VILLAIN
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Disclaimer: Batman belongs to DC Comic
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Genre(s): Angst/Hurt/No Comfort
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Summary: We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side
But what if we're the villains on the other?
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(A/N): Song title: Villain by Stella Jang.
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Bruce, out of nowhere, suddenly recalled a pretty peppy song that Dick thoughtlessly hummed in the middle of their patrol. It came from the land of the east, sung by a woman in chef attire. The man donned in a bat suit wasn't one who indulged himself in a wasteful activity such as diving deep into the mind of a singer when they first created their masterpiece. Nonetheless, in this silent night full of smog, he found his mind wandering to a place he didn't know existed.
So, in a fit of a reckless brashness of him, he changed the signal in his comm and connected it to a playlist compiled by his eldest son.
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We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side
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Ouch.
First sentence in and his heart just clenched shut like an abandoned paper ball.
He couldn't understand how someone could create a song this morbid yet still maintain the happy tune.
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Some things are black
Some things are white
You shouldn't look through colored lenses
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True.
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You're the good guy
He's the bad guy
Your boring world is in black and white
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A gross understatement.
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So many shades of gray
Oh, how can you still not know?
Good easily fades away
Think twice before you like me
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Looked like the song is on the way to the chorus now.
Meaning, it is time for Bruce—Batman. Alone and without a partner because Dick is in Bludhaven and Tim is busy with his Titan duty—to move. He had a target to track and a crime someone need to pay.
The hook snatched and he lept.
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Because
I'm a villain
What makes you think otherwise?
You don't know what a wicked little devil I am
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The wind whipped his cape, the breeze kissed his only open skin. Blue eyes that were masked by the intimidating cowl widened a bit when he saw Harley and Joker prancing about the street, exclaiming atrocities while spatting smoking bullets at any random corners.
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You're a villain
What makes you think otherwise?
The villain you failed to notice breathes within you
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He touched down in a silent step. It managed to startle the rogues to a halt still, surprised at the sudden entrance of an interloper. They blinked once, twice. Before a crazed-looking smirk blossomed upon their make-up face, maniacal shine sparkled at the center of their focused gaze.
(Unbeknown to them, a similar smile bloomed on the vigilante's complexion as well)
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I'm killing someone, maybe
You're killing someone, maybe
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He ducked under the barrage of lethal attack. Swiping left then right. A leg was stretched but he evaded with ease. His elbow soar and it connected with Harley's under the jaw. As the girl's prone figure smacked the lap post with enough force, her breath was knocked out of her esophagus and blood started trickling her forehead, Batman whirled on Joker, his hand went into the inside pocket of his enormous cloak.
Out of it, was a glint of a polished gun.
The side of the butt swung right between the clown's eyes, as the man himself was shocked speechless at the sight of Batman wielding a weapon he vowed to forbid.
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I'm killing you, maybe
You're killing me, maybe
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The sound of a metal meeting skin almost resembled the echo of a thunderclap. The green-haired man crumpled into a heap of boneless shapes. Two of the dangerous human being had been subdued within records.
Batman's chest expanded and he exhaled. A dark aura seemed to be enveloping the already dark-suited hero of Gotham city.
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We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side
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(The citizen watched in fear when Batman brought the tied-up villains to who-knows-where. Their hunch told them that this is going to be the last time they'll ever see those two skipping along in the living world from now on)
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But what if we're the villains on the other
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Am I good?
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There was a smack.
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Am I bad?
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There was a stomp.
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Are you good?
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There was a punch.
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Are you bad?
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There was a backhanded slap.
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The person I love the most
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Joker laughed and laughed, ignorant of how a sobbing mess Harley begged Batman to stop hurting her hubby.
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Could be a dog to someone else
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The man of vengeance didn't listen. On the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, his knuckles kept raining, kicks kept coming. Images of a crying child, beaten up by a crowbar that belonged to a deranged clown coalesced as if it was a never-ending nightmare.
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Are we good?
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He questioned his action right now. Striking a defenseless man to a pulp, never giving him a chance to retaliate. Even as his breath stuttered and eyelids fluttered closed. Even as his smile waver and his body collapsed further, Batman couldn't—didn't—stop.
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Are we bad?
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But could anybody blame him though? This crazy man had ripped something precious from beneath his loving embrace. This crazy man had tortured the same defenseless kid just for shit and giggle. This crazy man had broken the already dysfunctional family to pieces and he couldn't put it back together any longer—
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What is good?
