I missed House so I could get this out tonight. 'Cuz I'm cool like that.

Well, I've discovered a way that'll force you to examine your writing and the way you view it, and possibly force you to change your views on a story that you once thought was the greatest you'd ever written, albeit violent: show your story to your somewhat prudish writing teacher.

Seriously, she was blushing over the first page in Chapter 2 because of Jackson's endearing terms for the jock's girlfriend (though, to quote one fellow student, "What, you're getting worked up over that?"), and she says she felt ill when she read the part about the Exacto knives. And that's only Chapter Two. Which is a pretty tame chapter, when you consider the fact that,

a: no one dies

b: no one fucks

c: no one is critically injured

This is worrying me more than it should. And my friend isn't exactly helping by telling everyone in earshot that I'm writing "the gay incest story" (coughSparkofShadowcough).

On the other hand, I now have thirty people who now own shirts that I designed the logo for. Which is pretty neat.

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THE ONE WARNING: There are no warnings. I think we've been over this before.

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Disclaimer: Who are these Wes Craven and Christopher Nolan people, and why are they attacking me with sledgehammers?

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A Twisted Kind of Brotherhood

Some Flirting, and the Improper Use of a Rosary

It was only an hour or two after he had first met Anna that Jackson found himself wandering through town with her, wearing the mask of a helpful tour guide as she held his hand uncomfortably, adding a layer of awkwardness to the situation.

She had been impressed by the chivalry of the kind neighbor boy, grateful for the aid he provided as her family moved into the house. And her parents, watching from afar, had seemed relieved that their daughter could make friends so easily in their new town. The bodyguard had seemed emotionless, watching Jackson in such a way that made him wonder if the man could read minds.

The presence of a bodyguard had certainly heightened the level of awkwardness. When Jackson had invited Anna on the tour around town, he'd followed them the whole way, not even attempting to appear nonchalant or inconspicuous. He was about seven feet tall, which was more than a little intimidating to the short, scrawny Jackson. Anna hadn't even seemed to notice that he was following them, until Jackson asked her who the giant was that was following them. She had toyed with her hair, glanced away, and mumbled, "That's my uncle Joey. He's kinda protective."

Hearing her lie outright to him had angered Jackson. The sneaky attitude towards the truth reminded him far too much of his mother, smiling sweetly as she lied through her teeth to her husband and children. This womanly method of deception enraged him to no end. Jackson had almost lost his temper then and there, but the seven foot tall man with the handgun that was twenty feet away deterred him from being rash.

In any event, as they wandered through town, no one would have suspected that they were anything but a normal teenage boy and girl. No witness to their wandering would have thought that they were a Mafia princess and a newly-hired assassin.

After passing through the center of town, Anna turned cheerfully to Jackson and asked, "So, what else is around here?"

Jackson shrugged. "Not that much. There's a shooting range down a bit, but not really anything else." He smiled with faux sheepishness. "It's a small town."

Anna smiled back. "That's OK. I'm used to small town life."

Jackson feigned ignorance, asking curiously, "Where are you from?"

Anna rolled here eyes. "Vermont."

Walking slowly towards the woods as naturally as he could manage, Anna right alongside him, Jackson teased her. "Sounds like you highly recommend it."

Glancing behind her to see that her "uncle" was still behind them, Anna replied, "We didn't even really live in a town. We lived in a house in the middle of nowhere, and the closest village had nothing but a grocery market and a few craft stores."

"Sounds fascinating."

As he led Anna past the fringe and into the area dense with trees, Jackson couldn't help but feel that he was leading Anna and "Uncle Joey" into home territory. He and Jonathan had memorized these woods together, turning it into their kingdom for the taking. Anna and her guardian were merely lost children, their eyes blinded as they made their way throughout an unfamiliar realm. It gave him a strong upper hand, and he knew he could use it to his advantage.

Turning to Anna, Jackson grinned mischievously. "You see that stream up ahead?"

Anna looked to see said stream about a hundred yards in front of them, past dozens of tree trunks and sprays of foliage. "Yeah…"

"Race ya!" And with that, Jackson was off, dodging trees like an expert as his long legs carried him nimbly through the all too familiar territory.

"Hey!" Jackson heard a loud crunching of dead leaves as Anna started off, and it was only a second or so later that Jackson saw her enter his field of vision before overtaking him as they dashed past the thick tree trunks.

