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thejokervaleska · 6 years

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stitches, part 4

Pairing: The Joker (Ledger) x Reader Rating: T Words: 1770 Summary: That was the first night I was plagued by dreams of Jack, but it wouldn’t be the last. They didn’t come every night, but they came to me often enough to be concerning.

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

Sometime in the hours just before dawn, I woke to the sound of my door creaking open.

As my eyes opened, I heard the squeak of the old box springs and felt the mattress beneath me shift. A moment later, something heavy settled over my hips and through hazy, sleep-dulled eyes, I could just make out Jack’s face looming above mine.

In the half-darkness, I could barely see his scars and blinking didn’t help bring him into focus. All I could see clearly was his eyes, those unfathomable black pits that reflected no light and absorbed everything.

I tried to speak but he held a finger up to his lips, shushing me. His image wavered around the edges as my eyelids fluttered and sleep fought to drag me away from the waking world.

The sound of his breath rushing out in a soft, almost-laugh brought me back. I looked up to see him leaning down slowly, settling down with his forearms planted on the bed on either side of my head. His eyes were intent on my mouth and I had the sudden thought, he’s going to kiss me.

Breathless at the idea, I automatically parted my lips. Until that very moment, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to feel his mouth against mine. It was totally unreasonable, totally irresponsible. I was too unsettled by him to truly trust him but now I was starting to realize it wasn’t just fear and uncertainty that left me off-balance whenever he was around

Instead of kissing me, he studied my face closely, his unblinking eyes darting across my features with the curiosity of a child. It was only then that I noticed that his whole body was trembling. Moving slowly, he shifted his weight to one arm and brought a shaky hand up to touch my cheek.

When I didn’t turn my head away, he began tracing my lips slowly, lightly ghosting his fingertip around their outer edges and then along the seam. My skin tingled in response.

Suddenly, his face was much closer, and his lips were hovering above mine in a teasing mockery of a kiss, close enough for me to feel his hot, wet breath but not close enough to touch. Some small part of my brain registered that his fingers were now wrapped loosely around my throat.

I thought I felt the tip of his tongue brush across my bottom lip, tasting me, but it was gone too quickly for me to be sure. His hand suddenly tightened around my throat, stealing my breath. I closed my eyes.

I woke the next morning tangled up in my sheets, breathless and confused.

Staring up at my ceiling in the stark light of day, I couldn’t remember if what had happened the night before had been a dream or if it was real. I could still feel the warmth of his touch on my lips and neck; it was as if his fingers had burned me.

Dragging myself out of bed, feeling hungover, I checked my door and found it still locked.

That was the first night I was plagued by dreams of Jack, but it wouldn’t be the last. They didn’t come every night, but they came to me often enough to be concerning. As the days turned into weeks and the dreams persisted, I began to doubt myself. I always woke to a locked door, so deep down I knew they couldn’t be real. But I could still feel him every morning and I couldn’t shake my suspicions.

Worst of all, I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be real or if I was glad it was all just my mixed-up dreams.

One afternoon while we were sitting on the sofa, watching Animal Planet of all things, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to know.

“Do you ever come into my room at night?” I asked him suddenly.

He gave me a sidelong glance, his raised brows telling me without words that he thought I was crazy.

“I’m serious, Jack.”

His gaze swung back to the television. His only answer was, “You lock your door.”

The words fell on me like a lead weight and I sat there staring at his indifferent profile, stunned.

“Okay, one, you’re not answering my question,” I finally managed to say. “And two, how the fuck do you know I lock my door if you haven’t been trying to get in?”

He shrugged. “Just curious.”

“You were just curious? That’s not an excuse, Jack.”

He sighed heavily through his nose and then, reaching for the remote control, he jammed down the volume button and the sound of screeching macaws rose to an unbearable level.

“Give me that,” I snapped, yanking the control out of his hand and muting the television. “I’m not through talking to you.”

He shot me a look and I saw that flash of darkness behind his eyes that always frightened me, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Regarding me with moderate interest, he leaned back and stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, behind my shoulders.

“What do I do?” he asked carefully through his clenched teeth.

I frowned at him. “What?”

“At night,” he mumbled, his eyes crinkling in an approximation of a sly smile. “In your dreams.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

As time passed, we both grew more comfortable in our routine and with each other’s quirks. Well, I grew comfortable with his quirks. If I had any, he was oblivious to them.

