We were the inseparable trio; Jack, Jonathan, and I

It all started at GMS, Gotham Middle School . It was my first day attending, and I felt a strange sense of power and fear when people regarded me as a sixth grader. I was one of the big kids now. Excitement fluttered in my stomach like a swarm of startled butterflies, and I put on my favorite borrowed sweater from my mother. It was light gray in color, with the elbows worn out from old age. It was a dress on me, and I felt pretty beneath its soft, weathered material.

My first day remains crystal clear in my mind. I sat by myself in the auditorium, listening to the buzz and excited hum of conversation that swirled around my ears. The orientation consisted mainly of teachers introducing themselves, laying down the rules, and making our futures at GMS seem brighter and more successful than they could ever possibly be. When the principal dismissed us I was caught in a torrent of children; all pushing and shoving to get out of the sweaty, stuffy building.

There was a crowd of well-groomed kids chanting in a circle near the basketball court. I felt a low, bleak feeling creep into my stomach, and I pushed my way through the screaming mob.

"Beat the freak, beat the freak!"

The words that they screamed settled into my ear and stung my brain. I shoved my way blindly though the jackets and expensive dress shirts that made up the population of the group, and what I saw turned my blood to ice.

A boy lay crumpled in a heap, body shaking violently when ever his tormentors kicked or spat at him. He lay on his belly, arms curled against his head to protect himself. I tasted bile in the back of my throat and something…darker. A heavy, black emotion soured and coated the back of my tongue; disgust…revulsion.

"Stop it!" I screamed, hurling myself on top of the boy's fallen form, wrapping my arms protectively around his back.

I took the two boys, who were beating on this tormented soul, by surprise and they paused for a minute. The chanting died down and a murmur arose from the crowd. They seemed to be soaking me in; appraising my unbrushed hair and my baggy and tattered clothes with their shallow, scornful eyes. One brave kid pumped his fist in the air, shrieking; "Beat the freaks, beat the freaks!"

Like a mindless animals the rest of the crowd began to thrust their fists and chant. Encouraged, the two bullies began kicking me all over. I squealed when the toe of an expensive Italian shoe thrust itself into my cheek, and began to cry when the other boy jammed his foot into my ribs.

A loud shink, the sound of metal scraping against something solid, caught the bullies' attention, and they stopped raining blows upon our two frail and broken bodies. The circle became silent as the sound became louder, and they parted, revealing a boy about my age. My vision was so blurry from my tears that I took me a second to realize why the once lively crowd had gone dead silent.

My eyes first landed on his hands, on the switchblade cradled in his right fist. Then, they flickered to the boy's face, trying to measure the expression there. That's when I saw the scars.

They started at the corner of the boy's lips and ended at his cheekbones, leaving a crooked trail of pink, puckered scar tissue along the sides of his cheeks. I could feel my tongue swell with a sort of pitiful disgust, and I couldn't seem to look away. My heart skipped a beat when his gaze drifted upon me, and I tore my look away from his emerald-flecked eyes and taut, ragged scars.

"Classy," his voice rang loud and raspy, filling the silence with an eerie tension that he only heightened when he thumbed his switchblade out, and then retracted it.

"Beating up on a lady, now fellas? That's real…real bold of you. I bet you feel manly now, leaving her on the floor like that."

He pointed his knife in my direction, emphasizing my current position.

"I like to think of myself as a…a gentleman, call me old fashioned and all." He leaned towards the boy in the Italian shoes, grinning maliciously, and swiped at him with the blade.

He was skilled, for he only grazed the boy's cheek, leaving a clean red line across his skin. Blood dribbled from the wound and with disbelief in their eyes, the bullies bolted. The boy smirked at the crowd and walked up to me; crouching before the lump that I had become on the floor. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for him to hurt me. My body tensed, and I held my breath.

Shink. Nothing happened. I peeked my eyes open and saw that he had retracted the blade and was holding out a hand. A helping hand. I reached for it with my own trembling fingers and, with exceptional ease, he pulled me up to a standing position. The group was a mess of wide eyes and held breath, and they dispersed quickly when the boy waved his knife at them.

I turned my gaze from my scarred savior to the wrecked boy on the floor. He had lost consciousness a while ago, his breathing slow and soft. With sorrowful fluidity, I knelt next to him and cradled his head in my lap. I turned his face heavenward, so that he could breathe a little easier, and was shocked at how oddly…pretty he was.

He had large eyes, almost a little too big for his adolescent face, and round, pouty lips. My eyes slowly tore away from his angelic face to his attire, which was probably the reason for all of the fuss. He wore a large plaid shirt that must've been his father's; that could be the only explanation for how immensely huge it was on him. His jeans were ripped and stained with dirt, showing his boney knees though the missing material. His body was light under my touch, even though he was unconscious, which alluded to a waif-like figure.

The boy standing beside me grunted, and I whipped my head around to thank him profusely.

