A/N: First and foremost, this is an INCEST story. So it goes without saying that there will be consensual sexual and romantic content between Jerome and his sister.

I posted this author's note in recognition of triggers. However, if you continue to read past this knowing that incest is a trigger for you, than that ceases to be my issue.

If a soft side of Jerome is something you can't stomach, steer away. Jerome is his happy, homicidal self in this, but he is in an incestuous relationship with his sister and cares for her deeply. She is the only person he harbors any softness towards and the only person he always keeps at his side.

"But I have always known I couldn't live without you. That is a constant, like the sun rising in the east or my having five fingers on each hand. That is love, Lucia, and it doesn't go in for showy swooning or pretty phrases or extravagant gifts. It is plain and deep, like the sea when no one is looking at it."

Cesare Borgia to Lucrezia Borgia

Close.

Unnaturally so, but close nevertheless.

That was how the Gotham Gazette reported on the relationship between the Valeska siblings, Jerome and Nika, after their arrest for the murder of their mother. Any investigator or journalist worth their salt could detect, within mere seconds of observing the two, that their bond went beyond undying loyalty or mere sibling affection.

There was love between them—the kind of love most people only dream about, a rare bond so deep that those who sensed it felt an inexplicable chill, something as beautiful as it was disquieting.

They were likened to pairs infamous for the intensity of their devotion: Bonnie and Clyde. Mickey and Mallory Knox. Lucrezia and Cesare Borgia.

Names Nika herself had written about, names she had woven into the pages of her journals. To her, they were all love stories. Tales of loyalty, of kinship forged by choice and by blood. It was in those same journals that Detective Jim Gordon would later learn the truth about Jerome and Nika's relationship—an all-consuming, intertwined devotion that both grounded them and dragged them into the darkest places of themselves.

In Nika's eyes, Jerome was an angel. He was beautiful and pure, and the things he did in life—even the darkest acts—were touched by something beyond mortal understanding. To her, Jerome's actions were only shadows cast by her own, reflections of a truth she believed to be deeper, eternal. In her journals, she wrote of the shadows spreading in her brother, yet she spoke of them dreamily, the danger he posed only strengthening her reverence, making him more perfect in her eyes. She could chronicle his darkest acts with a kind of romantic awe, as if even his worst sins held an innocence, a sort of righteousness that she felt no need to question.

Further into her journals, however, Nika's own shadows seeped out, filling page after page with haunting sketches and verses that hinted at her deepest desires. Each page seemed darker than the last, all but stained by her loathing for her mother, by her vengeful imaginings against those who had hurt Jerome. In her writings, she held nothing back—no horror was too raw, no sin too shameful to reveal. Her words showed no remorse, only the dark pride of a protector whose love knew no restraint.

Jerome's journals were another story. Messier, violent, full of fevered ramblings and half-finished sketches, his entries were as intense as his sister's but rougher, like ink spilled in anger. His feelings for Nika, however, were unmistakable, raw and unfiltered, a declaration of the same depth of love, shadowed by rage and untempered by sentimentality. His sins, his gruesome vengeance against those who harmed his sister, were painted with the same energy, standing in stark contrast to the innocent, almost boyish charm of his face.

The journals were inevitably handed over to Dr. Hugo Strange, head of Psychiatry at Arkham Asylum, where the Valeska's were now fated to spend their days.

Separated indefinitely.

Jim couldn't help but suspect that Strange might try to bend the judge's ruling. Bullock, standing with him outside the courthouse as Jerome and Nika were escorted to the waiting car, had warned him not to mistake Strange's interest for compassion.

"I'll bet you my salary it's only because he's pissed that the judge's got his hand in that nut hut of his," Bullock huffed as he watched the haughty Strange follow the siblings to Arkham in a separate car. "No. He wants those two together."

Jim turned, his brow furrowed as he studied his partner. "For what reason?"

Harvey shrugged, glancing at the reporters as they dispersed. "Beats the hell out of me. Strange has always given me the creeps. Wouldn't surprise me if he's tickled pink at the idea of having siblings in an incestuous relationship in his asylum."

Jim tucked his hands into his pockets, the chill of the air biting as he exhaled, watching his breath cloud the night air. "Every time I think I've seen it all, Gotham throws something new at me."

Bullock chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Oh please. Matricide with a side of incest? That's not even the weirdest thing we've seen this week."

Jim let out a frustrated sigh, staring ahead at the police lights cutting through the dark. "What possesses someone to do that?" he muttered, almost to himself. "To sleep with their own sibling?"

Harvey arched an eyebrow, regarding him thoughtfully. "I'm not defending it," he said carefully, leaning against the car, "but what else were they supposed to do?" He met Jim's gaze, holding up his hands as if to ease his partner's judgment. "From what I could tell, the Valeska's were outsiders, even in the circus. Most of the workers turned a blind eye to what Lila did to her son. From what Nika told me, some of Lila's lovers—even the workers—joined in."

He paused, the weight of his words hanging between them. "Who else were they supposed to turn to for their emotional needs?" He dropped his voice to a near whisper. "Most people have someone to go to. Jerome and Nika… only had each other."

Jim studied his partner, taking in his words. As twisted as it was, he could sense the truth there, the grim reality of a bond forged out of love and pain. The logic made a dark sort of sense, and though he couldn't approve, he found himself understanding, if only in part.

They continued their walk to the car in silence, the faint echo of the city around them. And as they climbed inside, Jim couldn't shake the feeling, the wish, to know more. To go back somehow, to witness what had driven the Valeska siblings down the winding, dark path that ended at Arkham's gates.

A/N: This was just an introduction chapter. The rest of the chapters will take place in chronological order for the events of the show with my own spin. It will start from their childhood and lead into the show.

I hope you enjoy the re-write. Reviews are appreciated and loved.