Disclaimer: I don't own "The Dark Knight"
The next day at school, I was sitting outside for lunch with my friends. It was just too nice a day to eat inside. The sun was shining just the right amount of light upon the city. Almost everyone of the seventh grade class at Gotham City Private was outside, enjoying the day. Ally, Kayla, and I sat on the front steps of the private school eating our lunches. The lunch Alfred packed for me was particularly good: Grilled chicken sandwich, a bag of those kettle cooked potato chips I loved so much, some celery sticks, and bottled water.
As I sat there enjoying my meal, I glanced over at Kayla, who I noticed was glaring at Haley Kingston, who was sitting all the way over on the other side of where we were. Kayla was biting her nails as she glared. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as I chewed my sandwich and nudged Ally beside me before sending a glance over to her cousin. Ally saw what Kayla was doing and frowned.
"Stop that," she scolded softly.
For a moment, Kayla stopped her nail biting and glared at Ally a little.
"I can't help it," she said before starting again.
"Yes you can."
"You know I always bite my nails when I don't get back at someone as evil and nasty as-"
I interrupted Kayla by scowling under my breath, loud enough for both of them to hear.
"We get it," I said, a bit annoyed. "Haley's evil. There should be justice for all of the things she has done. But what you want to do to her isn't justice. It's wrong."
Kayla just looked at me with that glint in her eyes that always meant trouble.
"I prefer to think of it as giving her a taste of her own medicine," she explained, almost laughing a bit.
A scowl escaped my mouth again.
"I give up," I sighed, frustrated. "The only thing that can help her now is a certified therapist!"
"Hey!"
Obviously, Kayla had found my comment a little offending. But I just gave her a scowling look that said that I didn't care at the moment.
"Just stop biting," I practically ordered. "It's a bad habit anyway."
"Oh my gosh, look!" Ally suddenly said, excited as she grabbed my shoulder. "It's him!"
I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Who?" I asked, wondering what the heck she was talking about.
"The guy who dove in to get you out of the pool yesterday," Ally explained. "He just moved here from New York City over the weekend."
I looked in the direction Ally was pointing at and sure enough, there was the guy from yesterday. He was over on the other side of the front of the school, talking with a few other guys in his 8th grade glass. I noticed some girls not too far away from us, including Haley Kingston, eyeing him, obviously finding him attractive. Sure, I admit the guy looks good, but I think the only thing that I found attractive were his eyes…The eyes alone were enough to make me swoon or blush a little, but I won't admit that to anyone. Not even to my friends.
"Who is that guy?" Kayla asked no one in particular, looking at the new student in a dreamy way.
"I don't know," Ally sighed deeply in a similar gaze to her cousin's. "But I think he is one of the hottest guys in the school. Sarah, you are one lucky girl."
I raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"OK," I said slowly. "Define 'lucky'."
"You're the only one out of the three of us he's actually spoken to!" Ally exclaimed in a "duh" tone.
"Yeah," Kayla agreed. "And he's an 8th grader, so that gives you major points."
For a short while, I stared at my friends with silence between us as they waited for me to speak. Then, I took a deep breath, calmly set down the lunch I was eating, and exhaled when I turned to face them more.
"OK," I started. "So, let me get this straight-Your definition of me being lucky is being spoken to by a guy who's a year older than us."
"And hot!" Kayla added. "Don't forget he's hot!"
"You should definitely ask him out," Ally advised.
Ask him out? They were actually serious about this!
"Hmmm," I thought out loud in a sarcastic manner. "That's a good idea except we're too young to date, we don't even know each others names-Not to mention, Bruce will go nuts if I go on a date before I'm even thirteen!"
Ally and Kayla looked at me in a concerned way when I finished. It really wasn't like me to act the way I just did. To tell the truth, I was concerned myself. Before they could ask what was wrong with me, I blamed my short little outburst as a result for not getting enough sleep the night before. After Bruce had sent me to bed last night, assuring me that nothing horrible was going to happen, I discovered later that night that even though his words comforted me a little, they didn't put my mind at rest. In the end, I was able to get about three or four hours of sleep in before it was time to get up.
"What's your problem?" Kayla asked, an eyebrow raised. "You've been acting moody all day."
I looked apologetically to Ally and Kayla, hoping it would melt away the memory of the sarcastic behavior I displayed seconds before.
"I'm sorry, guys," I sighed. "I didn't get enough sleep last night. I've had a lot on my mind."
"Like what?" Ally curiously asked.
As soon as Ally had asked that question, something dark came over my mind-A shadow that made me feel uncomfortable and uncertain of what exactly did haunt me and steal away the comforting hours of sleep.
I don't know what it is that's bothering me and warning me that something terrible was going to happen soon...
