AN: Happy Early Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it). Hope you all enjoy. Thanks for the reviews =) Just to remind ya'll, this is obviously a Nolan-verse fic based off of the Killing Joke's characters.

Warnings: This is merely a reminder. This is a dark fic. There will be cussing and dark themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Batman

Bewilder: verb/ cause of (someone) to become perplexed and confused.

"Your name is Jeannette Kerr?"

Jeannie's brow shot up. "How did you know?"

Jack smiled evilly. "I looked in your medicine cabinet, and I saw your prescription bottle."

"What the hell, Jack! What are you doing snooping around my medicine cabinet?" She set her tea cup down and tossed her hands in the air out of anger.

He shrugged. "I'm sure you would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed." Without skipping a beat he continued. "You have an injury?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes."

He nodded. "I figured since you have a prescription of Norco and medical tape. What happened?"

She sighed heavily. She was angry at him for violating her privacy, but he had a point: she would have done the same thing. "I injured it dancing. I tore some ligaments and nearly twisted my knee cap clear off."

Jack sat forward, his interest peaked. "Dancing?"

Jeannie nodded. "I had a full ride to Juliard." She shook her head still in disbelief that it had happened. "I was a dancer. And a damn good one too." She ran her hands through her long hair, pushing some strands back out of her face. "My dancing partner and I were practicing for a performance… it was a particularly hard move, one where I'd run and jump into his arms then he'd flip me in the air and then help me land. We did it dozens of times and we nailed it each and every time…" She shook her head again, the memory running through her head. "I executed it perfectly, but when I went to land, he didn't have a tight enough hold on me and l landed wrong." She picked up her tea mug again and took a needed sip of tea. "Although I healed, I still suffer from pain, and my right knee is much weaker than my left." She laughed ironically. "It was my life. My escape…from everything."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the two taking in what was just said. Jack could tell, both from her body language and the way she spoke about her injury that it meant a great deal to her, her dancing, not her injury.

"I had to come home. I was useless at Juliard. Looking back, I was a complete idiot for coming back to Gotham. I should have started a new life somewhere else…I could have avoided so much shit if I would have done so." She sighed. "I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"How's that?"

She shook her head at him. They had been talking for a couple of hours now and they were on their second cup of tea and had moved to her couch, where Jeannie was again bundled up in her fluffy blanket, and Jack sat on the chase lounge part of the couch next to her. It was about 6:30 in the morning, but you couldn't tell by looking outside. It was still snowing heavily and the sky had lightened a little, but not by much. They had switched on the news, which was on mute at the moment, but from the scrolling words at the bottom of the screen, all schools were closed, as were most businesses and the monorail system. The snow wasn't going to let up anytime soon according to the forecast.

They both were running out of things to ask the other, besides the hard hitting ones that both were avoiding.

"If I answer this question, then I expect you to answer my question."

Jack leaned his head back on the couch as he considered her ultimatum. "I see we've reached the end of the road with our softball questions." He peered at her, giving her a contemplative look, his eyes gleaming. "Are you sure you're ready to go down into the rabbit hole, Jean-nie?"

Her face hardened. "Like I said Jack, I'm already in the rabbit hole."

Smirking, he lazily rested his arm on the back of the couch. "Proceed."

Jeannie closed her eyes. She hadn't talked about this to anyone. Ever. It was too late to turn back now, and who knows, speaking about it, to somebody, may help her. Throwing caution to the wind, she scooted just a tad closer to Jack.

"When I came home to recover from my injury, I attended a lot of my mom's cocktail parties, and that's where I met the bane of my existence, Ryan…"

She told him everything. Every single detail. Everything that Ryan did to her, how bad her injuries were…everything.

