I woke up the next morning as the sun shone through the gaps in the blinds, I tried rolling over but I nearly rolled off the bed entirely. I sighed in defeat and threw the covers off in an effort to make myself get up. But I just stared at the ceiling, not really thinking of anything, just staring. I knew once I got up I would have to deal with the reality of everything, but maybe if I stayed here just staring the world would pass me by unnoticed.

But as I stared I could hear steps outside my door, and as a figure passed by the window an envelope suddenly slid under the door.
That's weird I thought. Maybe it was the manager delivering a note, but why not just knock and talk to me? Well whatever. Resigning myself to the fate that the world was sending me a message demanding I move, I got up out of bed slowly. I went to the door and opened it just a crack but the person had already left.

Weirder. I shut the door and locked it suddenly feeling a little paranoid. I picked up the envelope and turned it over in my hands. No name, no stamp, nothing. It wasn't even sealed. Puzzled I took out the contents and it was a card.

It read 'Deepest sympathies for your loss.' With a daisy, huh my favourite flower. But deepest sympathy? I looked in the card but again blank. What the hell was this? A blank card slid under my door?

Did someone know I was back in Gotham, figured they would send me a card about my dad? Anyone who knew me knew of the story that made me leave Gotham in the first place, wouldn't they know how much I hated that man? I tossed the card in the trash trying to figure out who would send it to me in the first place.

Let's not get too crazy Rory. Well start off with the people who knew I was back in Gotham. The motel manager, well he could have seen me in my car and I was in black. Maybe he put two and two together, figured he would try and be nice? But then why blank? Or maybe it was the church, but I didn't leave an address there, just that I was attending the funeral and I was the only attendee. This was all a little bizarre. Not a great welcome home, but then again neither was finding the one person I wanted to see 6 feet under. I shook off the thoughts, best way to find out is just to ask and I was heading out anyway. I quickly changed my clothes and again looked at the card in the trash bin, at least it was a daisy.

As I left my room I locked the door and feeling a little paranoid checked the lock again, it was shut alright. I made my way down to the front desk figuring I would straight up ask the manager, he didn't look like the type to do something thoughtful but maybe I was wrong. I dinged the bell on the front desk and the manager poked his head out from the back of a room off the reception. His eyes looked hopeful but when I smiled at him he immediately said "No refunds." And then returned to his room apparently done with me.

"No I didn't want a refund." I said and I could hear a sigh from the room. He came out looking weary and very annoyed.
"Look doll face, no refunds, no new sheets and any rats you find just hit them with a stick they'll leave soon enough just don't touch them." He said looking me up and down. Feeling a little disgusted not only with how he was looking at me, but with what he said.

"Not any of that either, even though I'm more than a little disturbed. How many rats have been reported here?" I asked but then thought better of it. "Actually I don't want to know, I was just wondering did you post an envelope under my door or maybe seen who did?" With this he looked very nervous.
"What was in the envelope?" He asked a sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"It was just a sympathy card." As soon as I did he looked even more nervous.

"Oh Christ mickey is gonna kill me, I told him he would get his money. Oh Christ." I could see he was beginning to panic so I tried to calm him.
"I'm pretty sure it was meant for me. I was at my father's funeral yesterday. I just wanted to know if you were the one who gave it to me." I said and as soon as I did his look of panic turned to anger.
"Why the hell would you, I was, I thought I was gonna be murdered! Christ, I could sue you for undue stress ya know!" He shouted coming right up to the front desk and trying to stare me down. I'm sure it would have been more threatening if not for the 6 inches of height I had over him.

"I could sue you for having rats. I'm sure Gotham's safety inspector would love to come have a look, and when he shuts your crappy motel down, how are you going to pay this, mickey? Don't try and scare me shorty." I said faking more confidence than I had, I didn't even know if Gotham had a safety inspector, I doubt it but it was the first thing I could think of.
"Yeah whatever, just get lost will ya? I want you out by the end of today." He said as he went to walk away.
"I have a week left shorty, I'll be staying what I paid for. Unless you want to refund me?"
"Have it your way." He said slamming the door closed and apparently not coming back out.

I huffed and left making a beeline for my car. What an asshole. So definitely not one who left the card. That leaves the church, and I was heading that way anyway to see Jacks grave, which felt like such a strange thing to say. I tried not to think about it too much, I drove to the church stopping on the way to get some washing up liquid, some sponges and a big bottle of water.

