There's a part in the speedpaint that looks like I was having a stroke or something lol- I'll probably post that after it uploads like 30 minutes later... ibis paint why do you hate me 😭
Summary: When your mother’s double life finally catches up to her, you end up in the care of your idol. However, not everything goes as planned in this family.
(Not a necessary read but establishing background!)
(I added way more to it, lol)
next
Prologue: I wish I never met you..
Bruce Wayne… a role model, philanthropist, rich beyond his means. He was everything I wanted to be. I grew up thinking that this man, this guy was an inspiration. His parents died right in front of him, and he makes sure that no kid goes through what he went through. Not only did this man survive Gotham, but he also saved it. Hell, he rules Gotham. He couldn’t be any more perfect, right?
They always say to never meet your heroes; you put them in a pedestal too high that they will never be able to reach your expectations. I never wanted to meet Bruce, I didn’t want to ruin the image of him that I had in my head. Of the kind, caring man that he would be; the kind of father I have always wanted.
It was has always been me and mama. She took shit from no one and gave her all so we could live without want. I never thought I would miss the days we spent at the food pantry or riding the bus together. She made everything we did fun. I don’t think I can remember a day we weren’t laughing together. I never thought it would end the way it did. And that meeting Bruce Wayne would be the worst thing to ever happen to me, but it was.
—————————————————————————
5 years ago…
It’s been a half a decade since that day, and I can remember almost every detail about it. Mama planned a whole day for us to do together; we took a boat over to Metropolis and went to the aquarium, the pier, this huge arcade center where she won me this derpy looking bootleg of a black cat, it is my favorite toy… The day was perfect. Until we went to visit the Hall of Justice.
It’s stupid I know, going to the hall of justice is such a gimmick; such a tourist trap. But I was always jealous of the kids who bragged about visiting the hall and getting to meet the Flash or Superman; I just wanted to meet a hero. After begging and pleading for what felt like hours, she relented and we went off. I had never been so happy; I loved looking at the architecture and cool trophies from their battles. Everything in that hall told a story, and I couldn’t be more excited.
What I didn’t notice was my mother nearly having a stroke after stepping into the building. She was fucking petrified and I couldn’t have cared less; I was so up my own ass I couldn’t see my own mother struggling. I understand her fear now. Bringing her there was like bringing meat to a pack of rapid wolves.
Would she have told me, even if I was too young, what could I have done? I can barely comprehend how she could have hidden this from me my entire life, and that’s not even the worst of it!
No, the worst of it was when my mother was confronted by a certain bat hero once we were about to leave the hall. I was so enthralled by him that it didn’t even register with me that he was actively threatening my mother. I started jumping around and asking him questions at the speed of light; but his demeanor never changed. He was rigid, cold, and not very nice. I was nearly out of breath when the Flash appeared and began to talk to me. To me?! The Flash was talking to me! The perfect distraction for a hero obsessed kid. I never knew what they talked about that day, but when we were finally able to leave, my mother looked like she had the whole world on her shoulders. I wish I could’ve helped carry that weight, but I was too small. Too weak.
When we got back home to our dingy apartment, she took a phone call. That was the last thing she did. All night she was stuck on that damn phone call. Even as I told her goodnight. I kept telling myself what if, you know. What if I stayed up? What if I did something that day? Something that would have kept her alive...
Maybe if she wasn't so preoccupied with that call, she could have lived.
————————————————————————
I don't know how she died. I remember the faint stench of blood wafting into the air. The silence. The cold air. I didn’t think a death like that could be so quiet. So instant. I didn't know she was dead until I walked into the kitchen the next morning, found her laying down face first on the ground. I was frozen. I didn't even feel myself fall to ground right next to her. I don't even remember calling the police. I just sat there and looked over her corpse. She must have been so scared...
Everything happened so quickly after that, the investigation, the press, the conspirators. Everyone had a say in what happened to my mother. I wanted nothing more for all of it to end. The pain. The anguish. The crippling loneliness. I wanted to just end it. There was no one left for me here. That's what I believed. Everything came to a halt when Commissioner Gordon explained who my mother really was.
My mother had a life before me as most mothers do. What most mothers didn’t do was become a data broker for the criminal underworld. She had information on just about anyone, and can get you information on whatever you wanted, for a price. This was whole her life until she went dark for a couple years. The police had kept record of all her active up until her death. She became active again a couple weeks before her end. They thought I would have some insight in what she did, but all I knew about her work was as a waitress. It would have been nice to know my mother was one of the most infamous data brokers in the tristate area, but what the hell was I supposed to do? What could I do? What should I do?!
