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Dark Humor	By : xxnadsxx Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Batman (All Movies) > Batman (All Movies) Views: 2361 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
AN:
Hi everyone! Welcome to my Dark
Knight fanfic, �Dark Humor.�
It�s loosely based on the Dark Knight events all the way up to Harvey and
Rachel�s wiring to explosives�the part where Batman has to choose on whether to
save Rachel or Harvey Dent. From that point onward, this fanfic
is purely creative speculation, towards the �what-ifs� that COULD have (but
probably wouldn�t) happened if Batman had chosen to save Harvey Dent rather
than Rachel (and therefore, ended up saving Rachel because Joker switched the
addresses on him, remember?)
Meaning Harvey Dent is dead, Gotham
is in chaos, Rachel is distraught and victimized, and ends up changing
dramatically from then on, becoming darker, making choices she never thought
she would make to get her own vengeance�but what if the Joker steps in on the
aftermath of Harvey�s death to intervene and take advantage of her
vulnerability?
Yes, this is a JokerxRachel
fanfic (or Jokachel for
short). There�s not many out there, and for some reason I really like extremely
unlikely/impossible pairings if following the original storyline of things, and this is obviously one of them. I also love
making these pairings as realistic as possible. Obviously Rachel and the Joker
will have a very twisted relationship, if even considered one. And obviously
it�s going to take a lot to put that twisted relationship into realistic
proportions.
So I�m going to try and do that
within this extremely dark little fanfic that I�m
ready to pour my heart and soul into because I love the Joker and I don�t like
a one-dimensional vulnerable portrayal of Rachel and I like the two of them
together. Sound good?
Bear with me. This first chapter is gonna suck�but I promise it will pick up later on! Please
read and review because I love and reply to all my feedback�and enjoy.
P.S. No sex until much later I�m
afraid. Just as a warning there will be a lot of story before that comes in.

Dark
Humor
One
It had been a day since his death,
yet she could mourn forever.
�I�m sorry, Rachel.�
It was empty everywhere. Emptiness
was inside of her body, cold and pervading and relentless, flowing through her
veins like poison. Emptiness filled the air around her with a stale deadness,
filled even her ‑�
eyes to the point that it was no longer possible to her to shed
the once endless stream of tears. Her mind was empty, devoid of any logic, any
reasoning or understanding as to what was happening, who the voice belonged to
that spoke to her now in such soothing, desperate tones to comfort her. It was
all, for a moment, wonderfully, ecstatically empty, her world for
once free of all the chaos and fear and terror that had stricken her daily
life, had always enveloped her in the vulnerability of her own humanity. The
fact that her life had just been on the line, that she might have
been�and very well should have been�the person to have died tonight as
Gotham�s most recent victim from all that bastard�s madness�
�Oh, God,� She moaned, her body
suddenly convulsing on its own as Rachel found herself falling forward,
straight into Bruce Wayne�s solid, strong arms.
The tears came then, hot and
piercing, a new wave of ferocious pain so strong she was sure the tears would
leave scathing burn marks across her red cheeks. She was still unable to
register the events in her mind; the feeling of having been restrained, tied to
a chair and forced to silently count down, with her lover on the other end, the
minutes before her own death. And they had both been so sure of it�both
so sure she was going to be the one to die. She had accepted it. She had almost
yearned for it, as sickening as it was to contemplate afterwards,
because it meant keeping Harvey alive, keeping the fragile hope that had been
Gotham�s backbone as stable as possible amidst the destruction. Harvey Dent had
never deserved to die. If anything, Rachel knew she should have been the next
innocent civilian in the trail of a madman�s bloody path of massacre if it
meant protecting those who truly mattered.
But something had ruined it all, and
she was still here. Bruce�s hand was pressed against the back of her
neck as she sobbed freely into his chest, not caring about her shaken display
of human weakness at this very moment. Strong, almost rough fingers�a
vigilante�s fingers, used more to battering than comforting�tangled in her
hair, almost stroking it as she shuddered and eventually calmed, her body
heaving against him as if wracking for air. It hurt, this grief, this feeling
she had never quite felt before in her life. It was as if Rachel had lost a
vital part of herself, as if the fucking murdering bastard that had stolen Harvey�s
life had torn out her heart and sank his dagger straight into the bleeding,
throbbing organ, cutting it away until there was nothing left but crumpled,
torn arteries and something that could never possibly function on its own
again.
