I didn't sleep well. I don't know whether it was the yelling on the streets outside the building, the uncomfortable bed I had made myself on the floor, or the fact Jack wasn't dead but was a mass murdering psychopath who dressed like a clown and fights a giant vigilante bat…
Really can't put my finger on it.
I sat up and rubbed my back, I know I've slept in my fair share of uncomfortable hotel's, but they at least had a mattress. Most of the time. Sighing I took the blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders, why did it have to be so god damn cold? I was looking around the room for the source of the draft when the door opened, and Jack came sauntering in.

"Sleep well?" He asked walking over to the table. He was holding a small plastic bag which he placed on the table. He was in a remarkably better mood.
"It was fine." I lied as I watched him.
"Good." He removed two sandwiches and a bottle of water from the bag which he then scrunched up and threw over his shoulder. "Thought you might be hungry." He gestured to the chair next to him as he sat down. "Come. Sit. Eat."
I wanted to stay where I was but I walked over, my stomach leading my legs. I really was hungry. I sat down carefully and cautiously took one of the sandwiches. It was in a pack like you get in gas stations. I held it in my hands for a couple of seconds. Wondering if it was poisoned.
"Come on its peanut butter and jelly, you're favourite." He said watching me turn it over in my hands. I opened the pack, and took a small bite. He smiled when I did and relaxed in his chair watching me eat. I really was starving, and I soon finished it and even ate the other sandwich he had brought me. I was drinking the water, but he had sat in silence watching me eat, hadn't said a word and I began to fidget, hating the silence. I decided I might as well talk if he wasn't going to.
"Thank you, for the food." I said as I sat back in my chair, he nodded and smiled. Silent again. I put the bottle of water back down and unsure of how he would react decided to ask him questions I still had.

"The bomb. Was it you?" I asked, an image of Gordon flashed in my mind, squeezing my heart. I waited for Jack to storm out again or do something. But he didn't, he didn't even comment on the quick change of topic.
"How could it have been me?" He said innocently. "I was with you. Remember?"
I bristled, yeah, I remember a needle being stuck in my neck. How could I forget?
"I remember." I answered, leaving out what I really wanted to say. He rested one of his feet on his knee, looking relaxed for someone who had just been accused of blowing up a hundred or so people.
"Was it one of your men?" I persisted.
"How would I know?" He shrugged. "I'm not their keeper."
"Was it on your orders?" I guessed the wording was important for some reason, and he gave me thumbs up.
"She got it. I did tell them to make an impression, but they went a bit overboard with the C4." He cackled as I shook my head at him. Trying hard to see my Jack.
"All that, why? To kill me?" I asked in disbelief.
Suddenly the laughing stopped, and he looked right into my eyes. "If I wanted you dead Rory, you wouldn't be sitting here." I couldn't look away as he kept his eyes locked on me. "I knew you weren't there. I was removing the option of running away from you." He relaxed again, and I could finally look away.
How did he know I was planning to run that day? Was I running around with 'flight risk' tattooed on me? I hardly even knew what I was doing.

My mind went back to hotel and then to the man in the stairwell. His message for me.
'He knew you would come, he knew every move you would make.'
"The man at the hotel, the one with a message? That you too?" The image was still in my head, his dead crumpled body and that terrifying smile on his face would be haunting my nightmares for a while. Jack, the Joker, was inspecting his nails even though his entire hand was covered in dirt and greasepaint.
"Ah so you met Gary. Yeah, I sent him. Isn't he just a scream?" He smirked to himself, but I wasn't in the mood for smiles.
"Did you also to tell him to shoot himself in his temple right in front of me?" The blood on the wall flashing in my head.
"Yeah. He had run out of his use. Was starting to go a little loopy." With his finger he drew circles around one side of his head crossing his eyes.
"So, you sent him to me, armed with a gun?" I sat forward in my chair, not appreciating the fact Jack wasn't taking this seriously. "He could have killed me."
"But he didn't." Jack shrugged his shoulders.
"But he could have." I tried to get him to look at me, but he was staring at his hand. "Jack."
"Don't call me that." His voice was cold now.
"Why not? It's your name." I asked confused.
"Jacks dead." His eyes snapped to mine. "And he isn't coming back."
I looked away and sighed. It was hard seeing Jack act this way. I didn't know where my old Jack was, but he had to be in there somewhere. He had to be. People don't just disappear. But then a thought hit me. That's exactly what I had done, all those years ago, I had disappeared.

