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P.S. I am not a doctor, and all mentions of therapy and amnesia along with medical reasons for them given are not professional. I'm mostly just using Wikipedia and a few other sites.
He doesn't remember his real name.
He does remember waking up alone in the dark.
(It's cold and loud. So loud it makes his head pound and his ears ring. He doesn't remember how he ended up on the unforgiving ground, pebbles digging into his arms.)
He isn't alone in the dark long.
("Are you alright? How did you get here? Where are your parents?"
"Um, I don't-I don't-"
"Did you hit your head? I'm calling 911. What's your name?"
"I-I-I don't know. I don't know my name!")
("Dissociative amnesia," a doctor tells the dark-skinned woman who found him. "He's been abused. We're not sure what caused it and we're still determining whether it's generalized or fugue. The current theory is that it was the abuse."
"That poor child," the woman whispers in horror. "But how could abuse…"
"Stress. If he had a concussion I would say that was the cause, but we can't find any sign of this. We suspect he was in a stressful situation of some sort and his mind couldn't take it, so he… forgot. Being abused for such a long time, as we suspect, can be stressful."
"Is there any way to help him?"
"The memories might come back on their own or they might get triggered somehow. Some people dealing with amnesia will undergo therapy." The doctor shrugs. "They might come back, they might not. It depends on the person.")
Awiti Robertson is a woman with long dreadlocks and a kind heart. She's bringing the trash out behind her Metropolis apartment when she finds him. She rides all the way to the hospital in the ambulance with him, holding his hand and stroking his hair.
("I promise you'll be okay. I'll stay here until you are.")
(She does leave, but only for a moment, to ask the doctors why he can't remember anything. She comes back, and doesn't seem to realize that he heard her asking the doctor why he can't remember.)
(Why doesn't the fact he can't remember anything bother him more?)
Three weeks after he's found, two after he's put into a foster home, Awiti comes to visit him.
("Do you remember meeting me?" she asks. "Awiti Robertson?"
"Yes. You found me," he says. "Thank you."
She laughs. Her smile is nice; it makes him want to smile too.
"I'm glad I did. This is my husband." She tugs a tall man forward.
The man has red hair cropped close to his head, pale skin, freckles, and a lumpy nose. He also has a nice smile.
"My name is Chris Robertson."
He takes Chris' hand. "It's very nice to meet you."
He waits after shaking Chris' hand. Both husband and wife are looking at him, then at each other. They're nervous.
(How does he know that?)
"We're wondering, we have two children, and our oldest recently moved out," Awiti begins.
"And we're wondering if you might want to come live with us," Chris finishes.)
(Later, a full year later, he asks Awiti why they chose him.)
(She tells him that he chose them.)
It's almost been three years to that first day, in the alley. He's thirteen now, well, that's what everyone thinks. He's around ten when they find him, so everyone calls that day his birthday. He may be younger though; he's pretty short.
("So, squirt, you think you can beat me at soccer?" Warner teases.
"-tt- Of course. I'm way better than you."
"Is that so? Prove it.")
(Ohh, you're are so cute! I can't believe that you're my new brother!"
"I'm not cute." He scowls.
"Yeah, Trini, he's 'not cute'," Warner mocks, puffing his cheeks up.
"Awiti!"
"Mom!"
A sigh sounds from the kitchen. "Trini, you're an eighteen-year-old college student. Don't goad your brothers, new one included. Warner, don't goad Trini or Mikey. Mikey, don't be so sensitive."
"Mom! Take all the fun away, why don't you?" Trini whines.
"I wasn't!" Warner yells.
"I am not sensitive," he spits.
"And I'm a veggie burrito," Awiti mutters from the kitchen.)
It works for him though, being short. People will miss him or underestimate him. That's what makes soccer so fun. He's the shortest kid on his middle school team. When he puts on a burst of speed and steals the ball, people don't expect it.
("Mikey, dude, nice play," Todd says, waving his arms back and forth in excitement.
"Yeah. We've got this game in the bag!" Richie exclaims. "They didn't even see you coming!")
The point is that he's happy. He may not remember his old life, but he has a new one now. He has a new name.
("I still can't remember my name," he laments after living with Awiti, Chris, and Warner for a week.
"Well, why don't you choose a new one then, for now? If you remember your old one, then we can start using that," Warner says. He uses all the logic of a thirteen-year-old who sees the world in ways adults can't and puts down his X-box controller.
