Heath Sketches From Yesterday

Heath sketches from yesterday <3

Wanted to try oil pastels and inspiration struck 🖤

I'm having a Korn marathon right now since I couldn't go to the concert 😭

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Eleven - I'll Take A Quiet Life

Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Jack's daily life as a shell shocked former soldier, struggling to function.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading guys! We're down to five chapters left ☺ Btw this is several months later. At this point Jack has been in Gotham for almost a year.

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

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Nestled comfortably underneath his covers and clinging to his pillow, Jack slept peacefully. His curly hair was sprawled out on the sheets going in different directions. He wore a dark sweatshirt, his boxers, and purple socks. All that could be heard was the quiet hum of air passing through the vent on the ceiling above and his soft breathing. Such blissful sleep was a rare occurrence so he treasured every minute that he could get it. 

Sunlight peeked in through the curtains and streaked across his face, shining on the bridge of his nose and highlighting his freckles. The light hitting his eye brought him out of the comforting embrace of sleep and woke him up. He sat up groggily and rubbed his eyes, his messy hair falling over them. With a yawn, he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth while he was there, proud of himself that he remembered to do it. 

Jack decided to skip his usual morning workout and instead walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. He opened the refrigerator and scanned the shelves for something to eat, eventually choosing sausage and two eggs. He cut out two patties from the sausage roll and put them on a frying pan on the stove, turning it on and adjusting the heat.

While he waited on that to cook, he cracked the two eggs into a bowl and whisked them with a fork. Once the sausage was done, he used the same pan to cook the eggs and scrambled them, adding in some black pepper.

He moved the food to the table once it was done and grabbed some juice from the fridge. He didn’t bother with a cup because he would obviously be the only one drinking it so he just drank straight out of the container. Yet another sign of his growing carelessness. 

As he ate, he glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall from across the table and noticed some writing on the current date.

Oh shit, rent’s due today.

Shaking his head, Jack finished up his breakfast and put the used dishes in the sink. He went back to his bedroom to change his clothes so he could go downstairs to pay the rent. He had to get a grip. Whatever this spell in his life was, it was causing him to forget the most basic of tasks and he normally wasn’t forgetful at all. Maybe it was the military man in him but he liked being timely and getting things accomplished.

After he threw on something halfway decent, he grabbed an envelope filled with cash out from his junk drawer and his keys. He left his apartment and locked the door behind him, taking the stairs so he could avoid people. Once he was downstairs, he approached the landlady’s office and knocked on the door.

“Mrs. Vernon?” Jack called out, shocked at his own voice which was slightly hoarse from disuse. 

“Come in, dear!” The eccentric redhead responded. 

Jack opened the door and stepped inside. He had to really hide his reaction when he saw what Lydia was preoccupied with. She had her black cat on the desk and was measuring it. There was a pile of purple and orange yarn beside the cat so Jack assumed it was to make clothes for it. 

The landlady smiled and sat the tape measure down. “Just finishing up Sylvester’s measurements. Whatcha need?”

“Uh, rent’s due so here you go.” Jack said and handed her the envelope from his pocket. 

“Oh that’s right. Thank you, Jack. If only all my tenants were this punctual. Sometimes I have to pry it out of a few of them.” Lydia chuckled.

Jack nodded.

“Are you doing alright, Jack? I haven’t seen you out that much.”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” 

Ha. Lies. 

“If you say so. I’m here if you ever need anything. Just give me a call. Oh and you have mail by the way.”

Jack took a few steps towards the door and turned to leave. “Thanks, Mrs. Vernon.” He said over his shoulder.

He breathed a sigh of relief that the interaction was over. Another task completed. He walked to the other side of the lobby where rows of mail slots lined the wall. He found his and unlocked it. Inside it there was a check from the army he had been expecting for this month and a few envelopes of useless junk mail. He shoved them into his pocket and shut the slot back. 

He trudged back up the stairs to his apartment and got off at the third floor. Someone else that lived on the floor saw him in passing. 

“Good morning, neighbor.” She said cheerily.

“Morning.” Jack replied quietly and reached for his doorknob. 

He didn’t have any type of relationship with his neighbors and he didn’t want to, but being polite was the least he could do. Even if he didn’t feel like being sociable.

