Random One-shots (Complete)

(Joker/Batman) A Candle with no Fire

It was almost funny in some ways how sanity was like a candle, all it took was a gust of wind, nature, or human to blow it out, and the fire was gone. Poof. None existent, never to be seen again. And you are left in a cold, dark room with no shred of warmth for comfort, let alone light. No windows.

That is of course, until someone tried to light it again. And the next thing you know, you feel warmth again.Complete.

The Joker's candle was a lot more complicated than a simple candle if he was being honest to himself (which was not hard since he didn't know whos voice was whos). It consisted of many complicated mechanisms and traps that all safeguarded each other in some way, shape or form.

But to put it in small, simple words. It was practically impossible for anyone to try and light it, let alone get near the candle without being hit with a slap, laughing gas, shived in the kidney, and many other methods of torture, and even then they wouldn't even be halfway to the candle in the corner of his dark room.

And he was okay with it, after all, it was just a bad day that caused this to happen. And he loved every second of it. He cherished it to the point that he no longer cared about it. He relished the darkness, the cold room that was his home. He could do anything that he wanted to the room and it wouldn't break, it would expand, giving him more room to create and cause havoc.

That is, until he met the man in black for the first (or was it second?) time.

And in that one moment, the dark, cold and lifeless room, somehow lit up, and he found himself in a room he never knew was there. A room that he did not know was his. A candlelit not with an orange flame like one would assume. This flame flared with a mixture of black and purple that was both beautiful as well as deadly.

And he found himself attached to the flame like a match to gasoline. He wanted to see that candle flair, to burn everything down so that he could be trapped in that warmth for all eternity. Who'd have thought that a bat that hides in darkness could metaphorically, physically, and literally light up his world. Not him that was for certain.

And then the walls would crumble down and he was introduced to a city full of light, full of life. All easy pickings for his destruction. But that didn't stop him from keeping the candle close him. If anything, leaving the candle alone on the table left him paranoid that someone would steal his light from him.

So he embraced the light for all it was worth, he worshipped it to the point he was burning his face and hands in the hopes he could keep it with him longer. He laughed as the flames licked and melted off his gloved hands, his arms, and finally his face. He was literally lighting up like a Christmas tree he had set on fire with the help of corpses.

It was funny how one bad day, brought him the best light he had ever experienced in this pathetic, miserable life of existence.

Sadly though, the feeling didn't last long, and he watched in despair as the fire died down around him. He begged and clung onto what little fire was left, as if willing the fire to light up again and give him the warmth he craved. What Batman gave to him in their fight when he became the Joker, the passion he felt as they took blows to each other, when he saw the Dark Knight for who he really was. But because he was locked in Arkham, the Bat had left him alone since he was no longer considered a threat.

And so the fire died with him. And he was left in the cold, dark, and lifeless room. Alone. Just like the cells of Arkham Asylum. The walls that had broken and showed him a view worthy of kings, started building themselves up until only four walls surrounded him.

I need you.

He didn't like that. He didn't want to be trapped in the darkness again.

He wanted Batman to light his room (world) again, and if the candle was to die down again after one night. Then he would do whatever it took to relight it again.

No. Matter. What.

The Joker finally had something in this miserable and pathetic world that gave him life. His existence. A meaning after a bad day. He was not going to loose it a second time. And if he had to set himself on fire again that it killed him. So be it.

Batman always cheered him up when he was having a bad day. He always did.

Batsyyyy. Batsyyyyy. Come out, come out wherever you are. Burn me like you did the first time we met. Kiss me with your fists and feet as you pummel me into the ground. Make this cold body warm again with the fire only you can provide.

I am the candle, you are the flame. I am the spark to your darkness.

Don't leave me in this cold room all alone, share your heat with me.

I will not stop until one of us is consumed by the black and purple flame.