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Post by The Joker on Oct 31, 2010 20:29:19 GMT
((Set a few years in the future of canon game time))
It had started off as a cough. Joker had a very strong immune system and figured he could just shrug it off like normal. He pushed on and continued his work, ignoring the deepening cough, fatigue and chest pain.
He'd been preparing for a job when things went downhill. He was outside in the snow with a few of his men, teaching them how to fight in adverse conditions. A coughing fit overtook him and his knife slipped from his hands. Joker had gone to his knees, clutching his chest as the fit racked his thin body. His men had hovered nervously as their boss spattered the snow with red.
Breathing heavily, Joker had hauled himself to his feet and stalked off (as much as one could stalk when shaking violently) to the nearest vehicle. He hopped in and tore off into Gotham city.
Though he was loathe to admit it, Joker was very sick. He needed someone to help him get back to health. Harley was in Arkham and that really limited his options. It had been quite a while since he'd spoken to Harvey or Olivia, but they wouldn't turn him away.
Well, he hoped they wouldn't turn him away.
He parked the car and stumbled up to their penthouse, stumbling through the halls. Luckily for him, the door was unlocked and he slammed the door behind him, wincing at the sound.
"Olive?" He called, voice hoarse. "Harvey? I need..." He clung to the table in the entry as another wave of coughing struck him.
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Post by Olivia Hale on Oct 31, 2010 20:52:07 GMT
Olivia was used to being home alone. Harvey tended to work late, leaving her to her own devices. Given that she lived with Harvey Dent and was in a very good part of town, she rarely locked the door. It just seemed pointless. Most people in Gotham knew that breaking into the Dents apartment was suicide.
She'd been fixing herself something to eat in the kitchen when the door opened. She stiffened at the sound of Joker's voice. Kitchen knife held loosely in one hand, she crept into the entryway.
"Oh my God!" She exclaimed at the sight of Joker. His make-up was rubbed almost completely off and his hair was badly disheveled (and in need of a wash). The sound of his cough made her wince. She bit her lip, weighing her options. Joker wasn't exactly the best person to have around but she couldn't leave him like this.
She tossed the kitchen knife aside and went to him, drawing a sharp breath at the feeling of how warm he was. "Come on, J, let's get you cleaned up. A nice shower will help and I'll make you some soup. Here, let me get you some of Harvey's clothes to wear."
She dashed into the bedroom and grabbed one of Harvey's undershirts and then flit around anxiously, trying to figure out what to give him for the bottom. She finally decided he could just wear his own boxers and walked back into the living room, tossing him the shirt.
"Here, now go shower. I'll have some soup ready for when you're done."
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Post by The Joker on Oct 31, 2010 21:02:03 GMT
Joker moved into the living room when Olivia disappeared into Harvey's bedroom and collapsed onto the couch, wishing his chest would stop hurting. He had never felt so miserable in his whole life.
The shirt fell onto the table in front of him and he picked it up. "Thanks, Ol." He muttered as he pulled himself to his feet. He swayed slightly but managed not to topple back over. He stumbled into the bathroom and stripped. He turned on the water and stepped into the shower, teeth chattering even though the heat was as high as it would go. The remainder of his make-up washed off in tiny rivers of white, red and black on the tiles. He fought to keep his eyes opened as he shut the water off and stepped out.
He pulled on Harvey's shirt and then slid on his own boxers, loose fitting black ones with a yellow batsignal on the front.
Shaking and coughing, he walked back into the living room where Olivia was sat waiting for him. Without a word, he curled up on the couch next to her, resting his fevered head on her lap.
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Post by Olivia Hale on Oct 31, 2010 21:05:45 GMT
Olivia frowned as Joker curled against her. He was acting so out of character that it was frightening. She pulled a blanket over his shivering form, allowing a small smile at the sight of his boxers. He could be quite endearing when he wanted to.
She absently began running her fingers through his wet hair as she waited for Harvey to come home.
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Post by Harvey Dent/Two-Face on Oct 31, 2010 23:03:06 GMT
It was late in the evening before Harvey returned to the apartment. It was cold out - winter had come early to Gotham this year. Although it was only early November, the snow was already beginning to cover the ground.
A biting wind brew Harvey's coat around him as he left the car and made arrangements for the morning with his driver. He made his way quickly inside the apartment building, glad to be out of the cold. A hot drink, a quick supper and then bed, he thought. It had been a long day, and an even longer night.
He stripped off his gloves in the elevator, then shrugged off his coat as he made his way into the aprtment. The lights were still on - that was odd. Olivia would normally have been in bed by this time. He opened the door to the living room and stopped dead at the sight before him. His gaze flickered between Olivia and the man curled on the sofa beside her, jaw tightening slightly.
"Joker..."
