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sleepyyywriter · 4 months ago

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Just You Is Enough For Me

A/N: I’d like to point out that my recollection of the movie is vague because I have only watched it once, but I needed a fix it fic asap. This one is for me but if you enjoy, yay! (Also, might’ve altered or moved events around but, you know. Fiction. Also, also! I did ridiculous research on pleas and whatnot and again, because this is fiction, I used what I liked and ignored the rest.)

Word Count: 8k

Genre: Fluff, fix-it fic

Heads up, this is not the fic for you if you liked Lee's character. Sorry.

Finally, thanks to @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend for listening to me spiral about Arthur and for giving me the space to come up with this idea. Love youuuu! 💜

The pencil in her hand snapped in half as she gazed up at Arthur, her eyes wide and the terror clear as day in them. The biggest mistake he could make at this point was firing them as counsel.

“My client needs a break, your hon-“

Before she even knew what she was doing, she had grabbed at Arthur’s suit and yanked him down, her eyes boring into his and effectively halting his protests.

She wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell him with her eyes, she couldn’t actually say anything aloud, even if she could get her mouth to open, but Y/N needed him to understand what she knew in her heart.

They were his only shot at not rotting at Arkham for the rest of his life. They were his only shot at getting the help he so desperately needed. That he deserved and had been denied his whole existence. She knew that, why didn’t he?

The voices around her sounded so distant as they looked into each other’s eyes, hers pleading and his avoidant.

No. Not avoidant. He was looking for her, no doubt. All he did was look for her, the one responsible for this shitshow. The one who was in it for the fame and publicity that came with being the joker’s girlfriend, or whatever the fuck she was.

Y/N knew about her, who didn’t? And she hated her. She told herself it was because of the harm she was causing Arthur’s case. And because it was so obvious she didn’t actually care for him. Not all of him anyway. But if she were to be honest with herself… Well. There was no time for that right not.

Right now, they had to figure out if there was a way to salvage any of this.

As they made their way to the room they were provided with by the court, Y/N could tell Maryanne was pissed. They had been dealing with the repercussions of everything Lee said and did in front of the media, and Arthur’s outburst could very well be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Maryanne herself asked to be dropped as counsel.

As the bailiff shackled Arthur to the table at the center of the room, Y/N intercepted Maryanne at the door, involuntarily cringing at the glare sent her way.

“Let me talk to him first?”

“This is not the place for your stupid cru-“

Y/N yelped and shut the door, hoping Arthur hadn’t heard that from the other side.

“This has nothing to do with that!” she interrupted, lightly shouldering Maryanne away from the door and towards the bench outside of the room. “You need to calm down. If you go in there, guns blazing, he is going to shut down and we won’t be able to convince him to stay.”

“You think we can? You think you can?” she sneered, her lips pursing in anger as she massaged her temple with her fingers.

Y/N smiled tightly and made her way back into the room, “I’m gonna fucking try.”

-----------------------------

She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, arms across her chest as she leaned into the closed door, her eyes on the squirming, hunched over figure in front of her.

A part of her was trying to find the words, nice ones at least, to try to talk some sense into Arthur. Another part of herself, the pettier side, was enjoying how uncomfortable Arthur seemed.

Good. She hoped he knew he had fucked up. She especially hoped he knew how he had hurt her feelings.

She was very aware the crush was one sided, judging by the dopey smile he got on his stupidly handsome face every time Lee was brought up. And that was okay. Really! Her main concern was getting Arthur the help he needed, not any silly schoolgirl fantasies her exhausted brain would concoct right before she passed out on her bed.

Y/N had accompanied Maryanne from day one as she worked Arthur’s case, and she thought they had formed a friendship. Maryanne of course cared for him and wanted to help; she was more centered, maybe even more professional? And that why she was so damn good at her job.

Y/N was the younger associate. She could afford to be swayed by emotions. She could afford the reassuring smiles and the daily jokes and teasing banter. She was the good cop to the clients. And more so with Arthur. She could still remember how skittish he was at the beginning. How accustomed he was to people hurting him or making fun of him, that he didn’t talk to them at all for the first three days.

It wasn’t until Y/N told a joke, a very bad one she profusely apologized for, that he finally acknowledged them. She remembered how her heart ached at the sight of his scabbing eyebrow and his busted lip. How a smile made its way to her lips at the sight of his smile, so child-like and innocent and a perfect match for the twinkling seas of juniper leaves in his eyes.

It was with that memory in her head and those emotions in her heart that she finally moved. She pulled the chair next to him and sat, her elbow on the table as she rested her face on her palm.

“What the fuck, Arthur?” she sighed, her eyes searching his.

