Chapter 7: Memories
Jack buried Midnight under the shade of the oak tree in his backyard that evening.
The German shepherd used to love racing around the old oak, even as a puppy. He'd once even somehow gotten his chain wrapped under one of the roots and it took Jack an hour to realize the pup had actually crawled into a hole under the tree, tangling himself.
He stared down at the mound of raised earth, feeling tears burn in his eyes. That dog had been his only friend besides Jon. Now both of them were gone. He was alone in the world with only one thing on his mind: hatred for the city.
Gotham let him fall. The city had been cruel to him his whole life, always being beaten down and shoved around, such as what those punks had done to him.
I'll show this city I'm not some pushover. I'll show them true comedy.
They'll pay for what they did. They killed Midnight all in fun. Behavior like that is punishable. They need to pay and dearly.
Yes. And I think it's time to move. There will only be trouble if I stay here.
Jack turned, marching away from the tree and into the house. He looked around, wondering what to take with him, if anything.
I should scout around the city for a good place to lay low for a while. The chemical plant thinks I have cancer. Hopefully if I disappear for a while, they'll assume the worst.
He felt rage sweep over him as he pulled the hood back up over his head, walking out the front door and making his way down the sidewalk. He slipped his hands inside the pockets, keeping his head down.
Sighing, he turned, creeping off down an alley. A black cat stared back at him from a dumpster as he passed, yowling at him and arching its back.
After an hour, Jack found himself in the old part of Gotham, where the buildings looked ancient and were falling apart. The area was populated, but not by many. Most of the houses in this district were rundown or abandoned.
He walked down the cracked sidewalk, looking around, getting an idea, stopping in front of an old warehouse.
The building seemed to be intact, with cracked and broken windows. It was a stone gray, with a black roof. A jester hat topped the building. A wooden arch with MONARCH written across it connected the warehouse to a rundown factory sitting next to it, most of the windows busted out.
Jack stared at the warehouse, deep in thought, smiling a little.
This is perfect! I can stay here, as long as it's intact and no one's already using it.
It could be a good hideout so no one can find you. This district has only a small population living here, mostly lower class and junkies. It's perfect.
Jack stepped up onto a crate under one of the windows, putting his hands over his eyes to shut out the glare. The room inside was empty except for a few broken crates. No one was using it. He grinned, jumping down and looking around for anyone before pushing the door open.
The door opened with ease on creaky hinges and he stepped inside, looking around. It was bigger than he'd imagined.
The warehouse was huge inside, very roomy. A collection of crates lined one wall, some broken, but most seemed to be intact.
He moved around, looking up at the crates, seeing that there was at least three rows of them to the wall and they reached at least four rows high.
Looking around, he saw that the whole warehouse was full of fun house materials. A hall of mirrors near the back, leading through a hall. A giant clown head with cracked windows for eyes that might've once been on top of a carnival attraction. As he moved around the room, he looked up, spotting a small castle. He studied it, wondering what it'd once been used for.
This is so you. This place just screams you. Look at it! It's got a great little playhouse and some of these crates are bound to hold some interesting toys.
Yes. It's the perfect place to stay. It hasn't been touched in years and no one should bother me out in this area.
Jack looked around the warehouse, taking in everything. It was the perfect place to hide out for a while. He smiled, a giggle bubbling up from his gut as he looked around.
Perfect in every way.
He walked around the castle, exploring, finding some open space along one of the walls. A Santa chair was leaning against the back wall, dusty from years of abandonment. He looked at the spot, thoughtful.
Forget staying a while. I'm staying here the rest of my life. Look at all this stuff!
With a few changes, this place could be liveable. You could pull that chair out into that space, get a tv, you'd be set with a little living room area.
Hmm, but how would I get my stuff here without people noticing? Surely they'd see me walking down the street with it.
What not scrounge around? Who knows, maybe there is a tv here. Maybe it's just buried in those crates.
Jack paused,thinking it over. He'd be abandoning his house, leaving whatever he didn't take with him behind. But no one would think to check for a while, would they? After all, he was a nobody in the city, someone who could be overlooked if he went missing.
Go for it. No one would notice. You could slip away and no one would care. Soon, this city will see what you're capable of.
I'll be back soon, ready and strong. Gotham won't know what hit it.
Jack turned, taking in all the sights again, smiling.He was a nobody that could slip away unnoticed.No one would care if he disappeared. After all, he'd been a nobody all his life, why should people start to care now?
He glanced at the castle once more before turning fully, heading out of the warehouse and carefully shutting the door behind him, looking around cautiously. No one around to see.
For once, Jack felt at peace in his mind. The voice was right. He could stay here where no one could bother him. Of course, he'd be leaving his home and everything that he wouldn't bring with him, but he felt okay with it.
