Schooled [Laughing JackxReader]

[Final Chapter] 19

Laughing Jack tried, but he just couldn't find the 'fun' in 'funeral'.

The clown made sure your body was found, of course. He'd been around long enough to know how important this ridiculous death ceremony was to humans. Jack had gone back and left a trail of clues that even a Cop would be able to follow, allowing them to find your remains in the cabin in the woods. Of course, they couldn't find much other evidence there to help solve the case. Without any interference from Laughing Jack at all, they'd come up with Brian as the prime suspect. That brought the clown a little bit of satisfaction, but not much. Not enough.

Laughing Jack frowned, deeply unsatisfied by the morning's sunny weather. In movies, it was always gloomy and rainy at funerals. The world seemed far too happy and content to keep spinning. Didn't it care at all that you were dead? From the shade of a thick pine tree on a hill, Laughing Jack watched the black mass of mourners gathered around your grave. He was about a hundred yards away fom them, to avoid being spotted. He wasn't even sure what he was doing here now- he wouldn't be able to go out in the open and visit your grave until nighttime- but he also couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

The Clown sat down and leaned against the tree. He summoned your photo album from his sleeve and began to deftly flip through it. He'd looked through it countless times since you had died. Laughing Jack scowled at yours and Brian's prom picture. The clown took the picture out and scratched at it with the end of his claw until Brian's face was no more that a flaky white patch. Satisfied with his work, he put the picture back into the album and continued to flip through the photographs.

He stayed there for countless hours, until the moon had taken the sun's place in the sky. Laughing Jack looked out over the graveyard. It was finally empty. He made his way down the hill and wove through the gravestones to your freshly filled-in patch of dirt. You had a simple headstone, which read (f/n) (l/n) , Beloved Daughter and Friend. There were heaps of flowers, letters, pictures, and trinkets piled all around the grave. Feeling he should add to the collection, Laughing Jack reached into his sleeves and produced a few objects. One by one and with great care, he placed them by your headstone; the coloring book and box of crayons you'd given him, a few balloon animals, and your baseball bat. He paused for a moment, then added a handful of his colorful hard candies.

When he was finished, he backed up a few steps and sat down at the foot of your grave. He scratched at the dirt a little and picked at the grass. What was he supposed to do now, he wondered. Though, sitting there in the grass, six feet above all that was left of you, he didn't feel a particular inclination to do anything. Anything at all.

Laughing Jack wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there before the beams of a flashlight shone in his face and broke his concentration. He squinted at the light and looked up with a mixture of surprise and frustration on his face. A few feet away stood a scraggly old man, looking equally dumbfounded and shining his flashlight at the clown. Oh, great, thought Laughing Jack, a late shift worker.

"Graveyard's closed." The old man said, "You need to.....leave...."

The confidence and authority left the old man's voice as Laughing Jack got to his feet and rose to his full height, effectively towering over the graveyard worker. The clown cast a mean glare towards the old man, which only made him more menacing.

"No." Laughing Jack growled. He started to pull back his arm, preparing his claws to strike, "You need to leave us-" Laughing Jack stopped. He looked at your headstone. There wasn't an 'us' anymore. Just him. "...alone...."

The old man quivered with fear of the monster before him. Laughing Jack let his hand drop. The clown backed up a few steps, then turned and sprinted away. Just as he reached the end of the flashlight's beam, he vanished in a poof of smoke.

The dark graveyard was replaced with Laughing Jack's dimly lit carnival. Dead kids mulled around as usual, but all the rides had stopped moving, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy had faded, and the creaky version of Pop Goes the Weasel no longer played. The atmosphere was more empty now, more abandoned.

Laughing Jack trudged through the carnival to the big top. The rows and rows of seats were vacant, as usual. The rope that once held Brian still sat, discarded and tangled, on the ground. The Clown went over and banged his fist on the post.

"It's too damn quiet in here." He complained, to no one in particular. Laughing Jack banged on the post a few more times and growled. Pop goes The Weasel slowly, quietly, as if every note was a struggle, began to play again. It only lasted for a few measures before it began to fade away and then ceased entirely.

"Come on." Laughing Jack exclaimed. His frustration rising, he started full-on negotiating with the Carnival. "You know this song. You can do this. Round and round the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel....the monkey thought 'twas all in good fun....."

"Pop! Goes the Weasel."

Laughing Jack turned sharply on his heels. The voice that sang the last line. He knew that voice. "(y/n)?" He said under his breath. He could hardly believe it. There you stood, peeking into the big top, looking a little paler than usual but definitely there. "(Y/N)!!"

Laughing Jack pounced on you, wrapping his arms around your torso and sending both of you crashing onto the ground. You giggled at his enthusiastic greeting and let him squeeze you and nuzzle your neck to his heart's content.

"How're you- I don't- Why?" Jack stuttered, pushing himself up a little to look at you. The clown was so excited and flustered, he was speaking in fragments. He noticed the five small, bloody holes in your chest, just like the ones left on your corpse.

You smiled up at him. "I had the chance to think about it, and...I decided this was where I needed to be." You paused for a moment, "Besides, there's something I need to tell you."

The Clown's smile faltered a little. He tilted his head to the side, like a curious puppy. "What is it?"

"I love you too." Before the clown could react, you quickly pressed your lips against his and let them linger there for a few moments. Laughing Jack's pale eyes were as wide as saucers, and as soon as you broke the kiss, his face broke out into an uncontrollable smile. "And I'm never going to leave you."

Lights flicked on, rides whirred to life, and above the noise of it all, the carnival crooned out a bright rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel.