"Fuckin' hell…" A grimace spreads across the man's face as the freezing air bites at his nose and hands. Winter has never been forgiving. The only difference now is that there's somewhere to escape it.

Slamming the truck door, he takes the last drag from his cigarette before flicking it into a mound of snow along the curb. Those guys who plow and salt the streets… They suck. He could do a much better job. The storm stopped early this morning, and all they managed to do was make a very narrow path down the center of the road, leaving piles on each side. It's a bitch on a two-way street.

'Morons. Is this the best our taxes pay for?'

Dark eyes glance up towards the house, gazing at the dim light through the curtains. Just like that, the annoyance wanes as the corner of his mouth quirks up. Despite the frigid temperature, heat rises to his ears and neck, warming the man up.

'Waiting for me, huh? Or maybe fell asleep reading again?'

It's dark out. The job today took a little longer than expected. That's what happens when dealing with dumbasses that don't know what they're doing. He expected to be home a few hours ago, but sometimes things don't work out the way it's supposed to.

All that matters is that he's here now and in one piece. It feels strange driving away from the inner city and seeing the stark contrasts on the way into this neighborhood. Watching as the traffic clears up, the streets get smaller, and the noise dies down… It's quiet here for the most part. Instead of large dilapidated apartment buildings, there are little houses with yards. Normal fences instead of ones with barbed wire and 'KEEP OUT' signs. Garbage cans placed at curbs rather than big dumpsters and trash-littered alleys.

This isn't like the hellhole they crawled out from…

Most of the houses along the street are decorated in an array of lights. Some have inflatable snowmen or a fat-ass Santa, while others have Nativity scenes. Only in the suburbs can people comfortably leave that outside without worrying about someone stealing them. Perhaps it's from living in The Narrows for too long or that he's just a Grinch, but there's nothing like that sitting in his own yard. The most he'll do is hang up a string of green and red lights to make a certain person happy.

Not that she gave him much of a choice… It was either do it himself or she'd try, and he'll be damned to let that happen. Not now…

'She's really taken a liking to this stupid holiday.'

Trudging through the snow to get to the stone walkway, a small light from the porch shines along the path. She left it on just for him. Whenever he comes home after the sun sets, the porch light is always turned on even though he doesn't need it. Maybe it's her way of saying he took too long? Or it's just out of concern… Probably a mix of both.

Still, it feels good to have a place to call 'home' and someone to come back to.

Salt crunches beneath his boots as he reaches the steps to the porch. Hopefully, she won't be too upset that he's been gone this long on Christmas Eve… Tomorrow they'll have the entire day together. Just the two of them.

The man shakes out the extra bits of snow from his messy dark blond hair and clothes, not wanting to drag it through the house with him. The tips are still damp from earlier, causing them to curl up to his annoyance. She'll have grand time twisting them around her fingers before letting out a joke or two at his expense.

'That's okay… I like it.'

A wiry grin dances across his face at the thought as he unlocks the door. The warmth is the first thing to hit him, quickly followed by an array of aromas streaming throughout the home. His skin prickles with goosebumps at the sudden difference, feeling himself heating up faster than usual.

'What's that smell? Vanilla? Probably a candle. There's something else… Beef?'

Closing the door and locking it, the man quickly toes off his boots and wet socks onto the mat by the entrance. It's bad enough he's late. No reason to make things worse by tracking water and dirt over the carpet. None of that really matters to him, but it does to someone else…

"Dammit." He mutters, fumbling with the zipper on his coat. It's always getting caught on the fabric, driving him up a wall. She keeps telling him to get a new one, yet old habits die hard. It was always normal to keep things until they completely fall apart, but now there's no excuse. They have the money. There's an envelope safely tucked into the inner lining of his coat with enough to buy dozens of them.

'I'll snag one on the next outing. Got better shit to spend this on.'

Yanking his arms out of the sleeves with a grunt, he begrudgingly hangs it on one of the few hooks along the wall. She likes to keep their keys and coats in one place to avoid losing them, despite her being the only one with that issue. Humoring the small request also helps avoid something falling out of his pockets if she has to pick it up.

