Disclaimer: I do not own "Batman Begins"
My head feels heavy. It's hard to move it. In fact, it was hard to move anything. I let out a muffled moan through my lips. Everything hurts. I hear voices right above me, not so far away. Someone's holdng my hand, stroking it with their thumb. I try to see who it is, but I can't open my eyes. I'm lying somewhere soft, warmly covered up, my head on a big, soft pillow. I listen to the voices above me, trying to find out who they were, and if they would give me any clue as to where I was. Obviously I must've been somewhere safe, and that there was one male voice and one female voice. But they sounded familiar. Who were they?
"She was drowning?" asked the surprised female voice in a whispered tone. "In the river? How did she end up there? I thought the police raised the bridges to keep Edgar from escaping!"
"Quiet," I heard the stern, deep and raspy male voice. "You'll wake her up,"
I moan a little again, trying tp speak up.
"Mom?" I manage to mummble.
I never thought someone would hear me, but whoever was sitting next to me and stroking my hand just stood up, and let out a surprised gasp. Footsteps backed away from where I was lying and stopped. As I move my head from side to side, someone else sits next to me from a closer spot. A hand is placed on my forehead to hold my head still. I stop moving my head, and the hand brushes a few stray hairs away from my face.
"Dad?" I mummble again.
"Shh," I hear from the male voice. "Go back to sleep, Sarah,"
I wanted to protest, but I was exhausted. Before I fell back asleep, I heard the female voice speak up.
"You're telling her the truth," it said firmly. "Tonight,"
THE NARROWS
Sergeant Jim Gordon stood amidst the police cars and ambulences overlooking the scene of the crimes that had been committed. Evidence had been taken in immedietly to be analyzed and both bodies of Edgar Mason and Ethan Peak were found, bagged, and shipped off to the morgue for Cause-of-Death analysis. The ambulences proved useless though. The kidnapped girl, Sarah Chante, wasn't around to be brought in for medical attention. Gone. Vanished. She wasn't dead, Gordon knew that for sure. He watched the bodies being stored into the back of an ambulence and started walking away from the scene.
"Get 'em out of here," he said to the ambulence guys, banging on the back doors of their vehicle.
As the police cars and ambulences drove away, Gordon walked to an alleyway by Arkham Asylum. He looked around the darkness and braced himself.
"You said to meet here?" he asked aloud.
"I took the girl home," said a raspy voice.
Gordon turned around to face the Batman, his eyes glowing and head sort of bent to face the ground in order to avoid eye contact. The cold wind made the cape flap in the air, giving a mysterious aura about the Dark Knight. Gordon wasn't afraid of him this time. After the last couple of encounters with this guy, Gordon had officially put his trust in the Batman.
"How is she?" Gordon asked, worried of the well-being of his deceased friend's daughter.
Batman raised his head a bit.
"She's hurt," he got to the point. "A few cuts and bruises. Maybe a gash or two. Still unconcious...since I left her with her godfather. But she'll be fine,"
"How does Wayne feel about all this?" Gordon wondered.
"...Furious. Mad at himself for letting his goddaughter get into this. He's blaming himself for hat happened to Sarah Chante,"
There was a strong hint of anger in the Batman's voice, but Gordon decided not to ask why. A part of him knew: Batman blamed himself for Sarah's condition as well.
"Well," he sighed. "If you two happen to cross paths again in the future, tell him it's not his fault. It's no one's fault. We didn't know it would happen this way,"
"...I'll be sure he get's the message," Batman gutterally said. "...How did you know she was being held captive at Arkham Asylum?"
Gordon sighed, but almost had a hint of a comforting smile on his face.
"You know," he said. "For as long as I've known Sarah Chante and her parents, I've also known that she and her cousin, Josh Mason, would never get along. Ever...Imagine my surprise to see him running into the police department, confessing everything. He told us about the loose floorboard in his father's office, how Sarah was too scared to say anything...His mother had no idea what was going on until we had the boy in Commissioner Loeb's office, telling his story,"
Slowly, Batman nodded.
"And the tape I asked you to check out?" he asked.
From the inside of his long, overcoat pocket, Gordon pulled out a black videotape. It was dated the same date Luke and Jennifer Chante were murdered. He gave it to the Batman when he held out his hand for it.
