Val was sitting on her bed, reading the newspaper while Jack was on her floor trying to solve a rubrics cube. He focused on the colorful cube carefully matching it together piece by piece. Val sighed and shook her head as she turned the pages to the newspaper.

"Shame. Another kid was found dead today. Can you imagine what the parents are going through?" Val asked.

"Yeah, shame." Jack answered dully still focused on the cube. He was almost done when he saw a small strip of white on the blues. "Shit!" he cried, he focused again, determined to solve the puzzle.

Val put the newspaper down and stroked his short soft hair and she ran his hands up and down his broad shoulders as she talked.

"God, I can't even imagine what that must be like."

"Mhm." he muttered.

"Just losing a parent or a friend is hard enough but your own flesh and blood and by another human being. Oh god."

"Uh huh."

"And just the way he just kills them. They're innocent they can't fight back."

"Yeah."

"Fifty bucks if you can tell me what I just said."

"Yeah."

"Aha! I knew you weren't paying attention!" Val folded her arms over her chest and formed her lips into a pout. Jack looked up and shrugged.

"Sorry. I'm just trying to figure this out." he said, finally matching each color with the other. "Yes!" he cried pumping his fist into the air.

"Nice." Val said uninterested, turning back to her newspaper. They were interrupted when a familiar voice called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Jack? Are you up there?" Nikki called.

"No." he lied.

The young girl's footsteps echoed as she walked up the steps to Val's bedroom. As she walked closer to the couple she began to giggle with youthful excitement. She jumped on Jack and cried with joy. "Jack! My birthday is coming up! What'cha going to get me?"

"It's a surprise." Jack replied with a smile.

"No, no, no! Tell me!"

"Nope. My lips are sealed."

Nikki folded her arms over her chest in her cute little pout. Brown curls falling over her face in like a waterfall. After a minute or two she got up and began to walk around the room and hum. She always sang so softly. Jack loved that hum so much that it was almost painful to hear her stop. He could only imagine what that sound would be like as she grew up. She might be more of an alto than Val was.

As he listened to the young girl hum her tune he wondered where he could sleep for the night. He didn't feel like making it back home. Last time he did, Jamie was out on the doorstep leading to his apartment complex begging for money. Diaz was getting more and more suspicious of the two of them and in response Jamie showed up less and less. With the excuse that he was out of town and needed to attend a funeral or another major important event.

In Jack's opinion it was all bullshit. He couldn't understand why his friend didn't just act like nothing was up so he didn't himself in trouble along with the addict. If there was one thing Jack was good at was lying, and pretending to be innocent. It was almost comical how easily he could fool even the wisest of men. It wasn't hard to trick someone. Just sound convincing, give them something that your audience wants to hear, let it be simple enough to remember and then you have yourself a foolproof lie. Jack even lied to Val. Everyone else knew except her where he was most nights. If it wasn't someone at a bar it was some chick he had known from back in his single days.

He sometimes felt sorry for keeping his fiancee in the dark, but he had to keep on reminding himself that the other broad was only a fling it wasn't like he was attached to the bitch or anything. Val was the one he was going home to at night, and giving her fine presents. Not the blond girl number one or two. Or that babe behind the trash can at that club a few months back. Every now and then he would see the slut, showing off her stuff to another guy, but who was he to judge.

"Val? Can I stay here for the night?" he asked running his fingers through his growing hair.

"No, babe. Uncle Cliff said you can't sleep over because Angela is bringing over a couple of friends and the last thing he needs is a grown man around."

"Oh come on babe." he begged. His eyes formed into a sad puppy look. "Please, please. I don't want to go home."

"I'm sorry Jack. It's out of my control." Val said, getting up from her bed to put away some clothes. Nikki's could easily read the tension off their faces. She had seen Jack get angry with Val before, when they were at Montana. She cried for hours before Jack could finally calm her down. He could see Nikki's eyes begin to water. He leaned down to meet her eye to eye.

"Nikki. Go outside and play for a bit I'll be down soon. We'll play Chuckie the killer doll again."