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Post by Olivia Hale on Oct 31, 2010 23:12:49 GMT
Olivia could have wept with relief when Harvey got home. She gently moved Joker's sleeping head off of her lap and rose from the couch, moving quietly to her fiance.
"Oh, Harvey, thank goodness. I didn't know what to do with him and..." She bit her lip, eying him nervously. "You're angry."
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Post by Harvey Dent/Two-Face on Oct 31, 2010 23:21:48 GMT
Harvey looked again at the almost frail figure lying on his couch, then back at Olivia. He kept his voice low in tone but there was no mistaking his annoyance.
"What is he doing here, Olivia? And why is he asleep on our couch?"
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Post by Olivia Hale on Oct 31, 2010 23:26:02 GMT
Olivia winced at the tone of his voice. "He just showed up earlier, coughing a lung up. He's really ill, Harvey. I haven't actually checked his temperature but his fever must be in the 100s. He's shaky, weak, quiet and coughing up blood. I couldn't turn him away!"
She placed her small hands on his chest, looking up at him imploringly . "He needs medical attention. I think he has pneumonia."
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Post by Harvey Dent/Two-Face on Oct 31, 2010 23:53:16 GMT
Harvey looked down at Ollie, determined not to let himself be won over. He normally loved Olivia's compassion, but he had his limits.
"And what about Two-Face? How do you think he's going to take it?"
"Then tell him to go to a hospital," he snapped. Harvey stalked over to the couch and pulled back the blanket. Joker was even thinner than Harvey remembered. His face was pale, eyes ringed with dark circles.
"Wake up, Joker. You can't stay here."
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Post by The Joker on Oct 31, 2010 23:59:08 GMT
Joker groaned and curled into a tighter ball. "Don' feel good, Harv." He muttered, looking up at Harvey with fever glazed eyes. He was suddenly racked with another violent coughing fit and forced himself to sit up. He was in absolute agony and was almost certain he'd broken a rib.
He doubled over, trembling from cold and exhaustion. "No hospital. No ID, no insurance. Don't wanna go back to Arkham yet."
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Post by Harvey Dent/Two-Face on Nov 1, 2010 8:22:43 GMT
Harvey watched as the Joker erupted into a coughing fit so violent his entire frame shook. His gaze took in the fever-bright eyes and the trembling shoulders, and his gaze softened slightly.
"What are we going to do with you, Joker?" he asked quietly, and sank down on the sofa next to him, moodily starting to roll his coin over his fingers.
Harvey glanced up at Olivia. "We'll get Eric Shuster in, that mob guy who stitches up my men when they need it."
He looked at Joker. "He operates cash only. He was stripped of his licence a few years back for selling chemicals onto our good friend Jonathan Crane, but he still practices in a limited capacity."
Harvey's eye passed over Two-Face's former... friend? Companion? Lover? once more. "What's happened to you, Joker?" he asked.
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Post by Olivia Hale on Nov 1, 2010 14:20:14 GMT
Olivia felt a twinge of guilt at the mention of Two-Face. Ever since Joker had dumped him, he'd been completely impossible to talk to about the clown. Hopefully they could get Joker taken care of before Face resurfaced.
Olivia walked into the kitchen as the men spoke and poured a glass of water for Joker. She sat down on the couch beside him and passed the glass to him. "Drink this, J. You must be dehydrated, and that's not going to help you at all."
She looked at Harvey over Joker's shaking form. "If you tell me where his number is, I'll give him a call and let you keep our patient company."
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Post by The Joker on Nov 1, 2010 14:33:06 GMT
Joker didn't look up when he spoke. "I have cash in my jacket. It's in the bathroom on the floor. Take whatever you need."
He was silent for a long moment at Harvey's question before finally looking up. He briefly contemplated responding, but changed his mind as he started coughing one more. Joker groaned and curled up on the couch once more, shivering violently.
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Post by Harvey Dent/Two-Face on Nov 1, 2010 18:36:34 GMT
Harvey sighed again, his voice this time a little more gentle. "Don't talk. You sound like you're drowning in your own phlegm and it's not very pleasant."
He reached out and pulled the blanket up around the shivering shoulders. Sadness overtook him as he remembered the days when they had been constant companions in Arkham - the days when Joker seemed at times almost a child, begging for bedtime stories and naming each of the spiders who set up home in his cell. Harvey shook his head. Those days were long gone.
"Let's get you to the spare room, Joker. You should be in bed. Can you walk?"
Harvey looked up at Olivia and passed her his phone from his pocket. "He's in the contacts list, under S."
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Post by The Joker on Nov 1, 2010 18:48:45 GMT
Joker held on to the blanket as he stood up, swaying slightly. He shuffled out of the living room and into the spare bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. He used the last bit of his strength and energy to burrow under the lush blankets before passing out.
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