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misscarnivalofcarnage · 8 months

Text

This is Gotham, after all

Characters: Y/N & Jerome Valeska

Type: Angst

Word Count: 5.1k

⚠️ TW: (Sexual-) Abuse

I haven't written oneshots in years, so criticism is greatly appreciated :)

The rain had stopped by mid-afternoon, and at a quarter past five, as Jerome crossed the threshold of the trailer to plop himself down on the leatherette-covered bench, the clouds began to break before nightfall.

He glanced out the window and watched all the circus idiots tippling down the square with an umbrella under their arms, as if fearing that another storm was lurking just behind them.

Jerome sighed bitterly. The view felt more repulsive than usual, and with that he drew the curtains to spare himself from it.

Thus, with the exception of the little amount of sunlight that sneaked through the window edges into the room, he sat in gloom. It would be enough light for him to see his own hands in front of his face though. If he were to do that.

The dirty dishes, that have accumulated in the sink over the past few days now, met Jerome's gaze and now remembering it, he decided to take care of them. Later. Now he would just sit on this bench as long as he could. Staring down at his hands whilst enjoying the adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins. Perhaps he'd do so until dark, or dawn even.

Waiting and see how things take their turn.

Knock!

The knocking (which, mind you, had something forceful. As if whoever was standing outside on circus grounds was trying to fist-break the door open) interrupted the suffocating silence that had spread through the musty trailer and made him jump.

All at once his muscles tensed. Jerome's hands clenched into fists while his bent forwarded shoulders stiffened further. The sight might remind one of an angry middle-aged drunk holding on to a bar, as if expecting someone to come and drag them away.

"Hello!" said a muffled, familiar voice from outside.

As soon as he heard the knock, he remembered something. Or rather, he remembered someone. But presumably, under certain circumstances, you forget dates - especially under his.

Knock! Knock!

Jerome pulled his nose up and briefly brushed his index finger under his nostrils just before finally getting up for the sake of opening this goddam door.

It was a cold Fall; extremely cold, indeed. October like mid-january, the almost painful temperatures made his breath visible when he cleaned the by flies surrounded elephant dung out of the stall this morning.

"Sup, Toots!", said Y/N happily. She stood in front of the trailer and smiled up from below.

Jerome responded by gifting her a playful smile.

"Well, well, well, look, what do we have here?" he grinned. He held out his hand to her and smiling, she took it.

He stepped aside and bowed, allowing her to go first. He noted with satisfaction the pleasant smell on her. Indeed, she smelled good. She always does.

Unlike the inside of the trailer, of course. His mother never went outside to smoke her Marlboro Red's; by now, one stinky odor had bitten into the trailer like a tick, and there was no way they're gettin' it out of there.

Yet Jerome tried it anyway.

On numerous occasions he had tried to let in some clean air by leaving the door half open on it's hinges, hoping it'd finally stop smelling like cigarettes and like sex (which was much much worse, in his opinion) in this goddamn trailer.

Y/N smelled it anyway, already the moment she set foot in. Probably even before that.

"You sure she won't come back any soon?" she asked skeptically.

His mother had, of course, forbidden him to meet girls, let alone talk to them. It never went into details, however Lila was scared he might make the same mistake she did by accidentally impregnating some random teen-slut.

Cause' that's what they all were. Little sluts just waiting for poor losers like him to spread their legs for.

(Just like she was)

That was one of the two reasons why Y/N never payed Jerome a visit. The other one wasn't a complexity that could give anyone a headache either; Lila was a bitter, hateful woman. Wronging her was like giving her big, bulging scar, built on a foundation of hatred and aggrievement.

Y/N was no exception, of course. She had made a mess of things with Lila the first time they met.

The circus has freshly arrived in Gotham, when Y/N clashed with Lila during the break between the two parts of the show, by accidentally running into her as Lila was about to set Jerome straight after the altercation with the Wayne family.

The argument was fairly brief yet very heated. The upsetness in Y/N was outstanding; too great for either tears or anger.

"Oh, don't you break your pretty head about her," Jerome stroked his hand gently over Y/N's waist and smiled as he said so.

"You should sit down," he adviced.

"Yeah...," Y/N responded, before she looked at the white table in front of them. It was all empty and clean. Looking at it made her think of all the possible scenarios that might have taken place for the past 18 years of his life.

She felt a wave of sadness. It were moments like these (as mundane as they were) that felt like a kick in her stomach, that made her realize again how much of a misery his life was.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She was now very aware of the eyes that were fixated on her.