The more Commissioner Gordon tried to explain the more tired I got. I just wanted this all to stop. I didn't think they could surprise me anymore. But then they mentioned a safe. They found it in my mother's closet. Someone clearly tried to pry it open but failed. What they found inside was nothing short of a fucked-up joke. Three things, my birth certificate, a flash drive, and a paternity test. When they told me my father was alive and arriving soon, I think I had a heart attack.
————————————————————————
My mother and I never discussed who my father was because I never really cared to ask. Sure, I was jealous of kids at school with their dads, but that didn't make me love my mom any less. She was both of my parents, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
A sleek black town car arrives at the police station, and out comes the richest man in Gotham, Bruce Wayne. I don't think I spoke or even breathed for what felt like eternity. There he was, on the steps of the station, my dad, my father, my...idol?
Why does he look so angry? Why does he look at me so coldly? Did I do something to upset him? What did I do? All I remember after that was being ushered into the car and watching Bruce and Commissioner Gordon's conversation. I didn't see their faces, I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but I saw their bodies. The tense shoulders balled up fists, and invading personal space. Bruce was angry. Why?
It ended as quickly as it started. Bruce rushed back into the car and sat in the front seat. We haven't said a word to each other since he arrived, and I have no intention in starting a conversation. All I could think about was my mother and why my father could ever hate me.
"...We'll pick up your things tomorrow. You should get some rest."
He steps out of the car and the driver heads to the manor. What in the actual fuck just happened. I couldn't think, breathe, I wanted out, I wanted to leave-! I yelled at the driver to let me out. Screamed, pleaded, begged. We hit a stop light and I booked it. I just ran, and ran, and ran. I didn't know how I got there, but I was back home. Back where it happened. I guess I wasn't the only one either. I hear their voices, Bruce and Gordon. What were they doing here?
"Did you really know the mother? Or was she...you know?"
"Jesus, Gordon. Really?"
"Bruce, you do have quite the track record of-"
"Not another word. This kid just lost their mother; do you have to make this any more uncomfortable?"
"Death is always uncomfortable, and you have the tendency to withhold details of your 'escapades' even if they may help with our investigations."
"Gordon." "Bruce."
"...Her family was well connected and she was the center of it all. Any rumors, reports, theories; everything about anything came across her desk. She helped me out on a few cases. We got close."
"Close enough that-" "That disparaging her, especially now, is out of the question."
"That bad, huh?" "...She makes Talia look like Mother Teresa."
"Holy fuck... And the kid?" "The timeline makes sense, so it could be possible."
"You have doubts? We did find the paternity test, those can't easily be faked."
"Not for the average person. But she was different. Meticulous, smart, and well connected; hell she could have faked her death-!"
"Bruce-!" "You didn't know her like I did, she hid herself so well she had her own kid convinced that she was nothing but-"
"What happened to not disparaging the dead?! Bruce, I am vehemently aware that I have no idea who this woman was, but what I do know is that she was and is the most important person to that kid and you don't have the right to decide whether or not she is worth mourning over. You lost your parents; don't you remember how that feels??"
".... I won't abandon the kid. But I can guarantee they are just like their mother."
"What the hell does that even mean?" "They can't be trusted."
"Bruce-" "I'll write down a full report of what I know about her and send it your way; just let it go."
"Fine."
With that, I hear Gordon approach the front door, and I run out of the building. Maybe they heard me run, maybe they saw me rushing out through the window. Whatever they did next, I don't know. What I do know is that I never want to see his face again. For a slight moment, I thought maybe this could have been the start of something good. Maybe we could have bonded over our memories of my mama, maybe have a proper ceremony, become a real family....
I wish I never met him.
next
A/N: I eat this genre up everytime and thought it was about time I write something. Please be kind this is my first fic, be gentle yall. Anyway posts will be irregular as hell, but this will be continued. Let’s have some fun!
Edit: I have my post on auto and I hadn't finished editing it. It didnt save the first time but I learned my lesson. ALL GOOD YALL
Remembering Bob the Titan- A Solangelo Oneshot-- Out now!
Nico's dreams have shifted to revolve more around a special person; Bob the Titan. He tries to evade his nightmares that are beckoning him by simply not sleeping. Will says no.
Read it from me here on Wattpad:https://www.wattpad.com/story/380527060-remembering-bob-the-titan-a-solangelo-oneshot
Read it from my coauthor emonemo on AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60138640
Bathe in the acidic waters of self-pity, where every setback corrodes resolve. Embrace the solace of surrender, relinquishing aspirations to the void of apathy. Let the echoes of missed opportunities reverberate, sealing fate in the tomb of unfulfilled potential.
