An Icy Winter
Batfam x Neglected Mutant! Reader
Bad Days
Warnings: A bit of gun/police violence near the end.
Part 1
There are many theories on what happens after death. Many of them believe that there is something over the great beyond, a heaven, a hell, and something in-between. That there is some kind of reward or punishment for the life you lived. Is it a reward to die and be detached from the life you once knew? Or is it the Gods's greatest punishment, that regardless of where you go in the afterlife, you can never go back home?
When you died, there was nothing. No memories, no bright light, just nothing. You were stuck in a black void of emptiness. It was freezing and endless. You were left all alone with only your thoughts to keep you company. Until suddenly a bright light filled your vision, but you didn't see pearly gates or hell flames. It was fluorescent lights from a hospital room. Before you could even think of what to do, something or someone pushed you forward.
There were so many faces, faces you had never seen before. It was so difficult to understand what was going on. You were so small, and the pain from your death overwhelmed you. Time moved oh so quickly.
For a while, nothing seemed real to you. You had a life, and it was most certainly not this. Your home wasn’t a big Gothic mansion. You didn’t have a butler to serve you. Gotham doesn’t exist. There shouldn't be a Batman. Well, any superheroes for that matter didn't, and shouldn't, exist. None of this is real.
What's even worse is you were all alone; you couldn't find any of your family or friends. There was a man who claimed to be your dad, but you hardly saw him, and he wasn't YOUR dad. He was a stranger to you.
Where are the people you love?
This can’t be real
The faces you remember.
Why is it harder to remember?
Where did everyone go?
Why is this happening?
You determined that this place was hell, and you hoped to move on quickly from this nightmare. This theory of yours came crashing down when you were five years old.
One afternoon, the butler took you to this room after lunch. The man who claimed to be your father was there with this young boy. He looked so familiar. They introduced you to this boy, who turned out to be his new ward. This ward had just lost everything, and so this generous stranger father had to take him in to give him a new path that wouldn't lead him down darkness so that he wouldn’t turn out like him. This ward's name was 'Richard Grayson.’
Richard didn’t sound right to you. That’s not what he prefers to be called. It was the flying Grayson. No, that’s not a name. Nightwing? No, it’s too early. Robin? But he wasn’t in the right clothes.
“Dick,” pop out of your mouth.
The three men froze and looked at you in bewilderment.
“No, little one, it’s Richard. Rich—ard.” The butler tried to correct you.
“Dick,” you now said while pointing at the young boy.
The butler started lightly scolding you and trying to figure out where you learned that word. Your father. The stranger and his ward were both attempting to hold in laughter. The conversation had continued, but at that point you were no longer listening.
Slowly you were making connections. Pieces that were mismatching are now finally connecting.
Batman was real and in front of you.
You would never go home again.
This world is real.
Everybody, everything you knew was gone and gone forever.
These people were real.
You don’t want any of this; you would rather not be here. You want to go home.
And you had died only to be reborn here all alone.
There would be no waking from this nightmare.
Tears fell down your face as this realization hit you. The people around you were saying something, but you couldn’t hear them. The butler, or Alfred as you remember, brought you to bed. He thought that maybe it was all a bit much for you and naptime would solve it. It was all too much for you in this tiny body, but not in any way he could believe.
As soon as Alfred closed the door, you had gotten back up. If you were going to survive this world, you would need to make sure you had every little thing about this fictional world down. Memories are quick to disappear, and you couldn’t let everything you once knew be forgotten. You grab every paper and journal you can find. The pages quickly became full of your old life and every bit of information you could remember. When you were done, you hid them in a shoebox. Your plan was to keep this hidden and only look when absolutely necessary. In the wrong hands, this could destroy everything. People could get hurt. In your hands, you could use your information to save people, to save heroes. You could be useful to this family, to Batman. Nobody has to die in this universe.