As I pulled in to the church and went into the graveyard it was empty, that was nice, I felt oddly awkward doing this. I walked past my dad's grave trying not to look at it and headed straight for Jack. I found the simple headstone and just knelt there for a while. I couldn't stop reading "Jack Napier 1980-2000." He was only 20 years old, how does someone die at 20? His life should have been just starting, and it's been 6 years since.

What was I doing at 20? Finishing college and caring for my mum as she began to deteriorate. As I began to lose my mum, I had already lost Jack. I could have screamed right there, so mad I didn't know and even angrier that I didn't get to say goodbye.

I felt like tears were about to start again but I didn't want to cry, not here so I began cleaning instead. Squirting the washing liquid onto wet sponges and scrubbing the stone in front of me. I scrubbed until it shined, looking like new again. I finally poured water over it again, letting all the bubbles flow onto the grass and sinking in. I felt a little better knowing his resting place was clean, although it didn't really change anything. He was still gone.
"I'll come see you again tomorrow Jack. I miss you." I said, I knew he couldn't hear me, not really but it did make me feel a little better. As I got back into the car I remembered mine and Jacks old hideaway.

I bet I could find it again, sure it was in the woods but it wasn't that far away. I actually felt excited to see what had happened there, it held so many happy memories of Jack, and it might make me feel a bit better. I wasn't sure how to get there apart from the way Jack always took me, so I drove back to same spot he took me from. And that was from the corner of the street I used to live. I hadn't been back here in years, I hadn't been allowed, but here was where it all happened, but I didn't want to think about that time. I parked the car on the corner and set off for the wood leaving my old street behind me where it belonged.

It was still morning about 11a.m so I shouldn't run into anyone, except maybe some dog walkers but I doubt it. Gotham wasn't a friendly place, would more likely run into someone hiding a body out here than a friendly chap walking his dog. I hope I don't run into either though. Isn't it weird that dog walkers and joggers always find the bodies? Food for thought.
I knew the trail Jack lead me through by heart from here, we had walked it so many times I could probably close my eyes and walk there.

But it was so strange walking the trail all these years later, I felt more like a ghost. Hoping to see Jack haunting all the old places that remained in my heart. It also felt wrong to be walking there without Jack in front of me, holding my hand, leading the way as if I needed him to still guide me. Like he was the only one who could find our hideaway, a gateway only he held the key for. That's one of the reasons I loved Jack so dearly, he made everything feel like a grand adventure, but I knew I was safe with him, he would always protect me from all dangers, imagined and real… He had proved that.

Before I knew it, I was at the old hideaway. It looked so much smaller now I was grown, before it looked impossibly high as if I could touch clouds, now I could see it couldn't be more than 10 feet off the ground. I was impressed it was still there, the old wood still making a small home. I couldn't help but want to see it inside again, maybe the wood planks had rotted, maybe I would fall through but I didn't care I needed to see it. I climbed the small ladder that led to the little square house. It was surprisingly solid getting up, I wasn't sure the wood would hold a grown woman but apparently Jack was a better builder than I thought.

As I hoisted myself up the last bit I can remember how Jack would hold my hands and simply lift me, as if I weighed nothing at all. Would have been funny to try and see him do that now, we would both fall. I smiled as I thought about it, the last time we were here was the night I left. But we couldn't have known it was going to happen, we thought we had all the time in the world. I got up into the little tree house, it hadn't changed since I had been here last. It felt empty though without Jack here, he was missing and I felt that.

The walls were barer than I remembered them. But then the box in the corner caught my eye, I scooted over to it and opened it with the small key lying nearby. The box held all the times we had been here and all the memories came rushing back to me.
Some polaroid's from the camera Jack had 'found' which really meant he had stolen it, from who I had no idea, I only cared about making memories with him.

We had taken pictures with each other and then pinned them up on the wall and my heart hurt a little looking at them all. Locked away in a box all these years, safe. One was of me smiling and Jack looked confused trying to figure out where the camera button was and then the flash scared the crap out of him. I smiled remembering how he nearly dropped it after that, cursing at it. Another was of us both smiling, Jack had told me to say cheese before he took the shot so I shouted Swiss!
Which made him roll about laughing afterwards, seeing Jack laugh would always make me happy. Sometimes he smiled and there was this sadness behind it, but in rare moments he would laugh and it would light up his face, I loved those times.

Another I had sneaked a kiss on his cheek and you could see how embarrassed he was, after that he put the camera down and rubbed his cheek. "What did you do that for stupid?" He had asked me. "Oh, come on Jack, don't be like that. Come on we can take another picture. Please?" He had let me take another few of us making faces at the camera and then he had kissed my check. I felt my cheeks go red and he had said see how you like it. But I remember then we were just looking into each other eyes and we kissed again. I felt my lips tingle just remembering it, it was so sweet neither of us knew what to do after like a couple of embarrassed kids we laughed and acted awkward about it. I laughed remembering it. We were a weird odd little pairing.