Laughter burst from his lips, but she recognized this one. It wasn’t that breathy huff before a genuine smile painted his lips. This was the laughter he couldn’t contain. The one that hurt him and wouldn’t let him get enough oxygen into his lungs. This was the laughter that left him hunched over in pain, gasping for air and afraid.

Y/N pursed her lips, mentally kicking herself for triggering him like this, and placed her hand on his back as she hummed Durante’s Smile, hoping it was as comforting for him as it was for her.

He was always singing something, nothing she ever knew of course. He had once wrinkled his nose in the most adorable way when she had played some of her music for him, her AC/DC and Bon Jovi “too loud” for him. She had laughed and they had both agreed that music could be important to both of them without necessarily meaning the same type of music.

Still, this one was one of the few “oldies” she had in her repertoire, and she hoped it was offering him some comfort.

As his chest stopped heaving and his laughter had been reduced to sporadic bursts that didn’t leave him as breathless, he began to speak.

“Lee is trying to free me. She is helping me, Y/N.”

“Arthur,” she began, her eyes shutting as she tried to keep her distaste for Lee from her face.

“We’re going to build a mountain! We’re going to be happy! And you just want me locked up. She said-”

Her hands balled into fist over his suit, and she had to make a conscious effort to pull away and not pull at his clothes.

“She said what, Arthur?” she asked, her voice tight with poorly disguised anger.

“That you- you don’t want to help. That- that you’re like them. You underestimate me and you think I’m dumb, and you don’t care about me. And-”

She raised her hand to silence him, using the other to push away from the table and get herself to her feet, needing space from him.

“I’m here, jeopardizing my job to beg you to please let us help you. Every day I go home from the office, I have to make sure nobody is following to scream at me, throw rotten shit at me or hit me because I am defending you. Which has happened by the way. And every day, every fucking day Arthur, I go back into that office and stay there until the break of fucking dawn trying to find a way to help you. And you’re telling me I don’t care? Because the one who is actively sabotaging your defense told you so?”

Maryanne came back inside at that, surprise on her face at the tone Y/N had taken which usually only she used when she needed to strongarm stubborn clients.

“You know what? I actually don’t fucking care whether you fire Maryanne or not. I quit regardless.”

Y/N ignored Maryanne’s calls and she certainly didn’t look back at Arthur as she stormed out of the room, with what felt like her whole heart stuck in her throat as she blinked the tears away.

She knew it wasn’t fair to talk to Arthur like that and much less to up and abandon him. Even if that was what he was asking for. She had proved to him once more that everyone left him when he needed them the most, but his words had cut her too deep.

She had poured her heart into doing everything in her power to help. She had called witnesses, she had read over files numerous times, fighting through the tears as she read about every despicable thing Arthur had lived through.

When what she read began plaguing her dreams, she would get back up and continue her work at home, hoping to find the smoking gun that would get the world to see he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a product of his fucked-up upbringing and the disregard society had for the poor and ill. Arthur needed help, proper help he was not going to receive where he was currently locked up at and so every day she worked. How could he say she didn’t care? How could he believe her? Y/N was in his corner first. Which was a stupid sentiment. Childish even. She still couldn’t stop feeling it.

-------------------------------

Y/N couldn’t remember how she had gotten home. She must’ve taken the right buses because there she was, keys in her hand and her back to her door as she blinked into her dark apartment.

With a sigh, broken and drawn out, she took off her shoes and chucked her briefcase and purse somewhere into the living room. She’d look for them in the morning but now, she was a woman on a mission as she stalked toward her kitchen, two things on her mind. Vodka and ice cream.

As she carried her bowl and the entire bottle into the living room, the phone rang. She groaned and looked down at her occupied hands. There was clearly only one thing to do. Y/N poured a hefty amount of vodka into her ice cream and set the bottle aside as she grabbed the phone and carefully held it between her ear and shoulder.

“What the hell happened to ‘I’m gonna fucking try’?” the voice on the other end laughed.

“I will hang up on you if you’re calling to scream at me. Or make fun of me. I’m off the clock, you can do it tomorrow and pay me for it,” she grumbled, shoveling a spoonful of her special ice-cream into her mouth.

“You’ve been ballsy today,” Maryanne snorted and Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound.

“Can I help you or…?”

“He’s not firing us.”

“Good! Best of luck to y-”

“-on one condition. He wants you back on the case.”

Y/N scoffed, wincing as the too big spoonful of ice cream momentarily froze her brain. “And you told him to fuck off?”

“I most certainly did not. I said we would go up to see him tomorrow bright and early because you have a good head on your shoulders and a lengthy career ahead of you and you’re not going to let a stupid crush keep you from working this case, winning it, and watching your career take off.”

