"Sit with me, Celine."
She lowered herself onto the soft, rectangular carpet that had been set out for her. Agatha took the spot directly across.
The room was lit with eight pillar candles, seven of which were positioned strategically around to balance out the dark to light ratio. The last candle burned steadily in the space between them, bathing them both in a soft glow.
"Since returning to Gotham, I confess I've not known what has been happening in your life until I saw a photo of you earlier in the week from a newspaper stand. I've sensed you have been under great strain." She picked up the deck of tarot cards sitting by the candle and began shuffling them. "I believe I'm all caught up now. Correct me if I've missed anything. You were held hostage and rescued. A woman attempted to sue you for negligence in the death of her daughter. You won the appeal, but she did not think this sufficient justice. She took part in as many interviews as possible to condemn you. Her life also ended recently."
"That about covers it."
Her gaze lingered on her face.
"And the bruises and missing finger? I know it is connected to the manhunt Gotham underwent for the three now deceased City Council members and the kidnapping of the other members' children. Though in what way isn't as clear."
Celine nodded, caressing her bandaged hand.
"Long story short I tried getting the kids back. Succeeded, though…at a cost."
She lifted her hand as emphasis.
Agatha's eyes closed. A frown briefly overcame her.
"I am sorry you had to experience such cruelty." Her eyes popped open. She smiled gently. "And yet…the courage you mustered up to do what few were willing to…do not discredit that so easily. Even if less positive feelings weigh you down."
She shook her head and exhaled.
"That's all I've felt lately," she admitted. "The burden of guilt and confusion. Being around Bruce…John…people that love me…before today anyway helped me maintain optimism. It's when I'm alone…or when I'm-." She wasn't sure whether to bring up her encounters with Joker, still feeling sensitive about how much she enabled their relationship. "-when I'm around certain people…then everything becomes murky. Meditation hasn't worked, reading people is a hit or miss…I feel a sharp disconnect between how I think and how I feel. And I don't know how to reconnect the two. Or what was responsible for them misaligning so severely."
Agatha nodded patiently. She had stopped shuffling her deck and instead was palming the top card.
"Have you dreamt of Nora lately?"
"No. But…she's made it evident she's around. You said once that the loved ones we lost can sometimes make their presence known through an animal. A few weeks ago, I was at an outdoor café with a friend and a butterfly landed on my cup. It trusted me enough to fly onto my finger. Instinctively I knew it was her doing. I haven't lost her at least…that's a silver lining in all this."
"Indeed." She hummed to herself, appearing thoughtful. "If it is any consolation, I still feel from you the same level of power I did New Year's Eve. You have not lost anything in the slightest. But the energy surrounding yours …it is…." She tilted her head, searching for the right word. "Indistinguishable from your own…and yet…not entirely on par with the frequency you've learned to vibrate on. I am having a tricky time reading whose it is or how it's possible for it to not only meld harmoniously with yours but also…apologies if I'm struggling to explain this…clash just as much as it melds."
When Agatha's brows furrowed in contemplation, Celine frowned. She'd not yet had the privilege of stumping her before.
What does she mean it melds harmoniously? It feels the exact opposite.
"You know…I sensed you would need my help," Agatha added. "And my intent tonight was to do an in depth reading out of my Suit of Cups deck. This deck is more equipped to aid in emotional, unconscious, and intuitive matters." She glanced down at the cards in her hand. "Instead, I was almost urged to grab the deck I did your first reading with. And this card beneath my palm…it…radiates with intent. It has been…seeking to be flipped for quite some time. Let us see what's attempting to be revealed to you."
She flipped the card under her palm over, studying it first.
Celine waited with bated breath, chewing at her lower lip.
Amazement briefly invaded Agatha's features. Not a second later and she began to laugh.
"Oh," she said once the last of it ebbed away. "That explains it. A first in all the years I've done this. We won't be needing any more cards."
With that said, she lowered the card between them, next to the candle.
The Lovers. Upright.
Celine cocked her head.
"I don't understand."
Agatha was making a valiant effort not to smile ear to ear.
"Congratulations my dear," she said. "It would appear that you've found your soulmate."
Celine's mouth dropped open.
"The hell I did."
She was almost tempted to scoot away from the card. As if it posed a danger beyond resting there.
"There is no doubt about it," Agatha assured. "This is most likely why you have felt so imbalanced and confused as of late. You…are struggling to be receptive to it."
Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair.
"Who?"
It came out a little more demanding than she'd intended, but Agatha didn't appear bothered by it, fully aware of the curveball she'd thrown her way.
"There isn't a name that comes to me…" Her eyes fluttered shut. "Perhaps if I just…focus a little bit…more."
Celine watched her, incredulity coursing through her veins. Did she even believe in soulmates? The concept of a soul, certainly, yes, but the idea that two individual souls were fated to be with each other? It had always seemed like a fanciful daydream to her. Something romance novels and films tried to sell you on to lessen the cynicism most had on love. For the past few years she'd even become convinced she was her own soulmate.
It can't be Bruce. She would have told me years back. John? I can see it…we're bound to each other against all odds and deep down I know I will end up forgiving him because my love is that strong. Still…I've known him almost as long as I've known Bruce…surely, she would have said something. Which means it has to be someone I only recently acquainted myself with. And have a natural reverence for. There's Aesop. I don't yet love him, but I care deeply for his wellbeing. There's Wesley. But he's so…young. Mature beyond his years, but only just beginning to find himself and his place in the world. I see him more as a little brother than anything.
Her mind was briefly propelled back to the classroom she'd taken her SAT's in. A thick booklet of papers rested on her desk. One of the questions had an array of possible choices. She took to relying on the process of elimination.
