Title: We All Suffer
Universe: Nolanverse
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Harvey Dent, Jim Gordon, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, the Joker
Word Count: 500
Warnings: Spoilers for TDK. Shame on you if you haven't seen it yet. ;)
Summary: How many ways can a single day go wrong? Interlude after the crashed party scene during TDK.
It had been a rough day.
Harvey stood at the window. His hands fidgeted; they had already disposed of his jacket and had long ago rolled his white sleeves up past his elbows. One lifted to linger thoughtfully before his mouth, before settling against his hip.
Gordon said the citizens would be in an uproar, come tomorrow morning. The police commissioner – poisoned. The one judge willing to set aside temptation in favor of justice – splattered across half a city block.
Rachel – she'd refused him.
He sighed and crossed his arms as his eyes drifted up to watch the nighttime sky.
Gordon brushed a hand through his hair. Lowering his arm, he caught Ramirez's eye. She stared at the brown and gray strands that stood on end and granted him a sympathetic smile. Gordon reciprocated.
The Joker had crashed Bruce Wayne's party. The attendants were shocked, scared, and utterly frustrated that the police had allowed him to escape. Again. Gordon didn't blame them. He was frustrated too.
Loeb was dead. The force was leaderless. Gordon could already feel the eyes shifting in his direction; whispers spoke of a possible replacement.
Gordon ducked his head and moved on to the next witness.
Alfred kept a close eye on his charge. The police had closed around him.
"Where were you during the break-in?"
'I left several minutes prior -"
"You left your own party?"
Alfred saw the young billionaire's jaw clench.
"Actually, the party was for -"
"Why did Batman let this Joker escape?"
He wondered if he should interrupt the interrogation.
"He didn't -"
"How would you know if you weren't here?"
Alfred noted the hand that pressed casually against Bruce's lower abdomen. He remembered the blunt knife, and the Joker's grin. Stepping forward, he forced a smile. "That will be all for tonight, gentlemen."
Bruce sat in his office, his eyes scanning the various monitors before him. The Joker had made a point to smile and laugh at each and every security camera he came across. Bruce frowned.
Gordon's expression had looked particularly pained tonight. He had heard snatches of conversations from the officers, and the news reports had filled him in on the rest. This had been just one of three attacks the Joker had executed simultaneously across the span of Gotham. And no one had stopped him.
One man or the entire mob? He can wait . . .
Bruce's frown deepened.
The Joker paced up and down the length of an empty warehouse. His manic smile had turned on its head and now tugged his scars in a sour, more painful direction.
What was the point of anything if everything didn't happen smoothly? What kind of message did that project? Police were fallible, people were fallible, but he . . . he wasn't.
A masked man approached the Joker. Three bullets to the head later, Joker was still in a foul mood. Harvey was out there, making mischief.
Joker frowned. That was his job.
He needed to teach Dent a lesson.
A/N: Reviews are appreciated.