But I do know that by the time I do find out what it is, it'll be too late to stop it.
"That's the thing," I finally answered in a low voice. "...I don't know."
After school that day, I was sitting on the front steps of Gotham City Private strapping on my roller blades and getting ready to go home. It was a relief to me that school finally came to an end. I had spent gym class, my last class of the day, far away from the pool and far away from Haley Kingston as much as possible where I would be safe and dry.
A part of me wanted to see the guy from yesterday again, but he wasn't there. Besides, even if I did want to see him again, he probably wouldn't recognize me…
Suddenly, a small noise from my cell-phone pulled me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out of my jacket pocket and looked at the text message Bruce had sent.
At bunker. Meet there.
A small smile appeared on my face when I read the text message. I quickly replied saying that I was on my way and would be there in ten minutes. I tried not to show it to my godfather, but I loved it whenever I was able to go to the Bunker. It was the one place where I felt a bit closer to the Batman than I ever have the past year.
At the mere thought of the Caped Crusader, I was reminded of the batarang that was still hidden safely in my backpack. I still don't know how I'm going to ask Bruce how it got on the balcony outside my room. Confronting him about it seems easier to do in my head compared to reality.
When my roller-blades were finally on, and my helmet fastened on my head, I looked up. Ally, Kayla, and Nathan were by the curb talking while they were waiting for their driver to pick them up. I stood up, and started to roller-blade to them normally so I could say goodbye for the day.
"Sarah, watch out!" I heard Kayla shout.
I was able to heed Kayla's warning in time. Looking to my right, I saw a bunch of books being thrown in my way onto the concrete ground…courtesy of Haley Kingston, who had this look on her face like she was going to enjoy what would possibly happen if I ran into them.
"Whoa!" I tried to get out of the way.
I lost my balance on my roller-blades and wobbled uncontrollably, trying to stable myself so that no one could get hurt, including me.
Unfortunately, that plan didn't do so well.
"Hey!" I ran into somebody.
The next thing that happens…It's…It was just embarrassing, OK? Well, at least, I thought it was embarrassing for me. You might think it's not that big of a deal.
After I had gotten a sense of my surroundings, I noticed that I was lying on top of the guy who got me out of the pool yesterday.
That's right.
Of all the people I had to crash into, it just had to be the one whose eyes just made me feel like anything I would say would be stupid.
For a moment, we just stared at each other…Then I realized my mouth was hanging open like I was some sort of fish, and found my voice.
"Oh my gosh!" I started apologizing as best as I could. "I am very sorry! Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I pushed myself off of him and onto the sidewalk beside him, waiting for him to answer and ignoring the snickers and giggles I would hear from Haley and her groupies. To my surprise, the new guy didn't seem ticked off that I just collided into him. He was actually laughing a bit too.
"Hey, it's OK. I'm fine," the new guy said, smiling a little. "Although I kind of can't say the same for your arm..."
I looked down on my right arm to see blood seeping through the arm of my uniform's white blouse. The deep scratch started to sting when I became aware of it, but I showed no sign of discomfort. He must'veaccidentally scratched it with his fingers when I bumped into him.
"Oh," I waved it off. "That's nothing."
To Bruce and Alfred, a mere scratch wasn't nothing.
I knew that as soon as I got home, Bruce would see that scratch and get all protective if I tell him what happened…
And Alfred won't be too happy either. Blood stains are hard to get out of clothing.
"Here," the new guy stood up, holding out his hand. "Let me help you up."
I took the boy's hand and he helped me up. I started to wobble a bit as I tried to find balance on my roller-blades, but then I was suddenly still. The boy had put a hand on my back to steady me until he was sure that gravity was agreeing with me and that I wouldn't fall again…
…Is it wrong to say that I didn't want that hand to move?
Oh my gosh, what is going on with me?
Before I could allow myself to blush, I decided to thank him again.
"Thanks," I smiled.
"Anytime," he smiled back.
Dang! Why does that smile make me smile more? There was something about this guy that made me feel…light, I don't know what the word is. Happy, maybe? I just don't know…
OK, I just realized that a whole minute went by of me and this guy staring at each other for no apparent reason, so I decided to tell him who I was.
"I'm Sarah, by the way," I introduced myself, holding out my hand. "Sarah Chante."
"Tyler Jamestown," he introduced himself, putting his hand in mine. "I just moved here from New York City. They call you Princess, right?"
Wow, he had such soft hands…Wait, back up here. Did he just ask me if I was called "Princess"? Like some sort of nickname?
"No," I almost laughed. "Why would I be called that?"
"My friend, Haley," he explained. "She told me that was your nickname."
...OK.
