I'm Having A Korn Marathon Right Now Since I Couldn't Go To The Concert

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

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.

How would Joker react if Y/n was pregnant? What would he do? Would he want a girl or a boy? Can you write something for this? :

Anon, I'm so sorry this took me over 4 months to answer! 😭 I didn’t really know how to make this into a oneshot so I’m going to do this in headcanon format with little drabbles in between if that’s alright. This is kind of like a 'what if' situation. No way in canon would Joker let you keep a baby. But let's just pretend :3 I loved this request so thank you for the ask! <333

You understandably freak out when the pregnancy test comes back positive. You are pregnant with The Joker’s child! 

What are you gonna do? How will Joker respond? Will he leave you?

Eventually you gather the courage to sit him down one night and tell him, sobbing the whole way through because you are so scared of his response.

“J-Joker, please don’t be mad! I thought we were being cautious enough, I really did! I can get rid of it if you want-” 

But J surprises you with his reaction. He just shrugs off your hysterics and laughs. “Bunny, bunny, calm down. Is it mine?”

You look at him incredulously and shout, “Well who else would get me pregnant?! The fucking Batman?!”

Joker laughs harder. “Okay then. Why would I be mad at ya?”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Joker, do you understand what this means? We are having a baby! A tiny human! That we are now responsible for! Don’t you see how this is a problem?”

“I know, y/n. We’ll figure it out. You function just fine while I’m gone. The apartment is secluded. Nobody suspects us. You could keep the baby here with you and when I come home I can help.”

“But J, aren’t people gonna start asking questions when they see me with a newborn? And what about the baby? They’ll have to grow up knowing about you. What kind of life are they gonna have? I know this is a lot to ask and I probably shouldn’t, but if you want us to keep the baby, why don’t you just quit? It’ll make it so much easier on us.”

Joker sighs. “It’s not that simple, y/n. I can’t just…stop. I could lay low for a while and not be as active.”

“Can’t you just slowly ease out of it? Think of our kid, J.”

“I… I mean, I guess I could. It’s gonna be hard but I can try. It might take a while though. At least a year for me to get the cops off my back and then fully disappear. I could resume my identity if I need to…” 

“J, you don’t have to do all that. I just need you to step away from crime for the sake of our child. That’s all I’m asking. If we’re gonna have this baby, their father needs to be present.”

“I know. I wanna be. My father was shit. I don’t want to repeat that.”

You smile and nuzzle into his chest. “You won’t. I’m sure of it.”

During your pregnancy, Joker is constantly checking up on you and catering to your needs. He has to know you’re okay at all times.

Weird cravings? He’s on it. No questions asked.

Cramps and headaches? He makes sure you lay down and rest while he takes care of the housework and cooking like a true gentleman. 

All while he’s slowly getting out of the criminal realm by killing laying off his henchmen and letting Frost handle things until the organization can be fully destroyed.

Frost is in utter shock at Joker’s decision and cannot believe what he’s witnessing. But he’s also very happy for his friend. He hasn’t seen J this content in a long time. The idea of being a father must be doing wonders for him. Frost is also the godfather of the baby which gives him a warm fuzzy feeling he doesn’t quite understand.

Further into the pregnancy, you and J remodel your spare bedroom into a nursery. You paint it a neutral green since it's one of J's favorite colors and move a crib and a rocking chair inside. You also stock up on diapers and other supplies to prepare for the baby's arrival.

Finally the time comes for you to go into labor. 

You gasp and sit upright in bed as you feel your water break in the middle of the night. You grab J by his shoulders and shake him until he opens his eyes.

“J! My water just broke!” 

“Huh? Go back to sleep, doll…” Joker mumbles groggily and rolls back over.

You let out an exasperated noise. “J, you idiot! Get up! The baby’s coming!”

It finally registers with Joker and he jumps up out of bed. “OH! The baby. Right. Uhhh, wait here. I’ll call the doc.”

You couldn’t exactly go to the hospital in these circumstances. You wanted Joker to be right there with you when the baby was born and so did he. That wouldn’t be an option at the hospital. So Joker calls his personal doctor that he has on speed dial. His job came with many injuries and a doctor was an extremely handy person to have on staff.

While waiting on the doctor to get to the apartment, Joker lays towels down on the bed underneath you and tries to make you as comfortable as possible. 

You cry out as a sharp pain spreads across your back. “AH! J, I’m scared! I can’t do this!”

