My Friends 🇵🇸🚨

Could you do one where the reader doesn't smoke or like the smell of cigs and eddie tries not to smoke around her? Bc I think he would be that kind of boyfriend ): even if the reader doesn't really care he tries his best

for you ♡ gn!reader | 0.6k words

Eddie's sitting with his legs kicked out on the back door. You lean against the wall behind him and cross your arms over your chest. 

"Whatcha doing?" you ask quietly, a little worried that he'd left for the bathroom and hadn't made it back yet. 

He flinches in surprise and almost burns himself with the cigarette held between his fingers as he drops his head back to look at you upside down. "Fancy seeing you here." 

You grin and gesture for him to move over so you can sit beside him. He looks reluctant to let you, shuffling slowly to the side. You stretch your legs out over the steps, the cold threshold biting through your pajama pants to hurt your thighs. 

"It's freezing out here, Eds." 

He flicks ash into an ashtray to his left, body faced away from you. "I don't feel it like you do." 

You snort. "Why, you got some super power I don't know about that keeps you warm?" 

"Something like that." 

You smile at him and drop your face against your shoulder to look up at the black sky searchingly. There, nestled, a blinking pulse behind ribs, a single white star. You lean toward Eddie to point it out with your hand already aloft and he moves away from you. 

You stare at him. His face is unyielding.

"Eddie, have I done something?" Your hurt feelings echo.

His laugh is uneasy. "Why would you think that?" he asks, an attempt at casualness that doesn't work. 

"I don't know," you say, sounding likely more mad than you ever have with him, the sting of his rejection blistering, "because my boyfriend keeps disappearing and now he won't let me touch him?" 

Eddie stubs his cigarette out blindly, reaching for your forearm. He curls his fingers around your pulse point with an apologetic smile. "You can touch me whenever you want." 

You huff and look down at your feet. "Whatever," you mumble. There's obviously something he's not saying and that's fine, if he doesn't want to tell you he doesn't have to, but you don't have to pretend everything's okay either. 

"Sweetheart." 

You force your knees together, cold and annoyed. 

"Sweetheart." 

"Eddie, if I did something wrong-" 

"You didn't, I swear, I- I just don't want to smoke around you, okay? That's why I'm out here. It's not to get away from you. I'm just… putting space between you and the cigs," he tries, voice lilting up hopefully. 

His thumb smooths over your wrist. 

You peek up at him and feel a little better when he looks genuinely sorry. "What?" 

"Passive smoking is really bad for you." 

You look between both of his eyes. "So you're not mad at me?" 

"For what?" he tugs your arm until your shoulders shake. "Oh. Actually, I'm furious. Have you realised you're getting prettier lately? It's weird, 'cos personally I didn't think you could get any prettier, but-" 

"Oh god," you say, dropping your head into his shoulder. 

"That's what I thought, too." 

You hide your smile in his t-shirt sleeve. "I don't care if you smoke around me. I can't say I like the smell, but…" 

He works his fingers between yours and leans towards you like you're telling secrets. "Well, you know, I kind of care. A lot. About you." 

"I know." 

"I should fucking hope so." 

You rub your face into his arm and he drops his head on top of yours, the two of you looking up at the same time.

"See that one?" he murmurs. 

"To the left?" 

"Yeah." 

"Yeah, I see it." 

He dots a kiss against your forehead, smelling a little of smoke and a lot like everything else, his sandalwood and deodorant, his last cup of coffee. The star blink-blink-blinks.

You would have to kill him if you wished to keep him away from you.

That was so fucking cool ??

ᥫ᭡ .  #  ۫  ,  ⸺  A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA  !  

summary :: mike schmidt did not realize the weight of his mistake before it was too late. when he had first met you, his baby sister's beloved teacher, he couldn't imagine ever leaving you. with his aunt's demands to see her niece, however, he had no choice. now, a year later and two states over, everyday is spent suffocating on misery and memories. mike does not know how much more of this he can endure before he breaks.

word count :: 9.2k.

content warnings :: obsessive!mike, yandere!mike, fnaf movie spoilers, drugging, kidnapping, violence, stalking, & insinuations of s3x.

mike schmidt's yandere traits are . . .

obsessive, paranoid, & nervous

──── Everything is hazy.

Fuzzy. Blurry. Serenity in its sheerest form. The absolute definition of tranquility.

That April morning in Nebraska. The scent of sugar and crayons, the sounds of children playing outside, the scattered toys left on rainbow carpets. You're sat at the desk in your classroom. Warm light bleeding through the window behind you, framing you with flowering leaves and sunshine.

Across the room, Abby Schmidt sits on the floor. Her small fingers tap the glass enclosure where the class pet is. Mr. Cupcake, your iguana. Or, as you like to refer to him, your teaching assistant. His claws plunge into his food dish, copper-colored eyes scrutinizing his surroundings. Abby watches as the reptile chows on the fruit and foliage left for breakfast.

Sitting in the chair opposite your desk is Mike Schmidt. Sweat beads on his forehead, ineluctably distressed beneath your gaze. The suit he wore for this occasion juts uncomfortably into his skin. His fingers fidget with the trim of his tie. He looks at the woven basket of exotic butters sitting on your desk, wondering why he had gotten you such an aimless gift.

Mike is quiet, as usual. Austere, his permanent disposition. Despite his tireless efforts to express his thoughts to you, the words remain nestled in his throat. Conjuring any syllable in your presence is impossible.

You, however, do not have any wavering confidence. You reiterate the legal documents obligatory for Abby's complete transition to a new school. Noting how all necessities are now in your possession (albeit languidly, as Mike has been painfully trying to buy more time here), the relocation was complete. The obvious insinuation of your words, however, brings crippling dread like no other.

The last time you would ever see one another. Your goodbye.

Standing to your feet, you make your way to Abby and bend down beside her. You will miss your star student, as you have a soft spot for all the children in your classroom. In the process, you do not take notice of the way Mike instinctively reaches out to you. He's sure your touch would kill him, but it does not stop him from wishing for it. Even just a sliver of the precious rarity.

"I think Mr. Cupcake is going to miss you." Abby looks at you with wide, curious eyes.

"Don't tell the others, but you're definitely his favorite." That earns you a smile before she averts her attention back to the iguana.

When you stand, you find Mike breathing down your neck. Horrifically, as this memory still haunts him, he thought it'd be a good idea to hug you. And he practically throws his entire body weight on top of you. When you reject him by placing your hand on his chest, offering a handshake instead, fire spreads with your touch. Knowing he will never know what it feels like to hold you close to him is more excruciating than he is willing to admit.

Abby skips out of the classroom, an adorable pep in her step. At the same time, every step Mike takes from you feels like walking through an avalanche. Dragging him backward, begging to return to you. Almost as if it were his instinct, his body is trying to reject his advances of leaving you.

"Why do you always look at them like that? Like... Like they're a dinosaur or something?"

Abby's question causes Mike's brows to furrow. His feelings for you were certainly discernible. Even his young sister had taken notice of the odd behavior. Had he made it that obvious? He answers her with a weak, affirmative grunt. Too emotionally fatigued to find words to speak.

A sudden flare of biliousness deluges through his body. The hallway walls adorned with children's paintings have morphed into a colorful blur of vertigo. The floors disturbingly stretch in size, making the journey away from you all the more torturous. The suit he had tried to wear confidently sticks to his hot skin. Nausea squirms in his stomach like a dying cockroach. The room begins to spin, lights sway in his vision, and his knees fight for balance.

Mike hears his sister shriek his name before he falls to the ground.

One year later, Mike wakes from this same dream, once again.

Every night of this past year, he has dreamt the same thing. Your final goodbye and the sheer impact it took on him. It is a gut-wrenching memory, but he welcomes the echo of you with open arms. To feel your hand on his chest, see your eyes looking into his. This yearning heartache is the only thing keeping him alive.

For the umpteenth time, Mike faces the harsh, violent reality of his current life. Now, he is somewhere in Utah. Praying straight to God he'll somehow wake up back in Nebraska. Where he could see you again, where he could be happy again.

Tearing the headphones of his Walkman off, the song he had played on repeat comes to an end. He rubs his sleepy eyes. With newfound clarity, Mike shifts his gaze upwards. Taped to the ceiling is a drawing Abby drew. It's of you and him beneath a flowery altar, Mr. Cupcake as your marriage officiant. The picture aids him in his efforts to feel closer to you.

Mike doesn't even know how he survived seeing the drawing for the first time. Someone else validating his feelings for you and the realness of your nonexistent relationship was too much for him to handle. Even if it is a child doing so through a frivolous drawing.

When Mike shuffles over to place his Walkman on the bedside table, he skims over the assortment of clutter left there. Several bottles of sleeping medication had been indolently thrown onto the surface. The pills help his dreams feel more real, as though he were at your side once again.

A glance over, Mike's heart wrenches at the sight of the picture frame. Beside the mess of pills is a photograph of you he had torn from Abby's yearbook. As if you were watching over him while he slept, reaching out to him in the presence of his dreams. It's a comforting thought of his, to imagine you watching over him. Like his personal guardian angel.

Surely, he would prefer to have you physically with him, instead of just relying on these fantasies to hold him over. His stomach flutters at the mere idea of you being in his bed with him. Mike feels empty without your warm weight beside him.

Laying against his chest, huddling up to him for an early-morning cuddle before the day starts. He would ensnare his blanket around your still-sleeping form. He'd press ardent kisses to the top of your head and inhale the aromatic scent of your signature soap. Massaging his hands across your back. Caressing the balmy flesh of your body. It is the physical manifestation of nirvana brought directly into his palms.

Mike shakes the thoughts out as quickly as they come. So cheesy... What on Earth is he doing?

Although he has tossed around the idea of giving in and leaving Abby in their aunt's care, what kind of man would you think him as if he abandoned his family? And if he were to take Abby back to Nebraska, Social Services would surely hunt him down. The mere idea of being locked behind a prison cell is terrifying, but the prospect of never seeing you again provokes terror like no other.

Mike's head pounds as these thoughts haunt him. Reveries of brighter days in your presence, trepidation of being separate from you forever — this is how every morning usually begins. His dreams nestled in a nightmare. The chaos in his head brings him to where this story had begun altogether.

February. Two months before the last time he would ever see you.

Jane had demanded Abby live with her in Utah, threatening legal action in the process. Mike had no other choice but to succumb to her orders. It had begun as a minor inconvenience, considering his life in Nebraska was futile to begin with. However, it would soon become the worst decision he has ever made. He knows he should have fought harder, but Mike hadn't met you until after he verified their relocation. It wasn't until he had stepped foot into your classroom for the very first time had he realized the weight of his mistake.

With the start of his shift at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza approaching, he struggled to bring these rampant thoughts to rest. Resentfully, Mike rises from his bed. The sun has begun to set and his unsatisfactory power nap has come to an end. He trudges over to the foot of his bed and begins his usual set of push-ups. Triggering adrenaline through his body is essential to his daily routine. It helps ease his brain from all the chaos. An area he is in dire need of assistance.

For a moment, his thoughts are blank. It is such an oddity, that Mike is left stunned. Having a silent mind is a privilege that is unknown to him.

And just when he thought he had found coherence, the memory of you comes sprinting at him from the shadows. Mere seconds of emptiness pass before thoughts of you invade his mind.

A week after your final goodbye.

His disposition has suffered from a harsh descent since then. Mike is now irritable and aggressive to anyone who even faintly nudges his buttons. Snapping like a feral dog. Rough like a calloused hand.

Acknowledging weakness has never been his strong suit, but Mike is not a fool when it comes to how he feels around you. The overwhelming nerves stirred together with unwavering devotion make for a sugary-sweet, poisonous concoction. Something he could get drunk off for years to come.

Although his mind is stained in consideration, he cannot storm through the school doors and take you with him to Utah. Merely standing in your presence is enough to make him stop breathing. Contriving an abduction, one that includes you, no less, would fail miserably. And as he stated before, the prospect of being stuck behind bars and never seeing you again provokes terror like no other.

So, he gives in. He resentfully gives in to what his Aunt Jane wants and goes about his life.