Hold it right there! Stop the presses! Stop doing whatever the heck it is you're doing and make sure if I heard this right:
He just used the words "friend" and "Haley" in the same sentence. Was that even possible to do?
"You-" I said cautiously. "You're friends with Haley Kingston?"
"Yeah," he answered casually. "You know her?"
"Yeah I do...Actually, Princess isn't really my nickname. I prefer being called Sarah."
I kept pleading in my head that he would just call me "Sarah" and not end up being one of Haley's mindless robots that did everything she told them to do. Actually, he could even be allowed to call me whatever the heck he wanted as long as he didn't call me "Princess". Whatever name it was, I don't care, as long as I am not referred to as "Princess" for as long as I live!
"All right then," he smiled once more. "Sarah, it's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too," I said back, uneasy this time."...Um...I should go."
Although it made me feel a little better that he went ahead and called me by my real name, the fact that he was friends with Haley Kingston made me queasy. Besides, how do I know this guy isn't part of the camera crew for Gotham Gossip and doesn't have a camera hidden somewhere in his school uniform? I started to roller-blade away from him, but he continued talking.
"Do you want a ride to your place?" he offered.
The part of me that swooned at the sight of this guy wanted to shout "Yes! That would be great! I would love it if you gave me a ride home!"
Then the reasonable part of me, the part that always won in the end, said that it would be a bad idea. Not just because of the situation with Haley, but also because I already told Bruce that I was on my way to the Bunker right then and there. Sure, I could always have him drop me off at the Penthouse and head to the Bunker after he left, but I felt like that Tyler even seeing where I lived would give away my darkest secret.
To sum it all up, there is no way that I am letting this guy give me a ride anywhere. Period!
"No, that's OK," I said quickly, continuing to leave. "You wouldn't be able to find it anyway."
"OK, uh," he sounded a bit offended. "Wanna hang out sometime?"
He wants to hang out with me? If I was having a good dream, I would want somebody to pinch me right now.
Then again, I wouldn't chicken out in a dream like I just did.
"I'll get back to you on that!" I shouted as I roller-bladed away as fast as I could.
I have got to be the most unobservant and the most idiotic girl on the planet!
On the way to the Bunker, I kept beating myself up for what happened back there at school with Tyler.
He asked me if I wanted to hang out, and I practically said "No"! I just said "No" to one of the very few guys in the whole student body who didn't seem dumb or act like a complete jerk. And not only did I turn him down, I turned him down in front of my friends, and in front of Haley Kingston. Can you imagine how much of a field day she's having at this very moment all because of me turning into an idiot every time this particular guy speaks or even looks at me?
As soon as I got to the shipping yards and opened the crate that would take me down to the Bunker, I had another thought.
Wait a second...
Why am I so worried about all of this? It's just a guy.
...But he didn't seem like just any other guy.
I closed the crate door and activated the platform to lower me down to the Bunker, and stayed deep in thought, mentally studying both sides of the issue. Bruce was at the work table looking over some blueprints and maps, possibly studying what he needed to do for his next mission as the Batman. Once the platform came down, I slowly roller-bladed off, my mind elsewhere. Bruce looked over in my direction to say hi and ask me how my day went, but frowned a bit when he saw that I was still in my roller-blades.
"Sarah," he reminded me of one of his rules before going back to work. "No roller-blades in the Bunker."
I wasn't paying attention. I didn't even hear what Bruce had just said to me. My head was still spinning on whether or not I thought the situation with Tyler was a big deal or not. I mean, did I like him or did I really like him?
"Sarah, did you hear what I said?"
And not to mention, did he like me or did he really like me?
"Sarah?"
He doesn't even seem like the type of person who would hang out with Haley. Does that mean he's someone I could trust?
"Sarah."
Or is he the type to hang out with Haley and trying to trick me into giving him my trust?
"Sarah Chante-"
A hot and stinging pain shook me out of the world I had gotten lost in inside my head when my godfather grabbed my forearm to try and get me to pay attention to him. I shut my eyes tightly, wincing and balling my hand up in a fist to deal with the terrible burning sensation.
"Ow!" I sucked the air through my teeth. "Bruce!"
Bruce immediately forgot wanting me to explain why I didn't answer him and loosened his grip on my arm as his face softened from one of those stern looks I had almost received. With just his eyes alone, he asked me what the matter was. I sighed before pulling off a sleeve of my school uniform jacket off my shoulder. When he saw my white blouse stained with blood from the still bleeding cut, he studied it for a bit, rolling the sleeve up to get a better look before turning to me.
"What happened to your arm?" he asked me, concern in his eyes.
I tried shaking my arm away from Bruce's grip a bit, half hoping I would get out of talking about it.
"Nothing," I explained calmly, a hint of irritation in my voice. "It's just a little scratch."
