A/N

Hi there!

I need to stop getting ideas and uploading new fics because now I'll have to work on 5 simultaneously. Ah well, it's worth it.

This will be my second entry in the Gotham category although my Oswald fic Your Greatest Passion is far from finished. Admittedly, I won't be able to see full episodes from season 2 until Gotham's UK air date which is apparently next year *cries* but I am aware of what's been going on thanks to Youtube, Tumblr and handy online summaries. And oh my god I have already fallen in love with Jerome's character! Hence why this idea came to me almost 2 weeks ago. It's just taken me a while to write it since I'm lazy and had about 4 psychology essays to write last weekend.

This first chapter is shorter than the rest will be but it's just a brief intro to the story and to my OC Lacey Monroe, and I'm hoping to have the first fully-lengthened chapter up here within a week (probably a few days actually.)

But here is the result of 3 hours of non-stop writing, so I hope you all enjoy!

Jerome was no older than 17 when their paths first crossed.

He was sat outside his mother's trailer while she was was…busy, with yet another one of her gentleman callers. She'd practically thrown Jerome out of the trailer to be with this guy; well, that was after the pair of them had allowed their fists to do the talking. Surprisingly enough, Jerome had gotten used to the beatings – he'd had no choice in the matter – it wasn't like he could run away and join the circus. He already was part of one. Oh, the cruel irony!

So he simply stayed outside the trailer, knees hunched up to his chest, admiring the recent handiwork of his mother's latest 'friend' that was already making itself known on his arm.

Lacey Monroe was visiting the circus with her parents but had snuck away when they had started arguing. It happened a lot; the three of them would be having a nice time, almost like a real family, then without warning the peace would crumble and another war would break out.

Her father had a temper that regularly showed its ugly face. It felt like they were walking on eggshells every day and, while Lacey had rarely been on the receiving end, it was a whole other story for Mrs Monroe. When her mother had misplaced his car keys, he punched her in the gut. When her mother had burned dinner, he threw a plate at her head. And when she'd refused his idea of intercourse, he pushed her down the stairs.

The girl walked away from the dazzling lights and the sound of blaring music to where the staff trailers were in the hopes of getting a moment of peace to herself. The area was dimly lit but she could make out the silhouette of a boy her age sat on the ground outside one of the far trailers. It seemed that he hadn't noticed her so Lacey continued walking, recalling her father's words of warning about talking to strangers. She did her best to avoid eye contact with the boy; especially when he called out to her just before she could hide behind one of the trailers.

"Hey." He repeated, his tone almost luring her over. Clearly this boy was lonely.

Despite herself, Lacey turned her head to face him.

"You look nervous. Come, sit over here!" He exclaimed, patting the patch of grass beside him.

"I…I really shouldn't." The girl insisted quietly, taking a small step closer.

"What's wrong? Fear doesn't suit a pretty girl like you, a smile would look much nicer." He chuckled slightly, his blue eyes fixed on her. "What's your name?"

"It's getting dark, I really should…um…"

"What's your name?" He asked again, his tone firmer this time.

"Lacey..." She replied quickly, glancing behind her at where the lights from the tent were just about visible. Was she really safe?

"Lacey! What a pretty name." The boy's unnerving enthusiasm returned and Lacey felt a shiver run down her spine when he said her name in that excited manner. "I'm Jerome Valeska."

"…You work here?"

"Yeah, my mom's the snake dancer and the circus whore."

"Oh…" Lacey glanced at the ground, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, gorgeous." Jerome grinned and got to his feet. "You've already made my day sneaking back here."

He moved towards Lacey but looked offended when she took a step back. "Hey, don't tell me you're scared."

Lacey shook her head and allowed the red-headed boy to come closer, his body inches from hers. "See, this is better right? Now we're just two people having a nice conversation." He smiled at her, hoping for a response. "So why're you back here on your own?"

While she initially hesitated telling Jerome anything, Lacey quickly realised that he was harmless; if only a little quirky. "I was just…sick of hearing my parents argue. Well, my dad."

"Do they fight a lot?"

His enquiry made Lacey blink in surprise; this complete stranger was taking a genuine interest in her troubles even though they hardly knew anything about each other. Perhaps it would be nice to be able to tell someone about her family life and never see him again after her confession. "My dad does the fighting. My mom just stands there and takes it."

"And what about you?" Jerome asked, furrowing his brow. "Does your dad ever hit you?"

"Not often. But…" Lacey hesitated: was this really an appropriate conversation to share with someone you'd just become acquainted with?

"You can tell me you know." Jerome rolled up his sleeve, revealing several dark bruises and gashes. "I get it. My mom gets angry a lot too."

For the first time, Lacey stared Jerome straight in the eye; her scared brown pools meeting his at last. But instead of telling him about her father, all Lacey could do was hug the red-headed circus boy.

When Jerome felt the girl's arms around him, he instantly responded in the same way, wrapping his arms around her body protectively. She couldn't find the words to explain what her dad was like but it was okay – because Jerome already knew.

Lost in her embrace, Jerome couldn't help but savour every one of his overwhelmed senses: he could smell her sweetness and hear her gentle breathing even if she didn't say a word. Carefully, Jerome brought a hand up to run his fingers through the girl's long brunette hair and, feeling overcome by emotion at having felt tender human contact, he closed his eyes and smiled.

And, to her surprise, Lacey found herself doing the same. She was smiling.

Eventually, Lacey heard her father calling through the crowd and knew that she had to head back out into the artificial bright lights. "How long is the circus here for?" She asked, still smiling slightly.

"A few more weeks I think." Jerome told her, missing Lacey's warmth already. "Why're you asking? Thinking of coming back to visit me, gorgeous?"

To his surprise, Lacey nodded. "I am, actually."

"Well, that's…great." The boy laughed a little too loud. "That's really great!"

Lacey tittered slightly herself, his unusual laugh slightly unsettling – even after the close moment they had just shared. However, it wasn't enough to deter Lacey from coming back; she'd already promised Jerome and herself that she would.

Her father's irritated voice could be heard again. "I should go…" She smiled one last time. "It was nice meeting you, Jerome."

Jerome smiled as he watched Lacey round the corner and disappear out of sight; merging with the rest of the crowd, becoming lost in a sea of idiotic fools. She wouldn't be lost for too long though – she'd promised to come back before the circus headed elsewhere and Jerome knew that he would cling to those words until he saw her pretty face again. He was going to, of course, because she promised.

However, days passed and Jerome still hadn't heard from the girl he was quick to become fascinated with.

"Oh, Lacey. What a funny little thing you are." Jerome laughed to himself as he sat outside his trailer in the same position as he had done when Lacey had first caught his eye. "Promising to visit then not showing up. I can't believe I slipped your mind…"

The same routine continued for the rest of the week, until it was almost time for Haly's Circus to pack up and move on to the next city.

It was only then that Jerome learned the reason behind Lacey's absence. Glancing over a newspaper that had been tossed away, he caught sight of that beautiful name. "Lacey, Lacey…what have you done…" He mumbled to himself, quickly reading the article as if his life depended on it. And he sure was glad that he did.

"Lacey Monroe, patricide." He giggled to himself as he read the word. The combination of the girl and such a horrific crime filled him with glee. While he never knew what Lacey's dad was capable of, it was easy enough for Jerome to guess that whatever he'd done was bad enough for such a timid girl to snap and put an end to his violent ways. In fact, Jerome felt proud of her.

If only he could follow in Lacey Monroe's footsteps and put an end to his own suffering.

But in a year's time, Jerome Valeska would do just that.