A knife… Envelope with money… Papers he'd rather her not see… Shit along those lines. It's not that she doesn't know what he does. Hell, it helped pay for this house. He just takes the side work a little more often than she thinks… And it's much dirtier than he lets on. This was only supposed to be a once in a blue moon thing, yet he can't resist the way it draws him in. For the most part, he's been playing it relatively safe for her sake, but now there's more on the line. The dangerous jobs have better payout and he needs to save up as much as possible.

It's for a good cause.

The man glances at a smaller coat already hanging neatly off a hook. Reaching out, the tips of his fingers graze along the edges of the soft material. The sight makes his eyes droop, feeling heavier than they had just seconds ago.

'This…'

"Jack?" A soft voice calls from another room. His ears perk up at the sound, hearing objects being shuffled around.

"Heh. Were you, ah… expecting someone else?" The quip helps him shake off the unease pooling in his gut. It's easy to ignore those unwanted sensations with a good distraction.

Turning around, dark eyes dart around to take in the surroundings, drinking in everything beyond the threshold. The living room is a decent size. Much more spacious than he had when growing up. Striding across the carpet, it feels cozy beneath his feet. A welcome reprieve from creaky wooden floorboards that seems like a distant memory now.

Jack gazes around the room with a smirk on his face. It paid off. All those stupid, risky jobs that could've landed him in the slammer for a long time. Instead, he's standing in the middle of a warm living room, surrounded by furniture.

A couch… recliner with a remote control… a TV hanging on the wall… small fireplace… Christmas trinkets along the mantle… those candlestick lights that use batteries on the window sill… A tree in the corner, decorated with garland and all kinds of colorful ornaments. This kind of stuff would normally make him gag. He's never shied away from his distaste for commercialized holidays, but contentment overrides his repulsion for the time being.

'This is… home.'

It feels odd, yet satisfying to look at everything. This is all theirs. Nothing is borrowed or owned by anyone else.

Stepping closer to the mantle, Jack leans forward to look at the objects she laid out. There's only one thing he noticed that's missing from a normal home. Pictures. Not a single frame on the walls or along shelves.

"Strange…" He mutters under his breath, noticing the reflection through a tiny glass figurine. A ballerina in mid-twirl with an engraved, mirrored plate behind her, giving the appearance of a stage and curtains in the background. A two-piece set.

Where the hell did this come from? Doesn't seem like something he'd want around the place. Gingerly snatching the plate, he turns closer towards the light to get a better look.

'Something feels… off.'

Dark eyes narrow at the young face looking back at him. Reaching up, rough fingers graze along the unblemished skin around his mouth. Aside from a bit of stubble on his chin, it's smooth. Unfamiliar. It shouldn't, but it does.

'Why do I feel angry now?'

The youthful features in the reflection turn into a scowl, showing the creases in his forehead. Biting the inside of his cheek, that also doesn't seem right. He can't put his finger on it, though…

"What the hell do you mean 'expecting someone else'?!" A small woman stands across the room, a hand on her hip and indignation painted across her pretty face.

The mirrored plate almost slips from between his fingers the moment his eyes land on her. The air suddenly becomes thinner, making it hard to breathe.

'Sakura…'

"Jack? What's wrong?" The fire in those green orbs is replaced with worry as she quickly closes the distance between them. Before he can gather his thoughts and react, she's standing right in front of him, staring up into his face.

Swallowing hard, his gaze trails off to the side. Away from this woman. For some reason, it makes his chest feel heavy just looking at her. Another thing that shouldn't be happening. It's not like they weren't together this morning before he left…

'What the hell's wrong with me today?'

"Did something happen? Why are you acting strange?" The sweet voice draws his gaze back unwillingly, and he almost regrets it. Those emerald eyes filled with concern and confusion pierce right through him like the tip of a blade.

Taking a deep breath, Jack tries to shake off the odd sensations hounding him. This isn't fair to her. It's Christmas Eve, and she's been waiting for him to come back home. He's the one being weird, not her.

"Nope. Everything's fine, doll. So… where'd ya get this?" Waving the mirrored plate around, he tilts his head towards the ballerina figurine, hoping to change the subject.

Sakura narrows her eyes suspiciously, glancing from him to the small object in his grasp. Seconds slowly tick by before a grin spreads across her face.