Oh please. Even I knew that was a sad excuse. There was a 2-inch cut on my arm that was still bleeding and I tried to pass it off as a little scratch. My godfather said nothing as he walked back to the work table and cleared off the maps and blueprints he was looking over.
"Come on," he said, patting the space he made on the work table.
I groaned a little as I skated to the table and sat on it while Bruce got out the first aid kit that was over by the computers. I kind of stared at the computers while I took off my roller-blades. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen those computers on. They were always off whenever I came down to the Bunker.
Bruce came back with the first aid kit and set it on the table, pulling out a cloth and that yellow tinted disinfectant that I really hated. I made a small face of irritation before I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth before I felt the stinging sensation on the cut. After a bit, I opened my eyes again and looked a Bruce.
"You're getting better with dealing with the disinfectant," he smiled a little.
"That's what you think," I muttered under my breath.
Bruce only laughed a little. He knew how much I hated this stuff. In fact, he hated it as much as I did. I wouldn't blame him since he used it more than me.
"So what happened?" he asked. "You tripped?"
Oh yeah. I tripped and cut myself while landing on top of a really cute guy I was possibly getting a crush on. There is no way I am telling Bruce that! Not only would it give him the full right to tease me if I mentioned him, but it would also drive him up the wall and he would become even more over-protective.
"Something like that," I said instead.
"...Haley Kingston had nothing to do with it?"
I hesitated at that part. I could tell in Bruce's voice that he already knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear it from me.
"...She had a little part in it," I answered, wincing a little as he cleaned my cut.
"Sarah," he sighed.
Bruce had just finished cleaning my cut when he said my name. He set down the cloth he used for the disinfectant beside me and looked me straight in the eye, making sure I was listening and paying attention to him.
"I'm serious," he started sternly. "The next time she does something to you, I'm calling her parents."
"And what good will that do, Bruce?" I asked, trying to make Bruce understand. "You and I both know that whatever Haley does, right or wrong, they'll always be on her side."
There was a bit of silence then while Bruce put away the disinfectant and cloth, pondering about what I had just said. Sometimes, all it takes a phone call to make someone get off your back. But even though Bruce had that kind of power to get people to do what he wanted with just a dial of the phone, he had no power when it came to business between two girls who attended Gotham City Private.
"You do have a point." he said softly while he went through the first aid kit.
I gave a winced smile, glad to see that he understood the gravity of the situation. A few seconds later, Bruce took out a white bandage from the first aid kit and placed it over the big cut.
"All right," he smiled at me. "There you go."
I smiled back, thanking him quietly.
"Listen," he started again. "I'm leaving for Hong Kong in a few days to get Lau, so you'll be staying with Rachel until Alfred gets back. He'll be returning home before I do."
This made me frown a bit. As much as I loved hanging out with Rachel and all, I hated it when Bruce had to go out of town. I mean, sure, he brings home some really cool presents for me, but it wasn't the same as being able to travel with him. Sometimes, I'm able to go with him, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to come along on this particular trip. If he was getting Lau, then that must mean he was going to break out the Batman suit.
"How long will you be gone?" I asked.
"I'll be back the day before your birthday," he answered, smiling more. "I promise."
...I smiled a little. If there was one thing I knew very well about Bruce, it was that smile of his. Even though most of the time, I can never tell what he was thinking, I can always tell what was exactly on his mind when he smiled like he was right now.
"You can pull that charming smile of yours all you want," I told him straight up. "I'm still not going to tell you what I want for my birthday."
That made Bruce laugh a bit. He knew he had been caught.
"And why not?" he asked, still smiling.
"Because if I tell you," I started laughing a little. "You'll get it for me."
"That's the idea, Sarah," he chuckled.
"Yeah, I know," I agreed, smiling. Then it turned into a bit of a concerned frown. "But, Bruce, I can tell that you're driving yourself crazy over this whole birthday thing. Why?"
Bruce frowned a little when I asked him that and turned away from facing me.
"Sarah..." he sighed.
Instead of looking at me, my godfather focused his attention on the blueprints he was studying earlier, trying to look for a way to avoid answering my question. For a while, it was quiet between us. Nevertheless, I patiently waited for an answer while I thought of why my birthday made Bruce feel so anxious. Was it because he didn't know how to celebrate a teenage girl's birthday very well? Was he trying to make up for all the birthdays I had and he was never there for?
"It's your first birthday without your parents," he finally told me.
"...I know," I said softly.
As the day of my birthday drew near, the thought of my parents not being able to be there to celebrate with everyone else I loved always crossed my mind. At first, the thought made me sad. But in the end, I knew that my parents would've wanted me to celebrate life instead of mourning the fact that they can't be there with me.
