When the Shadows Reach Gotham
(rough draft)
A crossover fanfic by Raberba girl
Inspired by my friend breezy-cheezy (Medli45)
Summary: Riku Crescent & Timothy Drake first meet as two of the few children in attendance at a Wayne gala. Years later, Red Robin encounters a young man in a black coat who seems strangely familiar beneath the hood and the blindfold.
A/N: This fic uses my "Crescent family" headcanon for Riku. See my fanfiction index ( indexkhcanon/ ) for those stories, they're pretty much any of the ones where Riku's a major character and not shipped with Naminé. The only difference here is that the Crescents live in Midgar, rather than Destiny Islands like they do in my KH fics.
(To those who are worried, the "training" was not very hands-on and basically consisted of flirting lessons, plus some lectures and reading material that started out awkward and then got progressively more confusing and boring.)
Part 1 (Chapter 1.1)
Eight-year-old Riku had heard horror stories about Gotham being one of the worst cities in the multiverse, but it didn't seem that bad, though that might have well been because he and his father never actually entered the city limits.
Sephiroth's ship landed in a field of wildflowers outside of town, near the wealthy neighborhood where the gala was to be held. Riku had hoped that Zack would be able to come, but the SOLDIER had been busy with other duties. One of the people who'd been assigned to escort them instead was, luckily, nice enough to help Riku with his tie, so he was able to emerge from his quarters without worrying as much about being criticized for looking less than perfect.
He waited for about an hour while his father worked at the ship's computers. Then Sephiroth sent the system into hibernation, rose to his feet, and strode toward the exit hatch without even looking around for his son. "We're leaving, Riku."
"Yes, Father," Riku said, both he and their honor guard scrambling to catch up.
Once the car started moving, Sephiroth surveyed the boy. "What is your mission for tonight, Riku?" he prompted.
"Get Bruce Wayne to agree to the Mako Deal," Riku recited obediently. He knew that was the only reason he had been brought along. As Sephiroth's youngest son, he stood the best chance of manipulating Wayne, who was known to have a soft spot for children.
"Don't fail me, Riku."
"I won't, Father," Riku replied, because there was no other acceptable response, even though anxiety was twisting in his stomach. He didn't feel prepared for this, and the training he'd undergone for this particular mission had only made it worse. Even if the uglier rumors about why an unmarried billionaire had taken two orphaned boys into his home were false, Riku was still not at all confident in his acting skills. If he was very lucky, Wayne would not be a pervert and would find Riku's natural bluntness more charming than an awkward attempt at a cutsey act.
Riku was not a particularly lucky person, though.
The rest of the drive was silent, but short. Wayne Manor was already lit up and bustling, the gates open and cars filling the long drive as chauffeurs and various other staff members went about their work or waited for their employers to call on their services.
Sephiroth stepped out of the car like a king and glided up the front steps, Riku trying hard to look graceful as he struggled to keep up. The front door was opened by a smiling man in a uniform, and then came the shine and polish of the elegant front hall, with a glimmering chandelier overhead and live orchestral music wafting through the air along with the chatter and laughter of all the guests.
Riku tried to keep close enough to his father to not lose him without being outright clingy or otherwise undignified. It was a little difficult because, even though people tended to shy away from Sephiroth's intimidating presence, Riku was more vulnerable.
"Oooohh, who is this little cutie?" one woman cooed, bending down to pinch his cheeks.
Riku jerked his head back and injected as much frost into his voice as he could. "Pardon me, madam."
"Is that your daddy there?"
"Yes, Sephiroth Crescent of Shinra is my father."
"How delightful! Come over here so I can introduce you to my daughter!"
After Riku had been shown to a teenage girl who'd licked her lips and half-playfully told him to call her in about six or seven years, he managed to escape and tried to look for his father. Instead, he was waylaid again and again, sometimes by entire groups of people, who seemed either enchanted or predatory because of his young age, ethereal good looks, and mature manner.
"Such lovely hair! What an unusual color, and the texture... Forgive me for prying, but are you a meta?"
"A little bit," Riku said uncomfortably. They didn't use the term 'metahuman' back in Gaia, and even if they did, he wasn't sure he qualified. His parents certainly did, but he didn't seem to have inherited any of their extraordinary traits other than sheer, useless beauty from his father.
"Ooohh, what's your power?"
Riku didn't have any powers like the superheroes in this world did (except that his hair never tangled or looked greasy, if you could call something like that a 'power'), but one of his parents' rules was to hide all potential weaknesses. He smiled coolly. "Let's hope you never have to find out, ma'am."
The woman jerked back with a squealing, slightly nervous laugh.