He trudged down the street, keeping his head low, deep in thought.
Gotham City had brought him nothing but cruelty. All his life, he'd been ignored, beaten up, shoved around, and recently, forgotten.
How can people do this to one another? They take enjoyment out of other peoples' torment and pain. This city is sick.
Jack glanced up as a woman walked past him. She was giving him a dirty look and something bubbled up in him. As she passed behind him, he moved over slightly, feeling her trip over his foot. He smirked as he heard the thud behind him, not looking back.
"Hey, you jerk!"
His smirk grew wider as he walked down the street, keeping to himself.
Well, maybe it's not all bad. These people just don't let up. Someone has to make them pay.
Before he knew it, he was back at his house, blinking up at the door. How long had it taken him to get back? He'd just been in the old part of Gotham...hadn't he?
Time flies when you're having fun, Jacky boy.
Apparently so.
He took his keys out, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Immediately, he felt the loneliness creep in. There was no click of nails on the tile, no happy barking to greet him as he walked in the door.
Sadness filled his heart as he listened to the silence. It was too depressing.
Jack shook his head, feeling tears well up as he slowly marched upstairs, almost waiting for a black blur to race past him up the stairs. Nothing happened and he felt his heart sink even farther.
He stepped off the last stair, heading down the hall to his room. Opening the door, he stared at the short black hairs scattered all over his bed, feeling tears tracking down his cheeks.
No more barking, no more belly rubs, and most of all, no more friends.
Feeling shaky, Jack went over to his bed, sitting down and putting his head in his hands, sniffling. Jon and Midnight had been his only friends all his life. Both were gone now. Jon was insane and committed and Midnight was...
Say it, Jacky. Don't let your sadness rule your heart.
And Midnight was dead.
He sighed, kicking his shoes off and pulling his hood down, flopping back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, folding his hands over his chest.
What exactly am I now?
Well, take a look at yourself. You look like a clown to me.
Yes, but what exactly is going on with me? I don't think I'd normally be thinking these thoughts.
Normal? Who said you were normal?
...I thought I did.
Not anymore. Those chemicals did something to you. You're appearance has changed. Now your attitude is changing.
Is that really so bad?
You're the one who stuck up for yourself with those punks. I'd say that's a good thing. You could've been the coward and run away screaming.
Shut up, I'm not a coward!
No...not anymore.
Jack bit his lip, watching the fan spin, glancing over at the doodles on the wall. He blinked. When had he done that?
He stared at them for a few minutes, trying to remember, then sighed, shutting his eyes, trying to sleep.
I I I
Jack stared down at his shoes as he sat on the swing set, sitting in shadow. He could hear the other kids laughing and playing, running around him happily. He bit his lip, keeping his focus on his shoes.
No one ever wanted to play with him. They didn't care about jokes and card tricks.
"Jack?"
He looked up, blinking, staring up at his friend. Jon sat down beside him on the next swing over, watching him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, swinging back and forth lazily.
Jack sighed, looking at his shoes again.
"No one will play with me. I tried to play dodgeball with Marcus and all they did was push me to the front so I'd get hit first. Then whenever we switched again, they all ran to the side and I got hit again," he mumbled.
Jon shook his head, sighing.
"Don't let them get you down. Stay strong. Don't be afraid." He reached out, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "At least the sixth graders are leaving you alone now."
Jack looked up at him, tears swimming in his eyes.
"But all I wanted to do was play with them. They wouldn't even give me a chance."
"Don't let them put you down, Jacky. I'm still here for you and I always will be." Jon got off the swing, coming over to his friend and hugging him.
Jack returned the hug, sighing, then sat back on the swing.
"Is it really too much just to want to fit in? All I want is for people to give me a chance."
Jon smacked him on the forehead playfully.
"Don't mope around. C'mon, let's go play."
He grabbed Jack's hand, dragging him off the swing set, racing off across the grass. Jack followed, smiling a bit.
Good ol' Jonny, always there to lift him up when he was down.
Jon led him to the basketball court where a group of kids were throwing a ball around. They all turned to look, pausing in their game.
"Hey, Jonny!" one boy yelled. "Who's you friend?"
"This is Jack." Jon pushed his friend in front of him. "He's my best friend."
Another boy stepped up to Jack, holding out his hand.
"Hi, I'm Bobby. You want to play with us?"
Jack looked over at Jon and his friend nodded at him. He smiled back at the boy, shaking his hand.
"Sure. I've never really played basketball before."
Bobby grinned at him, tossing him the ball.
"It's easy. You have two teams. Just throw the ball around and try to make a hoop. You can be on Jonny's team." He raced back over to his group and the game started.