Bruce, however, seemed to be a different story. For almost a month now, I could tell that he's been feeling frantic with all the running around, trying to find out what it was that I wanted more than anything in the world. One time, I even caught him asking Kayla to find out for him when my friends were over and he was actually home.
"I'm guessing you want it to be perfect," I assumed.
"Yeah," he nodded.
I sighed, slipping off the work table and standing beside my godfather.
"Bruce," I started. "Not all birthdays are meant to be perfect."
"I know," he said. "But I want yours to be."
I smiled a little. I knew he meant well, but he just needed to chill out about the whole thing and not worry.
"And," I thought out loud for him, grabbing my backpack and roller-blades. "You think that me telling you what I really want for my birthday, something I want more than anything in the world, will determine the outcome of this perfect birthday?"
Bruce nodded, wordlessly telling me that I assumed correctly.
"So-," he started, hoping to get one tiny answer out of me.
"Forget about it," I interrupted, smirking as I turned to use the secret passage-way to the Penthouse. "I like being surprised anyway."
Bruce smirked a little.
"Like this?" he asked.
The next thing I knew, my godfather pulled me into his arms from behind, and I was soon laughing uncontrollably as he tickled my sides.
"Bruce!" I laughed, trying to get out of his tickling bear hug. "Come on! I have a lot of homework to do!"
"All right," he said laughing, kissing the top of my head before letting me go. "Go on. Tell Alfred I'll be back by dinner."
No. Way.
Bruce home by dinner?
"Gee," I said teasingly as I walked away. "There's something that doesn't happen every night."
"I heard that," he winked at me before going back to work.
True to his word, Bruce actually did make it to dinner in time. Alfred and I were really surprised when that happened. In fact, we even had a little bet going on. When I told Alfred that Bruce said he would actually be home for dinner instead of working around the clock like he usually did, Alfred didn't believe me at first. He said that if it didn't happen, then I would have to do the dishes for a week.
Long story short, I won.
Later that night, I was sitting at the kitchen counter, finishing up my Science homework while Alfred was busy washing the dishes at the sink.
...Actually, I finished my homework a half hour earlier. Instead, I was just doodling in my Science notebook. You know, like hearts, small swirls, flowers-Basically, if it popped into my mind, I drew it around my science notes...A small drawing of a bat even showed up once or twice...
OK, I admit it. I was thinking about Tyler. I mean, what is going on here? Was I getting some sort of crush or something? One minute I'm almost hating his guts because he's friends with Haley (And I know that's really not a good enough reason to hate someone), and the next minute, I'm writing his name and drawing a heart around it...
And yet, here I still sit in the kitchen, elbow propped on the counter, with my chin resting in my hand as I lazily drew hearts that covered every space available around notes I should be studying.
"Ah, young love."
It was Alfred's voice that brought me out of Dream-Land. Almost jumping because it had been so quiet before, I looked up at the kind old man, focusing my attention on what he had to say.
"Huh?" I asked.
Alfred had this small, amused smile on his face as he looked at me for a second, and turned back to the sink full of dishes. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, wondering what was so amusing to him.
"I've seen that look many times before," he explained as he washed the dishes, a chuckle hidden somewhere in his voice. "Your mother had it whenever she thought about your father. Master Wayne gets it when he thinks about Miss Dawes..."
In the middle of him speaking, I knew exactly what it was that Alfred was talking about. He seemed to think that me in that sort of situation was cute, but I didn't want to admit that I was falling for Tyler Jamestown.
"I don't get it," I said innocently.
"Oh, but I believe you do," Alfred said, his smile widening. "So..."
He looked at me while wiping his hands on his apron.
"Who is the young man who has captured your heart?" he asked.
I smiled, knowing that I had been caught. There was no hiding anything around Alfred, especially when it came to things like this. He seemed OK with the fact that I was getting a little crush, but I still denied it.
"He hasn't captured my heart, Alfred," I tried to convince him, putting my notebook in my backpack that was right by me.
"So he's on the hunt then," Alfred remarked, a twinkle in his eye.
"Very funny," I laughed a little.
"Do you know anything about him?"
Thinking for a moment as I finished packing my stuff for tomorrow, I wondered about the very few things I knew about Tyler.
"There's not much to know," I started, sounding like I was serious about the topic. "His name's Tyler Jamestown, he moved here from New York City, he's in the eighth grade, I accidentally knocked him over after school today, Oh! And he's friends with Haley Kingston. That alone tells me everything I need to know about him."
Yep. I was still wary of Tyler's friendship with Haley. But can you blame me? Almost anyone who's even friends with Haley Kingston automatically has me at the top of their "Hate List". I was pretty comfortable with my statement about the eighth grader, but then I caught Alfred frowning in disappointment.
