This fic is dedicated to my friend Leah. Anyway yes I know that Jack Napier isn't anywhere near to what he was described as in 'The Killing Joke' but I don't care I wanted to write him like this so I did and hopefully you guys will like the changes I made. Please review.

Sometimes I remember things. Just little pieces of information from someone else's past. I remember his name was Jack Aaron Napier, he was born on August 14th 1973, that would make him 34 if he were still alive, well he's alive just not in the technical sense. Sometimes late at night when everything is still and quiet I can feel him inside of me, begging to be let out, begging for sanity, for grounding for something.

He was born in Jerusalem. From his mind sometimes I can see the city. I can see the temples shining in the sun, I can hear the ringing of bells and I mention that I want to visit it someday and he closes the picture off and hugs it close to himself like a child. His parents are still alive, somewhere in Gotham that much I know. He's smart and keeps that information locked deep inside of himself. I'll find out one day though. He can never keep his secrets from me.

His voice grows loud when the Bat rears his ugly cowled head. He screams and begs and it's the only time when I hear his voice as clear as day. Batsy never hears him though and he never will. He is trapped with me. Sometimes though he's so quiet for so long I think he finally has given up and died. Wouldn't that be fun, like a form of suicide in a way? But he always comes back, his voice a little weaker than before, a little more numb.

He prays, it's annoying his constant whispering in Hebrew as I slaughter yet another innocent and sometimes I laugh just to drown out the words in my head. It never works and his whispers overwhelm me some times as the invisible words spiral out the top of my skull and make their way to God's deaf ears.

I've tried to murder him, done everything short of stabbing myself in the head to get him to shut up. I don't tell anyone about him, he's my secret, my inner tormenter trying to ruin all my jokes with his whining and pleading. No, he will stay with me, wouldn't want anyone to think I was crazy, hearing voices from a past you know isn't yours isn't exactly normal. Then again normal is boring so I suppose he just adds to the joke of life.

He was 27 when I was born. His unholy child born of his flesh and blood and the chemical tank he fell into. I don't know why he was there that night and I don't care, I'm sure I'll find out eventually though. Like I said he can never keep anything from me.

If I concentrate hard enough I can see him. He stares back at me, hatred in his sapphire eyes staring into my own emeralds. His hair is black and his skin is sun kissed, his face is hard, there are no smile lines and no matter how hard I try I can't get him to crack a smile or even chuckle. He is everything I'm not. He repulses me and I him. Yet we are stuck together like Siamese twins. We can not escape the other no matter how hard we try.

I do love to make him panic though. Its more fun than antagonizing Batman. Because he can't stop me, no matter how much he prays and begs and cries. So I pick up my tattered suitcase, throwing clothes into it haphazardly.

"We goin on a trip puddin?" I hear Harley ask behind me.

I don't turn to look at her but I smile and say "I thought we might take a vacation, you up for Jerusalem?"

He's like a moth under glass. Fluttering, panicking and not able to do a thing about it.

"Sorry Jackie, I want to see it, I wanna hear those bells," I whisper before I begin to laugh joyfully.