A. Bruce? No.
B. John? Unlikely.
C. Aesop? Not in that way.
D. Wesley? He's a kid still.
E. J-
No. No, no, no, no, no, no. La la la la la la I'm not listening I'm not listening I'm not-.
"I'm sorry," Agatha voiced, opening her eyes. "I can't see a name."
Her shoulders sagged with relief.
"There is only a man…with a jagged smile."
She had to fight down the urge to push to her feet and bolt out of the room.
This isn't happening.
"You are troubled," she observed. "Understandable, given the extremes of the pairing."
An ear-piercing laugh shot out of her. It was absent of any humor.
"Joker," she forced out. "Is. Not. My. Soulmate. He doesn't even have a soul!"
"All living creatures have a soul," she counteracted.
"Agatha." She leaned toward the woman, meeting her eyes unblinkingly. "You know me. You, maybe better than anyone else, knows me. I have my flaws. I don't always make the right decisions and I'm prone to my moments of selfishness. Though I strive to constantly expand my worldview, I can't deny that I like being right. However…at my core I am kind, I am compassionate, and I am full of love to give. It-it makes absolutely no sense that someone like him could be fated for me. You're mistaken, I'm sorry."
She maintained the woman's gaze, unwilling to backtrack on these words.
Unfortunately, Agatha wasn't so easily persuaded.
"My dear…I did not tell you this to upset or scare you. It is something to celebrate, truly. Soulmates aren't uncommon, but it is rare altogether for them to encounter each other. More often than not, they end up living in different time periods or one is born as the other dies. That you two have found your way to one another in the same moment in time is nothing short of a miracle. Is there any part of you willing to acknowledge how incredible that is?"
"No."
"Why?"
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
"Why?" Agatha tried again, not letting up. "You are right, I know you better than most. And you have never been one to live in denial. Trepidatious, skeptical, unsure…yes. But you have always sought to live this existence as truthfully as possible, be it your own or the universe's. This denial runs deeper than I can wrap my head around. Why do you so ardently reject what I know in every pore of myself to be true?"
Frustration was suffocating her lungs. She took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. Again, her emotions attempted to lead her by the scruff of her neck. She wouldn't let them.
Agatha deserved a non-explosive answer. A true answer. And it wasn't until working on her breathing, trying to re-center herself, that she realized how difficult that answer was to acknowledge.
"He's the complete opposite of my ideal partner," she began. "He doesn't know what love is nor how to love for that matter. He would kill me if it suited his plans. He would kill me out of boredom. He would kill be because he felt like it. What part of me finds that incredible? If he is my soulmate, then I feel like I'm being punished. I feel like I did something wrong."
She held a breath in, trying to find the words to voice this next part.
"I…there is something that draws me to him. All of me to him. I have…betrayed my morals to keep him from being captured. I've responded to his flirtatiousness and even enjoyed it. There is something there…but it is not enough. Not with him. Anyone but him."
"I see."
She didn't say anything for a long while, one of her thumbs tapping against her thigh.
"I want to show you something," she finally said, extending her palms. "It will require us to join hands. It is the only way I know how to make you see what I see."
"Agatha," she interjected, "how can you, in good consciousness, encourage this? He'll take the chance to hurt me the moment I let down my guard. Do you really think so little of me?"
Her sigh was emitted from deep within her belly.
"Celine…I'm well-aware of who he is and the agony he has left in his wake. Just…let me show you…I need you to see this."
Hesitantly she placed her hands into Agatha's outstretched ones. An involuntary shiver raced through her. She'd forgotten just how powerful the woman sitting across from her was.
"Now, close your eyes and attempt to open your third eye. If you are rusty, rely on me to do so."
Steadying her breaths, Celine closed her eyes and worked on clearing her mind. So much was happening up there that it took some time to make it all vanish. Agatha's grip on her was gentle yet firm. She could feel the power coursing out of her and into her body like they were each grabbing the end of a heavily conductive wire.
The darkness beneath her lids gradually began to recede until she was standing barefoot in the backyard of her childhood home on a brightly-lit day. This was her safe place. Where she felt most balanced and refreshed. Where the version of her standing there was wholly connected to the soul.
Immediately, she could feel her body start to relax. Not long after Agatha materialized onto the green grass next to her, wearing a loose-fitting white summer dress.
"You're here," both Celine's stated.
"I am," both Agatha's returned. "I am going to show you a star that underwent supernova roughly one billion years ago in the Crescent Nebula."
The sky abruptly shifted from a fluffy-clouded cool blue to nearly all black. The only source of light was a massive, sweltering red star with a rapidly throbbing core. Thankfully, no planets or moons were in the vicinity – or they had been formally but were gobbled up by the expansion of the star's outer gases.
Though she knew it took millions of years for death to fully occur…for the red giant she was glimpsing to return to either a white, cool dwarf star or a blackhole (size depending); the actual death transitioned before their eyes over the course of seconds. And the closer to death the star got, the more she could feel the erratic, carbon-based fusion churning from within. It made her body buzz like a ringing cell phone with the silence switched on.
"In seconds this star will explode and die. Portions of its energetic composition will be blasted into different regions of space. The only remnant of its long life."
Celine gazed at the pulsating star. The shades of crimson nearly hurt to look at, but in the same token, she couldn't tear her gaze away.
"It's beautiful."
Agatha smiled.
"Isn't it?" She raised her arm and pointed at the very center. "A part of the energy comprising your soul is stored within this star. A part of what comprises the Joker's soul is also stored in this star. Though you only recently met, your souls have known each other for eons. You were forged together…have worked in tandem for longer than can be conceived."
She spoke without thinking.
"His name is Jack."
Agatha turned to her.
"Would you prefer I call him that?"
