Disclaimer: I don't own "Batman Begins"

I had barely slept after I was back in my room. Safe and sound from the dangers of Gotham. But what I really couldn't believe was that someone saved me. I couldn't believe it. Someone saved someone like me. Usually when people look at me, they give me a weird look, because they know I won't say anything. But this couldn't be real. I mean, come on. You'd be debating whether or not a guy in a bat suit came and saved your life too. And what was weird is that I actually spoke to him. And he spoke to me as if he had plenty of time. It was strange to be talking again, but then it felt wonderful. I looked at my clock after I had woken up and thought these things, and saw that it was almost time to get ready for school. Remembering I had to go back today, I quickly brushed my hair into a ponytail, got on my green and black uniform, and stuffed my backpack with my books. My wrist was almost healed, and nobody would notice it because it didn't bleed that much last night. Hearing the bus pull over outside the mansion as I ran down the steps, I ran faster and sped past Alfred who was carrying a tray of tea.

"Have a wonderful day Miss Sarah," he called as I opened the door.

"Bye Alfred!" I shouted a call back to him as I closed the door.

What I didn't hear as I raced to the bus, though, was the sound of silver clattering on the floor.

When I finally arrived at school, it seemed that I wasn't the only one who knew about Batman. Instead of talking about cell phones, and prada bags, and video games, Batman was the discussion of the students. I kept hearing people say that you can't take the law into your own hands, but others saying that he sounded kind of cool. I had to admit, he was cool. Teachers had newspapers in their hands with Falcone's picture of him being strung up to the light I saw last night. As I walked into my English class, I didn't hear the discussion of the strange Batman. I heard a bit of an argument.

"Ally," said a blonde haired girl. "I can't believe you would do something to your hair like this!"

I looked at a group of blonde haired girls, ganging up on a brunette haired girl, whom I recognized as the Farris girl. Ally Farris. Nathan Farris's sister. Last time I saw her, she had blonde hair. Now it looked like she dyed it. And obviously her friends weren't liking it.

"It's so boring!" said another girl. "I mean, come on, at least with blonde you get a lot of guys to notice you,"

"But..." Ally said softly. "I like this color hair. Besides, brown is my natural hair color. My aunt just wanted my hair to be blonde for a play that I was doing in the 1st grade, and it sort of grew on me,"

"Please," the first blonde haired girl said. "Nobody likes this hair color,"

"Well I think it rocks!" I found myself exclaiming.

The girls stopped talking, and looked at me with open mouths. Ally Farris just stared at me as if I had done the inevitable. Obviously I had. But the fear of being taunted again rose up in me so I covered it up.

"Uh..." I stammered. "It's because that...blonde hair...it's so...yesterday?"

The blonde haired girls looked at each other and back at me.

"My gosh," said one. "She's right. Since when was the last time we looked at fashion magazines?"

"2 hours ago?" asked another.

"Wow. A lot has changed in the world of fashion. Thanks Mute Girl,"

So the blonde haired girls took up their seats, discussing when to meet to get their heair dyed brunette. Ally Farris continued to stare at me. I just smiled.

"You're welcome," I said laughing a bit.

"Wow," she said coming over to me. "That took a lot of guts,"

"No...It just took a lot of brain,"

Ally laughed at my joke.

"I'm Ally Farris," she said sitting down by me.

"I know," I said smiling for what seemed like a long time. "I'm Sarah Chante,"

"I know. I read about you in an article in the Gotham Tribune,"

I blinked at this remark.

"I was in an article?" I asked.

"Yeah," Ally said. "But it was just a short one. All it said was that after coming back, Bruce Wayne gained custody over you. They say that in addition to your inheritance, you get his money when he leaves,"

"Oh...So it was just about me getting money?"

"Pretty much...So, what's it like anyway? Living with the Prince of Gotham?"

I thought about it for a moment.

"It feels...nice," I said softly.

"How nice?" Ally inquired.

"...He knows how I feel,"

READER'S POV:

That afternoon, Bruce woke up to the window's being drawn open in his room by Alfred. Tiredly, he pulled the covers over his head.

