Motley

Parenting

The Joker doesn’t remember being a child. He doesn’t remember much at all, actually. Nothing good to think of anyway. He prefers to live in the present. Children are rarely allowed near him, of course. His impression of them has been of slimy, screaming dwarves that people will do anything to rescue.

But here’s his kid, looking up at him with trust. The thought is enough to make Joker laugh. Trust! This kid trusts a freak like him! “My legs hurt. Carry me?” Joker glares down at the kid, who’s attempting to grab hold of his hand. Joker has never held hands with anyone. Well, possibly Harley, but he can’t remember.

“Uh, sure.”

Motley throws his arms around Joker’s neck and snuggles in, laying his head on Joker’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Who the fuck told you to call me Dad?” Joker snaps. Motley leans back to look at Joker, eyes hardening in a familiar glare that looks odd on a five year old.
Despite himself, Joker is impressed. His kid is tough. “You can call me...J. Like your mom did.”

The kid gets hopeful and puts his head back on Joker’s shoulder. “You mean Leen? When Leen come back?”

“Shut up, kid.”

Motley is sleeping by the time they get to Joker’s room. There’s drool on Joker’s nice coat. He curls his lip with disdain and wipes it away, leaving the boy on the bed. He fills up the bath, then puts his head in his hands.
What the fuck is he doing? The Joker, taking care of a kid. He’ll be laughed out of Gotham. Or, he can make the kid tough. A sidekick, just like Batsy’s precious Robin, without the fuckin’ tights. He turns when he hears footsteps. Motley is up, rubbing at both sleepy green eyes with his fist. Harley’s blanket drags behind him like a cape.

“J? Hungry,” he mumbles.

“Later. You’re taking a bath now. You reek.” Motley pulls his clothes off, keeping the blanket and knife. “You can’t bring those in the bath.”

The kid’s face closes as he shrinks into himself. “No. These are mine.”

“Give them to me or I’ll destroy them,” Joker snarls, hand automatically going to his knife. He stops when the kid backs away. “Okay, okay, what if I put them, ha, on the sink, right here? Is that good enough?” Motley nods slowly and hands his stuff over.

“Knives get rusty if you leave them near water, Motley.” Motley ignores him and steps into the water. He’s a skinny kid, starved really. His ribs are prominent beneath pale skin. There’s a mottled bruise on his hip, and scars on the back of his leg. Joker wonders if Harley gave them to him.

“J? Need help.”

Joker comes back to the present. “Eh?”

Motley is sitting in the tub, splashing at the bubbles. He points to his hair with a soapy hand. “Clean my hair.”

“Hell no. Do, ha, do your own hair.”

“Can’t. You do my hair,” Motley orders, bottom lip jutting out.

“Fucking...fine. Whatever.” Joker grabs the shampoo and squashes it on Motley’s head.

The kid squeals and pulls away. “No! Gentle.” The Joker sighs angrily and runs his fingers through Motley’s hair. The kid’s hair is almost to his shoulders. Probably never been cut.
It looks like gold. Joker is fascinated. He can’t remember his original hair color. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t have green hair. Motley grins and rubs his head against Joker’s hands. “Better.” He wriggles around in the tub, splashing soap on his stomach. The water in the tub is grey when Motley’s finally done.
His dripping hair is slick against his back, soaking the floor. “All done, J!”

Joker tosses him a towel. “Dry off. I’ll feed you when you’re done.”

“Kay.” Motley dries off and wraps Harley’s blanket around himself, making sure he has the knife. “J! I don’t have clothes.”

“I’ll get you some. Eat.”

Motley’s eyes light up when he sees food. A bowl of Lucky Charms. It’s finished in minutes. He leans back, staring at the glass in front of him. “J, what’s that stuff?”

“It’s cranberry juice, kid. You’ve seriously never had any?”

Motley giggles and shakes his head. “Nope. It looks like blood.”

The Joker chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it kinda does.”

Motley takes a sip and grimaces. “Ew.” He shoves the glass away, and sits back, crossing his arms. “Bathroom.”

Joker raises an eyebrow. “You’re on your own there, boy.”

“I know. I’m a big kid!” Motley hurries to the bathroom.