The Dark Knight, Joker/Harvey, laughter is the best medicine
Part three of four stories that are one. Part four is also in comment to this because I am a goober.
“I have something for you,” he says to Harvey when he steps through the door of Harvey’s hospital room dressed as a doctor, a shapely nurse by his side that Harvey doesn’t recognize nor pay much mind to. A shame, the Joker thinks. Can’t see the forest for the incinerated trees.
He’d left the nurse’s costume up to her this time. She wears it better. Only a little. She’s taken to villainy as wholeheartedly as she did the law. She excels at it. She lives for him.
Harvey still isn’t talking, only staring, even when Joker slaps his face, the clean half, happy to redden the perfect cheek and honestly a little disgusted by the other.
“You’re not paying attention, Mr. Dent,” Joker says, pulling Harley by the arm an into Harvey’s unwavering line of sight. “I’ve come to pay the Piper, so start blowing.”
She’s wearing a wig and some makeup to cover what facial scarring has yet to heal. It’s a good look for her. He only had to slit one throat on the way into the heavily-guarded hospital. But it struck a different picture than Harvey had in his album of memories of her and took a little time for his eyes to shift, focus.
Waiting, arm in Joker’s grip she seems unsure and Joker feels her shake. This isn’t like his Harley, this fear. He wonders if it’s the face, or the memory, or if this was a mistake. “Pumpkin,” he says to her, “what did I tell you about being nice to Uncle Harvey?”
Eyes on Joker now she smiles, laughs suddenly, and unbuttons the front of her dress.
“Good girl,” Joker says. He crawls onto Harvey’s bed and pulls her with him, positions her in front of him to straddle Harvey’s waist. He moves behind her, sound of a zipper. Harvey still only stares, wide-eyed and disbelieving and the first words he says, broken and quiet are, “look at me”, but she doesn’t and she won’t and after a while she closes her eyes.
“You can’t have her, Harvey, not yet,” Joker says, “we’ll save that for your comeback party. But for now we’ll pretend and you can touch if you want,” he takes Harvey’s hand and places it on her breast, looking down over her shoulder, both at the contact and at Harvey’s wild expression. The plan was to fuck her on top of him but plans are like personalities, ever changing, and when his pants are off he puts her hand over Harvey’s mouth and tells her not to let the noise out, and he sinks himself onto Harvey’s erection, takes in the muffled cry with more than a little satisfaction.
If Harvey’s never fucked a man his cock doesn’t know the difference and anyway Joker’s knows a trick or two. His own moves against her smooth back and he wonders if he could get her up onto it but it seems like too much trouble because he’s going to come any second anyway, he’s sure of it. He feels her tremble against him, reaches to her cunt but she’s already helping herself. On her breast he finds Harvey’s hand where he placed it, and he fondles breast through hand. She’s laughing and he can feel her tears as they land on his fingers and when he cups his palm to catch them he comes, and Harvey after. Harvey’s been chanting “look at me” and Joker only now pays it any mind, leans forward, smiles down over her shoulder.
“She can’t see you, Phantom,” he says. “You’re not here.”
They visit him once more. Harvey stabs him with a pen before she can sedate him, but Joker only considers it Harvey’s funny idea of a greeting. After all, they were in this together now. The three of them.