"Bat's are nocturnal," he groaned.

"Bat's may be," Alfred said as he set down a tray of food. "But even for billionaire playboys, 3:00 is pushing it. A price for leading the double life I fear,"

Bruce stil kept the covers over his head in attempt to go back to sleep. After the first night as Batman, he was in no mood to get up, and show his face to the world just yet.

"Your theatrics made an impression," Alfred held a newspaper to his face.

This caught Bruce's attention as he grabbed the paper to get a better look. Realizing there were several articles in there about him...or should I say Batman...he immedietly sat up, throwing the covers off of him.

"Theatricality and deception," he started. "Are powerful weapons, Alfred. This is a good start,"

Alfred had to oppose to that. On Bruce's arm was a bruise the size of a grapefruit. He pointed at it.

"If those," he said. "Are to be the first of many injuries to come, it would be wise to find a suitable excuse. Polo, for instance,"

Bruce made a face as he looked up from the paper.

"I'm not learning polo, Alfred," he said.

"Strange injuries, a nonexsistent social life," Alfred explained. "These things beg the question of what exactly does Bruce Wayne do with his time and money,"

"What does someone like me do?" Bruce asked as he stood up.

"Well, drive sports cars. Date movie stars..." Bruce dropped to the ground and started doing push ups. "Buy things that are not for sale. Who knows Master Wayne, you start pretending to have fun...you might even have a little by accident,"

Bruce continued doing push-ups, as Alfred looked at the clock.

"Miss Sarah should be getting home any minute," he said putting the dishes back on the silver tray. "...You know, just this morning, I thought someone else was in the house, but then I realized it was just Sarah Chante saying goodbye to me on her way to the bus,"

Bruce stopped in mid-push, and slowly got up, looking at Alfred. Alfred had a concerned look on his face. Bruce sighed.

"She was at the docks last night," he said.

Alfred shook his head.

"Somehow," he said picking up the tray. "I knew that the torn shirt of hers had something to do with this,"

"They had her handcuffed to a pipe, Alfred," Bruce explained. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Exactly what you did, Master Wayne. But if that girl is anything like Jennifer, she'll want to see Batman again,"

Bruce stopped for a moment. Growing up, Jennifer always knew what to do to get what she wanted, for the right reasons of course. And Bruce never knew what she was up to.

"Don't worry," he said putting on his robe. "I'm going to talk to her about it,"

"About you being Batman, sir?" Alfred inquired.

"Not just yet,"

"Master Wayne..."

"I know she's going to be living here until Judge Faden makes a decision about her gaurdianship, but I want her to be safe first. When the time is right, I'll tell her,"

SARAH'S POV:

That afternoon, I had never felt so happy in my entire life. Ally Farris and I spent all day talking to each other when we could, and we spent recess talking about our favorite books and other things. She recomended a book to me called "James and the Giant Peach" by Roald Dahl. It was a book that I had wanted to read for a little while, and Ally said that she'd bring it over tomorrow morning to Wayne Manor. When I got home, I never forgot the looks on Alfred and Bruce's face. Alfred was really keen to start a conversation with me. Of course, I talked to him about stuff like trying to fix up the garden, and how we can get the Manor ready for Bruce's 30th birthday celebration. It was said to be the biggest party of the year. As big as the Christmas parties. Although Bruce was quiet since I got home. He seemed tired and physically hurt. Because he kept holding his arm sometimes when he walked. But I didn't ask him anything about it. That night as I lay in my bed, I finished reading yet another book. I really wasn't that tired, but I was kind of hungry. So, putting on my slippers, I walked out of my room to go to the kitchen. Turning on the light though, I jumped a bit. Bruce was sitting at the counter in his robe and pajamas, drinking some hot coco from a mug. He looked up to find me.

"Hey," he said softly. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," I said mildly.

"Me too...Want some coco?"

"Sure,"

Bruce got up from his seat, and turned on the tea kettle to heat up some water as I sat down. He sat back down as we waited for the water to heat up. He took the reigns of talking first.