It was a tricky question. Seeing as she planned to deliver him to the police tomorrow, humanizing him would only make what she had to do that much more complicated. But human is exactly what he was; something she struggled to remind herself of because so much of what he did was the polar opposite.
"Yes."
She nodded.
"Jack it is."
Their eyes returned to the star. The buzzing in her body continued to amplify until every hair was standing on end.
"How common is it for two souls to have the energetic makeup of the same star?"
Sensing it was being discussed, the star's gases flared out even further into the dark. Death was on the horizon and it would expand as much as it was able until its dying breath.
"About as common as soulmates encountering each other at the right time."
Well…shit. That doesn't make things any easier.
She watched on, transfixed as the star continued to balloon outward before finally…finally exploding; its core utterly devoid of elements to fuse, unable to do anything but collapse in on itself.
Her eyes slammed shut. When they opened again, in the star's place was a white-hot ball of matter, nearly a fraction of its original size. And hovering at its' nearby edges were light blue and rose-colored swirls of the star's original outer gas layers. In time they too would fade, but for the current moment they would linger as a tribute to the recently deceased.
Celine blinked and with each blink the sky began to return to a cerulean blue with a handful of fluffy clouds scattered about.
"The point of showing that to you," Agatha explained, "is to get you to see this isn't an attempt at a cruel joke. Your souls have spent eternities creating light in the darkest corners of the universe. Though neither of you may be able to explain why your union felt so natural, this is the reason."
Celine shook her head. Though she had witnessed the supernova, doubt continued to gnaw at her.
"I can see you are still on the fence," she noted. "Tell me…when you shut your brain off and look to the voice within…what does it tell you?"
She nearly whispered her answer. The admission was too troubling to be heard by anyone else's ears but their own.
"To…give in."
It was a truth she'd been dodging for quite some time. She refused to listen from within because in her mind it all but guaranteed a bad outcome for her. Perhaps this is where the misalignment had begun. Denial bred mistrust, mistrust confusion, confusion chaos.
"He's so dangerous," she followed up. "I can't fathom him being capable of expressing love of any kind."
"I understand."
They were silent for a moment.
"Would you happen to have any possessions of his on you?" Agatha inquired. "His energy interwoven with yours…it is but a sample of him. I should like to know him better."
One hand traveled down to her waist. It'd been a last-minute decision to bring Sally with her. She didn't think she would face any unexpected obstacles on her journey here but having it at her waist… equipped with the knowledge that Joker had willingly given her his own knife's companion…served as an unexpected source of calm.
She extended the closed blade to Agatha.
The woman accepted it, flipping it over in her hands, palms pressing tightly on either side of it.
"My oh my," she murmured, "he's like a livewire. It better explains why you feel so off kilter. He's not accessed this part of himself since he was a young, young boy."
She closed her eyes and focused, her own breathing slowing to a near imperceptible speed.
"Got you," she declared with a grin. "Let us take a peek…your hands again, Celine. Right one atop the blade, left one in mine."
She did as she was told, biting her lower lip. A part of her was urging she get up and leave right this second. Soulmates be damned, she was willing to go it alone for the remainder her life.
But she refused to give in. Both John and Agatha had claimed she was allowing denial to do the thinking for her. Denial was the nemesis of truth. Though it terrified her to take the leap, it would be a disservice to herself not to at least take a peek at the whole picture. That…picture…being…her…soulmate…
Will I ever be able to say that without cringing?
The moment she closed her eyes everything blurred into a depthless white. This time around neither of their physical bodies materialized. Rather, she was observing with her third eye a plane where time and structure didn't exist. Agatha's hands tightened on hers every so slightly. And with it something black began to emerge. It was no larger than a basketball, spherical in shape with the outside lines looking like they'd been drawn by a child.
The black substance almost resembled tar. And the depth of its thickness had her deeply uneasy.
"What am I looking at?" she asked.
"This," Agatha stated, "is what Jack's soul looked like prior to him meeting you."
She couldn't hold back her gasp.
"What?! How is that possible? I've seen mine before…it glows gold and white. Most peoples do I thought."
"This is the culmination of years of self-loathing…of an inability to process traumatic events that so strongly shaped him. This is the state of a soul that has willfully and intentionally closed itself off from its higher self…the self whose very nature is to love unconditionally. This is also the state of a soul that seeks out negative vibrations…anger, apathy, violence, malice…I'm afraid these emotions have become so commonplace that he struggles to experience the world any other way."
Something akin to empathy stirred within her. It was shortsighted on her part to assume he'd simply been born this way. Of course he had suffered, as all children do at some point. Be it the abrupt loss of innocence, the helpless realization of how much hatred runs rampant in this world, or the first time death becomes a fully realized concept.
Similarly, Jack wasn't a dumb person. His intellectualism proved itself again and again, from his impressive knowledge of a wide range of subjects to the meticulousness with which he planned to the strategy with which those plans unfolded. It was her personal belief that children with a sharpness beyond their years tended to suffer more sensitively to their environment. As it was turning out, he was no exception.
"I guess…I thought he was invincible to trauma," she offered. "He acts so self-assured…like nothing could ever pierce the armor he wears."
"No one builds armor without a reason," Agatha promised. "It is always in response to having been pierced. Around age seven is when he began to construct his."
She didn't know what to do with this knowledge. She was pretty sure attempting to ask Jack about it would earn her a knife through the jugular.
"Now I will show you what his soul looks like since having met you."
At first, Celine was convinced nothing had changed. The same heavy tar covered his soul like a second skin.
And then she saw it. A ripple shot out from within, causing the black in its path to fluctuate slightly.
"Kindred. His higher consciousness recognizes you. And it no longer is content to stay submerged beneath the darkness. Jack's mind and body has sensed this…and as of late, it has become a source of immense frustration for him. You think you are fighting with yourself? He is just as much at war, deeply conflicted on who he wants to win."
