My SpaceHey Kitten - pauldanospacehey (2024)

Chapter 1: The Request

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It was late at night on a chilly September evening. The chill was just right where I had to put on my wool socks but not enough to where I had to grab my Batman (hate) blanket. We never got socks like this back at the orphanage. We got thin socks that wore holes through after the first couple of wears. Us orphans always got the short end of the stick, thin paper socks over socks with Power Rangers and Pokémon. One of the many injustices faced by me as a small little boy.

I just finished slandering society and all its corruption on my latest blogpost. The internet was truly a gift. I glanced at The Catcher in the Rye on my bedside table. It reminded me about my feelings towards Bruce Wayne, the "orphan". As Holden Caufield would say he's a rich ass phony. So full of himself. He doesn't understand the struggle of us real orphans. The pain and suffering forced upon us. All the false lies and hope of renewal. AVEEEEE MARIAAAAAAAA. I spent nights with rats nibbling at my feet and cramped alongside 29 and half children suffering the same fate. Forgotten by the society that has abandoned its most vulnerable (kids without father figures).

The internet was my life, most people for this would call me incel. But personally, I found my work important to expose the corruption within Gotham– edgier New York City. It was polluted with false hopes, corruption, and the mentally ill. Speaking of the mentally ill, not only am I an orphan, but also I am lactose intolerant. It was practically my only flaw. I remembered being a young boy gathering with the other orphans outside waiting to hear the sweet tunes of the ice cream truck. As the truck pulled up, all the other children rushed to its side. I stayed behind... I read the side of the truck looking over my options and there were no ice pops... no dairy free options. I gripped my fist like the Arthur meme... there was nothing for me here. ONCE AGAIN SOCIETY HAS OUTCAST THE LESS FORTUNATE LEAVING US TO ROT. Promising hope yet denying it to those most vulnerable. It began to rain, downpour even, as all the other orphans returned with their minion ice creams and fudgesicles. I stomped my foot, but my shoes didn't light up because they never gave us poor orphans light up sketchers or twinkle toes. Goddamn I always wanted to twinkle toes. But they were reserved for fake orphans like Bruce Wayne or children with parents. I rushed back inside with hatred and anger in my heart. Society and its cruelness. This is why I purchased a copy of Catcher in the Rye.

Recently a new false hope had appeared in Gotham– The Batman. A vigilante that the police, unsurprisingly, relied on because they couldn't do their own jobs. ACAB. And no one had seen The Batman's face, his true identity– I had taken it upon myself to unmask him. The glowing symbol in the sky mocked me as I hovered over my computer and newspaper clippings tacked to the wall. The lyrics to Creep by Radiohead echoed throughout my apartment. How could Gotham actually believe that a vigilante could single handedly save the corrupt, decaying society? A vigilante would need the money, resources– only someone rich would have. The thought repulsed me.

DING. Suddenly I got a friend request on SpaceHey. I always got friend requests; I was kind of a big deal. It was from user xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx. Quite a mysterious name, I got requests all the time but this one caught my eye. I liked the name Dark Knight. I clicked on the profile. It was an L anime profile picture. I loved Death Note and related to Light Yagami. I didn't want people to think I was gay because I wasn't. I flirted with females sometimes and even requested to follow them on my socials. But god damn, I thought L was so hot (I wanted to look like him). He really knew how to expose corruption. I'd let him corrupt me, but in a straight way. I might have been a heartless incel, but I secretly wanted an L to my Light, particularly a female because I wasn't gay. You would think an absolute catch like myself who understood the corruption of society and inner mechanisms of the world would have gotten a female by now, but I was just too busy exposing corruption. Married the #grind (female). I wasn't gay. I knew this because I wrote this over and over again in my manifestation journal. But, back to the point... I was intrigued. As I scrolled through xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx's profile I took notice of how useful they would be to helping expose the corruption within Gotham. I accepted. Nearly immediately after xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx began typing...

Chapter 2: Alfred helps me slide into his DMs

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I needed vengeance. I was vengeance. The vengeance Gotham deserved. The hero, not the sandwich, Gotham deserved. The Batman. Also known as Bruce Wayne, have I mentioned my parents died yet? I am an orphan. I was also fatherless, not completely though I had Alfredo... I mean Alfred. Who raised me after my parents died. Just so you know they are dead. I was also emo, not because my parents died, and I isolated myself with a butler in my secluded mansion after my parents died as I never had taken the time to process their deaths after they died (my parents) and never built the connections I needed as a kid because my parents died. It was just how I am, it had nothing to do with the fact my parents died. The aesthetic was just appealing. As I said nothing to do with no daddy.

But there I was... the Batman setting up a SpaceHey. It was part of my undercover mission. Recently an incel had been terrorizing Gotham, he went by the name of Riddler. I found a Reddit post pointing to his main base of operations on this website. Alfredo was beside me helping me set it up; he had a popular blog about parenting advice and raising emo teenagers, and I also needed parent or guardian permission. I was an orphan. Even as the Batman I faced struggles, particularly with the internet and its... culture. I didn't know about SpaceHey until a few hours prior and now there I was struggling to pick out a username. Alfredo had given me a guide on internet safety a while back after getting banned on Animal Jam after telling a child to "f*ck off" because they tried to scam me over a trade request, I was just trying to bring them to justice. But reading was for nerds, so I ignored it.

The pressure of picking out a username was overwhelming. I was used to fighting crime and taking on multiple men (or women) at once. I was quite good at it actually... It was kind of what I did even though my parents died. I had to relax. I didn't put on music that much, but I decided it was worth a try. I only listened to a few bands, but you wouldn't know since they're kind of underground, like the Batcave, one of them was called Nirvana. I told you wouldn't know them. That was what I decided to listen to. I queued up the tunes, and I picked my favorite: Something in the Way.