Anna reached the stream first, with Jackson arriving a mere second later. Laughing, Anna declared, "I won!" before her legs gave out. Jackson tried to catch her as she gracelessly collapsed, but he was only dragged down with her, and they landed awkwardly on the stream bank.

Giggling, Anna leaned on Jackson as she sat up. While she did so, Jackson glanced back to see "Uncle Joey" bumbling his way through the trees, slowly progressing towards them.

Jackson grinned. This might not be so hard after all. Part of him was disappointed that he needed Sal's say-so to do the job. With adrenaline coursing through him, he felt like he could take on a thousand Mafia princesses.

And Anna seemed to trust him. Behind those sickly-sweet doe eyes she made at him, she genuinely seemed to like him. Hell, she liked him enough to put herself at risk. She'd endangered herself by allowing him to lure her out of the firing range of her bodyguard for a childish footrace.

…what a stupid girl.

Standing up, Jackson said, "C'mon, let's keep walking."

Anna nodded, still catching her breath. Holding out her breath, she implored him, "Help me up."

Jackson complied, grabbing her wrist and yanking her upwards. Unfortunately, Anna's legs hadn't quite recovered from their footrace. As soon as she was upright, she leaned on Jackson for support. Unfortunately, Jackson hadn't expected this, causing them both to fall backwards into the stream with a tremendous splash.

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Jonathan watched as Leon drove away from the Arkham parking lot, the car seeming to grow smaller as it made its way through the side streets of the Narrows. There was a strange look on his face as he watched him go, unreadable to an observer. However, considering the way the muscle in his jaw kept tightening, someone could easily assume that he was rather pissed off at someone or something.

As soon as Leon's vehicle had disappeared from sight, Jonathan stormed through the parking lot. When he reached his car, he flung open the door and slid into the driver's seat without a glance at anything but what lay directly in front of his eyes. After shutting the door behind him, he gripped the steering wheel tightly in what appeared to be an attempt to calm himself down. Gritting his teeth slightly, and without turning his head, Jonathan muttered, "Hello, Jackson."

Cheerfully, Jackson replied, "Greetings, Scarecrow," noting the fact that his brother refused to look anywhere but directly forward. Something told him that Jonathan had been a bit surprised by his appearances.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Jonathan glanced over his now wig-less, contact-less, wrinkle-free brother. Biting his lip in irritation, Jonathan remarked, "You're looking much younger since last I saw you."

"Really now? And how so?"

"Well, I suppose that the complete lack of wrinkles would help. Not to mention losing the blonde wig and the contacts."

Jackson chuckled lightheartedly. "What gave me away?"

"The scar on your throat."

The smile on Jackson's lips vanished, though he tried his best to appear unfazed. Running his thumb over the bright mark, he replied calmly, "I guess I'll have to work on that."

"And why, may I ask, do you feel the need to follow me in the first place?" Jonathan asked, impatience mounting in his voice.

Jackson shrugged casually. "I wanted to check up on you, Scarecrow. See what little brother's been up to all these years."

"And why would you want to do that?"

Once again, a grin played across Jackson's face as he leaned back and crossed his legs. "Curiosity. And a complete lack of any kind of schedule. You'd be amazed by the amount of free time a person can have in one day."

Starting the engine and putting the car in drive, Jonathan merely answered sardonically, "Really now."

The playful, malevolent grin still upon his face, Jackson waited until the car was driving down the back roads of Gotham before inquiring loudly, "So who's your boyfriend?"

Although Jonathan refused to dignify the question with a response, Jackson could tell by the way he cringed slightly that he'd touched upon a sore subject.

"No reply, Scarecrow? Or are you embarrassed?"

Calmly and emotionlessly, Jonathan answered, "He's a coworker. We went out to discuss a patient's case."

Lying down causally across the backseat, Jackson said, "Sure, that's it."

"He's a colleague. Surely, you'd have noticed that if you've been following me around Arkham." Jonathan stared icily at his brother through the rearview mirror, venom lacing his words as he added, "Or are you just jealous, perhaps?"

"What, that I don't have a boyfriend like yours?"

"You know that's not what I mean."

When Jackson gave no reply for several seconds, Jonathan checked the rearview mirror to look at him. However, the way that Jackson lay across the backseat, his face was blocked by the passenger-side chair. Eventually, though, a reply arose, the words phrased coldly and sardonically.

"I wouldn't attach too much significance to us, Scarecrow."

