What Happens In Arkham...Part 16
Title: What happens In Arkham...Part 16
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R
Summary: Bruce Wayne goes to Arkham in search of The Joker's Secrets and Identity and ends up with more then he bargined for.
Warnings: Slash, Violence, Swearing, Sex, Prescription drug use.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no profit is being made here. Batman and the Joker do not belong to me or my co-author.
A/N: This is a RP run story between me and my co-author knives99 . Knives plays Joker and Gordon while I play Bruce/Batman and Alfred.
P.S.: Yeah, the reason this is late is me. Heh, won't happen again.
Jack stirred to life with Bruce at his side with his arm slung protectively over him. His eyes just flashed open to a bright world as the morning sun was just rising. It was deadly silent. Only Jack's breathing and Bruce's breathing could be heard. Moving from under that protective warmth and the soft soiled expensive sheets, Jack rushed into the bathroom and with a sigh relieved himself. Staring at himself in the mirror as he scrubbed his hands with warm water, he cocked his head and examined the bruises and the lump on his head. Rummaging carelessly through the medicine cabinet he found a small box of bandages. He took one out and placed over the bump.
The entire episode played through his mind. The horrible maddening voices telling him everything he didn't want to hear. His other side. His darker more dominant side trying to weasel his way into controlling. It took only his lover's voice, which had rooted itself in his mind, stopped him from beginning the cycle again. But for how long? Jack left the bathroom and walked to the closet. He picked Bruceís most expensive dress shirt and buttoned it halfway up. Then he crawled on all fours over the possibly sleeping man and he gave a loving bite to his shoulder.
"Mmm?" He asked without having to say words.
Bruce was lying on his stomach when he started to drift up at the teething on his shoulder. He tried to reach out behind him and grab the man and pull him back down on the bed. He dragged the man back against him and buried his face in the crook of Jack's neck. "Go back to sleep..." He murmured groggily.
Jack growled and squirmed, pushing on Bruce, he tried to get up again. "I'm hungry." He said, shockingly.
Bruce snorted and held Jack close despite his grumblings. "You're never hungry, and if I let you go you'll just keep poking me again." He said, a little more wakeful as he nibbled on Jack's throat.
Then Jack's stomach actually growled and he flushed and made one of the cutest erotic expressions as his neck was nibbled. He wrapped his arms around Bruce and hugged him tight, hard, like he could disappear at any minute. "Mmmm....but...I was serious...."
Bruce stopped what he was doing to pull back in surprise at the sound of Jack's hunger making itself known. Raising a brow he smirked down at his lovers stomach. "I guess you were." He agreed. He gave the other man a pat on the ass and rolled out of bed. "Lets get you some food then."
Blushing and smirking deviantly at the same time, Jack looked off to the side. "Will Alfred get upset if I don't wear underwear and get jizz on the dining room seats?"
Bruce scoffed at the question as he pulled on a pair of sweat pants. "Yes."
Jack sighed and closed his eyes. "Messy messy." He muttered and then got up to go clean up in the bathroom. Using a rag he cleaned himself up and then found a pair of boxer shorts and pants to put on.
Bruce smirked and shook his head before pulling a t-shirt over his head. Maybe it was the heady aftermath of good sex or just the satisfaction of still having Jack here. But Bruce was the most relaxed and content he'd ever remembered feeling.
Grabbing Bruce by the arm he hugged the muscled limb and groped it as they walked down the hall and into the kitchen. "Mmm...I'd love to draw you..." He noticed there was the smell of freshly grilled bacon coming from the dining room. Leaving Bruce for the scent he found Alfred's breakfast for them already set and prepared. "That man.." Jack said with surprise. Then sitting down he picked a plate and began wolfing down food. He was starving all of a sudden. What was on his plate was gone the moment Bruce sat down to join.
Bruce chuckled as he heard Alfred cleaning up in the kitchen. "It's the reason I keep him around." He said loud enough for the butler to hear and a very English snort was heard in answer. Bruce took a seat beside Jack and eyed the already empty plate. "Slow down, Jack." He warned and wondered if he had to guard his own meal from the mans unusual hunger.
Jack held his fork in his mouth and stared lustfully at Bruce's plate. His eyes sparkled with want and hunger. "Mmm?"
Bruce pulled his plate away from the man. "You can wait for Alfred to make you more." He said calmly.
Jack still gave Bruce pleading eyes and watched for Alfred to come through the door again. "I'm really hungry. It feels like I could eat a horse."
He started to lick his plate clean slowly and watched Bruce defend and eat his own with actual enthusiasm. "Bruce..." He licked and then paused, muffled by the plate. "You should model for me."
Bruce slowed down his own eating, knowing he'd be miserable at this rate, but he knew at this point it was either eat or being missing half his breakfast by nimble fingers. He raised a brow at Jack as he sipped at his coffee cup. "For one of your drawings?"
"Yes." Jack smiled. "Your body is delicious and it needs to be on a canvas."
He smirked at the idea and looked up at Alfred who gave his ward a warning look as he refilled the hungry Jack's plate with eggs and sausage. Bruce relented with amusement. "Since I'm guessing this will be nude, we'll have to do it in the bedroom."
Jack began wolfing down food quickly. "Uh huh. You get to choose the pose." He said after swallowing and mouthful and choking on it a second. He took a break from eating to breath and drink the glass of milk beside him. "Or if you rather I could draw you in your best suit." Jack's eyes lit up with ideas and he was glowing. He took a bite of sausage and moaned around the fork. It made his eyes water and fake tears leaked down his face as he practically orgasmed at the delicious flavor of Alfred's excellent home cooking. He looked up thankful at the elder man. "You should help him pick the pose. I want it to be a pose that reflects Bruce's personality."
He shot that same smirk at Alfred who simply sighed and shook his head. "I'll gladly sit this one out if you don't mind, Jack. I sense this is something for just you and, Master Bruce." He took Bruce's plate away before he was finished for that one and the vigilante held fast to his coffee in case that was snatched away as well. "Why don't you choose since you're the artist?"
But then Jack completely tuned out the question. His eyes watering still as he spoke. "Your my family. I want to have memories of you." His eyes began to dilate. "I could draw you too, Alfred. Your like a grandfather to me." Jack said with serious honesty. Looking to both Bruce and Alfred he spoke firmly. "You both are precious to me. Because I never had a family before." His fork shook in his hand. Jack took a deep breath and calmed down. With a sad smile he looked around the room as if testing new eyes. "I could decorate this penthouse with memories..."
Bruce was ready to tease Alfred a bit more, see if he could get the butler to frown at his wards unusually playful side when it came to Jack lately. Then Jack broke down and Bruce turned to stare at the man. It felt difficult to breath, and it wasn't because he was touched. And some part of him was, and it made the ache even worse. Looking up at Alfred as Jack looked around, the butler gave him a hard look. Bruce swallowed. This was his doing. He made a family built on lies. Alfred spoke when Bruce couldn't and smiled at the younger man. "I'm sure you will, lad. Now finish your breakfast."
Jack smiled, pleased his feelings were reciprocated by Alfred. And that was enough to satisfy any voice in his mind. He ate a little slower and drank two full glasses of milk. When he finished he sighed and relaxed back in the chair. "Ahhhh~!" He smiled cheekily and patted his lean stomach. Then the second he was done, Jack jumped up on the table, ran across it without stepping on any plates, and off again. Heading into the living room he found his sketch pad and ran back into the kitchen with Bruce. Sitting down he looked around the room and processed the image he wanted to put on the paper.
Alfred gave him a very pointed look and Bruce nodded. He had to fix this, but how? Turning, he watched Jack run around and collect his things and start drawing. Gotham didn't see this? The young man who had a child like disposition when he was happy, who could love unconditionally one moment and shy away at any touch the next like he expected a beating. They didn't see the vulnerable core of Jack. And Bruce realized there was a reason. This version of Jack had taken time and trials to pull out. The Joker, was what protected Jack. Bruce inhaled slowly and put on a smile that had been so easy to come by minutes ago. "What are you drawing now?"
It started out as the beginning of a person. Then more detail was added and erased and redone over the next couple of seconds. It was a woman. She was beautiful in features, long hair loosely tied in a knot and hanging on her shoulder. Her eyes looked so loving an friendly. She looked young and innocent. The way she was looking into your eyes off the page was warming to the soul. Jack stared into the page as she got more and more familiar. It brought up tears of happiness. "...Jeannie..." He whispered hoarsely. He began to detail some of her body, she was obviously pregnant. Thus explaining the strange feelings her image stirred. Jack's tears dripped on the page. He looked up from the picture and handed it over to Bruce. Tears dripped again and then he took a deep breath. "Before you..." She was his anchor before something happened. Something terrible and mysterious. Jack had flames in his eyes as they glazed over.
Bruce slid to the floor to look at the drawing as it came to life on Jack's drawing pad. It had the same intensity of the drawings Jack brought straight from memory, the same muscle memory that brought things into such sharp focus and realism. But it wasn't dark and foreboding like some of those drawings, no creeping sense of something wrong. The picture was plain beautiful and he somehow knew it wasn't Jack's mother. The name confirmed and Bruce wanted to reach out and touch it but worried about Jack's reaction and the possibility of smudging the drawing. He saw the swollen belly and felt something twist in his gut. He took the picture and looked it over, took in every detail Jack had paid such attention too. Was Jack himself, a whole man before with this woman? He steadied himself for the next question before he turned to look into Jack's eyes. "What happened?"
The question made Jack's eyes dilate and a sloppy smile crossed his face. "Jeannie died mysteriously in a home accident. Or at least that was what her obituary said. My dealing with friends with whom I thought I could trust, and a brutal code of love and honor. A brotherhood took my Jeannie and my child lives." Then Jack broke down and sobbed. "I failed to do my job. I failed to protect and provide for my family. How do you allow me to live?"
Bruce's eyes widened as he reached for the younger man. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Jack," he gripped the mans upper arms as he made Jack look at him. "What are you talking about?"
Jack's entire body shook in Bruce's grip, his mind overworked. "It was going to be a girl." He whispered to Bruce. He smiled and he raised his hands to his face to touch his scars. He itched at them.
"Jack," he shook the man a little. "What are you talking about? What happened to Jeannie and the baby?" He asked. Alfred came over with a glass of scotch and handed it to Bruce. "This might work better." He advised and Bruce took it with a sigh and tried to bring the glass to Jack's lips. "Here, calm down, Jack." He tried to sooth instead of instigate.
Smelling the alcohol jolted his senses, and he grabbed the cup and downed it. He bit his tongue against the bitter flavor and the slight burn of it doing down. Jack rocked and looked from Bruce to Alfred. Anxious and slowly trying to relax. Like a child gone to a doctor for physical, who's only worry was a shot. "They died."
Bruce wondered if this was when Jack broke, his wife and unborn child. Sighing, he pulled Jack into his arms and held on tight.
Jack stared over Bruce's shoulder and bowed his head, resting it. "I don't know how it happened." He could remember like it was yesterday. Running out to the burning remains of his house inside the chalk body marks were his wife lay when she died. The bloody burnt up floor prints. He'd pictured her death slow and painful.
Bruce stroked the back of Jack's neck to calm him down. But now he had two names. Jack and Jeannie, a death, a violent death by the sounds of it. "Jack, maybe you should lie down for a while. It will calm you down a bit." He coaxed.
Jack wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and stared at Alfred's curious expression sadly. "Is that it? Go to sleep? I need to do something!" He nearly screamed. "He could be out there...waiting or trying to find his way into this place." His voice went grim. "I know you block me from seeing the signal in the sky at night."
Bruce curled his fingers tight around Jack's upper arms and yanked the man back from him, glaring.
Staring back he held his breath and blushed at the glare. Bruce always looked cute when he was angry, it was a dangerous angry. He smiled.
Bruce growled and hoisted Jack over his shoulder and stood in one fluid motion. "I think it's time we remind you just who it is you belong to." He said dangerously low as he marched them both back to the bedroom.
Jack grunted as he ended up on a strong shoulder. He squirmed and tried to get comfortable as he was carried off. He didn't see a need to struggle. "Bruce is jealous. Bruce is jealous." He sung.
Bruce's hand came down on Jack's backside with a loud slap as he carried the man off. Alfred very calmly cleaned up after breakfast, happily pretending he hadn't paid witness.
"Ah!" Jack cried out and arched his back awkwardly on Bruce's shoulder. "Hey! Don't get mad at me for telling the truth." He wriggled a little and felt his way along Bruce's back. Reaching his hand into the back of Bruce's pants, cleverly, and pulled up on his boxers until they were riding home.
"Jack!" The vigilante known as Batman yelped as the Joker gave him a wedgie. Five quick walks and he had Jack dumped on the still unmade bed and pinned him down.
The infamous and vicious murderer struggled and became slowly frustrated and agitated like a child as he was held firmly down with a force the was normally used by one other man. Only one other person subdued him this way. He laughed softly and whispered testingly, toeing the boundary that he'd found. His voice went more deadly but in a still playful way. "Batman...Do you like this too?" He bit back the response he was already expecting. Those green eyes went aflame and glazed at the man above him.
Bruce was up and away like a shot.
Sitting up he blinked and stared at how Bruce jumped off him. "You wanna know what I know?" He grinned at the man who'd just been successfully keeping him down. "Your to obviously suspicious. From a far, if I don't pay attention, you almost look normal." He licked at his scars thoughtfully a moment and then moved into sitting up on his knees. Crossing his arms he stood on the bed and walked slowly to the edge. He hummed a deadly tune that could haunt Bruce if he let it. Then stopping he looked intensely at the suspected vigilante. Almost like he was looking through him. "But up close an personal your more like him then any other person I know." The possibly deadly man blinked and the scarred sides of his mouth twitched. "...Now that I think about it. Who else would become so obsessed with me so quickly?"
It was a mistake, the thought becoming fact in his mind the moment Jack's eyes fastened onto his actions. He tried not to tense, to walk in a way that would make it possible for him to go on the defensive if Jack pounced. Bruce knew he was safe as long as Jack's suspicions weren't proven. So instead of caution, the playboy sighed and shook his head. "You want me to be him so badly." There was a hint of disappointment in his voice as he tried to catch Jack's gaze. "This isn't the first time you've accused me of being him. And I'm getting tired of this game, Jack. How do I prove it to you once and for all that I'm not Batman?"
He stared at him and narrowed his eyes as Bruce threw him a curveball. "W..What?" He shook his head and raised his voice loud enough that Alfred could hear it and the way he sounded was out for blood. "Liar! LIAR! I know it! I...." He pointed at Bruce like his eyes were having trouble functioning, and he had to assure he was seeing Bruce.
And Bruce did something that he'd never done before, something he knew would fix it in Jack's mind. He took a fearful step away from the man.
Fear. He could see it in Bruce's eyes. Something that he'd never seen in the deadly black eyes of his soul mate. He didn't like the idea of it existing in Batman's eyes, and he didn't like it now existing in Bruce's. It shattered his shielding, the Joker, his outer armor. His eyes watered up and he broke down into crying. Jack's gentle voice sounded painfully hurt. He couched down to his knees on the edge and settled comfortably on it. Rubbing at his eyes he sobbed loud enough for Alfred to hear, again.
The butler was at the door, knocking smartly and Bruce turned, the false emotion dropping from his eyes. "Master Bruce, Jack? Is everything all right?" Bruce let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. A fear fading that had nothing to do with why Jack was crying, or maybe it was. "We're fine Alfred..." He turned to look at Jack. "Just an outburst."
"Outburst?" Jack whispered. "It's an outburst?" Jack leapt from the edge he'd been perched on. And he shoved Alfred roughly against the door. "HE ISN'T A CHILD. HE DOESN'T NEED YOU. HE'S MY LOVER." He screamed at the old man in Jack's hurt voice. Then he ran away again before he could be stopped. He moved fast. Trying to stay one step ahead of Bruce and Alfred before they could subdue the monster. He ran into the living room where his drawings scattered under his feet. Doodles of a child's abused mind, flying through the air, he knocked over the utensil cup and he busted open a red pen. Red ink stained his bare feet and he ran into a closet after out running and ducking and dodging his captor's expertly. The red ink footprints led straight to him.
Alfred was surprised at the outburst. Jack had never outwardly attacked the elder man before and it was enough to make Alfred wonder if he might die over what might have been a silly argument that escalated. "Jack, stop it!" Bruce snapped but the wild man was already darting away and his 'lover' was in hot pursuit. He kept ahead of Jack knowing the penthouse better, ducking around furniture he knew would be cumbersome or just jumping over it, darting through archways and around artwork. But Jack had a head start and spry legs, a fact Bruce knew from rooftop and alleyway experience. He skidded to a stop when Jack's red footprints let to one of the closets. Bruce's breathing evened out and he slowly crouched down in front of it. He waited a moment before speaking, his voice quieter, hitting a soothing, honey pitch. "Jack?"
Loud painful bawling and muffled booming could be heard inside the tiny space filled with coats and shoe boxes.
Bruce sighed. He placed his hand on the doorknob, knowing he could force it open whether Jack wanted him to or not. "Jack, why?" He asked after a moment. "Why can't I just be me? Why do I have to be him?"
A shivering ball that was Jack, rocked on his heels and toes, his hands over his ears. He was screaming and crying at the same time. The hems of fancy coats brushed in Jack's face with his curls. It was safe in here, just like when he was a child. It was safe until...
Bruce inhaled slowly, he couldn't just stand here anymore. The doorknob jiggled and then the door opened, Bruce tensing for whatever may lay behind that door. "Jack?"
Raising his head, a blinding light made Jack's dilated eyes draw back into the sockets, just revealing the glowing jade green of his eyes. Bruce was no longer Bruce. He was a tall shadowy figure that was obviously much more powerful then anything Jack could try to be at this moment. He backed against the wall of the closet and pushed himself into the right corner of the floor. Staring up at Bruce he pulled his knees up against his chest and he waited for impending doom.
Bruce made to reach in for the man and yank him out. But he pulled up short when he saw the way Jack was cowering, looking at him with eyes full of fear. The closet. The picture, the drawing of a child's world concealed completely in a closet suddenly came to mind in full detail. "Jack, it's me..." He said carefully,
Jack's breathing was heavy, the collar of the borrowed dress shirt covered his mouth. It grew damp with heat. He stared at Bruce with scared innocent watery eyes.
Bruce hesitated. Caught between indecision and concern, he finally reached out his hand and tried to cup Jack's cheek.
As Bruce reached inside Jack closed his eyes and turned his head away. Then when Bruce's hand touched him he turned his face to look at him. He stared at Bruce and lifted a securing hand to grab Bruce's wrist.
He kept his hand from tensing, pliable and soft in Jack's grip. His thumb stroked lovingly against the scars marring his cheek. "Jack, it's me. It's okay." He tried to reassure.
Jack stared at him and slowly the fear faded and he smiled. Blinking tears. It looked like he understood. Cautiously, he poked his head out. His movements were weak and strained. He collapsed on Bruce and hugged close to his lover. Humming contently he nuzzled Bruce.
It was a relief to see the fear fade, but Bruce was in a confused daze as Jack practically tackled him to the ground and nuzzled him. He didn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around the other man to give him some incredibly necessary comfort. "Okay, no more hiding in closets. All right?"
Jack stared at him. His eyes had adjusted to the light and the friendly darkness was not so powerful and intimidating anymore. He could see the human face and hand that was in place of the warmth he'd found. The innocence faded into a deadly grin and with a sickening pop, Jack dislocated Bruce's wrist.
Everything happened too quick. The change in expression, the grip on his wrist and suddenly Bruce gave a pained cry as his hand went limp and the pain rocketed up his arm. In his armor this wouldn't have happened, had he been prepared he could have prevented it. But he wasn't playing that role Jack so desperately wanted him to, so Bruce Wayne was laying on the ground underneath his lover with a painful reminder of who he wasn't.
Jack stood up with Bruce laying under him between his feet. Looking dangerous as he tried to establish dominance over the human whoíd posed as his wonderful darkness. He was grinning and watching the man writhe under him. A soft breathy child-like laugh left him. "Does it hurt?" His brain wasnít registering that it was Bruce he was hurting.
He had to lay there and take it, for Jack's sanity and his own. He glared up at the man and bite down on his tongue to keep himself from giving anymore more then a muffled grunt as he sat up holding his wrist.
Jack put his foot on Bruce's chest and forced him into laying back down. "Is this a good enough outburst for you?" He whispered dangerously. Looking ready to tear Bruce apart he stared down at the man and grinned viciously, baring his yellow teeth.
It was enough that Bruce could use it. Pushing up with all his strength, he sat up somewhat and rammed his elbow into the back of Jack's supporting kneecap.
Jack cried out in pain which switched into mad giggles and collapsed to the floor. He laughed on reflex and pulled his leg close to keep Bruce from hurting him again.
Bruce stood up, giving himself the height advantage. "Do you want to go back this badly?" He demanded.
Green eyes looked up at Bruce and blinked more tears. "I have to....I have to see him..."
"Why?!" Bruce almost roared, not caring about the pain anymore. "Why aren't I enough?"
"You don't understand!" He roared back. "He needs me!"
"He doesn't need you out there, he needs you here!" He shouted back and clamped his teeth shut behind his lips a second later. "You know what," he continued on without missing a beat. "He doesn't need you, but I do."
Jack looked genuinely hurt and he managed to get on his hands and knees. He crawled over to Bruce and nervously reached out to touch him. "Bruce.." He stared at the man with true sadness in his eyes. "I was born...without joy...or love...and the one person...who loved me the most..." Jack stopped his attempt to reach out to Bruce and he sat up on his knees. He sobbed. "I never got to be a daddy. I was a terrible husband, and I was a bad son." He bawled. "Batman stands for the humanity that I have lost. He is the light in my darkness as I am the darkness to his light." Jack sniffled. "I could imagine what he must have endured to make him what he is..."
Bruce backed away from him, a look of utter confusion and disbelief on his face. "And you think you're alike? You think he lived the same life, like he could even fathom what you've been through?" He shook his head. "No one can sympathize, Jack. Especially not Batman. Because no matter what made him, it's not even half of what made you."
Jack rubbed at his eyes and cried into his hands. "...I hurt you again..." The horrible guilt was eating at his human side and it burned him painfully. The voices were screaming in his head, screaming laughter. The Joker was amused with the chaos heíd brought between Bruce and Jack.
Bruce sighed, holding his wrist. "Yes, you did." He said honestly and far too tired for the early afternoon. "But Alfred can fix it."
Jack looked up at Bruce with glowing hopeful eyes. "And?" He wiped his face clean on the sleeves and cuffs of the dress shirt.
"And if you ever leave again looking for that vigilante I'm sending you back to Arkham." He said seriously. "For your own good."
Those words had an effect on Jack his eyes dilated some and he physically relaxed in Bruce's sight. He blinked and waited for more.
"Just..." Bruce could feel the pain in his wrist reminding him it needed to be fixed soon. "Go watch tv or something. Keep yourself occupied while I get this taken care of."
Blinking again he stared at Bruce and stood up. Then turning around he walked to the couch and sat down. He never looked so worried and paranoid before. His legs were pulled up to his chest and he stared anxiously back and forth from the TV to were Bruce had retreated to be tended to.
Alfred was waiting for Bruce, taking the younger mans wrist in hand. "Today was a bad day." The elder man said matter of factly. "Tomorrow will be better." Bruce said like a man who knew the pattern and bore with it. Alfred didn't give Bruce any warning for saying that and his cry was heard through the entire penthouse as Alfred popped his wrist back into place.