"Mary from the library stopped by earlier." Plucking the plate from his hand, she uses the bottom of her sleeve to rub off the smudges his fingers left behind. "Since I wasn't at the little Christmas party a few days ago, she dropped off some gifts the ladies got for me. I didn't really know coworkers do that kind of stuff. Guess I'll have to grab them something before the break's over. Unless they did it because of… Well, you know." Sakura chuckles as she neatly puts the plate back in place behind the dancing woman.

"Tch…" He clicks his tongue, annoyed at the thought. They don't need some old hags giving them any more stuff, whether it's food or gifts. Their actions reek of pity. Those crows shouldn't assume they're struggling. He has plenty of money, but that's no one else's business. These days, jobs are just to keep people from asking questions.

"You know they mean well. Don't take it too personally…" The pinkette turns around and gives a sheepish smile. Seeing the scowl etched into his face, she lets out a deep breath, reaching for his hand. "Ah, come on. It's Christmas Eve! Let's just enjoy the holiday and forget everyone else. Okay?"

Glancing down at the pale hands encircling his larger one, he snorts through his nose. The touch of her cool skin against his own dulls the sharp edges down. She knows him too well, especially when he's gearing up for an angry rant… And how to take the wind right out of his sails.

With a small tug, Sakura nods towards the couch and he follows without a word. It's almost like living in two completely different worlds. One outside, that's a mix of mediocrity, violence, and a game of wits, depending on what he's doing. Then there's the other… A quiet life in this house with her.

Watching the pinkette from behind, he can feel himself warming up, letting go of the negative emotions that normally love to brew. A calm in the storm. It's what he needs to stay on that ledge without walking right off.

"Are you hungry? I made some roast beef and vegetables in the slow-cooker earlier." Padding across the carpet, she stops in front of the couch and turns to look at him, causing the pink hair held together in a loose braid to fall off her shoulder. Despite normally preferring it loose, he admittedly likes the different ways she's been wearing it.

Ignoring the question, he reaches out to grab the bundle without a second thought. The pink strands are soft between his fingers as they glide through seamlessly. It's now almost as long as it was when they first moved in here... before she had it trimmed.

It takes a moment to notice the green eyes staring at him, watching in amusement. Seeing the knowing smirk playing on her face, he gives a little tug and lets go.

"What's that look for? Hmm?" Plopping down on the couch, Jack quickly wraps his arms around her waist, pulling the pinkette down to sit on his lap.

"N-Nothing…" She stammers as he lays his chin against the crook of her neck. Taking in a deep breath, he lets the sweet mix of vanilla and her natural scent wash over him. Despite not saying shit about it, the new fragrance is growing on him. It's not in the top five but still working its way up. Maybe he's just getting used to it? As long as it doesn't overshadow the latter, there won't be any complaints.

"How was work?" Sakura reaches up to run her fingers through his hair, earning a throaty groan. Damn… She found his weakness years ago and doesn't hesitate to take advantage of it. His eyes flutter close at the feel of her tips working their way through the dirty blond mess of curls.

"Crap. The usual... Stupid people doing stupid things." He forces out whatever his brain can conjure up under the heavenly assault, knowing she'll pause if there's no response. The last thing he wants is for this to stop.

This is how Jack wanted it to be. Whatever goes on in the streets, stays in the streets. In here, it's just them. The side jobs he takes aren't too often, but more than enough to keep them going if anything happens.

'Something DID happen…'

Cracking a heavy lid, he glances at the pinkette's face. Aside from the usual tranquility she exudes since moving out of The Narrows, there are some recent changes that have caught his attention recently and he's enjoying them all, especially the subtle glow radiating beneath her pale skin.

"I'm glad you're home." Sakura smiles warmly, looking down at the large hands resting on her midsection. The words seem to trigger something unpleasant, making his stomach twist in tight knots. Trying to ignore it, Jack sits up to lean against the back of the couch, drawing the pinkette closer to him. Whatever's bothering him doesn't matter right now. He doesn't want to think about the possibility of this all being snatched away without a moment's notice. That it could be gone in the blink of an eye.

"Me too. I missed you…" Those aren't words he could imagine rolling off his tongue so easily before. This small part of him is reserved for moments like these. When it's just the two of them alone. Being honest with himself in this way has always been hard enough as it is, but she has a funny way of dragging it to the surface.