Yet as her breathing slowed after
what seemed an eternity, the woman�s brain began to function again, just
slightly enough that she realized Bruce was still holding her, his body still
and frigid as a statue. She gave a deep, shuddering sigh that felt as if it
wracked her entire body, biting her lip and tasting the own bitter salt of her
tears as the very last of them ran down her cheeks in hot daggers. Raising her
head hesitantly, she gazed up at Bruce Wayne�s face�the face of the second most
important man in her life�and saw the hardness of his almost coal-black eyes,
realized the conflicting mass of emotions that lay beneath those ruddy irises.
�Bruce,� She sighed, her voice
shaking with the effort to restrain the emotion from her voice, �What happened?
Why�why did you save me?�
‑�
Goddamn her voice, she thought, for
all its shaking and glaring weakness. Every syllable was an incessant
trembling, as she voiced the grim thoughts that had plagued her mind ever since
Batman had thrown himself through the endless rows of barrels and almost flown
to her, saving her from her would-be inevitable death.
Yet when he had come for her, when
she had seen those black eyes, always sharp and resilient against the black of
the mask, she had screamed. She had screamed and thrashed against her chair,
had begged him to turn back, to go away, to go to Harvey ,to save him, oh
god, please save him, I don�t deserve this, I don�t deserve this please we both
know it�s Harvey it has to be Harvey let me go please�
And his eyes, the entire time they
had found her face, had been uncharacteristically wide with horror. She hadn�t
been the only one to believe something had gone terribly wrong in those final
moments. When the warehouse burst into flames, and she had shut her eyes and
prayed that those fires had consumed her in her moment of panic, had
even struggled and fought in Bruce�s iron grip to reach out for that fire, to
somehow make things right and save Harvey in the process�she knew it wasn�t
supposed to be like this. Her life was an accidental occurrence, and even she
had not thought it deserved saving.
Those dark eyes met hers now with
the same confusion that she herself felt. Rachel bit her quivering lip and
fought back a heavy sigh, knowing they had all been victims yet again. Victims
of another trick from the sadist that had thrown them all into the jaws of
chaos, had damned them into deserting and causing the deaths of each other
through choices only amusing to the insane and unredeemable. Her body, fragile
and shaking to the bone, was filled with sudden adrenaline at the thought of
the murdering bastard�at the thought of her hands around his neck, the thought
of Batman pummeling his face to a pump, and perhaps even herself, turning the
knife upon his goddamned smiling face�
�Rachel.�
Bruce�s voice penetrated her
thoughts, brought a wave of sudden, almost alien calm to her frenzied emotions.
Rachel saw his face through her blur of fresh tears, blinking them away with an
inaudible curse at her damned tear ducts. His gaze was wiped free of the conflicted
emotion, now, wrinkled only with a worry that cast an almost sickly pall over
his hardened face. She sighed again, before forcing a smile to crack upon
unwilling lips,
�Bruce�thank
you for saving me. Thank you,� The words felt so artificial coming from
her lips, yet perhaps she could force herself, or even Bruce, to believe them
if they were repeated, �But�I can�t think of anything else right now, other
than what�s going to happen to Gotham�to everyone�because Harvey��
Damnit, Rachel, get a hold of yourself!
Her foot dug hard into the floor
beneath her, fists clenching and biting into skin. Rachel bit her lip and
almost tasted blood with the strength of it, turning her head to the side. The
guilt washed through her ‑�
like a wave of nausea, guilt so strong she could feel it
emanating from Bruce�s body and tainting his penthouse.
�Rachel, Gotham will be all right,�
Bruce replied, gazing not at her, but at the window nearby, his eyes narrowed
and turned so she wouldn�t be able to see the emotions upon his face,
�Harvey�Harvey wouldn�t have wanted any of us to give in, and you know that. We
all know that. Not one of us is going to back down and give into the Joker�s
demands. We�re going to��
He hesitated, then, as Rachel felt
herself flinch at the murderer�s name. Her teeth clenched; her body burned with
the sudden onslaught of adrenaline and rage that threatened to consume her at
that very moment.
