CW: dark themes (a little), moral gray reader, also mention death and social inequality at the beginning.
Please, let me know if I forgot to add a warning.
read to the end to read author’s note.
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⟵prolog next ⟶
"Over here!" you called the man with a hand gesture, pointing to a manhole cover.
That day was no different from any other. Indeed, dark clouds gathered in the sky just the same, covering the city like a blanket. But something prompted you to change your usual, tiresome route. Around the corner, and another, then through the alley again... You always kept track of where you were going and why, but that day there was something... Something that led you to that very spot. To take that alley, to that street.
You never liked that place, and perhaps you weren't the only one. You never avoided it, but sometimes you just didn't want to go there. Occasionally a question popped into your head: "Wouldn't it be better to get rid of this city and build a new one on top of it?" Cruel, some would say, but that path is easier and quicker. Easier for whom, though?
People are hypocrites, you knew that well. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer. No one wants to improve the city, and those who tried... Sometimes good people are flushed out with blood, like water down a toilet. Their bodies are mourned, then forgotten, as if they never existed, leaving behind only stone slabs. The world doesn't stop spinning because of their death. They say death takes good people earlier, not wishing to subject them to the sorrows of the world for one day longer. But in this city, don't people die more often than flies?
Honestly, though, there was one... Sometimes, upon encountering him, drunks would stop drinking for a while:
"I swear, I saw it! A huge bat!"
"You need to stop drinking, buddy."
"No! I was sober!"
"Are you sure?"
"You... you're right..." — you remembered overhearing a conversation between homeless men once.
In general, not many people encountered him. Usually, it was the street crazy, drug addicts, or the same drunks. So their words were hard to trust. Who would believe that some man, two meters tall, would put on a Halloween costume and solve crimes? Or maybe he wasn't even human. Or, perhaps, they were just trying to escape reality, convincing themselves of what was happening. Either way, the legend of the man in the bat costume emerged.
And then, you started hearing about him more and more often until you heard his description from the mouths of the police. It seemed they weren't rushing with this case. You had suspicions then; his targets were always criminals, according to the law enforcement officers. That same day you met the urban legend, saw him beating up teenagers. He didn't particularly hold back.
In your opinion, they deserved it, the kids who tried to rob an old lady, although she didn't have long left. You were watching from nearby. He noticed you. A terrifying, bulky appearance, a mask hiding his face. It gave you chills. A cape obscuring the outlines of his body. To be honest, the overcast weather gave him a bonus aura. He looked like those monsters from fairy tales, or maybe those evil spirits? He watched you, narrowing his eyes, waiting for you to do something, perhaps thinking you were part of this mini-gang of immature kids.
"Are you going to change this city?" — your voice sounded surprisingly loud, echoing off the brick walls. You knew the answer, but for some reason, you decided to ask your question anyway.
"Where are your parents, son?" — In contrast, his voice was quiet. He replied with a question; you clenched your jaw.
"Sometimes, parents leave their children." — He didn't answer. You didn't need an answer, you just left. Not the grand meeting you might have imagined, but you were convinced he was real.
Somehow, you started running into each other more often. But that day, you met a different man. A man with a huge scar on his face. A man whose eyes were filled with sadness. A hot-tempered man... no, a man with a strong sense of justice. It seemed that description suited him better. Although, to be honest, the first impression was a bit blurred. He hit someone; a fight broke out. And as it happens in movies, he was attacked by a crowd. Suddenly, the police appeared it's surprising they showed up at all and then he left through the sewer. Or rather, you suggested it. It was strange that he trusted you immediately. That same day, this man found your secret spot. Well, it seemed it was a mistake to show him the nearest manhole, but who knew he would start exploring it. Truthfully, it was hard to remain unnoticed; he was trained, almost as much as you. Or had you just lost your touch? You should come up with a new way to train.
After that day, you started seeing him more often, only in the crime-ridden streets. He managed to notice you, or did he seek you out deliberately? You didn't pay much attention to him, but for some reason, whenever you met, he could always casually leave money near you. You only talked to him a couple of times, so perhaps his scary appearance hid his kind nature.
Sometimes, you wondered where he got the money; he didn't look that rich, and it was surprising how he fed his muscular build. And with his behavior, you doubted he could even commit crimes. At least... Or, somewhere, a naive part of you didn't want to believe it. On such days, you would watch him more intently. Surprisingly, he could always hit someone, sometimes his punches reminded you of... These were just suspicions, and he was feeding you, so you weren't rushing to confirm them. Sometimes, it's better to just leave a tangled ball of thread alone.
You also saw Batman frequently. For many, he was still just a tall tale. Honestly, you weren't sure the police wanted to deal with this story. You didn't admire him. And, to be honest, his suit up close wasn't as terrifying as it was during your first meeting. After all, everything depends on the angle you look from.
Thoughts about guardianship casually crept into your mind. As if fate itself wouldn't let you forget your past.
One day, Batman found you near a playground, when you were again sitting like a beggar, having laid out several bowls. The idea was simple: write "who is better" on scraps of cardboard. People love competition, don't they? So you gave them what they wanted. Sometimes it brought in a decent amount, sometimes it didn't. You couldn't always guess what people would like this time. The Dark Knight approached suddenly, when you weren't entirely expecting it. This was the first time since your last conversation.
"You're not living in an orphanage, son?" — You froze. "Son." He shouldn't use that word when addressing you. He seemed to notice your reaction but waited for your answer.
"Not exactly. I like this place," — you lied through a strained smile. Involuntarily recalling your mentor's words, perhaps a part of you wished to have a parent, even if it was a man from legends.
"Children your age need a place to live, I know a place." — He was persistent.
"If it's another orphanage, you shouldn't waste your time on it. I'm already in one, it's just my habit to run away," — you interrupted him, still continuing. Shrugging your shoulders, gathering your belongings.
"And they never look for you?" — He stared, boring a hole through you.
"Hey, mister, would you like to donate for food?" — You smiled, looking at him and extending an empty container.
"You didn't answer." — His voice was firm.
You just looked away, pouting your lips. Sighing, you shook your head negatively. — "Please, give a child some food." — Saying this, you made a gesture with your hands and slowly batted your eyes, using your charm.
The man merely sighed, dropping coins into the container.
Your eyes sparkled. — "Well, answering your question. Was I looked for or not, it seems?" — You touched your chin with your hand, extending the container again.
"I think I've paid enough." — The man didn't take his eyes off your face. As if he could shoot lasers if he could.
"Oh well, it was worth a try." — You groaned, putting the money in your pocket. — "Well, it's not like they didn't look for me, they just pretended, so..." — You shrugged again. — "And I have to go, you know? It's already so late!" — you exclaimed, looking at an imaginary wrist watch.
The man in the mask touched your shoulder, at which you only sighed.
"Listen, Mr. Batman. If you have, well, a billionaire acquaintance whom you trust. You know, if he adopted me, well, you know. I wouldn't mind." — Of course, you were joking. It was unlikely that such a person would have... You turned your head, openly staring at him. Now your words, which you had casually dropped as a joke, no longer seemed so.
Removing his hand from your shoulder, you continued, — "You understood my words. I really need to go." — And so you left without looking back.
Since then, you haven't spoken. It seemed he was thinking over your words, or he had forgotten about it due to all the crimes that were happening more often in the area. And you gradually started forgetting about that conversation. On the bright side, today you could afford to buy an entire pizza. That is, it was a reward for the hard work of you and a few unfortunate children. After all, it was one of their birthdays, at least that's what the others claimed.
One day, when you were near the end of the line for free food from volunteers, you saw him. A wealthy, stately man with a dazzling smile and strong charisma. He stood in front of you and nonchalantly asked:
"Do you want to be my child?"
You rubbed your eyes, making sure it wasn't a hallucination from the recent sleepless nights. You knew this man; you had seen him on TV sometimes. Sometimes, other children dreamed of becoming like him. But you, you harbored no such hopes. And although it was your first time meeting Mr. Wayne, you immediately understood who he was. You had seen the Dark Knight up close too many times not to realize that the billionaire in front of you was... Also, the image of the man with the ugly scar on his right cheek flashed in your mind. If the billionaire and Batman were the same person... It was surprising to meet three different personalities of one man. Now it wasn't surprising why this man came with such a strange question.
You saw the faces of the children, saw how envy consumed them, like a swamp, slowly dragging them under. You saw their clenched fists, permeated with a slight tremor. But you also saw their faces stretched into smiles. And although there were children among them with sad eyes filled with tears, it was clear that they didn't want to let you go. They were waiting for your answer just as the man in front of you was. You just smiled, nodding affirmatively. You couldn't refuse such an offer...
That same day, he picked you up in an elegant car. You were seated in the back, where you looked out the window. Watching the tall buildings gradually disappear beyond the horizon.
Mr. Wayne glanced at you through the mirror for a while before speaking first. — "What is your name?" — His voice was calm.
"Name. No last name." — You just swung your legs, not taking your eyes off the scenery outside. You were sure he knew your name, and possibly your last name too. Maybe he just wanted to hear your answer. — "This car is so comfortable! I've never seen anything like it." — You lied without blushing. Playing the child was fun; you recalled your days in the orphanage. When you and others were forced to study many car brands and their interiors. — "Are we going to that famous Wayne Manor?" — you continued.
"Didn't you have parents? And yes, we are going to that manor," — turning away from the window, you noticed him smile.
"To be honest, I don't remember their last name, and does it even matter if we're family now?" — You observed his reaction.
"You're right, we are family now." — He seemed to say it tentatively. You didn't respond, moving to the middle of the seat. To open up your view to the side mirrors. From time to time, you glanced at each of them. Mr. Wayne was a rich man; there was no harm in just covering your bases.
Note: The chapter has been translated by an interpreter. English is not my native language.
...In my opinion, the events moved too quickly and felt more like "author's exposition." Also, I left a lot behind the scenes. I thought I would reveal more about the reader's life through flashbacks. Initially, I thought I would just ramble on. At one point, I even thought about starting with "a day in the life" and describing how they met other children and adults, the police, and how they built connections, but I got stuck, and this is what we have.
I was planning to write about 10k words in one chapter, but I realized that because of the way I write, it will be difficult to do. I suppose the meeting with Alfred will happen in Chapter 1, Part 2. As I wanted to start Chapter 2 with Dick. To give each character a chapter. Maybe.
I spent a long time rereading comics with Bruce before he became Batman. But even so, I'm still not sure how Bruce would have acted. I'd like to watch the animated shows, but the internet doesn't allow it for now. (And I'm also coming up with strange excuses for myself).
I hope I haven't confused you with my introduction to the story. For those who didn't catch it, the beginning of the chapter—the day about the sewer—is the same day you met the man with the scar. I don't know what prompted me to write it that way. But ok.
Just got my comments done for Day 2 of @justleaveacommentfest.
This is my day honestly jasdghjadgh I read almost exclusively G & T fics these days.
This whole event is amazing and I can only recommend everyone to join in. Revisit the wonderful fics you've read this year or find new ones! Make a writer happy by saying something nice! Feel good for making a writer happy by saying something nice!