Snaking his tongue out, Jack prods along the smooth corner of his mouth. It feels off, like something's missing… but he tries not to pay too much mind to it. That's not important at the moment.

"Good, because I definitely did. It felt like forever waiting for you to come back. I was so lonely. Well, guess I wasn't 'technically' alone, but it's still not the same without you." Laying her head back against his chest, she kisses the tan skin peeking out above his shirt. That spot right along the column of his neck, causing the pulse beneath to beat even more erratically.

The arms around her waist tighten like someone's going to suddenly rip the pinkette out of his lap. That'll never happen, but he can't erase the paranoia plaguing him. Perhaps it's from living in The Narrows for years, where a person's world can be turned upside down in an instant?

"What's wrong?" Sakura whispers softly, making his jaw clench. What is wrong? Why can't he just relax and enjoy this without getting all worked up? It's Christmas Eve. They're by themselves in their own home, curled up on the couch together with everything either could want. A warm house. Comfortable furniture. Food in the kitchen. Clean clothes. Bills paid. Money saved up. And there's plenty more to be pleased about at the moment.

Closing his eyes, Jack grimaces as his hands roam in hopes of trying to distract himself from the unwanted emotions resonating through him. The tips of his fingers ghost over the soft gray sweatpants covering her thighs, tracing small circles over the fabric. The pinkette hums in approval, nuzzling her face against the messy strands reaching partway down his neck. The vibrations light his nerves on fire, making it easier to drown out the voices attempting to drag him elsewhere.

"Nothing... Nothing at all." The calloused tips keep traveling upward, drawing invisible patterns until reaching just above the pinkette's pelvis. The small bump growing beneath her long-sleeved black shirt. It's not much at the moment, but there's still time for that to change.

"It's getting huge." Sakura sighs, looking down at the large hands splayed out across her abdomen. Dark eyes pop open at the comment, causing his brow to furrow. Huge? This? It's enough to make him cackle, ignoring the sharp glare coming from the petite woman. "What's so damn funny?"

"Heh. It's just our idea of 'huge' is very different. Look, there's barely anything here." The pinkette's face becomes flush as he rubs circles around the area. Perhaps she's self-conscious, but maybe also looking for some reassurance. If Sakura's worried about becoming unattractive in some way, she's very wrong.

"To be honest, it's gettin' harder to keep my hands off ya… I like this." Nothing could be further from the truth. He enjoys watching the aftermath of his own actions. It gives him a twisted sense of satisfaction, especially in this case. Kind of like watching something he sets on fire, but instead of burning down, it's building up. "I'm also enjoying your, ah… insatiable appetite. Luckily, I'm pretty durable or you might've killed me by now." His lips curl up into a salacious grin, smiling like the devil himself. A little comment is all it takes.

"You're such a perv!" Hands shoot up to cover her reddening face but there's no hiding it. The warm shade is striking against that pale skin, even from the side. He barks out a laugh at the bashfulness, finding it endearing. Embarrassment is a useless emotion. One he only sees as weakness in others and another way of manipulating them.

In Sakura, it's something else entirely.

"That's not my fault. I was a sweet, innocent boy until a pink-haired vixen seduced me. Haven't been the same since." Jack trails off, gazing at the pinkette affectionately. It's easier to let go of everything the longer she's here. Like whatever was bothering him is slipping into the abyss, right where it belongs. He can let his guard down. Maybe even stop looking over his shoulder for a while.

'I don't have to do that anymore. Not like before… No one's going to bother us here. I made sure of that. This is what I wanted it to be like.'

"You? Sweet? Innocent?!" Sakura jerks her head up in disbelief, raising a thin brow at him. "Give me a break… There are a lot of words I'd use to describe you back then, but neither of those make the cut." Sitting up, she shifts to turn around, wanting to be face-to-face.

"Oh?" He melts into the couch as she scoots closer, letting her straddle his waist. "Then how would you describe me, huh? Since I–according to you–wasn't innocent or sweet. Could've sworn I was something like that until you came barreling into my room. Heh. Poor me... There was nothing I could do to stop your wild frenzy." Jack's grin widens as he shrugs, enjoying her bit of feigned outrage. He remembers what happened like it was yesterday. Down to the smallest detail. Still, it's fun to tease and rile the pinkette up.