��We�re going to avenge Harvey�s
murder, and bring the Joker to justice. We�ll stop all the chaos. We�ll get
him, Rachel, I swear to you we will.�
He turned towards her, suddenly, his
tall frame almost towering over her, his eyes pleading now, with some other
look upon his face�something all too familiar from the days when Rachel had
just met Harvey, had just gotten to know the man she had so loved after Bruce
himself. It was the longing in his eyes, amidst the death and destruction that
they had just survived through, the longing that struck Rachel as the most
disgusting thing to have happened within the hour.
�Bruce,� She hissed, and then
it, too, became an exhausted sigh, �Bruce�I just��
She pressed her hands against the
glass of the window before them, gazing out across the towering buildings of
Gotham, reduced to almost menacingly black figures under the brilliant gold and
jasper of the setting sun. Her stomach heaved again with the nauseous,
contorted waves of emotion; the horrific guilt, the aching grief, the agonizing
weakness, the unrestrained rage�
Rachel didn�t realize her fingers had
been trembling violently against the glass until Bruce�s warm hand pressed
against her own. How strange and cold her hand had felt just then, as stiff and
dead as a corpse�s. A grim, dark humor bubbled within her mind at the thought;
perhaps she hadn�t made it out alive, after all. Perhaps she really had
died back there, and this was her ghost, speaking to Batman, grieving over the
loss of her loved one. She entertained the thought for awhile until she
realized the absurdity of it, and her mind struggled to focus again on the here
and now, on what she would do next with her life, what she could do
while Gotham was mourning the death of its one, true hero for decades and
decades to come.
�Rachel, please, please get some rest here for the night. After what happened�after
almost losing you, and after�after everything else, I��
She shut her eyes, not wanting to
see the look on Bruce�s face as he spoke, not wanting to see his own trembling
fingers upon her own. Not while they weren�t Harvey�s�not while Harvey�s voice
hadn�t been her last. How unfair it was, that her voice was his finality, and
his had not been the same for her�how cruel and sick it was, like a
joke. Like a damned joke. God, could the rage get any worse? It twisted
inside ‑�
of her like a worm, as if it were eating away at all that
remained of her feeble composition, nagging and horrific�
�Bruce, it�s okay,� She replied
mechanically, snapping her eyes opened again, �Really�I�ll be okay. I
can�t�thank you enough for helping me, really. But��
Forcibly, Rachel pressed her other
hand over his own, the dead coldness swallowing up his warm skin like a silent
finality,
�I need to be alone. I need�to
think, and to deal with things. And I need��
She took in a deep, hard breath, so
rapidly her lungs burned with the effort,
�I need to go back to headquarters
right now. I need to think about my job. To think about Gotham, and so should
you.�
Bruce�s eyes hardened in protest; he
jerked his hand away from hers, his brows knitting over his darkened gaze,
walking slightly towards her as he spoke,
�Rachel, I don�t want to leave you
by yourself, unprotected and hurt. The Joker just captured and tried to kill
you, and who knows how long he�s going to stay pent up in his little prison
cell? I can�t let that happen to you�not again! You need to stay here
tonight, where you can fully recover, and I�m sure Harvey wanted that too, I�m
sure he would want you to be taken care of!�
God, he has to be joking.
Rachel�s eyes shut again, if only to
control the sudden wave of fresh anger, stronger than ever before. Her emotions
had been turbulent, unpredictable, raging like a storm since her near-death
incident, and now she was fighting as hard as she could to keep it at bay, if
only to keep herself from lashing out regrettably against her savior.
�Bruce, please,� She replied
in a near-hiss, her teeth clenched tight against tongue, �Please don�t
act like Harvey right now, not when no one can ever replace him. I don�t
really care about my safety anymore, and I doubt the Joker will be bothering
me anytime soon since he�s locked away.�
For a moment, she almost regretted
the words that came so harshly from her mouth�Bruce�s gaze seemed hurt, yet a
sickening sense of smugness filled her at her retaliation,
�Now�please, just let me go to headquarters.
