The Wild Card

Bruce stared as Jerome Valeska, The Jerome Valeska, laughed, for what seemed like forever. It sent a chill up his spine, the house was utterly quiet, save for the laughs of a demented psychopath.Bruce tried to contain the anxiety he could feel bubbling up within him. Just the mere sight of Jerome struck fear into the young boys' heart. 

This is the person who gave him nightmares. No not Theo Galavan, Jerome Valeska. At least with Theo he knew why he hated him. But Jerome? Bruce has no idea why Jerome was so willing to kill him on stage. Or why he had enjoyed tormenting the young billionaire, playing with his life, like it was some kind of sick game. Bruce had a feeling that he may never understand why Jerome took such pleasure in taking and ruining lives. But that wouldn't stop him from trying to figure out the mystery that was Jerome Valeska.

Laughter echoing in his ear, the heat of the psychopath's body pressing against his back. 'What do ya say Brucieboy? Wanna boost our ratings? Huh?' the bite of a knife across his throat, and another round of giggles filled his ears.

And now that same laughter was echoing through his house. 

Bruce schooled his expression into a passive one, supressing his fear. He'd gone through quite a bit since then, and could easily handle Jerome Valeska. Though thinking this did nothing to suppress the fear coursing through him as the maniacs laughter died off, only to be replaced with silence. All Bruce could do was stare at the older teen, fully aware that he'd have to play this carefully if Jerome had been brought back by Hugo Strange, he may have been physically altered. Not knowing the odds of winning a fight and attacking anyway was risky, especially when it wasn't just Wayne's life on the line, but Alfreds. 

Jerome settled down, his lips settled into a mocking grin. He took a step towards the young billionaire, surprised when he didn't take a step back. He was about a foot away from Bruce, and the kid didn't even flinch. Interesting.

"Jerome Valeska, may I inquire as to why you are here?" Bruce said calmly, his hands hung loosely at his sides. And unbeknownst to Jerome, his palms were covered in sweat. He tried to maintain his calm, showing any sign of fear might encourage the maniac to escalate, and if he could avoid things getting physical, he would certainly try. 

Another laugh escaped Jerome as he regarded the way too serious billionaire. Was this kid serious? May I inquire as to why you are here? What did Bruce think this was? A buisness meeting? Jerome smiled at the thought, wondering if the kid was even old enough to go to business meetings.

"Oh you know, I just thought I'd drop in, been a while since I last saw ya." He said with a smirk. "Plus, with the whole, you know," Jerome made a stabbing motion towards his neck, rolling his eyes as he did so. "We didn't get to finish our act. Very unprofessional, if you ask me. But hey, what are you gonna do?" He sighed, he pouted mockingly, before grinning again.

"Anyway," he said clapping his hands together, "I figured we could catch up. Hang out sometime, you are my favorite volunteer after all, and I think we could put on another show!" Jerome waved his arm through the air as if he was setting the stage. He grinned wolfishly at Bruce, who just stared at the elder teens antics.

Bruce said nothing, deciding to let Jerome state his true intentions. He searched the redheads face, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window. His once happy expression now turned sour and started to become agitated. Bruce swallowed, he remembered that expression. 

Jerome cocked his head, his eyebrows furrowed. Was this kid just gonna be silent the whole time? Jerome felt irritated, he would not be ignored by some brat.

"Now Bruce, I know I dropped in a little unexpected, but this is no way to treat a guest." He said sternly, standing straight to his full height so he could look down at the young boy, a look of disapproval crossing his features. He was surprised to see that he wasn't much taller than Bruce anymore. The kid must have grown quite a bit. He swore he could lean down and just plant a smooch on him. Jerome almost laughed at the thought. THAT would certainly get a reaction.

But Jerome wouldn't go that far, the boy was still, well, a boy. And rude. Plus, call him old-fashioned, but Jerome preferred a willing participant when engaging in romantic affairs.

