Me: Konichiwa! *Whispers to Dick* Did I spell that right?
Dick: *Shrugs* Uh-nuh.
Me: You're hopeless.
Dick: So are you.
Me: No argument there!
Barbra: Can we move this along? I've got a date.
Dick: I find that hard to believe.
Me: Shut up and let me do my job! Unless you want me to get Bruce.
Barb & Dick: Shutting up.
THANK YOU! Ugh, I swear, it is not healthy how many people I want to kill.
Either way, I do not own Batman or anything DC!
… that would be cool, though...
BTW, to make this easier on myself, I did this in the Animated series, so tell all your Batman loving friends. Also, sorry if I get some stuff wrong and make it seem a little bad
Barb: Or really bad.
Me: I will literally kick you out of this room if you don't let me wrap this Author's Note. Now, let us begin!
Dick: Where is Bruce?
Me: *slaps back of his head* We're starting so shut up!
Dick: *Walks away* I think I prefer Bruce.
Samanthat woke to the sound of yelling. It was morning, so the caretakers will be expecting her to hurry with getting dressed and eating breakfast, having a dozen chores for just her only to complete before bedtime, only to go through the same routine the next day. The little girl groaned as she took the pillow from under her head and fliped herself onto her stomach, the pillow covering her head and hopefully muffling the yells of other children. Samantha wanted to stay in the world of sleep, where she was free of the cruel reality she knew awaited her. Unlike this prison, which was probably worse than Arkham, she smiled in the world of dreams.
Just five more minutes... Five more minutes, Lord, please...
However, Samantha's prayers were not heard in time as her bunk mate jumped off the top bunk and landed next to her, yanking the pillow out of the small child's grasp and slamming it down on her head.
Hard.
"Wake up, Sleepy-Ass," she smirks, giggling as she walks away to go to the bathroom. After staying completely still for a few seconds, Samantha finally mustered the strength to roll onto her back, opening mysty purple-grey eyes, which have been deprived of that spark of wonder children seemed to have long ago, making them seem dull. "Good morning, hellhole," she mutter to herself, sliding out of the dangerously creaky bed and placing her bare feet on the cold, slightly splintered wooden floor.
Rushing to go through her morning routine without getting a splinter from the floor, Samantha tried hard to get dressed without the other girls picking on her and keep the s9me of her few good-fitting clothes safe from another attempt of them being flushed down the toilet. After quickly doing so, she succeed in getting her full chocolate brown hair brushed and into a lose ponytail, which was as long as her small back from the lack of trimming for quite a while. She then threw on a slightly dirtied black hoodie over her outfit, which was a slightly tight red shirt, and jeans that, at one point a while back, didn't have tears in them. She then threw on some socks she managed to find and placed grey and pink Sketchers that were half a size too small over them, baring with the slight discomfort.
It's not like anyone will do anything about it if I complain, she thought as she walked out of the room, hearing the others whisper about her. Samantha ignored them, like she always did. One of the older girls of the room gave her a glance, and she just stuck her tounge out to make her look away in disgust.
Samantha kept her head down as she walked through the halls and down to the dining hall. Around her, children were laughing and giggling with their friends, pushing past her like she wasn't even there. She'd gotten used to it a long time ago, having experienced it for practically her entire llife. She was eight and three-fourths, she should not be so used to bullying and pain by now. Yet here she was, alone, surrounded by both adults and children who called her trash on a daily basis.
The young brunette sat alone at a table in the back of the hall, poking at her pancakes with her fork, zoning everything out. She was pretty sure nothing would bring her out of the trance when someone knocked on the table.
"Knock, knock," a female voice said. Samantha looked up to find the only caretaker that didn't think she was garbage that needed to be burned. "Who's there?" she ask, smiling softly. "Kristen." "Kristen who?" she ask in response, giggling and tilting her head in amusment. "Kristen's... armpit!" she yelled, laughing as she pulled the eight-year-old into her armpit.
Samantha squealed and laughed as she tried to push herself away from the playful assault. Soon, Kristen released her and smirked, sitting down across from her. "So. Enjoying your breakfast?" she asked, taking the apple off Samantha's tray and peeling it with a knife she had brought. "Cold pancakes? What's not to enjoy?" she asked, her eyes returning to being bored as she stuffed a forkful of said pancakes, grimacing a bit at their lack of warmth. She was always the one kid to get the cold batch.