Jack was no stranger to what life can throw at you. And although he beat people up for a living and on occasion killed them, hearing what Jeannie had gone through for over a year…well, it didn't sit well with him. It wasn't like she was the only one that was beat and raped by their significant other, and usually he wouldn't bat an eye at their agony. But knowing Jeannie had gone through such events, it made him want to hunt down this Ryan asshole and end him…hell, even torture him before he did the deed. He had to pat himself on the back, though. Like always, he called it. He knew she was hiding behind her smile, hiding a horrible past. And even now, he knew the pain ran deep…maybe deeper than she knew.

She paused for a moment, and Jack watched as her eyes clouded as she looked off into the distance. She closed her eyes. "He was constantly trying to knock me up…and he had." Her last sentence was just above a whisper.

She finally looked at Jack, her brows furrowed and her mouth downturned into a saddened and angry frown.

She looked at him as if she was wondering if she should continue, and even though Jack wanted to know everything she had to say, he wasn't about to push. Jack was a patient man, so he sat and waited for her to continue.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, Jeannie finally continued. "I ran, when I found out. There was no way in hell I was going to allow Ryan to abuse my child like he did to me… but I wasn't smart about it. He was able to find me two weeks after I had fled." She ran a hand through her long hair, something Jack noticed she did when she was distressed. "He beat me." She chuckled. "Of course. But he made sure to kick me a few times in the stomach for good measure, effectively making me miscarry."

"Why?" Jack asked, not able to hold back the question. "I thought he was trying to knock you up, so why do it?"

Jeannie shrugged. "Who knows. He had told me a few days later that he'd just try again, and that I had learned my lesson. And I did. A few actually. The second I could go, I went and got on birth control pills and took them without him knowing."

"What else did you learn?"

"How to hide."

Jack didn't feel as cool and collected as when she first started her story. He was sitting up now, and even though he kept a straight face, his fists were opening and closing, and his jaw muscle was pulsating. He so very much wanted to dig his hand into his pocket, take out his knife, and stalk the streets until he found this Ryan...

He refocused on Jeannie. Her eyes were hardened, just like the other times where he pushed her patience. "And your parents did nothing?" He asked.

She laughed an ironic, loud laugh. "Are you kidding? My father demanded I go back to him and apologize for what I did. He said that if I'd just shut my mouth, maybe things like that wouldn't happen. And my mom, well she was pissed because there wasn't going to be a wedding and because my face was beat to hell and it made her look bad."

"Wow." Jack murmured. "That's fucked."

Jeannie shrugged and shook her head. "My parents are assholes." She yawned. She was exhausted from working all night and staying up the better part of the morning talking with Jack.

"Not compared to mine."

She perked up. "Spill, buddy." She was thankful to not be talking about herself and the shit she had to live through. And, it did feel good it talk about it, even though Jack hadn't said much while she told her story, but his usual stoic facial expression faltered, especially when she told him about the very last beating she received from Ryan.

Jeannie yawned again and rested her head on the couch cushion, her eyes slightly drooping as she got comfortable.

Jack watched her as she slowly started to fade. "I think I'll tell you some other time." He too rested his head on the back cushion of the couch. They were facing each other, but their legs were respectively tucked away, so not to invade their personal space.

"You promised." She slurred as her eyes finally fell lazily shut. "Don't hold out on me, jerk."

He snickered and couldn't help his eyes shut as well.

The smell of coffee woke her. Her eyes slowly opened and was surprised to see a cup of steaming cup of coffee, with cream already mixed in, in front of her nose.

She blinked rapidly as her eyes focused to the light that was streaming in from the outside.

"Rise and shine, cupcake. It's noon."

Jack sat next to her once she took the mug from him and sipped out of his own mug full of much needed caffeine.

"Already?"

"Mmhmm." He grunted. "We fell asleep around six this morning. Oh. By the way, you snore."

Jeannie nearly spit the mouthful of coffee out of her mouth. "I do not!" She squeaked. How embarrassing!

"You do." He smiled widely at her and snatched the remote from the coffee table and put it on the GCN.

"-clear skies for a couple of hours and then the snow storm continues. So if you need to run to the store or do some running around downtown, now's the time to do it. You can expect the snow to start up at about four this afternoon. Back to you Vicky."

