Another Joker origin story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or anything associated with it. All I own is Lorcan and some others :)

Salted Tears

The tears wouldn't stop. Going on forever, never slowing down. What had he done to deserve this? The young blond boy curled into a tight little ball as he leaned against the closed wardrobe door, listening and waiting. He could hear men talking outside, probably in the living room but he couldn't be sure.

"That's all we know at this point in time. So you say you don't have any children?"

There was a choked sob and a negative reply which made Jack look down at the dark floor. Of course he would deny having any children. Lorcan refused to call Jack his son and always made sure to tell the boy every single day that he was nothing more than scum and that he would never be his son. Jack snapped out of his thoughts and listened to the sound of the policemen walking away and to the front door.

So they had believed his father and his crocodile tears?

Drawing a deep and calming breath, the young boy prepared himself for whatever was going to come now. He quickly wiped away his tears, knowing that if his father saw him cry then that would earn him an extra lashing. The wardrobe door was roughly opened, making it slam hard into the wall. His father glared down at him with his cruel, grey eyes.

"Get out."

Jack scurried out of the wardrobe just in time before his father slammed it shut again, nearly catching the blond's leg in it. His acidic eyes looked down at the carpet, too scared to look into those evil eyes again. The brunette crouched down and smirked.

"So, the cops found your mother...dead in a ditch. They also believed every single thing I said." he laughed, grabbing the blond's hair and yanking his head up so he would look him in the eye. Jack stared up at him, feeling sad yet angered at the same time. What his dad had done was unforgivable, not that he would actually forgive him after all the things he had done to him and his mother. Lorcan had got it into his head that his wife, Arienette had been cheating on him with some guy at work so he decided that enough was enough and had used his connections with the mob to hire a hitman to kill her.

Now Jack was all alone in the world, left with this monster...

Lorcan made a tutting sound while shaking his head.

"Jack Jack Jack. What am I going to do with you? You know I hate seeing you down and blue. I love seeing that smile of yours."

That was a lie and Jack knew it. His father was just trying to manipulate and play mind games with him and the blond wasn't going to let that happen. Jack didn't remember the last time he had smiled...if there was ever a time. It was probably when him and his mother went to the park, just the two of them. He remembered feeding the ducks and swans as his mother sat on the grassy bank, happily watching him. Days like that had made him happy but then his happiness would come to a crashing halt when it was time to go home and wait for his pathetic excuse for a father to come home from wherever the hell he went. Lorcan growled and shook Jack roughly, hand still gripping his hair.

"Stop ignoring me you little freak!"

The boy yelped in pain when he was suddenly pulled along the floor behind the man as he walked out of the room. Where were they going?

'No...not the cellar...please not the cellar...'

But the brunette man turned off the hallway and into the small bathroom. He threw Jack forcefully into the room, making the little boy bang his head off off the marble white sink.

"Stay here."

Jack clutched onto the bottom of the sink, terrified of what his father was going to do next. In no time at all, Lorcan came back in with a couple of objects. A rusted knife and a large tube of...salt? Why did he have that? Jack wasn't sure he wanted to know. The older male set the things on the closed toilet seat before going over to the bath and turning the hot water on. It came out in a burst, steam rising as the scalding water filled the tub. Once it had filled to the halfway point, Lorcan picked up the salt and poured every grain of it into the water. The young blond watched fearfully, eyes wide.

"Come here, Boy."

Hesitating, Jack slowly crawled over. He didn't want to go anywhere near the man or the bath but he knew he would get an even worse punishment if he didn't obey his father. Lorcan grabbed hold of his neck and plunged his head into the scalding water. Screaming in complete agony, Jack tasted the salt in his mouth as he thrashed his head and arms about to try and get free of the large man's firm grip. After a few moments he was let up for air, tears mixing with the salty water that was streaming down his face. His whole head and face felt like it was burning, bubbling and melting. It was too painful and he thought he was going to keel over and die from the sheer intensity of it.

He wished he could die.

Lorcan rolled his eyes as he watched Jack cry and pant for breath. That hadn't even been the punishment. Taking the rusted knife in one of his hands, Lorcan shoved it hard into the blond's gasping mouth.

"I'll make you happy again."

As his father swiftly cut each of his cheeks, Jack cried and screamed worse than he ever had before which he hadn't thought was possible. He tasted the rust, metal, blood and salted water mix together, creating a vile taste which filled his entire mouth. The feeling of the rust and salt seeping into his new wounds was just too much to bare.

'Please stop...I can't d-deal with this...too much...'

After he was forced into the water once more, Lorcan finally released him and he toppled to the side, cowering and shaking in the corner underneath the sink. The sound of the knife being dropped echoed throughout the silent bathroom as the other man stalked away, satisfied for now. Once Jack was sure that his father had actually gone he tugged at one of the towels hanging on a rail and pressed it to his bleeding cheeks. He would probably get beaten for getting it all bloody but that wouldn't really make much of a difference.

He always got beaten no matter what he did.

Jack went to back to the wardrobe that night with his face covered in blisters and his cheeks numb because of his new "smile". He curled up in the corner of the wardrobe, using the bloody towel as a blanket since he had nothing else. That night he cried himself to a restless sleep, dreading school the next day.

~~~ "Get up you little brat!"

Jack was dragged out of the wardrobe before he could even get his eyes open. What was going on? Was it morning all ready? But he had just went to sleep hadn't he? Lorcan grabbed the towel from the floor and glared at it.

"What the hell is this?! You got blood all over the good towel?!"

Slap.

Of course Jack had seen it coming. His father was getting far too predictable now. As he watched the angered man storm out, Jack clutched his blistered and wounded cheek, getting up to find a mirror so he could examine the damage that had been done. There was one hanging on the wall out in the hall and Jack timidly went over to it, afraid to look.

What he saw shocked him.

His face was covered in blisters and burns, some skin peeling away like a bad sunburn. His cheeks had large gashes that stretched up into the shape of a smile. Scabs and crusted blood stuck to different parts of his face and a bruise seemed to be forming from where his father had struck him.

'Great...as if I didn't have enough reasons to dread going to school...'

Sighing, he made his way back to the wardrobe where his school uniform was hanging. He went to Guildford Grammar School which was an all boy's private school and uniform was essential there. Once he had put on his black blazer, he went downstairs, hoping to avoid his father. However, Lorcan stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. When he saw Jack he wrinkled his nose.

"Look at the state of your face...cover yourself up."

Jack looked around but was hit in the face when a black and purple striped scarf was throw at him. It was quite stupid to even consider wearing it because the teachers would insist that he take it off because it wasn't part of the uniform. Wrapping the scarf around his mouth, he fixed his bag on his shoulder and left through the door.

Time for another day in hell.

Please review! x3 And points to anyone who knows which awesome guy used to go to Guildford Grammar School ;)