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R
Summary: Bruce Wayne goes to Arkham in search of The Joker's Secrets and Identity and ends up with more then he bargined for.
Warnings: Slash, Violence, Swearing, Sex, Prescription drug use.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no profit is being made here. Batman and the Joker do not belong to me or my co-author.
A/N: This is a RP run story between me and my co-author knives99 . Knives plays Joker and Gordon while I play Bruce/Batman and Alfred.
P.S.: Yeah, the reason this is late is me. Heh, won't happen again.
Jack stirred to life with Bruce at his side with his arm slung protectively over him. His eyes just flashed open to a bright world as the morning sun was just rising. It was deadly silent. Only Jack's breathing and Bruce's breathing could be heard. Moving from under that protective warmth and the soft soiled expensive sheets, Jack rushed into the bathroom and with a sigh relieved himself. Staring at himself in the mirror as he scrubbed his hands with warm water, he cocked his head and examined the bruises and the lump on his head. Rummaging carelessly through the medicine cabinet he found a small box of bandages. He took one out and placed over the bump.
The entire episode played through his mind. The horrible maddening voices telling him everything he didn't want to hear. His other side. His darker more dominant side trying to weasel his way into controlling. It took only his lover's voice, which had rooted itself in his mind, stopped him from beginning the cycle again. But for how long? Jack left the bathroom and walked to the closet. He picked Bruceís most expensive dress shirt and buttoned it halfway up. Then he crawled on all fours over the possibly sleeping man and he gave a loving bite to his shoulder.
"Mmm?" He asked without having to say words.
Bruce was lying on his stomach when he started to drift up at the teething on his shoulder. He tried to reach out behind him and grab the man and pull him back down on the bed. He dragged the man back against him and buried his face in the crook of Jack's neck. "Go back to sleep..." He murmured groggily.
Jack growled and squirmed, pushing on Bruce, he tried to get up again. "I'm hungry." He said, shockingly.
Bruce snorted and held Jack close despite his grumblings. "You're never hungry, and if I let you go you'll just keep poking me again." He said, a little more wakeful as he nibbled on Jack's throat.
Then Jack's stomach actually growled and he flushed and made one of the cutest erotic expressions as his neck was nibbled. He wrapped his arms around Bruce and hugged him tight, hard, like he could disappear at any minute. "Mmmm....but...I was serious...."
Bruce stopped what he was doing to pull back in surprise at the sound of Jack's hunger making itself known. Raising a brow he smirked down at his lovers stomach. "I guess you were." He agreed. He gave the other man a pat on the ass and rolled out of bed. "Lets get you some food then."
Blushing and smirking deviantly at the same time, Jack looked off to the side. "Will Alfred get upset if I don't wear underwear and get jizz on the dining room seats?"
Bruce scoffed at the question as he pulled on a pair of sweat pants. "Yes."
Jack sighed and closed his eyes. "Messy messy." He muttered and then got up to go clean up in the bathroom. Using a rag he cleaned himself up and then found a pair of boxer shorts and pants to put on.
Bruce smirked and shook his head before pulling a t-shirt over his head. Maybe it was the heady aftermath of good sex or just the satisfaction of still having Jack here. But Bruce was the most relaxed and content he'd ever remembered feeling.
Grabbing Bruce by the arm he hugged the muscled limb and groped it as they walked down the hall and into the kitchen. "Mmm...I'd love to draw you..." He noticed there was the smell of freshly grilled bacon coming from the dining room. Leaving Bruce for the scent he found Alfred's breakfast for them already set and prepared. "That man.." Jack said with surprise. Then sitting down he picked a plate and began wolfing down food. He was starving all of a sudden. What was on his plate was gone the moment Bruce sat down to join.
Bruce chuckled as he heard Alfred cleaning up in the kitchen. "It's the reason I keep him around." He said loud enough for the butler to hear and a very English snort was heard in answer. Bruce took a seat beside Jack and eyed the already empty plate. "Slow down, Jack." He warned and wondered if he had to guard his own meal from the mans unusual hunger.
Jack held his fork in his mouth and stared lustfully at Bruce's plate. His eyes sparkled with want and hunger. "Mmm?"
Bruce pulled his plate away from the man. "You can wait for Alfred to make you more." He said calmly.
Jack still gave Bruce pleading eyes and watched for Alfred to come through the door again. "I'm really hungry. It feels like I could eat a horse."
He started to lick his plate clean slowly and watched Bruce defend and eat his own with actual enthusiasm. "Bruce..." He licked and then paused, muffled by the plate. "You should model for me."
Bruce slowed down his own eating, knowing he'd be miserable at this rate, but he knew at this point it was either eat or being missing half his breakfast by nimble fingers. He raised a brow at Jack as he sipped at his coffee cup. "For one of your drawings?"
"Yes." Jack smiled. "Your body is delicious and it needs to be on a canvas."
He smirked at the idea and looked up at Alfred who gave his ward a warning look as he refilled the hungry Jack's plate with eggs and sausage. Bruce relented with amusement. "Since I'm guessing this will be nude, we'll have to do it in the bedroom."
Jack began wolfing down food quickly. "Uh huh. You get to choose the pose." He said after swallowing and mouthful and choking on it a second. He took a break from eating to breath and drink the glass of milk beside him. "Or if you rather I could draw you in your best suit." Jack's eyes lit up with ideas and he was glowing. He took a bite of sausage and moaned around the fork. It made his eyes water and fake tears leaked down his face as he practically orgasmed at the delicious flavor of Alfred's excellent home cooking. He looked up thankful at the elder man. "You should help him pick the pose. I want it to be a pose that reflects Bruce's personality."
He shot that same smirk at Alfred who simply sighed and shook his head. "I'll gladly sit this one out if you don't mind, Jack. I sense this is something for just you and, Master Bruce." He took Bruce's plate away before he was finished for that one and the vigilante held fast to his coffee in case that was snatched away as well. "Why don't you choose since you're the artist?"
