Schooled [Laughing JackxReader]

18

I love you. Don't leave me.

You awoke to a white world. It wasn't a room; there were no distinguishable walls or a ceiling. Everywhere you looked the whiteness seemed to extend forever. You knew you were dead; you explicitly remembered dying. This had to be some sort of afterlife, but....this wasn't exactly what you imagined heaven would be like, or hell. You started to wander around so you could maybe get a clue as to where you were, but no matter how long you walked, the scenery never changed.

Just as all hope was about to be lost, you noticed a little black dot on the horizon. What it was didn't matter, you were just happy to finally find something. You ran towards it, quickly closing the distance between you and the thing. As you got closer, you realized that it wasn't just an object at all; it was a man. Your heart pounded anxiously as you approached him.

The man was lying on his back, holding a small wooden box a few centimeters above his chest. He stared at it with a half-lidded, unfocused gaze, as if he were deep in thought. Lying next to him was a white venetian fiend mask with a long, narrow nose and angry eyes. The man himself was fairly pale, with a bit of stubble and shaggy blonde hair. Even more curious was his ragged victorian attire. The guy seemed...a little sketchy, but he was the only other person you'd seen, so you had to take this opportunity to get some answers.

"Excuse me..." You said. He didn't seem to notice you at all. "Um, hello? You with the box? I was wondering if you could tell me where..."

You trailed off as he still didn't seem to notice you. A little irked, you crouched down and tapped his shoulder. Finally he snapped out of his daze. His clear blue eyes widened and he immediately took action, rolling away from you and springing onto his feet. He held the box under one arm and pointed at you with the other.

"Bloody hell- who the devil are you??!" He exclaimed. He spoke with a thick british accent and seemed...startled, to say the least, like he really wasn't expecting company.

"I'm....(y/n). I, uh- well, I was wondering if you could tell me where I am? Or I guess where we are?" You explained. The man seemed to settle down a bit, and now looked at you with a kind of cautious curiosity.

"I'd say you were an illusion but this is just too weird." The man scratched his chin. "A woman wearing pants? And that strange accent....what's the year?"

"The year? Um..2015?"

The man put a hand to his forehead. "2015....nearly 200 years..." He said in disbelief, "And the damn clown's still going. Incredible."

You perked up a little. "Clown? So you know Laughing Jack?"

"Do I know Laughing Jack? Hah!" The man chuckled, "I created 'im! ...More or less." You stared at the man in confusion, and he held out his hand to you. "Name's Isaac. Isaac Grossman."

You reluctantly shook his hand. "Okay, Isaac...what do you mean you 'created' Laughing Jack?"

Isaac shrugged his shoulders. "Well, can't say I'm the one who brought 'im to life, but ol' Jack was made for me, sortof like a Christmas wish." He held out the wooden box he was holding. It was old and the paint was chipped and faded, but you could tell it had been beautifully colored once upon a time. " 'e came to me outta nowhere, right 'ere in this little box. We used to be best friends, Jack an' I. But that was a long time ago, before I wound up 'ere."

"And where's here?"

"Could call it purgatory, got no better name for it." Isaac said. When you still looked at him with confusion, he posed the question, "So were you friends with Laughing Jack?"

You nodded, "Yes, we were, until...."

"Until you died." Isaac stated, completing your sentence for you. You nodded and he explained, "That's the thing. Laughing Jack 'as a weird effect on spirits. He keeps 'em bound to 'im, in a sense. Holds on to the ones he likes. And I don't think he really knows he does it, either. You've seen the dead kids, am I right?" He waited for your confirmation and continued, "They pass through here too, but they never stay for long. Laughing Jack's power over 'em is strong enough that they don't 'ave a choice. They go to the Carnival. But you and me, we're different. We do 'ave a choice."

Your eyebrows drew close together. "What choice? What are you talking about?"

"Y'see, Laughing Jack's got enough power to put you 'ere, but got enough to keep you." Isaac looked up at the empty white sky, "Now that you're 'ere you've got a say in where you go next. You could move on, go to 'eaven or 'ell or whatever the next plane is. Or you could go back spend the rest of eternity in Jack's carnival." He scratched his chin again, "Guess you could say we're lucky. Not many people get a say in how they're gonna spend their afterlife."

You looked up at the sky as well. That was a lot to take in at once. You'd never considered having to make a choice after you died, but now you were faced with two options for how to spend the rest of eternity. You still had one more question for him, though. "Isaac....if you know all of this, how come you're still here? Why haven't you made your choice?"

Isaac sighed and looked down at his box. He ran his hand over the wooden lid and a small, sad smile formed on his lips. "Y'seem like a good woman, (y/n). And I'm guessin' you left Laughing Jack in good graces, too. But I'm neither good nor in good graces."

"But...I thought you said you were best friends with Laughing Jack?"

"I was. But we didn't exactly part on good terms." Issac's fingers curled around the box's small crank and he began to turn it slowly. A familiar creaky version of pop goes the weasel began to play from inside it. "When I was a kid we 'ad lot's of fun. But then I abandoned 'im, left 'im alone in this box for years while I was in school. Forgot about 'im. When I came back, I started gettin' into bad stuff. Killed a lot of fine folks for no damn reason. When Laughing Jack got out, he'd changed. Started killin' things to, and I was 'is first victim. No doubt 'e hates me, for leavin' 'im to rot like that. There's nothin' in that life that I don't regret." The song ended and the lid swung open, but nothing popped out. It was just an empty box.

You frowned sympathetically. It sounded like he'd made a lot of mistakes in his life. "But if you're here, then Laughing Jack must be holding onto you. Maybe he does still care about you."

"You could be right." Isaac let out a sad chuckle, "But I'm just a coward, miss. Too scared to face 'im, and too scared to rot in 'ell like I deserve." He rubbed his eye, then looked back up at you. "So what about you? What're you going to choose?"

You thought about it. You thought about your last moments, and Laughing Jack's last words. The choice was clear really. "I know where I need to be." You gave a determined nod, then paused, "And...you're sure you want to stay here? Forever?"

Isaac smiled, "Don't you worry about me. I've grown accustomed to this place. And who knows, give me another century or two and I might muster up the courage to join you."

Your form began to fade away, slowly turning transparent from your feet up. You were confident in your choice; it felt like it was always meant to be. "Thank you, Isaac. I hope we meet again."

"Put in a good word for me, won't you (y/n)?" Isaac grinned. His voice sounded far away.

"I will!" You called back, and then you were gone.