EYES WITHOUT A FACE- CHAPTER I
>>PROLOGUE<<
BATFAMILY X NEGLECTED!SUPERHERO! READER
Summary: The reader is the biological daughter of Bruce Wayne and gets neglected by the family, then she gets replaced and imitated. She has superpowers and goes by the superhero name Atomic. This is a series and still a WIP.
Word count:4.9k
Warnings: Obscene Language, Arson, Neglect, Bullying, brief moral dilemma, You nearly die, MC jumps off of buildings for dopamine, Crime, Fake Deaths, Identity theft, Canon typical violence, Damian,
Author's note: I won't be writing another until next week Friday or Saturday so I decided to create this. Please send feedback, my comments are open now because they weren't previously, send asks, ask questions, criticise, give feedback. Don't be afraid. Divider's from @digilatte and the header is from @aracnista go check them out, they have cool stuff.
There are two major events in your life that you believe were for the best. The first is gaining your powers, and the second is being shipped off to boarding school.
You’re aware that your family did this to prevent you from finding out their ‘secret’ as per Evelyn’s suggestion. Evelyn. You absolutely despise her; she comes in as a spy and just imitates you, and your family goes on to accept her with open arms. She strived to replace you. Replace you… Could you even say that? That she replaced you? To be replaced would insinuate that you had a place to begin with. You never held a place in this family. You’ve never even held a solid conversation with anyone other than Alfred, and during your last days at the manor before boarding school, you began to distance yourself from him. The vision of him not believing you creating a wedge between you two. It concerned him, but he thought it was you being anxious about the change.
That was totally incorrect; you were excited for the change. Bruce should’ve sent you away sooner. You are thriving here. You’ve already made some friends and you’re a part of the physics club, debate team, student council, and theatre club. You love it here. Although when the lights go out and curfew is set, you start your patrol rounds. It’s a pretty manageable schedule. Due to your powers, sleep isn’t something you need a lot of. You can sleep for three hours and feel peachy afterwards; it’s water that you need most.
Your powers, where do you even begin? You’re not entirely sure what type of powers you have. You know that you possess telekinesis, telepathy, ergokinesis, technopathy, and a very limited chronokinesis that has recently made an appearance. You’ve come to realise that although you have these wonderful powers, you’ll never have a painless head ever again. You get constant migraines, and that’s why you drink so much water. Excessive use of your powers leads to increased strain on your brain, but with training, you can prevent these pains from coming so soon.
Being Atomic has been eventful. Especially with the position you’re currently in. Army crawling through a dirty vent, eavesdropping on a crime boss’ conversation at midnight. Now, you could’ve simply manipulated light and photons to make yourself invisible and be in the room with them, or heck even project an illusion that you weren’t there, but you had a feeling that they had motion sensors in there, and if you were to disable them, it would cause a commotion, preventing you from getting the information you need. You know they don’t have them in the vents, and you’re being incredibly quiet, cleaning as you go. You’re by the opening of one of the vents. This is an old building, but the security system they’re using is top-notch high-end stuff. This is a meeting spot, but for whom? You listen in as the baritone voice booms below you.
“What the hell do you mean the ship got blown up?!” the man yells out in rage. You recognise that voice. That’s Homer Verone. A malignant tumour that had been killing your city. Making her ill with corruption and injustice. You thought he had died, at least that’s what the news had claimed, but alas, it seemed to be a ploy, but…for what? He isn’t running from someone, is he?
“Sir, I don’t know what happened. Th- They told me that Atomic-” The stuttering henchman paused to duck as a seething Verone flung a chair at him and growled. You remember that. You had gotten a lead that there would be a smuggle ship going through the port. You arrived and made it go boom. You managed to clean the waters, thankfully. You did it to see whose feathers it would ruffle.
“Atomic?! ATOMIC!? How many times have I told you to get RID of that meddling piece of shit? Huh? HUH?!” Verone raged on. Yeah, you and him go way back. You busted his trafficking ring four years ago, and all his other rings. He’s marked you as enemy number one, going as far as to put a bounty on your head, but it's never worked. You’re too slippery, too skilled. You’ve absorbed the knowledge of all those skilled assassins, though, so it’s practically educational at this point.