Jack threw the ball to another boy, watching as he passed it on to Jon. Bobby tried to block him as Jon jumped, throwing the ball at the hoop. The ball swished in, barely touching the net.
The game continued for a few minutes before a large red ball suddenly came flying out of nowhere, striking Jack hard in the face. He cried out, hitting the ground hard, holding his cheek, eyes watering from the sting.
"Jack!" Stars blinked in front of Jack's eyes as he looked up at them. The group had gathered around him, Jon pushing to the front. "You okay?
Jack blinked, rubbing his cheek and sitting up. He looked at Jon, then around.
"What hit me?" He spotted the red ball lying a few feet away, staring at it before looking over his shoulder.
Jon grabbed his friend by the arm, helping him to his feet, glaring over at the other side of the court. A big kid wearing a black shirt with a skull on it was pointing at them, laughing.
"Score! I got the freak!" A group of kids behind him was laughing as well.
"Hey, you jerk! Leave my friend alone!" Jon yelled at him, fists clenching. He took a step towards the group and they all made mocking "oohing" noises at him.
"What, you think I can't take you on?" the bully sneered, crossing his arms. "How can you be friends with that freak? Look at him! He can't even play a simple game of basketball!"
"Just because we don't play the same doesn't mean he can't play!" Jon yelled back again.
Jack rubbed his cheek, staying behind Jon. Bobby put his hand on his shoulder, glaring over at the big kid.
"Who cares? He's a freak!" the bully sneered, coming closer.
Jack cringed, backing up a little, biting his lip.
"Jon, just let him get over it. I'm fine, really."
His friend looked back at him, stunned. "I can't do that, Jacky. You're my best friend. You shouldn't have to deal with this kid." He turned back to the kid, glaring hard. "Leave him alone. He's just a kid, like all of us."
"He's not like us. Look at him. He's always carrying that stupid card deck around. And what's with the jokes? He stinks!" Loud laughter cut through the air as other kids turned to listen in, crowding in around them.
Jon moved in front of Jack again as the crowd closed in, forming a circle around them.
"His jokes are better that yours!" Jon screamed, furious.
"C'mon, Bucky. Don't take crap from this kid. Show him who's boss," someone whispered behind the big kid.
The bully, Bucky, glared at Jon hard, fists clenching. "You know what? I'm not going to. I think the freak needs a lesson in manners."
He charged for Jon, yelling and Jon raced for him as well. The two collided dead on, punching and kicking at each other. Bucky took Jon to the ground, pinning him down and giving his mouth a hard punch, splitting his lip.
Jon screamed, trying to push him off, finally driving his knee up between the bigger kid's legs. Bucky howled, rolling off him.
Jack watched, wide-eyed, not sure what to do. He couldn't just stand there and let his friend get hurt. But he didn't want to get beaten up as well.
A blur raced past him before he realized it was Bobby, another kid from Bucky's side racing in to cut him off.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!" the kids chanted, pumping their fists into the air and cheering.
Jack trembled, biting his lip, watching the fight. Where was the teacher? Where was help when you needed it?
The kid fighting with Bobby, slugged him hard across the jaw, knocking him down before turning on Jon and grabbing him. Bucky stood, driving his fist hard into Jon's gut as Jon screamed, the sound cutting through the air.
"Jonny!" Jack threw himself forward, tears falling as he jumped on the bully's back, hammering his fists on his head.
An arm caught him around the neck and threw him to the ground. Before he could even react, he felt powerful blows being dealt to his stomach and face, doubling over and crying out.
"JACKY!!" he heard Jon scream somewhere behind him. All Jack could see was a swarm of legs and arms, all straining to put a mark on him. Jon was lying on the ground behind the crowd, reaching out for his friend.
"Knock it off, break it up!" someone roared. The kids around Jack started to scatter, racing away to leave him lying on the ground. An adult pushed their way through the breaking crowd, hauling him to his feet.
Jack screamed in pain, holding his stomach and sinking to his knees. Arms threw themselves around him as he looked up, seeing Jon. Blood trickled down his split lip, his eyes wide in fear.
"Jacky, you okay? I couldn't stop them, they held me back."
"What's going on?" They both looked up at the playground advisor, Mrs. Weathers.
Jon tried to help his friend to his feet, being gentle with him. Jack doubled over again, throwing up, collapsing to his knees again, aching all over. Jon stayed by his side.
"A fight broke out. I think the bigger kid was trying to beat him up," an unfamiliar voice said.
Jack looked up, gasping for air, staring at the newcomer. A boy not much older than him stood by the teacher, eyes wide, watching Jack. He had pitch black hair, blue eyes, and wore a green shirt.
