Gotham Imagines

Depth of Insanity

Author's Note: This is indeed the same story that I had published a while ago, so if you've already read that (it was titled the same, just as a separate thing) than you can skip this chapter. I just felt it should be a part of these imagines, rather than on it's own. So i unpublished the other one.

Jerome x Reader

    You glide through the air, clutching the trapeze bar with your sweaty palms. Jerome is down below, and as you jump onto the next bar in what feels like slow motion, you meet his gaze for a moment. Those same green eyes you've known for years, full of memories, full of good times and bad.
    You've known Jerome since you were kids, the two of you were practically inseparable. Your home had almost always been the circus, and so had his; it was that simple...until this year. The two of you are turning 18, making things more complicated. Because you think you've caught feelings for him. His sweet smile, his loving nature, his funny jokes. Would he ever want to be more than just friends?
    Another major part of your life is the trapeze, the perfect escape for sticky situations like first love.
          When you were little, your mother left you, left you with nothing but a phone number. You were sent away to the owner of that number, your father, a trapeze artist at Haly's Circus. He took you into his custody and has loved and protected you ever since, even teaching you how to fly through the air on strings just the way he does.
    It was, at first, a frustrating hobby, but it became more of a lifestyle. You did your thing and soared through the air with your fellow flyers and the audience was simply an extra element. Every time you jump, you feel weightless, it's like letting go of your problems. Every moment in the air is like a dream.
    The show is over now, and you walk past the other trapeze artists, some smiling and waving, some just glaring or turning when you walk in their direction. Most at Haly's aren't exactly friendly, but you are usually able to weed out the rude ones.
          Jerome greets you outside the tent, through a back exit used by circus employees only. You take Jerome's hands as he stands up.
"Nice show, huh?" you ask playfully.
"Went pretty well." he provides a lopsided smile.
He seems nervous for some reason. He's usually a bit more happy; it's like something is weighing on him. "You okay?"
"Fine...I just..."
You stared at him expectantly.
"Y/N...it's just...I think I might like...you..."
Your worried expression quickly changes into a grin, grateful and relieved. "Jerome..." you're practically speechless. "I...I love you too!"
His expression is all relief. He squeezes your hands and leans in closer to you. His kiss was warm, his lips soft against yours. You tried not to ruin it, but you can't help but smile. Everything is just so perfect, the way it all fell into place.

It's been months now since you first kissed him, many more kisses following. The two of you are constantly together, and everyone knew you were basically an item. Things were just fine until one day. The performance was your first in the city of Gotham, a place you never heard good things about. All was going well until fighting broke out during the clown act.
    The rest of the day didn't get any better. Later on, you find out that Jerome's mother has been murdered. You see the body, watch as Jerome crumples to the ground, in tears over his mother's death. To be honest, you aren't even the slightest bit sad, for Lyla was consistently a terrible parent, but you can't bear to see Jerome upset. You always run to his side, even in the darkest of times.
    The next few days are all a blur. Investigations took place. Who killed Lyla? Why did they do it? Was it someone at Haly's? Blah, blah, blah. You comfort Jerome as best you can, but he is simply crushed and always asking to be alone.
So the day he was asked to go answer questions at the precinct again was a bit of a surprise. You wait worriedly in your father's trailer, calling Jerome's cell every ten minutes.
"I'm sure it's nothing," your dad assures you.
"Yeah," you say distractedly. "I'm sure." But something feels strange.
It's half an hour before you heard news. Incoming call, your phone read.
"Jerome??" you ask the moment you pick up, but it isn't.
"Hello, Miss Y/L/N? This is Officer Gordon. GCPD."
Your shoulders fall, you slump into your couch. "Where is he? Where's Jerome?"
"He's, uh, being sent to Arkham Asylum."
    A short gasp escapes your mouth. "What?! Arkham?!" you practically scream into the phone. "Why?!"
          "He's criminally insane. Committed matricide."
          "M–matricide?! That's crazy! He would NEVER kill anyone; he's the sweetest person I know!" you shoot back at him.
          "I'm afraid not." Gordon answers. "If you have any further questions feel free to ask." And that was all. He hung up.
          You let the phone slip from your hand and exhaled, your eyes closed. "I have to help him," you whisper.