Sometimes they change:
Written by: Fighter1357
Published: June 17, 2012
Written for: Written for God my father. Simply an idea I had. True story.
Setting: During Season 1
A/N: Alright, so this is a fic... has to do with religion; now, if you are still reading this A/N after that please read the story. It's short and of you don't like to ahead and flame, I don't care. this was written on my iPod so if you notice any mistakes, please forgive me. Thanks.
Robin walked the halls of the prison.
His face was that of no emotion, one of pure simplicity. His face remained impassive and his fingers two twitched toward his belt out of habit. He glanced at the bars that contained murderers, theifs, and rapists. People who had done wrong and had used up their second chance.
They sneered at him as he passed, spat as if he was the same as them. In some cases he was; he was human, just like them. He sighed and continued walking down the hall that seemed to stretch forever. His normal chatty demeanor had been abandoned outside with sane.
Eventually he stopped and turned to stare at the steel door. Having gotten passed the metal cages he came to where the prisoners were contained inside cells of steel and iron. Some banged on the doors; they yelled for him to come and fight. He frowned and turned away, ignoring them as their screams turned to pleas for freedom.
A man appeared at the window Robin had stopped at. The man had murdered two people at a store; simply shooting them with no reason. Robin had been the one to get him.
He'd been the one to stick him in the slammer, he had been disgusted with the man. He took those people away from their families without a second thought and yet...
He trusted this man like no other. Except for Bruce, of course.
The prison guard moved forward and slipped a key card through the slot. The door clicked and Robin opened it and slipped in, nodding a thanks toward the guard. The man stood opposite from the thirteen year old.
"Robin," he said, "Nice to see you. How's Batman?"
"Good," he replied curtly, eyes behind the domino mask darted around the room. He noticed the mans shoes. The tops of his chucks that were obviously given to him were scruffy, torn and ragged; his socks peeped through them. The sides, however, of his shoes looked new and white and clean, like he hadn't worn them for even a day. And then he noticed he bible.
It lay by the brownish white pillow on a cot. It's pages were bent and the cover was out of shape but it looked used. He glanced down at the mans shoes again.
"Thats good," the man replied.
It meant he was praying. Getting down on his knees and reading over that bible and praying. A man, a murderer, was in prison; he should have been bitter and angry but instead he had kind eyes that showed regret. Instead he was spending most likely hours at a time reading this bible.
He smiled and glanced at the man.
Two months later
He'd visited a few more times and each time he new he could trust the man. He had long talks with him about the outside world. Sometimes they would talk about what he had done.
The man regretted it. He told Robin that he was lucky. He had survived in this crazy world and they hadn't just because he'd shot them. He wished he could go back and save them; spiritually and figuratively. He was lucky to be saved. He told Robin when he got out, he would help others. He would go and save them. Join a church. The amount of compassion in his voice...
Sometimes they do change.
Anyone of you who are reading Capta, I'm updating either today or tomorrow.
I am proud of this, despite what some of you might say to me and I'm glad I out it out here. I hope those of you who liked it will tell me.
When I said 'true story' up there at the beginning I meant it, this was an experience that happened from my speaker at my camp.
Thank you and please review.