I smiled looking at the rest of the pictures of odd things we did together, me reading a book, Jack climbing the trees above beating his chest like Tarzan that had made laugh to no end, especially when he nearly fell trying to act all tough. There was one that I had almost forgotten about, I could remember the moment though clear as day seeing the picture. It was getting dark out, our foreheads were resting against each other, and that was the first time Jack had told me that he loved me. He had whispered it so quietly I didn't know if he had said it or I had imagined it. But I said back 'I love you too Jack.' And I could feel him smiling which always made me smile back.

I looked on the back of the picture and I could see in my handwriting 'first time Jack and I said I love you.' Jack had asked why I wrote that on the back and I said so we'll know the moment it happened. He had rolled his eyes at that but stuck it on the wall still. There was other things in the box, some old ticket stubs, too worn now to even see the movie name. An old paper Jack and I had written and got an A on, the bright red pen still there proclaiming an A-, I think the minus was due to Jack nearly starting a fight with some kid in the class who whispered when we presented our project. Jack had always had a short temper, it just got shorter and shorter until little things would set him off. Even things I did would sometimes make him mad, but he was never violent, not with me anyway. He would just walk off until he calmed down, come back and hug me, grumble an apology and then forget it ever happened.

I didn't mind I knew I could annoy him I was surprised he put up with me for as long as he did. There were some drawings Jack had done and I had stolen, sometimes ripped straight out of his notebook. One of me fighting with our English teacher with a poem next to it, one of an old bully as a pig, a drawing of us both together, a beautifully drawn picture of me. Jack hated it and always tried to get me to take it down, but I loved it. There was also pictures of the last night we had spent here. 16 years old and hopelessly in love with each other. I sighed as I remembered. Seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Our hideaway, the one place no one would find us. Now it didn't feel like the impenetrable fortress it had been, it just felt like an old forgotten tree house in a wood. Abandoned and lonely. I took the box, wanting to keep the old memories with me no matter where I went. Maybe some other kids will find the treehouse. Make it their own little hideout. Mine and Jacks time up there was long gone. But it was nice to remember the good times with him, all our secret memories. I think I'll get a frame for some of the pictures. I hadn't any when we left. We just had to abandon everything, including Jack.

I descended from the hideaway, giving it one last look before I went. I'm not sure if I'll come back, I want to preserve it in my memory and not let anything else ruin it. If I came back some other kids might be using it, maybe it would be blown apart from the strong winds, who knows? I'd rather keep it how it is, with fond memories.

When I was halfway back through the trail though I could have sworn I was being watched, I had turned around looking in all directions but nothing caught my eye. I had even tried to walk and suddenly stop to see if I heard any extra footsteps but nothing. I was alone here, probably being paranoid, again. I used to take medication for my anxiety and paranoia, it was the constant fear of being found by my dad again, and it never really left me. And even though he was dead and buried, I still felt like someone was following me, it might take a while before I feel safe in Gotham but it would happen, eventually.

Once I was out of the woods I hoped in my car and turned the heating on full blast, looking at the clock I had been out for about three hours and I was frozen to the bone. I should have really taken a hat or a scarf, now I was really feeling the cold. I held my hands up to the radiator to warm my fingertips, they felt like they were burning they were so cold. I didn't know what do with myself now though, it was about two according to my car clock, maybe I should head somewhere get some lunch and then make a plan of action.

If I was going to stay in Gotham I'll have to get a job or something, I'm pretty sure that asshole motel owner if going to kick me out by next week so I need somewhere else to crash. I started the car and drove off, deciding the first place I come across that looks decent I'll stop and treat myself to a hot lunch maybe even go crazy and have a desert. It didn't take long to find somewhere though, five minutes later and I found a row of nice little cafes. Gotham may have it share of crappy places but it has it has its little diamonds too. I picked one that wasn't too busy and ordered a burger and fries with a coffee. The best thing was the coffee kept being refilled as a waitress passed me. I had pulled out a notepad and pen from my bag and began writing a plan down.

1. Find a job.
2. Get a place. *No cockroaches, rats, suspicious mould or be a scene of a crime.
3. Buy some actual furniture.
4. Survive.