Time continued forward. Slowly you warmed up to the idea of these people as your family. That just maybe you have a spot here. Bruce became more active in your life, and your older brother Dick was always so helpful. Being reborn as a billionaire’s kid was not a bad set of hands you’ve been dealt with. You could have ended up in much worse places, especially in a universe like this one. Not to mention you lived with the Batman and Robin. You knew so much about them and their stories. They were your heroes, and now you could be their family. You could be a hero yourself. What about your old family? Will you forget them? They haven’t told you yet about their nightly activities, but they will one day, right? When they do, you can help. You will save people, change some of their fates. Make it so they don’t have to go through as many hardships.
Jason entered the family when you were about 9, and for a short two years, everything was perfect. You had a family. You had a father, two older brothers, and a grandpa butler who cared for you. While yes, they still were hiding things from you, they still cared. They were heroes after all, so of course they would care about you. You were so young at that moment, but when they think you’re ready, they’ll tell you everything. They wouldn’t hide it from you forever, right? All good things must come to an end.
XX - XX - 2013
It was a rainy day like any normal day in Gotham, with no thunder, thankfully. You had taken a spot in the library, passing the time by reading a book. Jason walked in with a cup of tea. Slight bags rested under his eyes. He was very tiny to you. He looked a lot better than when he first got here, but he was smaller than you had ever imagined him to be. It was difficult to imagine this tiny boy beating up guys twice his size. Not a word was passed between you two until he handed you the cup.
“It’s from Alfred. Wanted to make sure you stayed warm.”
“Thanks.”
Jason fidgeted with his hands as he watched you take a sip. Something was on his mind, something he wanted to say. He was always a bit nervous around you. Tried so hard to not say the wrong thing. Tried so hard not to disappoint Batman.
“I…um… I’m going to be gone for the weekend.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t say, but when I get back, there’s something I want to tell you. Something I think you deserved to know.”
A slight smile escapes your lips; you’ve been waiting for this, waiting to be fully let into the family. You never thought it would be Jason telling you, but it’s better than being kept in the dark. His tiredness worried you slightly. It couldn’t be that time yet…right? No, it’s supposed to happen when he’s 15, after a couple of years of being Robin.
“You promise to be safe?” You couldn’t help but worry about him before every mission.
“Of course. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. Your brother is super strong.”
He flexes his tiny bicep at you, and you can't help but laugh at him. His smile widens at you; he always loved making you laugh. The moment is ruined when Dick calls for Jason down the hallway.
“I have to go, but I'll be back, okay? I promise.”
“Okay, I’ll hold you to that. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Jason waves goodbye as he leaves the library. The mansion was colder when he left, and that warmth never really came back.
The weekend passed by, and they still hadn’t returned. Every chance you got, you waited by the front door. The days turned into weeks. Until on another painful rainy day, they were back.
You were doodling when Bruce and Dick walked through the front door. Both were soaked to the bone. The mansion was silent except for the squeaking of their boots.
“Where’s Jason?” You quietly ask. No, you had time.
Bruce looked right past you. Did he not hear you?
“Guys, this isn’t funny. Where is he?” You said it louder. Bruce froze. It couldn’t be. You're wrong; you had to be.
“Gone.” That was all Bruce would tell you.
No
NO
NO
not again
Please don’t leave me here alone.
Why now? Why didn’t you have more time? You should have had more time.
If you could, you would go back to that moment in the library. You would have held onto him and never let go. Would have begged him to stay home, to stay with you. How could you have known that this version of him died so quickly after becoming Robin? But you knew he was going to die. You could have said something or stopped him or anything. You could have saved him. It’s your fault that he’s dead. How could you lose another family member?
Everything changed with his death. You hardly saw Bruce and Dick when they got back. For a while, nobody said anything, but you knew what happened. They wouldn’t even tell you how Jason died, just that he’s gone and never coming back. Just like everyone else you knew. Why won’t they tell you anything? Were you not family to them? Were you ever family or just a burden to take care of?
You got your answer when Alfred told you that you were being sent to a boarding school in a different state a month after Jason’s funeral. Hearing that you decided you wouldn’t be their burden anymore. Your family is gone. You held in your feelings; how could you cry when you could have stopped this, could have changed this outcome? It’s all your fault.