"...It's horrible what happened to them," Gordon commented. "I'd hate to think what Mason had in store for their little girl,"
"So would I," Batman added.
Obviously, the police had searched the Mason Mansion and Arkham Asylum until they found the videotape. And, obviously, they had viewed the missing security camera footage that proved that Luke and Jennifer Chante were murdered by Edgar Mason. Batman handed it back to Gordon.
"Take it," he said to him. "Destroy it. Hide it. Anything...But never let Sarah Chante see this footage. The last thing we want is to haunt her with how her parents were killed,"
Gordon nodded and took the videotape as Batman opened his fist, revealing the bullet that Sarah had informed him about.
"She had this with her," Batman said. "She must've taken it from Masn at some point,"
Gordon took the bullet from Batman and examined it closely. After a bit, he confirmed his thoughts.
"Yep," he nodded. "It's the same calliber that shot Luke and Jennifer, and Matthew McCallister; even matches the gun and the bullet we found on Edgar. He drowned clutching the sucker,"
Putting the bullet in his pocket, Gordon sighed.
"...You know," he said, "Luke and Jennifer, God rest their souls, they would've thought you were an interesting character. They weren't like any other cop in Gotham. If they saw something that needed to changed for their greater good, they set a goal to change it...I guess, Sarah, she might've carried out their dying wish. Or tried to, in a way...Either way, they weren't always alone in their investigations...I'm sure they would've liked to meet the man who saved their daughter tonight,"
Gordon sighed again as he leaned against the brick wall.
"I'll never forget the look on that girl's face the day her parents died," he said sadly. "...I was the one who had to tell her the news. I--I was afraid on how she would react. I mean, would she cry? Would she laugh and say 'That was a good one, Jim. I'll have to tell my dad about that for April Fools Day'?...Would she call me a liar and say that it wasn't true?...That her parents would always be there for her...But when I told her, all I got was a blank face...It--It was as if the whole world suddenly left her. The life she knew was gone. That light was gone from her eyes, it was almost as if she had died too...She never spoke for a week...But then you come along, and she's this whole new person...Heh...Her mother was always like what she is now...Look, what I'm trying to say is that you've done something so wonderful for Sarah. You gave her something to hope for, so that she knows that someone was there for her,"
Gordon looked up at the Dark Knight, who had been patiently listening to Gordon, and sort of smiled.
"You gave her a friend," he said.
"...She gave me a friend first," Batman said. "She trusted me. I trusted her...She's a friend of mine,"
WAYNE PENTHOUSE
All was silent now. Nothing but the darkness watched over me through the night as I felt myself waking up. My head still ached, but only for a short while until it started decreasing just a tiny bit. I kept still, wanting to go back to sleep some more, but I couldn't. A gut feeling told me to stay awake for just a little while longer. I felt a sudden chill of wind blow on my face as a window opened, but it was gone as soon as it was closed. The wind had felt so good that I wished it would kiss my cheeks again, but I wanted to sleep more than anything. A little while later, I hear footsteps coming closer to me casually, as if the person thought I was still in a deep sleep. Someone sits on my bed beside me, and I hear a small thud on the table next to me, something being placed there. A hand is placed on my forehead for a millisecond and is quickly drawn back. It seemed I still had that high fever. I tried to remember what happened before I came here, but my thoughts were more focused on the sounds of droplets dripping into what sounded like a bowl of water. A small twist of a bottle cap is taken off and I hear a small trickle as whatever the bottle's contents were muffled a bit, kind of from a washcloth or something. It is placed on the table with the same thud sound and the person shifts their position, leaning forward so I can feel their shadow above me. The washcloth is placed on my head, where a wound was, I suppose, and I'm suddenly attacked with a familiar stinging sensation. My wound prickles and feels like it's scratching this one area of my head. It's really painful. I can't control my winces. I have to--no--I need to do something to get my mind off the pain. But there's nothing, and all I can do is just sit up abruptly, squeezing my eyes tightly.
"Ah!" I whimper softly and move a hand to touch my head.
Before I could even touch the wound, my hand was gently caught by someone else. They were rough, but gentle; strong, but had this kind of caring feeling running through their fingers. My head still stung though. I winced and whimpered again as I was lowered back down on the soft mattress.