That looked like a good enough list for the time being. The sad thing is it took me 10 minutes to make it, and it was only four things. I decided I would get a start on it tomorrow, buy a paper and look through some ads, failing that just go pester some places asking if they're hiring. People have said in the past I can be charming, we'll just have to put it to the test, see if I can charm myself into a half decent job.

I checked the clock on the wall and it was about 4 I didn't realise I had been here so long, guess I'll head back to the motel and search my room for rats. Fun. I ordered another burger and fries to take with me and headed for my car, maybe I can bait the rats out with fries catch the little buggers and evict them. Maybe box them up and leave them for the rat master himself in reception. That would teach him, attach a note saying love from mickey.

That would be hilarious, cruel also but mostly hilarious. I chuckled to myself as the evil plan formulated in my head, no way would I actually do it… But doesn't mean I can't entertain the idea in the privacy of my own imagination. He was an ass before, give him a small heart attack maybe he'll be kinder. As I was driving back I kept thinking about that card, I should have stopped inside the church and ask them about it but I can always go back. Plant some flowers next to Jacks grave…

Am I becoming a little bit obsessed? Is it weird to keep visiting the grave of your first love who you haven't seen in about 10 or 11 years? What if his family visited, which would be strange since I had only ever met his mum and dad, neither were very happy experiences. But maybe he had a wife, maybe she would visit while I was there. That would be awkward. Maybe I shouldn't go back. But surely there would be more written there if any family were around to actually care? Dearest son, beloved husband, well liked cousin? I put it out of my mind, if someone was there then it might be nice to reminisce with someone who knew Jack. Even if he had moved on… But in the back of my head, in a purely selfish place, I hoped he hadn't. Was that terrible? Maybe.

I headed out and back to the motel. I made sure when I returned to avoid reception all together, I did not want another encounter like this morning that was all kinds of drama I wanted no further part of. I had enough going on right now. I got up to my room and as I pulled the key out of my bag, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. I know I locked the door, I had checked it. In panic mode I burst into the room, and instantly dove under the bed bringing out my suitcase, I ripped open the secret pocket and checked, thank god, my money stash was still in there. I sent up a small prayer, even though I agnostic, thanking whoever and whatever.

After I calmed down a little my sense began coming back to me and I froze, what if they're still in here? I zipped up my money and placed the suitcase back under the bed as quietly as I could, I checked under the bed and nothing there. I began creeping through the room, checking behind and in anything a human could inhibit, if anyone is in here they are getting a lamp to the forehead. Hopefully it'll be enough because I'm lacking in weapons options, I should really buy myself a gun or at least some kind of blunt object that hurts when flailed around, like a baseball bat or something.

I checked everywhere but there was no-one, nothing was taken, nothing was touched. But that's when I noticed it propped up on my bed. The card from this morning. It was no longer in the envelope but it was out of the trash and on the bed. Was this some sick joke from the manager? Get me back for scaring him so he scares me back? Asshole has a key it must have been him. I picked the card up ready to march down and give him a swift boot up the ass but then I noticed it had writing in it now.

At first I didn't want to read what it said, but curiosity killed the cat and got the better of me. I looked inside and it said 'Jack misses you too.'
I dropped the card to the ground, what the hell was that? How could he have known I visited Jack, I never said a word about it or even that I was going there. Then I remembered, I had said at the grave today that I missed Jack. Was someone following me? Listening to me? What the hell is going on?!
I grabbed the card off the ground, angry and upset someone would do this to me I ripped the card up and threw it in the trash again, good luck now, you sick fucks. Someone HAD been in my room and they had done that.

Obviously they weren't interested in taking anything or my suitcase would be gone, they just wanted to scare me. And I don't even know who they are, I don't know who sent the card in the first place. I'm only getting more questions instead of answers. Should I even stay here anymore, is it safe? Then I remembered my lockbox. The Polaroid's of me and Jack, I took them out quickly, I wanted to see Jacks face right now.

Instantly when I took them out I smiled at him, even though he is gone he still makes me smile. I flipped through them again, laughing at the faces we pulled and remembering how happy it was. Somewhere in the laughing I began crying, then laughing again then crying. I was a mess right now. I didn't know whether to be happy remembering Jack or sad that he was gone. I just missed him so much. I just wanted him to be next to me, he would be able to calm me down and make everything ok again, he always could and I need that now. I just wish I could have that again. I once again went to sleep crying, not sure if I even wanted to wake up tomorrow…

When I woke up the next morning I shot out of bed, I could see it was only 7a.m but I didn't care I was going to see Jack. It's the only thing I can think of to do, I grabbed the burger I had ordered yesterday and decided it would do for breakfast, leave the fries for the rats. I didn't want to spend the day sitting in that motel worried someone was going to come back again and drop off another card. I wanted to see Jack and if I can't well then, I'll just go talk at him, that was how it was when he was here anyway, he just listened and occasionally nodded. I practically speeded through Gotham with only talking to Jack on my mind, I might get a few speeding tickets but they didn't know where I lived, it was fine. I got to the church in record time and I practically jumped out of my car only remembering to lock it when I was nearly out of distance but I heard the beep beep.