"Poor you?! Spare me… You act like I held you down and had my way with you." A sly smirk sweeps across her face, putting him on high alert. He knows that look. The expression she has when some snarky retort comes to mind that won't be held back, even if it might get under his skin. "And if I remember correctly… you were in the midd–"

"At-ta-ta-ta!" A finger against her lips quickly stops the words from spilling out. Despite the many moments from that night he relishes in replaying from time to time, that part is not one of them. "We don't need to go there."

'Damn. She went straight for a low blow... What a cut-throat.'

"Mmhhh…" He can feel the soft vibrations of her chuckle against his digit, watching as her smirk grows ear-to-ear. What a wicked little woman to try bringing that up. It's more than enough to deserve being tossed over his knee and spanked.

"And you didn't answer my question." Sakura blinks at his words, paying no mind to the rough tip trailing down to her chin. From the subtle shift in her eyes, he can tell she's replaying the last few minutes, scouring for what he's referring to.

'I wanna know…'

The sweet and innocent part was obviously a joke, but her reaction piqued his curiosity. What words would she use to describe his teenage self? There's been time to look back and reflect. A few things have changed since then. Others? Not so much.

"About how you were?" A slight nod is the only response he gives to the confused pinkette on his lap. Even she seems a bit surprised he asked that. It's not often that Jack would bring up the past, let alone want to continue down that road without changing the subject. "Well…"

Part of him regrets saying anything. Those times are better off being left behind, like everything else in that god-forsaken shithole.

"You haven't changed much. Not to me, anyway." Despite it not showing on his face, the words carry a sting.

'Why the hell did I even bring it up? Tch… What was I expecting her to say, anyway? She's not exactly wrong, but it's still irritating to hear."

"I'd definitely say rebellious. No one would deny that. And very intelligent. That's a big one. You were always the smartest and made everything look so dang easy. It was frustrating sometimes, but you always helped me when I needed it." She smiles softly, reminiscing about their old life in The Narrows. "Hmm. Let's see… Stubborn as hell. Twisted sense of humor. Resourceful. Sharp but rough around the edges. Impulsive. Tough. Cold at times… A devil with dimples." Small hands rest on his chest, gently massaging the tensing muscles through his shirt.

'It's like she's checking off a list. One that started off okay enough but… isn't sounding so hot now.'

Dark eyes tear away from Sakura's face when she moves closer, opting to scowl at the wall instead. The hands on his chest travel upwards, slowly working out the kinks in his shoulders while she continues.

'Trying to butter me up, huh?'

Jack snorts through his nose at the thought. There are probably only a handful of compliments she can muster up about him. It is what it is. He's the one who put himself and his ego in this position.

"I'm not done." She chides, clicking her tongue to draw his gaze back to where it belongs. Not the wall or some random object. Solely on her. "Honestly, I'm glad you didn't change too much. You always did your best to make sure we were okay. That we had enough to get by. I knew we could get through anything as long as we were together, no matter how bad it got. It's easier to weather the storm when you're not alone."

His chest feels heavier looking into her eyes, just inches away from his own. They carry a deep sorrow that spears through him, slowly siphoning out the sense of comfort he'd been trying to hold on to. Her speaking in past tense does nothing to ease his apprehension, either.

"Do you… still feel that way?" It comes out as a whisper, almost like he didn't want to say it at all. Maybe he should've stopped the thought in its track and killed it right then and there. Some things are better left unsaid.

"Of course." Sakura lets out a breathy sigh, letting her eyes flutter close. He finds himself subconsciously doing the same as she rests against his shoulder. "I don't think there's anything that could change that."

The tips of her fingers ghost along his cheek, gently caressing the smooth skin in an unmistakable gesture of reassurance. Not that someone like him needs it, he'd think to himself. They're surprisingly cold to the touch, sending a shiver down his spine. Perhaps he's running warmer than usual from getting all worked up, even if it's over nothing.

'… Idiot.'

"I'm happy, you know. It's peaceful here. I always wondered what it'd be like living outside of the city. Quiet, safe, comfortable. A few years ago, I never would've imagined being in a nice little house like this and having a job that I enjoy. You've given me so much. And you're still up to no good, but at least there's somewhere for you to come back to and rest your head. That alone… would've been good enough for me. It's… It's such a shame…"

"What is?" Jack gasps, jerking back at the sudden warmth seeping through his shirt. The pinkette watches him wide-eyed, ignoring the crimson fluid running down her face and chest. "Wha–?!"