I got used to taking cold showers every day because he’d used up all the hot water doing whatever it was he did in there for forty-five minutes at a time. I got used to cleaning up cigarette butts and pudding cartons from various places throughout the living room every day. I even almost got used to his otherworldly stillness and his propensity for suddenly appearing behind me when I least expected it.

What I couldn’t get used to was coming home to blood on my floor.

He had popped his stitches a few more times and George was beyond fed up with re-stitching the battered, abused flesh, but Jack seemed unbothered by it. He even shrugged off the constant threats of permanent nerve damage.

Despite his carelessness, he was healing more quickly than I’d expected. George said mouth wounds often did. Jack was getting better at talking around the stitches and though we still couldn’t hold long conversations, as time went by, he was able to manage more than just a couple of words at a time.

And still he remained a stranger.

I arrived home early that night, just after 1 am, and found my apartment dark and silent except for the muted flicker of the television set.

“Jack?” I called out, my voice wavering as I dropped my bag by the door.

The thick shadows in the kitchen coalesced and Jack stepped out of them suddenly, startling me. And for some inexplicable reason, the control I was fighting so hard to maintain crumbled the moment I saw his face.

He looked alarmed as I rushed towards him and when I threw my arms around his waist and buried my face in his bony chest, he was stiff as a board against me. I felt him lift his arms and then drop them to his sides again, unsure of what to do with them.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, my voice breaking again. “I know you hate this, but I just need – I just need someone to hold me for a little while.”

“What, uh...what happened?” he asked.

“There was just some creep at work that got a little carried away,” I said, letting out a sound that was somewhere between laughter and crying. I knew I was overreacting and could only blame it on the adrenaline still swimming in my veins. “It’s nothing, really.”

He pulled back and peered down at my face, taking it in his hands and tilting it towards the blue light of the television to get a better look. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“He got mad when I yelled for security,” I explained.

“Gonna have a shiner tomorrow,” Jack mumbled, tracing his thumb beneath my swollen eye none too gently. I jerked my head away.

“That hurts, you son of a bitch,” I said, managing a sniffling laugh.

He rolled his eyes, extricating himself from my grip as he muttered, “You’ll live.”

“I know,” I said, sighing as I wiped the tears from my face. “He just scared the hell out of me is all.”

“Who was he?” he asked abruptly.

“Just some guy named Colin. He’s been in to see me a few times before but never caused any problems. I don’t know what happened this time.”

“Colin?” He seemed to expect me to have more to add.

“Yeah, apparently he’s a security guard at Arkham or something. It doesn’t matter, the bouncers won’t let him back in after what he did.”

He hummed, his usual reply when he had nothing more to add to the conversation.

Feeling a little steadier on my feet, I went into the bathroom to scrub the invisible handprints off my skin. When I emerged on a cloud of steam some time later, the television was off but Jack was sitting on the sofa, smoking a cigarette.

He sat up a little straighter when he saw me, his eyes following me intently as I walked towards him. Hesitating for just a moment, I climbed onto the sofa beside him, much closer than I would usually sit. When he didn’t jump up or move away, I leaned into him, taking it slow and watching his face.

Jack sucked in a sharp breath when I touched him but lifted his arm and settled it over my shoulders awkwardly, like he knew what he was supposed to be doing but had never actually done it before. His jaw was clenched tight and he was staring straight ahead but he didn’t seem like he was on the verge of a breakdown or anything. I snuggled closer, folding myself into his side and breathing in the smell of laundry detergent and smoke.

We sat in silence for a while as I listened to his rapid breathing and I could practically feel him vibrating against me, his every coiled muscle aching to push me away. But for whatever reason, he sat still and let me take whatever comfort I could glean from his unyielding body. And for that, I was grateful.

“Thank you, Jack,” I told him in a small voice, clutching at his soft t-shirt.

He didn’t reply.

When I woke up the next morning, I was still slumped on the sofa, but Jack was gone.

Tagging: @awildkathasappeared, @skrp, @nizem8, @bookowlextraordinaire, @fangirl00001022, @dela-arthur

#the joker x reader #the joker x you #ledger joker x reader #joker imagine #ledger joker imagine #ledger joker #fanfiction #rating: t #story: stitches #i know it's been a while so please let me know if you would like to be removed from the tag list for this story #don't worry about hurting my feelings or something #i know interests change #believe me

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