Alfred can drive me, if you want�but I need to take care of myself. I�m a big
girl. I�ve been through hell tonight, and really, this is where I have to go
back to doing my job. Hell, maybe I�ll even have a chat with the Joker while
I�m down there.�
As she said the last sentence, she
knew it had been originally intended as a joke, perhaps to lighten the mood�yet
both she and Bruce�s bodies grew tense at the name, and her teeth clenched
again, her blood hot and sharp with the violent images in her mind. Was it
possible to be so sickeningly, wantonly chaotic in her almost lusty
desires to enact pain upon another human being? She would have thought it ‑�
impossible before, but now, as she suddenly stared down at her hands,
Rachel could only see them reddened with blood.
Stop it, you�re being delirious,
you�ve just been through extreme trauma and you�re thinking of revenge. It�s a
normal reaction, your anger�you just need to sleep through the night, and you
need to get yourself back together. You need to fix yourself again, put things
back to normal.
Nothing would ever be normal
anymore.
�Rachel, please. I can tell by your
expression, you�re not okay. You�re not going to be okay for awhile, just let
me��
She cut off the pleading of his
voice automatically, her tone curt and sharp,
�Let you what? Comfort me?
Return to how things were before Harvey? Please, Bruce. There�s no going
back. I was going to marry him, and I wasn�t going to look back�not even for
you.�
Rachel turned on her heel, then, her
head hanging slightly; she knew the surprise that would be etched upon his
face, surmising that perhaps he hadn�t read her letter yet after all. Her body
lurched with uncomfortable pain at the thought of her old friend�s sadness�but
at the same time she also felt that horrific smugness intensify, as if she were
enforcing her own strength through playing at his weakness.
None of it made sense. But she was
so sick now, so sick and tired�she just needed to sleep. She just needed to
press rewind, to wake up, to make this all go away.
�Rachel.�
The attorney turned on her heel and
summoned up the remainder of her shaky, convoluted strength to propel her legs
forward through the room, towards the nearest exit. Bruce�s last word had been
more of a submission, of a grim farewell than anything else, and she knew it.
As her heels clacked in a soft staccato against the tiled floor, she welcomed
the continued rage that rippled throughout her body and bloomed in her heart,
gazing out at the final tendrils of the setting sun through the penthouse
window.
There was nothing but smeared blood
across the sky.
oOo
�Where to,
dear? Your apartment?�
Alfred�s cheery voice seemed
constantly unaffected by the happenings around it, as if the only reliable thing
in Gotham city. His constant calm was almost comforting to Rachel as she
mentally staggered through the overwhelming changes, the tragedy, and the pain.
A small, genuine smile almost prickled across her face as she replied, as
smoothly as possible,
�Not this evening, Alfred. I�ll be
going to headquarters. I have some work to do before the day is over.�
A long pause came from the front
seat, where Alfred had been driving. She nestled her body against the
comfortably cushioned backseat, wanting with an overwhelming urge to curl her
arms around her knees and lay her head upon them in the fetal position. Like a
child. Like an animal, even�so desperate for comfort amidst fear. Disgust
wracked her nerves at that thought, at being so pathetically weak, and she
wiped away the images, replaced them only with cold determination.
Alfred replied, then, his voice
still as cheery as before, though considerably lower,
�Are you sure that�s the best course
of action for the night? Master Wayne said you were going there, of course, but
you do need rest and recovery for the morning. Gotham needs you more than ever
since the other day�s events�and so do we. Even Batman
needs time to recover.�
But what I want to do�is get justice
the fastest way possible. Get some retribution for the dead. Something
for�for Harvey.
Rachel�s eyes closed for what seemed
to be the umpteenth time that evening; it was a habit she was getting, perhaps
to escape from a stressful situation.
But there�s never any escape. Didn�t
you learn that only yesterday? It follows you, it haunts you, it hunts you�the
memory, for the rest of your life. Or at least until you can
do something about it.
�Ms. Dawes?�
Rachel took a breath and opened her
eyes, gazing into Alfred�s own worried pair through the rear-view mirror. Her
fingers clenched and unclenched against her lap.
�Alfred,
thank you for the concern.
