It's evening and Jackson's has called it an early night. He retreats to a room on the upper floor he declared "his". It's basically empty, with one sad looking mattress on the floor and a few old boxes filled with God-knows-what. I have to talk to Jack about buying some furniture. However, the question of furniture is linked with the question where we will actually live, and that question is furthermore linked with the question about if we will live together at all. So, having in mind that the getting my son a decent bed could result in being separated from his father-again, I am a bit hesitant to address that topic.
It's stupid, really. Ever since I lied my eyes on Jack again, just a couple of days ago, when he so quickly responded to the trail of bread crumbs I have put all over Gotham, I have mentally and emotionally travelled back to my 16-year self. I'm helplessly in love with Jack, and even this off-putting Joker persona he sometimes uses can't scare me away. As if I never have left, I find my place by his side, nestled under his arm when we sit on the couch, splayed all over his side when we sleep in bed. My gut feeling tells me that this is it, for the long run: we're an item. However, my 32-year-old motherly side needs a bit more security than that. No matter how desperately I want to wrap myself around Jack and never let go, my priority still is Jackson. If he decides that he can't stand his father, I will have to do what's best for him. But boy, he'll have to actually not only clearly tell it, but yell it!
Jack's long arms immediately wrap around me as I exit the bathroom, and I smile and kiss him on the nose. His eyes twinkle mischievously and a light smile graces his lips. He took that damned grease paint off, but there are still traces of it on his jaw line, accentuating his handsome features.
"Stop it", I roll my eyes and try to wrestle my way out of his arms.
"What? I wasn't doing anything!", he laughs a bit as he effortlessly blocks my attempts to leave, and also pinches my butt repeatedly.
"You're giving me that look…", I giggle as he dives his nose into my hair and starts sniffing like some crazed dog.
"What look…", he asks knowing very well what look I'm talking about, "I was just…checking out the shampoo you're using. I'm searching for a new scent for myself, you see..and this, hmm, strawberry you use might just be the thing for me"!
The idea of the almighty Joker breaking into banks and threatening people's lives all while a delicious strawberry smell waffles all around him makes me laugh out loud. He laughs, too, his exploring hands never leaving my body.
"Ok, ok…I'll let you use my shampoo, how about that?", I giggle, and then my eyes fall to a newspaper that is carelessly thrown on the floor. It's just a few days old. My eyes widen in surprise, "Is that..Rachel?"
He immediately lets me go, and I pick up the newspaper with Rachel's pretty face printed on the front page. My initial smile at seeing my old friend after so many years quickly falters as I read the head title "Assistant DA dead" and a smaller one, "Joker's newest victim".
"Jack?!", I stare at him in disbelief, "Did you do that? Did you kill Rachel?"
"I sure did", he nods his head, his facial features now calm and serious.
"Why would you do that? She was my friend, don't you remember?", I take a step back from him, hurt and even a bit scared. I always act under the presumption that he is normal and reasonable. But he isn't.
"Oh, Sonja", he snorts a bitter and short bark of a laugh, "She wasn't. She sure as hell wasn't your friend."
I just stand there, trying to understand what's going on. He takes my hand and pulls me towards our bedroom, and completely ignores the slight resistance I'm giving him.
"You have no idea…no idea at all", he sighs as I sit on our bed, throwing him accusing looks, "Just sit there and listen for a while, ok? And then judge me, if that's what you want."
He lies down on our bed, without touching any part of my body. He inspects his hands for a while and smiles lightly as I start showing my impatience by tapping my hand on my knee.
"Did you ever wonder how the cops found us?", I hear his raspy voice behind my back.
"Not really. We were young and stupid. We should have moved to another place. Off course the address where I was registered would be the first place they would check. We were basically sitting ducks.", I say in a demure tone.
"Ah! Talk for yourself!", he lets out a short laugh, which annoys me.
"What do you mean-you got caught along with me!", I turn to him, rolling my eyes.
"Yes. But-t…I knew back then that they would check this place out first…so I pulled a few connections and actually changed your residence. And, of course, at that other address I had some people who were paid to tell the cops that you moved to Atlanta, with your aunt."
"But…I was here, with you. So, they would check Atlanta and probably come back here, right?", I feel like I'm missing something.
"Of course, they would. But thing is, as soon as they would check your whereabouts in Gotham at your 'new address', those guys there would give me a heads-up. We would be gone in the next hour, and the cops would have no idea where to go from then on.", he smiles, remembering his crude, but effective plan.
"So, what? Your guys didn't give you a heads-up, then?", I wonder.
"They didn't..because the cops never came to their place.", his smile becomes cold, "Even though your official residence was on the other side of town, they still came here, knowing they would find us here."
"But how?", I ask, but a terrible suspicion start to waken inside of me. Jack looks at me with his intelligent eyes, and he nods as he recognizes the realization and the disappointment in me.