Y/N glared into her bowl, her eyes following the puddle forming around the lump of speckled white, both from the vodka she had added and the heat from her hands that was melting the rest.

“He’s a person. Why can’t we just help him because he deserves it? Not because of what that can do for us?”

Maryanne sighed and her tone softened, “We’re doing that too, Y/N.”

They spent a couple of minutes on the line going over ideas on how to salvage the shitshow that was today before they both agreed to meet at Arkham bright early tomorrow morning.

Y/N had an idea. She thought it would gain sympathy from the jury and get rid of Lee. That would break Arthur, but it would help their case. Even if it meant he hated her for it.

-----------------------------------

Y/N refused to look at him. It was “Mr. Fleck” this and that and even Maryanne couldn’t contain her laugh.

Still, the backstabbing bitch found a way to leave them alone for a bit, something about speaking to the warden about something. Oh, Y/N could’ve killed her.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I-”

Okay, maybe shoving an unlit cigarette in his mouth was childish, but if it kept him from speaking to her, who was actually winning?

Absentmindedly, she lit the cigarette with the lighter she always seemed to carry now. Even though she didn’t smoke. This definitely did not coincide with meeting Arthur.

Arthur sighed and took out the cigarette, putting it out on the ashtray as best he could with shackled hands before trying to apologize once more. “Y/N I-”

“You hurt me. What you said was mean and hurtful. And-” Y/N faltered as she tried swallowing down the knot in her throat. “I know she is, you know. But you know me. You know I care. And you still doubted me.”

Their eyes met and her breath caught in her chest. His eyes had the tendency to change according to his surroundings. The room they were in was poorly lit, but the pale hues of his jumpsuit still found a way to reflect on his eyes. They were favoring the ocean today, the one that used to be in her backyard during her childhood. The ocean that lulled her to sleep and brought her safety and comfort. His ocean was currently twinkling with unshed tears, and she hated being responsible for that.

Maryanne barreled into the office in that moment, not paying attention to them as she slammed a file on to the table.

“She has been lying to you and using you to get back at her rich daddy. And it’s about time you knew.”

Y/N turned to Maryanne, her eyes wide in shock. This was news to her and certainly not the plan of attack they had come up with last night. The plan was to get Arthur to denounce the Joker as a figure meant to incite riots and violence. Y/N figured that the minute that Arthur separated himself from the madness and violence done in his name by people who didn’t know or care about him, Lee would leave. Since she was just in it for the exposure. For Joker, not Arthur.

Arthur was meant to bring attention to who he was. A hardworking, devoted son who woke up day after day and went to work and sought out help and wanted to get better. He just needed a little bit of help to get back on his feet and the death penalty was not the way to go. That was the fucking plan. Not this!

“Maryanne?”

“Y/N? Did you know?”

At this, Y/N found herself at his side, his shackled hand in hers as she gazed into his eyes. “No, Arthur. I did not. Please believe me this time.”

Arthur nodded and Y/N dropped his hand, sending Maryanne a glare before she picked up the file and read on.

She could feel the warmth of Arthur’s body as he leaned into her to read the file as well.

Arthur had told her that Lee had set fire to her mother’s home. She had painted quite a story for him, and Arthur believed her.

Instead, she was a rich girl who hadn’t struggled a day in her life. What’s more, she had voluntarily committed herself for some crazy reason, and had then convinced Arthur it was his fault she was being sent away. The only truth she had ever told him was her name. “That bitch!”

Arthur stiffened beside her, and Y/N gritted an apology through her teeth. That was still his girlfriend at the end of the day.

“I want to talk to her.”

Y/N and Maryanne looked at each other; they both knew that was a bad idea. She would find a way to twist the facts and he would believe her. She would be free to continue wreaking havoc and inching him closer to the death penalty.

Arthur was trusting and more than anything, he just wanted to be loved. To be seen. That was the key to manipulating him. She could do it too. While she knew he didn’t feel the same way for her, she was aware that she become a friend to him and she could use that to get him to do what she wanted him to do. What she needed him to do for his own good.

Just thinking about it made her feel wretched and she knew she couldn’t do that. Especially after she had just begged him to trust her seconds ago. No. She had to do better. He deserved that much.

“Arthur,” she began, turning to him and taking his hands into hers once more, “can you give me a few moments of your attention? No interruptions. No questions. Just listen to me for a minute. And then I promise to listen to you. Can you do that?”

His head tilted to the side as his eyes bore into hers, trying to figure her out. Everyone always brought up his upbringing, his poverty, his low IQ. As if that made him less. As if life hadn’t seen all of that and still deemed it necessary to teach him lessons in the hardest, most despicable ways possible. Arthur had the uncanny ability to see through people’s intentions. He knew when he was the butt of the joke. But he wanted to be loved and so he put up with the taunts and the abuse because a part of himself thought it was a small price to pay to be loved. What a silly, hauntingly beautiful man. God, when had this become more than a crush?