But Batman overtaxes himself�and I know how much I can handle. I�m not going to
do anything�just talk. Nothing more.�
Alfred�s eyes hardened, if that were
at all possible for his gentle features. Rachel knew he could read her even
better than Bruce, perhaps because of his years of experience, encompassing
hardships and moments of perseverance that she would be unable to even think
of, yet alone see herself experiencing in her near
future. He would know she was seeking an encounter with the Joker, some
interrogation time alone while he was imprisoned, and she didn�t even need to
voice her intent. Alfred could see it all in her expression, her demeanor, as
if she were a book to be consistently laid open for his reading pleasure.
Again, the thought of her own
horrific vulnerability; of being physically, mentally weak, surrounded by
almost supernaturally strong criminals and vigilantes�it brought back the
nausea in her gut, the sickening sensation of guilt that was so strong it could
only be accompanied by a jarring pain. Always the mouse
amidst the hungry cats. The prey. The bait.
�Keep in mind,
if it is the Joker you seek to interrogate, to even get a scrap of information
out of�he will be unyielding. He is a man out only for seeing others suffer,
Ms. Dawes, just as you were recently ‑�
subject to. I believe only encountering him again will lead to
frustration, anger�anything but what you may wish for.�
�I just want to talk to him,
Alfred�just��
Her words trailed; she clenched the
soft leather cushioning of the backseat, her nails scraping against its
surface, unable to decipher any logic in her intentions or compulsion to
interrogate the criminal who Batman couldn�t even truly crack. All Rachel knew
was that her emotions; her raw, hurt, ravaged emotions, were possessing her,
pushing her forward to this madman, to see how he really played with his
victims, to get into his mind. It was seemingly impossible, yet�God, if she
could look into the eyes of Harvey�s killer, to know he would be
locked up in his little cell forever, suffering solitude, that the horror was
finally over, that Harvey was the last person he managed to�
As if he could read her mind, Alfred
nodded, nothing but sympathy and understanding in his almost heavy voice,
�Of
course, Rachel. I understand completely.�
oOo
She had Alfred drop her off a few
blocks before the station; she needed the walk, and she needed it badly. Rachel
hadn�t been in fresh, actual air of the outside world since the incident
yesterday night�well, not mentally, at least, not amidst her horror and
panicked state of mind as Batman had pulled her out of harm�s way and taken her
directly to the hospital, and then, ignoring any arguments on her part,
straight to his penthouse for complete recovery. It was a sick joke, the way
Bruce thought he could still command certain aspects of her life�they way he
would hoist her around at times, like she was some delicate little china doll,
something of glass in a world of hard, unforgiving surfaces, waiting to be
shattered the moment he�d turn his head in the opposite direction.
But she wasn�t so completely
helpless. She was still on her two feet at this moment, still standing, still
walking resolutely forward (and quite literally) since the death of her lover.
Of course, it still stung; of course, her mind was reduced to shambles at the
moment, and she was being pulled towards the police station just for the sake
of relishing those sweet victorious emotions that would come with seeing the
Joker imprisoned�but it would only help. It would only get better,
wouldn�t it, now that the greatest tragedy that could have possibly hit Gotham
had indeed happened, and anything more was unimaginable?
It could only get better after
things got worse. Alfred had said something like that to her before, and she
was repeating it now as a silent mantra in her head. The station would be
coming up soon, and she raised her head at the thought; she couldn�t let them
see her weak, vulnerable, not for one moment. Not when she wanted to
interrogate the Joker. They would think she�d be incapable of it, still
recovering, her mind still in the throes of chaos and panic from losing him�
Shut the fuck up and concentrate.
You�re at the doors.
Yes, she would be fine. She would be
completely�
�Oh my
fucking God.�
Everything was burning.
The police headquarters was reduced
to a mass of rubble and debris, as if it had imploded in on itself, the rustic
building a hilltop of brick in uneven places, traces of roaring, seething fire
and destruction still raging in others. Her knees buckled beneath her slacks,
her hand clutched toward the nearest rail of the stairway before the crumbling
building, breath short and frantic in utter disbelief. What had happened?
What was going on? What�
A shower of paper fluttered amidst
the debris before her�and as she bent forward, she recognized them as cards.
Countless cards buried amidst brick and rubble, imbued
with the face she so despised, the face she hated, the face that made bile rise
to her throat and that murderous instinct pump in her veins yet again. Pushing
away her nausea, her trembling, she made her way across the stairs and through
the nearly unhinged doors.