"What about your parents? They said they wanted me to wait to choose a new name until they're sure we won't find my old one," he says. He raises an eyebrow.
"They don't have to know." Warner shrugs. "I mean, they're still trying to find who you used to be, right? The socials worker said they had to before adopting you. Once you're adopted you'll need a name anyways. Why not choose it now, and it can be our secret?"
"I guess," he says, unsure. "What should it be then?"
"I've always wanted a little brother named Mikey."
"I like that, Mikey I mean. It sounds right."
"Well then, nice to meet you, Mikey." Warner holds out a hand.
"Nice to meet you too, Warner.")
He has a new family.
(Mikey, you can call Awiti and me mom and dad if you want," Chris says while they're trying to fix the TV. Mikey's discovered he's very good at fixing stuff.
"I-I don't know."
"It's fine. Besides, you've lived with us for a year; we may as well let you."
"Thank you, dad." The words feel awkward on his tongue.)
(By the end of the week he's calling Awiti and Chris mom and dad with ease.)
("I'm almost sad I go to college in Gotham," Trini says before leaving for the beginning of a new school year. "I'm going to miss my brothers."
Mikey's heart swells at the inclusion in this.)
("Do you wanna play soccer?"
"I don't know how," Mikey admits.
"I'll teach you. What are big brothers for if not to whip their little brother's butt in spots?")
And he doubts his memories are coming back. Besides, why would he want them to? His biological family let him somehow lose all his memories and wake up in an alley at the age of ten. Why would he want to remember them?
That logic doesn't stop him from getting forced to go to a therapist a few weeks before the adoption goes through. Back two and a half years ago.
("It's very nice to meet you. My name is Dr. Lillian Breterr."
He shakes her hand and takes a seat on the opposite chair. "It's nice to meet you too."
"So, memory problems?"
He nods.
"Is there anything before waking up in the alley? A person? A voice? A color? Even a smell?
He shakes his head.
"Are you sure?"
He begins to shake his head again but stops. "There is something."
"What do you remember?"
He closes his eyes and tries to keep the noise out of his head. "Laughter. Horrible laughter.")
He doesn't like going, and after he's theirs, the Robertsons don't make him.
Now he spends most of his time practicing soccer with Warner. He plays video games with friends and reads comics on his own.
(He doesn't like fighting, like seeing people fight. It unsettles him, but not for a reason it should. Fighting makes him happy.)
(That scares him.)
Another favorite pastime is going up onto the roof of their apartment building. He and Warner spend the whole time trying to spot Superman. They've seen him twice so far.
(Warner is three years older than Mikey, but he still hangs out with him. It's nice, having an older brother like this. So doting.)
(Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mikey swears he knew someone like Warner, from before. He's not sure whether to trust his instincts or not. If his real family didn't notice him go missing in an alley that means he can't have had anyone like Warner in his life.)
(Right?)
They talk about superheroes. Mikey thinks Superman is the best, but Warner argues it's Batman.
(What a silly idea.)
(Batman is scary.)
Once when they're on the roof doing homework, Mikey starts to doodle on the edge of his notebook.
(He's very good at drawing a dark, imposing figure of Batman.)
(Warner keeps the doodle pinned up in his room.)
He likes to draw, but not scary figures in shadows. He likes to draw flowers or people with wide smiles.
(If some of the smiles he draws turn out a little too stretched or blood colored, no one notices.)
He doesn't like big dogs. One comes up to him once at a friends house, and he almost starts to cry.
(They unsettle him, in the same way that fighting does.)
He doesn't like cats either. The ones littering the streets stare at him too long, like they're imploring him to give them something he can't.
(Was it a name? A home? Food?)
He keeps away from animals in general. They make him nervous.
(A lot of things do.)
It's a little surprising that so many things make his skin crawl with apprehension. With familiarity. The feel of motor oil on his fingers. The click of computer keys getting hit in quick succession. The smell of coffee lingering on clothing.
(He tends to avoid it all.)
He's happy with his life though. The amnesia will stay, and he's okay with that. He'll avoid things, and that's okay too.
(He's happy to go through his life not knowing who he used to be. Not knowing his family didn't let him go missing. Not knowing they didn't abuse him. Not knowing that he's a missing child. Not knowing he's dumped to die in that alley.)
(Not knowing he was once Damian Wayne. Not knowing it's the Joker's fault he's here, doesn't remember anything.)
(In Gotham, his family mourns him. They will forever.)