"Miss Sarah," Alfred started sternly. "I'm appalled at this sort of behavior you're showing."
Feeling guilty, I looked down at the counter for a bit. I always felt bad when I did something to make Alfred speak to me like that. Bruce felt the same way too. I mean, if Alfred spoke to you like he just spoke to me, and you didn't feel guilty, then there was something seriously wrong with you. Alfred continued speaking to me as he rinsed some more dishes.
"You of all people should know never to judge a person by the mask he wears until you get to know the face behind the mask itself," he reminded me. "I'm sure Master Wayne taught you that."
"Where is Bruce anyway?" I asked.
"Upstairs."
I nodded in understanding. If Bruce was upstairs, then that must mean the signal wasn't on tonight. Whenever Gordon doesn't turn on the signal on top of the M.C.U, Bruce usually stays at the Penthouse and allows himself some peace and quiet until around midnight. That was when he would suit up and go on patrol and make sure nothing bad was going on in Gotham. At the mention of Bruce, my mind started to review Bruce's behavior over the past few days. One behavior in particular stuck out...
"Alfred," I started carefully. "Can I talk to you about something? And promise you won't say anything to Bruce."
"You do have a crush on this boy, don't you?" Alfred thought we were on the same subject.
I would've laughed, but...This was kind of a serious and personal issue I wanted to discuss.
"It's not about the guy, Alfred," I explained.
For a while, Alfred stared at me, knowing immediately that what I was about to tell him required him to keep it a secret from Bruce. On any other thing, I wouldn't ask Alfred to keep anything a secret from me, especially from Bruce, but...I just didn't want Bruce to know what I was feeling right now. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Alfred dried off his hands, and came over to sit with me at the kitchen counter. He took my hand in both of his, and looked at me.
"Miss Sarah," he started softly. "You know that you can tell me anything in confidence."
Alfred then looked at me straight in the eye to make sure I was paying attention to what he said next.
"But need I remind you about a certain promise that you and Master Wayne made?"
"I'll talk to him about it," I reassured him, before looking down a bit. "...Just when I feel comfortable talking to him about it..."
Honestly, the idea of not talking to Bruce about this right away made me feel guilty on levels I didn't think had existed. When I found out he was Batman, we both promised each other that we wouldn't keep anything a secret from each other. Now, after a whole year, I was about to break that promise.
"All right then," Alfred understood. "What is it?"
I took a breath, let it out when I relaxed myself, and looked at Alfred, beginning to tell him what it was that was bothering me.
"Well," I started. "Bruce has been acting...weird, lately. I mean, it's like...I don't know. Every time something Batman related is mentioned whenever I'm around, he just tenses up..."
Alfred said nothing when he learned that it was Bruce uncomfortable around me when Batman was even thought about that made me so worried. I didn't even know why he was uncomfortable with the subject. If I know who Batman is, then why was my godfather acting like it's something I shouldn't even know about in the first place? Alfred just stood up from where he was sitting and went back to the sink.
"I believe that this is for you and Master Wayne to discuss," he finally expressed his opinion softly.
I sighed quietly and looked down at my hands in my lap. I was afraid he was going to say something like that.
"But I will say this."
My head looked up and stared at Alfred, wondering what it was that he was about to say.
"He is rather worried about you."
This statement made me blink my eyes a few times in confusion.
"He-he's worried about me?" I asked."...Why is he worried about me?"
"I'm afraid the only thing he replied was that he was worried about what you might become," he said.
Alfred didn't say anything else on the subject. I was kind of hoping that he would since I didn't know what it was that my godfather feared I might become. When I was sure that Alfred wasn't going to say anymore on the matter, I excused myself from the kitchen as I gathered my textbooks, quietly said good night, and left to go get ready for bed.
Deep in thought, I silently walked up the winding black staircase, clutching my books to my chest. A part of me was worried about Bruce, and why he was worried about me. I tried to think of what I had done in the past that would cause him to be so concerned, but I couldn't come across anything in particular.
You know, now that I think about it, if anyone should be worried about anyone, it should be me worried about me. I was worried because he wasn't telling me anything. Bruce wasn't talking to me.
He didn't want to tell me about his really bad dog bite that required a lot of stitches.
He practically lied straight to my face about being on my balcony and checking on me while he's still Batman.
And now he's not telling me that he's worried about me becoming whatever it is he's afraid I'll become.
What is going on with my godfather? Why is he keeping things from me?
...OK, granted I shouldn't be talking. I mean, I have the batarang hidden under my pillow and kept it with me at all times; I'm not telling him how much I miss Batman; and I'm certainly not telling him about Tyler Jamestown. But those are totally different, right?
