You & I

Chapter Seven:

Mine

No sleep, no chance, no need
Forget about it
One life, live free, big dreams
We're all about 'em

You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here
You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now

- You & I - Crystal Fighters

I'm not sure whether those two days of freedom were given to us on purpose by Theo, or he had spent those two days thinking up a way to introduce us to the public. Either way, I lavished in those days of freedom. I ate. I breathed in the fresh (polluted, musty) air of Gotham, I showered until my skin was red raw and I googled every name of every person I had ever known.

None of the girls who bullied me ever amounted to much. Good.

You thrived in Theo's presence, more so than I had ever seen you do with another person. You personality shifted somehow; your smiles were wider and your eyes just a little darker. You were somewhere where you were appreciated and needed and known for your expertise: doing the unexpected. You laughed and fought back against the others in a way that you had not done in Arkham, because you knew that out there, in the real world, you were the one they should be scared of.

I'm getting ahead of myself. We need to backtrack to the hours after we arrived.

It was on the first day, the day we gathered in the dining room and spoke of what we were, what we would become, that everyone dispersed and Theo called for me (me?) to stay behind with him. You looked at me and smirked, the corners of your mouth rising in a knowing manner. Apparently, it did not surprise you that Theo thought me important enough to talk to me alone. I suppose this made sense, in a way. You, Jerome Valeska, would not fuck around with someone who was not worthy, right?

Greenwood, on the other hand, had sneered out of the room, very nearly pushing Tabitha out of the way. As I settled back into the chair at the long, grand table opposite Theo, I watched as Barbara and Tabitha round the corner together. It didn't take an idiot to realize what Barbara's intentions were there.

'Madeline,' said Theo Galavan, a smile settling onto his face. He clasped his hands in front of him and set his dark eyes on my face. He was an odd man, wasn't he? Almost robotic in his nature. 'I suppose you're wondering why I've kept you here'.

I blinked at him. 'Obviously'.

Theo had laughed, much to my relief. Sometimes words just fell out of my mouth when I really didn't want them to, you know? I still didn't know what kind of man Theo was, and until I did I really didn't want to get myself killed because of my sharp tongue. 'Yes, yes. Now, you may have noticed that Barbara has stayed rather close to my sister, Tabitha?' This time, he didn't give me time to answer. 'This is because I am saving her for later. I believe, without a doubt, that the women of this...group, shall we say, are the real performers'.

Then why the hell had he, earlier, said that I was to be grouped with the men? Not that I minded. I really didn't want to have to spend lots of time with Barbara and Tabitha.

I continued to blink at him. 'Have you ever heard the saying behind every man, there is an even greater woman?' And then it made sense. I never told you that he said any of this to me, did I? 'Jerome is brilliant; the most brilliant out of all of you, I hope you won't mind me saying. But then, there is you. You think, don't you? Jerome hacked his mother to death with an axe, but you finished yours off with a kitchen utensil to the throat'.

I shrugged. 'Less mess'.

'And that's why you're smart'. Theo stared at me, mouth a straight line. 'Do you understand what I am saying?'

I thought of you. I thought of your intelligence, but also your maniac tendencies. I thought of your watchful eyes, but also your big, smiling mouth. I thought of your quick hands, but also the mess they could make. I didn't like mess, and what Theo was asking me was quite clear. 'You want me to make sure he doesn't make a mess,' I replied 'You want me to be the smart one'.

Theo smiled easily. 'You read my mind, Madeline'.

It was almost like he didn't quite trust you. This was all I could think about as I made my slow way back to your (our? our) room, head spinning and mind stuttering out the conversation that had just occurred. Perhaps the man was just careful in his work. Perhaps he wanted to give me a purpose. Perhaps he saw what we were, and stupidly assumed that you would listen to my advice. Perhaps he assumed I had any other advice to give other than go Jerome, kill.

People always did take my quietness as just an ounce of sanity.

It wasn't hard to see the Theo liked things to be perfect. It was told in his home, his persona, the very way he spoke. He wanted us to cause mayhem in Gotham, but he wanted it to be perfect. Butwhat gain did he have from it? To become some kind of King of Gotham? Most likely. And we were his servants - his jesters.

You were staring out of the wide open window when I entered the room, dressed in a white, button up shirt and black slacks. Theo had already told us that come our first appearance in two days, we would be changing right back into those black and white stripes. 'For effect,' he had insisted. You were all about that too. When Theo had said that, I had seen your mouth twitch into that little smirk.

You didn't turn when I walked in, nor when I locked the door tightly behind me. 'I think he just wanted to know me more,' I told you, the lie falling off of my tongue easily. 'So he can know how to use me'. It wasn't a whole lie, was it? That was kind of what Theo had been doing when he spoke to me - finding out who and what I was.