I jogged to the grave and reaching it I instantly dropped to my knees, suddenly exhausted. I didn't even care that the grass was still wet with dew. I took a few deep breaths, calmed my heart rate down.
"I wish you were here with me Jack." I placed my hands flat on the grass as if I could feel him.

"And I'm so angry that you're not. I hate that I wasn't here for you, that by the time I came back for you, you were already long gone. I loved you with all my heart Jack, I really did. I hope you knew that, I hope you know that I still do, I probably always will. I went to our hideout in the woods, the one you showed me a lifetime ago. It was a little less magical then I remember but that's because you weren't there, it was your place after all and you're gone. But I went inside it, didn't fall through the wood. I found a load of old Polaroid's from that camera you "found", and they are adorable, I have them with me, thought it best to take them, have something to remember you by. To remember us by." I finally took a breath and got into a more comfortable sitting position. Pushing back the tears I carried on.

"God Jack, I miss you so much. I would give anything to have you here with me. Even ten-year-old you that hated me at first." I laughed at the memory. "You did not want to be my friend, but you relented in the end, I wore you down. Then we were friends, then we were more than friends, an odd kind of couple and then… And then I had to go. I didn't want to leave you, I tried running away 14 times in the first three weeks. I never got very far before I was escorted back, but I wrote to you. I don't know how many letters I sent but you never replied. I honestly thought I would come back and we would just pick up where we left off. Guess it was kind of silly to think like that but it kept me going. Especially even after my mom died, she did get clean though. Only took her 16 years but she did it in the end, she died about 5 years ago. A year after you. I don't even know how you died Jack, what happened after I left? You should be here to tell me." I was beginning to get angry with him, angry with a ghost.

"We had plans Jack, I might be late to them but at least I showed up." The tears fell then, I wasn't angry at Jack, not really. I was angry at myself. That I left coming back here so long. I wasn't allowed to, but maybe I should have tried more. At 18 I was old enough to make my own decisions but I was caring for my mum, trying to keep her with me. And then just trying to make her comfortable.

I stayed by the grave, just thinking. Feeling every emotion all at once, and at the same time nothing at all. There was a cough behind me and I whipped my head around at the sound.
The same grave digger from a couple of days ago stood behind me. He smiled at me and I got to my feet.

"I think you're at the wrong grave doll." He said, his voice solemn eyes drifting down the row of graves. But I shook my head.
"No. I knew Jack in school." I turned back to the stone. "We were old friends. We hadn't talked for a long time." I said sadly.
"That's a darn shame that is." He said. "He could have used a nice friend like you."
"You knew Jack?" I asked surprised.

"Knew of him." He said, which confused me. Knew of Jack? What did that mean? I was about to ask but someone shouted Ed, his name I assumed.
"I have to go, duty calls. I'm sorry about your friend."
"Ed!" I called before he walked away. "Sorry just quickly, does the church send sympathy cards to mourning families?" I asked and Ed looked at me confused.
"No, unless they are part of the congregation, but even then." He shook his head.
"Ok, thank you." I smiled at him and he walked away and I stared at his back as he left. Still confused. Why do I never get answers, just more and more questions.

I turned around to the grave.
"What were you doing while I was gone Jack?" It began to rain so I flipped up my hood and headed to the car. I sat in the car, thinking over what Ed had said. 'Knew of him.' What kind of trouble was Jack getting into? Did it really matter now?
Jack wasn't coming back. I would never see him again. Did I really need to know every detail of his life after I had left? I shook my head and started the car. Let sleeping dogs lie Rory. Don't go kicking up dust on things long since done. We had our own problems in the present anyway, if the motel manager and the church didn't send the card. Then who the hell did?

When I got back to the hotel that night I didn't even bother turning on the lights, I just crawled straight into bed and cried. I don't know how long I cried for, somewhere in between the sobbing I managed to at least get some sleep.

But if Rory had turned on the lights she would have noticed the card ripped up from earlier cello-tapped together again and another sentence for her to read. She would have seen the figure of a man in the corner who watched her cry and slipped out when she fell asleep. But not before he stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead… "Goodnight Ror."