Letters From Jack

Zoey looked at him with confusion spread across her face. He had just told her she couldn't blame herself. She was the reason for those scars? Had he done them on purpose? She really didn't understand what he had meant by his statement, but her heart felt as if it sunk to the pits of her stomach. Her eyes were slightly glazing over.

He shook his head, "I told you. . . you weren't ready to hear it."

"I am Jack!" She squeaked out, holding back her tears.

"No, you're not."

"Please, tell me. I need to know."

He sighed, "Promise me you won't blame yourself for this."

"I promise." She managed to choke out. She was doing a horrible job at hiding her emotions at the moment.

He leaned over and pressed his lips against her cheek, and then leaned back and sighed. "After your accident. . . I had a hard time dealing with the fact that you didn't want me any longer. Your mom gave me the letter, but a part of me still didn't believe it. Part of me just knew that you would come for me, apologize, and make everything okay again. You never came, and suddenly one day I over heard a neighbor talking to my grandma about your family moving. Reality sunk in that you were really gone." He said, looking over at her.

She frowned, and couldn't help but to let some tears fall from her eyes. He reached over and wiped them away, before settling back in the couch and picking up from where he left off.

"I was a wreck after that. I dabbled in drinking, and drugs. I quit my jobs, and I wouldn't even face my grandma. I was slowly killing myself. I wasn't eating. I had moved back in with my father for a short period of time. He watched me for months, and then finally he snapped. He came home drunk one night, told me how pathetic I was to act like that over a girl, he told me my life wasn't over just because you left me. I snapped back at him, and told him life wasn't worth living without you. I then attempted to grab the pistol I had under my pillow, but he stopped me."

She gasped, "What were you going to do?" She asked.

He sighed, "I was going to kill myself." He said with no emotion, "I had no reason to live. You were the only thing that ever kept me sane. The only thing that ever made me want to do something with my life."

She was now full blown crying. She couldn't help it. She felt so bad for leaving him behind. She had no clue that he had suffered like that. He had loved her to the point to where he wanted to kill himself because she wasn't in his life anymore.

"Hey, no crying." He said, cupping her face in his hands.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. . . I didn't know. I'm so sorry." She whispered.

He leaned in and kissed each of her cheeks, "Zoe, please, calm down. It's fine. Okay? I'm fine."

After several minutes of calming her down, he eventually continued on with the story. "Like I said, he stopped me. He laughed, mocked me, and then he drunkenly pulled out a pocket knife. He began telling me how pathetic I had become once again, and then he told me he hadn't seen me smile in a long time. He asked me why my father couldn't make me smile. He wanted to know what was so special about you. He wanted to know why you could make me smile, when no one else could. I once again snapped at him." He said, looking towards the floor.

"I told him because no one understood me like you did. He laughed then. It was a laugh I'll never forget. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I looked down towards the ground, unable to face him. Then in an instant I felt his hand grip my chin. He forced me to look at him, and then I saw the dull blade of the pocket knife coming to my face."

She watched him closely as he stayed focused on the ground as he talked. She couldn't take her eyes off his face. Off the scars that she had been the reason behind.

"I didn't even flinch as he entered the blade into my face. It hurt but I ignored the pain. I kept telling myself that he was taking me out of my misery. Little did I know he was just trying to create a work of art." He said, chewing on the sides of his mouth, "He chucked darkly once he was finished, and then walked out of the room. I just sat there for a long time, allowing the blood to flow. Eventually, I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. That's when I flipped out seeing all the blood. I went to Susie's house, and she tried to make me go to the doctor, but I refused. She stitched me up in the kitchen."

"Oh Jack." She said, coming over closer to him. He felt her tiny arms wrap around his neck. He frowned, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. It felt so good to have her in his arms again. It felt natural to him.

"I'm never going to leave again. I'm so sorry." She murmured.

He wished he could believe her, but he just couldn't. His heart was now cold and black. It had been cut off from the world for entirely too long. It was keeping him alive, but he wasn't even sure if it was beating or not. It would take much more than a simple promise to bring his heart back to life.

"Don't blame yourself. He was a sick bastard." The Joker said, hoping to make her feel less guilty about the story.

She backed away and looked in his eyes. Her mascara was now running down her cheeks, and her ocean blue eyes looked clouded. "I'm so sorry." She repeated for what seemed like the billionth time.

"No more apologies."

"None of this would have happened. . . if I hadn't left."

"You had no clue what was going on. You don't even remember the past, Zoey."

"I might not remember everything that happened Jack, but I know what I feel now."

"And what is that? What do you feel?"

She sighed, "I. . . I know I care about you." She said biting her bottom lip. She didn't want to say the word love. She had never told anyone she loved them. At least she couldn't remember. She knew at one time she had probably told him, but she had no memories of that.

"You used to care about me." He corrected her.

"I still do."

"You. Don't. Know. Me." He said, making sure to say each word slowly.

She breathed in deeply, "I do, Jack."

"I'm not coming back after tonight."

"What?" She asked in shock.

"We don't need to see each other anymore. We were tore apart for a reason. You're going to make something of your life, and I'm just going to be stuck here in Gotham being a criminal. Two different worlds."

"We'll find a way to meet in the middle." She murmured, laying her head on his shoulder.

She was determined to make him think differently before he left.