Blood.

It's everywhere.

Falling from the ceiling… Dripping down the walls… Sprayed across the furniture… Pooling onto the floor. Large droplets splatter against his face, like red rain coming from midair.

A nightmare come to life. Every inch of the living space covered in blood, including the two people on the couch. Tainted. Ruined. Unable to be salvaged.

Paralyzed in shock, he can't get another word out as the pale woman on his lap looks at him solemnly.

"That it never happened."

Gonggg… Gonggg… Gonggg…

Bloodshot eyes fly open as the man is jolted awake from the booming sound flooding his ears. Sitting up quickly, he frantically looks back and forth, trying to catch his breath. No one's around. Just some boxes, newspapers, and other junk strewn across the concrete floor.

Gonggg… Gonggg… Gonggg…

"Fuck!" Slapping a gloved hand against his face, he smears sweat and grease paint up into the straggly green hair hanging low. Despite the chill in the air, he's sweating like a pig. Completely drenched. All because of one of those damn dreams… again. It hasn't happened in a while.

'Probably cuz of this shit!'

Looking down at the empty bottle near his boot, Joker's upper lip curls up into a snarl. Liquor. It lets him off the hook for a little while, just to bite him in the ass at the end. An angry kick sends the glass bottle rolling across the floor. He doesn't care where it ends up, just as long as it's away from him.

Gonggg… Gonggg… Gonggg…

"Goddammit!" He roars at the loud noise making his head spin. That piece of crap bell tolling from St. Joseph's Cathedral. The building he and his men stayed in the last few days is a little too close for comfort. Having to listen to that thing makes it feel like there's a large bell in his skull, banging from one side to the other. He just had to choose somewhere on that fine line between the bustling side of Gotham and the shithole further down the way.

Gonggg… Gonggg… Gonggg…

'Twelve rings. That means it's 12:00AM. Officially Christmas morning. No wonder it turned out that way this time.'

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Joker tries to quell the rage growing inside of him. Between that ridiculous dream and the assault on his ears, he's not sure which is pissing him off more.

Both. And he'll make sure to do something about it.

"That alone… would've been good enough for me."

He wants to rip everything out and throw it all away. How many more years need to go by before it stops for good? It's been a little over four and that should've been enough. Apparently, nothing is ever enough. Not for him, nor what lies in his subconscious. 'Out of sight, out of mind' only goes so far.

Pushing himself up off the floor with a loud groan, Joker sways as he tries to get his balance. This shitty feeling alone is a good enough reason to make him not want to drink again. It's always the same. Waking up on some dirty floor with an aching body and in a rotten mood.

His men know to keep their distance after nights like this. All it takes is one wrong look or a tiny mistake to set things off in the worst of ways. They'll keep to themselves until he decides to move on to the next job or location. Either way, most will stay downstairs and out of his hair if they're smart.

Joints loudly crack as he drags himself across the floor, stepping across wrinkled newspapers and bottles. Others have obviously stayed in this old building before they came. Probably squatters and drunks looking for an abandoned place that no one cares about. It's not like an owner or the cops will just pop up here. That makes it a suitable spot to lie low from time to time and get shit together before the next move.

Joker lumbers towards one of the cracked windows, squinting at the bright shine coming from the moon high above the city. Being on this floor gives a fine view of the playground beneath him. Dark eyes blink rapidly as they try adjusting to the lights illuminating Gotham. One in particular catches his attention, rekindling the anger he held just moments ago.

St. Joseph's Cathedral… That lit-up eyesore with the obnoxious bells. Since it's Christmas, he might as well give himself a present. That crooked bishop has already been warned before. No bell, no incessant ringing. Problem solved. They've always got on his last nerve, even back in the day.

Joker's face twists into a scowl. These last few years have been spent trying to rid himself of the past and the identity he previously held onto. Chunk by chunk, he tried to sever those parts and burn them to ashes, hoping nothing will reappear. For the most part, he's been broadly successful recently. It's been a while since anything popped its nasty little head out.

'Why the hell now?'