There was only two more weeks before he'd leave his job as security at the mall forever. Mike meanders through the large expanse, actively averting his gaze from all the happy couples. Hands held together, eyes brimming with adoration, feeding each other ice cream. It never fails to make him bitter, which he prefers to assume it is because of how sappy the sight is.

He wonders what flavor of ice cream is your favorite, the look in your eye as he feeds you a spoonful. What kind of sweet words you'd give him and the way you'd blush when he drowns you in adoration. Within the safety of his mind, he has molded himself into the man of your dreams. You will just have to look past all the sweat and nerves to find him.

A flicker of movement captures his attention. Something strangely familiar in his peripheral. When he turns, his breath gets caught in his chest.

His wide eyes stare at you. Standing alone across the mall.

All Mike can do is gawk. Like a newly-born fawn, staring goggle-eyed and weak-kneed as he takes in the sight of the world for the very first time. A gasp of your name parts from his lips. He sways in his stance like a boat on the sea, his body melts like snow beneath the sunlight. Stood still in place, he feels that familiar sense of light-headedness return. He embraces the dizziness as a comfort, this time around.

Mike could almost laugh at this. At the same time, he could cry his heart out.

Of course, your roads would intersect. Of course, you would find each other in the end. Even when he had fully accepted he would never see you again, you return to him. Like a cloud of happier days, here to hide the torment for all.

And then, he's interrupted.

Walking uninvited into the scene is a stranger. A man approaches you, daring to drape his arm around your shoulder. Mike's eye twitches as he watches. The stranger then plants a kiss on your cheek, something Mike has wished to do since the first time he stepped foot in your classroom. With this man's hands all over you, the two of you begin to walk away.

The word "heartbroken" was something Mike had never felt before. It was something he never understood. He only heard of the word through brainless movies, where he swore he'd never let himself fall apart like the dumb characters do. At this moment, however, that term is stamped all over him in thick ink. A vivid exhibition of all the good and bad you have done to him.

Without another thought, Mike takes a step. Then another. Before he is breaking into a full sprint toward the love of his life and the parasite latched onto them. It's as if a puppeteer was controlling him, grasping hold of his spine and snatching a fistful of nerves. He shoves past any shoppers in his way, a few losing balance and falling to the floor. His speed accelerates with every hastening step, growing closer and closer.

The stranger looks over his shoulder a second too late before he is tackled. The two fall into an adjacent fountain with a loud clamor. Mike's fist clenches, before it surges down into his face. Then, he does it again and again and again.

Again. Again. Again.

And again.

Grunting like an animal, Mike can't stop himself.

Fuck you. Fuck you. 

Fuck you.

Don't you ever fucking touch them.

It is blinding, how enraged he is. In a mess of blood and water. The mere thought of someone laying a finger on you boils red-hot rage like he has never felt before.

Someone ensnares their arms around him and drags him away from the mess he created. When the splashing water eases down to calm ripples, he finally looks over to you to ensure your safety and- who is that? A different person is standing there, utter horror plastered on their face as they watch the scene play out.

They have the same height, the same clothes, almost the same everything. But, now that Mike is able to scrutinize who he thought to be you, he realizes he was completely wrong. He had only formed a desperate personification of you from memory. What has he done?

The dread is soul-crushing as the weight of his mistake crushes him. Other bystanders watch in shock. Mike's fists are bruised red, his clothes are wet and stained with blood. What on Earth was he thinking!? All he ever wanted was to protect you! To protect you from men like that!

Mike's vision doubles and his body shivers. All he ever wanted was to protect you. The only thing he can think about is you and the sheer devastation you have rained down into his life.

This memory playing through his head is abruptly cut short. Mike is then forcefully shoved back into reality when his hand slips during his set of push-ups. He falls face-first into the carpet, grumbling from the harsh contact.

It is a vile memory to have, as it is the reason he lost his job at the mall and truly eradicated any chance of staying in Nebraska. However, it showed him how irrevocably devoted he is to you. How the feelings he has for you are completely and utterly real. Someone like him, who prides himself in being aloof and controlled, was capable of causing such calamity. All for your safety.

It was a terrifying revelation, but it soothed him in a way he had never felt before.

Michael Schmidt needs you.

And unfortunately, his feelings are not powerful enough to stretch into physical reality. Even though it feels as though they are capable of doing so, they cannot mold the world to bring him back to you. They cannot protect him from the inevitability of leaving his home and being dragged to Utah.

Now, he stands at the entrance of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Ivy grows amongst the bricked walls. Bright paint fades from years of neglect. Mike breathes in the scent of midnight brume as he unlocks the doors, trying once more to rid his brain of the thought of you.

The flashlight in his hands illuminates the inside of the pizzeria. Specks of dust permeate the air. Flashy arcade games are riddled with age. Toys on the prize shelf are covered in a blanket of cobwebs. The once gaudy carpets are caked with dirt. And those God-awful animatronics still stand on that rickety stage. Mike takes note of all these little things with a sigh. If this place was still alive today, he knows you'd adore taking your students here.

As his nights have been spent for the last year, he walks through the dilapidated establishment as usual. On the desk is a stack of chunky monitors displaying several angles of the pizzeria. The "CELEBRATE!" poster on the wall mocks him. He plops down on the adjacent swivel chair. The old fabric peels and the wheels whine from his weight.

Unzipping his ragged backpack, he grasps hold of the book he had taken with him, Dream Theory. Adjusting the headphones of his Walkman on his head, Mike then flicks the dog-ear over and resumes his reading.

God only knows how many times he has read this damned book. And every time he rereads it, he prays he can somehow find an anecdote for this torment. A magic step-by-step guide that will bring him back to you.

Despite perusing this book from front to back, he still searches for more. He hates being awake. He'd much rather be asleep, where he can return to you. Any second not spent with you, even if the moment is not tangible, is a second gone to waste. No matter what the circumstances are, he could only ever wish to be with you.

Lethargy hits Mike like a slap across the face. The book in his hands is now reminiscent of a brick. The song that plays on repeat in his Walkman soothes him like a mother's lullaby. All of these sensations embrace Mike; they pacify his brain and body of any unease. And with a few more leveled breaths, Dream Theory falls from his hands and he drifts off.

With a beat, he's woken up with a sharp gasp. This time, however, he does not awaken in the same dingy pizzeria. He finds himself sitting at a picnic table. Located in the very same forest he had lost his brother years ago.

Looking down, Mike finds he is dressed in the same hunter-green sweater and jeans stained with grass. His eyes scan around the expanse, searching for the faces of his family. He cannot find his mother, his father, nor Garrett. No one. Everything is to no avail.

There's a shuffle from behind him. He looks, only to find swaying trees and fluttering birds. And then, a voice.

"I'm sad to see you both go." The familiar cadence has Mike's head snapping back forward. He is struck with desperation.

There you are, sat across from him at the picnic table.

If it weren't for the campgrounds you were both at, this moment would be identical to when he first met you. In that same classroom, on that same day. Every mannerism and timbre of your voice is a picture-perfect copy of that moment. Same look in your eye, wearing the same clothes and bead bracelets your students made for you. Same everything.

It is a precious memory. To sit here with you feels so real, as though the heavens had answered Mike's prayers and brought him back to you.

"Abigail has always been a stellar student. I have no doubt she'll flourish in her new school."

Your smile makes his heart sink. Everyone always looks at him with anger. Not you, though. You're different.

"She does have a tendency to keep to herself. But, I think she'll adapt well to the new environment." He remembers every word from your mouth.

The emotions he was struck with when he first met you come back in a near-fatal rush. Irrepressible tension and rapture plunge through the barrier of his flesh. Practically a duplicate of the exact memory.

Going to a standard school meeting for his sister was an event Mike intended to do briefly. Getting it over as quickly as possible is his standard approach to most if not all, aspects of his life. This day, however, he was thrown in a whirlpool when he found himself wishing to stay with you. Leaving you felt like something he could not bear to endure.

Mike is abnormally pale, drenched in sweat, and mere seconds from passing out. You place your hand on his arm, inquiring him about if he was feeling alright. Hook, line, and sinker. Your mere touch sent him charging away from any perceived sanity he once possessed.

The strictly platonic concern you had for his well-being is addicting. To a point where Mike abandons all morals to indulge in these newfound feelings you give him. Once a poised man has now been reduced to a gooey puddle of sheer fervor.

All he can do is nod in response, completely entranced by the sight before him. You take his assurance hesitantly, before reaching into a basket of children's toys beside your desk. As this memory usually plays out, you retrieve a bear plushie. You then tell him of how it is Abby's favorite to play with and how you wish to gift it to her before your final goodbye. He agrees, of course. Nodding once more to compensate for his inability to speak.

In these woods, however, you show him that orange toy plane his brother treasured. His gaze remains latched to you as stand from the picnic table and walk away. To his utmost surprise, you then bend down beside Garrett. When you present him with the plane, he accepts your gift with childlike elation. He is quick to abandon his recent endeavors in favor of playing with his new toy.

You stand on foot, watching with an adoring smile as the young boy takes off. Mike watches you. An emotional, muddled intensity in his eyes.

"This isn't... This isn't how it happened... This isn't real." In his state of confusion, Mike has found the ability to speak.

He captures your attention and your gaze reverts to him. In response, his mouth goes dry and all coherent thought vanishes. Just one look from you and his entire capacity to speak is robbed, once again.

"But, it could be... It's what you want, isn't it?"

You are correct. You have always been veracious and that attitude does not fail now.

So despairingly, Mike wants this with you. To raise Abby and Garrett together, he can only imagine the wonderful people they'd become under your care. Maybe you and him could even bring a few more beautiful lives into this world. He can only imagine how exultant his own life would become if this dream turned into reality.

The rest of his life would be spent with you in Nebraska, just like this. Mornings and nights spent together at the dining table, all delicious laughter and nourishing meals. He'll even let you bring that lizard, too!

Playing frivolous games in the backyard until the sun sets, dressing in ridiculous costumes to take the kids trick-or-treating, and helping them blow out the candles for every birthday cake. Hell, he'll endure the sweltering temperatures and screaming kids at Disneyland. Only if you're there with him.

And maybe after the bedtime stories and last tuck-ins goodnight, you and him can occupy yourselves with other activities. Mike is no stranger to these kinds of fantasies, after all.

You wouldn't fail Abby and Garrett. Not like he did. You could all be a family. Exactly like he has always wanted.

For a moment, Mike had forgotten how his life had inevitably turned out. He was so warped in the domestic bliss he could have with you, that he didn't anticipate how the next chapter of his life would manifest in this dream.

You are tackled to the ground. You fight, you kick, you scream — you do everything in your strength to get the man off of you. The very same man who took Garrett all those years ago.

Not a picosecond passes before Mike picks himself up, rushing to your safety. He intends to beat the man to a bloody pulp. His sole purpose on Earth is to protect you and ensure your safety, after all. In his efforts, his foot gets caught against the legs of the picnic table, sending him to the dirt floor. Mike is quick to scramble to his feet. His heart races a mile a minute; his eyes are blown wide in crazed worry.

When he stands, he finds that somehow within the few seconds spent on the ground, you had been shoved into the back of a car. You bang your fists against the rear window, pleading for him to rescue you. And that, Mike desperately tries to do.

He sprints after you in a blind, blurred panic. The sudden, swift movement of his body is painful, as though needles poke and prod at his skin. It is all he can see, hear, feel, think of. Losing you and the gut-wrenching devastation that would inevitably follow.

The car begins to accelerate faster and faster. His running pace gets slower with every step forward. Mike tries, God, he fucking tries, but you slip away from him like sand between his fingers. Just the same as it was when he lost his brother.

With his speed receding, his body loses all mobility and he cannot bear to run anymore. The harsh punt of his body falling to the ground pulls a grunt out of his throat. Mike whispers mantras of "I'm sorry," hoping that you can somehow hear his pleas. He prays that by some miracle, the man who took you will have a change of heart and bring you back. Sobs plunge through his chest. The misery seeps in like water leaking through a weak dam.

Consciousness comes back to him all too suddenly. A loud yell of your name erupts from him and echoes through the security room. Mike plummets from his desk chair and splats against the ground. His mind is still plagued by that scene, he is still racing to save your life.