Jonathan let it drop there, not wanting to continue with that line of conversation. Instead, he returned to their previous topic of discussion. "I don't want you following me anymore. And if you're feeling rebellious, I'll remind that I can always kick you out."

With a loud sigh, Jackson answered, "If you insist. You're worried that I'll stumble in on you and Dr. Warren again?"

Trying to keep his cool as best he could, Jonathan stated calmly, "We're meeting again tomorrow to finish discussing a patient. We'd have done so today, but your little intrusion cut us short."

It was unfortunate that Jonathan could not see Jackson's face through the mirror, as he would have wanted to see the interesting expression he wore when he heard that last piece of news.

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After their graceless fall into the stream, Anna and Jackson had quite a time trying to get to shore. Luckily for them, the stream was shallow and slow-moving, decreasing the difficulty of their journey. After a few minutes of splashing, they managed to climb back onshore with a minimal amount of struggle. After that, they had been forced to walk back into town dripping wet. Part of Jackson's sixteen year-old mind had hoped that certain aspects of Anna's anatomy would be a bit more visible as a result, but her padded sports bra dashed these particular dreams.

In any event, the two had a good laugh about it as they made their way back to Anna's house. Or, rather, Anna had a good laugh while Jackson barked out forced chuckles as he inwardly bitched about the fact that he'd managed to fall into a cold stream in December right before nightfall.

Not to mention that "Uncle Joey" was now hot on their tail once again. He hadn't arrived quickly enough to be of any help when they fell in the stream, but once they emerged, he didn't let them out of his sight for a second. His intimidating presence annoyed Jackson, furthering his irritation over the events of the evening.

As the sun set, they continued their travels in the direction of the Napolitano house. Neither of them was wearing a jacket, so they both shivered badly. Jackson kept his focus on trying to appear amiable, while Anna merely made jokes as she played with a tiny plastic necklace around her neck.

After watching her toy with the band around her neck for several minutes, Jackson asked her abruptly, "What is that, anyway?"

Anna stopped her toying and blinked, surprised. "What?"

"That necklace. What is it?"

Anna stared down at the beads between her fingers and smiled a little. "It's a rosary. My uncle gave it to me."

Glancing behind them, Jackson said, "You mean the one fifty feet behind us?"

Anna laughed a little. "No, another one. My uncle Tony. He lives in Chicago, so I don't see him very much."

Jackson vaguely remembered Sal's words about Anna's mafia boss uncle living in Chicago, and he realized that she was referring to the man who might be responsible for her death in a few days time. It put him in a slightly morbid mood, so he shoved those thoughts out of his head.

Anna continued, the beads pressed tightly into her palm. "When I was seven and I had my first Communion, Uncle Tony pulled me aside in the church and gave these to me. He told me, 'Anna, I love you, and I want you to stay safe. But I won't always be there to watch you, so I want you to have this rosary.'"

Running her fingers over the tiny figurine of Christ on the crucifix portion of the string of beads, Anna murmured, "He told me that if anyone ever tried to hurt me, it would send an angel to protect me." She smiled. "And if the angel doesn't work, he said that a devil will come and kill whoever hurts me."

Jackson smiled grimly, processing the information she had given him. "Sounds like your uncle cares about you."

Anna nodded. "He does." Looking up at the road in front of them, a look of disappointment came across her face as she saw her house only a few yards away.

Relieved, Jackson said, "Now that you're home, I suppose I'd better get back to my house and dry up."

Anna nodded, looking at Jackson longingly. "Okay." She paused for a second, biting her lip. Jackson merely stood there, waiting for her to say something, until he was suddenly greeted by Anna's lips planted firmly on his own.

Half a second later, Anna was running towards her front door as fast as she could, cheeks burning with embarrassment as her legs sped her away.

Jackson merely stood there and shook his head for a second, ultimately deciding that the female gender was positively insane.

Walking back to his house, he pored over the events of the day, trying to figure out a plan for when the time came to do the deed. He knew for sure now that she liked him, and that she'd trust him enough to ditch her bodyguard, if only for a few seconds. That was all he'd need to do what was necessary.

Outside of his house, a beaten-up Jeep was parked by the curb. Jackson gazed at it for a moment, recognizing it and realizing its significance. Glancing around, he tried to spy a familiar figure, and it was only a few seconds before he spotted a man sitting off to the side of his house, sipping at a bottle of beer as he sat in the grass.

Approaching him, Jackson wore a blank, cold expression as he muttered, "Hey, Sal."