"No problem, I always enjoy saving a…damsel…in distress." He shrugged and tucked his switchblade into the pocket of his flannel shirt.

"What's your name?" I asked hopefully, wanting more than ever to find out about this mysterious creature that had saved me and the angel in my lap.

"Jack…Jack Napeir…you?"

"Mia Ashcroft." I beamed, trying to convey the overwhelming gratitude that I felt for him through my smile.

"Who's the…umm…boy…?" There was annoyance in his voice; he had not intended to save a boy, even a boy as effeminate as this one.

"I dunno, he sure is….pretty though, isn't he?" I mused, just speaking my thoughts, playing with a lock of his thick mop.

"No wonder they were beating the crap outta him," Jack grumbled to himself.

His eyes cut across to meet mine, and as soon as they met my grey gaze, they dropped to floor. His fingers traced the length of his scars, and I could see his tongue do the same from the inside of his mouth.. Must've been a nervous habit.

"Umm…can I ask you a question?"

His eyes darted to mine, something brooding and dark writhing like an animal behind his soft green irises. He measured my face and knew what I was going to ask. Those scars had my tongue tingling with questions, but that look in his eyes sedated my thoughts.

"No," he whispered raspily, fully knowing what I was going to ask. His voice was always seemingly torn between that of a boy's voice, soft and high, and a man's gravelly tone. I liked it.

I cast my eyes back to the fallen angel, who was showing signs of life again. His eyelids would twitch or his fingers would jerk, until his eyelids fluttered open revealing a pair of stunning, confused blue eyes.

He bolted to a sitting position, and then grabbed his head, which I'm sure was throbbing with the heavy beat of a headache. He turned his porcelain face to me, eyes flickering between Jack, who was looking off in the distance, mind elsewhere, and I. His mouth formed a small frown but still retained his pout.

"Who are you?" His voice was cold and demanding.

I smiled my best at him, trying to convey to him that I was a creature of kindness.

"I'm Mia Ashcroft." My hand unconsciously reached out to him.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, glaring at me from under the thick fringe of his dark lashes.

Jack jumped in his skin at the sudden malice in the boy's voice, bringing him back from the abyss of his mind. He sighed, annoyed, and ran a hand through his long, dirty blond hair..

"Shut up," Jack growled, agitated, "she saved you from being beaten to a bloody pulp, so show the girl some manners."

The boy shifted his frosty glare to Jack, who, as a response, stuck his long tongue out at him between smiling lips. The boy rose, never taking his fierce stare off of Jack, and stalked away. He was exceptionally tall for his age and, with his lanky build and worn clothes, something about him reminded me of…a scarecrow.

Jack was attacked with a fit of giggles, and the boy, who was still in hearing distance, turned his head back at us as he walked. His big, almost buggy, blue eyes scorched through Jack, and then his gaze shifted to me. His irises were hard and clear like ice and the lids around them narrowed considerably. The first thought that popped into my mind was, if looks could kill…

The boy's head snapped back to look ahead of him and I rose to my feet and stared sadly after his retreating form. I turned towards Jack, who had stopped his maniacal fit and seemed to be watching me.

"Wow…he is…something else," I said slowly, having a hard time finding a suitable word to describe the boy.

A laugh sparkled in Jack's golden-green eyes.

"You are too kind with your words. He is a dick."

"It's probably because he's got no friends. Maybe-"

"Why would anyone want to be friends with that kid?"

"I hate being interrupted," I stated flatly, hoping to get my point across without being too rude.

Jack blinked at me, grinned a wicked smile, and then gestured for me to continue with mocking in his eyes.

I coughed uncomfortably and continued.

"Maybe all he needs is a friend."

"Oh well that's too bad," Jack cooed with false concern, "'cause he sure as hell won't find one in this school."

"I'm going to befriend him," I announced defiantly.

"Good luck with that."

"You're going to help me." A mischievous smile tinged my lips.

Jack raised his eyebrows at me, a small smile of amusement playing on his lips.

"Really?"

"Really," I said, grinning up at him.

Without even thinking, I grabbed his hand and dragged him in the direction that the boy had stormed off. A slight blush crept underneath his olive skin, and it confused me, but I continued to haul him over to the little courtyard where I saw the twig of a boy sitting in the shade of a tree with a book propped up on his knees.

I walked all the way up to his feet and knelt down in front of him.

"Hello," I said pleasantly, watching his bright blue eyes scan the pages of his science textbook.

He didn't acknowledge me, so I continued to speak.

"We kinda got off on bad terms…soooo, how 'bout I reintroduce myself?" He looked up at me for the briefest second, then went back to his text.

"I'm Mia Ashcroft. And that," I hiked my thumb at Jack, "is Jack Napeir."

Jack stood behind me, weight shifted to his left foot, staring bored at the smoggy sky.

No response.

"What's your name?" I encouraged, my eyes searching his face for the slightest hint of emotion.

He flipped a page in his book. I felt a spark of anger alight in my belly; I hated being ignored even more than I hated being interrupted. I rose to my small height and put my hands on my narrow hips.