"Yeah, sure," she sat down on the semi-comfortable bench and put her hands on her lap, just as Jerome had done before. Her eyes began to wander around the trailer as she tapped her fingertips on her thighs.

"So"

"So?"

"What now?" she asked.

Jerome shrugged his shoulders. He began to stare around as well and for a few seconds there was a comfortable silence.

"Ah! I know," he said and gave her a charming, Jerome-esque smile.

His grin grew as he placed his hands flat on the table for support. He leaned over and gave Y/N an unusually gentle kiss on the cheek.

"No," said Y/N, pushing him back a little with the same gentleness.

"Why?" he whispered. Y/N would realize that he was just playing dumb. The answer to his question was more foolproof than any children's book someone could find in a library. He knew the reason why she wouldn't let him kiss her, just as he knew she saw through him at that very moment.

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean. Bad enough if she catches me with you, but if she catches us here...", Y/N replied. Her eyes were back on Jerome, who started to giggle as he perked up at the words "making out".

"I mean it"

"Oh, I'm sure you do," Jerome grinned. Y/N had almost smiled back, yet another thought crossed her mind that exacerbated her concerns quickly.

"What if she comes home battened down? With a guy?"

"Yeez, Y/N. Forget about her for a second."

"But-"

"Y/N," he interrupted her with a sharp undertone.

"Forget about her for a damn second."

"Okay..", Y/N nodded and looked down at her hands. Jerome backed away and took his seat again.

He took the same pose as before; his back a little uneven, his hands in his pockets and his eyes wandering around the area as if it was his first time there.

Y/N felt an uneasy tension in the air and so she fixed her gaze back on her boyfriend. She opened her mouth, but made no sound.

Jerome pulled up his nose again - like he had a vexatious cold - and grabbed a stack of cards from the wall shelf above him.

"What are you doing?", Y/N had asked. A Part of her was glad that he was doing something to break the silence, the other feared that he was taking the stack to practice one of his newer magic-tricks while completely blanking her out.

"Ever played Rome before?" he asked, looking into her eyes again.

"Once...twice...maybe? I know the rules."

"Goody," Y/N noticed the shift from tension to glee in his voice as he said this. The change in mood rubbed off on her a bit. She relaxed a little.

Jerome began to slide the cards through his fingers to mix them up just as Y/N watched him curiously.

When he finished, he began to divide the cards among themselves. Everyone got thirteen each, and he put the remaining pile in the middle of the table. He took the top card from the pile, and placed it upside down next to it.

"I dealt the cards, you start. Let's see what you've got in this pretty hand of yours" he said as he scanned the row of cards in his hand.

"Okey Dokey," Y/N replied and took a card from the deck: four diamonds.

She looked through her cards. The best chance for her would've been a joker or a queen of hearts in order to lay a row from 7 to king of hearts. She decided to put this one on the smaller deck for Jerome.

"So... how's circus life like?" she asked. They did have a conversation or two about Haly's circus before, of course, but now being in the action made her curious again.

(That and because most of Jerome's stories took place inside the trailer, not around it. Nevertheless, Y/N knew a horror story or two from outside that could make any Dark Coper's greasy hair stand on end)

"Schrecklich"

"Why?" Y/N asked. She didn't expected anything else. Jerome didn't think much of the circus. He had let her know several times.

"It's disgusting here. It smells like elephant poo and people treat you like you don't matter. Everyone lives out their gross lifestyles...every night when I look outside the window I can see some bozo snorting coke through his nose", he said. "I mean, the other hardcore junkie don't make a show of themselves like that. They do their crack inside their trailers, while guys like Grayson smoke their weed outside," Jerome took a short break, "I remember when I was twelve, I sat at breakfast with some fella who injected himself with some kind of substance that my mom told me was insulin because he had diabetes."

Y/N didn't say anything. She decided to wait until he continued talking, because once he started, he made damn sure to not stop too soon.

But this time he didn't. Not right away. He remained silent and something in his facial expression changed, as if suddenly remembering something.

"Can I tell you ..something...?" he asked, looking up. Jerome's eyes were a little wide and didn't blink. He looked scary, and in that second, Y/N was afraid of him.

However, she nodded anyway.

"The night before went like any other in which my mother pursued her passion. Drinking, boning, smoking...you name it, until they decided to take a little break. However, this time was different than usual," he looked back down at his lap, not daring to look up again.