With a nod and a squeeze to her hands, Arthur broke her from her reverie. And so she talked.

She explained how it would be a good idea to hold off on talking to her. How, it was great that they loved each other (that was a lie but he didn’t need to know that) but the public didn’t care for that. How, as much as we shouldn’t care what the world has to say about us, in this instance, public opinion literally held his life in their hands. Finally, she explained how she would not be able to live with herself if they were unable to win his case, if the same society that failed him again and again won in the end and took his life. Y/N begged him to please let her help him in the best way she knew how. She reassured him how Lee and he could go back to being a happy couple as soon as this was over and nobody would be able to tell him otherwise. What she didn’t say, however, was how she didn’t think Lee would stick around when the news outlets and camera flashes stopped following her every move. He could hate her for the rest of his life so long as he was off death row and living the life he always deserved. She could live with that.

“I know it’s not what you want. You deserve to talk to her and ask her to clear this up. I’m asking for the impossible from you, Arthur. But I need you to help me help you. Yes?”

His face was contorted in agony and despair, the lines around his eyes deepening as he furrowed his brows and a part of herself broke knowing she was once again the cause for his pain.

She didn’t speak and neither did Maryanne; they both knew the ball was now on Arthur’s side of the court and whatever he decided would dictate the course of his case.

“How much longer will this go on for?”

----------------------------------

They left with a tentative agreement from Arthur. He wasn’t willing to cut off contact with Lee for too long and so now they had the difficult task of trying to end this trial quickly, and in their favor.

“I have a feeling he would hate this. But… what if we file a written motion for a change of venue?”

“That would push the trial date back, Y/N.”

“Yes, but you know the riots and general unrest in the city are not doing him any favors. Any jury picked from Gotham is going to convict him no matter how good our case is. And-” Y/N trailed off, collapsing into the sofa in Maryanne’s office.

“-and it creates more distance between Arthur and Lee if we move it?” Maryanne finished knowingly, handing her over her own glass of whiskey.

Y/N grumbled a plea for her to be quiet and took a generous gulp of her drink, scowling at Maryanne’s laughter.

“You know, Dent is not going to agree to that.”

At this, Y/N smirked and straightened in her seat, “oh! Did I forget to tell you how he got Sophie Dumond to testify in court?”

“Did you find something?”

“No. But I can.” She begun, shushing Maryanne before she could even get a word in. “Do not ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

Maryanne nodded and with that, Y/N left her office and made her way to her own, to draft up the motion and call up one of her old contacts.

Fabricated evidence would never hold its own in court, but the threat of said fabricated evidence tarnishing Harvey Dent’s stellar reputation? Well. That would work. Y/N meant it when she said she would do everything in her power to give Arthur a fair shot at the life he always deserved. And he would never know the lengths she’d go to. Because she didn’t need him in her debt. Y/N just wanted him to have his happily ever after. With whoever and wherever.

-------------------

Lee had not taken the forced separation from Arthur well. It had been a week since they had filed the motion and had gotten it approved. Once news outlets caught wind of it no longer taking place in the city and noting Lee’s absence from the hearing, and general cluelessness about everything that was going on, they had lost their interest in her. She was no longer page one worthy news and judging by the number of times she stopped by the office, shouting and shoving at the security guards, she was not handling it well.

Which is why it was no surprise to her when she received a call from Arkham’s high security wing from a contact, letting her know Lee was currently in a visit with Arthur, despite explicit instructions to the warden to not allow her in.

She was in the area and so she quickly flagged down a cab, cursing up a storm and throwing the driver a few extra bills to entice him to break any laws necessary to get her there as soon as possible.

Once there, she knew exactly who had allowed Lee in, if the terrified expression on his face was anything to go by.

“Sullivan, I swear to God I will sue you and every single one of your fucking descendants if you don’t open this goddamn door.” She seethed, satisfaction filling her as he jumped off of his stool, his fingers clumsily clicking and clacking in his rush.

With a final glare, she stalked into the visiting area as soon as the gate was unlocked. She paused momentarily and gave a final warning over her shoulder, locking eyes with the only one who needed to hear it. “And if you take this out on Arthur, I will know. Remind me, what was your lovely granddaughter’s name again? She’s a second grader now, isn’t she?”

She watched him gulp and nod before she gave him a smile dripping with every ounce of distaste she had for him and continuing her trek.

Instantly, she caught sight of Lee’s back. She also saw Arthur. His lips pursed even if his eyes shouted the love and adoration he felt for her. Her heart melted at the knowledge that he was trying to keep his word and not talk to Lee. Even if she was right in front him and there was likely nothing he wanted more.

