I sat up in the dark.
3 months I'd been here. That's 12 weeks. 84 days. 2016 hours. And I didn't want to spend another minute.
Wayne Manor is big. Too big. If someone came after you in this house you could never get away. The room I slept in was huge. It had a balcony and its own bathroom with a bath in it, not just a shower, toilet and sink. It even had a towel warmer for god's sake!
I know, I should have considered myself lucky. But I hate money. And I do mean hate. I'm not one of those hypocrites who say money is the root of all evil and then becomes overjoyed at their tax return. I want stuff but if you bought me something and I didn't feel like I'd worked enough for it I'll shove it back in your face. I'm not kidding. I'll probably be angry with you. So don't do me any favours. I'm a self-righteous martyr b----er, the point is I won't thank you.
Anyway, I hated the place; big and cold and easy to get lost in.
So I sat in my bed waiting for the sun to come up and hopefully make it warmer. Today was the big day. The day I got out.
Mr. Wayne had explained to me that he wanted to help me get better from my illness, but he also wanted me to be a normal kid. He said that when he adopted Dick, Dick felt uncomfortable with the change from Romany circus kid to ward of the Gotham upper class. But he and Dick couldn't live without each other now, so he wasn't helping him find another home. Wayne Manor was his home.
Gee, He's subtle.
That was basically saying "I've already got one and he's far less antisocial than you, bye". Not that I blame Dick or am even envious of him. The poor kid- stuck out there under Bruce's wing with no help for his trouble. He's gonna have to develop a really thick skin to deal with that totalitarian ass.
So now I was getting out. Leaving. Back to the kids home and then the streets as soon as I got away. Don't know what I was going to do after that. But one step at a time.
I opened my room's curtains and walked downstairs. Bruce had told me to pack. I didn't really see the point. The only clothes I had were PJ's. Over the past three months I hadn't needed anything else. But I could pack after Alfred made breakfast. That was one thing I liked. Alfred made me breakfast.
My parents used to do that for me when I was little. Well, my dad really.
I'd get out my breakfast cereal and he'd get the milk and honey. I was too little to lift the big 3-litre bottle of milk without spilling it, so he'd pour it for me and say "Say when." Then he'd warm up a squeezer bottle of honey – the type like a piping bag- and write the words "My Little Princess" on my cereal with honey. Sometimes it wouldn't all fit on the cereal. It'd get on the table and mum would get really mad, even if I cleaned it up. We never stopped doing it though; we just started using a placemat.
There's placemats here too, but none of them have honey on them.
So today my future is looking brighter. I get to have my own life and independence. No disapproving looks for staying up late. No Alfred constantly doing my bidding when I can do it myself. No waking up in the night to stop Dick's night terrors. Just my wits, the street and me.
On second thoughts, most responsible adults would say this would be the best place for me. Not that I could stay here long anyway. Not that I can stay anywhere long. In my short eleven years I have moved house fourteen times – six of those times to other countries. I have been homeless in four different cities. I've been to eight funerals and never been to a wedding or a christening. But if I stay here I'll end up going to three more funerals. I couldn't do that to Dick and Alfred. I'd be severely tempted if it was just Bruce. But he doesn't deserve it, not really. No one does. Except Him. And no. I don't mean the batman.
So I sat down and ate my breakfast, though I was no longer very hungry, I knew I was still desperately underweight. Just as I finished, Dick came running down the stairs. I didn't see him til he wrapped his arms around me and almost pulled me off my chair.
"Master Dick. If you ever slide down that banister again-"
But Alfred was cut off by an unintelligible stream of rapid sounds that came from Dick.
"Whati?" I asked him sleepily.
"Pleasedon'.Pleeease!don'.pleasedon'tgo"
I got the general gist of it.
It took me a second to think of something to say, and to blink away the wet in my eyes. Darn tiredness always made my eyes water.
"Look, you and Bruce – you fit together – your family. Me, I'm just getting in the way. I screw up families." I said. I stood put my plate in the dishwasher and turned away from him. Besides it wasn't my choice, it was Mr. Wayne's, but I wasn't going to tell Dick that and have him mad at Bruce.
Alfred gave me a strange calculating stare
"You won't screw us up. Promise. We wouldn't let you." Pleaded Dick.
"I have to go." I whispered
"But you're my sister. You're family. We love you."
That's when I cracked. I could feel the sobs coming up in my throat. I remember those words, see. They were the last words Isaac ever said to me. Then I kissed him on the forehead and got into the van I was hitchhiking with.
