I sat in the station, hands cuffed, eyes down. Six hours I'd been there. Six hours they'd kept me sat here, like a common criminal, sat in the same chair in the same room. All I wanted was to help people. Why couldn't they see that?
"So… Mr Douglas". The woman sat opposite me – the cop – was writing things down. "You're to be released pending trial. It'll just take a minute to process you". She kept her face straight, but she was laughing at me. They were all laughing at me. They hadn't even let me get changed. I'd been sat in the middle of that crowded room in full costume since I got here, and every single person who'd walked past had been laughing.
The handcuffs were unlocked – mercifully. I rubbed my wrists where they'd left deep marks. I looked at the woman, and I thought back to when he was sitting on the other side… when I was just like her. I'd turn my nose up at the freaks and the lowlifes that passed by, and I enjoyed tormenting them. Enjoyed feeling so superior. It wasn't until after I left that I saw how pathetic I'd been – I looked down on those people, but I was no better.
We're trying to help you… Those words were going round and round in my head. How pathetic I had sounded, as though I was pleading with him… for what? For approval? In my head I'd had dreams of him joining our team… Anton, me and the Batman, all fighting Gotham's criminals together. Now that I look back on it, I feel so embarrassed… it was like a child's wet dream. I was no superhero. I was a fat, middle aged man in… hockey pads. I was lucky that I hadn't been killed that night.
I stumbled out of the police station, trying my best to ignore the people looking at me and laughing. I let my arms hang limply by my side, and I kept my eyes lowered. I thanked whatever gods were up there that my apartment was close by – at least I didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of walking through the middle of the city dressed in a Batman outfit for too long.
I shoved open the door to my apartment, walked in and collapsed on the couch. I pushed myself into the cushion, wanting it to swallow me up completely.
When Anton had come up with the idea to get a bunch of guys together and go out and fight crime, I knew it was stupid. Sure, I used to be a cop, but I was never a hero. I used to walk around the city doing my best to keep my head down. The small stuff, fine, I'd deal with that… but, I'm ashamed to say, I spent most of my time trying to avoid anything dangerous.
But Anton had this… crazy idea in his head, and he thought that, because I used to be a cop, I'd be the perfect person to lead the team. To give them the benefits of my experience. And my ego overrode my common sense. Why can't I lead them, I'd thought. Why is he the only one who's allowed to put his life in danger every night? What's the difference between him and me?
His voice echoes in my head now, answering that very same question. I'm not wearing hockey pads…
I buried my head in my couch and cried myself to sleep.