But then Jack completely tuned out the question. His eyes watering still as he spoke. "Your my family. I want to have memories of you." His eyes began to dilate. "I could draw you too, Alfred. Your like a grandfather to me." Jack said with serious honesty. Looking to both Bruce and Alfred he spoke firmly. "You both are precious to me. Because I never had a family before." His fork shook in his hand. Jack took a deep breath and calmed down. With a sad smile he looked around the room as if testing new eyes. "I could decorate this penthouse with memories..."
Bruce was ready to tease Alfred a bit more, see if he could get the butler to frown at his wards unusually playful side when it came to Jack lately. Then Jack broke down and Bruce turned to stare at the man. It felt difficult to breath, and it wasn't because he was touched. And some part of him was, and it made the ache even worse. Looking up at Alfred as Jack looked around, the butler gave him a hard look. Bruce swallowed. This was his doing. He made a family built on lies. Alfred spoke when Bruce couldn't and smiled at the younger man. "I'm sure you will, lad. Now finish your breakfast."
Jack smiled, pleased his feelings were reciprocated by Alfred. And that was enough to satisfy any voice in his mind. He ate a little slower and drank two full glasses of milk. When he finished he sighed and relaxed back in the chair. "Ahhhh~!" He smiled cheekily and patted his lean stomach. Then the second he was done, Jack jumped up on the table, ran across it without stepping on any plates, and off again. Heading into the living room he found his sketch pad and ran back into the kitchen with Bruce. Sitting down he looked around the room and processed the image he wanted to put on the paper.
Alfred gave him a very pointed look and Bruce nodded. He had to fix this, but how? Turning, he watched Jack run around and collect his things and start drawing. Gotham didn't see this? The young man who had a child like disposition when he was happy, who could love unconditionally one moment and shy away at any touch the next like he expected a beating. They didn't see the vulnerable core of Jack. And Bruce realized there was a reason. This version of Jack had taken time and trials to pull out. The Joker, was what protected Jack. Bruce inhaled slowly and put on a smile that had been so easy to come by minutes ago. "What are you drawing now?"
It started out as the beginning of a person. Then more detail was added and erased and redone over the next couple of seconds. It was a woman. She was beautiful in features, long hair loosely tied in a knot and hanging on her shoulder. Her eyes looked so loving an friendly. She looked young and innocent. The way she was looking into your eyes off the page was warming to the soul. Jack stared into the page as she got more and more familiar. It brought up tears of happiness. "...Jeannie..." He whispered hoarsely. He began to detail some of her body, she was obviously pregnant. Thus explaining the strange feelings her image stirred. Jack's tears dripped on the page. He looked up from the picture and handed it over to Bruce. Tears dripped again and then he took a deep breath. "Before you..." She was his anchor before something happened. Something terrible and mysterious. Jack had flames in his eyes as they glazed over.
Bruce slid to the floor to look at the drawing as it came to life on Jack's drawing pad. It had the same intensity of the drawings Jack brought straight from memory, the same muscle memory that brought things into such sharp focus and realism. But it wasn't dark and foreboding like some of those drawings, no creeping sense of something wrong. The picture was plain beautiful and he somehow knew it wasn't Jack's mother. The name confirmed and Bruce wanted to reach out and touch it but worried about Jack's reaction and the possibility of smudging the drawing. He saw the swollen belly and felt something twist in his gut. He took the picture and looked it over, took in every detail Jack had paid such attention too. Was Jack himself, a whole man before with this woman? He steadied himself for the next question before he turned to look into Jack's eyes. "What happened?"
The question made Jack's eyes dilate and a sloppy smile crossed his face. "Jeannie died mysteriously in a home accident. Or at least that was what her obituary said. My dealing with friends with whom I thought I could trust, and a brutal code of love and honor. A brotherhood took my Jeannie and my child lives." Then Jack broke down and sobbed. "I failed to do my job. I failed to protect and provide for my family. How do you allow me to live?"
Bruce's eyes widened as he reached for the younger man. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Jack," he gripped the mans upper arms as he made Jack look at him. "What are you talking about?"
Jack's entire body shook in Bruce's grip, his mind overworked. "It was going to be a girl." He whispered to Bruce. He smiled and he raised his hands to his face to touch his scars. He itched at them.
"Jack," he shook the man a little. "What are you talking about? What happened to Jeannie and the baby?" He asked. Alfred came over with a glass of scotch and handed it to Bruce. "This might work better." He advised and Bruce took it with a sigh and tried to bring the glass to Jack's lips. "Here, calm down, Jack." He tried to sooth instead of instigate.
Smelling the alcohol jolted his senses, and he grabbed the cup and downed it. He bit his tongue against the bitter flavor and the slight burn of it doing down. Jack rocked and looked from Bruce to Alfred. Anxious and slowly trying to relax. Like a child gone to a doctor for physical, who's only worry was a shot. "They died."
Bruce wondered if this was when Jack broke, his wife and unborn child. Sighing, he pulled Jack into his arms and held on tight.
Jack stared over Bruce's shoulder and bowed his head, resting it. "I don't know how it happened." He could remember like it was yesterday. Running out to the burning remains of his house inside the chalk body marks were his wife lay when she died. The bloody burnt up floor prints. He'd pictured her death slow and painful.
Bruce stroked the back of Jack's neck to calm him down. But now he had two names. Jack and Jeannie, a death, a violent death by the sounds of it. "Jack, maybe you should lie down for a while. It will calm you down a bit." He coaxed.
Jack wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and stared at Alfred's curious expression sadly. "Is that it? Go to sleep? I need to do something!" He nearly screamed. "He could be out there...waiting or trying to find his way into this place." His voice went grim. "I know you block me from seeing the signal in the sky at night."
Bruce curled his fingers tight around Jack's upper arms and yanked the man back from him, glaring.
Staring back he held his breath and blushed at the glare. Bruce always looked cute when he was angry, it was a dangerous angry. He smiled.
Bruce growled and hoisted Jack over his shoulder and stood in one fluid motion. "I think it's time we remind you just who it is you belong to." He said dangerously low as he marched them both back to the bedroom.
