himself, head now turned towards the ground as he readjusted his pale ochre jacket before thrusting his hands into his pockets dejectedly.
"Listen, I… I really enjoyed t-this, you know?“ His gaze met hers immediately as she stammered, eyes wide open in surprise. "I mean, m-maybe we could do something like this a-again sometime?” Wanda forced herself to smile, and he blinked a couple of times, then rubbed his eyes firmly before refocussing on her. She almost expected him to reject her offer after all this, but he proved her wrong.
"Y-yeah, sure!“ His stutter made her laugh, and even though she’d tried to swallow it as much as she could, she knew he’d noticed. "I’ll… um… I’ll give you my number?” His head was cocked to the side as he suggested the idea, once again reminding her of a cute, curious dog, and she quickly pulled out a pen from her purse, handing it to him.
Wanda could see her bus approaching out of the corner of her eye and quickly took the few steps towards the road to signal for the bus driver to stop. Turning around, she was startled to find Arthur standing right behind her, his hand extended holding her pen and a receipt that had something scribbled on its back in very messy handwriting.
She grabbed it immediately, as the bus slowed down to a stop and nodded at Arthur, not quite knowing under which boundaries to say goodbye.
“I-I-I’ll call you, if I can r-read this.” She grinned, and he chuckled in response as she rose her hand to a cordial wave, the paper grasped tightly between her fingers.
“Be careful.” He added, and she saluted him as she boarded the bus.
“I will.”
With her hand and the piece of paper pressed closely to her chest, the bus closed its doors and started moving almost immediately, and Wanda couldn’t help but feel a tight, pressing feeling in her chest as she studied Arthur slowly moving out of her field of vision.
His hands were pushed back into his jacket pockets, his eyes following the bus as the corners of his mouth curved slightly upwards into a hint of a smile, and then they had turned a corner and he was out of sight.
Wanda sighed and pressed the paper tighter against her chest. She felt like there was so much more to him, so much more mystery to unfold, to learn and know, and she couldn’t help but eagerly await the next time they’d meet.
Arthur Fleck x Original Female Character | Joker AU
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⁕
He’s going to see me. He’s going to get me. He’s going to hurt me.
Wanda’s breath felt like sharp daggers in her lungs, her legs sore from running through the wide, bustling streets of Gotham trying to get away from him.
She had tried to excuse his behaviour for months and months, his violent actions towards her, his abusive slaps and punches and - worst of all - his hurtful words. She had tried to be understanding, kind and forgiving, to be there for him, that’s what people in a relationship did, after all, wasn’t it?
It had only gotten worse. The more she’d tried to help him, the more he’d started acting out on her, had touched her without her consent, had locked her in their apartment for days without food as a ‘punishment’ if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted her to, all until she’d miraculously managed to escape a couple of weeks ago.
It had taken all of her willpower not to call the police on him, knowing full well he would’ve ended up in jail or another facility, not only because of what he’d done to her but his numerous other criminal actions she had witnessed in the time she had spent with him, not even mentioning his constant drug abuse. She’d wanted to be nice.
Wanda hadn’t called the police, had just left him a note telling him to keep his distance, and if he ever did try to come near her again, she would turn him in immediately.
"Dirty fucking bitch!“ he had called her only minutes ago as he’d stumbled upon her randomly in the dirty streets of Gotham before he’d grabbed her dark hair from behind, pulling her back flush against him. The passersby around them apparently hadn’t noticed, if they had, they hadn’t reacted to her precarious situation in any way, not even glancing at her as she struggled against his strong grip. His other hand had wrapped around her throat and pulled her neck back onto his shoulder, so he could talk right into her ear.
"I’ll give you what you fucking deserve for running away from me, for even daring - ” His snarling voice and his grip on her curls had ceased immediately after Wanda had angled her knee and kicked her foot backwards in the general direction of his crotch.
“Ugh!” he’d cried out and she’d felt him falling to his knees behind her. She hadn’t turned around to see, she hadn’t had the urge to actually see his face, she’d just started running as fast as she could, jumping through multiple groups of people as she frantically ran and ran as fast as she could, letting the fear and panic envelop her and spur her on.