Cold sweat drips from his head. His hands shake with a terrified tremor. He hyperventilates, as though he had escaped the depths of the ocean and were inhaling fresh air for the first time. Mike weakly props himself up against the desk, trying to calm himself.

An entire year of agony. Over 365 days of absolute Hell. Living without you has tortured him in ways he never thought was possible.

Sitting here on the filthy floor of this old pizzeria, Mike finally waves his white flag. He has given up. He cannot do this anymore. It is more than he can handle.

And without so much as another breath, Mike springs into action.

Max is surprised to see him back home so early. Flustered and ridden with sweat, Mike explains how there is an emergency at work and he needs her to watch Abby longer. She obliges and accepts the hefty pay he shoves into her hands. He is driving away before she can process what has just occurred.

The song he plays every night in his Walkman blares from the car radio. Your song. The idea brings him ephemeral ease. A dash of excitement.

This is what his life is supposed to be and if all goes well, it's what it will be in mere hours. Mike's foot slams harder against the gas, doing what he should have done long ago.

All he has to do is explain himself. Surely, you will listen and understand this is for the better. You will see through all his stuttered words and irrepressible nerves. You will taste the sickeningly sweet devotion dripping from his mushy, candied heart. Surely, you will understand this is all for you. And of course, you will love him, too.

Hours pass like gusts of wind. The welcome sign of Nebraska passes in a flash. Mike remembers the route like the back of his hand. He'd never forget the roads that lead back to you, after all.

Dawn is moments from rising. The sky is a dark blue, covered in blotches of dark, orange sunshine. Mike pulls into the parking lot of your school where only one car is present. Yours. And of course, he parks directly beside you. The prospect of being close to you, even with something as negligible as this, sends a hot shiver coursing through his body.

Mike tries to soothe himself as he lets out a shaky breath. A heavy trepidation is nestled in his stomach, still mixed with that crisp excitement. Sweat cascades down his face. His dark, curly hair sticks to his forehead. Nothing can stop these feelings. He may try, but his scattered heartstrings stubbornly remain ensnared around his throat.

When he stands, he has to latch onto the roof of his car to catch his balance. Any passerby would think he was drunk. Being at an elementary school would certainly not help his case, either. Fortunately, the only people here are you and him. No one else. Just the way it is supposed to be.

The path leading to you is familiar. The trees blossoming, the chalk drawings on the sidewalk, and the scent of the early-morning breeze. It reminds Mike even more of how much he missed you.

His wet palms grasp the handles of the front entrance. He pulls, only for the door to remain locked in place. A few more desperate tugs and he watches as his ploy peels apart from the seams. The consideration of breaking down the door is only present momentarily, before any and all function of his is cut short.

The door is unlocked and opened. Stood at the threshold is you.

And with more intensity than Mike had anticipated, the euphoria only you are capable of conjuring comes rushing back.

"Good morning!" is all you say. Your expression is cheerful. Kind. Gorgeous, as you always are. Exactly the way he remembered.

Now that you are finally here, Mike cannot fathom how he had survived so long without you. The pieces of you sprinkled throughout his life are brought to revelation. Your name carved into his bones, your warmth threaded through his veins, your breath stirred with his every word. It is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. The fact he had not collapsed upon making mere eye contact with you is a miracle in of itself.

"Oh! Are you the new security guard? I wasn't aware we were getting a new hire." You break the silence, referring to the yellow "SECURITY" stamped on his vest.

You...

You don't remember me?

The words don't manage to escape him. Instead, you send him into a state of stupor.

The impact your words have on him is nothing short of surreal. When Mike had memorized every sliver of you down to the tilt of your jaw and the curve of your spine, you had forgotten him entirely. For the year he spent longing for you, he was merely a bystander in the background. An apparition within your mind. You do not remember him. And no words in the English language could express the lethal heartbreak.

It has rendered Mike speechless and his inability to speak fills you with unease.

"Please, come in." Opening the door further, you try and usher him inside. All you wish to do is escape this conversation and the fervid eyes of this stranger.

Gaze still glued to you, he grasps hold of the door handles. His unconscious brain still decides to take the weight off of you. Mike has no choice now, he must convince you to stay with him. To beg you to choose him, to remind you of everything you once had with each other. To show you what losing you has done to him.

When you turn and walk away, he tries to find his voice. Mike wants to express all of this to you, but his efforts are futile. He is frozen and can only watch as you leave him again. The opposite direction of your classroom, this time. Towards the office. Most likely to ensure he was actually in the system.

Mike does not take this choice of yours for granted. Gathering up whatever morsel of strength is still left in him, he takes a few wobbly steps. He stumbles through the dark hallways, clutching his hand over his heart as he walks. His rampant heartbeat does not calm itself, no matter his attempts to soothe it.

Upon practically collapsing into your classroom, a flare of fleeting ease envelops Mike. To be surrounded by you is absolute ecstasy. Paradise is personified through flamboyant decorations and the scent of strawberries and books.

He scans every detail of your classroom. The new drawings on the wall, the jumble of recently purchased toys. He sees the new changes you have made in the past year and is shattered to know you were not thinking of him at all. As opposed to every second of his life being enmeshed with you.

Mike soon finds your desk. The first and last place he had ever truly felt happiness. On the surface, some of your clutter had been left behind. Too cute. A colorful planner had been left open to this exact date. A few papers are sat to the side, where students' assessments are in the process of being graded. Most important of all, your thermal scattered with stickers sits on a pained coaster.

Mike knows he should not consider it, no less think about it. You just need to be reminded, that's all.

With a paranoid glance at the door, he takes the orange bottle of sleeping pills from his backpack. He swiftly pours out several onto the desk. Then, he takes a stapler you had left out of reach from children's sticky fingers, crushing the thin white circles into a chunky powder. Your thermal opens with a quiet pop! and Mike pours the residue into your drink. He uses the straw to stir it around for effective measure, trying to ignore the incessant urge to take your straw for... personal use.

A storage closet resides right behind him. Mike leaves everything on your desk as it once was and is swift to hide inside. He leaves the door open a mere creak, within perfect distance to watch his plan unfold.

The minute without you feels torturous, as though it had lasted a millennia. When the aching sound of silence is filled by a creaking door, his heart practically plummets. Through the small peep, you enter his field of vision. You trot over to the iguana enclosure. Saying a quick hello to Mr. Cupcake, before making your way to your desk. Oblivious to the uninvited guest just inches away.

You take a sip from your thermal. Mike cannot find air to breathe or the ability to function.

You take another. This is actually happening.

One more sip. Your pen scribbles on your planner.

You take a sip. It is a blessing straight from God you cannot hear the hyperventilated breaths behind you.

Then, another sip. Holy shit, this is actually happening.

As you work, you reach over to grab some sticky notes. Your elbow accidentally nudges your pen, causing it to fall from your desk and roll across the floor. You stand to retrieve it with a grumble before a sudden wave of lethargy envelops you. It is all too sudden and acute. You have to lean on the edge of your desk to stable yourself.

Before you can question the sudden fatigue, your body fails you. When you inevitably fall, Mike is quick to catch you. Hell, his arms were around you before your legs even wobbled. Slowly, and with loving attentiveness, he guides your limp body to the ground. The adrenaline inside him is so penetrating, that he does not have a moment to process the fact he is touching you.

With you fully unconscious, Mike knows exactly where he'll be heading next. Only now, he'll have an additional passenger with him.

He secures your unconscious form into the back seat of his car. Fastening your seatbelt and triple-checking they are in proper function. Mr. Cookie, or whatever his name is, is in the front seat within his cage. Moving his enclosure and necessities from your classroom was a hassle, as told by the bite mark on Mike's hand. For you, though, he would endure far worse.

With the birds beginning to sing, there is little time before the world wakes up and his intentions are jeopardized. Mike drives off before anyone can see what he has done. Not even he has fully processed what he has done.

Leaving your car, your home, and your life behind, he begins the treacherous and exciting journey back to Utah.

Every car that passes has him gripping the wheel tighter, foot reader to slam harder on the gas. He had already lost you once, he cannot lose you again. Mike does not play music, either. The sounds of your breathing is his new favorite harmony.

He casts a glance in the rear-view mirror every now and then. You're draped among the back of the car, cocooned in the numerous blankets he brought for this trip. Beneath the windows, your head is rested against a fluffy pillow. He even snuggled a few plushies into your arms. The sight is so gut-wrenchingly adorable, Mike nearly crashes the car with how painfully distracting the sight of you is.

This was the state he stayed in for the first several hours of the drive. Mindless driving on freeways, checking on you (as well as continuously cooing over your cuteness), and holding his breath whenever he passes through busy areas or cops. Then, he gets knocked off course.

With blurred vision, you can barely discern where you are.

Sunlight makes you squint. Your mind is messy. You can hear the rumble of a car engine, feel the vibration against your form. The blankets wrapped around you are suffocating. You peel them off from your body, a few random stuffed animals fall to the car floor when you do so.

Mike nearly snaps his neck with how fast he turns around. His efforts to take you away were frivolous, yes, but he was sure he had given you enough pills to sleep through the trip.

"Hey, you're okay. Y-You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay. Okay? Just don't freak out... Please don't freak out."

You do the opposite of what he advised. Little by little, the pieces begin to click together. Panic settles in your stomach like a fresh sheet of snow. Hyperventilating breaths leave your shaking body, accentuated by your frightened whimpers. Who is this man? What the fuck is going on? Tears stream down your face with every question that litters your mind. And every cracked sob you let out is a fatal strike to your assailant's fragile heart.

Mike is quick to comfort you, as you can always count on him to do such. And how badly he wishes to climb into the back seat himself and hold you close. Everything he is doing is for the better, you must know that. As scary as this all may seem for you, he will do whatever it takes to convince you of this truth.

He reaches his hand back to soothe you, only succeeding in the opposite when you cower away from his touch. Mike cannot hide how poignant your rejection is, he is shocked he hadn't broken down into tears alongside you.

"... Are you going to hurt me-?"

"I would never."

He answers without a sliver of hesitation. Your shattered, sugar-sweet voice absolutely destroys him.

The weight of his declaration is so immense that you could almost believe him. You should believe him, as he only tells the utter truth. The fact you have been drugged and shoved into the backseat of a stranger's car, however, convinces you otherwise.

Looking through the window, you take note of the rural area you're in. Nothing but miles of trees to comfort you. No distinct landmarks to help you navigate your location.

Mike oscillates between looking at you and the road. While he's occupied with the road ahead, you take action before thinking thoroughly. Sweltering blankets torn off of your body, you unfasten your seatbelt as silently as you can. You mentally prepare yourself for the turmoil up ahead. Then, within a matter of a single second, you unlock the car door and jump.

Debris slices into you as you fall deeper into the forest. The world becomes a blurred frenzy of trees and cloudy skies. Your frail body is drowsy from the drugs still pumping through your system. Your ribs ache, your ears ring, and you are covered in gashes. Still, survival is the only prospect present in your brain. You pick yourself up from the dirt and dash forward. Never looking back.

April puddles and fallen pinecones ruin your expensive work shoes. Fresh flowers are squished beneath your steps. There is no path you intend to take, you only wish to get as far as you can from that man. Poison ivy and low-hanging branches slash at your skin. You do not think, you only push and push and push. Anywhere away from him.

The second you had opened that car door, Mike slammed down on the brakes. The scream of your name hurts his throat from the sheer volume. To see you jump, leaving him again, sparked fear like no other. He does not even bother to turn off the car or close the door before he is racing after you. He cannot lose you again. He can't, he can't, he can't.

Mike barrels into the forest like a feral animal. He is met with a terrifying sense of déjà-vu. He's seen this movie before, he's heard this song a million times. This dream has haunted him forever. Just when he is inches from touching salvation, you will be snatched away from him. And he will have to watch as his life crumbles before his very eyes.

His legs grow heavier with every step. He screams for you until his voice goes raw. His lungs feel as though they may collapse into themselves. Still, his efforts to find you do not falter. You would have to kill him if you wished to keep him away from you.

A tree branch crunches.

Mike stops dead in his tracks. Listening.

There's a pained whimper. Quiet amongst the soft winds.