"You're welcome to stay." Jeannie said, hurriedly, sounding a bit desperate. She enjoyed Jack's company and wasn't ready for him to leave.

Jack smirked and looked over to her. "Sorry cupcake. I gotta go to work."

She frowned noticing that he was in his clothes that she had put in the dryer the night before. "More club owners to stab?" She asked dryly.

He shot up from the couch in a quick, graceful manner and then tapped his chin playfully. "Nnnnope. No club owners. A couple of greasy lawyers and a banker." He flashed her a toothy grin as he jumped up from the couch and walked towards the front door.

"Hey, when do I get to hear your story of darkness?" Jeannie asked, following close behind him.

He opened the door and twisted around to face her. "All in due time, Jean-nie." He reached down and pinched her chin playfully. "Alllll in due time."

Jack went straight to Cobblepot's club to drop off the envelope he got the night before from Hammett, and after receiving his week's assignment and his pay, he went home. There wasn't much for him to do since the snow storm was going to start back up…but he couldn't help but feel instantly bored. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon, he had absolutely nothing to do, and he dreaded the thought of being cooped up in his apartment for the next day or so while it snowed. He rarely spent time at home. He only stopped by to change into fresh clothes or to catch the rare nap. But it was useless for him to go out and conduct business, seeing as he'd be stranded by the time he got the job done, due to the storm.

He walked aimlessly into the kitchen and groaned. He had absolutely no food, save for the can of pork n' beans and Vienna sausages that were in the cupboards since he moved in a few years back.

And god help him, he actually felt…lonely. He grimaced at the thought. Jack did just fine by himself; he learned that fact when he was just a child. It's why he was the best at what he did and it was why he never committed to a relationship.

He knew why he was feeling that way though. It was because he had spent the night and the better half of the early morning talking with Jeannie. Damn that girl. She was getting under his skin, and he wasn't sure if he liked that fact or not.

Before he put much thought into the hair brained idea that popped into his head, he dug into his pocket and searched through his contacts until he found her name and he had to do to a double take when he found it.

Jeannie =)

He glared at the name with the happy face. She did it on purpose, obviously.

With a roll of the eyes he hit 'call' and waited for her to answer.

Jeannie reluctantly put down the worn copy of The Watchers and blindly grabbed at her phone, not bothering to see who was calling.

"Hello." She sighed, continuing to read.

"Jeanette, darling."

Jeannie closed her book. "Mom?"

Her mother's titters made her cringe, and she contemplated hanging up on her. "Who else would it be?"

"What do you want, Mom?" Jeannie asked blandly. It wasn't until recently that she started talking to her, and it was by default. Her mother and father somehow talked her grandmother, the only family member she voluntarily spoke to, into giving them her phone number.

"Oh, don't give me that attitude young lady, honestly Jeannette."

Jeannie stayed silent and waited for her mother to continue, not really in the mood to have a back and forth with her.

"Anyway," she continued. "I'm officially inviting you to our holiday party next month."

"Oh goodie." She said with fake excitement. "I'll pass."

"But Grandmother will be there. She so very much wants to see you."

She groaned. Her mother knew exactly what she was doing, she knew she'd come just to see her grandmother…but still, she truly didn't want to see her mother, and especially, her father.

Her mother took advantage of her silence. "I'll give you two weeks to decide. Give me call by then."

"Fine. But don't get your hopes up."

"Ta ta, Jeanette darling."

Jeannie hit the end button and tossed her phone on the couch in disgust and put both hands in her hair and pulled all the while trying to keep in a scream that she so very much wanted to let loose, but like everything else, she stuffed it deep down and locked it away.

As she started to stomp out of her living room and into her kitchen, her phone started to ring again. She paused, contemplating just letting the thing go to voicemail, but thought better of it and snatched it from its resting place where it had landed.

To her surprise Jack's name was splayed across the screen of her iphone.