Now, as Wanda ran, she knew he was following her, and she knew that, if he caught her, he would kill her. She knew him well enough to know she’d crossed that line he’d talked about so often, and that, in his eyes, she now deserved the ultimate punishment.
The heavy rain that had been pouring down the whole day had stopped, but the pavements were still slick with a thin coat of water. As she darted around a corner, her foot slid through a puddle into a shallow pothole and lodged itself into the crevice, her ankle suddenly bent dangerously far into the wrong direction, and Wanda cried out in pain as she felt the unnatural stretching sensation.
She wasn’t going to be able to run from him, not with whatever she had just managed to do to herself, and she looked around in panic. There was the option of running into the big crowd of people in the public square across the street to her right, maybe getting away with the anonymity of the crowd and fleeing via the subway, or she could take her chances and just try to keep on running as far as she could. Then her eyes fell on the narrow alleyway to her left, which, she knew, he would never expect her to hide in.
Her decision was made, and, within seconds, she was crouched behind a shallow garbage container in the semi-dark alley, watching the street through the gap between container and dirty brick-wall. It took only about 10 seconds until she saw him run past, his usual gelled blond hair messily falling into his face, and then he had passed out of her field of vision.
Wanda waited for at least 5 minutes, crouched behind the container until the water on the ground had soaked through her shoes and socks and her heart had stopped its relentless, torturous rhythm before she finally got up. Her knees were hurting, and her ankle was throbbing painfully, but she was fine, she was alive, and he was gone.
Then she heard the loud crash behind her.
⁕
Wanda whirled around instinctively, now facing the dark alleyway, and saw the silhouette of a man only a couple of metres away from her. He was tall, his shoulder-length-hair flailing around his thin frame as he held onto the container beside him whilst viciously stomping on a couple of trash bags on the ground in front of him, grunting loudly as he went on and on.
He continued his venting for about a minute while she stood in the shadows indecisively, his curly hair damp with sweat as he ultimately stopped to lean his hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath.
The flash of fear she had felt from being startled by the noise had quickly turned into concern for the man in front of her. Sure, it was none of her business, and she could’ve just swallowed her concerns and quietly left the alley, probably without him even noticing, but something about him drew her in, something that made her curious and cautious at once. And what’s the worst that could happen?
“A-are you okay, sir?” Her voice had spoken for her without her meaning for it to, just after her legs had taken her a careful couple of steps closer, wary of putting pressure onto her already-swollen ankle.
The figure before her flinched, and straightened up immediately, still visibly exhausted from his fit and turned his face towards her for the first time.
He wore a white shirt and dark slacks that both looked a little too big on his slender figure, and while he had a kind face dominated by strong features, he looked awfully tired, his eyes sunken in and underlined by dark circles and a drained expression apparent on his face.
“Yeah, sure.” His voice was mildly dismissive, probably certain she was just asking him because of moral etiquette, and not out of actual worry. He was walking towards her now, trying to pass by her with a considerable, polite distance between them, heading towards the exit of the alley she had come from purposefully fast.
“Are you sure?” Wanda asked again as he was just about to pass her, and he stopped in his tracks to turn towards her again. His gaze burned through her, studying her for a long couple of seconds while his hand found its way up to his hair, slicking the wet strands backwards onto his shoulders. She forced herself to an encouraging smile.
“Just a bad day.” His voice was pleasant, deep and relaxing, and his kind smile was audible in his words.
“Aren’t they all bad these days?” Wanda remarked, and he chuckled lightly. Just as he opened his mouth to answer her, she witnessed a sudden drop of blood flowing out of his nose and trail down over his lips, the dark liquid a stark contrast against his pale complexion. “Oh, your nose, hold on.”
She reached for her back pocket and pulled out her clean, white handkerchief, quickly closing the distance between them with limping steps to offer it to him.
He made a rejecting motion and moved to grab his own handkerchief from his shirt pocket only to find it empty, then reluctantly taking hers out of her hand with an appreciative smile.
