Arthur Fleck Oneshots

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Summary: After a rough day at work, Arthur can't wait to return to the one thing that makes him feel like he matters.

Word Count: 1100

You were in the kitchen of Arthur's apartment, cleaning up while losing yourself in your nervous thoughts. Arthur hadn't come home yet, he was late and that was making you anxious. Gotham was a dangerous and cruel place, it had been particularly cruel to Arthur throughout his life and that made you worry for him.

Your head perked up when you heard the front door open and close, you knew that it was Arthur. You tossed the dishcloth onto the kitchen counter and walked over to the front door with a warm, welcoming smile on your face.

"Hey Arthur, how was your-oh my god, what happened?" you asked, your eyes going wide when you saw him slipping out of his coat.

"It's nothing..." Arthur assured you, very unconvincingly, as he hung his coat up by the door.

"Arthur...you're bleeding..." you told him as you approached him. He didn't fight you as you cupped his face in your hands and brushed your thumbs against his cheeks.

The injuries on Arthur's face didn't seem too serious, his nose was just bleeding and a few bruises might form. You knew that he would be okay but it still pained you to see him like this.

Clearly Arthur had gone back to the agency to get changed into his normal clothes and remove the clown makeup. You were pretty sure that he must have received these injuries during work and not on his way home because, despite the fact that he was still bleeding, his face looked relatively clean.

"...I thought that I cleaned it up" Arthur sighed as he placed his hands on top of yours, his eyes fluttering closed at your gentle touch.

"It must have started bleeding again...come on, I'll get you cleaned up" you smiled sadly as you took his hand in yours, guiding him towards the couch.

Arthur was silent as he followed you through the apartment and let you gently push him down onto the couch. His hand clasped around your wrist when you started to walk away from him.

"I'm just going to get a cloth, okay?" you asked softly and Arthur's grip around your wrist loosened until his hand dropped onto his lap.

You made sure not to take too long when you disappeared into the bathroom to grab a clean cloth and to fill a small bowl with water. When you returned to the living room, you placed the bowl down on the coffee table and sat down beside the beaten man.

Gently, you cupped his jaw in one hand while you lifted the dampened cloth to his face with your other hand. You were careful as you wiped the blood away from his nose.

"Well, the good news is that I don't think it is broken" you murmured, continuing to clean away the stubborn blood that had dried against his skin. "What happened?" you asked, tearing your gaze away from the task and meeting Arthur's. He had been watching you intently as you worked, almost missing your words as he snapped back into reality.

"I was working a job, advertising a store...some teenagers stole the sign. I chased them to get it back but one of them hit me over the head with it, then they started beating me up before running away" Arthur told you what had happened and your chest tightened. You just wanted to cry for him.

"Oh Arthur..." you sighed, not knowing what you could even say to make it any better. "Did you tell Hoyt?" you asked, shouldn't he be doing something about this?

"He just wanted me to return the sign, I told him that they stole it and broke it but he didn't believe me. He asked why they would steal a sign. I think he's mad at me now" Arthur shook his head as you pulled the cloth away, placing it in the bowl of water before turning back to him. You decided not to say what you were really thinking, what you really wanted to do was give Hoyt a piece of your mind. Arthur got beat up in the street and Hoyt is worried about some damn sign?

"Don't worry about him, okay? Don't worry about any of that, you're alright now" you assured Arthur, running your fingers through his hair. The world had been so cruel to him, you wondered how his eyes stayed so bright. His eyes were so sad yet they held so much love and hope, like he thought that things could actually get better. You admired that about him.

Neither of you spoke as Arthur rested his head on your shoulder, you just wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on top of his. Arthur's eyes closed again as he focused on your breathing and the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.

"Thank you" Arthur's voice was quiet, tired.

"You don't have to thank me" you assured him, smoothing your hand over his hair.

"I do...and not just for this" Arthur insisted, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "Thank you for being here, for caring. You saved me, you make me feel alive for the first time in my life. Thank you for being real" he continued to thank you and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

"Of course I'm real, and I'll always be here for you" you managed to speak, your voice quiet.

"I know you're real, you have to be...I could never imagine something as amazing as you...as good as you" Arthur explained and you had to hold back a broken breath that threatened to escape you.

Your embrace around Arthur tightened as you buried your face in his hair, you never wanted to let him go. You just wanted to keep him safe from all the horrors in this world, had he not been through enough?

Arthur clung to you, his embrace only loosening slightly when he fell asleep. You were what kept him going, what have him hope on the darkest days. As he lay in that alley in pain, he thought about going home to your gentle touches. As he listened to Hoyt berate him with a harsh glare, he thought about going home to your sweet praise and kind eyes. As he walked back to the apartment and passed each miserable face that refused to make eye contact, as passersby bumped into his shoulder, and the dreary Gotham weather suffocated him, Arthur thought about going home to your loving smile and warm embraces.

Arthur hated Gotham, he hated his building, and he hated his apartment. They never felt like home. But he loved you...you were his home.