By the time I had thought about all of this, I was already in my pajamas and in bed. Over and over again I thought about all the things that worried me. I wasn't going to get any sleep at all if these haunting things were plaguing my head. There was only one way to get rid of those terrible thoughts, even though I felt uncomfortable about it.
I was going to have to talk to Bruce.
Pulling the covers off, I grabbed my purple bathrobe and started making my way toward my godfather's room. At first, I felt pretty confidant about talking to Bruce about what was on my mind. However, as soon as I got to the doorway, I stopped.
There he was, sitting in one of the black chairs facing the windows that overlooked the entire city, reading a book. I felt that one step into his room, and I would disturb him. An uncomfortable feeling in my stomach grew as I realized I didn't want to talk to Bruce about him being worried about me. What if he got mad when I asked him why? What if he would just lie to me again? I made up my mind, and started to walk back to my room. It was getting late, anyway...
"Did you need something?" he suddenly asked.
I whipped myself around and found my godfather looking over his shoulder at me, smiling his infamous amused smile. But what I didn't understand is how he saw me in the first place? He didn't even look up from his book for a second.
"How did you-?" I started.
Then it hit me when Bruce's smile widened a little.
The "always mind your surroundings" trick must have kicked in or something like that.
"Right, sorry," I laughed, embarrassed a little. "Sometimes I forget."
"That's all right," he smiled as I walked over to him.
I didn't know why I started walking into his room to sit with him, even when I had already made up my mind about going back to bed. But I still felt comfortable just sitting with him. It always made me feel safe to know that he was right there next to me, and I guess I needed that at the moment. There was room on the chair for both of us to sit, so I sat next to him, resting my head against his chest as his arm draped over my back, tucking my legs near my chest as if it would keep my feet warm.
"What are you reading?" I asked.
"My father's journal," he answered. "…Thankfully, it was one of the few things that didn't perish in the fire last year."
I nodded in understanding and Bruce went back to reading the journal. A peaceful silence hung in the air as I stared at the black, hard-bound journal. The corners were either bent or burnt and a few of the pages looked like they had caught fire around the edges. Other than that, the journal seemed to be in pretty good shape.
"Bruce?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"What was your dad like?"
Bruce looked up from the journal, and I could tell he was starting to go through his memories, wondering how he could answer my question in the best way possible. I don't think I have ever asked my godfather about his father. For the past year, I would hear Thomas Wayne's name come up on a few occasions and in some conversations, praising him and mourning his loss. However, none of those situations gave me the opportunity to understand who Thomas Wayne was as a person. Bruce was the one who held the key to my question, but I never thought it would be appropriate to ask him about his father.
"He was gentle," he finally answered me. "…He always spoke calmly and softly…I had never known him to raise his voice…"
"Would he have liked me?" I wondered.
My godfather just looked at me and smiled softly.
"He would have loved you," he said in a proud voice, pulling me close to him. "He would have loved you like you were his own daughter. I know that's how he treated your mother."
That made me smile, knowing that a good man like Bruce's father looked out for my mother when she was around my age. For a while, Bruce was silent, and I could tell that another memory had entered his mind from the look of his face. I just stared at him, wondering what he was thinking as he stared out the window.
"You know," he started softly. "When I was around six years old, your mother had come to stay with us for a week during a cold winter. The first day she was there, we spent all day playing outside in the snow…" Bruce's face fell into a soft frown. "But the next day, she was too sick to even open her eyes."
"How did she get sick?" I asked curiously. "Did you get sick?"
"No," Bruce shook his head. "I was just fine. When I told my father that something was wrong with your mother, he quickly got his medicine bag, went to your mother's room and tried to figure out what was wrong with her. He got an answer from her when she came to for a bit. Apparently, she had snuck out in the middle of the night to go sledding on the slope near the mansion in only a coat, pajamas, and snow boots."
For a small moment, he looked at me.
"She liked to sneak out a lot," he explained, a small smile on his face.
I smiled back a little, knowing that he was practically telling me that my mother was a little rebellious when she was around my age.
"My father never left your mother's side for the next two days," he continued the story. "I remember watching him from the doorway dab her forehead with cool washcloths to try to bring the fever down, trying to get her to eat something, and putting hot water bottles underneath the covers to keep her warm. I was so afraid that she was going to die…"
Bruce was silent for a little bit again before looking at me.
"But, of course," he smiled at me. "On the third day, I found her able to sit up in bed and actually eating on her own. I made her swear from the day forward to never sneak out at night again."
He stared at me with that smile as it widened.
"Then again," he added with a small chuckle. "Your mother never did listen to me."
That made me laugh a little, but in a tired way. Bruce pulled me closer to him in a loving way.