He dashes toward the sound. Swift in surging through the steep hills and overgrown forestry in his path.

While you were running, you failed to notice a protruding tree root. When your foot hooks beneath it and sends you tumbling to the ground, you try and scramble to your feet. However, the burst of adrenaline that had gotten you this far could not combat the lethargy still in your body. You lay on your back, exasperated with debility. Entirely paralyzed.

"Y/N! Oh, thank God!" Mike collapses beside you, all while you stare at the stranger in utter terror.

Dirt and sweat paint his body. Eyes blown wide and crazed, his hands reach for you. Fearfully searching for any wounds. One hand cradles your face, caressing your skin with his thumb. The other rests against your hairline, petting the expanse with tender intent. Cries of both relief and terror fill the empty silence. To lose you all over again is a horrifying prospect he cannot fathom the weight of.

"N-... No..." Your voice is weak. Barely able to crawl out of your mouth.

Fingers latched into the mud, you try to drag your body away from this maniac. Mike brings your attempts to a halt, hands still latched onto your body.

"I'll be good, Y/N, I will... Just-Just stay with me!"

Your assailant does not listen to your feeble demands. Instead, Mike wraps his arms around your torso. Further ensnaring you in his locked embrace. He buries his face into your neck and rocks your body back and forth. Trying to soothe you into another slumber. His sniffles are overpowered by his sharp inhales of breath. Consuming your scent.

"You're not leaving me. You're not fucking leaving me!" Mike bawls out.

He is now a complete mess. Face twisted with ugly sobs. All hot tears and running snot.

"Just sleep now, okay? I'm right here..."

Blunt nails dig into your shoulder blades. His weight on top of you is suffocating. Please just love him and never leave him. That is all he could ever ask for, all he could ever want. He has spent so long without the one he loves most, he cannot bear to ever part from them ever again.

With a choked groan, Mike lifts your limp body from the ground. Sniffling reassurances echo as you reach a state of unconsciousness. He lifts you over his shoulder and your body loses all mobility. As he takes you away, your mind fades into a peaceful rest. Escaping is now a pipe dream.

Faint sounds of shuffling are what you're next awoken to. Pipes bang and thump. It is far more quiet than your last conscious encounter.

Darkness pervades your vision. Your body feels weightless, as though you are floating through a dream. You cannot move, no matter your efforts to try. As if your limbs had been glued to the fluffy expanse you've been laid upon. All you are capable of doing is releasing a guttural moan of disdain from the back of your throat.

"Easy, cub. Easy now."

No.

The voice is fluffy and easy. Horrifyingly familiar.

This can't be real; this can't be reality. This cannot be what your life becomes: rotting away in this stranger's embrace.

You were granted several mere seconds of solitude before hands were on your body, once again. The grasp lifts your body, to where your assailant sits behind you and rests your back against his chest. His efforts are gentle. Comforting. Though, the movement still has you wincing in discomfort. You hadn't anticipated how many injuries you had given yourself.

Speckles of your sight return in short spurts. There is light against the darkness, everything is gold. Drowned in the hues of candlelight scattered around the room. The glow is cast against a fuzzy expanse, to where you could almost convince yourself you were in a dream. And my God, do you wish it was.

You miss the rich, headache-inducing colors of your classroom. The judging stares of other parents who drowned their homes in beige decor never felt more comforting. You miss the screeching children with their constant need for attention. Their dramatic tears and obnoxious attitude would bring you peace like no other.

Mike plants his chin against your shoulder and all you can think about is the beautiful life you have lived until this point. His arm slithers across your torso, tightening with vehement need. It is loving in the most suffocating manner. You then hear a bottle unscrew through static noise. shushes you as he presses the lid against your lips. Water cascades into your mouth and down your dry throat, all while Mike presses impassioned kisses to your temple.

"There you go. Very good... You're perfect..." His tone is cordial as he ushers you to drink.

As much as you had tried to fight his attempts to give you water, it has fortunately provided you more clarity. The environment surrounding you fades into something more lucid.

You've been swaddled in a thick comforter. Soft and floral-scented, fresh out of the dryer. The king-size bed is at the end of the room and provides you with a clear view of everything. The lack of windows and decrepit staircase tucked in the corner tell you this is a basement. Soundproofed and locked up, your chances of escape are minimal. He does not want to let you go, that much is for certain.

Across the room is a chunky television. Movie cassettes sit in the cabinet supporting the television, where a newly purchased GameCube is left beside, as well. There's a bookshelf to your left, which is filled with old novels and children's books. Nothing was bought recently. Is there a child in this house? Lego sets and puzzle boxes are stacked next to the shelf. You come to the chilling assumption that it is intended to be something for you to occupy yourself with when he's gone.

Much to your satisfaction, Mike leaves from his spot behind you. He guides you back onto the pillow with romantic, loving ease. A gentle caress to your cheek before he goes. As if he was your doting husband taking care of you while you are ill.

When you look to your right, your heart accelerates when you find your iguana enclosure on top of a rickety table. Thank God he is alright! You do not know what you would do if this man had harmed Mr. Cupcake.

As words have failed you consistently, you whine out like a baby to express your wants. Your assailant's attention is back on you at record speed. The persistent need he has to ensure your comfort is almost pathetic. Teary-eyed and pouty, you reach for the enclosure holding your iguana.

Mike's body goes rigid. A gentle gasp emanates from him.

Are you... Are you reaching for him?

He practically throws himself back onto the bed. Sat beside your laying form, he almost can't bring himself to believe it. His deluded fantasies have bloomed into existence.

"Yes? What do you need, cub?" Please say him. Please say you need him like he needs you.

Mike looks at you and his eyes melt into candy. A gentle smile plastered on his face, he brings his finger up and boops you on the nose. Affectionate is his natural disposition. You're too fucking cute.

Mike had wasted an entire year without you. Too much time spent neglecting you of his love. Oh, you must have been so lonely without him. This is all he has wanted, after all. To take care of you. To take the weight off your shoulders and bring you ease like no other. He will spend the rest of his lifetime making up for the lost time. He would spend forever for you, slaving away to earn your forgiveness.

When you firmly establish what it is you actually want, no amount of sleeping pills in your thermal cup could stop you from seeing how defeated he is. Your rejection cuts like a dagger. Anyone can see this genuine fact. Still, Mike abides by your request. He'd tear mountains asunder for your happiness, after all.

Begrudgingly, he leaves your side. He opens the enclosure with struggle. Too many notches and slots. When he takes Mr. Cupcake into his hands, the iguana squirms and twists. Almost as if the reptile grasped what was happening. He propels his tail like a whip, reaching for the hands around him with his sharp teeth. His nails dig into whatever part of this stranger he can find.

When Mike plops him into your lap, Mr. Cupcake relaxes instantaneously. You snuggle him into your arms and are provided comfort from him, as well. His scaly flesh and jagged spine abrade your face, but you have never known a more soothing embrace. You plant a myriad of kisses and adoring nuzzles on Mr. Cupcake's skin. At the same time, you ignore the third wheel standing there.

Mike watches this and is nearly sick with want. Never in his life had he ever thought he'd wish to be an iguana this bad. The things he would give and the things he would take to be on the receiving end of your affections bridges off insanity.

Averting his gaze, he cannot watch the scene anymore. He had never expected to be so envious of a goddamn reptile. Mike grants you the time you want with that prickly bastard and leaves the basement. You hear the tumultuous clatter of all the locks and bolts being put into place once he is gone.

The time without Mike is something you do not take for granted. Silence is precious, solitude even more so. During his absence, you reel through the supercut of your life. You cannot find this man in any of your memories. You do not remember that face no matter how hard you try. He is the bad guy, the villain. The very definition of 'stranger-danger' you teach your students about.

When Mike returns, all of that disturbed turbulence comes with him.

In his hands is a cracked dinner plate with spaghetti and meatballs splat on top. The closer he gets, the faster your heart pumps. Setting the plate down on the bedside table, he takes your iguana from your tight hold. Mr. Cupcake still thrashes in his grasp, trying to bite and hit wherever he can. Good boy.

When the beast is locked away, Mike is idyllic to be alone with you again. He acts as though the current circumstances were romantic, where you and him are enjoying an amorous vacation. He then places the meal carefully in your lap, wary of the hot plate burning your precious skin.

"You need to eat, cub. You've been through so much. Too much." Mike's hand finds your face again, thumb caressing your cheek.

His mere words make you want to vomit your breakfast all over what is supposed to be your dinner. Still, you obey and begin eating. The dish is mediocre, at best. You've tasted better from the kitchen play set where your students wear chef hats and cook plastic food. Kidnapped and trapped in a basement, however, you'll take whatever scraps you can get.

Eyes glued to your plate, you do not watch as Mike takes a movie from the cabinet and pops it into the VCR. "The Immortal and the Restless" whirs to life as he returns to where you sit. Mike lays down beside you and joins you beneath the warm comforter. He takes the fork from your hands. A shiver cascades up his arm upon the faint contact made by your fingers touching. Oh, it is love. He then begins to feed you. There is nothing but sugary madness in his eyes.

Bite by bite, you are forced to watch soap operas and listen to nauseating love declarations.

"I was so alone out there without you, baby."

If only you hadn't been so fooled by a security vest and pretty brown eyes, you could be with your students right now. You could be free right now.

If only.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ PRAYING STRAIGHT TO GOD THAT

MAYBE YOU'LL COME BACK AROUND . . . ❞

no one asked for this but idc hehe.

gif creds :: mike.

Bitchy & mean reader

Y/N was a spoiled brat

She got what she wanted

And she destroyed whoever got in her way

She wasn't nice

Popular because people feared her

Never bothered to have many friends

She doesn't do the fake shit

Boys wanted her

And wanted her bad

But she'd ruin them in seconds

Leave them wishing they never tried in the first place

The day she set her eyes on Eddie Munson

She knew he had no option but to be hers

She fucked him on the first date

Had him crying and begging in seconds

He was a gorgeous crier

Didn't bother to listen to the rumours when he came to school, neck covered in hickies

His puppy eyes following her every move

It happened to every guy in the school

Many felt bad for Eddie

Until they noticed he got special treatment

She actually talked to him the next day

Shoving her tongue down his throat in the middle of class

Grabbing his hand and moving it under her skirt in the bathroom stall

He felt like he died and went to hell

This girl was no way making it to heaven

She loved that he was a soft boy

Quickly protecting him everywhere they went

Two boys were shoving each other in the hallway, one ended up smacking Eddie into a locker

He groaned as he held his head

"WATCH WHAT YOU ARE DOING YOU PRICKS" she screamed. Shoving both boys as hard as she could.

Both smacking into the lockers behind them

Her heated glare disappeared in seconds when her eyes landed on his puppy eyes

"you okay baby?"

Or when a girl decided to trip Eddie in the cafeteria

Laughing as he landed harshly on the ground

She marched over to the table in seconds

Grabbing the girl by her hair and yanking her off her seat

"YOU TOUCH HIM AGAIN AND I'LL KILL YOU!"

Her eyes and tone soft as she helped him up

"it's okay baby. Let's go home"

Or when a server had the nerve to get his order wrong

Eddie excitedly took the bun off of his burger, preparing to drown it in ketchup

A small frown took over his face

"baby what's wrong?" She caught on quickly

"it has mustard. I hate mustard" he admitted quietly

Grabbing a knife and preparing to scrape it off

But she snatched the plate away, marching up to the counter

"BABY ITS FINE" he yelled quickly

Not wanting her to cause a scene

Her pink heels clicked on the floor as she waited

"can I help you?" The server asked

With a polite smile, "my boyfriend asked for no mustard. Would you be able to make him a new one please?"

She may be a bitch but she had manners

Unless they didn't have manners back

"I'm sorry ma'am but he never said that"

"you calling my boyfriend a liar?"

Eddie heard her voice getting mad

Quickly sliding out of the booth to calm her down

"baby it's fine" he said sweetly. Kissing her cheek

"no baby. You want no mustard and you ordered it with no mustard" she said sternly

"no he didn't" the server snapped back

"YES HE DID! HE WANTS A BURGER, SLIGHTLY PINK WITH NO FUCKING MUSTARD!"

