When Bruce fell into the forgotten well as a child, the bats terrified him. But the most terrifying part was Acacius becoming a bat, flying around him and warding off the others. Inside the swarm there were long moments when Bruce lost track of which bat was Acacius, and in those moments he felt completely isolated. Acacius stayed a bat, dipping in and out of Bruce's recognition, until help came.

As his father carried him back to the manor, Bruce cupped Acacius, now a mouse, in his hands and whispered to him, begged him to never again become a bat.

Acacius looked at him for a long moment, blinked, and then huddled against his chest. "I'll try, Bruce," he whispered. "I promise I'll try."


After the pearls fell and the heavy footsteps faded, while the red pools grew and the daemons dissolved, he clung to his parents hands. He sat there and wished they would wake up and take him away from this horrifying, lonely place once again. But they didn't wake up. The world had stopped making sense, Bruce realized, just as it did years ago when he couldn't find Acacius. Only this time it wasn't going to start making sense again. Where was Acacius now? Bruce wondered dimly. Had he disappeared again, hiding as a bat? Bruce could faintly hear bat wings as he knelt over them, but dismissed the sound as a memory.

"You aren't alone, Bruce," came a whisper, and the flutter of settling wings. There was a weight on his shirt, and small, sharp claws piercing through to scratch his skin. Slowly he brought a hand up and laid it against the weight on his shirt. There was soft fur, and Bruce glanced down to see a bat clinging to him. Dimly he noticed the bat was covered in blood as well now, from where it had stained his hands as he clung to his parents.

"You're a bat," he whispered, hand frozen on the creature.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," Acacius replied.

"No, it's not your fault. I wasn't alone in the well. You were there, protecting me, even if I couldn't see you. Now you're still here, and I can learn to see you. We'll be alone together."


Acacius clung to the roof of the car and watched Bruce disguise himself. A minute before Bruce was done, he rolled down the window, and Acacius slipped out into the sky. Their tether had stretched as a result of their training abroad, until they could be miles apart without feeling any effects. There were no limits on their lack of proximity now, according to the one who showed them the rite. So Acacius rose on the wind until he could see all of Crime Alley, then swooped down and around Bruce as he exited the car, memorizing his appearance for the night. Bruce did not react to him, or track him with his eyes, but Acacius knew Bruce knew exactly where he was. That was the first promise Bruce had made good on, to be able to see his soul in the darkness. Now he would fight crime, and bring reason back to the world. Acacius knew it would never end, but Bruce was determined. He was determined.


After the fight, Acacius watched with concern as Bruce stumbled out of the car and towards the door. He managed to open it and Acacius started to swoop through when Bruce shut it. Acacius reared back, flapping his wings to stop his momentum and keep from crashing into the door. Being away from Bruce would not harm either of them like it would most people, of course, but Bruce was hurt, and Acacius needed to get to him to make sure he got proper medical attention.

So he turned, and flew around the manor until he spotted Bruce through the window in the study. He rammed the glass. It was old, and shattered easily. They would have to rectify that throughout the manor, Acacius thought absently, as he landed on a bust of Bruce's father and studied his patient. Bruce was bleeding badly, and needed immediate medical aid. He had tried to hide it on the drive back to the manor, but Acacius had deduced as much anyway. What drew his attention was the twitching of Bruce's left hand, which held a bell.

Acacius sighed, and with a flutter of wings he crossed to the desk and shook the bell in Bruce's grasp, ringing it until Alfred and Aldreda arrived. "Help him," Acacius said to the man and English pointer daemon. "Our work is just beginning."


A/N: While Batman Begins, Batman: Year One, and His Dark Materials do not belong to me, I have always questioned the bat breaking into Bruce's study when it does. It just seems a little outside the realm of the plausible. This is my explanation on the why. Also, thanks to Blind Author of Sherlock fandom for providing the original spark for this fic.

These are going to be a series of one-shots, each focusing on one of the Bats' daemons settling. They're not going to be in any sort of chronological order, and will probably appear as I finish them and feel like posting. Please review!