She was so flustered with excitement and curiosity that she dropped her phone. "Shit!" she muttered and grabbed it again and slid the answer bar.

"Hello?"

"Jeannie?" Jacks smooth voice rang through the receiver, giving Jeanie goosebumps.

"Jack." She replied.

There was a pause and Jeannie imagined him smirking at her smart ass reply.

"I've an idea…"

An hour and a half later, Jeannie stood at Jack's door, arms full of groceries. She kicked his door twice since her hands were full and juggled the paper bag full of food so not to spill it on his stoop and waited for Jack to answer the door.

She heard, rather than saw, Jack open the door and sighed in relief when one of the heavy bags were taken from her.

"Made it just in time." He greeted and opened the door wider for her to come in.

The snow had just started to fall when Jeannie left the store and thankfully Jack's apartment was just a block or so away.

She followed him into the kitchen and set the rest of the bags on to the drab tile countertop of his kitchen. She quickly scanned the area and could tell Jack didn't really care about his home. Not that it was dirty. It just was dull, barely decorated or furnished, and from the looks of it, barely lived in. She slipped her backpack off of her back and put it on one of the two chairs in the kitchen.

"I hope you like soup." She smiled and started to empty the paper bags full of her purchases. "You sit down and start talking, and I'll start making dinner." She slapped his hand away from one of the bags that had the double-stuffed Oreos and pointed to the kitchen table.

He huffed but did what he was told and sat down, his stomach already growling at the mention of food. And from the looks of it, Jeannie got some good stuff. He smiled to himself. His idea of having her come over to cook for him in exchange for him telling her his story already was a win in his mind. He was getting a hot meal out of the deal.

"What's in the bag?" Jack asked, kicking it lightly with his foot as he sat down.

Jeannie looked over her shoulder and then continued to organize ingredients on the counter. "Clothes. I kinda figured I'd be staying here, since the snow has started up again."

Jack nodded. "I see." He leaned forward and started to tap his fingers as he thought about a question that he had wondered on his way home. "Did you want to kill him?"

She froze, keeping her back turned, and Jack could tell all the muscles in her body tensed up. She slowly turned around, the knife she was about to use to slice up onions still in her hand. "Of course I wanted to kill him. Who wouldn't want to kill the person who made their life a living hell?" Her brow furrowed and she gave him a look like he was an idiot for even asking the question.

He ignored her obvious annoyance. "Then why didn't you? I would have." He said smoothly.

Her lips pulled up into a sneer. "Because, Jack. I'm not a murderer. I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt…" She turned back around and started to dice up the two large onions in front of her. "Even though the bastard deserves a slow and painful death." She hacked at the vegetable with a little too much force. "Enough about me for a while. I want to hear about you."

He let out a small chuckle and grabbed his deck of cards that were on table top and started to shuffle. "What do you want to know."

"Mmmm, let's start with your childhood. I believe you said it sucked. Elaborate."

Jack pushed air out of his pursed lips. He didn't really want to tell her…. But she'd spilled her guts, and he was a man of his word…

"My father was a drunk and all around fiend. He liked to beat my mom up… a lot. I think I spent most of my younger years with a blackened eye or an arm in a sling." He sighed and continued to concentrate on his cards, keeping his eyes on the deck, ignoring the fact that Jeannie's chopping had stopped and he could feel her eyes on him.

"You stop cooking, I stop talking."

He waited until she turned around and heard her start up on the onion again. He went on to tell her about his less than loving and downright horrible childhood.

His life wasn't easy.

His first memories were of violence. It's how he learned how to defend himself at an early stage. One would have to if their father was a raging alcoholic and their mother wasn't strong enough to fight back. It's how he got stuck in the foster system at such a young age, after his father hit his mother too hard and killed her. Jack Napier Sr. was thrown in prison and none of Jack Jr's close family had the means to take care of him... or flat out refused.

He was only five when that happened and was either in the shitty state run facility for foster children or being bounced around from one home to the other.