Is it because of this stupid holiday? The drinking? Both? Or has it been too long, and his brain feels the need to give him a refresher to send him into a fit of rage? There's no point to any of this. It's not like any of that happened or ever will. That possibility died a long time ago. This is the life he has now and fully enjoys. Nothing will get in the way of that. Not any dumb ideas or ghosts from the past.

"It's such a shame…"

The gloved hands at his sides clench into tight fists. No, he doesn't care. Not anymore. What happened, happened. Jack would've in the past, but the Joker? Nope. That's a joke in itself. Times change and people do too. He's a different man now with new motivations and goals. One that doesn't care about trivial bullshit or lets anyone hold him back from doing as he pleases. Having someone around would've just been an extra pain in the ass. The way things are works perfectly fine for him and he'd change nothing, just build onto it. There are always bigger and bolder plans for tomorrow.

Despite his self-assurances, the anger isn't subsiding. If anything, it's only getting worse. A lousy dream shouldn't be getting under his skin so much. This isn't the first time, but it'll be the last. It has to be.

Joker tears his gaze away from the cathedral in the distance towards a noise right outside the building. A plow truck slowly driving down the street, pushing the snow from earlier in the day into heaps along the sides. Just watching it leaves a foul taste in his mouth.

He doesn't want to think about it. What it might've been like to be that man coming back from a job and trudging through the snow to the front door. How warm it'd be as soon as he got in and kicked his boots off. Taking in the aromas of candles and food. Looking around and knowing he accomplished something tangible… Having someone elated just to see him. Feeling that small bump... Relaxing without constantly looking over his shoulder. Being able to dip his toes into trouble and pull them right out on a whim. That man has somewhere to call 'home' and can always go back there.

The problem is that some people can be too greedy. They want to have their cake and eat it too. Shit doesn't always work out like that. It's easy for someone to get so caught up in collecting all the pieces to create their ideal world, that one can slip right through their fingers and be lost for good. When that one's absence renders all the others useless, the person's left with a bunch of pointless fragments that are incapable of completing the picture. That world suddenly becomes unattainable… impossible. They can either try to put together the remnants to see how it comes out or tear it all apart and turn away, hoping to create something with new parts.

Slipping a leather-clad hand into the pocket of his trench coat, he grasps one of the various knives hidden throughout the garment. Sometimes just rolling the closed blade between his fingers is enough to help ease the tension. Right now, it's just giving him some splendid ideas on how to spend the rest of his night.

"Tch!" Joker's face contorts in resentment as he takes in the surroundings outside of the shabby old building. The cathedral's bright lights can be clearly seen even from multiple blocks away. Bars, stores, and apartment windows have a colorful variety of decorations to celebrate the holidays. Even at this late hour, a few people here and there walk down the streets, probably making their way home from some crappy Christmas Eve party that ended late.

'I hate them… All of them. Nothing but greedy pigs.'

Squeezing the knife tightly in his fist, he drags his gaze back to the large piles of freshly plowed snow along the street below. Despite the rage still coursing through him, there's still a small space inside that feels empty and heavy all at the same time. There's nothing that'll change that. Not the passage of time or distractions, or even just trying to forget it all. It always comes back in the end, whether he likes it or not. No matter how many times someone tries to destroy everything and walk away, it's futile if they keep fragments of the past in their pocket… What's left of the pieces meant to create the original version of their ideal world.

"That it never happened."

Joker's heavy lids close as he leans against the window frame, ignoring the wisps of frigid air coming in through the cracks. Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly lets it out as his mind drifts to a place far away from there.

"Yeah... I know, Sakura."

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in some time (gomen!). This one-shot was actually meant to come out at the end of December, but I'm an ass so you're getting it in May instead. I tried to keep this story fluid but it might be a little wonky since there were a few couple month breaks in between finishing it. Anyway, thanks for the patience and taking the time to read!

This story takes place over four years after Sakura 'died' and while Jack is in full-on Joker mode with no intentions of turning back. Drowning in what happened was making him too unstable (like in the Tsuyaku chapter 'Instability') so the best way to cope is to convince himself he doesn't care and to move on, even if it's not actually achievable. If you guys have read QotR, you probably know I enjoy doing dream sequences fufu.

Little fun fact: St. Joseph is the patron saint of the dying, so that's why I chose that name for the cathedral. It seemed kind of fitting, considering the circumstances.