"My father loved your mother very much," he said softly. "And that's more than enough for me to know that he would have loved you."
I thought about what Bruce had said about my mother and the father/daughter relationship she had with his father for a while...Mom didn't tell anyone she was sneaking out and that resulted in her being dreadfully sick...What would happen to me if I don't ask Bruce what he was so worried about?
My godfather suddenly noticed the uneasy and anxious vibes I was giving off and stared at me in concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing I just-" I started softly.
I looked at Bruce...Did I really want to ask him?...Would he even tell me what he was so worried about?
"...I just didn't have a good day at school today," I lied, snuggling closer to him. "That's all."
I don't believe it.
I lied.
I actually lied to my godfather. I lied right to his face.
And the worst part about that lie?
He actually bought it.
"I see," he whispered."... Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," I shook my head tiredly. "I just want to forget about it. You know, keep on moving forward."
I could feel Bruce look down at me as I closed my eyes, resting my head against his chest. At first, I thought he could see right through me and could tell what I really wanted to ask. But then I felt him softly stroking the strands of my hair between his fingers and kiss the top of my head.
"That's my girl," he said approvingly.
He went back to reading his father's journal, and I rested there, feeling guilty about keeping my feelings a secret, and slowly drifting off to sleep.
My eyes flew open and I sat up from where I laid with a frightened gasp escaping my lips. As I took deep breaths, I noticed I was still in Bruce's room, and that I had fallen asleep next to him on his small couch. A blanket was over my shoulders, and I wrapped that around me to comfort me. When I woke up all of a sudden, Bruce took notice of this and put down his father's journal and leaned forward, trying to get me to look at him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately worried.
"Ah," I held my head in my hands, taking deep breaths. "I don't know…Nightmare, I guess."
"What was it about?"
For what seemed like a long while, I sat on the couch, leaned forward so I could stare at the carpet below me, trying to remember what my subconcious had thought up in my dream and why it had frightened me so. But, like most dreams, I couldn't remember right away.
"I can't remember," I simply answered.
"...It's probably just as well," Bruce said in a low voice.
The funny thing about dreams and nightmares were was that you can never really remember them until later in the day when you're awake. In most cases, they are forgotten, like the nightmare I had that night. But even though I couldn't remember what it was about, I did know that it scared me. Next to me, Bruce looked at his watch and noticed how late it was.
"We should probably get you into bed," Bruce put his book on the coffee table. "Come on."
My godfather got up from his seat, and hooked one arm under my legs and the other around my shoulders, getting ready to take me to bed for the night before he went on patrol.
"But I'm not tired," I yawned, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Nice try," he laughed a little.
I was too tired to protest anymore, even though I kind of dreaded going back to sleep for fear of reliving the forgotten nightmare. But I felt a sort of peace in Bruce's arms as he carried me from his room to mine. It was the kind of peace that spoke to me. It would always whisper comforting things to me and assure me that everything was all right. Before I knew it, I felt myself being lowered gently onto my bed and the covers being pulled over me. As I settled to go back to sleep, I felt Bruce's familiar shadow loom over me as he did what he usually did when he said good night to me. Sweep the hair out of my face, kiss me on the forehead and say:
"Sleep well, Sarah Chante."
By now, I was positive that it was Batman who had said the same thing to me just a few nights before...There was one question I had to ask Bruce before he left.
"Bruce?" I caught his hand before he could walk away from the side of my bed.
"Yeah?" he looked back.
"...Are you mad at me?"
Silence filled between us for a few seconds before I felt Bruce's confused expression on his face looking at me.
"...What?" he asked.
My godfather sat on the edge of the bed next to me, gently turning my tired head his way so I could face him.
"Why would you ask me a question like that?" he inquired softly, concerned.
I bit my lip before answering.
"I keep getting this weird vibe from you that I did something I wasn't supposed to do," I explained.
"Sarah..."
Bruce calmly stroked the hair on my head in a comforting way as he looked at me, that small reassuring smile on his face.
"I could never be mad at you."
(A/N: OK. I know that she haven't updated since February, but let me explain what's been going on with me.
1. I had college. For those of you who know what that's like, I'm sure you understand the pressure.
2. I'm transferring so I can be closer to home and so I can minor in Criminology.
3. I was having a lot of nightmares of someone who shall remain nameless killing me. It got so bad one week, it actually made me physically sick. So sick that my roommates had to feed me even though I kept throwing up. Trust me. It wasn't pretty.
4. I've been going on dates.
5.I've been helping my family around the house all day.
I'm already working on chapter 8, so hopefully, it won't be too long of a wait next time. So you guys know the drill, review, give ideas that you think would be great for the story...and wait for the next chapter. It won't be a long wait this time, I promise.)
