Chapter Text
IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL
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He felt his cape wrapped around his body- he could feel the way the wind pushed against his quickly falling form. It hurt- it hurt so much. He wouldn't die at this height. Maybe he'd have to go back to rest? From the fact that he was still falling- and had been for at least 5 minutes.. yes. Yes, he'd be sleeping for a while. That sounded oddly appealing. Like a dream he'd never be able to live. His mask was ripped from his face as he continued to fall. Closing his eyes, he imagined a place- a place he was so familiar with. One he'd loved so much. Just think of that happiness, he thought, wondering when his back would hit solid ground. Wondering when he would hit solid ground.
Wondering if he'd survive.
However, he decided that even if he didn't survive, he would accept the consequences. Who was he to deny what fate wished upon him? If fate wished it so, he would die. It would be a miserable death, knowing he couldn't see something familiar in his last moments. In a moment of wishful thinking, he hoped that when he awoke (if he did), he would see a familiar face, someone he knew.
Unbeknownst to him, his wish was granted, by fates or whatever being in the world. Whoever controlled such things decided that he deserved a bit of happiness in his life.
Eventually, his back collided with something cold and metal, then something hard. Concrete. His gaze went dark as his mind faded away. Not long after, he awoke, but he was different. He wasn't the same. He wasn't who he had been.
They returned as a being only a monster could love.
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Their eyes slowly opened, and as they did- he wondered. Who were they? Where were they? Why were they here? Memory was scarce, but some did return to them. Slowly, memories of falling. Memories of what exactly they were right now. Why they looked like this. Where they were- well, they actually wasn't too sure about that one. It felt familiar, yet they couldn't find any true recollection of a place like this, so dimly lit, so dark and dingy. It was familiar, yet not at the same time.
Their little bits of recollection weren't really helping them with that, if they were being honest.
Their form slowly snaked around the alleyway- finding a water puddle. Their white, beady eyes that contradicted so strongly with the shadowy that they'd taken on. Not that they really knew what they looked like before, but still. It felt like they were staring at a contrast between not only the eyes and the body... but their old appearance, who they used to be.
A figure made purely of black shadows, able to manipulate its appearance. That was quite interesting. Being able to manipulate its shape so effortlessly made them startle slightly, had they experienced this so much that they had the muscle memory to do so? It was a disturbing thought, that this was not the first time they had experienced this form. This amnesia. Whatever in the name of God this entire experience was, they honestly wished they'd never have to experience it again once they were free from it.
With a sigh could they even breathe they slinked through the alleyway, words flying through their mind as their eyes caught each item around them. However, something heart wrenching made them pause. It sounded like the wails of a child, a crying child. Slowly, they slinked closer, head tilted as they examined the child crying between the two bodies, they could see the pools of blood beneath the bodies, and something clicked as more memories began to slowly drip in.
It was odd, having to rely on experiencing things for memory. It seemed wrong, however, they weren't sure.
So, instead of dwelling on that, they pulled the child into the cloak of the shadow, the sounds only got louder. They weren't sure if something was getting wet, but perhaps they were, or perhaps it was merely the child's suit. Whatever the reason, they wrapped their arms around the child and allowed the child to cry. Something told them that the child would not cry for a long time after this. Perhaps it was just a general observation, but they had a feeling that this would be the last time the child cried so openly.
Part of them wondered why this child seemed unafraid, were they not a monster? Was it merely the childishness of a child needing comfort? It was a curious thought. Yet they knew their voice would not work, they could feel the strain in their body, they weren't sure where though. There was strain in every corner of their body. It was uncomfortable.
However, they merely remained there, embracing this miserable child.
They lifted their head-adjacent appendage to look at the source of new footsteps. There stood an older, British looking man with a solemn face. Tilting their head, their head turned between the butler man and the child before they nodded and dissolved their form, leaving behind a flower that was pristinely white in color. The flower drifted down from where the shadow had once been, landing on the floor with not a single sound.
They couldn't help but feel sympathy for the boy. Perhaps they would meet again. Whatever the case, they hoped the boy would appreciate their gift. They wanted to give something meaningful to the boy who'd just lost it all.
Yes, Bruce deserved such a gift.
Startled, they paused, where had the name come from? They hoped it was correct, because the child would now be Bruce in their mind.
A startling encounter indeed.