“Thanks.” he mumbled as he pressed the cloth over his mouth and his nose, and she could see the blood soaking through the white fabric onto his hands.
She stood closer to him now, close enough to observe what the dark alleyway had hidden before: a tall, decently attractive man, pale with dark brown hair, strong brows, and striking, bright eyes that seemed to look right into her soul. Wanda could spot the visible residue of white paint around his temples, crusted blood on his scalp and there were fresh, purple bruises on the side of his neck and jaw, that were just beginning to darken as if he’d only been in a fight very recently.
Her heart sank, and she spoke without thinking again.
“Sorry for w-whatever h-h-happened to you.” She mentally slapped herself to stop her unrelenting nervous stutter and gestured to his neck. “This city’s a dump, honestly.”
His gaze on her seemed somewhat confused now, and he answered after another long chuckle.
“It really is, isn’t it?” He wiped his nose with the handkerchief and she could see that it appeared to have stopped bleeding.
“My name’s Wanda, by the w-way.” She couldn’t stop herself from saying it and offered him her hand in a friendly handshake. His skin was cold and rough and his reaction weirdly hesitant as he shook her hand as if he hadn’t expected her to… be nice?
“Arthur, Arthur Fleck.” That’s a nice name, she thought and gave him another bright smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Arthur.”
He smiled back at her, a genuine, interested smile, and suddenly, out of nowhere, he burst into hysterical laughter that echoed loudly through the narrow street. Wanda instinctively took a step back as he slapped his hand across his mouth and managed to stop for a short moment, then broke out in even more uncontrollable spurts. Arthur lifted his arm and pressed his face into the crook of his elbow, as his other hand was furiously trying to grab something from his inner jacket pocket.
Great. Wanda immediately regretted having initiated the conversation with this stranger in the dark alley, now convinced that he was absolutely going to pull out a gun or a knife and probably kill her right here, right now. Might’ve as well let Nathan get to me out on the street.
Her ankle was throbbing and her lungs still hurt with the aftershocks of her recent escape. She knew this guy could do anything to her right now, she had no chance in a fight and running was beyond all question.
To her genuine surprise, he didn’t pull out a weapon at all, but a small credit-card sized laminated piece of paper with some text on it and handed it to her with his shaking hand, his body still writing with laughter. She turned the worn out, slightly wrinkled card so she could read it in the sparse light.
Forgive my laughter. I have a condition. (more on back)
Her fingers quickly turned over the card to reveal more information in smaller print.
It’s a medical condition causing sudden, frequent, uncontrollable laughter that doesn’t match how you feel. It can happen to people with brain injuries or certain neurological conditions. Thanks! (Please return the card)
Her heart was beating out of her chest, and as she looked up again, Arthur had fallen back against the brick wall, one of his hands clamped across his mouth, desperately trying to muffle his voice, the other roughly choking himself, turning his loud laughter into a wheezy cough that sounded horribly painful.
“S-so-sorr-ha-ha-ha!”
Wanda was by his side in the blink of an eye, her arm around his upper waist, stabilizing his shaking body against the wall, her voice slow and calm.
“Shhh, it’s okay, you have to relax, Arthur, can you do that for me?” She slid her hand across the one on his neck. He resisted at first, but then gave in, letting her take it softly into hers, away from his throat, leaving behind large white marks on the reddened skin.
“Try and breathe slowly, in and out, okay? Do it with me.” His eyes were on hers, and she could see the tears threatening to spill over being blinked away as he focussed on her, his breathing roughly matching hers, only occasionally disrupted by short chuckles, his convulsing chest now calmly rising and falling.
Wanda’s heart was burning with pity to see him like this. She’d met many people in her life so far, especially since working as a nurse in Gotham, had witnessed many different conditions and disorders, both physical and mental, but this was one of the weirdest ones she had seen so far. Poor Arthur.
He’d closed his eyes, her steadying arm no longer around his waist as he leaned fully against the wall now, his head thrown back against the cold bricks as he caught his breath fully.
