And All You'll Hear Is…
Chapter 1: No Grand Salute for You
Disclaimer: I own nothing of DC Comics, Nolan's Batman series and…Nolan's Inception XD
Pairings: This will be both SLASH and HET. Arthur/Eames, past!Cobb/Mal, past!Bruce/Rachel. Be advised, the romance will be very light for this story.
Summary: Back before he first donned the cape, before Ra's al Ghul, before the alley, before he even gave Rachel a second glance…there was Arthur the Orphan.
"After that my guess is that you will never hear from him again. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. And just like that... he was gone".
- Usual Suspects (1995)
News came fast, as they usually do in Gotham when miracles happen. Spit-balling citizens (ranging from a man with rotting teeth with no clothes to a woman with plump red lips wrapped in a fox stole) had lined up since morning by the snow melting streets. Long, dark, heavy built cars slowly drove by, clean as a whistle leading the rest of the pack. When the line of hearses trickled into the crowd's field of range, all sorts of people had let loose.
It wasn't about making a scene or making something sacred into something ugly and cheap. If it were, there would have been no point. The blacked out windows were already stained from 5 blocks away and the accompanying party knew it was a lost cause trying to wipe it clean. Besides, they already added a few of their own mementos when they began to follow the stream down the road. It was about them laying down the palm leaves for the arrival of Christ. It was about them cleaning and shining the road for something really amazing. It was also about them spitting on someone else's parade.
After the hail, the security followed from behind. It consisted of only two patrol cars and four delinquent cops forced on the job. The only perk was that to their dying day, they can tell fellow shady poker players and grandkids alike that they were there to help bury the sons of bitches named the Kint Family.
As the parade eventually made it past the municipal cemetery gates, the squad cars placed themselves in front of the frozen driveway creating a loose barricade. The rowdy mass of the angry and praying public joined with the loud, incessant reporters who were already camped there waiting to rumble for choice of first words. The thunderous commotion that came from just beyond the cheap, iron rusted fence was a far cry from the atmosphere surrounding the five freshly dug graves.
There was a detached sense of being rushed amongst the workers who hurried to fill them. There was no priest, no crying widow, and no solemn wreaths of lilies placed on the nondescript headstones. There was only a single stem of a pale, off-white carnation –
"Oh honey, look at your hands! Let's get the mud washed off quickly, what were you thinking?"
"You said you wanted flowers for the kitchen, so I went and got you flowers mom!"
"Leave the boy alone, that's hilarious. Look at that, our boy's a man of action! I gotta tell the guys."
- held between the loose fingers of a smartly dressed boy. Dressed to the nines in black, he painted the picture of someone very lost without anyone he'd like to ask for help. It didn't help his cause that he looked ridiculously out of place among the busy bodies, some even passing along a communal coffee mug amongst themselves.
As the city paid help patted down the last grave, they turned as one (as a mob) towards him. Eyes placed all on him, right there in the –
"Courtroom. The judge, the lawyers and the camera crew all wanting a picture of him. Go away, go away, go – "
field of frost bitten weeds that crunched under their boots. They boy ducked his head even lower, letting his charcoal bangs fall in front of his eyes and tensed his jaw.
"Finally." Someone whispered, lost in the gaggle. Finally they were done the deed. Finally they can sleep well, knowing that they don't need to come to work for a hopefully long time. Finally they can say 'Good Riddance.' Save for one last boy, but they weren't worried and they had good reason not to be. They left him there alone to be found.
Again they turned as one to leave. They headed in the direction of the waiting crowd. The noise died down as the diggers and sleek cars pushed forward, closer. As the last digger affixed his own place within the group, the last car disappeared around the bend. The horde of people literally smelt the stink of tension ebb away until the air was as fresh as calm. A man with a shovel smiled down at a little girl beside him, who grabbed her mother's hand, who also then sighed prettily towards her husband. Just like that, a surreal sense of Kumbaya ran through the guts of every single person there. Amidst all of this, the sense of calm was replaced by a low hum of static.
A cheer erupted. So loud it reached the mayor's office. He rose from his leather back chair and gave a small hurrah of his own. He then proceeded to shake the hands of his District Attorney and Commissioner. The celebratory noise glided into the slimiest corners and rat holes of the Narrows. Girls with no shoes and boys with no shirts ran out onto the streets without fear for the first time in a long time, before they were even born. Only the most seasoned of 'Narrownians' knew that the joy is to be short lived.