Nikki shook her head. Her amber curls falling in her already tearing eyes. She began to bite her small lips trying to hold in the pain of the upcoming brawl between them. Jack stood up growing tired of her persistence to stay in the room.

"Nikki. Go please." he said through gritted teeth. Val turned and saw how angry he was getting with her. She threw the clothes down on the floor and exclaimed.

"Don't you get angry at her, she has nothing to do with this."

Jack's eyes wandered to Nikki and he said in a almost too calm voice. "I'm not. I'm just getting completely tired of this."

Val suddenly pushed a crying and howling Nikki out the room and closed the door behind her. "What do you mean?"she asked putting her hands on her hips.

"I mean all of a sudden you don't have me over. You're always busy, you're not returning my calls, you never want to hang out with my friends we always have to be alone and we never go out what is your problem? You seeing someone else?"

"Fuck you." Val said, walking away into the kitchen. He gridded his teeth and pulled her back to him and slammed her small body against a nearby wall. His body was pressed up against hers. Her legs separated by his knee coming between them, while his hands squeezed the life out of her arm.

"So who else are you fucking Val? Besides me? What about that guy you're always hanging out with?"

"Marcus is gay, and he's just a friend." she answered, trying to wiggle herself free.

"Psh," he cackled. "You're probably giving handies out to anyone who tips their hat to you. Do you like it when they touch your little pussy?" Val was speechless, her mouth was ajar, shocked at the words coming from him, but he continued. "Do you call their name when they're pounding you? How many has it been Val? Tell me if I'm hot or cold. Seven? Eight? Eleven? Thirty? Or do you even remember?" Val slapped him as hard as she could. His pale face was red on the cheek from where she hit him.

He suddenly let out a spine chilling laugh. She never heard him laugh this way before. He was laughing so hard that his face was red and the veins in his neck were poking out so clearly they looked like they would burst before her. Tears began to form in her eyes as well as his but for two different reasons. Jack didn't know why the slap on his face was so funny. He couldn't describe the reasons they just were so comical. His whole life from birth was a comedy. His mother being a accomplished opera singer who sang in almost every opera house in Gotham, to being a housewife who gets her face beaten in every chance his drunk father could get and then the bitch kills herself, on Christmas Eve. He had no choice but to laugh. No one but him had such a life.

"Jack, you're scaring me."

"Ohhh Val. You should always look on the bright side of life, death and everything in between. Life is too short to be so serious." he said darkly stroking her hair in a mocking way. "Hush there cupcake. Daddy isn't going to hurt you. Daddy would never hurt you."

Val began to cry harder, but he didn't stop. Instead he ran his fingers down her body and in between her already parted legs.

"See, I'm not hurting you. I just want to ah, touch you. That doesn't hurt you." He slid his hands into her shorts and into her panties feeling the scared woman from the inside. "Does that hurt?" He shoved his fingers into her roughly and listened to the sound of her squeal as she was being fingered dry. Val pushed him away and began hitting him with everything she could muster, but the man was stronger than her. He grabbed her wrist and she yelled as loud as she possibly could.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Suddenly Jack stopped. He sneered at her with sick delight. He loved playing these mind games with her. He figured that was enough for one day, maybe tomorrow he could play some more. He walked swiftly out the door and down the fire escape to his car. Nikki was waiting on the curb for her. She was sniffing and wiping her her tears away with her sleeves.

"Maybe next time kiddo." he said barely talking to her, before getting in his car and driving away. As he drove he smelled his fingers. They still smelled like her. He inhaled deeply and smiled. It made his manhood tingle. He knew what he was going to do later. He just hope the smell would stay long enough for him to enjoy it.

After several minutes of stroking himself from the thoughts of the girl crying as he fingered her, it wore him out, so he decided to go to bed. He didn't see Jamie around his apartment so he figured the boy was probably busy doing whatever he needed to do. Whoring himself for a fix. Damn he hated junkies, such weak minded individuals.

Before he pulled his boxers at his waist and he was fast asleep, he tried to remember the last time he had taken pleasure in seeing someones misery. He remembered he had Val stroke him when they saw a movie about a serial rapist but it wasn't something that he did all the time.