She thought at the time it'd just been an off the cuff remark.
"You are trouble with a capital T. Testing me. Yes, yes…testing me. I've not known peace since meeting you."
"He does an incredible job of hiding it," she said, not realizing until now just how serious he'd been.
"Yes, his version of self-preservation. He's sacrificed much to become the person he is today. It uneases him to know his old self is not entirely expunged."
"Why doesn't he bury him back down? He's certainly not lacking the resilience to do so."
Celine felt Agatha hesitate through their joined hands.
"Because the only way to do so would be to…kill you."
She flinched.
"All the more reason to steer clear," she replied after a few seconds. "I'd be stupid to pursue anything with someone that viewed me as a liability. Killing me would make his life easier…I'd never not be aware of that. It wouldn't be a matter of if, but when."
Agatha tilted her head.
"I will not sugar coat it…he has considered killing you each time you have come across each other. Such is the instinct of a man like the Joker. Snuff out all perceived weaknesses and your strength will return tenfold. Though weak is not a word he would use to describe you, his acknowledged attachment to you…his fondness for you…within himself he deems this to be weak. He would not kill you because it gave him pleasure, but because he considers it a necessary evil. So he can return to what he knows well…what doesn't require any serious risk."
"Thanks Ag, that made me feel so much better."
She was rewarded with a chuckle.
"You underestimate the voracity in which he fights this instinct," she amended. "Celine…he does not want you dead. His soul has known you for millennias; his mind admires yours, his body…let us just say you spend a very healthy amount of time in his fantasies during his more…personal time. It is crucial to note that you appeal to all three levels of him…and they are working in synch with each other to convince the instincts that drive Joker not to end you. The more times you come away unscathed, the less desire he has to go through with it."
She was tempted to refute this, but then thought back to the last time he'd pulled a knife on her. Her apartment, just after he'd escaped his cuffs. He'd made the choice not to kill her and instead gifted her the weapon he'd nearly used on her (perhaps to avoid the temptation of using it?).
Anytime after that, the worst he'd done was use brute force. And more often that not it was to further along a potentially…salacious encounter.
"I guess I should applaud Jack for how far he's come?" She clapped her hands with no shortage of sarcasm. "It's like a heavyweight match between someone who's been in the ring for decades, fighting bare-knuckled, bearing-teeth, undefeated…against a seven-year-old trying on boxing gloves for the first time. You do remember how Ivan Drago vs Apollo Creed turned out, right?"
Then again…I always thought Apollo got kind of cocky. Plus, Dolph Lundgren was a stud and a half back in the day…aaaand I'm only making this worse for myself.
Agatha chose her statement carefully.
"Joker is Jack, but Jack is not Joker."
She repeated this to herself but failed to feel comforted by it.
"Think, dear. Have there been times you've noticed the shift between the two?"
Yes rested on her tongue. Divulging his real name when she had asked. The intimacy that'd ensued. Emptying out her fifth after coercing her to open it. Offering to keep her guarded during the City Council manhunt. Dismembering Gil for harming her. Cutting off his dick for threatening to rape her. Holding her on the bus. Holding and comforting her after Martha's interviews. Doing away with Martha to make her life easier.
Not until these instances hit her all at once did she realize Jack maybe have been trying to say hi to her, but he only seemed to know how via Joker's attributes.
"I have," she slowly agreed. "But…there's still so much…uncertainty. His soul was black, Ag. That's what he puts out and attracts…has on a daily basis for who knows how long."
"Do you not believe in your own power?"
Her eyes snapped open.
"What do you mean?"
Agatha's remained shut.
"Your light…you use it to shine it on the darkest corners of a person. Your variety of friends attests to how successful you are. What makes you think you cannot reach someone like Jack? Especially when you've already witnessed firsthand the alterations that have occurred because of you?"
She was, for seemingly the hundredth time, at a loss for words. Agatha was making it all sound so easy. It wasn't…was it?
"You've not met Jack fully," Agatha continued. "Thus, it is nearly impossible to imagine what the man buried within is like. Let me show you how he could have ended up had things gone differently earlier in his life."
I don't want to see this…yes I do…no I don't…yes…no…fuck.
Placing her hands into Agatha's, Celine closed her eyes again.
This time they had an omniscient view into a cozy bungalow style home. To her astonishment an alternate version of her was standing in the kitchen, humming softly to herself while toweling off a few drying plates in the sink. A record player from the living room was playing "Harvest Moon" by Neil Young. This wasn't a stretch by any means, that was one of her favorite love songs.
She didn't notice Jack right away. He was reclined on his back by her legs, half of him stuffed underneath the cupboards beneath the sink. A toolkit was propped open beside him.
"Try it now."
She set her towel down and tried turning on the cold water. Water instantly began to spew every which direction beneath the sink, effectively soaking the man beneath it.
"Argh!" he exclaimed.
She hastily flipped the water off and peddled backwards, hands flying to her mouth. Giggles were muffled against her palms.
"Something amusing you there?"
He finally pulled himself out from beneath the sink, causing the real Celine's mouth to pop open.
Oh, he was handsome. Very, very handsome.
The Jack in front of her firstly lacked his trademark scars. Not that she ever found them ugly to begin with, they spoke of a deeply personal experience; most likely painful on a level beyond physical. She had her own fair share covered up and couldn't help but admire the lack of restraint with which he showcased his. Unrepentant, uncaring; owning up to them rather than attempting to mask them.
That being said, seeing his unmutilated cheeks for the first time, speckled with the lightest hint of a five o clock shadow really brought to light what sort of man all that clown make-up had hidden away.