You scoffed and laughed and unwound your shoulders, twisting away the kinks. 'Y'know, Mads, I think I might have thought of a way to, uh, open the show, if you know what I mean'. You looked over you shoulder at me, waggling your brows. At my blank expression, you tutted and waved a hand. 'Never mind - I'll tell Galavan later'. You whirled around and stepped toward me, hands coming up to cradle my face. 'I gotta tell you - it's gonna be a blast!'

You peered at me harder. 'Well, ain't you bein' a moody Mads today. Smile for me Mads!' I did, wide and toothy and entirely fake. You saw this, of course, but still applauded me for my efforts. 'I've seen better from you, Mads, I won't lie. Now, you want me to put a real smile on that face?' You grinned, a little laugh coming from deep in you throat. 'Well, not smile'. You pressed your cheek against mine, mouth close to my ear. 'Maybe...moan'.

No. I'd felt too...subordinate that day already. I grinned a little bigger then, pulling my face away from yours quickly and piping up, 'Me first, Jerome'. Me first, indeed. I raised my hands, running them quickly over you shirt to brush away the imaginary dust. I felt like having fun, Jerome.

You clenched your teeth and smiled, looking down at me as I undid every button on your white shirt with precision. 'You know, I think Theo's really going to make Gotham kneel, don't you think?' I peered up at you, stopping midway down your shirt. 'He's good, isn't he? Smart, charismatic, good looking - everything he needs to bring anyone their knees'.

Your smile was, unsurprisingly, gone. Payback, bitch.

I smiled, looking down to finish up the job of your shirt. With one finger, I trailed an invisible line down your pale chest, trailing along light hairs and defined muscle. 'A real man'.

That. The punchline.

Your mood changed quickly in a way that portrayed to me, finally, the man that you could be with me. You hit away my hand and grabbed at my chin (not gently, like you had done before, but with quick and hard fingers), forcing me to look into your dark and mad eyes. You spied me out, mouth bared into a grin that could almost be mistaken as a growl. 'You're mine, beautiful - remember that?' I continued to smile. You dropped my chin and grabbed at my hips and pulled me closer to you, hair falling out of its form. 'Remember how I tasted you and made you?'

I laughed a little. 'I was always this, Jerome'. I kissed your nose. 'I just had no reason to be anything until you came along. But don't, not for a second, think that you made me'. I smiled at you. 'I made me'.

I kissed you and I bit you, making sure you knew exactly who was in charge at that moment. You allowed me to do so, and that was why I loved you. You bit back and kissed my neck, holding me closer and closer and muttering dark things under your breath. I wondered what you thought of when we touched like we were then. I wondered if you had ever fucked another before me. I never asked you, but a big part of me knew you hadn't. The Jerome that you pretended to be before you killed your mother wouldn't have slept with pretty girls.

I pushed your shirt away from your shoulders, appreciating how easy it was for you to hold me in place. You tasted metallic and sweet at the same time, and you smelt like gunpowder and cigarette smoke. 'You're mine too,' I reminded you, pulling away and looking hard at your face. A sliver of blue in your suddenly black eyes. A tinge of red along your cheekbones. Lips that were red and puffy from my biting. 'I rule you, just as much as you rule me'.

You grinned, a little laugh escaping you as you twisted me around, ignoring my annoyed yelp. You lowered your head just enough so that it was level with my ear and pushed me back into you, my back to your chest. 'Such strong words,' you purred into my ear, teeth grazing the skin. 'I knew I'd like you, the moment I saw you'. You reached around my hip and tugged at the button on my trousers. 'I don't always like people, Mads. Y'know, when they're not fucking, drinking, spending or conforming - I guess they can be alright. So you. Should. Feel. Special'.

I countered you. 'I bit the last guy who touched me. I bit him so hard that he needed stitches'. I worked at my jaw, heat pooling as your hand reached into my jeans and fingers-fingers- 'You should feel special'. My voice was breathy, and you knew you had done your job. You slipped your fingers to that bundle of nerves and played there, waiting for me to meet you where you wanted me. After a minute, I was wet. After a minute, I was flushed and leaning back into you. After a minute, you pushed me forward and lead me to the window.

'Jerome,' I very near whined. We hadn't fucked yet, you know? For once, I was growing impatient. The cold air hit me and cooled down my moist, hot skin as Gotham - all of Gotham - lay below us on its knees.

You continued to work at me, muttering words into my ear and resting you chin at my shoulders. I was panting near the end of it, even more turned on by the feel of your hardness pressing against my lower back. Your hand moved faster and faster, working and working until I was leaning my head back into you, moaning and groaning as you licked at my neck and- and-

You stopped.

'Not yeeet,' you sang. I could have killed you, do you know that? I could have literally thrown you out of that window and not even thought about it again. 'You're gonna come when I want you to come, beautiful. Where I can see you'. You. You. You. I huffed and turned to you, pressing a hand flat against your chest and pushing. 'I like it when you're rough,' you said gruffly, still smiling away. Why did you always smile? Why couldn't I just undo you like you had me, so many times?