His sleep was rudely interrupted by the sound of someone rummaging through his apartment. He sheepishly examined the noise. It wasn't like one he had heard before. Not the average apartment sounds on the inside and out, but the sounds of a man moving and grunting as he lifted something heavy. Jack stealthily pulled himself out of bed and quietly walked out of his bedroom and down the hall to see someone pulling at the cords of his TV.

'Shit.' he thought.

Now Jack was pissed. How dare some asshole break into his house and try to steal what's his. Jack quickly rushed to his bedroom and pulled out something, anything blunt he could find. He found his knife and a steel pipe that he had found in his apartment months earlier. Jack muttered curses and racial slurs under his breath as he prepared himself for a attack. He waited briefly for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light and watched the man. He was skinny with wild hair.

Not a fight he was hoping for, but still perfect.

He patiently observed the mans movements. With the TV he was clumsy and slow, there was no way he could fight and hold the TV at the same time. He grinned and silently snuck up on the guy as he made his way toward the door. He could feel the man pant and the smell of musk on him. It was horrible. He probably hadn't bathed in days. He felt the cold pipe in his hand when he lifted it up and slammed it on the mans head. He was in shock and dropped the TV on his foot. He cried out in agony as he fell to the ground. Jack could even hear the foot crunch and crack.

"Did you really think you could get away?" he asked hitting him on the back this time. The man screamed and hollered in agony. He tried to explain himself.

"I-I thought you were going to stay at-."

Jack slammed the pipe down on the mans back again, and again. Now he wasn't even aware of where he was hitting him just how hard he was. Now he could hear blood curdle and bones begin to crack he was so bloodthirsty he did not know when the man had stopped fighting. He flicked his knife open and pulled the man close toward the light. He wanted to see the mans face before he died. He loved the looks of terror and the sounds of him begging for his life. When he turned on the light, the mans face was nearly beaten in and he was covered in his own blood. Even Jack had blood spatters all over his body. He pushed back the man's wild, greasy black hair out of his face so he could see the light in his eyes disappear.
Jack's eyes widen and he dropped the pipe to the floor, as he stared at his dying friend.

Jamie opened his eyes slightly and saw Jack stared at him, then closed them.

"Why didn't you tell me it was you?" Jack asked like Jamie could talk. Jamie opened his eyes once more. "You stole my TV for drugs? You probably stole that money from Diaz. You sucking dick for cash too?" Jamie muttered something that Jack couldn't understand then Jack knelt next to his bleeding friend and whispered in his ear. "You should've OD a long time ago." Jack took his knife and dug it into each corner of his throat and slit it from ear to ear. Blood poured from the wound in a crimson fall. He struggled to breathe but there wasn't much fight in the man. It was art.

Then his friend fell dead, crumbled on the floor.

"Junkie." he muttered. Jack looked down at the blood on his floor. It was starting to stretch over to the other corners of the room. "As if I didn't already have enough to do!" he exclaimed, stomping his foot in the pool of blood forming around the body. The blood spattered on Jack's leg and on the dirty white walls.

Jamie's body wasn't that hard to get rid of and luckily for Jack the poor kid had no one to place a missing persons report. It had been almost a twenty-four hours since he placed the body in a dumpster for the maggots and rats to deal with and yet no one had reported him. Jamie never knew his father and his mother was probably dead or in some cheap brothel somewhere. It was not as easy as he imagined it would be. He had to sneak the body over to the dumpster near one of the abandoned houses, then clean up the blood which took nearly all night. By the time the room was spotless it smelled like rubbing alcohol and bleach and it was already seven o'clock in the morning.

After the deed was done Jack curled up in bed and went to sleep for a few hours. He didn't sleep peacefully at all. Not because he felt remorse for his friend but the smell of bleach was strong on his hands and it kept waking him up. When the smell finally wore off and he got a few more hours of sleep he heard his cell phone ringing off the hook. He peaked one eye open and saw his gray cell phone ring and vibrate loudly. He growled as he checked the caller ID.

"Waylon" It read.

Jack frowned. Waylon never called. Then that's when it hit him. The bastard wanted to talk to Jamie. He needed to reach him, Jamie owed him a shit load of money. Jack calmly answered the phone and said groggily. "Hello?"

