Title: Whose is the face in the mask?
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Phantom of the Opera
Warnings: implied bad things happening to children
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 290
Point of view: third
Prompt: any, any, "I didn't grow bitter, I just grew up."
John used to make up stories about Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne was every hero ever, and he saved the world, and he always looked out for the kids everybody else forgot about. Bruce Wayne was Batman, John was sure of it, and he had most of the other kids at the home believing it, too, until Bruce Wayne actually visited one day, a model on his arm.
He was nice, and he was funny, and he was so obviously not Batman- John's still surprised he was the only one to recognize the mask.
John still can't believe no one else has ever seen through it.
.
John knows what his colleagues and superiors believe about him. He's naïve. He's idealistic. He'll be chewed up and spit out by the system that failed him once before.
He smiles at them. He follows orders. He's a good cop, with a bright future. Hell, one day he might even be commissioner, if he doesn't die first.
John is not naïve. He's sure as fuck not idealistic.
No one's looking out for the kids everybody else forgot about. So he will.
.
Bruce Wayne was Batman.
Batman died a hero.
John stands in the cave as it lights up, and he knows no one he used to know will believe this.
.
John used to make up epics about Bruce Wayne.
Now, he's thinking about taking up the cowl. He had dreamed about being a hero, back when he was still waiting for someone to save him.
He saved himself by wearing a mask for so long he became it.
Now's his chance to make it real.
.
No one's looking out for the kids everybody's forgotten about.
So John takes a deep breath and goes to work.