As he came in the doorway, he put the mail on the counter and the check in his wallet to cash later. Then he sat down at the kitchen table with a tired sigh. He wasn’t sure what he was gonna do today. When you didn’t work and lived alone it was easy to get bored. It made him restless. He liked the solitude but he needed something to do or he would go stir crazy. He had to keep his hands busy anyway because it distracted him from resurfacing memories and whatnot. 

One of the main things he did to keep himself occupied was keeping a journal/sketchbook. It was a brown hardback that he found while running errands one day. He would write entries about the day's events or his thoughts. Other entries would be drawings or doodles that came to mind. Sometimes he would glue things in or make a collage. Whatever came to mind, he put to paper. 

It seemed to work well enough. It kept his mind off things for a while. That was as good as it was gonna get. Screw therapy. It probably would have worked the exact same way, only more expensive and outside his space. Talking out his feelings to a stranger would cause him even more stress. So he stuck to the journal, deciding it would be a whole lot better in the long run.

Today he glued in some random pieces of the junk mail to make a collage, rearranging some of the words to make funny sentences. He liked to do that with newspapers too. Gotham’s papers were the best for that kind of thing with all their crazy headlines and bizarre stories. 

On the back of the collage he doodled Mrs. Vernon with her cat, Slyvester. He couldn’t get that mental image out of his head of her measuring her cat so she could make tiny cat clothes. It made him chuckle a bit. 

He closed his journal and put it and the art supplies away, after spending almost two hours in it. When he said the journal kept him busy, he meant it. He left the table and went into the living room. He plopped down on the couch to take a much needed nap. 

…

That night he made grilled cheese for dinner. Something simple so he didn’t have to put in much effort but still passable as a meal. After he ate, he laid down on the couch again to unwind for the evening. On the coffee table beside him, the radio was playing some old 70s rock tunes. He closed his eyes and just listened, drowning everything else out. 

The soft tunes emitted from the radio reminded him of his younger years. His mother would play records from Led Zeppelin or The Doors while they both cleaned the house. He smiled as he thought back on those days. The fond memories and soft music helped him to relax as he settled comfortably into the couch cushions. If he were allowed to smoke inside, he’d totally be having a cigarette right about now.

A combination of the relaxed feeling he had and his full stomach slowly lulled him to sleep. He sensed he was getting ready to drift off so he reached over and turned off the radio as his last conscious act before he succumbed to sleep. Within minutes he was out cold.

…

Several hours later Jack woke up startled from yet another nightmare. His heart pounded in his ears and he struggled to catch his breath. It was still dark outside which let him know it was still very early in the morning and not the right time to be getting up. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat up and scanned the room for reassurance.

You’re okay. You’re home. You’re safe.

He mentally chanted those words over and over to ground himself. Once he finally calmed down, he closed his eyes and tried his hardest to go back to sleep but he just couldn’t. After half an hour of trying, he gave up and turned on the TV to pass the time. 

At first a news channel popped up, which was discussing stocks for Gotham’s business world. Jack rolled his eyes and surfed through the channels until something decent came up. He settled on a kids channel that was playing Tom and Jerry. Nothing like childhood nostalgia to distract him from the terrible evil of the world that constantly racked his brain. 

More time passed and soon the sun crept in through the curtains, signaling to Jack that it was time to get up and go make himself something to eat. As he scoured the kitchen for food, he realized he needed to restock on groceries since he was running low on a lot of things. He outwardly groaned and facepalmed. The last thing he wanted was social interaction, especially after the rough start to the day.

He forced himself to suck it up, knowing that if he didn’t he wouldn’t have food. The best way to have a better day was to face it head on. He would be a productive member of society today. No if ands or buts about it. 

After he finished breakfast, Jack took a quick shower and got dressed. He made sure to fix his hair a little and brush his teeth. ‘Civilized’ people frowned upon the disheveled. He stuffed his keys and his wallet into his pocket and went on his way, locking up the apartment behind him.

When he was outside the building, he took a right towards the shopping center that was a few blocks down. He walked there since it would save gas. There was really no point in driving to somewhere so close. Mentally preparing himself as he approached, he entered the grocery store through the automatic door and grabbed a basket from the front, keeping his head down as he went. 

