A Three Jokers Orgin story. So there's been a lot of Joker in the news lately. Lots of debate about giving him an origin story. Should he have one? Should it be multiple choice? Should it be a mystery? Well I'm curious by nature. I love the origin s...
When Bruce returned with the liquor, he found the Joker sitting in a towel, elbows on his knees, with his head in his hands. Only when Bruce had sat the glass of scotch in the drawer and sent it in, did the Joker look up.
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He got up and crossed over to it as he tried not to look so eager and desperate for it. Bruce couldn't help but notice the way the Joker's hand shook as he took it and turned it up. He gulped it all down in one drink. The Joker's eyes close a moment as he licks his lips savoring it. It was high quality scotch.
"Oh Bruce, please tell me that's not all I'm getting," the Joker cocks his head slightly.
Bruce lays fresh clothes in the drawer and sent it in to the Joker. He picks them up and replaced them with his empty glass. Bruce refills the glass and can't help but utilize his peripheral vision to see the Joker dressing with his back to him. Bruce curses himself for wanting to catch a glimpse of the Joker's toned back side before he had a chance to slide those sweats up. Bruce grabs a second glass from his desk drawer and pours himself a glass as well. He needed a drink just as badly as the Joker did.
Bruce sends the Joker another drink, this glass twice as full as the last, and rolls his desk chair in front of the glass on the cell. The Joker slips into the T-shirt and turns back around to get the drink. He tries to not glance at Bruce as he does, but it's no use, he's too weak.
The Joker sees the drink in Bruce's hand and is glad he decided to have a drink with him. The Joker lowers himself to the floor and sits Indian style in front of Bruce. But he doesn't look up at him, he just stirs his drink absentmindedly with his finger.
"Thanks for not making me drink alone," the Joker says and brings his drink to his lips. His eyes fall on Bruce's. Both men quickly look away from each other.
"I just want to make sure you don't do something stupid with the glass," Bruce nonchalantly shrugs and takes a sip of his own drink.
The Joker huffs and rolls his eyes, "I'm not particularly suicidal at the moment." He wipes a fresh sweat that has formed on his forehead.
"You feeling ok?" Bruce asks as he watches him do it.
"Nothing I can't handle," the Joker says and takes another drink.
"So why did you start taking drugs. You were quite straight laced before. Did something bad happen to make you? Or maybe stress? Depression?" Bruce asks and watched the slight furrow across the Joker's forehead and shaved brows.
The Joker was a little curious about that himself. At first it really was just a little before a fight. Then it was before a mission of any kind. Then he started celebrating victories too. Then when he was angry, stressed, or depressed. Then he started with the daily morning pick me ups. After a while it became his lunch and dinner. And eventually he was staying up sometimes a week or longer. It had gotten bad enough that he could no longer hide it from the ones who spent the most time with him.