"If you'll excuse me," Riku said, and made his escape.
o.o.o.o.o
Tim probably wasn't supposed to be at the gala, because his parents had canceled at the last minute and were now on a flight to Cairo. But they had RSVP'd, and he'd unpinned the invitation from the bulletin board to take with him as proof of entry, and he was experienced enough now to dress himself presentably without help, and it would be so lonely being alone all night otherwise, especially watching Wayne Manor aglow with festivity in the distance... There would be a lot of temporary staff, too. If Tim played his cards right, he'd be able to get into the party, maybe even find a hot meal, without anyone realizing he was there unaccompanied.
He put boots and a raincoat on to protect his fancy suit during the long walk in the dark, and carried his dress shoes. Once near the turn of the road that led to Wayne Manor, he stashed his protective gear under a bush, then walked through the open front gates. With so many hired servants milling around the yard, he was able to blend in until a large group of guests started making their way to the front doors. Tim casually fell in with them, and didn't even have to show his parents' invitation to be admitted into the house.
Once inside, he was able to break away and disappear into the background, which he was really good at. He spent a while sitting behind a couch on the edge of the ballroom, just listening to the musicians play and basking in the company of people. When he got hungry, he nibbled at a few of the gross hors d'oeuvres, but knew that there would be more appetizing food in the kitchen. It wasn't difficult to slip inside, where a team of caterers was at work.
Tim sidled to the refrigerator and found a wealth of leftovers in neatly stacked and labeled glass containers. He took one of (likely homemade) macaroni and cheese, went over to the microwave, pried off the plastic lid, and put the rest of the container inside to cook.
While he was waiting for the microwave to finish, a thin young man in an apron hurried over to him. "Are you Jason Wayne?"
Since Tim had no business being in Bruce Wayne's kitchen otherwise and also happened to bear a passing resemblance to both of the billionaire's wards, he said, "Yes."
"Could you run and get your dad? We have a little situation here."
"Uh...okay." Tim turned and nearly ran right into someone. He paled when he realized that it was Bruce Wayne's butler, who had probably overheard and would know that Tim was certainly not Jason Wayne.
The gentleman, however, simply raised an eyebrow at him, then stealthily slipped him a cookie as he stepped past the boy and addressed the young caterer. "Master Wayne is occupied at the moment, but I am his butler and can address any concern you may have."
"Uh- All right, well, we made, I made a little mistake with the soup, and I was wondering..."
Tim gently backed away, got his macaroni out of the microwave, and escaped along with a spoon, a napkin, and the cookie.
o.o.o.o.o
Social events were always bad enough, but Bruce particularly hated hosting them. So many strangers and unpleasant acquaintances swarming over his home, threatening his secrets and wearing at his patience; worries about how Jason was handling it, worries about how the city would be faring in Batman's absence...
Every once in a while, he would run into someone with a pleasant personality and intellectually stimulating conversation, but that was pretty rare. In fact, the one time it had happened in the past six months, the pleasant and stimulating person in question had been seven years old at the time.
Timothy Drake would be eight now. His parents were supposed to have come to this event, but had later backed out, which was a shame, since Bruce had rather looked forward to seeing Tim again. The boy was much too serious, and Bruce had come so close to getting the child to smile last time when he'd started performing magic tricks. He hadn't quite managed it, and he'd hoped for a second chance tonight. If nothing else, he could have sent the boy off to play video games with Jason and give both of them a break from a party they surely found even more tiresome than he did.
"Hey, Dad, I told Victoria Winchester to find somewhere else to make out with her bodyguard, but she called me swear jar names kept making out with him, anyway, and I was gonna punch them both but I don't want to get benched tonight, so I'm telling you, but if you don't get them out of the library, then I'm gonna go back and punch them after all, and then I'll still go out tonight, even if you bench me. So this is me asking you nicely to please get Victoria Winchester and her man toy out of the library, or I'll do it myself." Jason put his hands on his hips and gave Bruce a challenging look.
"I'll take care of it," Bruce promised.
He did, mostly by sweeping into the library and being so obnoxious that the nineteen-year-old heiress pouted and stormed off, dragging her bodyguard behind her. Jason blew out a relieved breath and dropped onto his favorite couch with the three books he was reading.
Bruce was about to leave his son to it when something caught his eye. It wasn't much, an ordinary person would probably have missed it, but the pattern on that inch of fabric sticking out from behind the opposite couch matched the napkins Alfred had chosen for this event. Bruce went to look, wondering if Victoria Winchester wasn't the only guest who had chosen to wander outside the unspoken bounds of the party.