I pushed and pushed until you back onto the bed, legs hanging over the side. You were still hard, and the image of you like that did nothing for my self control. The heat in my lower abdomen burned with want; for something to fill it, but I knew I had to play you. You'd get bored otherwise, wouldn't you? I had liked it more, anyway. The wait. The cruelty we shared in teasing, biting and fucking with each other. I never really enjoyed fucking someone until I met you.

I pulled off my trousers in front of you, but you probably remember how I'd nearly tripped out of them. Perhaps you'd assumed I would come for you straight away and crawl on top of you and that would be that. No, no, Jerome - did you not realise that if you treated me shitty, I'd treat you shitty right back? And Impulse...oh, Impulse was telling me to make you fuckin' beg.

Once my shirt was discarded onto the floor, my bra followed soon after. Had I ever been so bare in front of you? Unlikely. I couldn't remember. Most of our sessions in Arkham were blurs of hoping to not get caught and making sure I didn't accidentally turn on the dryer with my foot. You watched me like a snake, ready to pounce and I had smirked at you like the predator who had feigned being the prey. Very slowly, mouth opening only a little, I slipped my hand beneath my underwear and continued where you had left off.

All I had to do was look at your face (pink cheeks, red lips, messy hair and dark eyes) and I was very nearly where you had left me. You leaned forward, watching me like I was a precious bird, like if you looked away for once second I might just fly off. You touched the side of your face, nearly pinching the skin at your cheek in frustration. And I had loved it. Who else could I do this with but you?

You'd had enough, apparently, because when a small moan left my mouth you had leaned forward, grabbed my wrist and yanked me to you with such force that I fell onto the bed on top of you. 'Point fuckin' made,' you growled, yanking my hips and pressing them hard against yours. You were on your back, and I had every intention of keeping you there as I pressed my palms flat against your chest.

'Good,' I had laughed, eyes wide and teeth shining.

I made quick quick work at your belt buckle, whereas you simply yanked and yanked at the thinnest part of my underwear until it was shredded away. That would, most likely, bruise.

We were a mess of yanking and pulling and growling at each other when we hurt the other. Who cared? Who cared? You touched every inch of me and I rose above you, only lowering myself when you were ready and bare before me. You held me in place and finally - finally - you filled me up. I gasped and groaned and moved against you, only slowing down when I felt fit to, when I knew you were very into it.

'Beautiful,' you had murmured, dark eyes gazing up at me. 'I might have to kill ya if you don't speed it up'.

I smirked, leaning down to kiss you full on the mouth and meeting the movements of your hips with my own. It was odd, to get back into something so intimate after so long. My hips had been jerky at first, as if I didn't quite know how to move them. I felt like a virgin. Ha! What an innocent term for someone like me, huh?

'Mads,' you groaned, swearing and cursing and digging your fingers hard into my behind.

I'm not sure how it happened, but the next moment you had twisted the both of us around, and it was me with their back pressed into the soft comforter. Everything after that was a mixture of my own swearing, sweating and gasping because - Lord - that position had been one hundred percent better. With your moist forehead pressed against my chest and your hips ramming into my own (my joints would hurt later, that's for sure) you told me I was your Madeline.

Not in the possessive sense that we threw around so often, anyway. I think it was the closest form of affection I will ever get from you.

You pulled me up and I went with you, adjusting myself onto your lap as your moved up into me and I moved down onto you. I kissed and kissed and kissed you, licking away the salty taste of your sweat and biting hard at your shoulder when I knew I was being too loud. It was with the bite at your shoulder that you came, hips jerking and eyes screwed shut. You pressed my hips down hard into you, hissing through your clenched teeth and muscles flexing in your arms. The only sound in the room, for just a moment, was the heaving of both our breaths.

Then you moved again. And again. You moved despite your end, hand reaching around and playing at me, the other burying into my dark, frizzy hair and bringing my head forward so you could kiss and suck at my neck. I was oddly flattered. You cared enough to make me come. And I had - I hadn't been faking for you, y'know. I would have applauded you for your efforts, but I had been too tired. Breaking out of Asylum and vigorous sex? It does a person in, Jerome.

You dropped me next you and, upon meeting my gaze, smiled like the world had finally fallen to your feet, dead.

'Turns out we're just good at everything, aren't we, beautiful?'

That one was hard to get out for some reason, dunno why. Anyway, I'd like to point out that I'm not trying to make Mads/Jerome's relaionship something to aspire to. It's a pretty fucked up one, for the both of them. Far too many death threats for it to be normal. This was all set during the first of Theo 'saving' them from Arkham, as there is 48 hours between that and the 'bodies dropping off of the building' scene. Excited to write that though!

Thank you so much for the reviews! Over 50, yay! I hope to get the next chapter up a bit quicker. Adios!