Author's Note: I wrote this during a FRIDAY! (Friday, February 16, 2001) So like it or don't! This is not regarding any other fanfics (Sorry to Annie!) but I needed the room to work. Yeah, I know some things may seem familiar to what I've said before to some of y'all, but that's only because I can't get away from that theory of this character's past, so nyah! This is SO a first in my case, so, like I said, like it or don't! It's got no title and CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS TO Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker.
Legalities: *does a dance in tribute to Paul Dini and the WB*
Rating: PG-13 (Profanities… graphicness? I dunno)
Dedicated to: Annie! Since you refuse to watch the movie, at least read this! This is ALL TOON BASED!
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Dear Bruce,
This is going to be kind of weird, I suggest you sit down as you read this. Not boring, but not exciting, not nerve racking. Just long.
When I first came to Gotham City, I was only five years old. Dad wanted to get a start here, we had just come from a sort of "little Italy" in NYC. Figures his first job would be with the JOKER. Ironic.
So, as we were moving into the shithole the land lord had the audacity to call a apartment, I heard an explosion down the hall. I toddled my way out and peered over to see a man fly out and slam into the wall across the hall. And who comes out there but the Dark Knight himself and Robin, right behind him. From that point on I was STUCK on that whole… thing. At seven, I asked Dad:
"You think one of these days *I* could be a crime fighter?"
"It takes money to do that, Timmy," Dad said. "And we don't have money. Therefore, shut up!"
Thanks, Dad. You were always supportive.
The next time I saw you was outside a convenience store in the 'hood with Robin (I was 9 then), you left a batarang in the pavement—IN it! That was so cool. I snagged the batarang and ran up to the roof of the shi—apartment complex. Every day and every night that Dad wasn't around (which was, like, all the time) I'd go up there and practice and practice. Finally, I got ultimately good! Dad wanted to play baseball once he stopped working for the Riddler one time when I was 11 and I whupped him. "JEEZ, boy!" Dad yelled after I flung the ball past him perfectly a tenth time, "Where the HELL did you get aim like that?!"
"I dunno," was all I said.
After that, Dad bragged about me 24/7 to anyone and everyone. Even his bosses listened about how strong, smart and quick his boy was. Funny. Dad NEVER hid me in the shadows, but he was never around, hardly.
When Dad died, it hurt so bad, and I've got no idea why. I guess I have a habit of letting people take advantage of my feelings. Mom did that. She still does. She ALWAYS harasses me… Abusive, crack addicted whore. Love her dearly, but that doesn't stop the fact of what she IS.
So, you know, I think I'll announce real quick that there's this thing called HORMONES, right? I don't know if you ever found this out… I never told anyone but Alfred and he said he'd keep it a secret—I had my first girlfriend at 14. Yes, yes, you'll SAY you knew, but… you were always too damn busy with the JLA to pay attention. To damn busy to care about me. Or Babs and Dick for that matter.
Now… here comes the hard part. Sorry about the shots, but it's true. Now… hang on…
Okay.
That first night the Joker had a hold of me, all I wanted to do was protect you and the others. The blinding pain of the electro-shocks, and the force that the truth serums placed on me was hard to fight, but I managed. It was when I found myself losing control of my mouth and saying things… and losing my memories……… Nothing was more agonizing than this:
"What's Batman's REAL name, kiddo?"
"No…no…can't…"
"Bad boy."
Blinding, blinding, searing electro-shock for being a "Bad boy"…
"Tell daddy his name!"
"Not…daddy…dead…daddy's dead…nonono…"
"Ah-ah! Wrong answer."
God, more PAIN… By this time my only constant in the twirling, changing, twisting world was the pain and the tears.
"One last chance, son. WHO IS BATMAN?"
'Please God…' I panted internally. 'Make him stop… make him stop… nono…can't…'
"Please… please… please stop…"
"I'm not hearing a naaaame… Perhaps another—"
"NO!!! Please! …it… it… no…"
"Harley, inject him with some more anti-lie stuff!"
The freak broke the needle in my arm after she injected it, and then another shock ripped through my body. And that's when my mouth betrayed me…
"…B…Bruce…"
"Yes, sonny-boy?"
"Bruce… Wuh…Wayne…"
Oh, he was HAPPY. And just to show how happy he was, he cranked the juice up on the electricity tables and let me have it… And I cried… so hard… from pain and the fact that I betrayed you. For all the times you were never there, I still cared. I'm not sure why, but I did.
I'm so sorry.
Weeks—no, MONTHS seemed to pass (even though I learned later it was only days) and soon the day came. I had just come to… and… and… I knew he won… when I began to feel the need to laugh. It hurt, but I had to key out a few hysterical giggles. Talking wasn't an option, because the laughing wasn't either. It was all funny, all of a sudden. All a JOKE.
I became his MONSTER…
Oh, but after that, it was ALL different. By this time I was his son! His pride and joy! They treated me like it too. Harley and he were my Mommy and Daddy, and we were one BIG, HAPPY *family*…
When you and Babs came for me, there wasn't a thought in my head. My mind had been fried out from the drugs, the electricity, the torture, and the contorting chemicals that went into my "new look". All I knew, on a weird, zombie-like level was that daddy thought it was all too funny and mommy needed her bazooka. And being a good boy, I helped them try to kill you.
The whole thing was hysterical to me—though comprehensively I didn't think about it, because I couldn't. It was when the Joker placed you in front of me, and put the gun in my hands, that I began to realize. No words were in my mind—he had practically stolen the art of language from me—but images. I remembered the first time I put on the Robin's suit, the first time I met Dick. I remembered that time that I was feeling REALLY down and Dick and Babs wore those dumbass costumes to cheer me up (by the way, I now know that was ALFRED), and all the times Dick, Barb and I stayed up until 4 in the morning, hacking government systems………
All the times you sat with me, helping me do that ONE math problem that couldn't be solved, and I was up until midnight on a school night fretting over; help me understand a stupid poem so I could write an essay due the next day… All the times you told me how I did good, but taught me how to do it different so it'd be better… That's when I realized… For all the times I've cried for my Dad, and the times in those 3 weeks I desired the Joker's false fatherly love…
I've always had a father in YOU, Bruce.
So I pulled the trigger. Wasn't a accident, but… it was a impulsive reaction to it… stupid… As he took his final breath, I realized what exactly I did. Still no words in my mind, but I knew. All at once, every thing that ever happened to me in those three weeks crashed in on me and what I just did to him… and the dishonor I just threw at you… it broke me…
And I cried.
Almost two years later, I find myself at my wit's end with you, Bruce. The therapy was bull shit, the schooling is over-bearing and the fact that I'm trapped inside this house… Well, my body still hurts from everything, pre-during-post.
Now comes the even harder part, Bruce. The purpose of me telling you this. You tucked me away, you made me abandon what I was. And you made me not care. I hate Robin… I HATE HIM!
These days you care, but too much! You've smothered me in attention now, and I can't breathe. When I was younger, I wanted this attention. But now, I don't need the damn therapy—and I don't need YOU. So I'm leaving. Better for us all. You told the press I'm in Japan… so, that's where I'm going for now. I know… conversational Mandarin, so it's all good. And then, when I turn 18, I'll register at UCLA, or maybe Stanford. With my record, they'll be STUPID not to accept.
I'm telling you this… because I hope one day we can make up and be allies again. Unlike Grayson, I NEED to know we're still on good terms. But if I never hear from you, I understand. I know this has been hard on you too.
I'm just sorry I wasn't good enough for you…
Sincerely,
Your Friend Forever,
Timothy Drake