"Easy," I heard a familiar voice. "Just lay back down and relax. No one's going to hurt you here. You're safe,"
"Where am I?" I asked softly.
",You're home,"
I fluttered my eyes open, and my vision clears up from all the blurs to find Batman looking down at me. I take in my surroundings, finding that I was in a giant bed, covered by thick blankets, my head propped up on fluffy pillows. I moved a little bit, feeling a giant bandage on my side. I was in a set of warm green flannel pajamas that were almost a size too small for me. From the corner of my eye, I could see the small bowl of water, and that yellow tinted medicine that was once used for my leg. But something was missing.
"Where's Bruce?" I asked softly again.
I wanted my godfather with me. I missed him. I was worried about him. Where was he? Batman didn't answer as he patted the washcloth on the gash above my left eye. I winced, but not so much.
"Batman..." I asked again, worried a bit. "Where's my godfather?"
"At the police department," Batman answered me this time."Filling out some papers"
"...And Alfred?"
"He's there also. I told them I would take the night shift here in case you woke up sooner than we thought,"
I laid there, understanding, but not so much. My head was still hurting.
"How long was I asleep?" I wondered.
"...I pulled you out of the water around midnight and you brought you here like your godfather wanted me to. It's almost 5 A.M...I thought I lost you back there,"
I furrowed my eyebrows a bit.
"What?" I exclaimed softly, a bit confused.
Batman hesitated before answering.
"You were near dead when I saved you, Sarah," he said, avoiding eye contact. "Another five seconds, and you would've been gone,"
It took a moment for me to realize what had happened. Then I remembered everything that happened to me that night. And I mean everything. It was like some horrible nightmare that came in both reality and dreams. Unforgettable events that haunted me instantly. It was like, all of a sudden, I had really woken up. My eyes turned wide.My head was racing. I felt like I couldn't breathe. But I stay quiet, as though any sound I would make would cause something horrible to happen.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Batman suddenly asked.
His voice broke into my thoughts and I look at him. Those light green eyes had no emotion in them, but that didn't mean that there wasn't any feeling in them. They also looked hard and stubborn, an unseen anger bottled up, waiting to explode at the right moment. His face was still and expressionless. I didn't understand what he was asking me.
"What do you mean?" I asked softly.
"Why didn't you tell me that Edgar was the one who killed your parents?" Batman asked me again.
There was a small growl hidden in his voice. I knew it. He was angry. I said nothing and lowered my eyes to avoid looking at him.
"I--I was--" I said softly. "...I don't know,"
"I know you don't know," Batman started to scold. "What I don't know is why someone won't tell anyone they found the murderer of their parents. How long have you known? When did you find out?"
"...Two nights ago,"
"The night you were on the roof?"
"...Yes,"
"And how long before our meeting did you know that he killed your parents?"
"..About five minutes...Right after he beat me and I hit my head on his desk and the floorboard that was hiding the gun,"
"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ON THE ROOF? SARAH, YOU COULD'VE STOPPED ALL THIS. YOU WOULD'VE BEEN HERE SOONER THAN YOU THOUGHT RATHER THAN ON THE BRINK OF DEATH AT ARKHAM ASYLUM! YOU WERE ALMOST DEAD WHEN I GOT YOU OUT OF THE RIVER! I COULD BARELY FIND A PULSE! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME EDGAR KILLED YOUR PARENTS? JUST TELL ME! WHY?"
"...I was scared,"
"OF WHAT?"
"...Because even if I told you the truth, I would still end up drowning in the river...or be frightened to death at Arkham Asylum...Edgar would still find a way to kill me, even if it took him the rest of his life,"
"...But why try to run away with your cousin to Smallville instead of coming to me, or the police, or your godfather?"
"I thought it would be easier if I just disappeared. I wasn't thinking straight and...wait..."
There was a long silece between us.
"...Batman..." I said in a confused and suspicious tone. "...I never...How did you know that I was running to Smallville with my cousin?"
Batman hesitated to answer as he placed a small square white bandage on the cut on my head. I continued to look at him, wondering how he knew. The more I wondered, the more I remembered all the other times I've been with him: How he knew my parents names, where I lived, my guardianship problem, Mason Mansion, and, maybe, a bunch of other things I never told him.