"Why are you ignoring me? Do you treat all the people who help you out like this?"

His eyes flickered to mine, the fire of shame and anger still simmering behind his crystalline irises. He didn't say anything.

I sighed, not yet defeated, and returned to my sitting position in front of his feet. Jack eventually joined me in the grass, still caught up in his head. We sat there for a good ten minutes, picking at the blades of imported flora. My gaze kept drifting towards the boy, and when he finally spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"What exactly do you want from me?" His voice was tired, like it had been an effort to ignore us for such a long, uncomfortable time.

"Just your company, that's all," I said casually, playing with a blade of grass.

"My company?" He questioned, slightly confused.

I peered up into his eyes and saw a spark of interest gleam in their watery blue depths.

"Yeah, because…you know… Heck, I'm not going to sugar coat it. We're freaks, at least in the eyes of the kids here. You, me, and Jack are different, but different…well, different isn't always a bad thing. We should stick together, you know? Have each other's backs and all that. I'm curious about you, anyways." I flashed him a smile, and his eyes softened.

"Should we give this introduction thing another try?" I teased. "Third time is the charm."

He gave me an uncertain, closed-lipped smile, his eyebrows pulling together, and extended his hand.

"I'm Jonathan…Jonathan Crane. And you're Mia."

I took his hand and was a little surprised at how soft and smooth the skin was; a drastic difference from Jack's rough and calloused palms.

Speaking of Jack, I swiveled around and found him gazing blankly at the sky, completely lost in thought. I tugged his hair and he snapped out of his daze with a start, shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts. I leaned over to him and poked his nose, which caused him to glare playfully at me. I bit back a giggle and turned back to Jonathan, who was, by the look on his face, feeling a bit left out.

"Jonathan this is Jack," I laughed, "and Jack this is Jonathan…"

Jonathan regarded Jack with cautious eyes, probably wondering about his scars. I touched his hand and his clear blue gaze shifted over to me, where I shook my head and softly warned him with my eyes.

Jack didn't seem to have noticed our quiet exchange, for he was plucking the legs off of a grasshopper.

"Jack!" I sighed, warning him to stop.

He grinned at me and flicked the legless insect in my direction. I squealed and scooted backwards, trying to avoid the bug. It landed near me and I crawled closer to Jonathan, as to get away from the dead creature. Jonathan shifted uncomfortably…I must've gotten into his personal bubble.

"You suck," I said to Jack, with a deliberate pout on my face.

He just rolled over and laughed; a wild, hearty sound that was mildly contagious. I smiled and Jonathan seemed amused enough, though his smile didn't touch his eyes. I wanted to get him involved.

"Quiz time!" I cried.

Jack rolled up to a sitting position, clutching his stomach and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Jonathan had closed his book and had his arms around his legs, chin resting on his knees. He was watching me with curious eyes.

"Quick, Jack, what's your favorite color?"

"What the heck, Mia?" he rolled his eyes and reclined on his elbows.

"Pressure, Jack, pressure!" I laughed.

"I…umm…purple!"

"Alrighty…Jonathan, favorite animal?"

"Humans," he replied with a grin, as if enjoying a private joke.

A little odd…but…weren't we all?

"Cool," I smiled at him. "Okay-"

"Mia! What's your favorite pastime?" Jack cut me off, his voice high and excited.

"Umm…sewing!" I replied gleefully.

The game went on for an hour or so, questions becoming more and more random. Jonathan was getting engaged, his eyes danced and he even smiled for real a couple of times. As it turns out, we all had a lot of things in common, besides the fact that we were all poor and considered freaks. None of us had siblings, we all lived in the same part of town, and we all utterly despised Chinese food, among other things. Jonathan revealed that he wanted to become a psychiatrist, while Jack and I were completely undecided on our future occupation.

I sighed, smiling, and lay down in the grass, my dark hair fanning out from beneath me.

"I want to rule the world."

"Me too," Jack sighed contentedly, propped up on his elbow next to me, staring at the wide, grey sky.

I don't think he realized that his other hand played with a hunk of my hair.

Jonathan lay beside me on his back, hands behind his head.

"You guys are crazy," he laughed.

"We're all crazy," I said, staring at the sky. "The difference between us and the rest is that we accept our insanity while the others go on pretending to be sane."

"You're quite the philosopher," Jonathan teased with good humor, elbowing me a little.

I merely smiled softly at him, gazing up at the sparse clouds hanging like ripped sheets on a clothesline in the faded sky. We were like pieces of a puzzle, clicking perfectly into each other: Jonathan being the shy genius, Jack being the fearless comic, and me…the piece that brought the two opposites together.

We were the trio of misfits; Jack, Jonathan and I.

And one day, one of us would rule the world

A/N: Haha...I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants here! :D The Joker and Crane may not seem in-character right now, but as they get older they'll develop ito the bad boys we know and love. Reviews are very very very appreciated!