Moonstruck Chapter 10 (technically 11):
Freedom

Finally! This chapter is done! This was the most painful, difficult chapter to write. Mainly because nothing really crazy happened and its more of a filler than plot. But don't let that keep you! I know you readers love the interactions between Bruce and Jack, so I added some more in here. Don't worry though, guys. The next chapter is super easy to write because a lot of stuff happens in it, but I won't spoil anything for you. Hope you guys like twists too (everything is pre-written from this point on!) So yes I will be back to updating on a regular basis instead of months and months away, my bad and a thousand apologies about that! But anyways, I love you readers and thanks so much for sticking with this story, I know it sucks to wonder what happens next and then you have to wait months later. Kind of like Lost, huh? So let's get on with the story!

Who do I own? Nobody.

And here...

we...

Go!

Four Weeks Later
Wayne Manor

After months of construction and over millions of dollars in restoration and filling out every room, the two towers were almost finished. The land around where the mansion sat only waited to turn green come spring, and once again Wayne Manor would be restored to its place. The black Maybach pulled around the gravel circle on the far side of the mansion, parking in its old designated area.

"Take a good look, Master Wayne." Alfred smiled as he exited the driver's side of the car, looking up to the very top of the mansion. "A lot has been done within the past year sir. Maybe we may move back in around this early summer?"

Excusing the new member to their trio out of the car first, Bruce smiled at the work. "Yeah, it's good to see this old place instead of that heap of rubble."

Jack's mouth hung open as he admired the place, taking note of every detail in the cobblestone and gates. "It's definitely bigger than what I saw in postcards…"

Bruce smirked, turning towards the man he had actually started bonding with. "Yeah, it's actually about a sixth bigger than the first. We wanted to add an east wing as well as expand the basement."

Jack scoffed, "Shows what you can do when you're a billionaire."

Bruce sent him a 'watch it' look.

"If I may interject sir…" Alfred said, coming in between the two. "You are the one being catered by one of the wealthiest men in the world, have some respect."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Thanks, Al."

The elder strode over to his young master, following him as they scanned the perimeter. Bruce Wayne smirked at their antics. "Alfred, don't worry. You two will get along… someday."

He shook his head, "It's not that sir. I worry about how you have managed to turn Gotham's favorite allies into the best of friends within a months time."

"Alfred, we're not best friends. We're not even really friends. We just…tolerate each other more now."

"Yes, but you mustn't forget who he is."

"I haven't, Alfred. I'm still being cautious."

After the first week, things became homier for Jack at his new residence despite the weekly check-ins by the Commissioner to make sure everything was alright, to Jack's dismay. The billionaire began to trust the young man, allowing him his own privacy and freedom around the house.

He had not been left alone since his first night in the penthouse, and being set free and able to join Bruce and Alfred on a small trip was surely refreshing. He took in deep breaths of the clear air, treating every single moment outside as if it were his last.

Bruce strode up to him, faking a smile. "So, what do you think?"

Jack shrugged. "It's nice, I admit. But…" He trailed off, staring into the dirt.

The billionaire searched for more, "But…?"

The blond shook his head, smiling a little. "I don't know, I was just hoping you guys would actually let me out more."

Bruce sighed, "You know why we can't do that…"

Jack scoffed, "No, I actually don't Bruce. You try waking up in a hospital with people accusing you of murder and treating you like a piece of shit that doesn't even deserve the own freedom to go outside." The short argument was ended as he limped away, heading back to the car.

"Jack…" He frowned, attempting to chase after him. "Jack!"

He sighed in frustration; every argument ended the same way. It had always ended about freedom, not getting to go outside, see the city, do anything besides sitting in his given room and watching TV all day. Jack would always throw a fit and run off like a child, leaving Bruce to clean up the usual mess he caused in the house.

Four weeks have been hell for the both of us.

You try being the very hero Gotham once had and retiring to take care of your sorry, ungrateful ass. If it weren't for me you would be locked up in Gordon's cage.

Alfred placed a hand on his young master's shoulder, "Sir, I know it is difficult containing such a strong willed man in such a small place as the Penthouse. But, he seems to want even bigger things."

Of course he wants bigger things. We have made him stay in the same exact place for a month, why would e not want to leave and explore the outside world? What could be so wrong?

Oh, right. He's the Joker, Bruce. There is no doubt about those scars…

What does the most dangerous man in the entire north east think of?

Freedom.

Bruce nodded, admitting they had to let him out sooner or later. "I know, and that's what I'm afraid of."

He limped himself back into his room, wincing as the pain in his leg increased from the slow healing process. He hopped over to the side of his bed, throwing himself onto the mattress and burying his face into the pillows.

Jack held his head as it began to throb beyond his control. Teeth clenched together, he groaned to himself. I'm so fucking tired of all this bullshit they put up on me…

Do they ever get bored of tormenting the same person?

What am I going to do outside this place, burn down buildings and rob banks?

Sighing as he held his head, Jack rustled through the bed-stand's drawers attempting to locate the orange bottle of medication prescribed for the pain.

He scrambles until he finds the bottle, quickly unscrewing the safety cap and dumping one white tablet onto his tongue.

Knock, knock, knock.

He shoots a glare towards the wooden door that he knows will open within the next few seconds. The billionaire peeked in.

"Hey."

Jack stared at him, obviously not wanting to even lay eyes on the man. "Hi." He says coldly, chewing hard on the sour tablet.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

Expression unchanging he shrugged and rolled his eyes, "Yes. But as I can already tell and know that this has happened before you're just going to ignore me and sit on that fucking chair giving me another lecture."