As the merry mood reached all the way to the outskirts of town, some even claimed it could be heard in Metropolis, the little boy and his little carnation remained quiet. His jaw and fist were so tight that the aura around him creaked and moaned. He decided to move at a certain point till he was right in front and between two tall, arched stones named Mariah and Arthur. And there, he stayed.
A few hours later, a haphazard looking woman arrived and spotted him standing at the exact spot. She took a rolled up bundle of newspaper and tucked it tightly under her arm. She sucked in a deep breadth. She then pulled out an official looking sheet of paper and hurried over to her problem several paces in front of her. If someone saw him standing there alone, she'd be out of a job. Then again, she's the only one she knows that actually had to do work when all of Gotham was a flutter with happy news.
Her eyes never strayed away from the back of his head as she said, "I'm sent from city hall. I'm here to place you in temporary care until we can appoint you new guardians or relocate you to a more permanent setting. You are now officially a ward of the state."
She handed him the limp sheet of paper, damp from the falling snow. She gave it a sharp shake and the boy still hadn't looked up. The corners of his eyes tightened ever so slightly though.
She continued, "We would like to offer you our sincerest sympathies. Now if you may please follow me."
She gathered herself and marched away from the site. She was halfway down the path before she realised that she could not hear a second set of footsteps behind her. She turned around to prepare a few choice words, but froze instead.
The boy was looking at her, just looking at her with stone set eyes. Dark and brooding, like a horror film. She swallowed quickly, privately, trying to get something, anything out of her throat. He twisted his face away from hers and then dropped his flower in such a way that it looked like it floated there, right between the two larger-than-the-other grave stones. It looked almost romantic. He risked one last look before putting his still tight fists into his pockets and walked away.
When the social worker pulled on her seatbelt with shaking hands, the boy noticed the discarded front page news article in the backseat beside him. He remembered seeing The Gotham Times everywhere. From the chauffeur that picked him up, from the crowd who passed each other a copy or two, from the gravediggers who used it as a coaster for their stupid coffee mug and now here. Right there, placed almost strategically in the back seat of an old mustard yellow Ford.
It's when he was half an hour away from the orphanage that he chanced a look at the front page. "The End of a Tyranny! The Kint Family Murdered in Sleep!" His jaw bit down hard and a keen throb pressed into his eyeballs. His father's dentist warned him about that, but where was he to give him advice? Where was the live in nanny who warmed his milk at night, the family lawyer that taught him big words only to laugh at hearing the fumbles? Two-timing finks, traitors, I'll never ever ever – He breathed out slowly through his nose, just like his Dad used to while watching the news, before he looked at the subheadings littering the rush printed articles.
"Falcone Named Next Head. Was This Planned?"
"Mayor to Give Speech on Peace and Plans for City Wide Cleansing"
"See Detailed Description of Kint Family and Mini Biographies. From Pauper to Prince: How Mariah and Arthur Kint Sr Went From Slum Tailors to Mob Royalty"
"Only Child and Survivor of Kint Massacre! What Will Happen to Arthur Kint Jr?"
His tiny pale fingers started to crush the already well worn edges of the daily news and when he read, "Arthur Jr: Far From? Top Child Psychologists From Arkham Offer Their Thoughts." He folded it roughly and shoved it away.
When he looked up to peer through the salt covered windows, he realised that they've reached the St. Mary – Mariah – Orphanage. More dreadful than that, he noticed that he was softly crying the whole ride there.
Author's Note: So this is my first venture into actually writing something for fun. Not gonna lie, I feel bad that this chapter feels so short compared to the other amazing stories out there. I will try to make the next chapter a bit more lively compared to this slow, drawn out preview. Also, as you can probably tell, this was a first glance at just recently orphaned tyke!Arthur from Inception. The story will mostly take place in Gotham since there is so much more information about this universe than Inception, but no fear! Everyone will have their shining moment. Also, can anyone guess what was my mob movie reference? First person who does so gets their very own drabble will their own prompt filled in chp 2!
On another note, I NEED BETA READER :D Someone who is well-versed in both...verses lol and is comfortable with crossovers. I don't really know how this works (damn my n00b skillz) so I will be shopping around/asking for Beta requests.
Next time: Overcoming Inertia: Arthur is moved from orphanage to foster home to orphanage until he ends up at the hospital. Of all the people that finally decide to give him a chance, of course it had to be the Wayne's. Wait, is that a mini Bruce?