"Especially a guest that you should be thanking." He said condescendingly, clucking his tongue at the boy. "Didn't your parents teach you any manners? Oh wait." Jerome covered his mouth as if he said something naughty, his eyes alight with the classic 'oops' expression. "I forgot. Sorry." Jerome said sincerely. "Well, at least they taught you not to walk down alleys!" Jerome said laughing, it filled the room again as he clutched at his sides.

Bruce felt his blood boil. His hands turned to fists as he saw the maniac shake with laughter. He tried to clamp down on the emotions coursing through him, lest he loses control. He stood expressionless, and put his hands folded behind his back, to keep him from striking Jerome. Wayne wasn't an aggressive person and didn't believe in using violence resolve issues, but for Jerome, he could make an exception.

Jerome again calmed himself, wiping tears from his eyes as he turned to Bruce. Bruce stood like a statue, nothing in his expression gave away the fury he kept locked away inside.This kid was one tough cookie, Jerome decided. He wasn't like Ivy, who no doubt would have lashed out at Jerome, had he insulted her in such a way. No, Bruce wasn't giving him anything, which angered and also excited Jerome.

He'd dealt with tough crowds before. He could handle Bruce Wayne.

"What do you want Jerome?" Bruce asked again, fed up with the elder teens antics. 

"Ooh, that's a loaded question Brucie. I want a ton of things! If I started listing off all I wanted, we'd be her all day." He said with an overly dramatic sigh. He looked away from Bruce, imagining being on a paradise island full of admirers, and of course, monuments of Jerome. "Here's an easier one. What do you want, hmm? Aside from the whole living parents thing." He waved off. "What do you want?" He asked seriously, his voice lowered in an attempt to inimidate the boy. He moved closer to Bruce, his face now only inches from the billionaires. He searched the young boys' dark eyes, looking for any cracks in his stony expression.

Bruce dared not step back, refusing to let Jerome know he had an effect on the young boy. His hot breath touched his face, and Bruce's heart sped up. He looked at Jerome intently, seeing his green eyes clearly for the first time. They were wild and full of life, and currently completely focused on Bruce. Confused, Wayne wondered why he didn't only feel fear when meeting the older teens eyes. Instead, he found himself captivated, wondering how someone so awful could have eyes so colorful. A small smile formed on Jerome's face, one of childlike wonder, his eyes alight as if he had just discovered something big. Bruce did not know what to do, he'd never been in a situation like this. The tension between them filled the room, as neither of them made a move. Bruce tried to keep eye contact, until instinctively his eyes dipped down, looking at Jeromes' lips. Bruce didn't notice he was leaning in until he heard a stirring in the room.

Jerome stepped back, his expression surprised and irritated. With one last fleeting glance toward Bruce, he turned to the source of the noise. It was the masked man, who was now starting to wake up. 

Jerome turned to Bruce, who looked startled. He didn't mean to give the impression that he was trying to make a move on the maniac, he'd just been lost in thought.

"Listen Brucie, we got a problem." Jerome gestured to the man, smirking. "Or well, you do. So far all my acts of kindness have not only been ignored but also discouraged. So." He dropped his hand and turned to the window. Smirking he turned back to the younger teen, a look of mischief on the gingers face. "I'm gonna bounce, seeing as I'm clearly unwanted here." He strolled to the window, taking slow eased steps.

"Wait!" Said a desperate Wayne. He knew he would not be able to fight off the intruder, especially since his only ally was passed out on the ground. He'd been training to fight common street thugs, his skills nothing compared to what seemed to be an assassin. 

Jerome grinned, and crossed his hands in front of him, trying to contain his excitement. "Fine, since you asked so nicely" he purred. "But, this doesn't come for free. You're gonna have to fill me in on what's been going on in Gotham, give me a place to stay, get me clothes yadda, yadda." He said flippantly. " And we're gonna have a sleep over. The whole shebang. I'm talking face masks, scary movies, braiding each other's hair. Everything. Deal?" He said smiling, his tone light and friendly.