“It’s gonna be okay, y/n. You got this. I’m here.” Joker reassures you, squeezing your hand tightly.

There’s a sudden knock at the door and Joker receives a text on his phone. He gets up to go let the doctor in. As the door opens, she pushes past Joker and runs to the bedroom to attend to you. 

Joker pulls up a chair and sits by quietly as the doctor does her work, occasionally rubbing your back and comforting you when needed.

Unlike most men he isn’t grossed out or horrified by the gory sight of giving birth. He’d seen far worse before.

He watches in awe as you persevere through the pain and focus on delivering your baby. He couldn’t be proud of you.

After 8 hours of strenuous labor, it’s almost over. The doctor is encouraging you to make one final push as you grip Joker’s hand so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

“Come on, y/n. That’s it. One more push.” Joker cheers you on.

With a groan of pain, you push again. A sense of relief washes over you and then a small cry breaks out. You look up and see the doctor wrapping your newborn up in a towel and cradling it in her arms. 

“Congratulations boss, you have a healthy baby girl.” The doctor informs Joker and carefully hands the baby over to you. She leaves the room for a moment to give you and J some privacy.

You gasp as you hold the infant to your chest, the pain and exhaustion melting away. “It’s a girl? Aww, hi sweetie.”

Joker sniffles and tears up beside you. He's always wanted a baby girl. You notice him and chuckle. 

“I can see you over there, tough guy.”

Joker lets a choked sob escape his lips. “Sh-She’s so beautiful… Can I hold her?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden show of emotion but you nod and hand the baby to Joker with a smile. He cradles his daughter with a gentleness you’ve never seen from him before. Almost as if he’s afraid to touch her. He kisses her forehead softly. 

“Hi there sweet girl. I’m your Dad. It’s good to finally meet you.” 

The baby wraps her tiny fingers around Joker’s and stares up at him curiously. You laugh at the adorable display but then you realize you haven’t even named her yet.

“J, what are we gonna name her? I haven’t thought of anything.”

“Uh, what letter you thinking of?” Joker asks, not taking his eyes off the bundle of joy in his arms.

“J.” You answer with a soft smile.

Joker catches on and shakes his head. “You ain’t gotta do that, doll. Name her what ya want. I don’t care.”

“No really, I want it to be a J name.”

Joker relents with a sigh and contemplates on a girl name that starts with J. “Uhhhh, Julia?”

“Nah.”

“Josephine?”

“Eh, too fancy.”

“Jade?” 

“Maybe…”

“Jocelyn?”

“No.”

“Juniper?”

“Ooh, I like that one. Let’s go with that. Is that good with you?”

“Yeah. It’s different. I like it.”

The doctor comes in again to make sure that you are recovering well. After you get changed and cleaned up, Joker and the doctor leave the bedroom to let you rest while they take care of Juniper.

Joker adores being a father. He could now fully enjoy it after he officially retires from crime by the time Juniper is a few months old. The police are absolutely baffled. Where did he go? It was like he and his entire organization just disappeared off the face of the earth. Little do they know Joker is right under their noses in an apartment downtown.

Joker keeps an extremely low profile whenever the two of you make an outing, especially with the baby. As a disguise he wears sunglasses and special makeup over his scars. On short trips he just uses a scarf to hide them.

Joker slowly learns how to parent with your guidance and patience. You were new at this too but motherly instincts that you didn’t know you had were kicking in and you surprised yourself with how good you were at being a mom.

Joker is the peek-a-boo king. One of his greatest strengths as a dad is of course making his daughter laugh. He has more time now than ever to play and spend time with her. As hard as it was to let go, he can’t help but think that giving up his life of crime was the best decision he’d ever made.

Juniper has your eyes and Joker’s hair. When her hair started to grow, the curl pattern became evident. Though you knew the curls would be beautiful just her like father’s, they were going to be a pain to take care of.

Each night you and J take turns tending to Juniper when she cries or gets fussy. 

You and Joker are nestled together in bed, exhausted from a day’s work of parenting. The bedroom door is cracked so you can hear if Juniper cries. Sure enough a whine breaks out in the middle of the night, waking you both up. 

“Your turn…” You mumble to Joker, who’s resting his head on your chest. 

“Yes dear.” Joker says sleepily and kisses your cheek.

He sits up with a yawn and moves into the nursery. He picks Juniper up out of her crib and holds her to his chest, patting her back gently.