"My mother stayed in bed and lit a cigarette while he got up and walked back and forth the trailer for a few minutes. He was shaking and sweating, and the way he walked through the trailer scared me. With each step in my direction, my heart pounded louder and louder as I continued to pretend to sleep. The pacing back and forth went on for a few minutes until he suddenly stopped in front of my bed and got down on his knees. He first grabbed my shoulder, and then slid his hand along my hip to my middle. He leaned in my ear, and whispered, "Aren't cha a pretty boy?"", his voice getting softer and softer until it was no more than a whisper. A stark nausea spread through Y/N's stomach, as if she could throw up.

"And then... he touched me. I cried and called for my mother, but she stayed in bed and did nothing. Like... always, actually," Jerome inhaled sharply, and finally looked up at Y/N again.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Hm, too bad". Jerome took a card from the deck and put the drawn card on the other one.

He slammed his card on the table.

"Damnit! I was hoping for a joker!" he said, pouting.

Y/N still didn't move. She looked at him in disbelief.

"Come on, it's your turn, Y/N!" he chuckled.

"U-Uhm," she stuttered and looked at the two stacks laid side by side. He had just put down a Queen of Hearts.

"Y/N, pick a card already! It's really not that hard," he rolled his eyes playfully. Finally, she took the card and laid her row down.

"Oho, looks like you got a head start!" he smiled almost proudly.

"This is horrible..I'm so so sorry."

"Oh come on, Y/N. You still have a few cards left in your hand...I can still catch up with you!", he winks.

"That's not what I mean and you know it!", Y/N replied, placing her cards upside down on the table.

Jerome rolled his eyes.

"Not everything here was horrible, if that makes you feel any better," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"That's not what it sounds like"

"When I was a kid, my mother could be endurable when she wanted to"

"Yeah? How?"

Jerome frowned and looked at the ceiling. He seemed to actually think about it.

"Sometimes she would read me something before bed and give me a goodnight-kissie," he admitted. "Or she purposely cooked things she knew I liked. Or get me something from the candy stand.... but we're really talking about sometimes, you know, sometimes. And that only went on until I was ten. Then she turned into a full blown nutcase", Jerome didn't like to remember the life with his mother. Neither how it was before his 11th birthday, nor after. Cause' it was almost the same. Only was it the absence of mommy's boy that turned her into a bigger monster than before,

"Being locked in this trailer with her surely didn't help, huh?", Y/N said.

Jerome's face changed to something almost angry. Y/N sensed she had hit a nerve, and if she would have looked under the table she would a noticed that he clenched his fists.

"Don't get me started. This thing is tight. And small. You feel everything, every movement. Every step. My whore of a mother doesn't make it any better with her banging around. Cannot sleep a wink here sometimes, ya know?"

"Speaking of sleeping...where do you sleep?" asked Y/N, looking around.

The lack of a second bed in his trailer had struck Y/N right after she smelled it.

She had already wondered where he had slept and just assumed they have lived in a trailer back then that had a second bed. As here was only one, at the other end of the trailer. And that was Lilas.

"Right here," he answered.

"Hm?'

"You can turn the table into a bed. You lower the platform, put the little mattress thingies on it so that it becomes one surface with the two seats, then you put bedding on it."

"You're kidding me."

"Did ya think I sleep in the same bed my mother and her dates do?"

"No idea, that's why I asked", Y/N responded. She indeed had no idea, and even if the idea of it was hardcore, she would have brought it.

"Have you ever crashed in a trailer? Camped? Anything at all?", he asked curiously.

Y/N did in fact camp before. The summer she was fourteen, she was dragged by her mother to one of those camps for Christians (though neither she nor her mother had any special bond to God) The experience was bad - whether it was from the day a boy named Billy Cobbie tried to finger her while swimming in a local lake, or when she caught poison ivy while peeing in the woods.

"I spent a summer in a shitty Christian camp, not worth mentioning," she answered his question.

"O no, tell me about this shitty camp."

"There isn't much to say about the camp. The only exciting thing I did besides praying to our Lord and Savior was playing with the other kids. Ya know, truth or dare and stuff like that."

Jerome nodded. He remembered these type of games; he had played them himself with some other circus kids back when he was younger (and still liked them to a certain extent).

That was a few years ago in the fall. There circus had traditionally stopped in Gotham, and it was a warm October day with little wind. He was sitting with the Grayson siblings and a few other kids inside the awning, which was attached to the main tent with the ring.

It was John Grayson, then a kid with lots of acne, who turned to him and dared him to sneak into his uncle's diner to steal a snickerdoodle.

Thus they set out; Jerome as a thief with Grayson as his witness.

Jerome entered the diner as Uncle Zach was busy in the kitchen, cleaning the stove.

He rarely spend time in said diner, yet often enough to know that meant coast was clear as uncle Zach was usually deep enough into his work that he wouldn't notice Jerome sneaking into the storage to grab one or two snickerdoodle's, so he did.