You look down the vent and see him. From where you’re positioned, he looks small, almost non-lethal. Quite misleading, in your opinion. Homer Verone is everything but non-lethal. He reminds you of a wild cane corso that has achieved peak insanity. Homer has pitch black hair, which he keeps slicked back with gel. He looms over others with his tall, bulky frame. He’s a veteran. You know he is, he hates the sound of bombs and hates that camouflage colour. He also constantly compares his crime-lording present to his soldier past. His face is littered with small scars from over the years, with a scar that starts from his ear to the corner of his lip, truly stealing the show. His eyes are a dark brown, hardened from decades of crime, war, hardships and violence.
Five months ago, Homer Verone was supposedly involved in a hotel bombing resulting in the loss of his own life. His funeral took place the week after; all his henchfolk attended. It seemed like the end of an era. You had a feeling, though. You didn’t feel Verone die. You’ve read his mind before, creating a tether. When he supposedly died, that tether was supposed to break, but you still felt him. Like a thread linking you two. He didn’t die, and you knew Verone. Verone wasn’t a coward, sure, he’d run away from the law, but he wouldn’t go through these lengths to achieve it.
When you saw one of his trusted henchfolk while patrolling, you knew you had to follow him. That led you to here, the dusty vents of an “abandoned” safehouse.
You put two fingers to your temple and close your eyes.
“What are you running from, Verone?” You search his mind, and there’s a meeting with a cloaked figure in a mask.
“You have two months.” The figure states in a monotone voice. You feel Verone’s fear engulf him instantaneously. You search his mind for more. Apparently, it's a drug war, but it seems more than that. You get nothing. Who is that cloaked figure?
Your eyes snap back open, faintly glowing. Something’s telling you that this is more than some drug war. You’ve seen Verone be calm while being shot at, remain apathetic while being bombed, keep an indifferent demeanour when crime bosses threatened him and started wars with him. There’s more to this. You will find out, and you will find out who that cloaked figure is.
You decide that’s enough patrolling, it’s been a slow night anyway, and you got the confirmation that Verone’s alive.
You need to feel some sort of rush; tomorrow is the last day of school before spring break. You won’t be doing much, maybe helping with some lab clean-up or hanging with a friend. Teleporting to the nearest high building, you sprint towards the edge, do a front flip and jump off.
“YAHOOOO!” you scream as giddy laughter escapes you while you perform a sequence of somersaults and teleport to your room mid-free fall. The feeling is spectacular as you see the burst of blues and violets surround you in stripes for the few seconds you fall through space before you land on your bed. You change out of your suit and into pyjamas. God, you love a good adrenaline rush.
As you sit down on your bed thinking about Verone, your gaze drifts around your room, and you notice something under your door. It’s an envelope, you pick it up and see that it's a letter from Evelyn.
“What the hell does she want?”
You opened the letter. You read it. God, you felt sick. Why?!
Dear Y/N,
Heyy!! I hope you’re doing okay at that smart school or whatever it's called. We know you have break coming up and gosh you are SO LUCKY, you get break two days earlier than us. I miss you and was hoping you’d come back home for the break. We miss you, especially Alfred. Please come over. We’re picking you up in two days.
Who does this two-faced broad think she is?? You already had plans for the break. You were going to stay with some close friends. Man, you can’t have shit in this house, you weren’t even in said house. You really hate this family. You stared at the envelope and saw that there were pictures inside. What did you do in your past life to warrant this? Seriously, you need to know. Were you a criminal? A corrupt politician? A terrible spouse? An unethical businessman? You picked up the pictures, which were held together by a rubber band. There were pictures of Evelyn and the family. Christmas, Birthdays, Hangouts. You let out a frustrating sigh, then raise the pictures using your telekinesis. You stare at them for a moment, almost as if you’re examining them, and you rotate them for a few moments, then you close your eyes for what seems like hours and open them to let out an optic beam of blue heat energy. The pictures turn to nothing. The ashes fall to the ground. You stare at the remains, the pure disgust in your eyes evident, and teleport the ashes outside. You take the letter and repeat the same process.