Kristen was the only person that ever loved Samantha. Well... aside from her mother. But she was gone, so the only person in the young girl's life that she liked was Kristen. She was an orphan as well. Altough, she was eighteen and a volunteer here while she went to Gotham University. Samantha liked her. She was like the sister she never had. She always hung out with her if she was still around whenever the little girl had free time, and whenever she was working around Samantha's bedtime, she always read a few pages of Becoming Naomi Leon, ond of Kristen's more kid-friendly favorites. She was the best thing that had happened to Samantha since she had first arrived.
"So. You excited?" Kristen asked, now slicing the apple as Samantha finished her milk. "About what?" "You can't be serious," Kristen said, a deadpanned look on her face. "What?!" "Today Bruce Wayne is visiting and making a donation," Kristen said, handing the little girl half of the slices while having the other half. "Are you serious?!" she yelled, attracting attention from several tables. "Yeah. Why?" "Because Bruce Wayne is awesome! You know how much I like science," Samantha said, giggling. "Oh yeah, you once had me read from a business magazine about Wayne Industries," Kristen sighed, munching on her final slice. "Too bad it only means that I have to do a bunch of work before-" "Noon," Kristen finished, licking her fingers. "And it's only eight. Here's the list of chores," she added, handing you a slip of paper. Samantha groaned as she took it from her.
1. Sweep room
2. Clean windows in room
3. Clean toilets in third floor bathroom
4. Clean mold off of the third floor bathroom and toilets and tubs
"WHY?" she groaned, letting her forehead fall onto the table. "Quit whining, I'm goanna be here all day so I can help you finish up and still have time to help you make a gift for Mr. Wayne," Kristen reassured, patting her young friend's shoulder. Samantha only let out one long, tired sigh.
I should NOT have the mental and physical exhaustion of a 45-year-old at eight in the morning.
Three and a half hours later, Samantha was taking a quick shower to clean off any filth that had gotten on her whe cleaning the bathroom. When she stepped out and dry off, she slipped back into the same outfit that Kristen had washed and got her hair back into its ponytail. When she returned to her room, Kristen has pieces of old newspapers spread out on the floor. Sprawled around on the papers were pens, pencils, markers, paint, glitter, glue, glitter glue, and colored paper. "Hurry up, slow poke, you've got thirty minutes until Mr. Wayne comes and you don't want to be the only one without a gift, do you?" she asked, placing a medium-sized poster board on the ground. "It's not like anyone will notice," she muttered, earning a glare from Kristen.
"Samantha, come on! Have some enthusiasm. Mr. Wayne is your hero, don't you want to show your appreciation for inspiring you?" She asked, handing the depressed little girl a pencil as she sat down next to her. "... yeah," Samantha sighed, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face and taking the pencil and starting to draw, a design forming in her mind.
She bad learn how to draw from Kristen, who was an art major. She always drew the best things, from flowers to people. Samantha wanted to be able to draw as well as her some day, so she spent a lot of her free time and the nights she couldn't sleep practicing.
With five minutes to spare, Samantha and Kristen had drawn the little girl next to Mr. Wayne, giving him flowers that she had draw with glitter and colored paper. Above, there were birds with the words "Thank You Mr. Wayne!" in glitter glue.
"Well, this should be good enough for the billionaire," Kristen said, smiling down at their work work. "I hope so," Samantha said, more to herself than Kristen. "Hey, come on, it will be," she said, nudging the smaller girl with her elbow. With that, Kristen rushes to clean up before going with her to the main room on the bottom floor.
There, kids are lined up, the younger ones like Samantha holding arts-and-crafts. She could see that some had actually made and painted cups and vases, others had origami, and some had drawings. The fact made her smile since she was the only one with a poster that Mr. Wayne could possibly frame and hang, sould he want it. But that was wishful thinking. Samantha was about to take her place when she bumped into someone. With a yelp, she fell on her stomach onto the hard floor.