Jack grunted as he ended up on a strong shoulder. He squirmed and tried to get comfortable as he was carried off. He didn't see a need to struggle. "Bruce is jealous. Bruce is jealous." He sung.
Bruce's hand came down on Jack's backside with a loud slap as he carried the man off. Alfred very calmly cleaned up after breakfast, happily pretending he hadn't paid witness.
"Ah!" Jack cried out and arched his back awkwardly on Bruce's shoulder. "Hey! Don't get mad at me for telling the truth." He wriggled a little and felt his way along Bruce's back. Reaching his hand into the back of Bruce's pants, cleverly, and pulled up on his boxers until they were riding home.
"Jack!" The vigilante known as Batman yelped as the Joker gave him a wedgie. Five quick walks and he had Jack dumped on the still unmade bed and pinned him down.
The infamous and vicious murderer struggled and became slowly frustrated and agitated like a child as he was held firmly down with a force the was normally used by one other man. Only one other person subdued him this way. He laughed softly and whispered testingly, toeing the boundary that he'd found. His voice went more deadly but in a still playful way. "Batman...Do you like this too?" He bit back the response he was already expecting. Those green eyes went aflame and glazed at the man above him.
Bruce was up and away like a shot.
Sitting up he blinked and stared at how Bruce jumped off him. "You wanna know what I know?" He grinned at the man who'd just been successfully keeping him down. "Your to obviously suspicious. From a far, if I don't pay attention, you almost look normal." He licked at his scars thoughtfully a moment and then moved into sitting up on his knees. Crossing his arms he stood on the bed and walked slowly to the edge. He hummed a deadly tune that could haunt Bruce if he let it. Then stopping he looked intensely at the suspected vigilante. Almost like he was looking through him. "But up close an personal your more like him then any other person I know." The possibly deadly man blinked and the scarred sides of his mouth twitched. "...Now that I think about it. Who else would become so obsessed with me so quickly?"
It was a mistake, the thought becoming fact in his mind the moment Jack's eyes fastened onto his actions. He tried not to tense, to walk in a way that would make it possible for him to go on the defensive if Jack pounced. Bruce knew he was safe as long as Jack's suspicions weren't proven. So instead of caution, the playboy sighed and shook his head. "You want me to be him so badly." There was a hint of disappointment in his voice as he tried to catch Jack's gaze. "This isn't the first time you've accused me of being him. And I'm getting tired of this game, Jack. How do I prove it to you once and for all that I'm not Batman?"
He stared at him and narrowed his eyes as Bruce threw him a curveball. "W..What?" He shook his head and raised his voice loud enough that Alfred could hear it and the way he sounded was out for blood. "Liar! LIAR! I know it! I...." He pointed at Bruce like his eyes were having trouble functioning, and he had to assure he was seeing Bruce.
And Bruce did something that he'd never done before, something he knew would fix it in Jack's mind. He took a fearful step away from the man.
Fear. He could see it in Bruce's eyes. Something that he'd never seen in the deadly black eyes of his soul mate. He didn't like the idea of it existing in Batman's eyes, and he didn't like it now existing in Bruce's. It shattered his shielding, the Joker, his outer armor. His eyes watered up and he broke down into crying. Jack's gentle voice sounded painfully hurt. He couched down to his knees on the edge and settled comfortably on it. Rubbing at his eyes he sobbed loud enough for Alfred to hear, again.
The butler was at the door, knocking smartly and Bruce turned, the false emotion dropping from his eyes. "Master Bruce, Jack? Is everything all right?" Bruce let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. A fear fading that had nothing to do with why Jack was crying, or maybe it was. "We're fine Alfred..." He turned to look at Jack. "Just an outburst."
"Outburst?" Jack whispered. "It's an outburst?" Jack leapt from the edge he'd been perched on. And he shoved Alfred roughly against the door. "HE ISN'T A CHILD. HE DOESN'T NEED YOU. HE'S MY LOVER." He screamed at the old man in Jack's hurt voice. Then he ran away again before he could be stopped. He moved fast. Trying to stay one step ahead of Bruce and Alfred before they could subdue the monster. He ran into the living room where his drawings scattered under his feet. Doodles of a child's abused mind, flying through the air, he knocked over the utensil cup and he busted open a red pen. Red ink stained his bare feet and he ran into a closet after out running and ducking and dodging his captor's expertly. The red ink footprints led straight to him.
Alfred was surprised at the outburst. Jack had never outwardly attacked the elder man before and it was enough to make Alfred wonder if he might die over what might have been a silly argument that escalated. "Jack, stop it!" Bruce snapped but the wild man was already darting away and his 'lover' was in hot pursuit. He kept ahead of Jack knowing the penthouse better, ducking around furniture he knew would be cumbersome or just jumping over it, darting through archways and around artwork. But Jack had a head start and spry legs, a fact Bruce knew from rooftop and alleyway experience. He skidded to a stop when Jack's red footprints let to one of the closets. Bruce's breathing evened out and he slowly crouched down in front of it. He waited a moment before speaking, his voice quieter, hitting a soothing, honey pitch. "Jack?"
Loud painful bawling and muffled booming could be heard inside the tiny space filled with coats and shoe boxes.
Bruce sighed. He placed his hand on the doorknob, knowing he could force it open whether Jack wanted him to or not. "Jack, why?" He asked after a moment. "Why can't I just be me? Why do I have to be him?"
A shivering ball that was Jack, rocked on his heels and toes, his hands over his ears. He was screaming and crying at the same time. The hems of fancy coats brushed in Jack's face with his curls. It was safe in here, just like when he was a child. It was safe until...
Bruce inhaled slowly, he couldn't just stand here anymore. The doorknob jiggled and then the door opened, Bruce tensing for whatever may lay behind that door. "Jack?"