Another time they forgot his extra pickles

"is your food right baby?" She asked sweetly

Her pink nails holding his hand

He nodded and lied through his teeth

"perfect"

She eyed his plate

"did you get your extra pickles?" She asked, noticing his plate didn't seem to have a single pickle on it

"no but that's okay. I don't really want them anymore"

But her ass was already walking away

Her tiny skirt flowing on her hips as she walked with purpose

Seconds later coming back with a plate of pickles

Free of charge :)

Eddie simply got whatever he asked for

She had money and she'd buy him anything he wanted

The blue guitar he kept seeing at the mall?

She bought it a day later

The leather jacket he tried on but put back when he saw the price?

She yanked it right off the rack, shoving it in her cart

If he wanted three types of candies at the movie theater, her baby got all three

She was a bitch

A stone cold mean asshole

But with Eddie?

That was her baby

And she would cherish him for life

Don’t yell at me tumblr, there’s no nips or dicks.

Come get your Steddie fix. This took forever.

i want him.

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand liars, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you introduced yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

This time again, loneliness is your sole partner.

Paul Dano characters + tumblr posts part 2

They killed the olive trees. They killed the little children. They killed the unborn. They killed the father. They killed the mother. They killed the journalist. They killed the journalists entire family. They killed all the aunts and uncles. They killed the doctors. They killed the soul of his soul. They killed the groom. They killed the bride. They killed the cats. They killed the elderly people older than their apartheid state. They killed the thousands of memories painted on the walls. They killed 30,000+ Palestinians that we will never get back. [@/ missfalsteenia on X. 01/07/24.]

Android Boss x human! Worker

Prompt: Technology has taken over. Humans are now nearly obsolete. Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, the world has become a much safer, healthier place. Most of the worlds main issues have been solved with robots now in control.

Androids are the highest tier of robots, they manage the big jobs. Corporate managers, bosses, governors and lawyers etc. humans are not required to work but are given jobs if they so desire.

Overall most people are happy. Except you of course, because no one said a clingy android was part of your job description.

——————-

“Worker B75C3 please report to the main office. I respeat, Worker B75C3 please report to the main office thank you.”

.

.

.

.

.

Ughhhhhhh

“What is it now Supervisor Bot?”

“B75! I told you to call me by my issued name!”

With a resigned sigh you cleared your throat.

“Right. What is it now Jessie?”

The Android, your boss, Jessie, beamed with his artificial teeth. It was almost obnoxious how happy he seemed just hearing you say his name.

To be fair you didn’t dislike the droid necessarily. Even though you did. He just made your job 10x harder than it should’ve been.

Calling you up nearly everyday for “a performance evaluation”, despite you being one of the best workers the company had to offer. That was human at least.

Purposefully bumping into you in the conference room, spilling coffee on your clothes so you had to get a new pair, never to see the old ones again.

Not to mention he was just so…realistic. And clingy. It unnerved you.

To be honest you were pretty sure it was his eyes that unnerved you the most though. Green, almost hazel eyes, that blinked regularly, naturally, darted around nervously under your gaze, and even dilated in the sun. They were too real.

It was gross.

Now, you wouldnt say you were a Android hater. (Except you were). You just found that making the bots look almost identical to humans was insane. The only way you can even tell that they weren’t human was their finger tips and tongues. Both of which had thin circular glowing plates, that served to simulate taste and sensations.

The tongue one was a newer upgrade. You weren’t sure why your boss had it.

An almost-human cough disrupted your staring, (glaring), and your eyes snapped to focus on Jessie, who’s own fake eyes lidded slightly at you, a wobbly, embarrassed grin strapped on his face. You couldnt help but notice he didn’t have his usual tie on.

He looked weirdly disheveled. His skin was just a bit too shiny, almost like sweat.

“The fucks wrong with you?”

“Language B75…”

You rolled your eyes and plopped down into, your seat, opposite of the androids desk.

“Cut the crap dude whyd you call me up here?”

Normally you wouldn’t be able to talk to a superior like this, but your “relationship” with Jessie was a special case.

He let you get away with pretty much anything at this point. Not that you used that power for more than a couple naps.

The bot looked like he was overheating with the way he was fidgeting about though. Avoiding eye contact half the time and staring right at you the rest.

“I was hoping you could humor me…on something..”

Not again.

“As you can see I recently got the new upgrade,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis, showing off the currently dull finger sensors he now had. “And I was hoping you would let me…Test them out. On you..”

Realistically you should’ve been more put off by his request. But you’d unfortunately gotten used to the bots curiosities. He was a bit of a human fanatic. Always wanting to try these expiraments with you. Only you.

And realistically you should’ve declined too. Had he not also offered you a bonus.

“Fine whatever, get up. I wanna get this over with asap.”

“Really? I mean, of course! Right away!”

Jessie was terrible at hiding how eager he sounded. Not that he probably tried to hide it really.

With a peppy smile he shot out from his chair, and speedily skipped over to you. He stood infornt of you, hoisting you up from your seat, much to your own chagrin, and hovered anxiously for a moment or two.

His eyes darted all over your face. Maybe checking for any possible doubt or hesitance. Not that you cared though.

Getting very fed up with his stalling you thrusted your hands out and grabbed onto his own, forcing his hands to clasp firmly on.

“Hurry the fuck up.”

He didn’t bother scolding you this time.

You could see why. In your own mild disgust you watched as his receptors flowered a pretty blue, as his fingers tips rubbed over your knuckles and palm, crawling slowly up your wrist. He traced the lines of your palms, mapping them out like a fortune teller would in a shady carnival booth.

His hands circled and slid up your arms slowly, as if mapping out each new texture or scar. He paused at the underside of your wrist, pressing down slightly on the joint and eliciting a brief exhale as he felt your pulse drum lightly beneath his sensors.

Jessie shuddered for a moment at the sensation before moving on.

He took his time. Too much time in your opinion as you felt your back begin to hurt from standing for so long.

“Are you done yet? My backs killing me.”

His green eyes snapped to you so fast you almost got vertigo.

“Why does your back hurt?” His voice was breathy and low, and his eyes lacked their usual warmth for a second. Though you chose to believe you were imaging that.

“Gee it’s not like I sit at a desk all day with no proper back support.” Irritation dripped from your tongue like poison into Jessie’s ears, his fingers locking slightly before he relaxed with a sweet, nervous smile.

“…I’m a trained masseuse you know…if you want I could..try and relieve some of the pain? Free of charge obviously..haha.” His awkward, antsy tone left the joke to fall flat though you didn’t mind much, too excited about the prospect of getting some pain relief, even if it was from a creep like Jessie.

“Say less.” You meant that literally. Yanking your arms from his stunned metal ones you plopped down back into your chair, sat reverse and leaned your front into the cushiony back.

You missed the blue that soaked his eyes for a moment, a warning that went ignored by your mechanical boss.

With a excited exhale, Jessie rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward. His hands hovered hesitantly above your shoulders for a very brief moment, before finally descending with a firm pressure deliciously against your spine.

You groaned pleasantly, eyes screwing up slightly at the relief on your poor back, ignorant to the borderline short circuiting bot who twitched and panted at the indirect-direct contact.

His skilled fingers worked slowly at first. Sticking to a specific part of your back before venturing else where. He relished in your groans, and the fact that it was him making you feel good. Him. Not your stupid coworker. Or the assistant bot. Or that delivery boy who he sees you sometimes talking to and wishes he could just-

“Ah! Dude not so hard?!” Your barking paused his frenzied “massage”, if it could even be called that.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry B75, I just…”

The wobbly grin that appeared on his soft features was definitely cause for concern.

“I can’t really hit the right pressure points, through your clothes…is it okay if you..lower your shirt..slightly?”

“What? Yeah fine whatever just don’t pull that shit again.”

Holyshit you actually agreed

Jessies “breathing” quickly became erratic at the sight of your bare shoulders and back, face burning in a blue hue, and his pupils dilating violently before he twitched and fell to the floor.

You jumped at the loud crashing sound, bolting up with a readjustment of your shirt before staring down at the spasming bot in disbelief

You nudged his leg with your foot before sighing exasperatedly and walking over to the intercom.

“Maintenance in the Main office , building code 772E. Code 772E, Maintenance in the Main office. Thank you.”

The speaker buzzed, confirming they were sending someone up, and you took an extra moment to gaze at the android slapped over the floor.

You scoffed.

“Damn bag of bolts.”

——————————

Spider Soccoro

Spider x Human!Gn!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

TW/CW: angst? with happy ending, reader is disabled (leg deformity, they can't walk long), reader is in an existential crisis, both are 18-19, one of reader's leg is bigger than the other.

I feel like reader's only personality is to be disabled??? i really hope it doesn't look like it to you. i feel like this is also cringe. I have no idea how to make romantic scene guys I'm sorry i've never held anyone's hand. I also feel like he's ooc

i got some kind of blank page syndrome and couldn't write anything for days (months) and i feel like i regressed in writing

I also really need to publish this it's taking so much place in my drafts. It's not amazing but it's not so bad either. Don't worry, Ethan Landry fic are coming.

(28/10/2023) (9 172 words)

Everyone was in a rush at the lab. You knew they were preparing an expedition. Norm would come talk to you soon, you wonder what stupid excuse he'll invent this time.

Something along the lines of 'it's dangerous', 'we won't be long', bla bla bla. You're used to it by now.

You suppose you're old enough to go back on Earth, now. But you were staying here with Norm since your parents did so years before. They died in the big war with Jake Sully. Well, your mother did survive, as to why you're here. But she only had the strength to give you life before losing her. So, yeah, you never really had a family, nor did Spider.

So, to compensate, he founds himself the Sullys, his new family. And you had Norm and your studies. It was all you had here. The problem is that what you considered your true family was him, Spider. He hated humans. Even though he was one. And, somehow, you understand him. So, you suspected he wasn't really fond of you. At least not anymore.

Especially since you were continuing your researches on Pandora's fauna and flora instead of simply accepting it and living with it as it is. Without trying to understand it and simply living with it.

Norm enters your dorm and smiles at you, as you predicted. You smile back. He starts his speech as usual: asking if you're okay, if you slept well, if your researches are progressing, if you're not too bored. And finally, he tells you the real reason of his presence here.

"We discovered this grove, you know ? Plants out there have exceptional medical virtues that we're yet to study.

-Good, when are we going ? "

The embarrassed face of Norm told you that it wasn't that simple.

"About that..."

Norm clears his throat. He begins a round walk in front of you to evacuate his anxiety.

"You don't have an avatar. It's well too dangerous to bring you with us. With the others, we decided that you should stay here. It's the best for you. And, you know, with your leg... he scratchs his forehead, embarrassed. We won't be long anyway and we'll bring back some of the flowers to study them here. You won't miss anything.

You knew he was lying. Firstly, despite the fact that you don't own an avatar, everyone on the team have one. For this reason, they won't have any difficulties in escorting you. Moreover, there is few to little predators interested in harming Humans. The only danger to which you are exposed therefore comes down to the environment in general. Which is mountains, severe weather, falls or any other natural obstacle that are easily avoidable things if you are on the back of one of the avatars of the team.

Secondly, you know for a fact that Norm won't collect any flowers. He forbids it. To him, and the team, disrupt the natural cycle of Pandora is a direct outrage to Eywa. If a plant grows at a certain place, then you shouldn't disturb it. Eywa knows and predict everything. Each molecule has a place and a role to play in this planet. At best, Norm will bring back a single petal to study but that will be all.

Clearly, you're not allowed to come because you're a burden.

"I'll be alone?"

He looks surprised for a moment. Norm probably wasn't expecting you to be so cooperative. But hey, what more can you do? They all already think you're a kid, freaking out now will only confirm that.

"Mike will be there. If you need help, just go to him directly in his quarters."

Mike is unsociable. He never leaves his laboratory except for vital needs. Plus, even though he stays with you, he's really sarcastic and sometimes hurtful. What Norm is telling you is that you'll be alone.

"When will you be back?

-Probably in two or three days. It won't be long."

Norm smiled softly at you. You don't smile back. He places his hand on your head, as if to reassure you.

"Don't do anything stupid while we're gone, huh? I'm counting on you."