Jerome quickly searched through the shelves until he finally found the box of Snickerdoodle's on the bottom row among the variety of pastries. He grabbed two pieces and put the box back into place.

The unfamiliar feeling of success was shattered shortly after as he heard the ominous sound of a clearing throat behind his back, revealing that the air would be thick real soon.

Almost rigid with fear, Jerome slowly turned and recognized the menacing figure of his uncle glaring at him angrily.

"What the hell are you doing?" Uncle Zach had asked and reached for Jerome's wrist.

"I- uh," he had stammered until he felt a jolt as he was pulled toward the fryer.

His feet skittered across the wooden floor in protest as he tried to avoid the inevitable while his desperate attempt remained putative. Tears formed in his eyes, as he was pulled closer and closer towards the threatening fryer.

His uncle tightened the grip around his hand as he dipped his nephew's hand into the heated, liquid fat.

The moment Jerome's hand entered the crackling 350-degree oil, he met a level of misery that he had not known before.

Every millimeter of his flesh transformed into one gigantic burn, causing his hand to not be able to catch a break when his uncle put the hand of his screaming nephew's hand out of his hell.

On the way back to the circus, neither Jerome nor Grayson spoke. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, which wasn't to be broken until they finally reached the awning.

"Jerome!!!!" Lila yelled from afar. She was just coming out of the trailer and crushed the cigarette that was just hanging in her mouth on the bottom half of her croc and threw it into the grass.

"Come over here!!!"

With that, the little boy trotted over to his mother like a whipped dog, catching a hard cuff to the head when he reached her. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the trailer where the rest of the punishment for stealing from his uncle awaited him.

"Ya know when I was a ki-", he was interrupted by a strong knock on the door.

He looked over his shoulder, then back at Y/N, apparently recognizing what she was thinking.

"Don't worry, she never knocks," he assured and his relaxed aura made Y/N actually believe it.

"If you say so," she replied and squinted over the door.

"Will you check?"

Jerome nodded and reached for his coat on a hook, as there was another knock.

"Some folks really have no patience, eh?", he grinned in a playfully irritated voice. Y/N chuckled.

"Just go"

Jerome strolled leisurely over to the door, but turned to Y/N one last time before finally opening it.

"Wait here like a good girl, will ya?" he asked.

Y/N opened her mouth again, but was interrupted by the sound of door being opened.

"G.C.P.D, can we speak to Lila?"

"Why? What's happend?, he frowned as he got out of the trailer, closing the door behind him.

Y/N was all alone now. It was suddenly very quiet, and she couldn't tell if she perceived the silence as pleasant or oppressive.

She took a few deep breaths through her nose, consciously noticing the unpleasant smell she had sensed the moment she entered the trailer. She could smell cigarettes and a note of sweat, the rest would remain a mystery to her.

After a minute or two, Y/N noticed an ashtray on the countertop and as if automatically moved towards it to look in.

("I mean, look at that," Jerome said, rolling up his right sleeve to reveal his cigarette burn. "This one she gave me after she found out I ditched my chores.")

Y/N turned around with the ashtray in her hand, scanning her surroundings.

The kitchen, dining area, living room, and bedroom were all in one spot, as was common in a home on wheels.

The kitchen was plain as the rest of the furnishings, yet quite clean for that apart from the bit of unwashed dishes.

Y/N noticed a lack of decorations or photos, which appeared to be the reason why the inside of the trailer looked somewhat lifeless and uninhabited, if it weren't for the bit of chaos.

She looked to her right down the short hallway (if you could even considerate it as such), over to Lila's bed.

As expected, it wasn't made, and Y/N found herself looking in the comforter cover for stains. Apart from a little ash here and there, she found nothing. At least nothing that had been in a testicle before.

"Thank god", Y/N whispered and glanced up. Above the bed were small closets that were mounted on the ceiling along the room. Most of them were open.

Lila's share of the cabinets was the one at the headboard, along the side of the bed. Apart from her extravagant work clothes, there were normal tops and pants in her wardrobes as well. Y/N assumed it to be her everyday wear.

The meager variety disappointed her a little; she had hoped for something more than clothes and a few playgirl-magazines from the closets of a nymphomaniac.

She shook her head a little and turned aside to turn her attention to Jerome's open cabinets.

As expected, Y/N didn't find much more than she thought she would. No dramatic circus clothes, just a few t-shirts, some hoodies and three or four pants. However, Y/N found a magazine in his closet as well (but it wasn't a porno, at least not at first sight. God knows what was hiding between the sheets), but a stinkin' normal X-Men comic.

