A/N: Greetings Lovelies! Here is one of the many (MANY) random ideas I have about who Nolanverse Joker was before he was the Joker. (I actually wrote this a few years ago, so apologies if it feels a little under-developed.)
WARNINGS: Slash, adult themes/situations, violence and (worst of all) a touch of fluffy OOC-ness on adult Joker's part. (As fluffy as I can write him, anyway...)
BETA: None.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Joker or Gotham City; they are property of DC and Warner Bros. I also do not own any of the lyrics in this story, all of which come from 'Heart-Shaped Glasses (When The Heart Guides The Hand)" by Marilyn Manson. I do own Jack and Jay (kinda.)
Jack's Lover (When The Heart Guides The Hand)
"Don't break, don't break my heart,
And I won't break your heart-shaped glasses,
Little girl, little girl you should close your eyes,
Their blue is getting me high and making me low."
Jack lay in bed with his chest pressed up against the back of his lover. Their exposed skin was hot and still covered with a fine sheen of sweat. He was grinning lazily and playing with Jay's hair, taking advantage of the fact that Jay was far too relaxed at the moment to be bothered to push his hands away. Jay hated it when Jack played with his hair, which was the reason he was grinning. Well, one of the reasons anyway.
On impulse, Jack leaned over Jay's neck to whisper in his ear, "I love you Jay."
Jay smiled without opening his eyes. "I know Jack. I love me too."
Jack rolled his eyes and pushed himself away. "You're such an arsehole."
"And you're a dick," Jay giggled, still with his eyes closed. "Aren't we just the perfect couple?"
"You're not funny," Jack said in disgust. He was annoyed now. "And we're anything but perfect." How could they be? Jay was very immature. Most of the time, Jack found it cute, even amusing, but right now the novelty of dating a teenager who was almost a decade younger than him had lost its charm.
However, he had succeeded in catching his attention. Jay's eyes snapped open and he rolled over to face Jack.
"Hey! I am too funny-" Jay began, before cutting himself off as Jack abruptly climbed out of bed. "What are you doing? Jack, hey, I was only joking! C'mon, you know I love you..." He smiled again, that smile he knew Jack loved and reached a hand out to him. "Come back to bed and I'll prove it to you."
But Jack had had enough. "For Christ's sake Jay! You can't use love as a bargaining chip for sex!"
"Actually, I'm pretty sure you can..." Jay frowned and let his hand fall back onto the sheets, before catching sight of Jack's expression and backtracking sheepishly. "But that's not what I meant."
Jack just rolled his eyes again and began to get dressed. Jay crawled to the end of the bed and knelt there, his lack of clothing apparently not bothering him in the slightest.
"Jack, please," he said quietly. "Don't go yet. We just got here." He bit his lip, watching Jack ignore him while he searched the dingy budget motel room for his shirt. "You know I was only-"
"-joking?" Jack finished for him, turning to face the younger man he'd just left alone in bed. "I know Jay. That's exactly my point. You're always 'just joking'. I mean, don't you ever take anything seriously?"
Jay's lip curled, baring his teeth. "And why would I do that?" he growled. "What's the fucking point of taking things seriously? It's all just a joke Jack. Nothing means anything in the end. Not me. Not you. Not anything. So why should I take life so seriously?"
"I can't believe you just said that," Jack said, shocked by Jay's bizarre little rant. "Do you honestly believe that there is no meaning in anything?"
Jay began to laugh at that and Jack turned away from him again. He'd heard Jay talk like this before, but for some reason it had never really sunk in that he actually meant it. It was hard to take Jay seriously when he was always joking, ironically enough.
Jack had found his shirt and pulled it on by the time that Jay had settled down enough to speak again. He was still giggling to himself, although what was so funny Jack didn't understand.
"Hehehe. Hey Jack, why so serious?" Jay purred the last three words. "Haha... I like the sound of that. I think I'll say it more often."
"You do that Jay," Jack muttered, unimpressed. "Tell me, if nothing means anything, and you and I don't matter at all, then what is the point of us even being together?"
Jay cocked his head to one side and grinned. "Silly Jack. There is no point. It's something we just do because we can. Because we want to."
Jay's grin was putting Jack a little on edge. Something about him had changed just now. Or perhaps nothing had changed, and Jack was just seeing something in Jay that he hadn't realised was there before now. Either way, it unnerved him, and he didn't like it.
"I can't do that," he said. "I can't believe that."
"You mean you don't want to," Jay replied.
"Whatever," Jack snapped. "I'm leaving now." He turned his back on Jay and was about to open the door when Jay spoke again.
"You said you loved me."
Jack froze with his hand on the doorknob. Jay's voice was quiet again, only just loud enough for him to hear. "What?"