“What are you standing there for?” She barked at the guard in the corner. “Get her out of here. She is not an approved visitor, and you know that.”

Arthur’s eyes flew to her face the minute he heard her voice; his eyes wide and pleading, almost as if begging her to believe he had nothing to do with the woman currently in front of him.

Y/N barely had the chance to reassure him before Lee’s hand connected with her face, a sharp smack ringing into the silence of the visitation area.

Her jaw tightened as she brought her hand up to her cheek, her eyes hardening as she wiped away the blood drawn by the ring Lee was wearing.

The silence was cut by Arthur’s shout of Lee’s name and Y/N felt the proverbial butterflies in her stomach at the sight of Arthur’s angry expression directed towards Lee. His eyes, stormy and narrowed as a scowl marred his usually smiling lips; Y/N was ridiculously in love.

“Don’t you get it?!” Lee shouted, struggling against the guards who were dragging her out, “She is trying to keep us apart because the little bitch wants you all to herself!”

Y/N watched as she was finally out of the visitation area, smirking in satisfaction as she hissed after stupidly banging at the iron door keeping her out.

A part of her wanted to stay that way, her back to Arthur as she willed the universe to open up and swallow her whole. She likely would’ve stayed there long after visiting hours were over had she not heard the soft call of her name. Like a moth to a flame, like a sailor falling prey to the siren’s song, Y/N turned and closed the gap between them. As much as she could with the glass in between them, at least.

“Is it true?” Y/N didn’t know if he was asking about whether she was trying to keep them apart on purpose or even worse, about the crush, but answering neither would be of no help.

“I told you from the beginning, everything I do is for your own good. Not because you can’t make decisions on your own, but because I know how things work in these cases and I want to use that knowledge to help you. The power is in your hands, Arthur. You can choose to let me go whenever you like.”

And he could. He could choose to hire someone else. Or worse even, to represent himself. But she didn’t mean it that way and she prayed he hadn’t caught her slip up. Even if it would be good if he did.

Maybe then he could release her from the hold he had on her, a hold he likely didn’t even know about. Maybe then he could stop doing things that were confusing her. Like smiling at her like she was the only person in the world. Or murmuring her name, soft and intimate, like it was made from fragile glass. Maybe then she could get her head out of her ass and behave like the professional she was before she met him. Before she fell for him.

Oh, but sweet, shy, lovely Arthur didn’t catch it. For someone who was as in love with the idea of love as he was, he was quite blind to people who actually cared for him and loved him for him. She hated and loved that about him.

He nodded, his face softening with a smile that lit up her whole world and she cursed him and loved him a little more for it.

--------------------------------

These had been the most agonizing weeks of her life, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Arthur had been feeling. Alas, the day was finally here. Today would decide Arthur’s fate.

These last few weeks had been tedious, and Y/N had learned just how high her threshold for hate could go. More than once, she was ready to bash Dent’s head with a chair, that’s how despicable she found him. She didn’t understand how he had built a reputation of a respectable, protector of justice, when he was quite frankly a piece of shit.

Y/N had convinced Maryanne not only to change the venue, but also to move it to a more affluent area. Y/N knew there was nothing rich people loved more than pretending they cared about the little people and with the evidence they had to support Arthur’s not guilty by insanity plea, she knew the rich people who would encompass the jury would be on their side. They would be able to boast about their good deed and feel better about being filthy rich while the rest of the city died.

They wouldn’t be making the wrong call. They had more than sufficient evidence to support their claim, and anybody with half a braincell would agree that Arthur needed help in the form of rehabilitation, not incarceration.

Why then, was it that this pillar of justice was so adamant to lock Arthur up and throw away the key? Almost like he was also just after what convicting Arthur would do for his career. God, Y/N could kill him.

Arthur was a bundle of nerves beside her. She was a tad concerned that he would dislocate a knee with how he was bouncing it. She couldn’t look at him, afraid that he would see how nervous she was as well and that that would set him off, so she simply placed her hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly.

She heard him inhale to say something, but the jury walked in, the bailiff and judge right after. Her insides origami’d themselves into a gnawing creature as she helped Arthur to his feet and stood as close to him as professionally acceptable.

As the foreman affixed his reading glasses atop his nose and cleared his throat to begin reading the verdict, Y/N sent one last prayer above. This had to go in Arthur’s favor, or she didn’t know how she would live with herself.

“We, the Jury, having carefully considered all the evidence presented in this case, find the defendant, Arthur Fleck, not guilty by reason of insanity.”

