Okay everybody, this is only my second fic ever so go easy on me please. Also, I'm looking for a good beta so if you could drop me a line when you review, I would be grateful.
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, becase DC Comics owns him and ll the other marvelous characters in his comic books. I only own Hope Wayne.
Chapter One: Meet Hope Wayne
"So, tell me about your father.", the psychiatrist asked. You could tell she was new. Her eyes kept darting around as if afraid of some sort of attack and her shelves were filled with books about 'teen angst' and the like. She was like a walking talking Barbie doll.Her blond hair shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the huge windows and big blue eyes watched me intently, not to mention a nice body (with plenty of curves in the necessary places). My father had probably picked this one because of her looks alone. I sighed. This wouldn't be too hard. It was the experienced ones it took some time to break.
"He's super cool. You know, super rich and all that. My imaginary friend Jimmy especially likes him. Ever since I poisoned that one guy's food he really likes me too!", I replied, making sure to talk in the high bubbly voice that most teenage girls preferred. The woman looked up abruptly from her littlepink notepad in which she had been scribbling furiously, searching myface for a lie. I put my mask on, puppy dog eyes and all, covering my features completely. I could see myself in her eyes. An unruly teenage girl in withdrawal from her father because he is the richest, most eligible bachelor in the world. The black make-up and rebellious behavior were just an outlet for pent up aggression against her father's many lady friends.
Diagnosis: She would grow out of this depressive stage soon enough.
Ha. Yeah, right. I didn't just dislike my father. I despised him with a ferocity most didn't understand. I'd grown up as the good girl, listening to my elders, always the sweetest child anyone had ever seen. No more. I dyed my raven black hair with purple streaks when I was eleven, my first sign of the oncoming war between my father and I. At the age of twelve I had gotten both ears pierced, as well as my navel. A year later I came to acquire the Chinese symbol of darkness that remained nestled right between my shoulder blades. My violet eyes now glimmered with hatred, instead of innocence any young woman should have. I had changed over the years of women, parties, and late nights with my father.
"You have an imaginary friend?", the woman asked. I looked up, surprised at that comment. Actually, I was more in disbelief then anything else. She actually believed me! This was unprecedented. I usually had to go on to harder stuff before they started to even consider how mentally ill I really was. This would be fun.
"Of course! He's the best. He tells me to do stuff all the time, like burndown the houseand stuff like that. I once threw a priceless Chinese sculpture out the window because of Jimmy. Ming dynasty, I think. Daddy wasn't to happy about that, nor the time I tried to hang myself in the living room. I wonder why?", I replied with a lofty note of wonder, pretending to be completely oblivious to her growing horror.I smiled. My little inside smile. Now she thought I was both homicidal and suicidal.
"Okay, I think we're finished for today.'", the woman said, grabbing my backpack and shoving it into my arms as she pushed me to the door. I decided to give it one more try.
"Are you sure you don't want to hear about Philippe! He likes to talk about drugs and alcohol a lot!" At that she slammed the door in my face, an audible sighcouldbeheard from the other side of the door. As I walked down the sidewalk to the awaiting limo I started to laugh. Not a giggle like most fourteen year old girls, but a maniacal laugh like in the horror movies. After all, my talent was unnerving people. It was a gift I received from my only friend. His name is Tim, and he is the famous superhero of Gotham called Robin.
"I'm home!", I yelled as I walked through the huge front doors of Wayne manor. From the outside Wayne Manor is quite an impressive, if not intimidating building. If one did not know the intricacies of the mansion, one could get lost for days, or even weeks of time. Growing up in such a big house had had it's advantages, and its disadvantages. In my early years my young mind could not grasp why my father did not talk to me or show me any affection. My mind could not stretch to understand why the man I depended on loved a small orphan boy who had wandered into our home more than me. Eventually I had pried far enough to make Alfred tell me the "family" secret. It had angered me that my flesh and blood would put strangers above me, but I had grown away from the pain. The neglect had dulled me over time. Never would I let anyone near to my heart as I had before then.Tim had reached out after Dick had left and Jason killed. Barbara had ignored me, and Cassie probably still had no idea that there was another female in the house. As for 'dad', I hadn't spoken to him in three years time. I avoided him, and he avoided me. As long as I obeyed the rules (no crime fighting, no leaving the house after dark, no bothering father while he works), I was left to my own devices. A shout shook me from my thoughts.
"Where have you been?", a slightly angry voice echoed through the entrance hall. A stocky teenager came thumping down the staircase, looking slightly out of breath as he came closer. His black hair clashed with the bright blue eyes, while his sixteen year old lithe body would have made any girl swoon. This was Tim, the masked hero also known as Robin.
"Father set me up with another psychiatrist.", I replied, passing him as he stopped at the bottom. My father had had no interest in my life for the past three years except to send me to more and more psychiatrists. Well, I'd show him. "I'll be in the training room.", I yelled to him over my shoulder. As I made my way into the depths of the mansion, I thought about my father. I had always wondered why he disliked me so. He was the one who had done this to me. He was the one to ignore me, neglect me. It's not that I was needy for any sort of world-y possessions, but I had never felt 'love' from anyone. Instead, I had buried myself in my martial arts. By now, I was sure I could beat my father. Seven years of non-stop training could do that to you.
Arriving at the training room, I didn't bother changing out of my usual attire. Although it was harder to move in huge lace up boots, it helped my strength to work with them on. Grabbing a bo stick from the rack, I began my normal exercises. Envisioning four opponents surrounding me, I jabbed, kicked, sliced, and smacked with the best of them. One behind me got a nice shove into the solar plexus, followed by an upward slash to the one to my right. Breathe in, breathe out. This was where I belonged. Not in some tailored dress or at some up scale party. Pivot, swing, thrust. I belonged fighting any and all opponents who dared oppose me. As a sweat slowly broke out on my forehead, I began to speed up. My slashes became more precise, whistling through the air. Suddenly, I was torn from my concentrated state by a noise behind me. I realized that someone was clapping.
"Well, I'm impressed. A girl of your age being able to break into this house without any help. You didn't even go for the money vault in my office. Your skills are magnificent, I'll give you that.", a deep voice praised from the corner. Turning slowly, I came face to face with the one man I never wanted to lay eyes on again. Bruce Wayne, the lucrative millionaire. Also known as Batman and my father.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.", I replied truthfully. Then I realized the odd comments and tone of voice. He didn't recognize me. My own father had no idea what I looked like. Narrowing my eyes, I glared hatefully at the smug grin plastered on his face.
"Now really. I must give praise where it should be granted. You are one talented girl. I almost want to offer you a job for pulling off this little stunt.", he replied smoothly, stepping from the corner. His suit was impeccable as always, and not a hair was out of place on his head. His shrewd blue eyes looked me up and down as if I was a piece of meat. Myire grew with every second.
"Next time you come snooping around my business, make sure you know who you're talking to father.", I spat the last word as if it were dirty. A confused expression passed over his face before a dawning realization followed swiftly afterward. Throwing my bo stick at him, I stormed from the room with a resounding "BANG" of the doors signaling my angry departure.
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