His eyes were the next point of interest. Their darkness and intensity had always drawn her to him, but never not carried in them some form of hostility or mania. This Jack's expression was much softer, and the amusement twinkling in his eyes lacked any malice or contempt. It de-aged him significantly. He looked like a young boy in a grown man's body.
She then noticed his shoulder-length dark blonde hair lacking any green and the laugh lines indented at the corners of his eyes and the adorable dimples that were struggling to smooth themselves down, and the fullness of his pink lips. Her fingers were itching to trace them.
What had the Celine in the kitchen struggling to hold back her laughter was the water that'd dampened his hair, sprayed his face, trickled down his chin, and left a wet spot at the center of his gray t-shirt.
"I think it's time to throw in the towel," she told him, hands dropping to rest beneath her armpits. "There's no shame in calling a plumber, Jack. You gave it your all. Unless you like looking and smelling like a wet dog. Then, by all means, continue what you were doing."
His eyes narrowed, but there wasn't any loathing in them. He licked at his bottom lip, eyeing her coyly.
"You ah…you think this is funny?"
She tried her best to remain serious.
"Not at all. The opposite of hilarious. Totally not amusing."
Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His expression was growing downright devious. Celine began to back away from him.
"Where ya going gum drop?" he groused, his movements panther-like.
"Figure I'll give you some time to-."
Before she could finish her sentence, Jack had shot up to his feet and made to reach for her, arms attempting to grab her around the waist. She just narrowly escaped his clutches, booking it in the direction of the living room with a startled shriek. Jack was hot on her heels and before she could pass the entryway to the living room, both of his arms managed to snake around her midsection and tug her backwards into him.
"Argh Jack!" she squealed as he picked her up and dragged her backwards into the kitchen. "I give up, I plead the fifth, consider this my surrender!"
Jack's shoulders shook from a chest-rumbling laugh. He tightened his hold on her, wet cheek pressing against hers. He emitted a throaty growl into her ear.
"Far too late to surrender, sweetness," he announced. "Serves you right for making fun of me. The question is…how to punish you for it."
"I'll be good I promise," she begged, twisting in his hold.
"Oh, I know you will be," he mumbled back, a hand skimming up her body and cupping one of her breasts. "Seeing as you're addicted to little Jack here-." He ground his crotch into her ass, causing her to stifle a moan, "maybe I oughta withhold him from you for the time being. Separation makes the heart grow fonder after all."
"You wouldn't dare," she challenged, attempting to peek up at him.
"Oh, I very much do dare," he argued back, eyes flicking down to her parted lips.
"Fine," she conceded. "But that means I'll be taking a trip to the nearest sex shop for a replacement. And believe you me Jack…with how creative and powerful modern-day vibrators are, you'll be very easy to replace. Heck, maybe I'll marry it instead of you."
This sent a shock to the actual Celine's system. It's not until this comment was made that she noticed the emerald-encrusted ring shining on her ring finger.
"He proposed?" she couldn't help but ask Agatha.
"Within a month of meeting you," she answered with a smile in her voice. "There was never any doubt in his mind you two were made for one another. Though Joker would give you the impression he's a confident man, this…this is what true confidence is. Acting on love despite the fear of getting hurt."
This resonated deeper than she cared to examine.
"Mmm…you strike a very dangerous bargain," he said, nipping at her ear lobe. "Perhaps we can come to some sort of…arrangement. You don't visit any sex shops and I won't burn any down."
Rather than be appalled, the Celine in Jack's arms started laughing.
"You're still not guaranteeing me the use of little Jack there." She pushed her backside into his hardened cock. "Try again."
He grumbled to himself.
"I thought I was the one negotiating here."
"Think again."
Before she could banter any further, he grasped the side of her face and tilted it toward him. Though his eyes were hoody and animated, a lazy smile continued to rest on his lips.
"Guess I'll need to prove to you there is no suitable replacement for me."
He pressed his lips against hers. She leaned fully into him, one hand sliding up and cupping the back of his neck, drawing him closer to her.
Celine watched them continuing to kiss, their breaths becoming ragged the longer they refused to detangle their mouths.
It wasn't until the image began to disappear that she realized there was prickling in her eyes. She released a shaky breath and removed her hands from Agatha's.
It took some effort composing herself. Her heart ached at what she'd witnessed. That…that was a Jack she could love. That was a Jack worth sacrificing her own reservations for. He'd been so youthful. Still holding a touch of that macabre humor, but with no real threat behind it.
But…that isn't a Jack that exists anymore. There is no returning to that. I may get glimpses of him from Joker, but that domestic sorta happily ever after isn't in my future with him.
This was sharply countered with:
What is a happily ever after anyway anymore? The American Dream? The one you have to be asleep to believe in? Who I am now…who Jack is now…we would never fit that white picket fence fantasy society encourages. I don't want that, I know he doesn't. Does that mean there isn't any hope for some sort of good outcome for us? Or am I not seeing all the options because I'm maintaining such a careful distance? Because I'm so convinced I know how this will turn out and maybe fear…being wrong.
On a more positive note, being in love looked good on her. Jack wasn't the only one's face she'd been studying. She'd had crushes…a high school buddy she'd have married in a heartbeat if he'd asked…but that'd been at a juvenile age when she didn't know better. A crush wasn't nearly as powerful as the adoration and serenity she'd witnessed on her face in that kitchen.
"I know you carry reservations, primarily toward his Joker persona…and…it is not an entirely separate identity like that of your friend John and the voice that is Scarecrow living within him. Joker is…a conditioned way of being," Agatha relayed. "It is who he taught himself to be out of necessity. And because so much of what he's done has been successful or proven his point, this persona isn't one he is willing to abandon so easily. Having gone so long in this conditioned state, it is inevitable finding his way out will be a struggle. But…he can at least attempt a balance between who he was and who he is. And watching you live life the way you do…unapologetically genuine, present and loving…it stirs in him a desire to find that balance too. For if he finds it, it brings him one step closer to you."