"So," he said. "You've finally decided to talk,"

"...Yeah..." I said in my quiet voice.

"What made you get out of the silence?"

I shrugged. The real reason why is because I wanted to know why Batman saved me. But if I told Bruce about Batman, I'd be in trouble. Plus, if I did, then Judge Faden would give my Uncle Edgar permission to have custody over me. So, I lied.

"I just realized," I started. "That it was time to stop being scared of everything,"

Bruce nodded to that.

"I can understand that," he said. "...You know, you sound just like your mother,"

"...I do?"

"Yeah. She was quiet in her own way too, but she was always fun to be around with. She was the kindest, bravest person I ever knew,"

I looked down a bit.

"I wish I could be brave," I said. "I'm practically scared of my own shadow,"

Bruce smiled.

"The brave ones usually are," he said. "...You making new friends?"

I nodded.

"Yeah," I said. "A sister and brother named Ally and Nathan Farris,"

"I know the Farris'," Bruce said. "They're a really good family. Ally's the same age as you are, right? Twelve?"

"Right...She's coming by tomorrow to give me a book,"

"What's it called?"

"'James and the Giant Peach' by Roald Dahl," I said.

Bruce was a bit quiet at that.

"I like that movie," he said.

I knitted my eyebrows togethor. It was a movie?

"But it's a book," I said.

"I didn't know it was a book," Bruce smiled.

"I didn't know it was a movie,"

Bruce just smiled as he poured my hot coco into a mug. He looked at me with that same look I always got from him. Amused, interested, and inquiring what I was thinking. He gave it to me, and I sipped it slowly, so I wouldn't burn my tongue.

"We have it I think," Bruce said. "If you want to watch it, you can,"

"OK," I said.

"...You want to watch it now?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"But it's past my bedtime," I protested softly. "I shouldn't even be up,"

"It's OK," Bruce said as I got up to leave. "It's Friday night, and you can sleep in as much as you want tomorrow morning. Come on,"

Figuring there was no harm into watching a movie, I just shrugged, and followed Bruce into the living room. He turned on a lamp by the couch, and I sat down in the middle of it, wrapping myself in a warm blanket, and putting my hot coco on the coffee table. After he popped in the DVD after about 5 minutes of searching for it, he sat down beside me as we watched it. It started out with a boy living with his parents by the sea. I figured it would be James. He looked so happy to be with his parents. It brought memories of my parents and me. But then he got sent to live with his horrible aunts named Aunt Spiker and Sponge. They called him names, sent him to do the chores they wouldn't do, while they lounged around. As the movie went on, I couldn't help but show my look of disgust. I know realized that even people who don't have that much can be selfish too. They could want the things others have. They could be vain. Bruce didn't seem to notice anything else but the TV, but one part squeezed my heart tightly, I thought I couldn't breathe. In the movie, James had a travel book his father gave to him. His aunts found it, and they began to criticize him. They said bad stuff about his parents. They said they were foolish people always dreaming, weren't looking where they were going when they were killed. This brought to my attention the things that happened in my life. My relatives criticized my parents all the time. And they loved to call me names as well, just to see me break down into little pieces. And they take away things that I held dear. Such as my locket. Now I felt invisible without it. I should've asked someone to fix it for me. But I was under the impression that it would never be fixed. I would never be fixed. No one can just put the pieces back togethor. Silently, I cried a bit. I didn't want Bruce to notice, but I was sitting so close to him, he felt my body shake. He paused the movie real quick, and looked at me.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"...They were right about me..." I said through tears.

"Who?"

"My relatives. They were right. They were right all along," I sobbed. "My parents were silly dreamers not looking where they were going. They were dreamers because of me. And if it wasn't for me, they'd still be alive...I am the Scum of the Narrows,"

Bruce shook his head, and held me against him tightly. I cried into his chest as he rocked me back and forth.

"It was nothing that you did," he said into my ear.

I continued to sob for my parents as I felt my body grow tired. I covered myself with the blanket more, and I grew more sleepy. I fell asleep in Bruce's arms crying that night...and dreaming of a silhouette of a man dressed in a bat suit standing out the window.