Either way, it's not like there's much you can do here. There is nothing stupid to do. Norm tells you that you'll have to warn Spider if you see him, then he smiles at you, taking you in his arms. His hand strokes your back comfortingly.

"We'll be back soon, don't worry. If you're bored, I have old movie tapes in my room. But not a word to Jake, that idiot would be able to steal them from me."

You believe it was a joke. After all, you and Jake weren't close. Since he started a family, he seems to pretend to know nothing about Humans. Besides, why would you be friends with a forty-something married with children? It was obvious that you weren't going to tell him anything.

But Norm was repeating how Jake too was disabled and how you two could bond and he'd teach you plenty of things and... Seriously, what the hell ? No, you won't bond with him. You don't care that he was in a wheelchair for Eywa's sake. It's not a funny common point.

And you found it mostly humiliating how Norm simply saw you as the fragile weak kid. You have a personality too, you're not only disabled. You like things, you do things in your free time. You're not dying. But he seems to forget that too often. You're nineteen (less ? or more? You can't tell) ! You're not a kid anymore, you know how to handle yourself!

After a few final goodbyes, the avatars leave the lab. You watched them leave from the windows, tears of frustration buried deep inside of you. It was so unfair how you were always alone. You were born here. You have the right to want to explore, right? But no, always always always alone. It's frustrating.

Besides, you didn't feel comfortable alone here. There was not a sound. Only the fine roar of the machines in the background. You could hear your heartbeat as if shared by a speaker. With every step you took, the metal floor echoed throughout the base. You couldn't stand the noise: it made you anxious. You had the terrible feeling of being lost, alone, in the middle of space.

Finally, you returned to your room. You threw yourself head first on the bed, smothered your tears in your cushion and then slept for a while. To lull yourself to sleep, you ran your fingers through your hair and scratched your head. When you woke up hours later, nothing had changed. That same anxiety-inducing silence still resided. You stood up, then stared dreamily at the vegetation outside the base from the main hall window.

To be a Na'vi, what a dream. Browse these lands without worrying about anything. Flying on the back of an Ikran. To jump, climb, run in Pandora. Breathe its air. What would you give to be able to do so. What would you give to finally live.

To take your mind off things, you immerse yourself in your studies. You always do that, anyway. There was this flower which, surprisingly, was curative for Human but toxic for the Na'vi.

You begin by taking various samples when the heavy door of the laboratory opens with a loud hiss. Spider comes in, a big silly smile on his face that quickly fades when he sees you. There's not a sound when your eyes meet and a duel begins.

You, wondering where he had been wandering again to come back this dirty. Him, probably thinking that you have no life to work all day like you do. As usual, his cheeks are bright red. Because of his running around all day, he always come back sweating bucket and looking like a crayfish. He looks away first to rush straight to his room, without a word. You chuckle bitterly.

Yeah, he really hates you.

It was several hours later that you decided to stop your activities. You had tried to waste as much time as possible on that damned plant but who were you trying to lie to. It was terribly pointless, brimming with boredom.

You didn't check to see what Spider was up to since he got here. You were hoping he had showered. At least the body. He had a habit of putting his dirty hands all over the lab. You complain but sometimes you wish he had his hands in your business. At least you two would talk. Even for something as simple as scolding him.

He was the only boy your age. You used to play as kids. But with years, you drifted apart. As soon as you were both fifteen, towards puberty, he left and preferred his adventures. Somehow, you can't blame him. You would have done the same if you could.

The lab was still quiet. Too calm, perhaps. Your mind wandered to the boy living here. How was he so quiet? Usually he enjoys jumping and running around. Maybe you're disturbing him? He's not used to you two being alone together in the lab. And since you don't talk to each other as much anymore, maybe he's embarrassed to go out?

It's silly, you live here and it's impossible to avoid someone on such a small base. You see each other constantly. Well, if he doesn't love you, there's nothing you can do about it. Despite your sadness. You smile weakly. It's that you two had fun when you were kids. You so wish you could talk to him without just asking about Norm or the team…

Ready to go back to your room, you check one last time that you've put the equipment away correctly before turning around. Your action barely started that your chest collides with someone's body. Your heart misses a beat.

You jump and step back, your lower back hitting the desk causing a whine of pain to escape from your throat. You close your eyes, catching your breath as your hand rests on your chest as if to stop your heart from breaking out. Has he been there long? He was waiting behind your back without saying anything? Why get so close to you?

"Spider!" you sigh. "Don't do that again, I almost had an attack…"

He stands in front of you, arms crossed high over his bulging chest and chin proud. Why is he standing like that? Who is he trying to impress? You look him up and down for a moment. He cleaned himself and he doesn't smell bad. He really showered ? That's a miracle. Your gaze must have been more insisting than you thought since he seems to curl up on himself, lowering his eyes to the ground.

"You uh… do you need anything?" you ask, calming your heartbeat still rapid after such a fright.

“Where's everyone? He asks. Of course he'd ask that.

You pass by him, towards the hallway of the dormitories. You don't show it but you are terribly uncomfortable talking to him. You're embarrassed ? You can't really pinpoint it.

-They're gone exploring a place. They should be back in a few days." you answer without looking at him.

Not a sound. Yet you know he's still there, in front of the desk, staring at you. What was he waiting for? He acted weird. Spider was surprising, it's the least you could say, but he's not one to sneak up on people. Usually he jumps on them screaming.

"You're alone ?" To this, you only respond with a hum.

You didn't expect the discussion to last this long to be honest. You who wanted him to talk to you so bad, were more uncomfortable than anything else.

Recently, you have memories of your childhood that come back when you look at him so you avoid his face as much as possible. It was last night, an old memory came back to you. The two of you, hiding under the bed. You were laughing for nothing. You must have been ten or eleven. You kissed before giggling like idiots.

"But Mike is in his room." you add. Even though he knew as well as you that meant you were alone.

You don't know why you remembered this moment. It was weird too, considering Spider was with Kiri now.

"Where did they go?

-I don't know, Spider. They went to explore somewhere."

It was as if he wanted to force the discussion. He followed you down the hall until you came to your bedroom door. He was behind you again. His chest inches from your back. You wondered for a moment why he seemed so attached to you.

"You uh… Do you want to come with us later? We're going to watch the eclipse and it's really beautiful so…

The face of the Sullys appears before your eyes like a distant memory. You try to unlock your room but the presence of the boy behind you stresses and disconcerts you.

"Thank you Spider, I'll consider it.

-Oh, you have something to do first? What are you working on?

You frown before finally turning to face him. He takes a few steps back noting your abusive proximity. His face was flushed but his eyes never left yours.

-I thought you weren't interested?

It's not that you thought, in fact, you were sure of it. He had told you himself that what you were doing was boring, several times. So you were rather surprised.

"It's just…" Finally, he sighs and doesn't finish his sentence. "We'd be really happy to spend time with you."

You had doubts on that. Neteyam is the portrait of his mother. He doesn't like humans. For him, you're an alien. Lo'ak probably doesn't know you. At least he must not have noticed your existence. You're just a regular scientist to him, like the dozens there already is.

Kiri only talks to you when she wants to see her mother. And even then, she usually asks her questions to Norm. Tuk has surely never seen you. Neytiri, her mother, doesn't like knowing her close to you and to 'sky people' in general.

And Spider, ah, Spider. Spider ignores you. He never asked you to leave the lab with him again since your 'separation'. The day he decided he wasn't your friend anymore.

"Oh really ?" It was ironic. And it was obvious.

Spider was embarrassed. Your fault, surely. But you had your reasons. You didn't give yourself the opportunity to think about it, but it had hurt you. Enormously. It's so hard to be in your position. The only child like you, your age, decided to cut you out of his life overnight.

You only have him. He's the only reference you have. You don't even know what human children look like! You wanted to grow with him, discover Pandora with him! But, hey, guess he doesn't want someone who can't even move. It's humiliating to think that the only young person of the same race as you, hates you. Would it have been the same on Earth? You would have been hated?

You spent years growing up alone, without friends. Because Norm isn't for sure close to a friend. He can be considered as your father figure but not someone you'd share your secrets with. When was the last time you played hide and seek ? When was the last time you played tag ?

You don't know, days, months and years are all blur in your mind. Everyday is the same. Days are mixing into each other.

"They don't really have opportunities to talk to you, so the eclipse is a good way to get to know each others. The Sully are really cool, you know.

Probably even nicer than you if he abandoned you for them. He's lying, too. Because there are plenty of opportunities here in the lab as you never move far. If they really wanted to talk to you, they would have.

-I can't walk in Pandora with my leg, Spider. You know it." your tone was harsh, wanting to make him realize just how little he knows of you now.

The truth is, you can walk. You can try to train your body to walk longer but you need to be accompanied to do so. You can't walk alone in the forest of Pandora. You can fall, you can get attacked, get lost. Anything. But nobody wants to help you. So you're stuck in the lab and the more you're stuck, the less you walk and you lose the habit of walking and your body weaken. It's a vicious circle, really.

Norm simply gives you an treatment and everyone call it a day. It's a sort of machine which massage your muscles to soften or muscle them or something. You don't do it anymore. So it's not important. You don't blame Norm, he's a busy man. He tells you to apply some cream to ease the pain, you don't do it either.

All of this to say, you won't go with him. Because there is high chance your leg will just give out before them and it'll be the most shameful event of your life. And since thinking is all you can do here, you'll think about it until your death. So it's a big no.

-But I thought you could still walk?

-But I thought I was 'too weak and broken' ?"

Spider is left speechless before you. Mouth gaping and searching his words. He said that to you multiple times as kids. Norm had told him you weren't, which was true. But Spider meant no harm by saying that as you'd always tell him he was 'stupid'. It was a fair exchange, really. Just two stupids kids nagging each other. So yeah, maybe you went really low on this one.

But you were hurt and you weren't kids anymore.

You already spent years alone, what's some more ? You could talk to him, tell him how you missed him, how you forgive him and go with him stare at the eclipse, but you don't. Instead, you widen the gap between you. Probably because you hate yourself so you want to ruin your own life, loving to be tortured. The door finally unlock before you.

You look at Spider one last time, offering him a tight lip smile and enters your room, closing the door shut behind you. You stay put beside the door, staring at your room mindlessly. You had no reasons to come here in the first place, but you wanted to escape him.

Glaring at your bed, you decide another nap would do you good. You just have to make the days pass by quicker so everyone come back and you're not alone with him anymore.

Sometimes, you wonder how they're doing on Earth. If it would have been better if you were there instead of Pandora. Because being on a beautiful planet like this one without being able to explore it and being considered an alien is pure torture. The worst is that you'll never get an avatar, it being too expensive. Or so the other scientists told you.

You'll just stay here, being the fragile human, weaker, smaller, with a shorter life.

Then you think about Spider: Why did he suddenly want to bring you outside ? Why did he want you to be with his friends ? Why did he even talk to you ? Why did he leave you ? And, finally, the question haunting you, would he do it again ?

Staring at the cream on your nightstand, you think putting some again wouldn't do harm. Just in case you want to try to walk outside. Just in case. Staring at your leg with your medicine smeared in your palm, you observe how it's all swollen. You poke it with your index, a mark is left.

You massage your sore muscle, asking yourself if this is really working or if that is only a placebo effect. Once everything is done, you place your legs beside each others and compare them. You chuckle humorlessly in seeing the size difference.

You'll never be able to explore Pandora.

When you were still a kid, Spider and you asked for a room with windows. Lot of them. This way, even past your curfew you'd still be able to see outside. Even though you had bunk bed, you were always finding a way to sleep on the ground to face outside.

Tomorrow, we'll go there, he'd say, I'll show you this tree, he'd say, Jake brought us there, he'd tell you. And he was always honoring his words and brought you everywhere.

For a while, it was perfect. Because as you were always walking, your legs were gaining muscle ! But Spider always wanted to go further and further and further to the point where he just couldn't take you with him.

You didn't understand at first because he always had time for you. He was having fun with his 'siblings', the sully, but he would still come back to the lab to play with you. But then he just stopped. When he was coming back to the lab, it was really late in the evening and he was out like a light.

Then he grew up and you went separate ways, he had his own room, you had yours. And no windows could be seen in yours. Because now, you hate looking outside.