"Jack? Yo." he started. "I've been trying to reach Jamie for awhile now. Have you seen him? The bastard owes me money."

'I knew it.'

"He's dead." Jack said blankly. He could hear Waylon's booming voice on the other side of the phone laugh hard. Jack wasn't at all amused. He even told the guy and he still didn't believe him. What a asshole.

"Good one Jack. So, you haven't heard from him?"

"No." Jack lied casually.

"Okay, well I'll try later. He's probably trying to come up with the money so I won't kick his scrawny ass."

"Yeah probably. Later." Jack said quickly hanging up the phone not waiting for a answer. He then pushed himself back into bed. He slept pretty good after that, considering what a awful night it was.

After a couple of weeks people began to wonder where Jamie was, and they all turned to Jack for answers. He wondered why they immediately asked him, like he was the junkie's keeper. The pressure was suppose to be seeping through, so he could hide his guilt from the rest of the world but it didn't bother Jack. It was more annoying that they came to talk about Jamie and not about him.

This wasn't the first time he's killed and by now he was used to it. Jamie was his friend but he was just in his home and was going to take his television. Jack couldn't let something like that slide away from him. After a few weeks Jamie's disappearance was last weeks news and things began to turn back to normal. Jack was sleeping over Val's house again, playing with Nikki and sometimes he even stayed the entire week. There was only one issue. Val kept pushing the wedding on him.

It was the wedding this and the wedding that. He asked her Uncle he said yes, he figured what else is there to know? They would probably get hitched when the time and money was right but Jack didn't want to rush it. That wasn't the only thing that stressed Jack out.

Michael Maroni had sent a letter to Jack stating that If he didn't come and beg for mercy like the dog he is then he will have hell to pay. Jack immediately wrote back, on the back of a napkin he used during a night out with Val. Behind the food stains left from dinner he wrote in red ink.

"To the guinea brat, kiss my ass. Love Jack."

He hadn't gotten a reply and he didn't care if he did. Michael Maroni didn't have the balls to hurt him. If he was a bitch while they were fighting in the street he'd probably be a bitch to come and get him.

He was laying in bed with Val, playing with her black hair, and dragging his fingertips up and down the curves of her body. She chuckled when he fingers ran down to the "ticklish spot" on her side. She looked up at him and smiled.

"That little porcelain doll you gave Nikki was really sweet. It's what she wanted for three years."

Jack nodded and kissed the back of Val's ear. He smelled sweet vanilla. It was her secret place where she hid her special scent. "What did she name it?" he asked, into her ear. Running his tongue up and down the spot.

"Little Susie." she said softly, curling her toes at the touch of his tongue against her skin.

"Cute." Jack wrapped his arms around her neck. Her throat was just under his arm. His member twitched when he thought of what he could do to her right now. Just hold her down by her throat and watch the life slip out of her-. "Where is Sundance anyway?"

"She's outside playing at the park." Val said feeling his grip tighten around her neck.

"Oh." He peaked up at the clock. It was only five he had enough time to get back to see Val and Nikki. He promised Waylon and Ray he'd meet them for drinks. He kissed her on the cheek and got up from her bed. "I'll be back later." he said putting on his clothes.

"When?" Val asked not bothering to look at him.

"Soon." he said kissing her on the lips and walking out the door.

Jack wasn't in the mood for spending money on rounds at the bar, or playing pool, or inhaling the grubby bikers cigarette smoke. He just wanted to be alone so he could think. He was staring at the tv preterdning to watch the football game. Gotham Giants were down by two to the Bludhaven Lions. He drank down his fourth shot of whiskey. He felt the strong spicy taste fall down in his throat and into his chest.

Waylon was talking at Ray while Ray replied with a nod and sipped his drink. Jack looked from the corner of his eye and saw some big Italian guy standing by the door smoking a cigarette, staring him down. Waylon broke Jack's concentration when he grabbed him by the shoulder and said drunkenly.