“That was quite cathartic, I must say,” You chirp with enthusiasm, after your mini burning session. You did put a barrier around yourself so that the fire alarm wouldn’t start up. You go back to the warm comfort of your bed and lie down. Before you know it, you’re out like a light.
You woke up to the annoying sound of your alarm clock and started getting ready for the day, since it was the last day of school, classes were cancelled. You picked out an outfit. Read a book, looked at some cases, meditated and practiced your chronokinesis. It was soon 1 pm. You weren’t really planning on doing much; maybe you should hang out with a friend. Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad. Right on cue, your door knocks. You sense him instantly. Alexander Galanis. Head of the school paper, Captain of the photography club and your best friend.
His father is some major oil tycoon who has helicopter parenting tendencies. You and he met when you first joined Newton Academy. He was assigned as your welcome “buddy”. Both of you shared a love for comics, video games, books, superheroes, and so much more. It wasn’t hard to click with him.
“Guess who’s interview with Atomic landed them an internship at the Daily Planet?” Did you also mention the fact that he was one of the few people who knew your secret identity? How he found out was completely by pure luck. You were reckless and used your telekinesis while your door was unlocked. He walked into your dorm and saw it, and well, he pieced it together. The fact that you went to bed early, had constant headaches, and always seemed to be “out” at the same time that Atomic was seen.
“That’s great, man. Glad I was able to help!” You laughed as he practically skipped alongside you. You two made it to the common room, and there was a crowd around the TV.
“Whatever you’re all watching can’t be that good…” You muttered to the mob.
“Uhm, look at this.” A voice from the group exclaimed as the group made way for you and Xander.
You gasped at the sight before you. Central Park. It’s burning.
“What the hell am I looking at?”
“A masked guy came in and started burning everything. The fire can’t be extinguished; it’s been burning for hours.” The guy beside you, who you recognise as Daniel, explains with a fearful tone.
Alexander clears his throat and gives you a knowing look. “Y/N, didn’t you say you needed to pack today for your trip back to Gotham?”
“Yes, I did say that, actually. I should probably start now so I don’t stress about it tonight or something.” You briskly walk out of the common room and into your room. You teleport to the scene, also changed into your hero suit. You stare at the raging flames with weariness. The accelerant for this is new. You have never smelled this scent before. You sense some people still in the park; you teleport them to safety. Through all this, there is one thought echoing in your mind.
“Who the hell did this?”
You sensed someone, but you couldn’t see them. You activated your energy vision, and sure enough, there’s your guy. His silhouette just screamed ominous villain; he stood with the flames as if he were one with them. He didn’t have a build that significant, not like Verone’s; in fact, you could tell he was on the smaller side, his height making him appear more lanky than intimidating. He wore a cloak and his hands were behind his back, as if he were waiting for your arrival. Yet he exuded an emanation of pure, unadulterated evil. It felt like being in the presence of the Joker, but no, the Joker didn’t possess this man’s cold nonchalance. He also wasn’t nearly as quiet; it disturbed you.
He was burning down a landmark and treating it as if it were a normal occurrence, like he was out mowing his lawn and not committing an act of terrorism against your city.
“Who are you?!” You shouted while you swiftly got to work on extracting the oxygen from the fire. If you could deprive the flames of oxygen, they would die out. He simply stared at you. You used your telekinesis to restrain him.
“You don’t have to worry about who I am, Atomic” Yeah, this was freaking you out, you decided to go into his mind.
“Let’s see who this guy really-”
“URGH AHHHH” You clutched your head and felt your knees buckle.
“I told you. You. Don’t. Have. To. Worry. About. Who I am.”
“What you need to worry about is…The Bridge and The City,” The tone he was using was making you greatly uneasy.