"...You should thank your cousin if you see him before he leaves tomorrow afternoon," Batman finally answered. "I was at the police station when he came to tell us what he knew and where he thought you were kept,"
Josh came back? He came back to tell the police? How did he know I was kidnapped? Where was he leaving? I stayed quiet, but acknowledge it a bit.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," was all I could say.
"...Get some rest," Batman ordered.
As he got up, I shifted down further under the covers, getting into a better position to sleep in. I winced as I felt the wound on my side sting, but kept it only to myself. Starting to close my eyes to try to sleep, I spoke again in a quiet voice.
"Will I ever see you again?" I asked. "...Batman?..."
No answer. I opened my eyes. No Batman. I craned my head up and looked around in my dark room. He was gone. Vanished. Disappeared. Never to be seen again.I deserved it for not telling anyone about Edgar. But there was so much I had to tell him. So much I wanted to ask him...Oh no! I forgot to tell him that I had his batarang! I sat up instantly, only to stop as I let out a painful gasp, thanks my side wound. I suck the air through my teeth waiting for the pain to pass. Clenched teeth and small, tightly closed eyes softened as the annoying stabs subsided. I exhale and push the covers off of me. I also remembered that I didn't know where the batarag was as I planted my bare feet on the carpet--Meaning, I lost something that didn't belong to me. Pushing myself up and wincing again, I decided that I should tell Bruce, or at least wait for him and Alfred downstairs until they got back from the police station. Quietly, I opened the door and slunked out into the hallway as if I felt I was being followed. Even though I was under the impression that no one was in the penthouse, I had this sudden feeling that I should be quiet. Arms folded across my chest, head sort of looking down to see my feet walk on the solid floor, I felt like I had gone back to the point of my story where I first learned of my parents deaths. I felt quiet, alone, scared, isolated in a dark place with no way in or out. I felt afraid, sad, and feeling as if I had lost my voice for good.
I had.
But something happened. Something awful happened. Something unexpected happened. Something strange. Out of place. Mysterious. Curious. Scary...
...It was the last thing that I thought would ever happen.
Ever.
As I reached the bottom of the staircase, I looked up. My eyes were wide. There was the Batman, sitting in a chair, with his back turned to me. I stay frozen on the spot. I didn't say anything. I felt that if I moved, it would be my last. Oddly enough, I was surprised to discover that he didn't seem to notice my presence, like he usually did. Furrowing my eyebrows in a curious way, I almost dared to make my first step toward him. A noise sounded. It was the phone on the table beside where Batman was sitting. For a millisecond, I stay frozen, before ducking behind the staircase, looking through the small space between the steps as Batman casually picked up the phone.
"Hello?" he answered in a far more human voice. "...Hey...Yes, she's fine...No, there weren't any side effects. Thank you, Mr. Fox,"
Fox? Lucius Fox? The man who works with Bruce in the Applied Sciences Department at Wayne Enterprises? How did he and Batman know each other?
"No," Batman contined. "She's resting right now. She's had a tough two nights; didn't get any real sleep. She looked exhausted...Actually, I got the antidote to her right before the toxin would take control of her mind. A few more seconds and the damage would've become permanent,"
His voice is more familiar than ever. Where have I heard it before? I duck down into the shadows a bit further as Batman stands up to face the window overlooking Gotham in the quiet night.
"I'm afraid the only way Sarah will see Batman again will be on newspapers ad on news broadcasts at 6 o'clock every evening," Batman continued. "...No, I've decided not to tell her the truth,"
The truth? About what? What was he talking about? What was going on here?
"I have to go Fox. I have to get some rest...All right. Thanks again,"
Batman hangs up the phone and walks closer to the window up to the point where I could see his masked face in the reflection. I watch him, waiting for him to leave so I could go back upstairs, so that no one will ever know I had snuck down here. Instead, he sighs as he takes off his gloves and bends down his head, placing his hands on the side of the bat cowl.
My eyes are wide. It was an interesting thing to witness the Batman taking off his mask. It was a sight that I think very few people saw. He keeps his head down as he wipes his eyes with his gloves, probably to take off that black stuff shaded around his eyes.
He has dark hair. He looked younger than I thought he would be. I stand up a bit to get a closer look. His head comes up, his face reflecting in the window.
Those eyes...I know those eyes...I had seen those light green eyes from my godfather.