"Shhh. Go back ta sleep, darlin'. Daddy's got you."

She coos and slowly starts to quiet down, falling asleep in Joker's arms. He puts her back in the crib and smiles. He would always keep her safe and protected no matter what.

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Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Ten - Nothing Is The Same

Warnings: Trauma responses, a bit of gore at the beginning

Chapter Summary: Still getting used to his new life, Jack wakes up from an awful nightmare and goes for a run.

Author’s Note: This took me forever sorry guys 😭 I wanted to get this posted days ago but oh well. I think it worked out better this way anyway. Side note! Jack's hair is back :D

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

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

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The deafening sound of a Black Hawk circling overhead and explosions all around roared in Jack’s ears, making it impossible to think straight. He couldn’t aim his rifle. He couldn’t focus. It was like he lost control of his own body. 

All Jack could do was helplessly watch the destruction around him. He tried to look away but when he looked down there were bits and pieces of maimed soldiers scattered about. Someone who had just been shot in the chest bled out at his feet. Their deadened eyes bored into his.

Jack screamed as he attempted to get away. He couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. He was drawn to it by an unknown force. The scene played over and over again in a loop. The Black Hawk flying up above, the explosions, the corpses… 

The loop broke when a stray bullet hit him in the face and ripped open the flesh on his cheek, creating an oozing, gaping wound. Blood pooled in his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. The drowning sensation took over his body as he writhed on the ground. 

Jack gasped and jolted awake. He sat up in bed, panting. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he tried to catch his breath. His biceps, also glistening with sweat, shone as the moonlight peeking in through the curtains reflected on them.

This had to be his strangest nightmare yet. He didn’t have them as frequently as he did that week he was discharged but they were much worse this time. He didn’t know what was better, a nightmare every night or a few a week that were horrible and would rattle him for days.

Jack glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was almost 4 am. He decided that now would be a good time to go for his nightly run. He completely forgot about it and fell asleep earlier than usual because he was so tired from the lack of sleep.

After stretching his tense muscles, Jack swung his legs over the bed and grabbed his pants and black hoodie from the floor, throwing them on half heartedly. He stuffed his keys into his pants pocket and slid on his shoes before quietly slipping out of the apartment. Instead of taking the elevator, he took the stairs since they were less noisy.

Once he was down at the lobby, Jack pushed the double doors open and walked out into the street, a gust of cold air hitting his face. Pulling his hood over his head, he took off to the left and sprinted down the sidewalk. 

Ever since he moved to Gotham a few months ago, he ran almost every night. Normally he would stay out for at least 20 to 30 minutes. He found running therapeutic and a way to clear his head. The adrenaline was like a drug. A temporary fix to help him escape his problems. 

This time Jack took a different route than he usually did. He liked to switch things up every once in a while. The dim street lights provided just enough light for him to see and illuminated his profile as he moved under them, giving his jagged scar a grisly effect. To a passerby the brief glimpse probably looked horrifying. That was partly why he wore a hood over his head. 

In the end he made it all the way to Gotham River, which flowed north of Downtown. As soon as the water was in sight, he stopped and approached the nearby bridge, wiping the sweat from his brow. He dug out his lighter and a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and inhaled the first drag, closing his eyes and reveling in the crisp scent. Leaning over the railing, he looked out over the shimmering water and exhaled the smoke, the vapor curling in different directions.

The water was oddly calming, and combined with the smoke helped to settle his nerves, which were still shot from the nightmare. A gust of wind ruffled his hair and made him shiver a little, his skin prickling at the cold. 

These days Jack didn’t know what to feel. Day and night the war stayed with him. He thought he would eventually get over this, but apparently it was still lingering around, looming in the back of his mind. He couldn’t settle back into society properly. He could barely sleep. He couldn’t go a single day without being reminded of the war in some way. His scar was no help with that. 

With a tired sigh, Jack finished his cigarette and headed back, tossing the butt into a trash can close by. As he got closer to his apartment building, he slowed his pace. He entered through the double doors just as quietly as he exited earlier. His eye was struck by a light that emitted from the office and streaked through the lobby.

Vernon is up pretty early. Jack thought as he started up the stairs.

He reached the 3rd floor and scanned the hallway for 307. Finding it, he fished out his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and shut the door, tossing his keys onto the countertop. He went to his bedroom and flopped down on his bed with a loud exhale. 

