Work Text:
Jessica “Joker” Campbell
Few things made Joker re-evaluate her life choices.
Discovering the plot twist that was Nora’s son forced Joker to her knees, to her ass on the cold Red Rocket roof to contemplate life.
Or lack of one, where certain people are involved.
Joker, as her name implied, wasn’t one to outwardly take things seriously. Always ready with a joke or sarcastic comment in her arsenal. However, that didn’t mean that nothing affected her deeply or emotionally. Nora, the old-worlder, had effected Joker enough for the Wastelander to take on her identity, to find her son in this hell. How many doors had Joker opened for the woman she never met in life? How many had she closed?
Did she regret it?
No, Joker mused, she didn’t. Even if she had more scars and blood on her hands than when she started, there was little to regret. Oh sure, Joker regrets things in her own life, before she became Nora in a sense, but that was fodder for a non-existent therapy session.
The Railroad, the Minutemen…they had Joker’s loyalty.
Nick Valentine, Piper, MacCreedy, Deacon, Hancock, Preston….they had Joker’s friendship.
These were additions to Joker’s life that she wouldn’t have taken so willingly before Nora. She cared for each one, offered aid and companionship where she could. She even found love in the end.
In the end.
No, this plot twist wasn’t the end. Joker still had a decision to make, a flag to wave, a button to press, a trigger to pull.
So, no, not the end. Just another damn day in the Wasteland.