...That face. I know that face. My godfather has the same face.
My heart is racing. My lips are shuddering. I shake my head in disbelief. No. I can't believe it! I WON'T believe it!
My godfather, Bruce Wayne, was the Batman...the Dark Knight of Gotham!
My head spins. I let out an involuntary gasp. Bruce's head whips around and sees me. Our eyes lock for a moment before he realizes himself what had happened. His face obviously inhibited the look of fear. A fear that he had deep within his heart. He had feared of his goddaughter, me, of finding out his nightly alter ego. I could see in his eyes that he assumed I would never find out. But fate had other plans in mind.
I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. It all seemed like some sort of strange dream. All of a sudden, I didn't know who this man that stood only a few feet away from me was.
Who was he?
Was he the rich, young, handsome, bachelor billionaire that had lived in luxury for most of his life? Was he the man that I saw in muddy clothes as he got on the jet place, returning from his 7-year exile? Was he the man who promised my parents that he would look after me, care for me, and love me as they did? Was he the man who promised me that things would get better?
Or was he the man that came from the darkest shadows of the night? Was he that mysterous guardian angel that rescued me at the docks? Was he the one who showed me what it was like to fly? Was he the one who rescued me from the river that night? Was he the one that I first spoke to since the death of my parents? Was he the reason I was not afraid of the dark anymore? Was he the one who haunted men's dreams with fear and darkness?
I can't say anything. My mouth hung open a little and my body felt frozen in place. What was there to say? How do you start off a conversation with your godfather when, two seconds earlier, you just found out that he was the Batman?
It all seems so dark now. An old familiar friend rises within me. It's too dark.
...I don't like the dark. I don't like it anymore. You don't know what's going on, and you can't see anything.
You feel like you're blind.
...How could I not know? How could I not see? How could I not decipher the clues that were practically given to me on a silver platter?
Bruce was the first to speak, although it took a bit for him to actually start.
"How long have you been standing there?" he asked in a soft, low voice.
What could I say? How could I even speak for that matter? I could still see the Batman in my head, but my mind was telling the truth: I was seeing my godfather in the batsuit. It was like I was in some upside-down world...
...But then I remembered what happened to Bruce when he was younger; when he fell into the well, my well of broken hearts; when those masses of bats attacked him.
When I looked up, I instinctively took a step back. As I was thinking, Bruce had slowly walked toward me to where I was hiding underneath the stairs. My back was up against the wall. Bruce had come close enough to where he could touch me with an outstretched arm. I couldn't look away from him. He looked at me sternly, but concerned, wondering why I was taking so long to answer him.
"Sarah?" he asked again.
Again, I said nothing. Instead, I did the unthinkable. The moment I saw those eyes, those eyes whose mysterious identities were revealed to me a minute before, I ran. Going past my godfather in a lightening bolt pace, I rushed to the steps of the stairs, trying to get upstairs to my room as fast as I could. Maybe if I hurried, I could reach my bed in time to wake up and find that all of what I had seen in the past five minutes was nothing more than a dream; a nightmare that was an effect of the traumatic of the night Edgar died and I almost drowned. I would then wake up and find everyone I have ever loved around me.
No. I change my mind. When I wake up, I want my parents in the kicthen at the old apartment in the Narrows. I want my mom making chocolate chip pancakes with bacon. I want my dad sitting at our old kitchen table reading The Gotham Times, drinking a hot cup of coffee out of the "Best Dad In The World!" I had given him for Father's Day, with which I saved a month's allowance for. I want to wake up in my small room in my twin sized bed from a bad nightmare.
I WANT ALL OF THIS TO BE A DREAM! NOT REAL! AS IF MY PARENTS WERE STILL ALIVE!
"Sarah! Wait!" Bruce shouted from behind me
I didn't listen. I didn't even WANT to listen. As far as I was concerned, I may as well have been dreaming all this, so why listen to something that wasn't real? Bruce couldn't be Batman! It wasn't possible! He was afraid of bats! None of this was making any sense. Everything was turning upside down.