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. It was already morning, although very early, and now that Jack was up, he would stay up. He checked the clock beside him. It was close to 5 am. He sat up with a grunt and got down on the floor to begin his usual morning workout. 

The first thing was sit ups. He could do 250 in ten minutes. Next was push ups. He could do about 150 of those. Then to finish it off he held a plank for as long as he could. His muscles were on fire by the time he was done but it didn’t bother him. It was ingrained in his head to stay in shape. He also found himself taking pleasure in the pain. It was difficult to explain.

Jack sat up and rested for a minute, catching his breath. The running and the exercises made him pretty sweaty. A shower was looking very appealing right then. So he trudged into his bathroom and slid off his clothes. Then he turned on the water and as he waited for it to heat up, gazed into the mirror at himself. 

It was a pitiful sight. His eyes were heavy and sunken in with dark circles that rimmed the bottom of them. His face was gaunt and weary. Trying to be positive, he noticed his hair was growing back. It went past his ears now. He wasn’t sure or not if he wanted to grow it all the way out like how he used to have it. He would probably settle halfway, somewhere at his shoulders.

The water had warmed up so Jack stepped in the tub and stood under the shower head. He wet his hair first and lathered it with soap. Tilting his head back, he ran his fingers through his brown locks and rinsed. He was kind of ashamed to say he hadn’t properly washed his hair in almost a week. But it wasn’t like he had to impress anyone. He rarely went out and he lived alone. He could care less.

After he was done washing himself, Jack just stood motionless under the water and took in the warmth. Resting his head on the wall, he breathed in and out rhythmically and listened to the water pitter patter into the tub. As the steam rose and wisped past his face, he felt a sense of clarity that brought him out of his sleepy haze. 

Jack shut off the water and pulled the shower curtain aside, stepping out of the tub and onto the fluffy blue mat on the floor. He grabbed a towel from the cabinet under the sink and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist. 

Back in his room he threw on a loose navy colored tee and black sweatpants. He felt his stomach growl and plead with him for food as he walked out into the main area of the apartment. All the exercise must have worked up his appetite. He relented and went to his pantry to hunt for food. He didn’t feel like spending the time to cook anything so it needed to be something simple.

Jack settled on a pack of blueberry Pop-Tarts and slid them into the toaster slots. While he waited he poured himself a glass of orange juice and placed it on the table. Once the Pop-Tarts were ready, he put them on a napkin and sat down. He ate the pastries tentatively since they were still hot and sipped on the juice.

He made a guttural sound of annoyance and moved his tongue across the inside of his cheek where the scar was. Food, especially the sticky kind, had a tendency to get stuck there. He noticed a few days ago that he was developing a habit of messing with the inside of his mouth with his tongue and licking his bottom lip where it had a small forked crack in it. He didn’t know why. The best way he could describe it to someone else was having a sore in your mouth that you compulsively need to mess with. 

It was a gruesome, repulsive habit but Jack didn’t try to stop himself. He knew it would be hard to quit since he was going to have this scar for a long time. He just hoped nobody out in public would notice. Bearing the scar was bad enough. People already stared at him. He didn’t need to give them another reason to.

Jack sighed as he realized his life would never be the same as it once was. He had to come to terms with living with this trauma, the scar, this new environment, and the fact that he was alone. His mother was gone, his father didn’t give two shits about him, and he didn’t know a single soul in Gotham. Being a loner never bothered him before but back then he had a choice. It hurt worse when he was forced into it. 

He was already alienated from the rest of society by being in the army and having to adjust back to civilian life. The scar pushed him even farther out of the norm. He hated when he was at the store and his military ID (that he kept putting off to take out of his wallet) flashed when he was pulling out money and people, noticing the card and his scar, would always say the customary, “thank you for your service.” 

It infuriated him to no end. He could read their eyes. They pitied him. He didn’t want them to. They didn’t even mean what they said. Everyone said it because it was “respectful” or “polite.” He didn’t feel bad in the slightest for thinking like that. He took solace in knowing he wasn’t the only vet that felt this way.

Jack cleared out the negative emotions beginning to swirl within him and finished up his breakfast. He refused to have another bad day today. Yawning, he stood up from the table, gently tossed his glass into the kitchen sink, and threw his trash away. He plopped down on the couch in the living room and switched on the TV. Right now he really needed a laugh so he turned on some cartoons to pass the morning by.