Sometimes he'd get the foster parents that just didn't give a rats ass about him and his foster brothers and sisters, sometimes he'd get the abusive ones and sometimes he'd get the loving parents that showered him with gifts and love, but those types were few and far between.

Being that he was a bright child, he was the target of many bullies. But many of the bullies found that Jack was a fighter and could hold his own in a brawl. His outstanding intellect and his tall, lanky appearance made him seem as though he was week. Many of the facility workers had compared Jack Napier to a wasp; he would never attack unless provoked, and if he was provoked, he'd attack until he dropped.

It went on like that until he took matters into his own hands…

"I became a runaway. It was the best decision of my life."

Jeannie, keeping her word, continued to prepare she and Jack's dinner. "How did you survive on the streets?"

Jack shrugged as he flipped a few cards in the air in a fancy manner and caught them. "I do well by myself. Always have."

"How old were you when you ran?"

He smiled, remembering like it was yesterday. "I was thirteen. Sammy and I were in a particularly shitty foster home-"

"Wait. Who's Sammy?" Jeannie interrupted.

Jack looked at Jeannie's back, annoyed that he had been interrupted. "Sammy is my oldest friend. Shut up, I'm telling my story."

Jeanie huffed and tossed the remainder of the ingredients of the soup and started to stir.

"Our foster parents at the time were real pieces of shit. All they wanted was the money they got for each kid they took in. And since Gotham is such a shit-ass place to live with more foster kids than they can handle, they had six of us at once. And just like most foster families I got the honor of being placed in, they didn't give a shit if us kids were properly fed or clothed; they used the money for themselves, not for us. So, me and Sammy snuck out of second story window when everybody was asleep and from then on we lived by our own rules."

"And what rules were those?" Jeannie asked as she crossed the kitchen.

Jack gave her an exacerbated look as she sat down across from him and pointed at the stove.

She held up her hands in defense. "It needs to cook for a while, geesh!"

He rolled his eyes. "We did what we want, whenever we wanted."

"How did you eat? Where did you sleep?"

"Sammy and I were well fed," He shrugged. "we became real good at pick pocketing." He grinned. "It's how we got our jobs we have now."

Jeannie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him like a disapproving mother would a child. "What exactly do you do, Jack?"

He cocked his head. "I thought you already figured it out. Remember, embedded scissors in your sleaze ball boss's hand?"

She rolled her eyes. "I just want clarification. What's your job title?"

Jack shuffled his cards again, and splayed them across the table in one motion and then grabbed the last card and flipped it over, making the rest flip over in a fancy domino effect. "I don't have a job title per-say." He shrugged. "Most people would call me a goon…" He looked up at her and smirked at her. "I collect money from those who owe my boss money, by all means necessary. I also run security for the boss and other various tasks. But mostly I collect."

"By any means necessary…" She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips at him.

"Scissors. Hand." He replied glibly.

She bit her lip. "Have you done more than that?"

He looked at her, slowly smiling a mischievous, almost evil smile. "Ah, and here we are, Jeannie. We've arrived at the million dollar question. The question of all questions that will define our little," he waved his hands, motioning between himself and she, "relationship."

Jeannie shook her head. "And I already told you, I'm already down the rabbit hole."

His smile grew larger, making Jeannie feel uncomfortable. The smile made him look like he almost had a screw loose and reminded her of Stephen King's movie, It. The exceptionally creepy smile and the razor sharp teeth was something made of nightmares, and the look in the clown's eyes was clearly psychotic.

"You're asking if I killed? Yes. I've killed. Now ask me when I killed for the first time."

Deep down Jeannie knew. There was a vibe that Jack had that told her he was a dangerous man. But sitting there, in his home, at his kitchen table, making him her grandmother's famous zuppa tuscana, she didn't feel the least bit afraid for her life. Unnerved, maybe. But not scared.

She lifted her chin, in an almost defiant motion, telling him she wasn't backing down. "When did you kill for the first time?"

"I was fourteen years old."