I had left the bedroom door open so I would be able to find it again. Grabbing the doorknob, I rushed into the room so I could close and lock the door. But when I looked in front of me, Bruce was rushing to get to the door before I would be able to close it and lock him out. I firmly stuck my foot by the door to serve as a door stopper so I could stop him from coming in. A heavy jolt against me had started a struggle between my godfather and I to either open or close the door. The doorknob twisted and turned in my hand as Bruce tried to open the door wide enough for him to get in. No way is he coming in. No way.
"Sarah, let go of the doorknob, and let me in," Bruce said in a stern, commanding voice as he stopped for a moment.
I continued to try and push him with the door, but it would only move a few centimeters. Digging the heel of my barefoot into the floor while the other foot was stopping the door, I firmly place both of my hands on the door, trying to push it close. Bruce continued to fight against me.
"Sarah, let me in!" he almost shouted.
"No..." I softly say, shaking my head.
I was slipping a bit. Not good.
"Sarah, let me in right now!"
"No," I say again, a little louder this time.
No Bruce. I can't let you in. I won't let you in. I don't want to be lied to again. What if he tried to tell me that I was just dreaming? What if he told me that him being Batman wasn't what I was thinking? What if he told me that I was still suffering hallucinations left over from Crane's fear toxin?
But what if I was dreaming? What if I was imaining things? What if Bruce wasn't Batman? What if I was hallucinating?
I shook my head. Whatever the case, I didn't want to face anyone who would only just lie to me. With one burst of strength I had in me, I violently pushed the door closed with all my might, locking it with quick agility before my godfather would try to get in. I backed away as the doorknob rattled and the door shook as Bruce shouted my name, ordering me to let him in. What was I going to do? I couldn't stay in here foever. Besides, Bruce was strong enough to break the door down. One thing I knew for sure, I couldn't just stand there. Backing away, I looked around myself, trying to see if there was anything at all to help me. There was nothing so far. The door in front of me shook violetnly. I jumped, tripping over a few items from a table in front of the bed that I tried to cling onto. They came down to the floor with me, glass shattering and heavy items thudding and clattering by my covered head.
"Sarah!" Bruce shouted even louder through the door. "Open the door right now!"
I wasn't listening. When I fell down, the glass of a picture frame had broken into pieces. I looked up to find the picture it had, which was now surrounded by shards of sticking glass...
A younger version of my mother was staring right back at me with a happy smile, almost looking like me when I was happy. It was the same picture I saw in Bruce's old room back at Wayne Manor. A younger version of my godfather, and Rachel standing on either side of my mother. They were smiling too. They looked happy...Had I even seen those bright smiles before? Everything seemed so simple in the City of Gotham when they were my age. There were no murders. No godfather's who just appeared out of thin air. No large amount of money that was waiting to be inherited when I came of legal age. No private schools. No mobsters. No corrupt cops. No asylum directors who dressed up as scarecrows. No toxin that made you hallucinate the things you were most afraid of. No abusive uncles who were trying to kill you. No men who became bats at night trying to protect a doomed city. No secret identities. No lies. No secrets. No deceit whatsoever. Everything just seemed so...so...
I tilted the picture so I could see my reflection in the broken shards. Did I see a happy face? No. I saw a sad little girl, recovering from the horrrific events that were brought upon her by a man full of hate that had been built up inside for twelve years. I shook my head, my face twisting with anger and pain. I ignored the fact that the door stopped shaking and focused more on my thoughts. I was angry for what Edgar had done to me these past few weeks. Angry at the fact that Bruce had been lying to me so that I wouldn't find out about him being Batman. The door behind me was opening. In the heat of the moment, I turned back to the door, throwing the picture frame to the wall with a yell of rage. As Bruce entered the room with a key he had found, he flinched as the picture frame hit the wall beside him, shattering more glass into smaller shards. Before he had time to recover from his moment of shock at my behavior, I made a dash to get past him and out the door. Unfortunetly, he was snapped back to reality, and grabbed me around the waist, but also trying to be careful to not hurt me on my side wound. Thrashing, kicking, and struggling to get out of his grip, I fought my godfather with a burst of energy that I had never known before.
"Let go of me!" I screamed. "Let go! Let me go! Let go!"
It seemed that Bruce wasn't affected by my struggles. He just dragged me back into the room, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around my waist. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get away from my godfather. He was too strong for me to fully take on. Each time I moved to try and free myself, a part of my body would twinge or ache with pain; most of my shoutings of protest were filled with anguish. Still, I kept on fighting, hoping to win this battle against the man who was both Batman and Bruce Wayne.