Bruce really wanted to turn him down. But he had to deal with the bigger threat, and at the moment that was the Court of Owls. Jerome Valeska was still a big threat, but if Bruce played his cards right, kept him entertained, Jerome would not kill him. Hopefully. Also, if he had to choose to have Jerome as an ally rather than an enemy, he'd take the chance of ally, though it would likely not end well for Bruce, it was better than an immediate end, from the assassin or Jerome.

Bruce nodded regretfully, already loathing his decision. Jerome grinned and went to the masked man. Bruce looked around the body, finding a discarded tissue on the floor.Jerome followed his line of sight, and picked up the tissue. Giving a light sniff, he nodded, as if answering his own question.

"Yup that's chlorofrom alright." He said to himself.

Bruce looked at him questioningly.

"How do you know what chloroform smells like?" He asked, his tone serious.

Jeromes head snapped back to Bruce, his eyes hard and cold. He stood rigid, as if every muscle was tensed, and he was ready to attack.

"Now, a girl can't share all her secrets Brucie," He said with a lazy smile, his posture also relaxed and carefree. The only thing that gave him away were his eyes, that were now dark and humorless.

Bruce dropped the line of questioning, at least for the moment. He looked to Alfred, who still hadn't woken.

"Yes." He responded. "We have to move quickly, I have to call an ambulance for Alfred." Bruce said hurriedly. Jerome rolled his eyes, and sat on the man as he forcibly held the napkin over his face. The man flailed his arms, trying to fight off the effect of the drugs and escape. Jerome yawned at this, and waited until the man had stopped moving.Jumping up he looked at Bruce, who held a rope in one hand and duct tape in the other.

"Let's tie him up and hide him, then I will call the authorities." Bruce said. He hadn't imagined he'd ever be saying those words, but it didn't really matter considering his butler was passed out and in need or medical assistance.

Jerome narrowed his eyes and took a step toward Bruce. "Make sure not to mention your old pal, kay Bruce? I'd hate to see what would happen to your friend Selina if you tried to get me locked up." He said with a threatening smile.

And boy, did that do the trick. Bruce went pale, his hand clutching his phone. They both knew that Jerome wasn't bluffing. Bruce stashed his phone without a word, and instead handed the rope and tape to Jerome. How did Jerome know about Selina? Just how long has he been back? And why was he so focused on Bruce?

After Jerome was satisfied with the knots he made in the rope, he stood up to admire his work. The masked man was tied quite well, if you'd ask Jerome. He thought he did a wonderful job, there was no way the man was escaping without a fight.

"I have a place we can put him, a basement of sorts." Bruce said nonchalantly, picking up the masked mans legs. He tried to keep his tone light, as if this was a totally normal thing to be doing on a Friday night, and not the weirdest thing Wayne had ever done.Jerome picked up the mans top half, and the two proceeded to walk through the dark manor.

"So, tell me about this 'basement of sorts," Jerome said with a grin, wondering why of all things to be secretive about, Bruce chose his basement. Bruce didn't respond, which only encouraged Jerome. Amusing theories popped into his head, and he tried to suppress a chuckle.

"It's a sex dungeon, isn't it? Rich people are always into that shit." Jerome asked. Bruce looked back at him, his nose scrunched up in disgust. Jerome only laughed, irritating the young billionaire. 

"Come onnnnn. Tell me. I won't shut up until you do." He chirped, shaking the body, as it wiggled in Bruce's hands. Bruce continued to ignore Jerome, instead of trying to keep a good grip on the intruder, much to the older teens displeasure.They reached the staircase, with Bruce leading the charge. Jerome scoffed, not at all feeling up to carrying the guy down the stairs. It's not that he couldn't, he just didn't want to. He'd only been alive for a week, and Jerome was sure he could handle himself if he needed, he still hadn't had time to work out his muscles, which if you asked Jerome, were pretty nice. 

Jerome dropped the body to the ground, which made a loud thud. The intruder landed like a rag doll, much to Jeromes amusement. A chuckle escaped him, earning a startled glare from his favorite volunteer.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, trying to be quiet, despite there being not one reason to be quiet. Bruce felt if they were too loud, someone would overhear them and come investigate, despite the fact Bruce didn't have any neighbors.