"I wonder if that's the only thing he has?," Y/N thought to herself as she saw the booklet stored among the mixed clothes. She would ask him later - no, she wouldn't.

Jerome didn't need to know she was snooping (Though she kept her fingers to herself, she was just looking around). Besides, she didn't want to add more salt to the wound.

With that she sat back down at her seat, ending the tour of what was none of her business.

Y/N took the remaining stack of cards from the table, and drew a random card.

She was about to turn it over to look at it when someone yanked open the door, causing her breath to stop in a gasp.

She feared that everything she had been worrying about for the past few hours was now becoming a reality, and in that split second of uncertainty, she was glad that she was no longer standing at the edge of the bed, staring into Lila's drawers.

Hastily, she turned her head to the door and expected Lila to grab her by the wrist to unceremoniously kick her out of the trailer.

But to her surprise, it wasn't Lila.

It was Jerome. And he was crying.

After slamming the door, he trotted back to his seat and buried the pale face of his in his hands.

Y/N dropped the joker card and scurried past the table to take him in her arms.

Obviously welcoming the gesture, he buried his face in her chest and started sobbing like a castle dog.

"What happened?" asked Y/N.

Jerome answered in a sob and buried his face deeper down into her chest.

Confused and helpless, Y/N looked around as if anything around her could help understanding the situation.

"Please, tell me what happened," Y/N said, almost desperately. "Please...

"My...my..my", he stammered. He seemed to have reached the pesky state of crying, in which he could hardly breathe through all the sobbing and weeping. He also had a little snot running out of his nose.

Y/N stroked first his cheek and then his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

"Come on, it's okay"

"My mother... she's dead!" he looked up at her, and for the first time Y/N noticed the striking similarity between his crying and an eerie grin, in which each sob - each inch he raised the itching corners of his mouth - the more did his tear-stained face twisted into a grimace that sent a brief shiver down Y/N's spine.

"Had he always cried like that?", she wondered, as he buried his face back into her body.

"...I don't know what happened. She was just ...lying...there..all bloody," Y/N could barely understood a word that came out of his open mouth.

She pressed him tighter against her and kissed the top of his head. Yet, the feeling of discomfort didn't let her go by any means.

"She was a cruel mother to you," Y/N rested her head on his, however he pulled his head back and looked into her eyes with an expression of disbelief.

"You don't get it, Y/N. She was cruel, yeah, but she could've changed and we could've become a real family. Yeah, maybe, someday. But now it's too late for that," he said in an almost angry tone, while not taking his eyes off her. However, the angry expression on his face abruptly changed back to an ugly cry and he pushed his face back to where it was before.

Y/N began to stroke his head, stopping only when his blubbering was interrupted by a stifled yawn.

"Maybe you should try to get some rest. I'm sure tomorrow will be a busy day", suggested Y/N.

Jerome didn't answer that.

(Too busy crying his heart out)

So she took him by the hand and led him over to Lila's bed. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have asked him sleep there, and the thought of the Ash stamps and everything that had happened in that bed over the last few years sent a cold shiver down her spine, however, the bed appeared to be the best and quickest solution in the moment.

"Lie down," she asked.

Reluctantly, he lay down and waited for Y/N to join him. She climbed over him and lay next to him, clinging to Jerome from behind.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and after doing so, she leaned her head on the crook of his neck, kissing it as well.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear.

Jerome didn't answer that either, just took her hand and put it on his cheek.

Y/N felt some last tears running down his face until his silent sobs were nothing more than a steady breathing. He fell asleep.

Unlike Y/N, who was staying awake. She drew small circles on his skin with her finger, but turned on her back and stared at the ceiling after what felt like hours.

"Actually", she thought, "it was only a matter of time that she would be found killed. I mean, every day a different guy for years, it was indeed only a matter of-"

"or was it...maybe..? No," Y/N forced the thought into the back of her mind. And looking at this devasted heap of misery that was sleeping in her arms, she was ashamed of herself that such a thing even occurred to her.

"Some Hook-Up must have grown tired of her, …yeah…or she banged a husband and his wife took revenge on the slut who fucked him. I mean, that happens all the time, right?

"I guess only god knows how obvious or twisted that, what actually happened at the end of the day, was"

"This is Gotham, after all."

@mwissinf

#Gotham TV #DC #Gotham #Oneshot #Crazy? I Was Crazy Once. They Locked Me In A Room. A Rubber Room. A Rubber Room With Rats. And Rats Make Me Crazy.#Jerome Valeska #pee pee #pipi und kaki im pipikakaland

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