Everything else was drowned out in the rush of blood inundating her head and she found herself with an armful of Arthur, his face cradled in the crook of her neck as he cried. She was counting on Maryanne to listen to the rest of the verdict as she clung to Arthur and whispered reassurances in his ear.

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“So what now?” Arthur asked, looking so fragile and small as he sat in the corner of the interview room they had been sent to as they made preparations for his transfer. The minute he had been uncuffed and had been able to decide himself where to go, he had picked that corner to retreat to.

Y/N’s heart broke at the realization that this had been the first time in years he had been able to make a decision as simple as this and she had found herself sitting next to him, his hand in hers as she traced soothing patterns on the back of it.

“Maryanne is drafting a document asking the court to take into account the time you have already served. If we are lucky, you’ll only be required the three-month rule in a state institution, and then your life begins. Well, kind of. You’ll be required therapy for the rest of your life, but that is a good thing. I will ensure that whoever sees you now actually cares and helps. I promise,” she finished with a squeeze to his hand, a smile on her face as he breathed out a soft laugh.

“Will you visit?” he murmured after some time, not quite turning to look at her but she could feel his eyes gazing at her from under his eyelashes, as if afraid of her answer.

“As many times as you want me to,” Y/N reassured, slightly distraught at how vehemently she meant that. Fuck, she was stupid in love with a man who saw her as nothing more than a friend.

“Every day,” he beamed. His eyes finally meeting hers and she marveled at the weight that had clearly lifted from his shoulders. His bejeweled emerald eyes shined brightly in the dimly lit room and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe. She didn’t think breathing was as important as not missing a second of the awe-inspiring sight in front of her. The way his chestnut locks framed his face, or the way his thick lashes dusted the thin, purplish skin of his eyelids. He was beautiful and how she wished to be the one to gaze upon him every day. Sadly…

“Have you talked to Lee?”

Her smile tightened and she cleared her throat, hoping to swallow down the distaste. “I called her myself after the verdict but got her answering machine. As soon as she calls back, I will let you know.”

“I think she’s mad. I hope she doesn’t hate me,” he mused sadly, his shoulders slumping forward.

“You did what you had to do for your wellbeing. She loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Y/N consoled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Besides, you can blame me if you want. That way she can’t be mad at you.”

His eyes searched her face until they settled on the new scar on her face, courtesy of Lee. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his free hand nearing her face, but right before he could make contact, she jumped up. Y/N didn’t know if she could come back from knowing what his hands felt like on her face.

“There is another thing we must discuss, Arthur,” she began, hoping she was successfully playing off how flustered being so close to him made her. “Medication. I know you don’t like the way you feel but taking it will likely be a requirement.”

He slumped over once more, an adorable pout taking over his lips and Y/N cursed the heavens for the feelings lighting up sparks within her.

They discussed the topic a bit more, and Y/N died a little when he admitted he was not aware he was allowed to ask to be switched to other medications until they found a good fit for him. He assumed the lifeless, zombie-state was the norm and Y/N’s heart broke a little more for him. He deserved the world and she wanted to be the one to give it him.

Maryanne came in then, a grin on her face as she sat on a chair, beckoning for the other two to do the same.

Y/N obliged and offered Arthur her hand to help him up, then guided him to a chair and took one next to him. He looked at her then, questioning, but all she could do was shrug as she did not know what Maryanne’s grin was about.

Their questioning looks soon turned to astonishment as Maryanne explained how the judge, who happened to regularly play golf with her husband, had agreed that the time Arthur had served should be taken into account. What’s more, he believed one of the ways society could atone for its sins against Arthur was to waive the three month rule and set Arthur free, to the care of a guardian who would assume responsibility for him. He would still be required to attend counseling for the rest of his life, and follow any guidelines his medical team recommended, but that was of course next to nothing compared to being institutionalized.

Y/N’s mouth hung open; she could almost feel her jaw unhinge as she tried to comprehend the feat Maryanne had just accomplished.

“I- I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Her heart, bruised and battered, broke a little more at the sound of his broken whisper and she turned to him, words of comfort on her lips before Maryanne cut her off.

“Sure you do. Y/N is the court-appointed guardian the judge, Dent and I agreed on.” Maryanne said this nonchalantly, but Y/N could hear the smugness on her voice. “By the way Y/N, verify your address with accounting. Due to your new circumstances, we’ll have to ship a PC to your home. I’m thinking you can do three days at home and two in the office? Or as necessary. We’ll figure that out later. For now, we have accommodations to make.”

She then sashayed out of the room, and had it not been for Arthur’s hand on her shoulder, Y/N would’ve sat there frozen for God know how long.