She was afraid to get up as she hear laughter. But Samantha knew she'd have to at some point, whether by her own or by force from the caretakers. So she got up, and look down at her project. She saw that the glitter glue was smudged a little, there were several snagged areas from the floor, and it turns out that the pens, markers, and paint hadn't completely dried.
Luckily, it wasn't too messed up, but still! Half an hour of rushed work and it wasn't even close to as perfect as it was before! Samantha struggled to keep the tears in her eyes from falling and ruining the poster any more as she tried to flatten it out a bit more.
Samantha turned around to see that the person that she had bumped into was completely dressed in black. She didn't recognize his height and build, and his presences somehow gave her an unpleasant chill with his face covered like that. She were about to pursue him when Kristen was at her side.
"Samantha! Wha-!" She saw the ruined poster, and crouched down to hug her. "OMG, sweetie, I'm so sorry! What happened?!"
But Samantha didn't have time to answer. One of the caretakers told her to line up, and Kristen stood behind the saddened girl, gripping her shoulders tightly. Samantha bit her lower lip, trying hard not to cry. Soon she heard hushed chattering, and looked around the others to see Bruce Wayne, in the flesh. He had a small, warm smile on his face with a young man standing on one side of him and an older gentlemen on the other side. She gazed in awe as her role model shook hands with the head of the orphanage. But she also dreaded showing him her ruined work.
For a few minutes, Samantha watched as Mr. Wayne walked through the lines of children, admiring their arts and crafts and smiling at them. She waited in anticipation and fear as he got closer and closer to her and her own work. Once he got to the child next to her, Samantha cloud feel Kristen's grip on her shoulders tighten. When he finally reached her, the eight-year-old felt her body freeze. Her misty purple-grey eyes gazed at his blue ones as he smiled down at her. She never broke eye contact as he kneeled down to reach her small height, feeling her cheeks flush as she grew shy.
"Hello," he said, smiling softly. "Hi," she said quietly, looking down at the floor and fidgeting. "What's your name?" he asks her, trying to regain eye contact. "Samantha," she answered so softly it couldn't even be considered a whisper. "I'm sorry, could you. Could you say that again?" "Samantha Her name is Samantha," Kristen said, gaining the attention of the billionaire. "And I'm Kristen. I'm a volunteer and a friend of Samantha's," the young lady said, smiling. "Samantha …. What a lovely name," he said, looking back at the little girl. "Thank you," she finally managed to say in her full voice. "What did you make?" he asked, looking at the poster. Samantha bit her lip again as she turned the poster around to show her ruined handiwork. She turned away, not wanting to see his look of annoyance at the messed up poster.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne, but it seems that it got ruined before we could show it to you," Kristen explained as Bruce took the poster and examined it. "What a beautiful drawing," he said after a moment of silence. "Did you draw this?" he asked to a shocked Samantha. She perked up a bit, her eyes looking at his once again. "A little bit! Kristen taught me how to draw and is still helping me," she explained, smiling. "Well, you two are aspiring artist, indeed. Alfred," Bruce said, and the older gentleman came up. "Place this in the car and place an order for a frame, please," he asked, earning a nod from the man called "Alfred". Samantha smiled brightly, glad that he still liked her work. For the first time in years, her smile was genuine and her eyes had regained a bit of their childlike spark for an instant.
The most in quite a few years, actually.
But as soon as he left, it faded. She knew that the attention would cost her. Samantha knew the other orphans would be jealous and give her a hard time for weeks to come. And the caretakers would think she was hogging and nagging Mr. Wayne and give her more chores until the matter was forgotten or until they thought she was punished enough. Most likely the first.
But it was all worth it. Hell, Bruce Wayne just called her aspiring! How awesome was that?!
Later in the day, after Bruce Wayne had left, Samantha spotted something as she swept the main room. On the floor, there was a wallet. Curiously, she picked it up and looked inside. Her eyes widen to find the license was for Bruce Wayne! Samantha quickly closed it and was about to shove it in her hoodie pocket when Kristen rushed in.
"Samantha, come on, it's almost dinner! You have to hurry," she said, grabbing the little girl's hand and was about to drag her out until she noticed the wallet. "What's that?" "Mr. Wayne's wallet," she stated plainly, showing it to her. "OMG, he dropped his wallet! Come on, let's get this to the head's office." "No, wait!"