The explosion had been recent;
perhaps an hour ago, perhaps even less. She was coughing against an onslaught
of thick, churning smoke and stepping across more and more fallen brick and
wood and debris, making her way through what used to be the solid remnants of
headquarters, traversing across vacated jail cells, some smattered with rapidly
drying blood. She wondered, her heart pulsing heavily against her ears, whether
the bastard was still here, whether he had escaped, whether this had all been his
doing in the first place.
Yet she knew it was. Who else would
be so disgusting, so heartless? Forcing back another potentially loud cough
against the smoke, Rachel stalked across a pathway of familiar bodies tangled
beneath her�officers caught in the explosion, their faces mangled and frozen still
in death; some wide-eyed, some as if they were sleeping, some wounded and
disfigured. The source of the explosion came up soon enough�she bit her lip and
covered her mouth, fighting the fresh wave of bile and nausea at the sight of
the bloated-looking former prisoner, his stomach torn completely open, innards
on display and slashed in a bloody red, dripping mess for all
the world to see. God, the smell, the thickness of his blood�could a
human actually bleed so much?
Her heels were slick against the ever-growing
red pool of the man�s insides, and at first she was afraid she would slip into
the sea of bloody red, struggle and drown in it all. A dark, humorous streak
followed that thought, and she had the sickening urge to laugh�desperation
against her situation, which only seemed to grow worse and worse. If he was still here�
If he�s still here, I�m going to see
him. And maybe he can finish the job he had intended by wiring me up in the
first place. The job that ended the way it wasn�t supposed to end. Maybe then
it will be fair this way. Or maybe�maybe I could avenge Harvey�
That thought seemed funnier than
that of drowning. She actually fought the conscious urge to laugh; yet it was a
bitter chuckle, knowing her efforts would be futile.
But how could she live with herself
not even trying?
How could she live with herself at
all anymore?
Rachel pushed all thoughts aside at
the sight of a familiar desk nearby�her desk, where she knew some of
Harvey�s possessions had been stored before�the incident. She quickly ran
towards it, a sense of relief flooding her veins for once in these past two
horrific days. With a jerk of the cabinet, Rachel rummaged through desperately,
hissing rapid expletives beneath her breath in frustration as she searched, and
finally pulled out one of Harvey�s pistols, which she knew to still be loaded.
At least I�ll be armed before I die.
But there could be no one here. The
building was relatively empty, and she knew the firemen and hospital trucks
would arrive soon enough. A destroyed headquarters would not go unnoticed, and
the bastard would have run like a dog with his tail between his legs,
slobbering his filth all over anyone who crossed his path. She turned on her
heel, knowing the silence could only mean that he was not there after all�
And then a hideously familiar cackle
rang just behind her tensed body, and Rachel stood frozen in place.
There was a scream�a man�s scream,
also familiar, yet contorted, twisted in what could only be incredible pain�
No. Not again. This needs to stop!
Without thinking, her feet sprang
forward, lunging for the nearest room in which the incessant, high-pitched,
shrieking laughter ensued. Rachel had no time to consider what she was getting
herself into, what she would find, what her chances even were of coming out of
this alive.
The door to the interrogation room
was wide open, and it was waiting for her.
She stepped through.

Again, I know�not the best first
chapter, I apologize. By the way, I realize Joker's escape from jail in the
movie went on the same time Rachel and Harvey were kidnapped, yet I guess I
decided to take creative liberties in my own hands and use this as the
opportune moment for their first encounter. His escape is still within a short
amount of time since then, anyways. I just got the inspiration for this �fic after reading some really amazingly good Jokachel fanfics earlier in the
day and now I�m writing this all night because I think I am in love with the
Dark Knight and if I could marry a movie we would be stepping down the aisle
right now�haha. Anyway, reviews are appreciated and
vital to my updating�and if I want to continue this or not. Oh, there WILL be a
Chapter 2 very very soon, because that�s where Joker
comes in, and I really am eager to write and portray him�like, craaaaaaazy eager. But now I have to sleep because it�s 6
a.m. and I just finished typing this out and ahhhh
sleep!! �Til next chapter, everyone!

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