She shook her head, heart thumping heavily in her chest.
"I…I'm planning on turning him over to the police tomorrow."
Agatha finally opened her eyes.
"If that is what you feel needs to be done, so be it," she answered. "I only wanted you to be aware of the depths capable in the man you claim cannot love. It's wise of you to not be blinded by the feelings he brings out in you. But those feelings…they are there for a reason.…it is a matter of choosing what is in your heart and what is in your head. Neither choice will be easy."
She contemplated this. Could she really go through with betraying Jack after everything she'd learned about him? Agatha claimed she was making progress. Would turning him in forever destroy that progress? Was it even her responsibility to help him? He appeared quite content being Gotham's judge, jury, and executioner.
"If I…if I choose to take a chance on him," she tested out, "what's to prevent me from failing? What if I misjudge the depth of his feelings…let down my guard and let him in, only for him to massacre everything that's good about me?"
"You give him far too much credit," she deflected. "A killer he may be, but he is still a man capable of hurting and bleeding. And you are not powerless. You will do as you've always done…adapt and endure."
Hearing this eased her. The worry of meeting her end at his hands had been a prominent one. So prominent it made her forget she was capable of defending herself…as she'd done so in their first knife spar. Whether she'd win that skirmish again, she couldn't say, but Agatha was right, she wasn't powerless.
"This is insane," she mumbled out, massaging her temples. "The Clown Prince of Crime…Gotham's ever faithful terrorizer…one of my best friend's enemies…is…my…soulmate."
The moment she finally acknowledged it aloud, it felt as if a weight had disappeared from atop her chest. Jack…Joker…was her soulmate. He was her soulmate. They were destined for one another. A star died so they could be reunited one day.
She started laughing and didn't stop until she was gasping for oxygen.
Agatha watched on without judgment.
"I-I strangely…strangely feel better," she admitted, palming her red cheeks "Not any less confused, but better. He's just as rattled by this as I am…just…hiding it better. I…what's your takeaway from this, Ag? I'm…at a complete loss on how to go on from here."
"Well, your star signs-."
"Ugh."
Celine smacked her forehead.
Agatha bit back a chuckle.
"Yes, yes," she followed up, "I know how you feel about star signs…I've never been able to convince you on their authenticity, have I?"
"Nope."
And that was the truth. She'd tried reading her daily horoscope for a month but quit not soon after. In her opinion, it was the same advice, just recycled.
"Well, your star signs are as compatible as can be," she admitted. "He is an Aries while you sit on the cusp of Cancer and Leo. You both share the element of fire. Tenacity. Passion. Playfulness. Pride. His Aries' traits do make him a little more hard-headed than you…a little less willing to open up about their wounds. And this sign tends to have more…prominent sexual urges."
And here I just assumed he'd not been laid in a long time. Go figure he'd also fall under the horniest sign in the Zodiac. Yipee!
"You carry within you the element of water as well…the Cancer side of you. Empathetic. Emotionally intelligent. Sensitive. Reserved. To an Aries, these attributes…combined with those of your fire ones…cause him to feel naturally…protective of you. You…compel him most strongly."
Perfect. Next time he threatens me I'll just tell him "Hey I'm compelling as fuck to you, you dumb grizzly bear." Yep…that will go over very well.
"This brings me to mention something that is worth keeping in mind," Agatha added. "Jack has never had anyone to call his own. Having been deprived of love most his life, you are the only person who has ever brought out such intense feelings in him. Thus, it is unavoidable that he should begin to feel or already feels quite…possessive of you. He's well aware there are more suitable choices of partners for you. However, it is not in Joker's nature – who has never allowed obstacles to inhibit him from reaching his goal - to step aside and let the better man have you. So…exercise caution. His possessiveness comes from a mix of instinct and fear someone will try to take what he deems his…and that you will be receptive to it. He is not as uncompromisable as he portrays himself to be. His pride is capable of being wounded."
"Duly noted."
I guess considering me his wasn't delusion on his part. He'd said it was instinct that dictated it…he'd actually been right. He just didn't realize how much.
"You are compatible in every way there is to be compatible," Agatha continued. "And yet…trauma and years of conditioning will no doubt complicate your union. He will seek to push you away just as much as he wishes you nearer. I once told you it is on you to decide whom to focus your energy on…that there are those who wish a reprieve from their pain and those who relish living in it. Jack…he can swing either way. And that makes offering advice to you all the more complex. We have examined him currently, but circumstances could change his thoughts and feelings on a whim. I-...I truly don't know how to make this choice easier on you."
Celine nodded. At least she was being honest. No matter if he matched her feelings, he was still a risk. A very unpredictable one. It seemed like what it was all boiling down to was…was he worth it? Was she wandering toward someone she should be retreating from? And no one could answer that for her but herself.
"All I can say is…rely on what speaks to you from within," she advised. "You said you've been burdened by overthinking. Your soul knows this. It knows the threat Jack poses, especially to you. And it will not lead you blindly into danger. Now that all of this is out in the open…now that you have stopped denying your feelings…it will attempt its best to be in synchronicity with the rest of you. This, I feel, is what began the misalignment process. You are of course more than welcome to listen to logic…his track record speaks for itself…and your apprehension of whether he'll ever deviate from it, is entirely justifiable. But your soul…it cannot be denied…it wants to be with his. That is the downfall of such an extreme pairing. Should you both ignore what is naturally at work between you, your souls will only long for each other more. I don't know if that is any consolation to you…but…you have made it this far, have you not? Channeling into the voice within…spreading mercy as much as you are able …perhaps my age is getting to me…but surely the universe would not lead someone astray should they choose to pursue love. Especially one that is as rare as yours. I suppose…that is a belief I will choose to take on. I won't ask you to. Because I may very well be wrong and you may end up…killed as a result. And…well, Celine…the world will be a little bit less bright without you in it."