He walked through the aisles, grabbing the things that he needed and avoiding people when he could. Lately he found that the slightest things people did annoyed him. If someone got too close to him or if a group of people were in the same aisle he needed to be at, it bothered him. 

Then there were the times people actually did something to validly upset him. People had no mercy when it came to staring at him. It was bad enough that he was taller than most people and had this intimidating aura about him that tended to put others on edge. The scar was the salt in the wound. He saw their eyes. It was unmistakable what they were looking at. They would quickly look away and pretend like they didn’t see him, as if the very sight of his gnarled face would give them a disease of some kind. 

Pssh. Civilians were so easily startled. 

Jack grabbed the last thing he needed and dropped it inside the basket, relieved that the shopping part was over. Now came the hard part. He walked back towards the front where the registers were and got in line.

While he waited, he looked over each of the items in his basket and internally read over their labels to keep himself from getting too overwhelmed. That was one of the biggest reasons he hated shopping. Sure other people were annoying but it was extremely stressful for him to be out in public. 

It was now his turn in line so he stepped up and began unloading the basket onto the conveyor belt. As always he only spoke what was necessary to the cashier but maintained a certain amount of politeness. 

The cashier finished bagging the groceries and told him the total. Jack produced his wallet from his pocket and he took out some money, handing it to the cashier. She gave him a receipt and his change, wishing him a good rest of his day. Jack just nodded in response and grabbed the bags from the counter. He nearly made a beeline for the exit, glad to be away from that sensory overload.

While he was out he figured it would be a good idea to go ahead and cash that check he got in the mail. The bank was a few more blocks away but he didn’t mind walking. He reached the stone building a few minutes later and went inside.

He stopped at an electronic booth so he didn’t have to talk to a person. He took out some money to have as cash on hand and deposited the rest into his account.

Task two of the day completed. Now he could finally go back home.

When he got back, he unloaded the groceries and put them away. He noticed how messy his space was getting and decided to take action. Once he was done putting up groceries, he washed the dishes left in the sink and cleaned off the countertops. Then he tidied up around the living room and the table and swept the floors. The bathroom needed a touch up so he got to work on that. He also put the clothes lying on his bedroom floor in a laundry basket to be washed. By the time he was done cleaning nearly three hours had passed.

At this point it was almost dinner time and Jack was trying to figure out what to make. He pulled a box of pasta from a shelf in his pantry and decided to just wing it with some sort of pasta dish. He got the noodles started by leaving them in a pot on the stove to boil. While he waited on that he made a small salad to go with it, topping it with lots of cheese and an interesting looking dressing he found at the store. 

When the pasta finished cooking, he mixed it in with a tomato sauce he let heat up in a pan. Once that was done, he topped it with a little garlic and plenty of cheese. He moved to the table with the food and fixed himself a plate. The first bite was heavenly, a small reward for being productive today. He ate in complete silence as usual and relished in the peace and quiet. 

Jack started to get full after a while so he saved what was left over for later and cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. He put away the supplies he used and tossed the dirty dishes in the sink. Just as he picked up a dish to wash, the pan on top of it fell with a loud crash, making him jump back and drop the dish he was holding. 

Instantly he was brought back to the battlefield. The loud noise rang in his ears, imitating the explosions. He covered his ears with his hands and got down on his knees, curling in on himself and whimpering in pain.

No matter how hard he tried to snap out of it, the illusion wouldn’t budge. All he could do was stay there on the floor and ride it out until his brain decided to leave him alone. 

After what felt like forever, the noise and the visions eventually subsided, leaving him shook up and struggling to breath. He felt a lump form in his throat and choked over the sob he tried to keep back but couldn’t. This attack came out of absolutely nowhere and scared him to death. Loud noises never bothered him that much before and he never thought of them as triggering. This was completely unexpected.

Jack hit his head against his hands and scolded himself. Stop crying, you whimp! It’s over now. Jeez, get a fucking grip.  He rocked back and forth, trying to calm himself and ride out the last remaining effects of the attack. 

Something had to give. This was getting ridiculous.