Your decision was only cemented more when neither Bruce nor Dick said goodbye to you, and Alfred could hardly say a word as he dropped you off at the airport.
You never made it to that school. Truly, you were planning to. Alas, fate wasn’t done with you yet.
Those bottled-up feelings you had from all this finally burst as you left the airport and waited at pickup. Mentally, you may have been much older, but physically you were a child. A child who had lost everything, more than anyone could imagine. A child who just wanted to be held and told that it wasn’t your fault, that everything will be okay. At first it was silent tears that couldn’t help but get worse as you got lost in your thoughts.
Why are you here?
Why are you alone?
Somebody else would have been better.
The tears turned into sobs.
Somebody else would have been loved
Would have been told the truth
The weather was getting colder around you.
Would have saved Jason
People around you were whispering.
You don’t belong here
Cameras were being taken out.
It’s your fault this is happening.
“Hey! You need to stop what you’re doing and put your hands up.” A police officer yelled at you with a gun in his hands.
“Are you talking to me?” You choke out. Your voice sounded different, sounded colder. When you look down, your body is covered in ice, and there is a good five-foot circle of frost around you.
“Yes. You need to stop and put your hands up. I can and will use force if necessary.”
An audience had built around you. People were whispering louder, camera flashes were going off, and you couldn’t turn off your newfound ability. Panic now rises within you. It was getting harder to breathe. Tears clouded your vision.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do. Please help me.” You move forward, and the crowd gasps while moving away from you.
“Stay back.” The cop raises his gun higher, finger resting on the trigger. You raised your hands.
“Please. Please, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing.” Your voice cracks as you try to talk. Sobs were happening between every other word.
People looked terrified of you. Terrified of an 11-year-old child who only wanted to go home, who wanted their loved ones. They couldn’t see that child anymore; they only saw a mutant. A mutant with powers that could hurt them.
“This is your last warning.” Before you could respond, they pulled the trigger.
The bullet cracks the edge of your stomach and bounces right off. Only to then hit somebody in the crowd. Screams filled the air, and people started running. In the commotion, you took this chance to run, leaving behind your frozen items.
You ran for what seemed like hours and finally stopped in an alleyway. You didn’t know what to do. Furthermore, you were hurt, and you had no money, no food, no clothes, and what's worse is your ice still wasn’t turning off. Maybe you could find a phone to borrow, but would you even be able to hold it? Would anybody answer? The ice broke the clothes you were wearing, so how can you even hold a phone in this condition?
You sat next to the dumpster. Pain was shooting through your body. Perhaps this was all meant to happen. Jason’s fate couldn’t be changed, and you never belonged with that family in the first place. You were an anomaly, an unknown factor in this universe. Would the universe really allow you to mess around with its fixed fates?
A door slammed open on the other side of the dumpster. Some people were thrown out, but you couldn’t see. You didn’t want to see, didn’t want to risk being seen.
“And stay out of here.” The door slams shut. You put a hand over your mouth and tried to stay as close to the wall as possible. They weren’t leaving.
“You couldn’t have been less obvious, cajun.” The voice was rough but familiar in a way.
“How was I supposed to know the guy had x-ray vision?” This other voice had an accent that you could almost place.
“Well, you shouldn’t have hidden cards in your sleeve. Can’t you count cards or something?”
“Counting cards is so much harder than moving some cards around. Besides, you worsened it by punching that guy.”
“They started it!”
You need help; that much is obvious, but would they do anything? Your memories seemed so far away, but you know these voices somehow. You decided to take a chance and peek around the dumpster. Your eyes landed on a short man who had moved in front of you. The guy had a brown leather jacket with fur on the top, and his hair stood up like devil horns.
“What are you doing over here, bub?” While his voice was still rough, it had a softness to it. He was kneeling on the ground so he could meet your eyes better. You knew him, but how? He didn’t seem like a bad guy at the very least.
“I’m sorry. I don't know where I’m at. A cop shot me, and I ran and ran until I got here. I don’t know what to do.” You started rambling off your story, and your tears threatened to fall down again. The man's face turns into a scowl.
