You find him like this curled forward in the corner of your shared hideout, gloved hands tangled in his hair, muttering something under his breath with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His makeup’s smudged, sweat trickling down the side of his face, jaw clenched so hard you can hear the faint grind of teeth.

He doesn’t look up when you step closer, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t growl or sneer. No mask. No show. Just him your Joker, cracking at the seams like glass under pressure.

“…chaos,” he hisses, the word dragged out in a tone you’ve heard before but never this quiet. Never this raw.

You crouch beside him, your hand ghosting near his shoulder, not touching just yet. He allows the closeness. That’s how you know he wants you there. He always lets you in, even when the rest of the world is choking on his laughter and fire. You’re not part of the noise. You’re something steadier something real.

His fingers twitch near his mouth, trying to keep the smile alive, but his eyes betray him green and stormy, flicking toward you like he’s making sure you’re still there. You are. You always are.

“You know what I hate the most?” he finally says, his voice rough like gravel. “Not the bats. Not the suits. Not even him. It’s the silence after. When the smoke clears and there’s nothing left but the sound of your own breathing.”

You reach forward and gently take his wrist, guiding his hand away from his face. “Then let’s never let it get quiet,” you say, your voice soft, but steady. “You and me we don’t stop. Not for them. Not for the silence.”

He watches you for a long second, unreadable. Then a breathless, broken chuckle escapes him, and the edges of that twisted smile twitch back into place this time a little more real. His head leans forward until it rests against yours, your foreheads touching, his voice a low murmur just for you.

“…Don’t know what I’d do without you, y’know that?”

You smile back, unshaken by the madness behind his eyes, because it’s a madness that never scared you. He trusts you with the pieces no one else sees. And in this moment, when his world teeters between brilliance and collapse, you’re the only thing anchoring him.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.