"Jack, what...what the hell do you think of...of.. the Giants?" he asked pointing a shaking finger to the television screen. His breath ranked of gin. He hated that smell. Besides beer, gin was his father's favorite drink. Jack snatched back his shoulder and shrugged.

"Yeah, I don't care." he said, placing the money that he owed before getting up to leave.

"Oh." Waylon hung his head to stare at his lap, then raised it again. "Yo, Jack. You gonna...play pool with... you know... me and Ray."

"I'll take a rain check on that." Jack replied, putting his hands into his leather jacket and walking out. The Italian guy was giving him a dirty look. Jack gave him a devilish grin, bearing his teeth before slamming open the door and walking to the parking lot. No one was around and the night sky was crisp and fresh. It was hot for him to wear a leather jacket but he was too lazy to take it off.

When he was a inch away from his car he felt a smack on the head. He fell to the ground inhaling the gravel from the pavement. He checked behind his head to see if he was bleeding. "Shit." he said turning around when he saw the Italian guy staring over him. The man kicked Jack a couple of times in the ribs. Jack curled up in pain.

The guy delivered one painful kick to Jack's face. His head flew back and he could feel his nose crack, and blood fall. Jack let out a laugh. At first it stunned the guy. He froze and watched the skinner man howl. Jack's nose began to bleed profusely into his open mouth and he could feel his ribs ache. The Italian guy grabbed the hysterically laughing Jack by the collar and dragged him away. Jack watched as his black jeans began to turn different colors from being dragged in the dirt. He couldn't breathe through his nose so he resorted to breathing through his mouth. He was thrown into the back of a van that held a few other Italian men.

The man who abducted him leaned into the van and slammed his fist hard in Jack's face, making Jack laugh even harder.

The abductor said something in Italian to another man and the other one took the butt of a gun and slammed it hard in Jack's face. He was immediately unconscious, his world turning black.

Every once in awhile he would hear the blur of voices or see the ceiling of the van. The van jumped up and down against the road, making Jack groan when his ribs would hit the floor of the van first.

When Jack finally opened his eyes, he groaned at the pain all over his body. It wasn't that bright but it still hurt. He tried to bring his hands to his face but they were tied behind his back. He tried to rip his hands free but the rope only grew tighter. He attempted to sit up but his legs were bound to. On top of that he was inhaling air from a dirty carpet.

'Fuck.' he thought.

He stopped bleeding from his nose but he could feel the dried, crutsted blood down his chin. One of his eyes was swollen and aching but he could still see through it. His ribs and his head was what hurt the most. As if his day couldn't get any worse on cue he heard a familiar laugh from the distance. He tried to focus on who it was. He squinted as if that would make him think harder.

"How does that feel?" the voice asked.

'Michael fucking Maroni.'

"Great. Couldn't get any better, except when you came Mikey. Now it's a party."

Michael chuckled drinking the last of his drink before placing it on his table. "How do you like the penthouse?" he asked extending his arms as if he was showing Jack a grand kingdom.

"White walls totally fits you. Talk about tender loving care." Jack laughed, at the mobster. Michael kicked him hard in the stomach which made him chuckle. "Is this how you win your fights Mikey? Tying people up and beating them? You really showed me how much of a bitch you truly are."

Michael picked Jack by the ropes and punched him hard in the face causing Jack's head to go back. He hit him in his good eye. Jack knew from past experiences that he was going to get two fresh black eyes. Michael hit him again when Jack's head came back around. Jack spat blood in his face and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Is that the best you can do, guinea brat?! I would think Daddy would've taught you better!" He leaned forward laughing. Drool mixed with saliva and blood fell onto his knees. His face was red and the veins in his neck were visible. Michael walked backwards disgusted.

"You're insane." he muttered.

"I'm only staying sane in sanity." Jack laughed. He didn't comprehend what he was saying. His mind wasn't at all clear. He could taste blood in his mouth and one of his back teeth were lose and rubbed against the inside of his mouth. He grinned a bloody smirk at the mobster. He watched as Michael pulled out a gun from a nearby drawer that held various types of alcohol. He cocked the gun and pressed it hard against Jack temple.