You don't want to sleep, but you're bored and wants to pass the day. You walk mindlessly in circle, thinking of what you could do without leaving your room. At first, you try to paint, but you're quickly bored. You try to read a book but as you already read them multiple times, you're quickly bored, too.

You write, draw, try to sleep but you can't shake the uneasy feeling inside of you. Why did he come talk to you ? What does he want ? You're on your back, slotted comfortably between your cushions when you realize that your throat is dry.

You're thirsty. So you have to drink, outside of your room. You sigh, passing your hand on your forehead. You hope deeply Spider left because you seriously don't want to talk to him right now.

You get up without a sound, putting your ear against the door to see if someone's here. No sound, good. You rush straight to the kitchen like area. You're delighted when it is indeed confirmed that no one is inside.

No one is inside.

You should have checked before because outside the base, a few meters away from the windows, you see Spider, Kiri and Lo'ak sat on the grass laughing together. You tense, you turn your back to them, praying they don't see you.

You grab a glass of water at the speed of light, but too slowly as the heavy door of the base open. You drink it in one time, put it back on the counter and start leaving.

"Hi...! calls Kiri, embarrassed. She knew you were trying to leave, that's why she sounds sorry.

You freeze. You can't ignore her, she did nothing wrong. You'd just be mean. So you turn your head a little, smiling politely. Spider isn't here, nor is Lo'ak. You're reassured.

-Hi Kiri. Norm is not here at the moment but you have free access to the laboratory if you want. you recite, used to this same discussion.

-I know, Spider told me."

She was oddly embarrassed. Now it was starting to get really weird. First Spider and then Kiri? Why do they all look uncomfortable? Did you do something ? Do you have something on your face? Kiri was the kind of person to be quite frank with other. She wasn't mean by any ways, of course, not to you at least. She was simply honest. So you know something is up when she doesn't look you in the eyes.

You stare at the security displate on the door behind her to distract yourself, how in case of a fire the exit is in the common area, how the masks allowing you to breath the outside air can also filter the smoke.

And Kiri doesn't say anything, but the door open another time. Spider enters and you want to flee at the sight. You purse your lips, not knowing if the discussion was over or not. Kiri looked like she wanted to tell you something but she wasn't uttering a word. Is it rude of you to leave ?

You try to read the security displate again, extinguishers are a little everywhere on the base. Did a fire already start here ? It's possible, after all. Still, it seems impossible as every scientist here is cautious.

As you were engrossed in your reading, a shock-like launch take over your leg. You grit your teeth and frown, hoping no one notices. You hated being seen like this.

Especially in front of the Na'vi, in this case Kiri. The Omatikaya were strong, proud. You couldn't even stand for more than twenty/thirty minutes.

So you didn't like hanging out with the Sullys. They ran, jumped and played happily all over Pandora. When it was impossible for you to do so. But it was your planet, too.

Kiri clears her throat, giving a look to Lo'ak still outside in the grass. He was laughing. At you ? You don't know, but Kiri seemed to be asking him for help. Are you making her nervous ? Now, you feel bad. You didn't do anything, you don't want her to be uncomfortable to just talk to you.

You don't know where is Spider, you don't want to look for him. You just know he's in the room with you.

-By the way, tonight we're all going to observe the eclipse so I thought you could come? I'm sure you'd have a lot of fun. she tried to sound casual but his words sounded fake, as if repeated. Why is she offering you to come? You're not even friends. Did Spider ask her to do so?

-Thank you Kiri, Spider already offered to me. I think I'll pass my turn. There will always be other eclipses in the future. you stay silent, analyzing her body language. Is there... A problem ?

Kiri shakes her head, assuring you that everything's fine. But you can't believe her when they've been acting so strange. Did Spider talk about you to her ? And if yes, why? And what did he say ?

The three of you are staring at each other in utter silence. Your two interlocutors deeply uncomfortable and getting fidgety. Kiri gives you a tight lip smile, as if she knew how weird and awkward the whole situation was. As if she's giving you support.

You then stare at Spider, who you tried to forget a few minutes ago. Maybe he could answer your confusion as he seems to be the one linking everything together. He smiles at you, cheeks once again bright red. Eywa, this is just too embarrassing.

"I'll have to go back to my room so..." you say, already backing off, thumb pointing toward your fleeting.

You don't 'have' to go back but you really want to avoid this mood. You might die from embarrassment in being stared at by two people without them talking.

Your leaving awake Kiri. She almost scream at you to wait and you halt in your track, startled by her sudden outburst. You think she is blushing, terribly uncomfortable, but it's hard to tell as her skin is blue. But it look like it's now a little more purple. Truly fascinating.

-I think Spider wanted to show you something. Right Spider ? Kiri exclaims, staring insistently at the boy sitting on a high chair a few feet away from you.

-Me ? No, why ?

-I'm sure you do, come on, I know you remember…" Kiri gritted her teeth, glaring at the boy. She was almost desperate, wanting him to help her out of the hole she was digging.

What is happening ? What are they talking about ? Something to show you ? Is that why Spider been so weird to you since this morning ? Why didn't he just showed it to you? He doesn't have to ask Kiri for help.

-I don't think that is... he's cut off by the cold tone of Kiri.

-Spider...

With the death glare she sent him, he quickly stood up away from the chair. He looks behind him, to the window, Lo'ak smiles at him. Why isn't he just coming in ? Why is he just laughing at everything going on ? Is this an inside joke ? You don't find it funny. Are they making fun of you ?

Spider walks up to you, step by step while Kiri back off. He clears his throat, that's when you notice he's hiding something in the pit of his hand.

-I did… well, no. I found, yeah, I found that and kinda thought about you, well, about your behavior ? But, uh, so I took it. he lifts his hand to your, a bracelet in his palm. Here. you frown.

-You found a bracelet already made? Isn't it just someone else's bracelet ?

How, in this huge and vast forest, did he even find it ? And what does he even mean by your behaviour ?

-No, I...

-You could get in trouble Spider, you should try to see if someone lost it.

You were worried because even thought Spider tried to remove you from his life, you were still scared for him. He was a human, he wasn't accepted in the Omaticaya tribe. If one of the Na'vi found out he 'stole' something, he'll be done for. He's been mean to you, but you know he doesn't deserve to be alone.

And why is Kiri cheering him up. Isn't she supposed to tell him it's bad ? Is she trying to sabotage him? No, she wouldn't do that. Well, she doesn't really look like she'd be mean anyway.

Kiri rolls her eyes and shakes her head. You don't understand.

-Seriously Spider, you should put it back where you found it. you insist.

He closes his eyes shut and sigh. Head going low. He looked frustrated and embarrassed. You noticed that Kiri walked away to leave you two more privacy. You preferred when she was closer.

-Okay, maybe I... didn't find it.

This make no sense. He did it himself ? Someone gifted it to him ? In both case, it's nice. So why would he lie to you on something like this ? What's got into him today ?

-Why would you lie to me ? on something like that, that is. It's just a small bracelet, nothing to be lying for.

-Listen, I... I made it. For you. Kiri helped. Please, come with us watch the eclipse tonight. The Sully want to meet you.

Meet you? But you're here. You never go far. They already met you. What is this about ? Is this bracelet a simple gift or something with a deeper meaning ? You know Na'vi have certain traditions, like gift giving to court a mate. But you're not his mate and Spider isn't really a Na'vi, still, he lives like one.

But most importantly, aren't Kiri and Spider together ? Are you misinterpreting things ? Surely. Because why would he starts to court you after avoiding you for years ? When he's already in a relationship! Is he trying to reconnect with you? Or he simply realized that you're the only one to be of the same race as him and he has no other choice.

It's sad but it's a truth. He can't mate with a Na'vi, he doesn't have an avatar. You're his only choice. But you don't want to be the last option. You don't want him to choose you just because you're the two only humans. You'd rather see him ignore you for years again.

-So? Will you come ?

-I don't think.... You start but he cuts you off.

-Why ? I'll carry you on my back if you want ! You want to roll your eyes at the ridiculous aspect of it all.

-Why are you insisting so much Spider ?

-I'll even give you foot massage !

-Ew! You and Kiri exclaim in unison. Spider smiles at your reactions and without really realizing it, you lightly smile as well.

-I swear you'll have fun. Please." he asks you one last time.

So you accepted. Because you realized that you still wanted to be his friend. Because you miss his company. Because Spider is who he is. Because you want to go out desperately.

And that's how you find yourself standing nervously before the Sully in the middle of the forest hours later. The suns barely start to leave the sky, one of them being hidden by the clouds.

Lo'ak greeted you awkwardly while Tuk jumped at the idea of meeting someone new. Neteyam wasn't here with them, it made you feel less stressed as he's the one who scares you the most.

They soon started strolling around with their giant legs, quickly out-speeding you and Spider.

The tree siblings were walking ahead of you, far ahead. Jumping and laughing. But Spider was beside you, smiling. Like the old times. A wave of sadness, nostalgia and shame hit you. You don't even know why you're ashamed. He told you he wanted you to be here. Still, you feel like he forces himself to be kind to you.

"You can speed up, I'm just behind.

-Can't I stay here ? He shrugs while smiling happily.

Well, yes, of course he can. It was just an offer. You shrug, letting him do his own choices.

-It's been a while since our last discussion, I don't want to leave you alone."

Again, you thought. And you think he thought it too by his apologetic look. Is it too late for a new friendship to bloom ? Has time passed too quickly ? You're both adults now. But you still have this feeling pulling at your chest each time you see him. Knowing damn well things didn't end correctly between you.

Your good leg hit against a root on the ground and you lose your balance. Spider is quick to grab your hand to prevent you from falling.

You feel so bad for always needing someone. But you also feel angry. Because it's fun reducing to always need someone company to just walk. You know Spider wants to ask you if you're okay, still, he doesn't. And you really appreciate it.

"So? That flower you've been studying? he asks instead, letting go of your hand slowly, as if he didn't really want to.

You frown at his choice of conversation subject. Spider is not one to like science, at all. It's intriguing because that mean he watched you work for far longer than you thought to know what you were working on.

Then why didn't he just talk to you? Instead of hiding himself behind your back waiting for you to turn around.

-It's progressing. I think we can make medicinal meals for humans with it. It's really interesting.

You didn't want to talk much about it since you knew Spider would be bored pretty quickly. But if he was, he was hiding it damn well because you couldn't see anything but his fond smile.

-That's cool. He says. Tell me more.

You were surprised to say the least. Because never had Spider ask you to explain your works to him.

-Are you sure ? You asked doubtfully

-Well, yeah!"

And he was so excited to hear you that a warm feeling enveloped your heart. You started explaining every progress you made in the past few months, not sparing any details. You knew he didn't understand things sometimes but you were happy to explain it to him more clearly.

Often, you'd have to stop to escalate a fallen tree or some high places but Spider was always eager to help you. Sometimes, the Sully would look back at you two and smile.

At first, you thought that Kiri would join your conversation but maybe she knew you two needed this talk. You were old friend trying to reconnect and she was kind enough to let you have this. She never looked like the jealous type anyway.

When you finished your story, you asked Spider about his dailies activities and he was happy to indulge.

And without really understanding how you made it, you were now on his back while he was walking proudly towards his friends. Honestly, you knew Spider was somewhat of a muscular guy but you'd never thought it was possible for him to carry you for so long like he did.

And when you arrived, you thought he'd be quick to set you on the ground but he didn't. He kept you on his back as long as he could. You just wanted to enjoy your old friend's company, stay in the illusion that nothing ever changed.

The view was really beautiful. A calm place on the edge of the void. Ikran were flying down there, some mounted by omaticaya, other simply loving their freedom. You could see all the floating island from here. And of course, the suns.

Surprisingly, you weren't feeling too tired, yet. Spider was still talking to you but your face on his shoulder, the warmth of his body and the comfort of it all before the beautiful view of Pandora was enough to put you in a trance.

Eventually, when you met the stare of Kiri, you forced yourself to get off him. Because you didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

Your hand wipe away the few water drops on your mask. It's a little frisky out there, but it feels good.