“The same illustrious fire you just gazed upon is going to reappear in those same places after I set off this bomb. Now, the bridge is where those little ruffians ran off to. I know it is. I told them to go there. Then we have the city, I just put the bombs. It’s my fault. Unless you can save them…Let’s see your skills and perhaps….your…morality” You stared at him, the fear present in your eyes. What is this guy’s reason for this?
You suddenly heard two booms.
That doesn’t sound good.
The sound of screams piercing your eardrums. That all too familiar metallic scent. Blood.
You instantly teleported the kids somewhere safe, the large number of them causing that familiar feeling of strain again. You teleported to the city and instantly tried to deprive the flames of oxygen while teleporting civilians. You had it all under control until you saw multiple cloaked figures creating falling debris. You saw a woman about to perish, and you created a barrier to shield you both. Your eyes glowed, but your senses dulled. You were straining. You looked at the woman and started molecular reconstructing her. She isn’t going home with these bruises. She was barely breathing, but she uttered a sentence.
“My…son..save…my…son”
You focused your telepathy and hearing, and you heard a kid. You looked behind you, and as there was debris falling, you noticed the child; he couldn't be any older than ten. Just then, the cloaked devils threw bigger chunks of debris. You strengthened your shield while making sure this woman stays alive, but god, it felt as if your brain was being split open and squeezed. You saw the debris fall, and it tried going near him, then one came too close. You’re doing molecular reconstruction, strengthening a barrier, all while teleporting civilians and still reeling from the stunt Mr Spooks pulled back there.
You would severely harm yourself if you did anything more brash. You decide to hang on for a while longer. The world begins to spin around you. You still focus, you look at the debris falling, and flex your fingers. The debris stops midair.
“It actually worked.” You think weakly, as you turn the block into thin air with the flick of a wrist.
You’re losing consciousness. The world is slowly becoming bedecked with little black specks as you sway. You hear voices, and the next thing you know, you’re being hauled over someone’s shoulder.
“You’re alright, kid” You know that voice. You know you’re in safe hands, so you let yourself pass out.
When you wake up, you see that you’re out of your hero suit, have a blanket on you with an ice pack on your head and have two children staring down at you with the cheekiest grins known to man. You let your lips curl into a smile. Funny how even when you managed to escape the clutches of death, your spirits can still be lifted at the sight of your favourite people.
A family. One that you loved.
A family that looks out for one another. A family that is there for one another. A family that cares for one another. A family that is attentive to one another. A family that loves one another, and it was greatly evident that this family loved you.
The Fantastic Four was your family.
“SHE’S AWAKE!!” the children yelled in unison with relief. Val and Franklin Richards were like the little siblings you’ve dreamt of. You helped them train their powers, babysat, took them out to your favourite food joints, played pretend with them, had to scour for them in huge supermarkets and gave them advice.
You sat up and stretched while they hugged you.
“Aw shucks, guys, were you worried about little old me?” You chuckled at the sight of them. You were already fully healed, but god, your head was killing you.
Val hugged you again. While Franklin playfully glared at you. “Little old you nearly became little gone you," he stated with slight fear in his gaze. You ruffled his hair. “I’m not leaving this world anytime soon, Lin. I promise”
Just then, you heard footsteps and saw them. Sue, Reed, Ben, and Johnny.
“You’re awake.” Sue gasped as she handed you a bottle of water and put a hand on your forehead. You smiled as you twisted the cap and gulped down the cool beverage. Mmm lemon. You sighed as you got up.
“You should stay for dinner, kiddo. We’re having your favourite. We can even talk about what plans we have set for your break,” Reed went on with a warm smile.
You then remembered your, well, change in plans.
“Yeah, about that…”
“You’re kidding me”, Johnny sighed, his voice filled with dread after hearing your explanation.
“Trust me, if I were, you’d all be laughing. They want me home, and it’s non-negotiable. You rubbed your eyes; the headache was subsiding, but the pain was still more painful than usual.
“I will stay for dinner, though. I’m not missing out on Sue’s cooking for packing.”
After the dinner, you teleported back to your dorm and set out for the common room. You saw Alexander and the rest of the housemates. Their eyes were puffy and red, and a lot of them were crying.