What he was expecting to see was a plate and napkin carelessly tossed on the floor rather than left in a more appropriate place or given to a waiter. What he was not expecting to see was an eight-year-old boy staring up at him like a caught mouse.
"Why, it's Timmy Drake!" Bruce exclaimed, the surprise in his Brucie tone genuine. "Ha ha! Looking for a quiet spot to relax in, chum?"
"I- Yes," the child said sheepishly, clutching a mostly-empty Pyrex container to his chest. Bruce had to suppress his smile at the idea of Tim boldly waltzing into his kitchen to appropriate food out of the refrigerator as if he lived here.
"I thought your parents couldn't make it tonight!"
"Uh...they...changed their minds?" The boy cleared his throat. "They changed their minds. They're around...somewhere. There's a lot of people here, you might not even see them."
"Glad to hear they made it after all!" By this time, Jason had scrambled to the couch and was now peering down at Tim in curiosity. "Hey!" Bruce said, "Wanna see a magic trick?"
Jason rolled his eyes, but Tim stood up eagerly, his face intent with interest despite the lack of a smile. "Yes, please."
"All-righty, then. Prepare to be amazed!"
Tim still did not smile, but he watched very closely and asked for several repeats of the trick. At last, he put his hands on his head and exclaimed, "I know the card is in your sleeve, I know you're waving your hands as a diversion, I know it and I'm watching, but I still can't see you pull it out of your sleeve!" He lowered his hands and told Bruce seriously, "You're very good."
"Why, thank you, Timmy," Bruce said, as Jason snorted in amusement.
Alfred soon came in with a pointed remark about neglected guests, so Bruce returned to the party. Minutes later, he was approached by Sephiroth Crescent, a man with frosty green eyes and improbably long silver hair who practically screamed 'meta.' Bruce had a hard time keeping up the Brucie act as he smiled brightly through gritted teeth and gripped a hand that looked smooth and refined but sported subtle calluses that indicated frequent use of a sword.
"Crescent, you say? Give me a minute, give me a minute, it's on the tip of my tongue," Brucie insisted, snapping his fingers as if trying to jog his memory even though he knew perfectly well that this was Shinra's latest attempt to make him cave on the Mako Deal.
"I'm a visitor from Gaia. I know you find it in your best interests to trust your company with more capable men," Sephiroth said, "but perhaps Mr. Lucius Fox might have mentioned my employer's name to you once or twice?"
"Gaia, Gaia, that's that place where they use-? OH! Shinra, that's the one!" Bruce clapped his hands together, acting very pleased with himself for finally 'remembering.' "So you're this Sephiroth fellow I've heard tell about! Well, happy to have you here, buddy. Oh, waiter! C'mere; Crescent, you've gotta try-"
"No, thank you," the man said, waving the waiter away. "Mr. Wayne, there is someone I'd like you to meet." He turned and glided through the crowd like a fish through water, and Bruce was so busy trying not to glare at the meta's back that he didn't notice the child until Sephiroth turned to face him again. "Mr. Wayne, this is my son, Riku."
Bruce stared down at the kid, who had a slightly warmer, more accessible version of his father's elegant, fey beauty. "Hello, Mr. Wayne," the boy said politely.
Bruce remembered to be Brucie. "Well, hello there, chum! Call me Bruce; nice to meet you!"
"It's a pleasure."
"Riku, keep Mr. Wayne amused," Sephiroth commanded. "I'll be back for you later." He glided away.
Riku looked up with slight apprehension in his eyes, and Bruce made an effort to conceal his sudden rage. Though it wasn't clear exactly what the boy's instructions or his father's expectations were, it still angered Bruce to see a child being used as a tool for business dealings at all. "I bet you're pretty bored at this stuffy grown-up party, huh. Oh, I know! The Drake boy's here, too; Tim Drake, he's just about your age! Let me introduce you to each other."
TBC
A/N: This story was inspired by my friend Breezy, who initially drew a crossover sketch of baby Riku & Tim meeting at a boring grown-up party, then went on to draw more. X3 Both of us are excited about the idea, so I'm taking off two weeks from my project The Birds Who Smile to write it. :)
And to clarify again, Sephiroth isn't expecting any son of his to be demeaned by actually subjecting himself to a human with gross intentions, but he is expecting an eight-year-old to masterfully manipulate an adult in order to achieve a mission objective. So, like, it's still abusive, but not as abusive as it might seem.
The first chapter of this fic ended up being over 7,000 words, which is way too long for my taste, so I split it into three parts. I have no idea how long the story will be after that; hopefully not more than, like, five chapters! I need to get back to TBWS fairly soon. X''D
