Motley

Bruce can feel Dick’s anger before he even comes close. The boy never mastered hiding his emotions, probably never will. “Batman.”

They won’t use their real names in front of Motley. The kid could hear them, and he’s old enough to understand and repeat. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Dick sits gracefully next to him, legs crossed. They’re both watching Motley sleep, harmless and young. “He’s just a kid who wants his parents. God knows we’re familiar with that feeling.” “It’s not the same, Nightwing. His parents are murderous psychopaths.”

“You’ve got a toddler locked in a cage. Who’s the crazy one here?” “Enough, Nightwing.” Dick stands with a huff, then freezes. There’s a red dot in the middle of his chest. Dick looks up into the barrel of a gun.
+
Joker strolls laughing into the room. He can see Motley in a cell, blinking sleep from his eyes as he sits up. The kid’s whole face lights up when he sees J, and that kind of makes Joker smile. “J!”

“Hey, kiddo. I came, ha!, to rescue you.” Joker bows low to the Caped Cretins, eyes on the laser over Nightwing’s chest. “Batbrain! Bird Boy! What a pleasure!”

Batman takes a step forward, growling, but Joker tuts, waving a hand. “Don’t, ah, don’t move. Or Bird Boy gets a bullet to the heart.” He skips past them, wraps his long fingers around the bars of Motley’s cage. The kid hurries over, reaches for him. There are bruises around his neck, which kind of makes Joker want to kill everything. But he didn’t come here for pleasure.

He leans in close, lowering his voice so they can’t hear. “You okay, Mot?” The boy nods, straining until his small hand touches the lapels of Joker’s jacket. “Just scared, J. I lost Leen’s blanket, an’ now the monsters can get me.” Joker gives him his biggest smile before turning around, spreading his arms wide. “I actually didn’t come here to, haha, kill you, Batsy. I came to get what’s mine.”

His voice drops an octave as he steps forward, motioning for some henchmen to free Motley. Joker rests his hands behind his back, relaxed as he stares into Batman’s eyes, and he’s not smiling.

It’s disturbing, because Bruce has never seen Joker serious, never gotten a chance to really look at him, stare into his washed out green eyes.

The corners of Joker’s mouth twitch as he sighs theatrically. “I, oh, Batman, I gotta say...You fucked it up good this time. Because, ah, you took Motley away from me and, ha, he’s my kid. Mine. You don’t, don’t mess with other people’s kids, Batsy.” He breaks into a grin, eyes darting to Nightwing, and says, “Well, I guess you do mess with kids, but don’t touch mine.”

Motley is let out of the cell, squealing happily as he runs to Joker, wraps both arms around his leg. “J!”
Joker pats his head, gives Batman a little smirk. “I’m, hoo, gonna raise this kid to help me, Batsy. You don’t go near him, or next time there won’t be a warning before Bird Boy’s brains are splattered across the floor.”

He winks, backing out with Motley close by. “I’ll, ha!, leave you in pieces, then. Buh-bye.” The door shuts on Batman’s shocked face.
+
Bruce doesn’t move until everyone is gone, the sniper is gone and Dick is safe. Everything has changed, he’s never seen a serious Joker before and this is different. He can’t touch that kid without losing Dick and Bruce knows that would be the thing to finally break him. They don’t speak as Dick gets on his bike and drives away.
+
Joker holds Motley close to his side the whole ride home. Just an arm over his shoulders, stretches his long legs out, but the concern is there. He wants to check the kid over now, make sure he’s okay, but the men are watching so he can’t show weakness.

“Well, that was, ha, an adventure, huh, Mot?” The kid nods, smiling bravely, and Joker feels pride fill him when he realizes the kid’s got the knife in hand. “You held onto that knife the whole time?” Motley nods seriously, looking down at his lap. "I hurt the monster, J.” He mimes striking downwards.

“You stabbed the goddamn Batman?” “Mhm.” Joker ruffles Motley’s hair, making him giggle and squirm. “You are my kid, Motley. Five years old and you’re already stabbing people.” Motley beams up at him.

They reach the new base and Joker tugs Motley from the car, leads him inside. “Leen’s blanket? Where’s Leen’s blanket?” They’re alone now and Joker can fall to his knees, look the kid in the eyes. “I’ll get it for you, Mot, I will. But I, ha, I need to know if you’re hurt.”

“Nope. Fine!” He holds his arms out as if to prove it, grinning, and Joker embraces him. It’s awkward, because if Joker’s touching someone he’s usually hurting them, and he’s pretty sure he’s never hugged anyone besides Harley, but he needs to know that Motley’s safe, small heart beating comfort against his chest. “Love you, J!” Joker doesn’t push him away this time. “I know.”

Joker returns Harley’s blanket to Motley, hoping he won’t notice Ernie’s blood on it. He doesn’t, just closes his eyes and squeezes it. “Safe, J. No more monsters.” “That’s, haha, right, kiddo. I’m the only monster left.” Motley pats his knee, laughing. “You’re not scary, J.” The Joker laughs for a solid five minutes at that.
+
Motley falls asleep eventually, sprawled out on Joker’s bed. He looks worried, mouth screwed up as he dreams. Joker reaches forward, pokes his cheek, and the kid’s face smooths out. Joker leans back, folding his arms. “You’re driving me crazier, Mot. I, ha, when you got stolen I woulda saved a billion kittens to get you back. I woulda done anything.”

Motley sniffs, curling up. “Ah, don’t like feeling that way. Takes a bit of the smile of my face and I shoulda killed you earlier but, hmm, it’s too late now. Harley handed you, ha, over and you’re mine, my son.” He sits back chuckling, rubs a hand over his face. “I’m a daddy. Who’da thought?”

He spreads Harley’s blanket over Motley, feeling that parental bullshit again. “I’ll, ah, raise you wrong, that’s, haha, that’s for sure, but you’ll be happy, Mot. Never without a smile.” Joker moves to whisper in the kid’s ear, wanting him to hear this in his dreams.

“When you grow up we’ll, ha, raze Gotham to the ground and make a carnival out of her ashes and Motley, we’ll laugh forever.” He presses his scars to his son’s forehead and stands, making sure Motley has a knife before leaving the room.