She was touched by this statement, offering Agatha her left hand. The woman accepted it, gripping it securely.
"Thank you, Agatha. You've yet to lead me down the wrong path…and I think I know…you can't guide me any further…no matter how much I want you to. I…I'm so grateful. I don't know where I'd be without you."
She smiled at this, eyes matching her gratitude.
"Trust your truth," she offered. "Lead with love, for that is your superpower. Be cautious, but compassionate. You are not your situation; you are your response to it. Don't fear failing. So long as you love, you cannot fail. So long as you try, you cannot fail."
Yet again, it felt as if pressure was being removed from her chest. She'd known this truth all along…encountering Jack just made her shove it down.
"Truthfully," she said after a minute, "when I turned thirty, I sort of…acknowledged to myself that I might be alone for the rest of my life. And it wasn't painful acknowledging this…I'm…not everyone's cup of tea. Plus…I fear…wasting my time on the wrong person. When you realize how short this existence really is…how vulnerable the human body is…it forces you to reprioritize what really matters. And romancing and being romanced…that just wasn't all that high up on my agenda. I…am…oddly comforted to learn we're connected on such a universal level. But…taking that leap…making that commitment…it's just as unnerving for me as it is for him."
"You are wholly deserving of love, my dear. And it is okay if you are hesitant on acting on that love…commitment of this type is rarely made easy. But…you will never know the happiness in store for you if you do not jump. After all, surrendering is a necessity to this existence, is it not?"
"It is," she agreed, comforted by these words. "And having learned all this, I can't afford to lose myself like that again. I need to begin meditating on the regular."
"Shall we then?" Agatha asked, extending her palms out again. "For old time's sake."
"Yes please."
They grasped each other's hands; a content sigh escaped Celine. Over a month ago, Hurricane Jack had struck her little island, depositing chaos, uncertainty, and a thick, heady fog in his wake.
Tonight, the clouds were finally parting, the rain lessening to a drizzle, and the sun attempting to peek out at her. She all but welcomed its warmth on her face again.
x_X_x_X_x
She ended up lingering outside of Agatha's storefront long after the woman had departed for the evening, content to pace back and forth. It was just shy of ten o'clock at night and her thoughts were hitting her all at once. There wasn't any franticness or urgency to them…she observed them as they passed, making note of what was helpful and what wasn't.
The first conclusion she'd reached was that she could not in good faith turn Jack in. Not after intimately glimpsing who the man beneath the makeup was. Earlier in the day she'd felt wrong about it. Now, that feeling had multiplied beyond counteraction.
Similarly, she had a strong hunch she was one of the few people to have developed some form of trust with him. With how far they'd come since their first encounter…dishonoring that trust would ultimately be more detrimental than helpful. This didn't mean she didn't want him caught…his capture would ease her mind considerably…relieve her from the burden of choice. Though she and Agatha spoke at great length about taking that leap, she still wasn't fully convinced to do so. There was too much to lose, seemingly little to gain if he was as in much denial as she guessed, and she wasn't quite ready to put herself into such an uncertain situation.
The second conclusion she'd reached was that she needed a break from Gotham. Now. Initially the trip to Maine was supposed to start Sunday, but in light of today's events – the deterioration of her and Bruce's friendship, learning of Martha's suicide and all those involved, the media storm underway, discovering who Joker was to her - she decided it couldn't be put off any longer.
First thing tomorrow she would start packing and then set off. Take no electronics other than her cell phone, which would mostly stay on silent. Nature had always held the ability to ground and recenter her…she wasn't going to drive nearly seven hours just to play on her laptop and scroll mindlessly on her phone when Maine in full bloom was outside her doorstep. Plus, she missed her old friends and aunts and uncles like crazy. Perhaps when she returned, she would have a better idea of how to navigate her relationship with Jack. Or maybe she'd stay in Maine indefinitely. The latter was certainly tempting.
She couldn't deny feeling a little disappointed upon not seeing any messages or call alerts from Bruce. It was appearing that their friendship had finally reached its point of implosion. It ached no doubt…but she also couldn't blame him, especially after this evening. If the roles were reversed, she too would struggle to remain friends with someone behaving so irresponsibly. She hoped he just needed time to cool off…but she wasn't going to hold her breath.
She did shoot a message to John. Just to clear the air.
I understand why you did what you did…thank you for thinking of me, I'm not ungrateful. However…if you ever go against my wishes again, consider this friendship over.
His response was immediate.
Understood.
She then shot a text to her Uncle Lucien, informing him she'd be returning to the house sometime tomorrow afternoon, and asking him if he'd be willing to turn on the water, gas, and electric for her arrival. She didn't hear back from him, but he had a habit of hitting the hay pretty early. He'd adhere to her request as soon as he saw it in the morning.
Another text was sent to an old childhood friend named Lisa. A bulk of the people she'd been friends with growing up still resided in Calgary Cliff. Their little group always tried to meet up a couple of times when she returned home, to catch up and partake in some shenanigans. It was a welcome distraction that she never not looked forward to, this time being no different.
Rather than text Stephanie, she ended up calling her to confirm that her package could be picked up a day early. The woman sounded as if she was chewing on something.
"Yah, tha's cool. Been meanin' to ask ya bout som'thin. Hit me up on yah way over."
When all the messages had been successfully sent, she set off in the direction of north Gotham. There was still one thing she needed to do.