“What’s the matter?” you questioned Alexander with concern. He wasn’t crying, but his expression was solemn. He looked at you with relief prevalent in his eyes.
“They think that Atomic might be dead,, He answered. You clenched your jaw and turned to see the news. Sure enough, it was you being carried by Thing while practically limp. You looked lifeless.
You stared at Alexander and left the room with him following in tow. Both of you made it to your dorm, you locked it with your mind, and stared at Alexander for what seemed like hours before he spoke
“You did great out there, you know? There were no casualties, and due to you healing the civilians, the injuries weren’t too major either. You should be proud of yourself.”
“It wasn’t my doing; had it not been for the Fantastic Four, I would’ve died, and so would've two others.” You sat down on your bed and put your head in your hands.
“That guy, the one in a cloak, I don’t know if you saw him on the news, but he was so, so evil, Xander.” You continued
“What’s his deal? Did you manage to look into his mind?” He inquired with worry in his eyes.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know, but he seems to have some form of immunity against my telepathy. When I went into his mind, I felt the most powerful stinging sensation in my head. It lingered for hours.” You rambled on while staring at your hands.
“That’s insane?? How? Is he a telepath, too?”
“I..I don’t know Xander. Whoever he is, he’s dangerous.” You messed with a small ball of energy, swirling it around your fingers before making it dissipate.
You and Xander talked for hours until curfew approached. You said your goodbyes and hugged each other.
You were currently in the lobby waiting for your family, or well, Alfred, to pick you up from the academy. Xander was with you, waiting for his father to arrive. You heard voices and saw the approaching figure of Camila Rossi. Your academic rival, you won’t say that you hate each other, she doesn’t go out of her way to treat you awfully, but she isn’t nice to you either. She had puffy eyes.
“You’re still sad about Atomic? It’s not even confirmed that she’s dead.” Xander stared at her, his eyes displaying amusement. He seemed to find it so hilarious that your rival was your biggest fan, too.
“Shut it, Galanis. I’ll feel whatever I damn please.” She retorted with a sniff
“Why do you love Atomic so much anyway? You brink on parasocial with her.” He questioned.
“Because she’s a beacon of hope! She’s a symbol of heroism and vigilantism for me, okay?! She isn’t just some random hero that swoops in and saves the day, no, she’s an inspiration, she’s what all teenagers should strive to be!” She went on, her face turning red.
“So..all teens should be superpowered crime-fighting acrobats…?” Xander trailed off with a slight smirk. You rolled your eyes. What the hell, Xander? He loved doing this, loved riling up Camila for the sake of it, that is, if she wasn’t doing it to him. This is the norm.
You elbowed him. “Maybe we shouldn’t poke fun at someone who may be grieving their idol-” You started.
“Hush it, Wayne.” Welp, you tried.
“You wanna know what all teens should be? They should be considerate, compassionate, disciplined and empathetic. Do YOU know the drive it takes to wake up every day, live a normal life and do things like saving others? Do you know the special type of person you have to be to even dedicate your life to that?? It’s different when you’re some grown-up in a suit, but Atomic isn’t. She’s missing out on her teenage life and youth to save others? Isn’t that amazing? How selfless can one be to make such a sacrifice? How golden can your heart be? To risk your life every day for strangers, expecting nothing in return! You don’t have to be a superpowered crime-fighting acrobat to be a hero and create change. You could be compassionate, selfless, empathetic, and generous. That’s what Atomic stands for. That’s what we should strive to become every day, from the moment we open our eyes first thing in the morning to the moment we close them for rest at night, until we open them again, hoping we do better than we did the previous day.” She finished as she had tears rolling down her face, her eyes staring at Xander and you with determination and sadness.
“Camila, come here..” She walked towards you, and you embraced her.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, she’s my hero and I just want her to be okay.” You held her as she wept into your shoulder.
“She will, I promise you she will.” You rubbed her back. There was a car honk outside, and Xander stood up.