"We all change Rory." He said, seemingly reading the guilt on my face.
"I've known you since we were kids, where is that Jack?" My voice slightly cracking as I remembered the kids we once were.
"I've told you. He's dead." His voice didn't give away any emotion, just like his face.
"No, he isn't, he can't be. Bring that Jack back to me." I felt tears beginning to burn my eyes and I hugged the blanket closer to me.
"Can't bring back the dead Rory. Oh sorry. Is it Anna now?" I brushed at my eyes, mad at the tears that threatened to break through.
"Don't, Jack." I began my heart aching.
"Is Rory even your real name?" His feet swung up onto the table as he watched me.
"You know it is." I stood up from my chair, tired of this conversation, only I had nowhere to run to.
"How am I supposed to know? You're so good at lying and disappearing." I heard his chair scrape from under him, I turned but he was already going to the door.
"Jack, don't leave me in here. Jack!" I tried to shout but he had already closed the door. I was too tired to scream and shout. I just sighed and sat back down, cradling my head in my hands, tears in my eyes.

"I don't know what was worse Jack. Finding you dead, or finding you like this." I let the tears fall. It was too much for me to take in. Jack had stalked me, terrorised me, drugged me, kidnapped me and locked me up in some run down, abandoned building. He was a stranger to me now, this Joker had completely taken over my Jack. Jack would never have done any of this to me. I didn't know if my Jack was even still in there, I don't know how to get him back to me.

I spent the rest of the morning inspecting my room for the foreseeable future. It was like an old apartment; the wallpaper was brown and peeling from the walls and looked like it would have been fashionable in the 70s. But that was a very strange time, everyone was high and it was all free love, all the hippy stuff.
The floors carpet was worn down until it was as hard as concrete, even lifting in the edges of the room. I toyed with the idea of ripping it up for something to do but I didn't want to know what was under it. Better to live in ignorance I think. The walls were flaking away in some places, damp spreading out from corners over the walls and ceilings. I could smell it as well, along with some other unidentifiable smells, which I had no desire to try and figure out. The window was boarded up and I couldn't see anything of use through it. I thought about screaming but if we were in the narrows which I would bet we were. It would get lost in the other cries for help. This part of town you have to look out for number one, if anyone could hear me, they would ignore it. Safer for them that way. No one wants to be a rat.

I was opening drawers and cupboards looking for something, anything but they were all bare and empty. I did find a bathroom, but it looked questionable and I decided to avoid it until needs forced me. I was pacing the room, just trying to pass the time, not knowing if Jack would come back or not. Did I even want him to? I didn't know the answer myself. I didn't know which Jack would walk through the door.
I went over to my case, intending to change my clothes but a box caught my eye. Intrigued I dug it out and opened it up. It was the taser Gordon gave me. Thinking of him made tears spring to my eyes, but I couldn't think of him right now. I can grieve when I get out of here. If I ever did.
I took out the taser and looked it over. I had read the manual with Gordon, so I knew how to use it theoretically. But I still hadn't actually fired it. I was debating whether to put it back or keep it out. I mean this is Jack, Jack wouldn't hurt me, I didn't need to defend myself from him…
Did I?
After a few minutes I was going to put it back but then I heard someone coming to the door and I made a snap decision and put it in the back-waist band of my jeans, covering the handle sticking out with my jumper, glad for the over-sized knit jumper I was wearing, if I was in a tight top we would have an issue. A minute passed before the door opened.

Jack walked in looking at me suspiciously.
"What are you doing?" He asked as he stood by the door.
"Nothing." I said trying to act casual. "Just checking all my stuff is there." I gestured to the bag and stepped away from it.
"Are you sure?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at me. I hummed and shoved my hands in my pockets to stop them fidgeting.
"Yeah, yeah. Erm where's my, my, phone?" I mumbled, it was a long shot he even had it, but he wasn't stupid enough to even think about giving it to me. He gave me another look and reached into his pocket.
"You mean this?" He said dangling it in front of him.
"Can I have it back?" I asked walking over to him and holding out my hand. But he just smiled and dropped it back in his pocket.
"Why? So you can ring the good old commissioner?" He asked shaking his head. "He would only ruin the party. God rest his soul." He added watching me. My hands balled into fists as he said that. My grief still raw. I knew why he said it, he wanted a reaction from me, but I stopped myself. Though I could feel the taser in my waist band like a hot coal, burning my skin begging me to use it.
"Did you know he was going to be at the bus station?" I asked my voice tight.
"How could I…" He began but I cut him off.
"Don't lie to me Jack. Do not lie." I warned him, my anger barely holding in.
"I might have." He admitted staring into my eyes. It took all my will power to not reach up and wipe the smirk off his face.

I just closed my eyes and turned around, I didn't want to even look at him.
"It's not funny Jack." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"I know. I'm, I'm sorry." I was surprised as I turned back around. "C'mon Ror. I don't want us to fight. I have a gift for you." The door creaked open as he opened it. "Wanna see?" He gestured to the dark hallway. I was still angry, but I was intrigued too. The opportunity to actually leave this room seemed too good to be true. I gave Jack a long look, wondering if he would all of sudden slam to door in my face and laugh at his 'joke'. But I crossed the threshold and he came up behind me closing the door. He took my hand in his and began to lead me down the darkened hallway.

And you know the old saying.
Curiosity killed the cat.
I just hoped I didn't meet the same fate.