Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Open and shut case - Part 5 - Joker x Reader

(Y/n) pushed her way into her apartment, peeling off her large coat as she dropped her case to the floor and her keys to the small table that sat by the door. The attorney looking in the mirror on the wall, examining her neck to make sure that the clown hadn't left any marks.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were really on my side." (Y/n) said in a mocking tone. Doing her best to sound like the clown, as she brushed her fingers over her flesh.

"Dumb, damn clown. Psychotic looney tune. I'm gonna shove those cigarettes of his up his ass if he tries that shit again. I'll punch him in the face if he gives me that stupid grin of his, one more time." (Y/n) muttered to herself, as she made her way to the kitchen. Throwing open the door of the refrigerator and grabbing an already open bottle of wine and a glass, before returning to the living room and dropping herself onto the sofa.

"Rotten, stinking job. Sending me into that crazy house. People shouting and screaming. I don't need this shit. I really don't." (Y/n) continued to grumble, as she kicked off her shoes and poured herself a large glass of wine.

"This is what happens when I wish I had a life. I could have thrown it all in and gone backpacking around the world. Losing myself in different cultures. In ancient civilisations. But nooooooooo! I have to be the good daughter. I have to stick around. Join the family firm. I have to believe in the law. And what do I get for towing the line and doing everything that I am supposed to do? I get the clown." (Y/n) sighed, as she fell backwards, dropping her head over the back of the sofa and staring up at the ceiling.

"I really should be careful about what I ask for. Cos this really has backfired on me." (Y/n) sighed heavily, as she ran her fingers through her hair. She knew that she sounded a little childish. Spoilt. But in truth, it was just her way of getting out all her frustrations. Of letting out the fear that she had felt but didn't want to show, when the clown had had her by the throat. The tears that had wanted to fall. And instead of letting others see the emotions that were bubbling inside her. Instead of letting others think that she was weak, she would rant to the universe. Complain, groan and grumble, until she felt better. Until she felt able to deal with all the realities that she had to face. And so, it was now. She knew that the Fleck case wasn't going to go anywhere. That no one else in their right mind, would touch the job. So, she would just have to deal with it. She would just have to deal with the mixed up rantings of the clown, as best she could.

"Okay, (Y/n). Let's get this over with." (Y/n) told herself, as she dragged herself back to her feet, and over to where she had dropped her bag. The briefcase straining to stay shut. Fighting against the thick case file that was inside. She had already read the file more than once. Gone through the witness statements, police reports and crime scene photos. Gone over the medical evaluations of her client, and the copies of the interviews that the cops had conducted with Fleck. But she would now go over them again. Examine everything yet again to see if the information that the clown had given her, could shed a little light on the crimes. On his reasons. On his motives.

Heaving the bag back to the sofa, she dropped it onto the coffee table. Taking another gulp of wine, before she sat back down and opened the case. The thick file staring up at her.

"Ok file. You don't like me, and I don't like you. And even though I'm still not sure that I want this case, Fleck does deserves the best I can give him. So, why don't you and I agree to get on, at least until we have saved his ass from frying." (Y/n) said to the inanimate object. Sure that she had already spent too much time with the clown, and was going to end in the next cell to him if she carried on talking the case files.

Opening the cover, she looked at the photos on the top. Picking them up so that she could get a better look at the old pictures of the man that she had been talking to earlier. They were family photos. Well, sort of. To (Y/n), a family snap, was supposed to show happiness. Smiling faces and wonderful times. Moments caught for posterity that showed get togethers, holidays and celebrations. But these pictures looked dark. Lifeless. Even when Fleck and his mother were smiling, there seemed to be something missing. They were missing happiness. Missing joy. A looming darkness that should never surround a mother and child.

(Y/n) took out the yearbook that the police had found in Fleck's apartment. Her fingers finding the spot that she had marked. Her eyes falling on the small snapshot of Arthur that had been circled by the police. (Y/n) couldn't help but think that he had been quite a handsome thing when he was younger. Still was, really. if she ignored the fact that he had killed six people. He had had the same mop of dark hair even when he had been a senior at High School. He had had a sweet smile. And a sad look behind his eyes that (Y/n) hated to see. He looked like the kind of boy that would have happily carried a girl's books for her. Would have walked her home. Would have given her his coat when it had started to rain. Would have asked her to the prom and presented her with the best corsage that his money could buy. Just the kind of boy that (Y/n) wished that she had known at High School. The kind of boy that she wished had asked her to the prom. The kind of boy that was a real gentleman.

(Y/n) sighed, as she threw the yearbook back into her case. The attorney wondering what else had really gone wrong in Arthur Fleck's life between the time that picture had been taken, and his first killings on the train. What life in that squalled little apartment had been like with his mother. What it had been like for him to walk the streets. To survive in a city that would quite happily chew you up and spit you out if you stepped a foot wrong. What it had been like to have spent your whole life being treated like you were nothing. And she couldn't help but want to find out. Couldn't help but want to do what she did the best. And that was to defend her client.

"Well, Arthur, Joker, or whoever you want to be. It looks you got yourself an attorney. An attorney that really is on your side. But I swear if you try that strangling shit again, you will be wearing your testicles as earrings." (Y/n) told the mug shot of the grinning Joker, before placing it back on the table, and picking back up the file.