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Should he leave this man to the law and authority? The same corrupted law and useless authority who stole his donation money away for their own livelihood instead of bettering the cesspool of this godforsaken city?
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What is bad?
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Is it wrong if he decided to be the judge, jury, and executioner himself? People from Above seemed content with letting the rot grow, after all. As long as it wasn't their health that got targeted. As long it wasn't their life that got ruined and destroyed! Then they'll throw the criminals behind the bar and dust their hands clean. Is it wrong if his patient finally snapped and he said enough is enough?!
Well
Not again.
Not anymore.
He couldn't let this man escape his punishment any longer.
Not when he first started his rampage.
Not when he left every single one of the living beings in tatter.
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The person you hate the most
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Not when one of the people this clown had killed—
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Is somebody's beloved child
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—is his precious Jaylad.
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So many shades of gray
Oh, how can you still not know?
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"The least I asked you is to at least mourn for my dead, old man!" Jason bellowed. The beginning of this one-man crusade came from their latest argument the night before. It kept rewinding and rewinding, like a broken cassette needed of repair. He remembered every single detail; the fisted fists, the paleness of his skin, the redness of his pupil, and the shakiness of his entire body, "If you can't kill him, if you want to protect your righteous belief and keep the legacy of Batman going, then go fucking ahead! I just—"
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Good easily fades away
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"I just want to see you care…"
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Think twice before you like me
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So be it.
For it is time for him to stop hesitating. For it is time for him to stop delaying.
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Because
I'm a villain
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Ready to bring this monster to the deepest hell.
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What makes you think otherwise?
You don't know what a wicked little devil I am
You're a villain
What makes you think otherwise?
The villain you failed to notice breathes within you
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He didn't know how much time had passed. Was it hours? Minutes? Even seconds? He was too gone to count.
What he instead knew was that Joker died. A bullet wound was visible near the center of his eyebrows. His eyes were wide open and blank. Glassy and unseeing. His mouth had, at one point, turned down instead of up. Red liquid flowed from the two open holes. It drip drip drip, the sound was borderline eerie in the already bleak town.
Joker had died.
And Batman—
Batman had become a murderer.
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I'm killing someone, maybe
You're killing someone, maybe
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(The song, who he had set to play in an endless loop, finally registered back inside his mind.)
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I'm killing you, maybe
You're killing me, maybe
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(Somehow, it sounded like it was mocking him)
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We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side
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"B."
Batman started. His head swerved and his widening orbs looked at Red Hood's tense figure. Both of them were silent, frozen. The smell of blood wafted through the air, Joker's stillness and Harley's wrecked hiccup hung in this cold air.
To think the vigilante turned crime lord himself would grace this sinful person with his worthy existence.
Did one of his children ask for his help? Dick? Tim? Maybe Alfred, his butler slash grandfather? Or, shocking yet, was it the Red Hood himself?
It made him happy.
And at the same time oh so sad.
There was a gun, tightened in between Batman's bloody fingers. It pointed right at his own forehead.
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But what if we're the villains on the other?
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"B," Red Hood started. His legs quivered, but slowly, steadily, he stepped forward, "B. Whatever you're thinking, don't do it."
Batman's shoulders rose.
"B. Bruce," the vigilante's voice shook, he could feel dread pooling at the bottom of his dread stomach, "Let's…Let's just go home. Alright?"
His lips thinned before they quirked into a smile.
(It was not a happy smile.)
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We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side
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Batman whispered. Without a growl, without his unnatural calm. Without pretense or mask. It was just Bruce speaking. Just a human and a grieving father talking, "Son."
"I'm sorry…."
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But what if we're the villains on the other?
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Jason ran, a desperate shout emerged from beneath. He wished the time would stop. He wished he could run even faster. He wish his word could reach before the bullet penetrated that fragile, fragile skull—
Nevertheless, it was already too late. It was too late when he saw how Bruce 's index finger tightened and tears rolled down the devastated child's face.
"DAD!"
BANG
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We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side
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(A/N): I swear to god, I was crying ugly tears as I listened to 'I Like That' from SISTAR. And it happened twice. TWICE!
Granted, I was reading a very sad fanfic at that time, but still…
I heard some people could lose their concentration or vibe whenever they listen to some peppy songs. Yet it seemed it doesn't matter to me what kind of song was being played because my attention will be solely on whatever am I actually focusing on doing right there and then a.k.a reading angst fanfics :'D