Her eyes widened. Fourteen? He was living on the streets since he was thirteen and not a year into that life, he had killed somebody? When she was fourteen she was daydreaming about David Boreanz and getting home in time to catch TRL on MTV, not fending for herself on the mean streets of Gotham and certainly not killing people to boot.

"Why?"

"Why did I kill him? Oh, well." He gathered up his cards and started shuffling again. "I saw a man late at night stumbling out of a bar and figured he was an easy mark. He had a nice suit on, he was well kept. So I brushed past him and got his wallet. I can still remember what was in it too. Four hundred in cash and a platinum Visa card, and wouldn't you know it, the pin number written on the back. That's hitting the jackpot right there, especially for a fourteen year old boy living on the streets." He shook his head. "Anywho, he must not have been as drunk as I assumed because he felt me take his wallet. He kicked my ass and apparently he wasn't above stomping my head into the concrete, so I did what I had to do. I took out my knife, and stabbed him. Square in the chest." He told his story in such nonchalant way, as if he was discussing the weather.

Jeannie remained silent for a long while, soaking in what Jack had just told her. They were really born from two different worlds… but both shared a dark, albeit different past. But she was trying to live a normal life, and it seemed Jack threw caution to the wind and was living life exactly how he was when he had run away from his foster home. Except now, he got paid to do, essentially, what he had to do to survive on the streets.

"Did you feel any kind of remorse?"

Jack's mouth turned downwards as he thought about her question. "No. Not particularly."

She merely nodded. She knew she should gather up her things and get the hell out of there. But, again, the strange feeling of being safe and not being in danger was not present. The more she thought about, the more, dare she say, was somewhat intrigued, and maybe a little turned on. She blushed and got up suddenly, and went back to the stove to stir the soup that was simmering away, so not to embarrass herself.

As she stirred, a thought struck her, and the answer he might give did scare her. She slowly put the wooden spoon down and turned around to face her once more. "Do you beat or rape women?"

Jack froze and after a few beats, he placed his worn deck of cards on the table and looked up at her, the wicked smile, gone. "Beat, yes. Raped, no."

Her jaw clenched at his answer.

"I can count on my hand how many women I slapped around. They were all clients of my boss. Women that tried to skip town with out paying or down right refused to. Remember Jean-nie. All means necessary. But, in my defense, I did give them many, many chances to pay up. And they all attacked, or in some cases, shot first. " He stood up and slowly stepped towards her. "None were significant others of mine." He stopped right in front of her, his face stone-like as he peered down at her. His emerald green eyes searching her light blue one's, gauging her next actions, and when she didn't make a move to leave or lash out, he tentatively moved his hand up to her face, letting it hover over her cheek and then finally, rested it on her pink cheek, his thumb lightly moving up and down.

His hand was so warm on her cheek, making the rest of her body feel ice cold. She distantly wondered if his whole body was that warm, or if she was really that cold. She shivered and did all she could to stop herself from pulling him up to her.

"I can't imagine why someone would want to harm you." He said in a harsh whisper. His other hand covered her other cheek and the warmth made her shiver again, but this time the shiver went from her cheek all the way down to the depths of her stomach, giving her butterflies. "You really should have killed him, Jeannie. Only a sadistic man would do the things to a beautiful woman like you."

She was speechless. Not only because of Jack's unexpected affectionate caress, but his words, too. And still, the scales were definitely tipping significantly towards 'I am really liking this guy'.

But a small voice in her mind was screaming at her to get the hell out. He was dangerous. He beat people up for a living, and on occasion, murdered them. Any other normal person would have been heading for the hills by now.

But, unlike the feeling she had with Ryan, even when she first met him at her mother's cocktail party, she felt utterly safe with Jack.

It was bewildering to her.

He stepped back, taking his warm hands with him. He shook his head and looked down at the floor, as if he was wondering what the hell he was doing.

She exhaled and turned towards the soup again. "Dinner will be ready soon."

beta'd by: Springandbysummerfall