Unseen by Jack, who was still facing the door, Jay ran his fingertips lightly over the mattress where Jack had been lying just minutes ago. "You said it just now. Were you lying?"
"I-"
"I love you Jack."
Jack could feel Jay's eyes boring into the back of his head. "Jay, I..."
"Look at me." After a few seconds, when Jack still hadn't moved, Jay repeated himself, this time projecting his voice so it was much louder, deeper and more threatening. "Look at me!" Jack turned instantly and Jay smiled again, that smile he knew Jack loved and reached a hand out to him. "Come here and I'll prove it."
Without really thinking about it, Jack walked over to Jay until he stood in front of him. Jay, who was still on his knees on the bed, pulled Jack forward into an embrace and buried his face in his chest. They stayed like that for a few moments, until Jack attempted to run his fingers through Jay's hair. Jay sat back immediately, swatting away Jack's hands with an amused smirk.
"Stop it. You know I hate that. You're just bloody lucky I love you because you wouldn't get away with it otherwise."
"Is that supposed to be your proof?" Jack asked sarcastically.
"Partially," Jay admitted. "But I also have this." He was twirling a small brown envelope between his fingers.
Jack ran his eyes over the messed-up bed sheets and Jay's still naked body. "Where did you get that from?"
Jay grinned again. "Your back pocket. I put it there earlier. TA-DAA!"
"You're an idiot." Jack muttered as he took the envelope. He started to tear it open, but Jay caught his hands.
"You can't open it."
"What the hell?! Why give it to me at all if I can't open it?!"
It was Jay's turn to roll his eyes. "Now who's being an idiot? I meant that you can't open it yet."
"Well, when can I open it?" Jack frowned.
"When it's time," Jay said teasingly.
"That's just infuriatingly unhelpful," Jack protested as he slipped the envelope back into his pocket.
Jay smirked again. "I know."
"Has anyone ever told you that you are incredibly annoying?" Jack asked.
"Hmm," Jay pretended to be considering it as he wrapped his arms around Jack's waist. "I think you've mentioned it a couple of times."
"Uh-huh. Well, you're also insane."
For some reason, Jay found that absolutely hilarious. He burst out laughing again and fell back onto the bed, choosing to drag Jack down on top of him. He pulled the only somewhat resisting Jack close and brought his lips to his ear.
"Tell me Jack," he whispered. "Why so serious?
"I don't mind you leaving me on pins and needles,
If I could stick to you, you could stick me too."
Jack left to motel room some hours later with his lazy grin back in place. The envelope was still in his pocket, forgotten.
He didn't remember it until after he had gotten back to his apartment, kissed his girlfriend hello and began to undress to take a shower. He felt the envelope in the pocket of his jeans and took it out. He turned it over and over in his hands, gnawing at his lip and debating whether or not to just tear it open. Eventually he returned it to his pocket.
The next morning on his way to work he called Jay's cell-phone to ask if he wanted to meet-up that night, but it put him straight through to voicemail. Over the next week he called him several times, until one-day his call was cut off by an automated voice informing him that phone line he was attempting to connect with had been disabled.
Confused, he went to Jay's house. Jay wasn't there, but his parents were. He later saw on the news that from what remained of their bodies, the police were able to conclude that they had been dead approximately two months and that their son had been missing for several weeks now, presumed dead. He was the primary suspect in his parent's murder. When Jack heard that, and remembered what he had been doing with Jay two months earlier, he threw-up.
After he had calmed down, he took the envelope from where it had been sitting unopened in his bedside table and he put in a locked box which he hid in the bottom of his wardrobe. He didn't open it and as time passed, he eventually stopped wondering what was inside. He also stopped wondering where Jay was and what had happened to him. He simply forgot about it.
"She reminds me of a one I knew that cut up the negatives of my life,
I couldn't take my hands off her,
She wouldn't let me be anywhere but inside."
[ Ten years later.]
"Tell them your name..."
Jack stared at the television screen, transfixed by the video message from the Joker as no doubt thousands of others all around Gotham had been when it was broadcast for the first time earlier that day.
His wife was in the other room, reading the kids a bedtime story. She'd already seen the video, and had been very disturbed by it.
He could see why.
Off-screen, he could hear the excited panting of the Joker's breath, accompanied by his constant giggling as he taunted the poor ugly bastard in the Batman costume. It was clear that he was enjoying himself immensely.
Jack shuddered and sat back further against the couch cushions, wondering what Gotham had done to deserve being terrorized by this sick, deranged psychopath. He brought his glass of brandy to his lips and sipped it, grimacing at Joker's attempt to 'comfort' the man.
The Clown ran a gloved a gloved hand over his cheek and whispered 'shush shush shush shush' before slapping him.