“Is- is that okay? You can say no, Y/N. I don’t want to trouble you.” He said this with a smile, and she knew that even if she refused to house him and this meant he would lose his freedom and go back to being incarcerated, he would truly not hold that against her. God, he was so good. How could anyone ever think about hurting him? When he deserved nothing short of the world?

“And why would I do that, roomie?”

The grin he gave her was like the sun peaking from the horizon on a freezing December morning. Nothing could’ve ever topped it, except for the tight hug he gave her.

-------------------------------------

It had been a couple of months since Arthur had moved in. The first few days were… a learning experience. She tried to accustom herself to having another person living under her roof, a person she had feelings for but could not act on. And Arthur was trying to remember how to be free again. As free as he could be considering the restrictions he had on him.

Y/N’s heart broke every time he forgot where he was and would wait around for the door to be unlocked and opened for him. As he waited for permission he no longer needed to accomplish mundane tasks, Y/N would approach him carefully and softly, as if afraid to shock him, and she’d remind him that he could move as he pleased. She’d remind him that he was home now (God, how she hoped he felt like he was home) and was in charge of his actions.

Without fail, wonder filled his eyes, and he looked around the room, as if taking it in and reminding himself where he was before settling on her face. And then, then he’d steal her breath as he smiled at her, soft and sweet. Oh, how she loved him.

Lee had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. As much as she didn’t want to, for Arthur, she had called in favors to try and find her. To no avail.

Last she heard, her parents had shipped her overseas to distance her from everything she had said and done in front of the cameras, but that was the last they had been able to find about her.

Arthur was of course heartbroken, but he claimed he was at least happy knowing she was safe. It didn’t matter that she no longer loved him and didn’t want to see him.

For her part, Y/N swore that if she ever saw her, she’d rip her face off and keep it as a trophy.

Today was one of the rare days off they had. Arthur had no session today and she had finished her work for the week. After breakfast, she had asked him what he wanted to do for the day and, without missing a beat, he had suggested a walk around the city.

The area Y/N lived in was on the other side from where Arthur grew up. It was decidedly nicer, cleaner and nobody seemed to know or care who Arthur was. Arthur loved going on walks whenever they both had the time, and without fail, he would steal yet another piece of her heart as he marveled at the most mundane things they encountered on their walks.

She recalled the giggle that escaped his lips the first time they had come across a flock of ducks in the park and Y/N could do nothing more but slip into a bodega to purchase frozen peas so Arthur could feed the ducks. Nothing could put a price on the delight lighting up his face.

And so, the plan was the same today. As they walked out of the familiar bodega, hand in hand and frozen peas secured, Y/N marveled at how good of a life she had.

As they made their way to the park, they stopped every few houses and marveled at the Halloween decorations adorning the streets. It was mid-October, her favorite time of the year, and she loved the way the city looked.

As they approached an empty park bench, she turned to Arthur, wanting to point out the ducks to him only to find him already looking at her.

That had been a recent development and she wished she could ask him to stop. She, of course, couldn’t do that. Not without explaining that her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and into his hands whenever he looked at her like that. Not without confessing her feelings to him, which would be incredibly unfair.

He didn’t feel that way and she had no right to take away the only safe place he had ever had. Arthur deserved a good life, he deserved to experience everything that had been denied from him his whole life and she couldn’t rob him of that by telling him about her silly little feelings.

What was she supposed to do when he told her he didn’t feel the same? Even worse was the thought of him feeling pressured to reciprocate out of fear his new world would be yanked from his feet. No. She would never tell him. But God, how she prayed he would stop looking at her like that. How she wished to dig into her chest and rip out her heart, to lock it in a box and shove it somewhere it could never come back from. How she wished not to feel. Just for a bit.

They sat at the park for what was certainly hours. He talked about his sessions and how they had finally settled on a medication that did not make him feel dead. It made him a bit sleepy, he said. But he could think, feel, and eat.

That she could attest to. He often asked for seconds during meals and just last week, when she was coming out of her room for a mid-day break from work, she had encountered a shirtless Arthur coming out of the restroom after a shower. Recovering from the shock, she turned back to her room with a squeak but not before allowing her eyes to roam his shirtless frame. She had noticed how his ribs were no longer protruding, and there was a softness cushioning his belly that was not there before when she had helped him dress for his trial, which seemed like eons ago now.

In turn, she talked about work without going into many details. Confidentiality and all. And she asked about the at-home nurse that would come in whenever Y/N had to go into the office. Arthur had no complaints and he confessed she almost felt like a mother, a proper one. Y/N grabbed his gloved hand and squeezed, a surprised squeak leaving her lips when he pressed his forehead against hers. If her breath hadn’t abandoned her, and her limbs obeyed her, she likely would’ve pushed him away. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed the tremors to wash down her back and could do nothing but nod dumbly when he suggested they head back.