“Logan, you’re going to scare the poor kid.” The other voice popped around and knelt beside you. His striking red hair with red eyes to match stood out to you. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe with us. I’m Remy. Logan over here may look angry, but I promise he’s a real sweetheart underneath.”
“Shut it, cajun.” Logan grabbed some tissues from his pockets and tried to hand them to you. As soon as your hand touched the tissue, it turned into ice.
“Oh wow, let’s see if we can figure this situation out first. Any way you can turn it off?”
“No, I don’t know how.”
“When your ability started, was there anything that triggered it?” Remy's voice stayed low and soft.
“I was just sad, lost in my thoughts. Then suddenly I was being yelled at, and ice was everywhere.”
“Okay, so if sadness was your trigger, then maybe a happy memory could reverse this. Do you have a good memory you could latch onto? Or possibly a friend or family member who made you happy?”
“My brother made me happy.”
“Great then-”
“But he’s gone now.” Everybody was gone, you thought. Tears started to fall again.
“No, please don’t cry, chère.” Remy's eyes went big.
“Don’t listen to Remy. He’s an idiot.”
“Hey! I’m trying to help here.”
“Focus on where you’re at. Think about who you are and what you look like.” Logan took over, his eyes completely focused on you. “What can you hear?”
“The passing cars.”
Who you are is a good question.
You’re not a Wayne.
“Good. What can you see?”
“The alleyway, the dumpster, you, Remy.”
You’re not the old you, not anymore.
“What can you feel?”
“The concrete. It’s cold and gross.”
You’re just you.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“It’s (y/n).”
And always will be.
“Got a last name?” Logan wrapped his jacket around you and zipped it up.
“No.” You didn’t hesitate.
“Well then (y/n), let’s get you patched up. Then get you some clothes and food. There’s this school not far from here, where we can get that for you.”
“And there are plenty of rooms for you, so you can take a moment to rest.” Remy chimed in.
“Is it alright if I carry you to my car?” Logan held out his hands. As you reach out, you notice your hands are no longer covered in ice. You didn’t even realize it turned off. You simply nodded back at Logan. Now that you have a clearer head, you can tell that you're running out of steam, and so can they.
He carefully picks you up, trying his best not to put pressure on your stomach. The ice seemed to block most of the damage. What’s left now is a big purple bruise and a lot of pain.
“It wasn’t your fault, bud. People get terrified of things they don’t understand.” Logan puts you down in the backseat of a black pickup truck. “You’ll be safe at the school.”
“How long can I stay at this school?” Your voice was quiet, almost scared of the answer.
“As long as you need to.” Logan squeezed your shoulder before closing the door.
Exhaustion quickly hits you. Your eyes dipped as the car was turned on, and you quickly fell asleep. For a moment you could rest. For a moment the weight of the world isn’t on your shoulders. But time will continue moving forward. This world isn’t done with you yet.
…
Haven't written in a while, but this has been in my drafts for a hot moment. I really like isekai stories, but I feel like a lot of them don’t go into the trauma of dying. I plan to show more of that, but this was getting a bit long. I don’t have a full plan for this right now, but I have ideas of where I want to go. I won’t stay too long in the child phase, as I don’t particularly care for those phases, but I do plan to do some flashbacks. Anyway, here is a little bonus thing.
Bonus -
1 unread email ~
Subject Line: Regarding Your Child’s Enrollment Here
Dear Mr. Wayne.
We have been informed of an incident that took place at the airport with your child.
Your child used their mutant abilities to terrify people at the airport. A lawful police officer tried to stop them, but they got away. Authorities are still trying to locate them.
Due to this and due to our no mutant policy, we are withdrawing your child from this school, nor will they be allowed to attend any schools in our district. If your child does show up here, we will get the proper authorities involved.
We’re sorry if this causes any inconvenience and wish you the best of luck with your child.
Best wishes,
Superintendent Smith
Are you sure you want to delete all unread emails? ~
All unread emails deleted. ~