Bruce faked a small smile, "You're on the dot."

Jack gave him an annoyed smirk before tossing the bottle of medication back into the drawer. As he predicted, Bruce strode in without the permission, taking his seat in the old lounge chair. "What are those?"

Jack sighed, "Not that it's any of your fuckin' business but the meds gave em' to me before I went with you. Said it might help with the pain and migraines."

Bruce tilted his head as he thought to himself. I don't remember them writing a prescription for you.

Oh well.

"A-anyways… I wanted to talk about earlier…"

"What's to talk about? It's always the same answer. Don't go out, Jack. We can't let you out, Jack. Jack, you know why we can't let you into the city." He whined in a high pitched voice, attempting to sound like Bruce Wayne.

Bruce scoffed, "Do I really sound like that?"

Jack picked at the fibers in the old sheets upon his bed, trying his best to block the man out from his mind. During the usual lectures he would start playing out scenes from his favorite movies or pinching Bruce's head between his forefingers, only catching the last lines of the conversation.

"I wanted to tell you about…"

Blah, blah, fucking blah. What is it today? Alfred forget to change his tampon, Gotham is too much of a danger for me, I'm not someone's 8 year old kid. I know how to look both ways when crossing the street. 'Remember to wash behind your ears!' Jesus.

If I wanted to hear that same stuff again I would live at some in-laws.

Do I even have in-laws? Was I married?

Oh there he goes again, still ranting.

If you ever had anything interesting to say I might listen.

I was always a good listener.

It's just that your stories suck.

Just like how Jim-Bob sucks his own…

"…And after I return we'll let you have a day off."

Snapping back into reality, Jack could only focus on those two last words. "Day off…?"

"You weren't listening to a thing I said?"

"No—what do you mean day off?"

Bruce shook his head as he got out of his lounge chair, "You would know what I was talking about if you actually paid attention for once."

"No! Tell me!"

Bruce shrugged it off as he came to the door he had entered moments before, "Oh, nothing. Just saying if you were patient for another few days I'll let you out."

Jack jumped up, "Out of…" He bit his lip, not wanting to anticipate something that could possibly let him down. God bless Bruce Wayne's soul if he were lying. "Here…?"

He smiled, "Well, not for good. But you haven't given us any reason not to trust you yet. I think we owe it to you."

Jack stood speechless as the words ran through his mind. Go outside? See the city? Get the fuck out of this room? No rules outside of this place, you told me.

And I'll fucking kill you, Bruce, if you're making this shit up…

"You're serious…?"

"Of course."

They stared at each other for a moment, sharing the same innocence behind the dark past. Behind the cowl and cape, the Batman was a trapped man hiding from the city he had once protected, and was now the same as the hunted man within inches of him. He could only give a small smile and dug a small package out from his jacket.

"Oh, here." He tossed it to Jack. "You might need this if you want to go outside."

That sealed the deal as he shut the door behind him, leaving Jack to celebrate on his own.

He ran his hands through his brown locks, sighing deeply as he realized the huge mistake he might have just made. A day in Gotham with it's most feared man. This is going to be fun.

Inside the room, Jack stared down at the white wrapping paper around an awkward, light object in his hands. He sat himself on the bed, tearing at the ends of the paper as he held his breath. Peeling the last bit of paper off of the object, he stared down into the plastic sealed contents.

He choked out a little, letting himself smile for the first time.

His fingertips traced the scars on the side of his face as he stared down at the makeup kit and silicone molds.

Attached to the bottom of the package was a note written in black ink.

I figured you we're pretty handy with makeup

Hopefully this will prove to be better than a silly bandana.

-Bruce

"Jim, honey, it's time for bed!"

"I'll be there in a minute."

"But, Jim, you've been in there for hours!"

The exhausted commissioner sighed in frustration as his attempts at work had failed for the rest of the night. With his worried wife lurking over his shoulder the whole night, he had not finished a thing or even begun to find anything regarding the so called Jack Napier in his city.

"Just a minute, dear."

He rubbed his eyes, staring back into the computer screen that did not want to comply with anything. Glaring at the name in his search engine, he muttered to himself.

"How has nobody even heard of you, yet here you are 'Napier…'"

Tossing his cell phone to his desk, he gave up for the night after making numerous calls to all of the Jack Napiers' in the world. It seemed as if the man had never existed and simply appeared out of thin air. Social security did not exist under his name, there were no files, dental, even a certificate of birth.

How could this be? Despite the driver's liscence in the GPD's files, he has absolutely nothing. Who Is this man?

He bites his lip, snatching up his cell phone once more, speed dialing the department.

"Hey, Claus? I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need your help. I need you to find any DNA matches of Jack Napier in the Gotham, Chicago areas."

"…Sir…?"

"I need you to do this for me, Claus. I'm counting on you."

He ends the call once he is assured that his orders would go through.

"Jim!"

He sighs heavily, burying his face in his palms, dragging the sleep away from his heavy eyelids. He gives into the commands. He stands, saving progress and favoriting the websites as to not forget the tracing of Jack Napier.

He looks back into the un-scarred, soft face of the young man.

"Who are you, Jack Napier?"

END! Of this chapter. Don't worry, stuff happens the next chapter. I just didn't want to rush anything because hey, rushing things is crazy and doesnt give you enough time to love, or experience what the characters are going through. (But maybe 2 months of waiting for the next chapter has.) Expect the next one very soon, dont worry!

RR