Lover- This is my first Batman fanfic, and I wanna see how I do on it! Critisism is also appreciated since I want to know what I need more of!
R & R PEOPLE!
"If you don't even believe in yourself, how do you expect others to believe in you?" -Angelodevil
Prologue: A Resolution
Dr. Crane had been released from Arkham for a year now. The orderly's of the asylum had seen fit for him to run around Gotham like the rat they had come to see him as. Much like the Batman, only he didn't go gallivanting around in a cape and rescuing innocents.
He really did seem to be getting the short end of the stick. He had no job, no money, and certainly no reputation to uphold. His health was on a steady decline, seeming to grow from skinny to thin in just a couple of months. It wasn't his fault. He just didn't seem to be able to keep any job he had for more than a couple of days. He had run out of ideas.
The doctors had christened him with the name "Stick", and he, begrudgingly, had accepted it. He had no choice to. It's not like he could've gassed them anymore. Nobody was afraid of him, not like they had been, and they had no reason to be. What could he, a thin man with no money, do to them? Nothing, that's what.
No, if he had the same amount of money Bruce Wayne did, he had no doubt that he would be straight back to his old ways. The landlord of the old apartment complex in the middle of the slums had accepted him, and he had moved in. The only thing that adorned the small abode was a small futon he slept on, a kitchen table, the regular kitchen appliances, and the bathroom. It was in his contract when he was released.
No touching other's water or food, no driving, and certainly no private time. That was for when he was on the job, anyway. That infuriating Rachel Dawes had seen that he had no pleasantries in his less than meaningful life. She was really annoying that one. Just because he had gassed her, she had taken everything he did personally. She was the thorn in his side, the constant 'checking up' on him was nothing more than to keep him out of trouble, and he knew it. It couldn't be avoided.
The brunette sat back into the run-down, black futon and opened the morning's paper. Even though it was late at night, he still saw the need to catch up on the news before bedtime. Call it a…..habit, if you will. As he flipped through the pages absent-mindedly, he stopped on a page that held some appeal to him.
"TWELVE CRIMINALS PUT TO JUSTICE ON MAIN AVENUE" was what the headline read, and he quickly scanned down the paragraphs. Drug-runners busted, taken into custody, same thing. It was the small word that caught his attention.
The word read Batman.