"Mmmm, I bet that bitch of yours and Val would be proud of you. Take me out of my misery." Michael locked his jaw together, and kept his finger firmly planted on the trigger. Jack continued. "Lets go, Mikey. I ain't got all fucking day! Do it!"

"Shit." Michael said, taking the gun away from his temple and reached for the whole bottom of Scotch. He drank a huge gulp and placed it on top of the mantle to a electronic fireplace. He placed it back to Jack's temple. Jack's world revolved around Michael's harsh breathing and the sound of the TV in the nearby bedroom.

"Child killer strikes again on suburban play ground. The girls whose name has not been released was found not too far from said park-."

Michael interrupted the broadcast with his whining, about how he was going to do this or not. Jack waited cooly as he made his decision, keeping himself busy by picking at his back tooth. His mad nihilistic eyes never left Maroni.

"Fuck it!" Maroni said placing the gun at Jack's temple again.

"Oh the old familiar places." Jack smiled wildly at him.

Maroni didn't pull the trigger like he didn't the past few times. Maroni squeezed his eyes together, and gathered the courage to pull kill the man before him. Sweat was falling from his fast in large beads. He finally opened them and looked at the dark circles underneath Jack's empty brown eyes.

"Fuck you!" Maroni said slamming the butt of the gun against Jack's face sending him flying to the wall. He didn't even feel himself fall to the ground, or the pain coming from the spot where he'd hit him. He felt warm crimson liquid fall down his neck and to his shirt soaking it. Soon he felt his eyes close again.

'He's still asleep...'

'He's been asleep for days....'

'Look, I see him moving....'

'He's waking up......'

When Jack bright lights and white walls greeted their unsought acknowledgements . When his eyes adjusted he noticed Val sitting to the side of his bed. Her hair was in mayhem and her make up was smeared. Her eyes were red and puffy. She forced a smile but Jack could tell she was too upset to consider the expression. She was only putting up a front.

"Hey babe." she said. "How are you feeling?"

Jack's head was aching and his wrist and ankles were sore. He could barely move and his face caused him such agony. His loose tooth had been removed or maybe it fell out. He didn't know and he didn't care.

"Like shit." he managed to say through the pain. He tried to grin but it only hurt him more.

"Don't talk then. It's alright." He realized her hand was clasped in his. She pulled it up to reach her face, and he gently stroked her light ebony skin. "I thought you were dead." she said beginning to cry.

"What makes you think any mother fucker could kill Jack Napier?" he joked trying to laugh, but it hurt. He grinned through the pain, hoping to make her smile but she didn't. "What's wrong Val?"

"It's nothing."She said looking away from him. He turned her chin to meet his face.

"What's wrong, cupcake?"

"The doctors said it wasn't best to cause you any stress right now."

"Tell me." Jack shot her his best puppy dog look. "Please."

Val shook her head and she began to cry more. Jack grew angrier as each tear fell down her cheek. He wanted to know what son of a bitch caused his girl so much pain. He knew he had to get Michael back but that would take planning.

"My Rag Doll. Please tell me what's wrong?"

Val shook her head. "I'm going to get some water I'll be right back." As she turned to leave Jack grabbed her by the arm and yanked her toward the hospital bed. It hurt his ribs and his wrist but he was unemotional.

"You'll get your water when you tell me what upset you."

Val sighed and pushed her hair back. She nodded and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You have to promise to remain calm."

"Promise."

Her whole arm was shaking underneath his palm. Her other hand gently stroked his stubble ridden cheek. He could smell the perfume laced on her clothes and the smell of shampoo in her thick hair. Her eyes watered with more tears and she leaned in to whisper to him what had troubled her so. When he heard her words Hhs eyes widen and his heart dropped. He couldn't believe what he had heard. No it wasn't possible. He clenched his fist together so hard that he started to bleed lightly from his palms. He slammed his fist hard on the bed, and at anything in sight. He was blind with fury. No one existed, he wasn't in a hospital, it was just him and his world.

He didn't see the nurses file into the room, or feel them push him down or watch as the needle sunk into his IV leading him to think about what he was just told.

The bright light and the smell of disinfectant, mocking him. It was driving him mad.