"So you think Batman's made Gotham a better place? Hmm? Look at me. Look at me!"
Jack sat bolt upright so suddenly that he accidentally sloshed brandy all down his front. But he didn't notice. His heart was pounding in his chest, he was too shocked to think straight and his ears were filled with an unexplainable roaring noise.
He knew that voice. He'd heard it before.
In a second he was back in his twenties, staring at a door. Behind him, that kid who he used to fuck was talking to him, telling him that he loved him. It was then that he had said it.
"Look at me. Look at me!"
He'd turned to see the kid kneeling naked on the bed. Smiling and beckoning to him. He'd always looked so sexy with that gorgeous hair of his falling into his eyes...
In the next second he was back in the present, that same kid now looking out from the television screen. His face, much older now, was smeared with ghastly paint. His voice, which had used to be so sweet, was rambling something threatening about Batman, Gotham and killing people. His hair, oh his hair, was now some disgusting green colour, framing eyes which were crazed and evil. He was terrifying.
"Jay..." Jack whispered. "Oh dear God..."
He jumped up to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. There, with his once-lover's insane laughter whirling around in his skull, he fell to his knees in front of the toilet where he once again found himself throwing-up.
After a horrible period of heaving and retching he dragged himself to his feet and splashed cold water from the sink over his face and neck. His wife was outside of the door, asking if he was okay in a panicky voice. He told her something about a stomach bug that was going around at the office and asked her to go to bed and leave him alone. When she was gone he sank down to sit on the edge of the bathtub and buried his face in his hands.
"Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God" he muttered to himself over and over. "This isn't happening, this can't be happening, no fucking way is this happening..."
Then he froze, becoming absolutely still as he remembered something else about Jay that he should never have forgotten. He got to his feet and crept quietly from the bathroom down the hall to the spare bedroom. In the wardrobe of the spare bedroom was a box, and in that box was an envelope, and in that envelope...
Jack held the envelope in shaking hands for a full ten minutes before he finally found the courage to tear it open. Inside were six playing cards, five of them smeared with a dark substance which was probably blood. Being careful only to touch the edges of the cards lest his stomach start to heave again, he sat down on the bed and lay them out in front of him.
First, there was a Joker card, with a bloody 'I' written on it. Next, an ace of hearts. Finally, there were four Jack's, one from each suit, each bearing a bloody letter. 'J', 'A', 'C' and 'K'. Laid out in order, the cards read "I (love) JACK".
Jack's eyes roamed idly over the cards, wondering if the blood belonged to Jay's parents, to Jay himself, or some other anonymous victim of the Joker whose name he would never know.
Then he gathered up the cards, walked into his tiny kitchen, lit the stove and burned them all. The scent of melted plastic hit his nose as the monstrous love letter disappeared into a few tiny traces of ash and wisps of smoke. Finally, he burnt the envelope. When it was all incinerated, he turned the gas off and sighed.
"Goodbye Jay," he whispered. "I hope you burn in hell, you sick bastard."
"She'll never cover up what we did with a dress, no,
She said 'Kiss me. It will heal, but it won't forget',
Kiss me. It will heal, but it won't forget."
Somewhere out in Gotham City, the Joker sat at a table with a group of his men and shuffled a deck of cards. They were playing poker, and it was his deal. Each man had received his cards and Joker had selected the card from the top of the deck to place face-up when something odd happened. The Joker froze, staring at the card in his hand. After a second, he shook his head, and ran his free hand through his hair as though attempting to dislodge ghostly fingers.
"Hey Boss, you okay?" the man sitting next to him asked.
Without taking his eyes from the card, or giving any other sign that he had noticed the man speaking to him, Joker flicked a knife from his sleeve and buried it in the man's throat. There was silence from the other men around the table as their unfortunate collage clutched at his throat in panic. Blood from the severed artery sprayed across the table and the floor as his wild spasms threw him out of his chair and onto the ground at the Clown's feet. No-one moved so much as a muscle. They all sat in silence, listening to the horrible sounds the man made as he died, and watching their Boss. For the longest time he just sat and stared at the card in his hand, until finally he looked up.
"Light," he demanded, holding out a gloved hand expectantly. The men where all quick to scramble at their pockets, until someone produced a lighter and handed it to him. There was a tiny click as he produced a flame and held it to the card, which lit almost immediately and burned just as fast. The Joker dropped the lighter and his men all flinched as it hit the table's surface.
He looked up at them happily. "The Jack of Hearts," he said, before his voice dropped into a growl. "I don't like that card..."
The men were all careful not to show any signs of bewilderment as he produced another deck of cards from his jacket.
"Who's up for a new game...?" the Joker grinned.