First time meeting

First meeting

He slowly leaned in, the boy's pale looking fingertips gently touching the scarred skin in front it him. In return he received a cackle from the other person. Maybe a more describable thing as a laugh but he wasn't really paying attention towards it. Not more than he wanted it to distract him. It wasn't of any importance anyways. The only thing that was wrong was that he shouldn't laugh. This was a serious issue and he knew it. "Stay silent..". Jonathan hissed underneath his breath on a low tone, pushing some locks of brown hair out of his face to be able to look better at what he was doing.

Jerome grinned widely, staring at the brunet in front of him. He was obviously enjoying the building annoyance in Jonathan's eyes. Or for most he could see. He wasn't wearing his mask so at least that was something of a improvement to their trust. "You know there's only one way to make me shut up, Jonnieboy". The ginger hummed cockily, wiggling with his eyebrows when a wicked smile appeared on his face. The cuts on his face making the smile even wider than it was probably meant. Yet it wouldn't surprise him if he actually wanted it like that. As reaction the somewhat smaller figure turned his head, looking straightly into the enthusiastic bright-shining eyes with the biggest death-glare he could pull.

"What? I was referring to chicken nuggets.. Don't you like chicken nuggets?". Jerome asked with a pout, his smile fading for a huge acted pout. Jonathan's death-glare disappeared. Only to make place for a most disappointed or annoyed sigh. He shook his head a little. This only causing his hair to fall back into his face to his own despise. "You don't like chicken nuggets?". Jerome gasped dramatically, placing one hand on his chest in shock. "Oh god-".

Jonathan narrowed his eyes a little and looked back at the needle in his hand, overthinking the idea to stab Jerome with it instead of fixing up the wound at the ginger's arm. But on the other hand, Jerome would probably like it either way so the thought of executing his idea remained an actual thought. Before he could realize what happened, Jerome's hand shot forwards to boop his nose. Jonathan immediately froze at the physical contact. On the other side, the other cackled again, loving every bit of the brunet's insecurities. "Ahh, I'm just kidding". Jerome scoffed, smiling widely as he shifted on spot.

The other boy remained silent, staring at the still bloodied wound carved into Jerome's shoulder. He only had to clean it. Stitching hadn't been the problem. It was the fact that Jerome couldn't sit still. It was a big challenge to keep him on his spot, not to mention to keep him silent during the medical treatment. Jonathan quietly started cleaning it, ignoring whatever Jerome was saying in the meantime. That was until he heard a familiar word.

That word was Arkham.

"What?". Jonathan locked his eyes back onto Jerome's within seconds, staring straightly into his soul. Jerome rose an eyebrow in reaction, returning to his cocky ego for another time. "Jeez. Paying attention, aren't you? What I was saying, you're less insecure than you were when we met, back in Arkham".

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A metal door prevented him from seeing further than four meters max. Locked in a room with nothing more than a bed, including the sheets and a single pillow. That was it, a 3 by 4 meter room. No, it was no regular room. It was a prison.

They said they would take care of him further once he'd gotten transported to Arkham. He would receive further treatment and proper therapy for his specific matter of needs.

But they all lied to him. All he got treated for, was in the same way each lunatic in Arkham did. They had thrown a seventeen years-old boy into a building, filled with the biggest lunatics of all Gotham City. No one helped him. No one even attempted on talking with the boy.