This time I couldn't do that. So I excused myself and headed for the bathroom, where I sat down on the toilet and bawled my eyes out as quietly as I could, so no one would know. I cried for my family that was gone, because of me and because of Him. I cried for Dick who I was leaving behind and would probably grow up to be just as much of a head case and emotional wreck as me and there was nothing I could do about it. I cried because I'd miss Alfred's little touches – like making sure there were always clean towels and toilet paper in the bathroom, and him secretly fluffing my pillow when he thought I was going to bed. I'd kind of miss comforting Dick when he had night terrors. He and Alfred were so friendly to me. They were amazing. I wasn't used to people treating me like that on the streets. But more importantly, with Dick, I wasn't used to being soft; to caring back. But I did. I did this time and I knew now I'd started I'd never stop. So I cried.
Bruce came down into a deathly silent kitchen. There was no breakfast laid out for him, so he supposed Alfred was angry with him. He went to get it himself. Dick was putting the cereal back on the shelf, but he wasn't tall enough.
"Morning, Chum." He said.
Dick didn't answer.
"Let me get that one for you."
He took the cereal to put it back on the shelf.
Dick turned around and kicked him in the kneecap.
"Yeow!" shouted Bruce. He hadn't been expecting that. He'd have quite a bruise in a few hours.
"What was that for?" he asked, but Dick was already pelting away.
Bruce found him in the lounge room after a short search.
"Dick –"
"She doesn't want to go!" shouted Dick "She doesn't want to, I won't let you make her!"
"I'm not stupid, you know," mumbled Dick, "I know it's you that's made the decision. You don't want her"
"She's not like you, Dick."
"Shut up." spat Dick, "You don't even know her. How would you know what she's like?"
"I will not be spoken to that way!" Bruce bellowed
"Or what? You'll send me back to the kid's home too?"
"Dick. Listen; try to understand. I can't look after her. I can barely look after you. How am I meant to find time for her as well? I... I just want it to be us, Ok? I couldn't be batman if i'm expected to be a father to two of you."
"She's not like some coat you bought that didn't fit. You can't go back and ask for a refund. She's a kid." Shouted Dick
"She's like my mum." He whispered
Dick fell silent and stomped from the room.
Bruce sat on the couch with his head in his hands. It wasn't that he hated the girl. It wasn't that at all. He just had no idea how to deal with a preteen girl. He was struggling enough trying to give Dick some form of parenting and he guessed a girl would be far harder. And she wasn't like Dick. Dick was well mannered and didn't speak back to him most of the time. He was always bright and bubbly. He didn't chuck tantrums, well not many – the previous conversation was the only speck on that record. The girl was quiet, brooding, stubborn and cynical from what he knew of her. She behaved ridiculously.
But he still didn't hate her.
There was a polite cough behind.
"A penny for your thoughts, sir?" asked Alfred
Bruce smiled. Alfred knew he hated that question, but this time he felt obliged to answer.
"The girl. I don't know what to do with her. But she can't stay here."
"And pray tell why not, sir?"
"I can't look after her," he said quietly.
"You look after Dick in an excellent fashion."
"No. I don't. I barely see him outside of the cave."
"So long as you always let him know you care, I don't see what else matters. You mean the world to him, sir." Alfred attempted to reassure him.
"I do now, but I won't later. He's just a kid. He doesn't know what he wants yet."
"He certainly wanted young miss Jade to stay."
Bruce sighed.
"I can't do it Alfred. What kind of father am I?"
"If you love your children so much you doubt you are worthy of the task of parenting them, you're already halfway there, sir."
Bruce stood and walked off, digesting Alfred's words instead of breakfast.
"Best not leave Jade waiting by the car too long. She'll catch something in this weather." Said Bruce by way of explanation, heading for the garage.
Alfred scowled. Bruce could feel his fury radiating off of him, even when he put walls between himself and his butler.
Jade was indeed waiting by one of his sports cars. She looked solemn and pale. Her hair was only just beginning to grow back and the scratches the clippers had left on her scalp were still raised. Her leg was still in its brace. It occurred to Bruce she must have been freezing in those clothes. She was in leggings with worn out knees and a short-sleeved t-shirt – the same clothing she'd been wearing on her first day at Wayne Manor.
"C'mon." he said opening the car with his key.
Jade sat stiffly into her seat after putting her suitcase in the miniscule boot. She stared straight ahead most of the trip. When he asked if she wanted the heating on, she just shrugged.
"Don't matter." She said
Uncomfortable silence lapsed again. It was just like the first time they'd been in a car together, only he wasn't bothering with the fop act.
They pulled a left at an intersection.
"Um, East end's that way." She said pointing behind them
Bruce said nothing, ignoring her.
"O-k." Said Jade quietly
They pulled in to Gotham Plaza. Jade paled a little. Bruce knew why. She was remembering the last time she'd been here. It had long since been repaired but there was still the odd bullet hole in the wall. It was a reminder of both their failures.