"Well, let's get you boys to the nurse's office," Mrs. Weathers said, helping Jon get Jack to his feet. She turned to the kid, looking over at the kids staying at the playground equipment. "Help him get his friend to the office. I'll deal with the others."
The kid came over to them as she marched away, grabbing Jack's other arm and helping Jon half-carry, half-drag Jack up to the school.
"What happened?" he asked, looking over at Jon.
"We were playing basketball and they wanted to beat Jack up," Jon replied, looking at his friend. He looked up at the new kid, an odd look on his face. "Why would a kid like you help us? I didn't think the teacher was going to see the fight before he got really hurt."
Jack only half listened, feeling dazed, hurting all over. He had a black eye, both his and Jon's lips were split, and his stomach protested with every movement.
"Because you guys were in trouble. I couldn't just stand there."
The boy helped Jon get Jack into the school, carrying him down the hall to the office. Before they could open the door, Jack felt his mind grow hazy and he blacked out.
I I I
Jack cried out, bolting upright, panting, sweat running down his body. He looked around, shivering, then covered his face with his hands, sighing.
It had all been a bad dream.
No, not dream... A memory.
He sighed, dropping his hands, feeling his heart race from the memory. Where had that come from? Sure, he dreamt of his memories every so often, but never that vividly.
"What's going on with me?" he mumbled, looking out the window. The sun was shining through, high in the sky. He'd probably slept till around noon again.
He rubbed his head,feeling a slight headache there. Maybe he could take a pill for it before it turned into a full-blown migraine.
Jack paused, eyes narrowing, a thought suddenly coming to him.
How did I meet Jon?
He sat quietly for a few minutes, trying to remember. He remembered Jon being there for him on the playground, while he was at work, but how did they meet...? He wracked hisbrain until it hurt, trying to remember.
Oh, God, no. One of my most treasured memories...and I can't remember it.
Can't remember? Or don't want to?
...I'm not sure.
Jack bit his lip, eyes watering. As much as Jon had hurt him to find out his friend was in Arkham, Jack honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to remember now.
But Jon was always there for me. He made sure I never got hurt.
But he hurt you badly. If he gets out of Arkham, he could do the same exact thing to you what he did those other people.
But he was there for me! All my life! Like Midnight.
And what happens if he breaks out of Arkham? Where do you think he's going to go? He's going to come here for YOU.
Shaking his head, Jack stood, going over to the mirror and staring at his reflection. Still, the white-skinned, green-haired clown glared back at him.
"What am I?" he asked his reflection. He stared long and hard at it for close to half an hour, deep in thought, trying to sort his mind out. Finally, he focused on his reflection again, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
"Who am I anymore?"
He paused,thinking back to the memory he'd dreamed of. If he couldn't remember how him and Jon had met, what else didn't he remember anymore? He stared at his reflection for another few seconds, then stormed out of the room, thumping down the stairs, thinking quickly.
If Jon managed to get out, Jack's house would probably be the first place he hit. He just couldn't take that risk.
Grabbing a travel bag from the closet, he roamed aroundhis house, searching for things to take with him.He couldn't take anything too big with him, only the most important stuff.
He snagged a small photo album, throwing it inside before running off into the living room. There, he picked up his photo of Midnight, pausing at the second one. It was one of him, Midnight and Jon playing together in the park. His hand hovered over the picture, undecided, then snatched it up, throwing it in. If not for Jon, it had Midnight in it. If he really wanted to, he'd just rip Jon out of the picture.
Half an hour later, his bag was full of photos, some food and soda, and a blanket. No use being uncomfy while he stayed and he wasn't sure what sort of food he'd find there.
Jack picked his bag up, slinging the strap over his shoulder, walking over to the door and opening it. He stopped, looking back inside solemnly. This would probably be the last time he'd ever see his house again. He took his keys out of his pocket, thinking over of the things he grabbed, not sure if there would be anything else he'd need.
Screw it, if anything, I'll find it in the warehouse.
He threw his keys into the living room, locking and slamming the door shut behind him. Standing on the doorstep, he stared out into the city, then promptly marched around back to the oak tree in the backyard.
Sorrow crept back into his heart as he stared at the mound of raised earth. This would be the last time he'd see Midnight as well. He bowed his head, standing there quietly for a few minutes, tears making their way down his cheeks. Then he turned without another look back, heading out onto the sidewalk and marching away from his house, ignoring everything going on around him.
I I I
Poor Jack. His life is in ruins, his dog taken away from him. It's no wonder he didn't go crazy before all this even happened. And if anyone can take a guess at what ideas came from me and my friend's rpg, you're welcome to take a guess.