"Yes, yes", he nods fervently, "Your great friend Rachel. Apparently, you told her about our little plan of you not returning to Croatia and staying with me. And your friend Rachel, and her lover boy Wayne, they decided that such a good girl should not be wasted on such a scumbag like me. In their opinion, our time was over."
I fall silent, realizing the horrible mistake I made 16 years ago. I shouldn't have trusted Rachel. Jack used to warn me about it, but I didn't listen. I just wanted to have a female friend, someone to share my secrets with.
"Are you sure?", I ask quietly, "Rachel knew how much I loved you. I mean, we spent hours talking about our relationship and everything…she knew that I would be miserable without you. She wouldn't hurt me so..would she?"
"Oh, she would", Jack says angrily, "She would. And she had encouragement from Wayne. He always hated my guts, so he took care to persuade her, if that was even necessary..."
"But how do you know about all of that?", this whole thing still doesn't make sense to me.
"Here's the whole story", he sighs, shaking off his apparent anger and finds a more comfortable position, and that is with me under his arm, "So, when the cops got us…and separated us…I got beat up..like rarely in my life..senseless. Anyhow. I woke up in white room, chained to a bed..I thougth it was a hospital, but it turned out it was an asylum."
"Arkham, I know", I take his hand and give it a little kiss.
"How in hell do you know that?", he is truly surprised.
"Long story. I searched for you..I will tell you later", I smile at him and then demand, "Continue."
"Hmm…Arkham. Lovely place. You get regularly beaten up and they feed you the funniest medication.", he sighs, pretending as if he is remembering something nice, "Some of those meds, they changed something in me, you know? You can literally feel yourself coming apart. You can feel yourself becoming insane."
I shiver a bit at that and look at him with easy readable questions in my eyes. He laughs in a way that doesn't really help that much, but I also have this small feeling that he is trying to scare me a bit, just to keep me in line.
"So, between getting beat up and going crazy, they still leave you some quality alone-time, and I used that time to think", Jack continues, his handsome face bearing a telling smirk. That dork was really trying to intimidate me. Successfully., "Not that it took me long to realize what happened. You know I never liked your friends. And after two years, when I got out, I asked in a few favours and actually got a copy of the police interview with sweet Rachel and brave Bruce. Hah! She actually claimed to be protecting your best interest, and he pinned the craziest stories on me."
I feel anger bubbling inside of me, because I start to realize what Rachel and Bruce have actually done to us.
"Sixteen years", I say, numbly, "They made us lose sixteen years. I didn't know if you were alive or not. If you were still in that terrible place, Arkham. You missed Jackson being born, his first steps, his first word…he was such an adorable baby, Jack!", I start crying, sadness assaulting every cell in my body, "I was so scared! And so lonely! If it weren't for Jackson…I wouldn't have made it. And all this pain and misery..because of those two jerks who think they can decide on how someone's supposed to live their life! Our Jackson grew up fatherless because of them!", now I sob, and then a though hits me like a ton of bricks, "Where were you?! If you got out after two years-why didn't you search for me? Why did you leave me alone?! Why did you wait so long to call for me..?"
"Sonja, I would have searched the fucking world to find you!", I feel his hands around my shoulders and he shakes me a bit to get me to snap out of it, "The police file, about our case – you know how I had it brought to me to see who ratted on us - contained a note, saying that you're deceased. Some car accident, just a few months after you came back to Croatia. So I thought you were dead! And then, years after, I'm eavesdropping on these lawyers, and they talk about what sorts of files are admissible and what can and can't be part of a police file. And I remember how strange that note seemed, about your death, so I broke in the police archive, and checked the files yet again…the note disappeared. It was obviously put in there to keep me from searching for you."
"When did you find out that I'm alive?", I ask him, my nose running, embarrassingly.
"That was a few years ago-", he starts, but I cut him off immediately,
"Few YEARS ago?!"
"I wanted you to come when the time was right", he shrugs his shoulders.
"What does that even mean?!"
"It means, once I'm done killing every single bastard responsible for causing me not to know that I have a son. For sixteen bleeding years.", he says darkly, "Once I have this corrupt city in my grip and start squeezing it mercilessly. Once I have all I need to be sure that this time, I get to keep you, forever."
"So, I'm early, then?", I actually smile a bit through my tears.
"Come again?", he rises an eyebrow at my question.
"Well, as far as I know…Bruce Wayne is still alive.", my smile broadens, and I feel something evil bloom inside of me, and I welcome it with open arms.
"That's the spirit", Jack joins my malicious smile and leans in to kiss me.
A/N Hey there, I hope you like the new chapter-this pretty much sums up the past, and from now on, we're turning over to future events, with a heavy focus on Jackson as well as the relationships in the crazy little Napier family :) How about I get them a dog?