--------------------------------

The walk back had been quiet. She thought she had done well at not making it awkward despite the silence from her part.

A talk would likely need to happen. If she wanted to hold on to the last bits of her sanity, boundaries would have to be set. Maybe she’d take up Sam’s weekly invitations to go out for drinks after work. Maybe that was what she needed to get over Arthur. Or to at least not go into cardiac arrest over physical contact.

He unlocked the door for them, likely realizing her dazed state and gently guided her inside and on to the couch.

Arthur left her eyesight for a bit, and she figured he had gone into his room. Even as she heard clattering in the kitchen, she didn’t turn to look, too lost in her thoughts.

It wasn’t until he reappeared in front of her, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in hand, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows like he knew she liked, that she broke through her dazed state.

“I thought you were cold, so I made this for you,” he began as he set it on the coffee table in front of her. He then reached around and grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and fluffed it before wrapping it around her. “I shouldn’t have made you stay outside this late. I forgot how cold it gets.”

Like a petulant child, she pulled the blanket over her head with a groan, wanting to lovingly punch his stupid face for making her feel feelings. This was too much for her.

Arthur laughed out a ‘what’s wrong?’ as he attempted to free her from her self-made blanket prison, soft giggles leaving him the more she fought against him.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win this battle, she broke free, furrowing her brows as she looked at the giggling man beside her.

Arthur snorted and reached over to smooth down her hair, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his cheeks flushed and lips curled in a smile.

“Arthur,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on his lap before folding hers in front of her chest, as if that was going to protect her heart.

“You know I care for you. And I will always be here for you. But-”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off. He remained silent for a few seconds before giving himself a reassuring nod. His eyes met Y/N’s briefly before he turned to focus on the long-forgotten mug. “Dr. Sloane recommended I tell you how I feel but- I’m not good with words, Y/N. I hoped my actions could, I don’t know,” he trailed off with a half-hearted shrug.

Y/N, on the other hand, was fighting through the static ringing in her ears as she tried making sense of Arthur’s words.

“How you feel?”

“I’m sorry Y/N. You’re probably just being nice. I knew you didn’t feel the same. But Dr. Sloane said I should try and-”

“Arthur!” she called to him firmly, her hands finding his as she tried to keep him from going down the spiral he currently was. “You have feelings for me?”

Arthur nodded shyly, his eyes on their intertwined hands as he rubbed the tips of his index finger and thumb together, a nervous habit he had picked up now that he was trying to quit smoking.

“You like me? But, Lee?”

“I don’t know if she was real. If what I thought she felt or what I felt for her was real. But you,” at this he smiled, so blindingly bright that for a moment she wondered how he had captured the moonlight in his smile.

“And you haven’t noticed I’ve liked you since day one?” she interrupted him, fighting a smile as his hands stiffened in hers.

Arthur’s head snapped up as his eyes searched hers, trying to decipher whether she was lying or not. She let him look, making sure to let her face and eyes shout about the love for him she had been trying to bottle up for what felt like an eternity.

“How- Y/N, how long?” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Since I set foot in that room, shitty joke in my notebook. Since you laughed, so soft and shy and then told me one of yours.”

He made a choking sound and before she could worry about hearing him choke on that laughter that rarely made an appearance now but he still feared, he had closed the distance between them by pulling her into him.

She squeaked and surprised, allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He felt so warm. So safe. So right.

“We’re going to have to talk about this Arthur!” she laughed, succumbing to the kisses being peppered on her face.

“I’m serious, Arthur. We’re going to talk.” Y/N valiantly tried once more, sighing at yet another peck to her nose. Her forehead. And the corner of her lips. God, this man was a fuckin’ tease.

He groaned before cupping her cheeks with his palms, warm and calloused. “We will, later. But can I please kiss you now?”

It was Y/N’s turn to silence him, her lips finding his and her eyes fluttering shut. She didn’t know how the fireworks going off in her stomach had travelled to just behind her eyelids, but as Arthur pressed his lips to hers, urgently yet sweetly, she found she didn’t really care.

In that moment, nothing mattered. Not the road they had travelled to get here. Not where the road would take them tomorrow. All that mattered to her now was how his lips, chapped and warm moved against hers. How his hands felt, one on her back, branding her with his fingertips through her clothes. The other on her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her skin, staking claim to what had long belonged to him.

Nothing mattered but him. Always him. Forever him.

#joker folie a deux #joker: folie à deux #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck fic #arthur fleck fluff #arthur fleck self insert #i have NEVER written 8k for anybody #oh the man you are arthur #excuse any mistakes. very minimal editing was done #kinda proud of this considering its been years since I last wrote for arthur...or at all

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