Motley

Poison Ivy

When J gets caught and sent to Arkham the fall before Motley’s seventh birthday, Motley is alone. The henchmen disperse, ready to come back when Joker inevitably escapes, but unwilling to take care of a little kid. Motley remembers what J told him, and goes to Poison Ivy. One of the nicer henchmen brings him there, leaves with a, “See you in a couple months.”

Poison Ivy’s lair is green and smells of plants.
Motley knocks on the door as flowers bloom around him, gently twisting along his fingers. He goes still, because J told him to be respectful and not cut anything, but Motley doesn’t like these plants.
The door opens to a tall green woman wearing green shorts and an orange t-shirt. Her hair moves by itself. Motley has a sudden memory of smooth green hands touching his and Leen’s blonde hair tangled with red. He relaxes. Anyone who knew Leen is a good person.
“Hello…” Poison Ivy says slowly, kneeling gracefully to face him. “Did Joker finally get tired of you?”

“No. In Arkham.”
She sighs, tapping long fingers against her knees. “And of course he sent you to me. I’m not good with children.” Motley just stands there, watching her. He doesn’t yet know how to manipulate people through pity. If Poison Ivy won’t take him in, he’ll have to forage through garbage on the streets again, fight off bigger kids with his knives. “Alright, come in. I can handle you for a few months.” She stands and walks off, grass sprouting under her feet. “What did Joker name you?” she asks as they walk along flowered hallways.
“Motley.”
“God, he’s such a freak.” Motley frowns but doesn’t argue. J is always willing to admit he’s weird. “Okay, you can stay with me til Joker gets out of Arkham.”
“Thanks.”
“You may call me Ivy, like Harley did.” Motley winces and tugs at his blanket. “I will feed and house you, and, I suppose, you must be immunized to my toxins.”
“Thank you, Ivy.”
“You are welcome.”
+++
Motley falls asleep on flower beds that curl protectively around his body, eats food grown specially for him, learns about the best poisons. When he gets sick, Ivy lets him put his head in her lap, strokes his hair when she’s not thinking.
She sees Harley in his face, his cartwheels, and finds herself liking Motley. She shows him where his mother is buried, her body feeding the plants, and tells him how she dug up Harley from where J buried her, put her in here so Ivy could be with her best friend even after her death. Motley digs his fingers into the dirt that covers Harley’s ashes and smiles. He misses J like a constant ache, but he looks at Ivy and carefully decides to love her, too.

J misses Motley’s seventh birthday, on December 15th. Motley celebrates it by poisoning one of the men Ivy enchants off the street. She laughs and claps for him as the man convulses at their feet. He doesn’t tell her about his birthday.
+++
J comes back in January, with burn scars on his chest and a Batarang sticking from his shoulder. He laughs anyway, sweeps Motley off his feet and swings him through the air, smirking at Ivy.
“Thanks for, hah, taking care of the kid, Ivy,” he says, putting a hand on Motley’s shoulder. His thumb is missing a nail. He smells like smoke and blood and Motley is so happy he can’t even speak.
“It was alright, having him,” she says slowly, then bends to kiss Motley’s forehead. “I’ll see you later, Motley,” she says, walking off, and she looks calm but her plants are drooping slightly.

Motley tugs on J’s belt loop and grins. “Turned seven, J. Killed someone.”
“Motherfuck, did you really?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, congrats. I’m very proud of your ability to age and murder.” J laughs, bright and loud, and Motley can’t stop smiling.