CHAPTER SIX

Thin ice, deep water

He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Both his eyes were blackened from the beating Patterson's men had given him, his face was deathly white from blood loss and pain. His mouth was a piece of raw meat, oozing blood constantly.

His mouth..........

Now he'd always be smiling. Now people would remember him, would see him as something.......more. Ideas floated through his head, enhanced by the agony from his cuts. Oh the things he could do now. Those mob assholes thought they'd broken him with their fear toxin and their crooked shrink but what they'd done....well, they'd helped him. Freed him, as it were.

And when the time came he'd repay them. He'd show them it wasn't about money and Armani suits and women. It was about destruction and fearlessness and mortality. It was about how everything burned. It was about hanging on to nothing. He'd show them. They'd see.

His tongue flicked over the corner of his mouth, tasting the wounds. It hurt but he didn't mind a bit. He tried to smile and the motion made the gashes bleed around the crude stitches. Droplets of blood spattered into the sink, sounding oddly like rain on a tin roof.

Tap

Tap

Tap

"Whatcha smiling about?" he asked his reflection and giggled, sending fresh rivulets of blood down his face.

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"Not long after that I paid a visit to 'ole Mom and, um, Dad. Figured I had some catching up to do with 'em...so to speak."

Samantha sat on the bed, listening silently. Jack was sitting on the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He had been rambling about the aftermath of his run-in with Patterson and Crane but now seemed intent on speaking about his parents.

"Ya know, Dad always said a life without structure was a sign of a disturbed mind." Jack continued, unfazed by her silence. "He insisted on order. Rules. Structure."

Your Dad was also a scumbag, she thought but kept the thought to herself. Instead she said: "Hm."

There was really no reason to say much. He was a talker and now he had her to listen to him. The things he spoke of were dark things, dredged up from the very bottom of his soul and into the light like so many squirming monstrosities. And he did so with malignant glee.

"Did I ever tell ya what I did to them? My, ah, my par-ents?" The last word came out as a hate filled snarl.

She blinked, not really wanting to hear a story that would keep her awake half the night. "No, but I can guess."

A dangerous grin spread over his face. "I'll tell ya...later."

"Okay," Samantha said, barely surpressing a sigh of relief.

He was quiet for a few seconds, hands drumming on his legs restlessly, tongue sloshing in his mouth as his mind whirred along. He could never relax, hardly slept. She didn't know how he could stay at such a frenetic pace all the time. Since he'd broken out of Arkham he'd changed, become edgier, moodier. Samantha wasn't sure if it was from the months of confinement or the drugs the doctors pumped into him or both. At first she hadn't noticed but as they spent more time together she could see it. It worried her a little. He wasn't in any position to become more unstable.

"You know Sam, if you decide to leave and go back to Gotham I want you to tell them I kidnapped you and you....you escaped. Don't tell 'em the truth."

She cocked her head in confusion. "Why not? And what makes you think I want to leave?"

"I'm just saying 'if'. And if you do tell Gordon and the rest of 'em the truth they'll hound ya for the rest of your life. They'll always watch you, might even put you in Arkham." He paused for a second, eyes gleaming with amusement. "But then again you might get to meet the Bat-man. He'd come to you.....to ask about me."

The Batman. If he could feel anything approaching love she figured it would be for Gotham's absent guardian. Probably not that kind of love, but then again who knew with Jack? No, he seemed to have a bizarre kind of affection for the other man. In a way they were kindred spirits. Brothers in lunacy. Of course it wouldn't stop Jack from making his life miserable.

She knew he missed him, was waiting for him to surface. And if he didn't surface she knew Jack would eventually get bored and draw him out.

"Well I've always wanted to see him in person," she answered casually. "But given the circumstances it wouldn't be a good idea, would it?"

"Hmm no. Guess it wouldn't. Anyway I'm just, uh, messing with ya Sam. Just saying that if you ever left you'd have to lie to get 'em to leave you alone."

"You keep bringing it up. Are you wanting me to leave?" She knew he didn't want her to. No, he was playing one of his games, trying to find out if she wanted to leave.

"Nononono. Why would I want that? Hm? After all I did to get you to come with me?" He absently picked at the fabric of his green vest. "No, I don't want you to go anywhere. Definitely not."

The way he said it sent a twinge of concern through her. He sounded like he wouldn't let her go if she wanted to. That hadn't been part of the deal. But he also had a knack for making everything sound sinister.

Because it usually is.

"Besides....they'll want to know about those marks you got. Can you imagine the look on Gordon's face if he knew how you got them? Hm? Think he'd still like you after that?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Come to think of it maybe you should tell him the truth one day.....just to get him, um, going. Shake 'em up a little." He had a dreamy look on his face, as if imagining Gordon's disgust and finding it pleasurable.

Samantha lit a cigarette and looked him over. "You sure love a good mind game don't you?"

He leaped from the floor and settled on the bed next to her. "You know I do. Always have." He leaned in close to her, make-up smeared face inches from hers. "So do you."

"Depends on the game," she answered, absently flicking ashes on the floor. "If it doesn't grab my interest I stop playing. You know that as well as anyone....Boss." She smiled at him, noting he didn't return it.

"Yeah I kinda noticed. Oh yeah...I was gonna tell ya about my dear old Mom and Dad wasn't I? How could I, ah, for-get about that?"

Samantha could only shake her head in resignation. Yes....Jack certainly was a talker nowadays.

A/N: Next chapter is Jack/Joker's story about his parents.