As everyone was laying on the ground excitedly, you sat at the far right of the siblings, leaving a polite space between you. But the space quickly was filled by Spider's body plopping beside you. He smiles, you can't give him the same kindness, mind full of questions.

Why are you here ? Because as much as the scenery is nice, you're not close no any of the people who 'invited' you. What was the plan in making you come here ?

Spider's hands which lay flat on the ground support him, his arms behind his back. He's almost laying down.

"Don't fall asleep." he tells you but you have no idea why he told you that as you're wide awake.

Maybe he's just trying to be nice, trying to be polite and make you feel included. You don't mind it. You're sure this whole rendez-vous together is a one time thing that you'll never do again. So you're fine with it.

Even if you're disappointed. Because you love going out in Pandora.

You concentrate on staring at the scene before you instead of sulking. It was really pretty, you never saw something so beautiful before. Because the last time you went out, you were young and had a strict curfew. You never got to watch the beauty of the nightfall.

Soon, every plants and living beast should light up. You already notice the freckles on the siblings body become clearer. You smile softly. You feel good, at peace. You could stay here forever. It's like you're finally connected to Eywa.

The suns are moving slowly and you're hypnotized by them all, a smile pulling at your lips.

Even if lost in your trance, movements from your left grabs your attention. Spider's thigh is suddenly pressed against yours. You search for his eyes, to see any emotion or reaction explaining you his behaviour but his eyes are solely staring at the sun before you. Why did he move so much closer ?

You shrug, thinking that you're cold anyway and a little of human warmth won't do harm. So you ignore his shenanigans, opting to concentrate fully on the sight. You're lucky to live on such a pretty planet. Even when now, it's a foot that set itself under your leg, taking you once again away from your thoughts.

"Spider?" you ask this time.

Because his foot slided under your sick leg and as it's a somewhat private part of you, you're surprised by the contact. Spider looks at you and smile, his head falling on his shoulder as he held every star of the night in his eyes. Even through the mask, you could see how prettily shiny they were.

You never saw him so comfortable, but when you really think about it, you can't remember much of the time you spent together. It was so long ago. Maybe he was comfortable like that with you before.

Frowning, you stare at your now tangled legs. This is getting weirdly intimate. Just this morning, he was avoiding you like death and now he's craving physical attention? But when you look into his eyes, you can't find any answers.

It's not new, though. You remember when you were little, you were always asking yourself; What is he thinking ? He always has been unpredictable and impossible for you to decipher.

But you stay still, letting him do his things. Because you missed all of this.

"Where is Earth ?" asks Tuk to one of her siblings.

You realize it's the first time you hear them talk and remember their presence. Lo'ak is the one to answer. He points to a really really far star in the sky and you follow his direction. Earth ? That's where you come from ? You're sure it's beautiful out there, too.

Feeling confidence running through his veins, Spider finally glides his hand to lay it on yours, putting his fingers between yours on the ground.

"Do you think there is a deity like ours on Earth?" asks Kiri and your blood run cold.

Kiri, Spider's lover. She's just beside you. You hope she did not see that. You forgot they were together. As if an electricity shock cross your body from head to toe, you push his hand away and move your leg out of his hold, in your rush, you hit it against the ground and whimper.

Spider try to touch your leg, probably worried about your health but you don't want him to touch you anymore.

"What are you doing ? you ask, throwing worried glances to Kiri who wasn't looking. He halts his hand in the air before retracting it silently.

-I... Nothing. Sorry." he's deeply confused. But you are more.

His head turns in the opposite direction of your, his body language telling you he's terribly tense. What is he doing ? Why was he all over you ? What the hell was that ?

Is he seriously flirting with you? When Kiri is barely one person away from you ! He probably doesn't know you're aware of his relationship with her and is trying to get in your pants. Thinking that hurt your heart deeply. Staring at him nervously wrapping his fingers around the plants, you're not so sure he's a cheater.

No, you conclude. He would never play with her heart like this.

But he changed with years. He was a man now. Maybe he wasn't the Spider you used to know, after all. No, you need to stop imagining things. You just need to talk to him, understand his thoughts. Spider is nice. He probably changed but not like this. You can't even force yourself to believe Spider would be a bad person.

The rest of the eclipse, you didn't get to enjoy it as much as you wanted. Too preoccupied by your boiling mind. And soon, it was already time for everyone to get back home.

Your little group stands up, the siblings and Spider talking excitedly together. Spider was still by your side though. You were thankful that even despite the awkward situation you two were in minutes prior, he was still making sure you weren't being left out.

After some time, you noticed that Spider wasn't trying to be part of the conversation anymore, his steps were slowing down. He tentatively looked at you and your eyes met his.

"Are you mad at me ? he finally asks.

-No. You say, because you truly were not. Just confused.

-Confused about what ? I thought I was pretty clear back there.

-Your intentions were indeed pretty clear, don't worry about that. I just... It's really low of you to do that with Kiri just beside us.

-What does Kiri have to do with this?

You hate that he's playing dumb. And you get more frustrated the more you're talking to him. By now, you two stopped walking, standing in the middle or the forest without moving.

-I don't like you playing with her. You should stop.

Spider's eyes widen, he steps back a little, looking agape. His lips forms words but no sound come out of it. Why is he so surprised ? Isn't it logical for him to settle to one person ? Why does he look like he just got a world's revelation ?

-You thought I mated with Kiri ? asks Spider in a voice so high pitched you're sure the whole forest heard.

The three siblings before you stops in their track and look at you two, surprised faces on all of them before Lo'ak burst out laughing hearing your conversation, as well as Tuk.

There is a long silence between you and the boy only disrupted by the never stopping laugh of the two omaticaya. The girl approaches you slowly. You feel so stupid, you might die from shame. He wasn't playing dumb, the two really weren't together.

Spider turns pale. Kiri looks him up and down before pretending to vomit.

-What ? Me ? With this thing? she says, disgust lacing her words.

You want someone to bury you seven feet under ground.

-Same thing for me ! Spider screams. Everyone, but her!

-He is literally the spitting image of Lo'ak! Why would I mate with him?

-I… I don't know. I always see you guys stuck together so I figured…

You now realize how stupid your reasoning looks. Yes, they spend lot of time together, but so do a family.

-She's not even funny ! She's the worst person to be with !

-Shut up !" Kiri says, pushing Spider strongly. The boy manages to impress you by not moving a lot despite the strength of the Na'vi girl by his side.

Seeing their bother sister dynamic, you instantly knew that they weren't lying. You even wonder how you could ever think of them as a couple.

You feel a lot better knowing Spider was still kind. And knowing you did not betray Kiri. Relief flood in you. Maybe your boy is still as kind as before.

Lo'ak, Kiri and their little sister then decided to head back home after accompanying you to the lab. Tuk was tired, she was being carried on her brother's back while Kiri was in her own head. Spider was much more awake. He was eagerly talking your ear off about some of his craziest adventures with the Sullys.

For a moment, you were at peace.

You had your old friend back, new people next to you who, you hope, you'll soon be able to call friends. The thought of the discussion you and Spider would definitely have later wasn't even plaguing your mind. You were having fun. It was perfect.

As soon as you arrived back at the lab, apprehension was all you could feel. What if it's the last time you see them ? What if they don't want to be your friends ?

They dropped you off at the entrance of the base. Tuk was still sleepy and she mumbled something along the line of 'Goodnight' before going back to her asleep state.

You thanked them, told them you had a great night and they started to leave, not before some farewells.

Lo'ak whispering a 'good luck bro' to Spider which you clearly heard despite him trying to be quiet, he gave him a pat on the back before stepping back. Kiri smiles at you softly then sticks out her tongue at Spider with a teasing look.

As much as this whole scene was cute, your leg was starting to hurt and you needed to sit down quickly before losing your balance.

You wave at the Sully, finally watching their back heading to their home. You're sleepy, but something is preventing you from really falling asleep right then and there: You still have questions.

If he's not with Kiri, that means he was flirting with you. Crafting you a bracelet, wanting you to spend the rest of the day with him, trying to be skin to skin against you; that's flirting, right ? That's what they do in books anyway.

Spider opens the heavy door of the lab for you, you wait for the air to be cleaned before taking off your mask. You hurry to find a seat nearby. What is it now ? Are you friends ?

There is no sound in the whole lab and the mood stresses you. You're alone with him, you can't ignore the awaiting conversation you'll eventually have. Spider grabs a glass of water that he set on the table for you to drink.

You thanks him lowly. He sits on a chair on the other end of the table, facing you. He taps his nails on his chair nervously while you avoid his gaze by staring at your shoes.

"So..." he starts.

Your heart's beating quicken because you don't know what to expect. You're scared. But knowing that Spider is as frightened as you reassures you at the same time.

"Did you have fun ? Tonight ?

-Yeah, it was nice. The sky was pretty. Thank you.

-Cool, cool. It's nice to know."

Spider scratch his head, eyes boring holes into the ground. But he stopped his movements and sighs, brows frowning and creating a crease on his forehead.

"I'm an idiot. He resumes. I don't know why I left you. He stays silent for a while, you let him find his word, desperately wanting to hear his point of view. I guess I was scared. Maybe even ashamed.

Ashamed ? Ashamed of you ? This conversation will really end you if he continues this way.

-Scared because... I don't want you to like me just because I'm your only option. I was scared to think I liked you just because you were the only kid my race I've ever known. At your frown, he smiles bitterly. Yeah, I like you. But now I'm sure it's not because we're the only two human the same age.

You're stunned. Astonished, even. Your mouth is mid open, your eyes are wide. You stopped breathing a few seconds ago. Is he joking ? How does Spider, the guy who stopped talking to you years ago, confesses his love to you? How is he asking the same questions you asked yourself times and times again ?

-And ashamed because I don't want to be human anymore. I want to be a Na'vi, an omaticaya. A true one ! And you, the lab, are reminding me of who I really am. I guess I didn't like that. A long silence spaces his confession, you trying to process everything and him, searching his words. But at the same time, back then I thought that as long as you were with me, I wouldn't mind staying human, you know? But it's a lot of thoughts in a fifteen years old's mind and I just panicked, I guess.

Tears are quickly filling your eyes, you're speechless. You've been waiting for him to explain himself for so long and finally it was happening. You want to cry because it's the first time someone is openly telling you about their emotions, you want to cry because you have no choice but to confront your own emotions now. But you don't know how to handle them. You wipe aggressively your eyes, trying to make it look like you got something in it, you know Spider is not believing it but you still try to hide.

He'd stay human for you ?

-I have no excuses. I'm just an idiot. You never deserved to be left alone. And...And It's okay if you're a little broken because you're wonderful. It balances out. He says on a lighter note at the end.

And his silly confession made you smile. As stupid as it sounded. Because how is this his first words after years of mutual avoidance ? He just can't be serious. You're overwhelmed, you thought this day was going to be like every other day. None of this was planned. You don't know how to react.

-You won't forgive me right away, I know it. But I'm ready to wait. I'm... Kiri taught me how to sew. I-I can sew you clothes, jewelry, even a shawl. And I'm much stronger now, I can bring you everywhere. I'll make you visit lot of pretty places. I'll carry you.

You don't like that his offer is so tempting to you. Because you would have liked to make him wait, make him understand how hurt you are. As selfish as that sound, you just wanted for him to sympathize.

-Not even in a romantic way, we-we can just be friends, just like before. It'd be really nice.

Yes, it'd really be nice. You don't want to wait anymore. You missed him, your friend, so much.

-Why today ?

-What ?

-Why did you choose to come see me today? What pushed you to do so?

He chuckles, crossing his arms on his chest and staring at the ground.

-Lo'ak and Kiri forced me. Because I've actually been crafting you things for years but never gave them to you. He lacked courage. But they thought I did. They discovered it somehow and started reproaching it to me and told me that if I did not come talk to you to apologize, they would do it themselves.

Really now ? You're curious? Why has he been crafting you so much ? Okay, you think. You're ready to open your heart a little bit, just for him. But not entirely ! He has to work for it. He has to wait a little as well. Because, well, he never forgot about you. And that's enough for you to let your guards down.

You'll have to thank Lo'ak and Kiri next time you see them at the lab. You owe them.

-So ? Can I have another chance?"