The Joker's Clown

Chapter three: Without the Blade

Sorry for the extremely long pause in updates, I promised not to give up this story, and I full heartedly will abide by that promise. Things have just been complicated lately with school, my family, and etc.

Please don't give up on this fic! <3

Bit of a warning for this chapter, y'all... Some gore(ish) topics and self harm are discussed, please, if you are triggered by talks of self harm skip the section(s) that I will have marked by a few of these bad boys -> ---

Also, in case any of you are wondering, anytime a paragraph or a sentence is italicized, it's showing Bruce's thoughts. Kinda like he's talking to himself in his head I guess? If y'all already caught onto that then that's awesome! Anywho,

Thank you, please enjoy! -S.O.M.

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Thank God it's nighttime, if it was any lighter outside the Joker's antics could've gotten him arrested and me in a pickle with the GCPD.

The sound of Joker's keys scraping against the door of his apartment brought me back to reality. The clown kicked the door open and nothing was as I imagined it to be. I had expected a rundown, purplish-greenish mess, but nothing was odd about his home at all. The spacious living area opened into a kitchen with a rather long dining table, and a hallway peaked out leading to who knows where. Joker waved me in and I decided to follow, noting the way too normal colors of his furniture and overall apartment.

Once I stepped inside, rows and rows of bookshelves took my notice immediately. The shelves lined the walls, the only thing creating gaps in between them where some small slivers of windows. A few books in particular caught my attention.

Hardy? Bronte? Since when does the Clown Prince of Crime like poetry?

A large window had overtaken my view as well as the beautiful Gotham City skyline behind it. I hadn't even considered his living arrangement before, but the Joker didn't live in an apartment. He lived in a penthouse which, might I add, was a meager few streets down from one of mine.

How could he afford this place? I know for a fact that he hasn't robbed a bank in years... Says it's not his "style" to do the same thing twice unless it has some better comedic purpose than the first time. Learned that the hard way...

"In case you're wondering, Bat-babe," the Joker said appearing from around a hallway corner;

"This place wasn't 'forcefully taken' from anyone, and I paid for it with clean money. Ha! I guess I was trying to be a better clown even before this 'therapy' deal!" The Joker looked up at me through his long eyelashes, wiggling his eyebrows in the process.

I turned away from the idiot and went back to surveying my surroundings.

I'm basically letting him run circles around me mentally! Just help him get his crap together and get back to the Cave!

By 'clean' he probably meant something awful, and even if it was money that he eared, he only paid with it to avoid detection from me or the police. How would he have earned money anyways? There was no legal way for him to do so! The Joker doesn't even have a birth certificate lettalone any other documents needed for legal pay. And there is no fu*king way the Joker pays taxes.