Her left hand was still holding his, absentmindedly rubbing calming circles into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered quietly, his voice rough and wheezy as if it hurt him to speak at all.
“No need to apologise. Are you feeling better?”
He leaned forward abruptly as though he’d just remembered she was there or had expected her to have gone, his sudden movement pulling his own hand out of hers.
His gaze was once more focussed on her, and he smiled at her apologetically as she handed him his card back.
“Sorry, really, I - ”
“Hey, stop it, alright? W-we all could use some more laughter, especially n-nowadays.”
The stutter was back now, the nervousness surging through her as he, seemingly taken aback by her words, looked at her with a certain twinkle in his eyes before a smile spread over his face again. He’s cute.
“I mean that.” Wanda hesitated as her mind started to wander. He’d leave now, and then she would, too, leaving this alley and this meeting behind them. She’d go back to her flat, back to the same old routine, and she’d likely never see him again. She wanted to, however, because something about him intrigued her and piqued her interest. Her lips moved before she knew it.
“Hey, l - listen, can I do anything n-n-nice for you? Maybe invite you to a c-coffee or something?” What are you doing, Wanda?
“You want to - ” He snorted with laughter but had himself under control almost immediately. “You want to go for coffee with me?” He looked at her, studying her like she was some sort of alien specimen, and she was immediately filled with regret. Stop being so fucking weird, Wanda. You’re just a stranger to him.
“Yeah, only if you want to o-of course, didn’t want to make you feel uh-un-uncomfortable.” Her gaze escaped his, quickly turning her head towards the ground as she felt the embarrassment hit her.
“No, no, you didn’t, no.” He’d taken a small step towards her as he gestured towards the main road anxiously. “There’s… there’s one around the corner, a diner I mean, if you really want to go.”
His demeanour and the way he spoke were dominated by uncertainty, and she couldn’t help but smile again.
“What, you think I’m just saying that?"
"No, it’s just…” Arthur paused, averting his eyes, and she could see that words had escaped him entirely. He let out a soft chuckle that was a bit louder than appropriate, took a deep breath and looked back up at her. “You’re pretty,” he blurted out and seemed momentarily shocked by the words he had spoken.
Now it was Wanda’s turn to laugh at his timid tone and the faint blush that had spread across his cheeks.
“No, you’re pretty!” She retorted, and his blush grew a deeper shade of red, confusion still apparent in his expression. He is pretty.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I…” He laughed once more with his hand clamped across his mouth, but just a moment later he was fine, his face still flushed, but his voice back under his control. Wanda couldn’t suppress a chuckle of her own, simultaneously trying to mask how weird she felt about this whole interaction and how she’d felt herself turn red as well after his inept compliment.
“Come on, let’s go.”
The sharp pain that shot through Wanda’s leg as she moved to lead the way out of the side street came as a not-so-gentle reminder of her earlier slip-up, and she nearly collapsed with the shock that came with it. She’d completely forgotten about it while talking to Arthur.
"Fuck…“ she hissed under her breath as she caught her weight with one hand against the dirty brick wall and straightened up again.
"You okay?” He stood just next to her, his hands extended in a helping gesture, but not quite touching her.
"Yeah, I just… rolled my ankle earlier and I guess it’s worse than I thought.“ She let go of the wall, accepting his offered hand in hers. It was still cold, just as much as hers, but she felt warmth rolling all the way through her body from where their fingers touched, and felt positively taken aback by the effect he seemed to have on her just through his mere presence.
He turned out to be stronger than she’d thought (judging by his lanky appearance), supporting her easily as she put her entire weight onto him, testing the limits of her injured ankle.
"You really shouldn’t walk with that.” He asserted with sympathy as she took her first tentative steps, but Wanda soon found a way of walking that didn’t require help or make her gasp whenever the surprisingly painful repercussions of her twisted ankle made themselves noticeable.
"It’s fine, I’ll be fine. You want to go?“ She lifted her head to nod at him and found herself once more intrigued her attraction to this strange man she’d met in a dark alleyway of all places.
What’s his deal?
⁕