"Let go!" I shouted again.
"Sarah," Bruce fastened his grip on me and calmly spoke. "Listen to me--"
I shook my head. No. Don't lie to me. I won't listen to you.
"Yes, Sarah," Bruce sternly said as if I protesed him verbally. "You have to listen to me if you want to know what's going on. That means that you are going to have to stop struggling, look at me, and listen--"
Again, I didn't want to listen to Bruce. A few, short seconds later, I managed to free myself, breaking into a run once more toward the open bedroom door. Of course, Bruce was a faster runner than I was, so he closed and locked the door before I even had a chance to get out. I back away quickly to a dark corner of the room, feeling trapped...I was trapped. Bruce stood a few feet away from me, his entire body still, and a pleading sort of look on his face. I could tell from his face that this wouldn't be an easy task to deal with. But I still didn't want to listen to him. I still believed that Batman and Bruce Wayne were two, very different people. My whole body shook with fear, anger, and confusion, and beads of sweat ran down my forehead. Hesitantly, Bruce took a step toward me, his hands in front of him showing that he didn't mean any harm.
"Sarah..." he softly started. "Look at me..."
I didn't need an order to look at someone I was already looking at. Once more, I had found myself lost in those light green eyes. Many times before had I questioned myself on where I had seen those eyes before...and they all occured between two people...
...Batman and Bruce Wayne...
...The Dark Knight and my godfather...
...My trusted ally and my best friend...
For a few seconds, everything between us was quiet. Still. Not a word was spoken...Then I crumpled to the ground, breaking into sobs that I had held for a long time. How could this have happened? I didn't udnerstand. My head rested against the wall, and though I shook violently with fearful sobs, my body felt heavy to move as it sunk to the ground. The moment I had started crying, Bruce had rushed to my side. He was now on his kness beside me, a hand on my shoulder trying to see my face. I didn't want to. I mean, I couldn't. I didn't have to. Bruce's face was still in my head, his masculine figure still clad in the Batman cape and armor.
"Sarah..." he started to say.
His voice was soft. Sypathetic. It was as if he was trying to get the tone of his voice to say that he was sorry for not telling me the truth about him. The truth about Batman. I shook my head, a part of me refusing to listen to my godfather. Yet, there was another part of me that wanted to ask him:
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Still, I cried, even as Bruce gently pulled me into his arms, wrapping them around my shaking body. I had even found myself hugging him back, crying on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he softly whispered to my ear.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, trying to swallow another sob with no success.
"...I'm sorry,"
I grew tired. Restless. Impeccably confused, but perfectly aware of what was happening. My head started to feel like a sack of cinder blocks, too heavy to lift up. The sobs that I had made and the tears that I had spilled forced my throat to be painfully sore, and my eyelids to close in a sudden weariness. Sensing my fatigue, Bruce started to put his arms under my legs and my arms, lifting me off the ground. The aches and pains in my sides struck me with a vengeance, but only made me whimper uncomfortably.
"Shh," Bruce whispered. "I know. I know...I'm sorry this happened to you,"
Bruce sat down on the bed with me in his arms, his back resting against the headboard. He had his cape still on and he used it as a substitue blanket. Wrapping it around me, I felt a comforting warmth in his arms and in the cape. But I felt confused. This was Batman's cape. Not Bruce's. Or was it Bruce's cape and not Batman's?
"You need to sleep," I heard an echoing whisper in my ear. "...Sleep..."
And so I did, hoping that tomorrow would be a brighter day.
(A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, you guys. I had work, and school ending, and I had to make sure that I had this chapter fit perfectly in the best way that I could. Hopefully I did, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. But first, I'd like to get your opinion on "The Dark Knight"
fanfiction I am trying to plan out with Sarah in it.I'm pretty sure you are all psyched about the movie coming out. I have as well, considering I took a field trip in Chicago with my French 2 class on the day they started filming a block away from where we were going. Filming the bank robbery scene with the school buses, to be more exact. lol.. But, I would like to hear what you would like to see in that. The only interesting thing I have already is the Joker having something to do with Sarah's past...Hmm..Review please. That is the only spoiler I will give for that particular story. -)