Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Open and shut case - Part 7 - Joker x Reader

"Well? Are you going to say anything, or are we just gonna sit here in silence? Because believe me when I say, I have a lot of work to do to get your case even halfway ready for the pre-trial date. The public defenders did absolutely nothing. There are no notes from any interviews that you had with Bannister or any of his little underlings. And to be brutally honest, I am shitting myself. So, if you or Arthur, or whatever other personality that you might have floating around in your head of yours, isn't going to give me anything, I will just let you go back to watching Looney Tunes, or whatever other crap you and the rest of the Banana Splits do all day. And I will carry on trying to save your ass." (Y/n) huffed. Crossing her arms and staring at the still quiet man across the table from her.

(Y/n) was sure that they had been sat there for at least fifteen minutes. The clown just looking down at the pictures. Sometimes appearing as if he were going to laugh. Other times, like he was going to burst into tears. (Y/n) wishing that she could find a way to break through the walls of the Joker persona that Arthur had built up around him. The attorney taking a deep breath, before slowly placing her hand on top of his. The clown's eyes flying up to meet hers. The look behind his beautiful orbs different to the ones that she had seen on her previous visit.

"Arthur..........I need help. Anything that you can give me. Anything that you want to say, is better than nothing. I just need.............."

"I was tired of it. I couldn't and wouldn't take anymore. I was sick of being a victim. Of letting others walk all over me. Of them using and abusing me. I was a doormat, and I decided that I wouldn't let it happen anymore............." Joker began. (Y/n) quickly scribbling in her notebook.

"I can appreciate that. I can only imagine what it took to get you to that point. Losing your job, and then what happened with those three men on the train. What it feels like to believe that no one cares. You know, I know that you won't believe me. That you will probably always think that I am just some spoilt little rich kid, and in part you would be right. My father has run the most lucrative and most respected law firm in Gotham since he was just a little older than me, as he took it over from my grandfather after he passed away. But, no matter how much money there was floating around when I was growing up, I would happily give it all away to be able to spend time with my father. For him to love me. For him to have taken notice of anything that I ever did, because he didn't until I told him I was going to law school. I felt that up until that moment, I had been nothing but a disappointment him. And, to be brutally honest, I only went to law school in the first place to get my father to see that I was alive. I was just lucky that I found I had a talent for it. That I actually started to think I could make a difference. That my life could mean something. So, in a little way, I can kind of understand how you feel. That I can appreciate what it is like to not feel loved, especially by the most important people in your life. So, why don't you, Arthur, tell me more about how you felt. About your thoughts and feelings, if any, before and after each killing. About what you can remember. I need us to go through everything. I don't care how long it takes. I don't have anywhere else I need to be." (Y/n) told him. Joker slowly picking up the pictures of the crime scene on the train. The killer clown slowly and methodically telling her all that he could remember about the day before he had had the interaction on the train. All he could remember about the three men and then what happened afterwards. Before moving on to the pictures of this mother's body. Then Randall's.

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(Y/n) had listened, sometimes in disbelief to what was being said. She had had many clients before. Dealt with many legal issues, even murder. But this, but Arthur, was like nothing she had ever come across. At some points, it was scary. Confronting. Listening as obviously Joker spoke with such glee about the death of Randall. About the scissors entering the flesh of the big man's neck. Of the sensation as the blades were pushed into his eye. Of the power that he felt when he had crashed the man's head repeatedly into the wall. Yet within a moment, it was as if Arthur had made an appearance. His words softer, calmer as he spoke of the little man, Gary. How he had told him that he had been the only one that was ever nice to him, before kissing him on the head, and letting him leave the apartment. How he had told his mother that he hadn't been happy for one minute of his entire fucking life. How he had told her that he used to believe that his life was a tragedy, but that he now realised that it was a comedy, as he had pulled the pillow from under the old woman's head and smothered her with it. Holding her down until she had stopped her pathetic struggling. About how he had begun to laugh on the subway. One of the three men, singing "Send in the clowns" as he and his friends had made their way over to him. Another of the men pulling off his green wig. How he had tried to kick out as a man had taken his arms. His friend punching him in the face, sending him to the floor. About how they had laughed as all three had kicked him. How he had drawn the gun and shot two of the assholes, before chasing after the third. Shooting the limping man in the back as he tried to get up the stairs of the station, before he himself had run off into the night. (Y/n) just thankful that she had brought her little voice recorder, as she realised that she had barely been able to write a word.

"I............" (Y/n) began, as the clown stopped talking for a few minutes. Pulling another cigarette from the packet that sat on the table in front of him.

"I think that will be it for today. I need to get everything that you've said, transcribed so that I can read through it. So that I can see what I can use. So that I can..............."

"You think I'm a monster, don't you?" Joker interrupted. (Y/n) gulping at the large lump in her throat, before looking up at the man across from her.

"It doesn't matter what I think of you, Arthur. I'm your attorney. I............"

"Bullshit! I want to know if you think I'm a monster." Joker interrupted, as he reached across and grabbed her hand. Holding it firmly.

"Its important." The clown continued. (Y/n)'s eyes looking down to see their hands. His hands. Hands that were covered in so much blood.

"I think that some of the things that you did, can be called monstrous. But I don't think that you are a monster, no. I have met beaten women that have shot their abusers because they couldn't take anymore. I certainly wouldn't call them monsters. And I can't imagine what they had to go through to get them to that point, never mind what you did. I can't imagine what it was like to discover that the woman you believed was your mother for over thirty years, had actually let you be abused. That you were found tied to a damn radiator, in a stinking apartment, covered in bruises, and malnourished. That your condition is a result of that abuse. I don't want to imagine it, because it is just too fucking awful. And I am so very sorry that I compared the fact that my father didn't give a shit about me for most of my life, to what happened to you. I was so wrong. I don't know anything about how you might feel. But that's why I am here. I want to learn. I want to know every last, dark, awful detail, because anything might keep you from the chair. And now, that is the only important thing in my life. Keeping your butt from frying." (Y/n) explained, as she fought back the tears. Finding herself not minding that her hand was still firmly in that of the clown.

"I..........I should go. The sooner I get this typed up, the better. I have to........" (Y/n) finally continued, as she moved to stand up. Her eyes focusing back on the clown, as he refused to release her hand.

"Come back tomorrow?" Joker asked. A soft smile spreading across his lips, as (Y/n) nodded in agreement.

"Yeah.......we have to discuss Franklin. But it will be the afternoon. I have to sort a few things before I can get here. But I'll be back." (Y/n) promised. Her own smile creeping across her lips, as she felt him squeeze her hand before reluctantly letting it go. The clown watching as she picked up his file and made her way to the door. Joker finding that for the first time, he actually cared about what might happen to him. Especially if she cared.