Raising his head, a blinding light made Jack's dilated eyes draw back into the sockets, just revealing the glowing jade green of his eyes. Bruce was no longer Bruce. He was a tall shadowy figure that was obviously much more powerful then anything Jack could try to be at this moment. He backed against the wall of the closet and pushed himself into the right corner of the floor. Staring up at Bruce he pulled his knees up against his chest and he waited for impending doom.
Bruce made to reach in for the man and yank him out. But he pulled up short when he saw the way Jack was cowering, looking at him with eyes full of fear. The closet. The picture, the drawing of a child's world concealed completely in a closet suddenly came to mind in full detail. "Jack, it's me..." He said carefully,
Jack's breathing was heavy, the collar of the borrowed dress shirt covered his mouth. It grew damp with heat. He stared at Bruce with scared innocent watery eyes.
Bruce hesitated. Caught between indecision and concern, he finally reached out his hand and tried to cup Jack's cheek.
As Bruce reached inside Jack closed his eyes and turned his head away. Then when Bruce's hand touched him he turned his face to look at him. He stared at Bruce and lifted a securing hand to grab Bruce's wrist.
He kept his hand from tensing, pliable and soft in Jack's grip. His thumb stroked lovingly against the scars marring his cheek. "Jack, it's me. It's okay." He tried to reassure.
Jack stared at him and slowly the fear faded and he smiled. Blinking tears. It looked like he understood. Cautiously, he poked his head out. His movements were weak and strained. He collapsed on Bruce and hugged close to his lover. Humming contently he nuzzled Bruce.
It was a relief to see the fear fade, but Bruce was in a confused daze as Jack practically tackled him to the ground and nuzzled him. He didn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around the other man to give him some incredibly necessary comfort. "Okay, no more hiding in closets. All right?"
Jack stared at him. His eyes had adjusted to the light and the friendly darkness was not so powerful and intimidating anymore. He could see the human face and hand that was in place of the warmth he'd found. The innocence faded into a deadly grin and with a sickening pop, Jack dislocated Bruce's wrist.
Everything happened too quick. The change in expression, the grip on his wrist and suddenly Bruce gave a pained cry as his hand went limp and the pain rocketed up his arm. In his armor this wouldn't have happened, had he been prepared he could have prevented it. But he wasn't playing that role Jack so desperately wanted him to, so Bruce Wayne was laying on the ground underneath his lover with a painful reminder of who he wasn't.
Jack stood up with Bruce laying under him between his feet. Looking dangerous as he tried to establish dominance over the human whoíd posed as his wonderful darkness. He was grinning and watching the man writhe under him. A soft breathy child-like laugh left him. "Does it hurt?" His brain wasnít registering that it was Bruce he was hurting.
He had to lay there and take it, for Jack's sanity and his own. He glared up at the man and bite down on his tongue to keep himself from giving anymore more then a muffled grunt as he sat up holding his wrist.
Jack put his foot on Bruce's chest and forced him into laying back down. "Is this a good enough outburst for you?" He whispered dangerously. Looking ready to tear Bruce apart he stared down at the man and grinned viciously, baring his yellow teeth.
It was enough that Bruce could use it. Pushing up with all his strength, he sat up somewhat and rammed his elbow into the back of Jack's supporting kneecap.
Jack cried out in pain which switched into mad giggles and collapsed to the floor. He laughed on reflex and pulled his leg close to keep Bruce from hurting him again.
Bruce stood up, giving himself the height advantage. "Do you want to go back this badly?" He demanded.
Green eyes looked up at Bruce and blinked more tears. "I have to....I have to see him..."
"Why?!" Bruce almost roared, not caring about the pain anymore. "Why aren't I enough?"
"You don't understand!" He roared back. "He needs me!"
"He doesn't need you out there, he needs you here!" He shouted back and clamped his teeth shut behind his lips a second later. "You know what," he continued on without missing a beat. "He doesn't need you, but I do."
Jack looked genuinely hurt and he managed to get on his hands and knees. He crawled over to Bruce and nervously reached out to touch him. "Bruce.." He stared at the man with true sadness in his eyes. "I was born...without joy...or love...and the one person...who loved me the most..." Jack stopped his attempt to reach out to Bruce and he sat up on his knees. He sobbed. "I never got to be a daddy. I was a terrible husband, and I was a bad son." He bawled. "Batman stands for the humanity that I have lost. He is the light in my darkness as I am the darkness to his light." Jack sniffled. "I could imagine what he must have endured to make him what he is..."
Bruce backed away from him, a look of utter confusion and disbelief on his face. "And you think you're alike? You think he lived the same life, like he could even fathom what you've been through?" He shook his head. "No one can sympathize, Jack. Especially not Batman. Because no matter what made him, it's not even half of what made you."
Jack rubbed at his eyes and cried into his hands. "...I hurt you again..." The horrible guilt was eating at his human side and it burned him painfully. The voices were screaming in his head, screaming laughter. The Joker was amused with the chaos heíd brought between Bruce and Jack.
Bruce sighed, holding his wrist. "Yes, you did." He said honestly and far too tired for the early afternoon. "But Alfred can fix it."
Jack looked up at Bruce with glowing hopeful eyes. "And?" He wiped his face clean on the sleeves and cuffs of the dress shirt.
"And if you ever leave again looking for that vigilante I'm sending you back to Arkham." He said seriously. "For your own good."
Those words had an effect on Jack his eyes dilated some and he physically relaxed in Bruce's sight. He blinked and waited for more.
"Just..." Bruce could feel the pain in his wrist reminding him it needed to be fixed soon. "Go watch tv or something. Keep yourself occupied while I get this taken care of."
Blinking again he stared at Bruce and stood up. Then turning around he walked to the couch and sat down. He never looked so worried and paranoid before. His legs were pulled up to his chest and he stared anxiously back and forth from the TV to were Bruce had retreated to be tended to.
Alfred was waiting for Bruce, taking the younger mans wrist in hand. "Today was a bad day." The elder man said matter of factly. "Tomorrow will be better." Bruce said like a man who knew the pattern and bore with it. Alfred didn't give Bruce any warning for saying that and his cry was heard through the entire penthouse as Alfred popped his wrist back into place.