Schooled [Laughing JackxReader]

14

From then on it was impossible to get Laughing Jack to talk about Brian. Every time you brought it up he'd dance around the subject, never giving you a straight answer, sometimes switching to something completely random instead. After about three days you gave up. Brian had tried to shoot you. Why should you care so much about his well-being?

The sky was overcast, full of low-hanging gray clouds, swollen with rain, threatening to pour down at any moment. You stood outside with your students, watching the rainclouds as the children ran to and fro across the small playground. A cold breeze nipped at your skin through your (f/c) raincoat.

Three kids came running up to you, the gravel crunching loudly underneath their feet. They all seemed out of breath, with red faces and eyes like saucers. They all began talking at you at once, breathless and frantic. You held out your hands, signalling for them to quiet down.

"Alright, one at a time. What happened?" You asked. Your eyes quickly scanned the playground, but you didn't see any kids who looked hurt, any fights, or stray animals.

Kellan, one of your boldest students, was the first one to speak up. He flung his pudgy arm around and pointed an accusatory finger towards the trees. "There's a man in The Woods. We saw him. A big tall man with white skin and HUGE hands. We swear!"

'The Woods' was the kids' nickname for a cluster of trees just beyond the playground fence. The seam of greenery only served as a division between the school and a Hospice, but the kids were still mystified by it, convinced it spanned into infinity and held all sorts of fairies and creatures. It was normal for them to claim they saw things in it, but the fear in their eyes was real this time. Besides, their description sounded dreadfully familiar. You looked up at The Woods and saw a retreating flash of black and white.

"Laughing Jack!" You swung open the hotel door. The clown was stretched out on the bed, watching disney's the Princess and the Frog on TV. The clown had taken to watching movies while you were gone. You'd caught him watching Tangled, Water For Elephants, Cinderella, The Phantom of the Opera, and many others. He looked at you in surprise, taken aback by your angry tone. "What were you doing at the school? You promised you'd stay away!"

Jack blinked, processing what you had said. His eyebrows drew close together. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you were there."

Laughing Jack shook his head. You rolled your eyes.

"The kids saw a 'big tall man' with white skin and huge hands in the trees. Sound familiar?" You crossed your arms. Why was he denying it? You knew it was him.

"It wasn't me."

"Who else could it be?!"

The clown shook his head once more. You sighed in exasperation and sat down at the table with your papers. You expected him to start bothering you, asking you to play. To your surprise, he didn't. The clown just quietly watched his movie and didn't make a sound. In a silence you hadn't experienced in weeks, you settled in and focused on grading.

By the time you finished, the movie had ended and was replaced by some sort of family sitcom. Laughing Jack hated sitcoms.

"Hey Jack, I'm done grading now." You turned in your seat to face him, but he wasn't on the bed. You looked around, but he was nowhere in sight. On a hunch you checked under the bed and in the closet. You looked behind the shower curtain and out into the hall. He was gone.

That evening was unsettlingly quiet. You read a book, worked on lesson plans, watched some TV. You thought you'd be relieved when Laughing Jack disappeared-even if it was temporary- but you weren't relieved at all. You might have made him angry, so you were scared. You also might have hurt his feelings by not trusting him, which made you feel...a little bad? He had honored his word up until today. But then again, how could you be sure of that? When you crawled into bed that night, you couldn't help but feel.....lonely.

Your back was cold, but your face was warm. That was your first thought. Your second thought was that it smelled warm. Warm and nice, like sugar cookies fresh out of the oven. But your back was very cold. You were nearly awake by the time you connected the tickling sensation on your cheek with feathers. Feathers....

Your eyes shot open. It was dark. Soft, crunchy footsteps and scraping accompanied the rustling of leaves and other foresty sounds. You rocked slightly up and down in time with the footfalls. You were being carried, and you knew exactly who was carrying you.

"Where are.....what are you doing? Put me down!" You exclaimed, the words coming slowly from your drowsy mind. Laughing Jack's grip on you tightened.

"Keep your voice down." He hissed through clenched teeth. With one arm he was carrying you, cradled against his chest, and with the other he was dragging your suitcase. Just what the hell was going on?

"Put. me. down." You demanded, squirming in his grip. Reluctantly he set you down on your feet. Something about him struck you as odd. He looked paranoid or on edge or something. His grey eyes darted back and forth, searching the forest around you. Still, you weren't too happy about being kidnapped.

"First you disappear without a word, then you drag me out into the woods in the middle of the night. What's going on?" You asked, arms crossed.

Laughing Jack's eyes settled back on you. "We're in trouble." He said in a hushed voice. The clown's lips didn't move at all as he spoke, and his face kept stiff, like a plastic doll. "We need to keep moving."

Jack reached out to grab your wrist, but you pulled it away. Your eyebrows drew close together. The way he was acting and his still, serious face unsettled you. "What do you mean we're in trouble?"

"I can't tell you." Laughing Jack replied, still not moving his lips or face at all. You got the impression that he was putting an enormous effort into remaining expressionless for some reason. Was he....putting on a brave face for you? A lump of fear settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Why not?" You insisted, your frustration beating out the fear.

"Just- just trust me. If I tell you it'll be too late. I'm trying to protect you."

You scoffed. That was the last straw. All your pent-up frustration bubbled to the surface at last. "PROTECT me? You expect me to believe that? When have you ever done anything but pester or endanger me?"

Laughing Jack's face finally moved, just slightly. His eyebrows drew a little closer together, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards. He glared at you. "Trust me."

"Why should I?" You challenged, returning his glare.

Laughing Jack stepped forward so you were toe to toe. The clown towered over you, and his hair fell forward just slightly as he glared down at you. His hand shot towards your face and you flinched, losing your brave face completely. Instead of striking you, his large hand brushed behind your ear and lingered there for a moment. You felt heat rush to your cheeks. What was he doing?

His hand drew in front of your face, something now clenched between his thumb and forefinger. A magic trick, you realized, only a magic trick. It was what he now held in front of you that was important. It was a bullet, one that had been fired, but without any dents or marks. Laughing Jack used his free hand to lift one of yours, placed the bullet in your palm, and stepped back.

A sense of understanding washed over you. You knew where this bullet came from. You vividly remembered staring down the barrel of Brian's gun, scared and confused, hearing the shot go off but never feeling any pain. Brian's gun hadn't misfired like you'd thought. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, Laughing Jack had left the closet and stopped it. All this time you owed him your life and didn't even know it.

Your hand closed around the bullet and you let out a quiet sigh. "Where are we going?"

Laughing Jack smiled.