13- TOO FAR

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Flash back:

"Jack are you serious, hanging out Mrs Schiffman's son? You know that boy is strange." Jack's mother turned to him, taking a break from washing the dishes to talk question him. Jack looked up from his bowl pinto beans and sighed.

"Mom, he's not strange, he's just quiet, like me." Jack explained, he enjoyed the company of soft-spoken people, ones that weren't too loud. Jack didn't like loud people; he didn't like them at all.

"But at least you actually talk." Jack's mother smiled. When the two were alone Jack could never shut up, Jack would go on and on about his day or a trivial matters her son saw the most fascination in. This opposed to when he was around other people, he would clam up and wouldn't speak.

Jack rolled his eyes, taking a big bite of the beans.

"Will is actually a really cool guy mom." He said between mouthfuls. Jack's mother chuckled, finding Jack's defence for his friend cute and his blubbered words even cuter.

"I'm sure he is." She smiled contently. She found this brief moment of peace refreshing, she enjoyed talking to her son when it wasn't cantered about darker moments. She found happiness in hearing Jack's youthful voice, when he knew they were alone, and he could speak freely without fear. Times like these both could be free. But it was rare for moments like these to last, things would soon fall back into the usual unhealthy pattern, good things would always come to end, especially in this house.

There was a click at the door, and a sudden slam. Jack's eyes darted to entrance of the kitchen; his ears listened to the familiar footsteps. His brain had already launched him into panic mood, Jack felt his luck fade.

"Lorraine! Where are you woman!?" A gruff voice yelled from another room. Jack felt himself immediately tense up, he dropped his spoon into the bowl. Jack and his mother both looked at each other, the mutual feeling of terror and distress resonated in both their eyes.

"Where the hell are you?!" The voice yelled unkindly; the strong voice boomed so loudly it snapped both of them out of their fearful trance. Lorraine looked at Jack fearfully.

"He's sounds like he drunk again." Jack said angrily. He hated when Mr Tate came home angry, it meant trouble for him and his mother. Lorraine also suspected the intoxication of her husband, it worried her deeply.

"LORRAINE! If you don't get here in the next second." Mr Tate yelled, his voice was threatening, dangerous if not heeded. Lorraine looked at her son apologetically, she knew if she wasn't there as he would do something. Jack noticed the look, he pleaded internally for her not to meet him.

"But mom, he's." Lorraine shook her head at her son. It was better to protect him this way.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. just head upstairs. Please." She begged. She did not want him to face the brunt of his step father's temper. Jack could see the worried look on his mother's face, the look a fear the both knew all too well.

"I hate him." Jack said between gritted teeth. He hated the lifestyle his mother was subjected to just to keep food on the table. He hated how they lived terrified in their own homes. Lorraine smiled at her son's bravery, but now was not the time. "Go." She mouthed silently. Jack quickly got up from the kitchen table, headed towards the door. He took once glace at his mother before making a break towards the stairs.

I hate him. Jack ran up the stair, quickly dragging his feet along. He reached him room and locked the door for safety measures, he knew what came next, he was so used to it. Jack sat on the floor, legs crossed and leaning against his bed, his usual comfort stance for times like these. His heart was pounding in his chest as he listened, waiting for the yelling and anger to erupt downstairs. And boy did it come, the swearing, the yelling, the worst of it all. He could hear Mr Tate yelling at his mother, berating and belittling her. Joker bit down on his lip hardly. He wished he could fly away in this moment, he wished he wasn't the poor boy in Gotham's slums, who lived with a horrible stepfather, and a mother who was too kind.

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