“That’s my ride..Camila, I’m so sorry...” he apologised with genuine regret and awkwardness. He did not know she felt that passionately about you, or, more so, Atomic.
“Shut it, Galanis.”
“Okay.” He walked out quickly, while some guards went to pick up his luggage.
You saw a familiar black town car outside as well. With Alfred in there.
You pulled away as Camila sniffled a bit more.
“My ride is here too. Call me if you need to talk. I know you have my number and email.” You laid your hand on her shoulder before walking away and meeting Alfred outside while the guards brought your luggage.
“Master Y/N, it’s been so long. My dear, you’ve grown!” He exclaimed with fondness as he opened the car door for you.
“Nice to see you too, Alfred.” You got in with a smile.
The drive back to the manor was quiet and long. You found yourself engrossed in a comic the whole time. The art style was spectacular, yeah, you were definitely using the poses for references later. Before you knew it, you were in front of Wayne Manor.
You do not miss this place. The daunting gothic structure has not changed, the intense fog surrounds it. You feel like you’re in the beginning of a John Craven movie. This is horror. Meeting people you dislike is scarier than facing anything. You let out a chuckle at your joke and walk towards the front door.
It opens, and lo and behold. She’s at the door, staring at you with the fakest smile known to man. Evelyn.
“Oh my god! You’re back,” she leans in for a hug, which prompts you to back away.
“I don’t like hugs.”
“Oh, you’re so silly!” You walk past her and try to make a beeline for your room.
You see Damian there. He stares at you with disdain. Oh no, not this again.
“Well, would you look at that, the family’s embarrassment has come over.” He says with the widest grin you’ve seen. This kid actually takes joy in trying to hurt you; it’s so strange, and he’s supposed to be Robin, the light to Batman’s darkness? Please.
You ignore him and keep walking. That does not deter the monstrous brat.
“You know, I am Father’s legacy, his heir, his true child.” You roll your eyes. Why is he acting as if you even want the old bat’s legacy? You have your own, and you would rather continue your real father’s legacy. You keep walking. He keeps talking..
“You can avoid it as long as you want. So long as you know your place, your pathetic stepfather and harlot of a mother are nothing, and it seems that you’ve acquired that trait.” That makes you stop dead in your tracks. What did he just call your parents? Perhaps your enhanced hearing didn’t catch his clear tone. You slowly turn your head.
“Repeat that.” You order.
“What? Are you deaf? I said that your pathetic stepfather and harlot are nothing. Just like you.”
The visceral rage that consumes your person and clouds your mind leads to you wanting, no, needing to teach this brat a lesson. One he shall not forget.
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“Wel-” Damian doesn’t get to finish that hateful sentence, because you’re already moving. Fast. He doesn’t even register it. You sprint towards him, grab him by his throat and pin him to the wall. The impact knocking the air out of him. You lift him to eye level.
“I don’t know what lobotomy you underwent as an infant to ever believe that I would want Bruce’s stupid legacy or that it is okay to speak to someone like that. Do you know who my stepfather was? Regis Reindorf, one of the greatest businessmen and engineers to have ever lived. He came from nothing, he built himself up with nothing but his brain, his faith and his determination. Your daddy dearest was born into the very thing my “pathetic” stepfather forged for himself. The difference between him and Bruce is clear. My father worked for what he got and was actually skilled in his field. His company still runs laps around Wayne Enterprises. Bruce plays CEO when we know it’s Lucius who deals with all the matters, and everything special about him was handed to him. Just like you, and the pathetic part about it is that you’re proud of it and think I want it. I’d rather have the legacy of a hardworking, noble and honourable man over a wino partying sleaze any day. Next is my mother. I won’t say much about her, but I will say this. The only reason why I’m in this godforsaken prison disguised as a “home” is because she died. Yours dropped you off here and never came back, and she was no harlot. Who’s nothing now, brat?” You sneer at him with anger. You were careful to not reveal the fact that you knew about the double life. He’s stunned. This is probably the most expressive he’s seen you, and why is your grip so strong?
You drop him and walk off, seething.
This was gonna be a long break.
>>NEXT<<