Jerome, without warning, kicked with all his might and sent the man sliding down the first set of stairs. The billionaire jumped out of the way, trying to make sure he didn't take a tumble down the stairs too. He crashed into the wall with a bang. Jerome let out a laugh as Wayne let out a quiet shriek.

"Stop! Your going to hurt him!" He whispered angrily, jogging down to the stairs to check on the intruder. Jerome rolled his eyes. Did this kid think he'd get a award for being a goody two shoes? Or was he naturally this annoying?

"And? Who cares? if we were doing this my way, he'd be dead. In fact, I would have chopped him up and made him into a casserole for Alfred. You know, like a 'get well soon' casserole. That would be the nice thing to do. But," Jerome dragged out. "You dont wanna kill him, so, a guys gotta get his kicks somewhere." Jerome said matter of factly. Then he laughed at a completely unamused Wayne, who pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Get it? Kicks? Cause I kicked him down the stairs?" Jerome said, his smile fading."Ugh. Some people just don't value comedy." Jerome said sighing dramatically. Wayne reactions to Jerome amused him, but also annoyed him. 

Bruce just turned and picked up the man, waiting for Jerome to get a move on and help him.

Jerome rolled his eyes, and picked up the other half of the man. He looked pointedly at Bruce with a 'are you happy now?' expression, the pair making their way down the stairs again.

They made their way through the manor, this time Jerome looked around, trying to memorize the floor plan of the house as best as he could. Never know when that information could come in handy, he thought to himself, eyeing the young teen in front of him. He could've sworn the kid was going through a goth phase or something, his black turtleneck and dark pants making it seem as if the kid was melting into the shadows of the manor. They reached a new room, Wayne slowly setting his half of the assassins body down, before entering the room and the shadows enveloping him completely.

"What the fuck?" Jerome said, caught off guard at the sight of an actual cave entrance in the room. Wayne didn't answer, instead, he ushered Jerome into it. They desended down, until lightly dropping the intruder onto a desk chair. They placed the man in it, Jerome taking over by lifting the man up by his torso, grunting as Wayne began tying him to it with some leftover rope.

Jerome would DEFINETLY be asking about this. He could only imagine all the weird shit the Wayne's did in the cave. You never know when it comes to rich people. Jerome let his mind wander of all the possibilities as to why this cave would even exist, as Bruce went up to the sleeping man, and slowly took off his mask.

Not knowing what to expect, Brice feared the worst. What if it was one of his parents friends? Or a member of the GCPD? He wouldn't be surprised, which only saddened him more. But Bruce saw none of these things. Instead, Bruce saw a face he did not recognize. He and Jerome studied the man's features. The man had dark hair and an average face, nothing special. Bruce would get the color of his eyes later, maybe if they decided to interrogate him. Bruce sighed, why did people he didn't even know always attack him?

Jerome chuckled, done with his assesment of the stranger. Turning to Bruce, he grinned.

"Well, I think we can both agree," he said, his smile wider. "I'm definitely the hottest person who has tried to hold you hostage." Jerome held his grin, until Bruce looked at him incredulously, his expression disgusted. Jerome laughed, and then tapped the boys shoulder with his own gently. 

"Lighten up kid, I'm only teasing." He said with a small smile. He was reminded of when Ivy had assumed that Jerome would make advances on her, and didn't want Bruce to assume the same. He turned and made his way up and out of the cave, thinking that the young billionaire was following close behind.

Instead, Bruce stood there dumbfounded. Trying to ignore his feelings.

Bruce wanted to believe the source of his disgust was Jerome, but he knew deep down it wasn't.

It was the fact that Bruce impulsively couldn't find it within himself to disagree with Jerome. Given a moment to think, he'd disagree, but Bruce would always know that was not his initial reaction.

He couldn't fathom why, and wasn't sure if he'd ever want to find out.