Samantha pulled her back until she stopped her from walking out of the main room. "Lets return it ourselves! We can have another chance to talk to him," she suggested. "Noooo, no! I'm not allowed to take you out of here," Kristen hissed, glaring.
"Pleeeeaaase, Kristen? If we turn it in the caretakers will think I stole it! And I've never been outside before!" you whined, giving her puppy dog eyes. She stays still for a minute, then groans in defeat.
"Fine! But if we get in trouble, it's your fault," she said, sighing.
"Wow!" Samantha exclaimed, looking around at Gotham at night. "Samantha! Pay attention! We have, like, an hour-long walk to go to get to Wayne Manor," Kristen whispered, gripping the little brunette's hand tightly as you both walk down the sidewalks, hardly anyone there, it being night and all. Kristen had pulled on a black overcoat and black jeans and black boots, her short blonde hair and green eyes standing out.
"Hey, you think we'll see the Batman?" Samantha asked, gazing at the sky. "Samantha, get serious! Our goal is Mr. Wayne, not the Bat," she hisses back at her, yanking her small wrist to cross the street. "Why are you being mean?!" "Because we're young females walking around the streets of Gotham at night! When you're older, you'll understand," she explained. Samantha only looked at her with a look of annoyance, already knowing what she meant. Thanks a lot for scaring me for life, orphan teens, she thought, frowning as they went down another street.
Samantha suddenly felt a familiar chill run down herr spine, and looked around in fear. "Kristen?" "Yeah?" "Do you see anyone in black?" "Why?" "Becau-"
The rest of her sentence would never be heard, because a shrill laugh filled the air. Samantha and Kristen tense up, hands gripping each other so tight that their knuckles turn white. Samantha jerked her head around, trying to find the familiar black figure. She then saw him, walking out of a dark alleyway.
"Well, well! Look-ie here! The two girls B. Wayne seemed to take interest in," he said. Kristen got in front of her young friend, slowly backing up with said young friend clinging to her leg. "Kris, I'm scared," Samantha whimper. And that was saying something, considering her living arrangements. "Don't worry, girl, just back awa-"
Another sentence was kept from finishing when the black clothing was shed and the Joker was revealed. Samantha gasped in fear and could no longer tell if the shaking was her or Kristen.
"Now... who should I kill off first?" he asked, that crazy smile on his face. He pulled out a gun, and she only griped Kristen tighter.
"Enie, meanie, mineie… MO!"
The gun was pointed at Samantha, and her legs just began to run aagainst her will to an unknown location. There was a bang, and the small girl froze while she waited for the inevitable.
But it never came.
Samantha risked look behind her and saw Kristen standing in front of her, arms and legs spread wide out, blocking the little girl. Samantha already knew what happened, and she felt the tears well up as a loud scream left her lips before she could stop it. She watched as Kristen fell to her knees, then onto her side. The little girl rushed over to her side, and saw that her skin was losing color fast.
The bullet had punctured her right lung.
"Kris... Kris?!" "Sa... Saman...t-tha…" she whispered, raising one hand to caress the crying girl's cheek. "N...no... Please... I already lost-" Kristen shushes her as she begins to fade even more.
"Pity. It would've been less traumatizing for either of you if you had gone first," Joker said, laughing. Samantha glared at him, every vein in her small body filled with anger. Her best friend was about to leave her forever... AND HE'S LAUGHING!
"You... You... YOU BASTARD!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Oooh. Children shouldn't curse, you know," he laughed, aiming the gun at her once more. This time, she didn't run. She could hear Kristen trying to tell you to run, to save herself.
But Samantha just stared at the gun, tears still trickling down. She hugged her best friend as tight as she could as she held her gaze towards the end.
What's the point of me living if I don't have anyone to live with and for? she thought as she saw Joker about to pull the trigger.
But as the loud bang filled the air, a giant black figure flew in front of her and threw somethin at the gun, knocking the bullet off course.
Samantha could only stare in disbelief, and raised a hand to where her pulse was on her neck with little thought.
I'm still alive, she realized. She looked at the figure, and only one word escaped her lips.
"Batman..."