"So, what ya buying?" asked Jade.
"I'm not buying anything." Bruce answered
"what ya doing then?" she asked
"Does Alfred ever flinch at your grammar?" Said Bruce
"Dunno. Does he ever laugh when he's bringing you a towel in the shower? Or ain't there nothin' to see?"
She looked utterly shocked at what she had just said.
Bruce gave a half smile. She could bite, but she didn't quite have the rhythm in her comebacks yet. They were too long. And she wasn't sure of herself.
"Hmmm, Maybe I should tell him you said that." He remarked with a smirk, playing on her uneasiness. It didn't work.
"Oh, he don't look. Poor baby." She gave a sympathetic look and patted him on the arm in a patronizing way. She must have figured she had nothing to lose.
"That would have been more insulting if you were tall enough to reach my shoulder." He stung back
"Yeah, but unlike you, I can make up for it. I'm allowed to wear my high heels in public."
Okay, maybe he'd underestimated her at this little game.
"So why're we here?" she asked again.
They stopped outside a clothing store.
"Pick a jumper." Said Bruce
"Nuh uh. No way 'm taking no charity. Ya keep your stinking cash." She hissed
"You'll freeze without it. Come on. Don't be so damn proud."
She grabbed a jumper at random and tried it for fit. It was too big for her, but Bruce figured she'd grow into it once she'd been fed up a bit more.
"Now what?" she asked as he paid for her jumper.
"You want pants?"
"Hell no!"
"WATCH the language! No swearing. Lets go grab some food, it's cold out."
They sat down in a café with an open wood fire where you could toast marshmallows.
"What do you want?" asked Bruce
"I'll have a large uncomfortable silence with a side order of guilt tripping and don't forget the fidgeting, awkward sauce."
Despite himself, Bruce gave his half smirk.
"Your grasp of the english grammar has returned."
"Yeah. Just for a working holiday, mind. Its still making up its mind as to whether this is a good place to settle and raise little etiquettes with its girlfriend, Manners, but unfortunately, she hasn't visited me in a long time. Grammar is having too much fun with his kinky mistress – swearing."
He didn't really follow that.
"So what do you want to eat?"
"Do you think they'd roast that toddler for me?" she asked indicating to an infant who was chucking a huge tantrum behind him and causing a lot more moping and wiping up for the wait staff.
"I bags the head." He joked
"You don't want to eat the head, you could have it mounted on the wall of your office. You'd never have a shareholder give you lip again. They'd walk into your office, see a baby's head mounted on the wall behind you and think: don't f-...um mess with this dude."
"Dick was right about you." Said Bruce
"Please don't ruin the conversation by actually talking about something intelligent."
"No. He was right. I didn't know you. I still don't. I've got no right to send you away."
"My sense of humor won you over or is it an excuse to have more high heels close at hand? Feel free to borrow my dresses, but I draw the line at undergarments."
"Jade. I'm not joking. You can stay at Wayne manor if you like."
"You're not just saying that 'cause Alfred's mad at you?"
"No. I'm saying it because I was wrong and they were right."
Jade nodded.
"I'm sorry to say this, but I'm going to be more trouble than you can manage."
"So you won't stay?"
"I'll stay. But feel free to withdraw the offer at any time. Don't feel obligated to keep me. I'm not a good person to be around."
"We'll see. Welcome to the household." He shook her hand.
"Okay, But if I catch you in any of my bras I'll find those nonexistent nads of yours and put an iron to them."
Bruce smirked.
"Who needs your bras? I have access to any supermodel's bedroom I wish."
"Yes. Unfortunately, you don't have access to what's in those bras and undies."
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Touché.
"Now, what do you want to eat?"
"Johnny Depp dipped in chocolate. No, I'll have a double malt chocolate milkshake with cream and a ridiculously large piece of cheesecake that's size will make my arteries plead for mercy. You can have Johnny Depp dipped in chocolate, he likes high heels apparently."
Bruce smirked and ordered himself a salad roll with a side order of risotto.
No, Jade wasn't too bad after all.
I sat and looked at Bruce. Maybe I should have cried for him earlier that day when I was in the bathroom. Maybe I should have cried for him as well. Maybe I could live at Wayne Manor a while longer. But not too long. The longer you stay somewhere the more of a mark you leave on it. And your mark can be traced. I knew my mark was being traced. But I took comfort in that if anywhere was safe from Him, it was Wayne Manor.
Y'see, Alfred said something to me that morning he said; It's going to be okay.
I'd heard it before. I don't know where the cave is, perhaps in those hills I can see from my window. Bruce could be batman, having revealed himself to be smart, and it would explain his nighttime activities. He probably is.
I won't tell him I know. Not yet. I don't want to push my luck, do I?