From the moment she started walking, the feeling of being watched hit. She suspected there had been eyes on her the second she walked out of Agatha's shop, but had elected to focus on what was going on in her brain rather than her surroundings. After all, it didn't take too much guesswork to determine who it was. And she didn't think he'd choose tonight to end her life. It was strange how certain she was of it being Jack. But she knew him…knew the heaviness of his stare, the curiosity present in his gaze when he was trying to figure her out…he might as well have been shouting through a megaphone rather than silently creeping after her.
She should have been nervous, but meditating with Agatha had freed her of any worry or self-doubt. The situation was what it was. Her soulmate was stalking her at ten-fifteen on a Friday evening. Poor grizzly bear had nothing better to do. She'd have laughed but didn't want to tip him off that she knew he was there.
It took about twenty minutes to reach her destination. It'd been a brief scan, but at the funeral home she recalled catching the name of the cemetery Elle would be buried in. She believed she had the right place.
After scaling the sealed entrance, she got to work perusing the various headstones. It took roughly five minutes before she found the area home to the more recently departed.
Elle Cristina Graves
1991-2011
"In Times of Trouble May God's Grace Find You"
She knelt down onto the fresh soil, her bandaged hand brushing off some debris that'd gotten caught on the headstone from the earlier wind.
Save the wind, all around her was silence. Not even the faintest trace of a grumbling car or the voices of excited night-goers out and about.
Celine closed her eyes and bowed her head.
"Rest in peace, sweetheart. If you should come around on this planet again in another form, may your existence be easier than this one was."
She felt something brush her right ear. The wind momentarily died down. Eyes were still on her, but so was the unseen presence of the girl she was mourning. Sadness that wasn't her own coursed through her.
"Release. Release and go forth to something better."
Just like that, the wind picked up, and that sadness evaporated. She could feel tears threatening to fall, but that's all they did, threaten.
Not soon after, a noise sounded throughout the cemetery. It was enough to pull her attention away from her private ceremony.
Sighing, she grabbed her phone and sent a text.
Cough a little louder next time.
He'd not had the foresight to mute his text alerts. She could hear his phone ding from a few yards behind her. Followed by a muffled chuckle.
His response was near instantaneous.
Must say…you look good on your knees.
Stifling a groan, she rolled her eyes. Sensing he was somewhere diagonally behind her, she raised her right hand and stuck up her middle finger.
He was less careful at hiding his chuckles this time around.
Neither made the effort to continue texting. It seemed to be enough for him to know she was aware of his presence. She was just thankful he kept to the shadows. A face to face interaction was the last thing she wanted. Time and silence were needed to figure out how to go about with all the information she'd acquired.
When her knees started to cramp up, she pushed up and stood, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Risking a glance around, she found no sign of Jack. She knew he was still there…just not where.
A sudden burst of ambition struck her. Why on Earth was she making it so easy for him to stalk her? Why not make him sweat? Make him wish he'd not chosen a more convenient girl to become obsessed with?
With that in mind, she darted toward the nearest gate entrance.
She didn't think, only acted. Like a spider monkey on Adderall, she clawed her way up the chain link fence and hopped on down to the other side with an oof. Footsteps were nearing her quickly, the individual startled by the sudden hustle, but entirely willing to give chase.
Let him.
She booked it across the street, through an alley, veered through a pharmaceutical companies' parking lot, and then hooked a left so she was back to the street she was originally on to get to the cemetery. Her pace slowed until she was walking once more.
There. Let's see how well he really knows me.
She was nearing a bus stop and upon arriving, sat down on the bench to catch her breath. Her only companion was a small Asian woman furiously knitting what looked to be a baby blanket.
"I like the colors a lot," she told her by way of conversation.
The woman peeked at her, brows furrowing. When she responded, it was all in Korean. Sadly, Celine didn't understand a lick of it.
"Um…your blanket," she tried again, pointing at the blue and gold material. "I like it." She brought her hands together and formed a heart.
Instantly, the woman smiled. Her only response this time was a proud nod before returning to her work.
The bus arrived not even two minutes later. She and the woman each took the back seat on opposite ends. Up ahead some drunk frat boys were dozing off in a variety of uncomfortable positions.
It was when the bus hit the first stop sign that Celine looked out the window. A grin overcame her.
Jack had just jogged up to the intersection, eyes perusing each direction. He was outfitted in black dress pants and a hoodie overtop his dress shirt, vest, and tie. His green strands were glued by sweat to his face and his chest rose and fell as if he'd only just managed to gather his breath.
Even through a bus window, he must have detected being observed.
The moment his gaze locked onto her, she smiled crookedly before blowing him a kiss. His jaw going slack was heavenly to witness.
Not a second later and the bus sped up, leaving him to stare after the retreating vehicle, and the beaming woman inside it.
For someone who doesn't believe in soulmates, I sure do find that subject a reoccurring theme in my works. Maybe it's just my optimism battling out my pessimism?
I'm so excited to write the next few chapters as I've hit a part of my outline where I know a lot of what will happen rather than just typing mindlessly until I get from point A to point B. Shit's gonna get so good...I can feel it.
That being said, I'll be road tripping for a week at the end of May and into June. Hitting up the more sparsely populated areas (i.e. keeping away from people) all around my beautiful state of Michigan...primarily to do some deep-woods hiking and rural exploration of abandoned houses, farms, schoolhouses, cemeteries, churches and what have you.
So, the next few chapters might not come out until maybe early to mid-June? I want to get it out as accurately as I've got it in my head and not rush anything.
I hope all of you are still doing well and are in good health. Your guys's comments and kudos have been the fuel to my fire...to all the times I just wanted to throw my laptop out my window cos I'm so sick of going through the same chapter over and over to edit and edit and edit and edit and ed-.
Thank you so so much and please take care : )