With that I sat back down, sighing as I stared at the enter username option on SpaceHey. After moments of deep, pensive thinking like I always do, I typed in "Bruce Wayne". That was my name, after all.

"Master Bruce, you can't just put your real name if you're going undercover," Alfredo— I mean Alfred— said.

"Right," I growled (I growled a lot), then began typing "The Batman" until my butler advised against it. He didn't even let me use Vengeance. Bitch.

"Why don't you pick words to describe yourself, sir?", he suggested.

Hmmmmmmmm. That was actually not a bad idea. Let's see... Well, I was Batman. WAIT! No. I couldn't say that. What else, I was emo... and edgy... and I had these really thick arms. I typed in Batmannotfound, because I wasn't Batman right now. But Alfredo quickly shook his head no and gave a soft little plea. I deleted it...what other words... dark. Hmmmm. THAT'S IT! I quickly type in xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx. There: the perfect username. I turned to Alfredo. He cringed a bit and winced.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

"This is probably as good as we're going to get, Master Bruce," he replied in an irritated tone. He then shook his head and put his face in his hands. He just didn't understand.

"What else would it be?" I asked in a harsh tone.

"You're stuck with this username forever, sir...what if you don't relate to it in the future or grow out of this...this... phase."

"IT'S NOT A PHASE!" I shouted back and then hit enter.

Next, I had to design my profile. Since Alfredo kept telling me to not reveal myself as Bruce Wayne or Vengeance, I put "not batman" or anything similar every chance I could. No one would even guess I was Bruce Wayne now. Choosing the profile picture was the hardest part. With the help of my butler, we decided upon L from Death Note. If you couldn't tell, I tried modeling every aspect of myself after him (I wasn't a kinner). He was so emo and edgy and cool. The Riddler and I were like Light Yagami and L. I needed a Light Yagami in my life.

I clicked on the Riddler's profile. Wow, he was sure SpaceHey famous. He made it very clear that his mission was to eradicate the corruption in Gotham. My cursor hovered over the instant message option... I hesitated then clicked it.

How should I break the ice? I had no idea how to start a conversation with this man. I quickly opened DuckDuckGo and searched "icebreakers for talking to men". I scanned through my options, all this internet lingo. Luckily, Wikihow with images helped me understand. Still, I had no idea what it meant. I opened Urban Dictionary and searched "what is sliding into the dms". I was horrified.

"I'm interested in joining your movement" Sent. The Riddler immediately began typing. This man was chronically online.

"What do you think of Gotham's politicians and institutions?" he asked.

"they're totally corrupt i hate them. also ACAB" Alfredo taught me what ACAB was.

"They are truly corrupt. A disease, even. This corruption obviously extends to the rich elitists. What do you think of Bruce Wayne?"

This guy was definitely smart and hated rich people. I was rich, but I needed a response that he wanted to hear. I opened a new tab and found the Urban Dictionary. I searched teen phrases– the more about hating capitalism, the better. I found the perfect one.

"well i'm not him...but eat the rich," I replied.

"I concur. We share the same ideals. To prove your allegiance to my revolution, I have an assignment for you. Reply, unless you have any qualms."

This guy must have been a total loser with his advanced vocabulary. How could I take on one of his assignments as Vengeance? Before I could think of an answer, a white light caught the corner of my eye. The bat symbol illuminated the dark Gotham sky. How long had it been on? I must have lost track of time. I logged off and grabbed my motorcycle helmet and black eyeliner. As I was running out Alfredo called to me,

"Don't forget the lunch I packed for you, sir!"

Oh yeah. I love PB and Js, with the crust cut off (of course). He also included a carton of milk; I hope it was chocolate today. His SpaceHey was dedicated to packing lunches, it was really popular. He writes me little notes and sh*t and adds custom bat picks to my food. It was totally lame.

I thought about how my parents died again. Not that I do it often. Not that it's really important but they're dead. In case you didn't know.

Chapter 3: Milk Cartons are Symbols for Society

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THAT BITCH LEFT ME ON READ. It wasn't like I really cared anyway, it wasn't like I was having fun or anything. I was wary of this new recruit, idk if he was chronically online enough... I would have to ask him for his Reddit or if he listened to Lemon Demon. Why did he leave all of a sudden? I thought that he seemed interested in my movement; I guess he had qualms.

I debated whether to kill someone, a corrupt political figure ofc, or to live stream to my fans. As I was pondering this decision, I decided to create a poll and let my followers decide. I typed up a quick tweet with a poll attached. I loved Twitter. It was another one of my many hobbies.

As I waited for the results of my poll, I decided to play with my rats and cut out pictures and newspaper clippings of the Batman. I was basically an extreme couponer but replaced the coupons with Batman's big buff arms. I hated him though. It wasn't like I craved motherly love and wanted to be held and cradled and told I am worth something... NOOOOOOOOOOO. I just hated him a lot, his arms were stupid.

I checked the poll again and had received many replies; I was a very popular twitter user. The majority of my oomfs chose a live stream. I knew they would want to hear me talk about the corruption of our city and see my pretty face. Sometimes I gave my followers what was called Special Song Time every time we reached a subgoal. Back in the orphanage I used to be a part of the choir. A little song boy who sang the church hymns... AVVVVVVVVVEE MARRRIIIIEEAAA. I was quite talented, I also specialized in bird calls and cruelty, like the orphanage physics teacher. She was a flapper in a past life and never seemed to let go of her time in the speakeasies. I began to set up for the stream. I walked into my secluded streaming room. I put on my mask and let the rats out. As I was setting up the camera, I noticed the bat symbol and hissed violently through my teethies. This stupid vigilante who thought he had the right impose justice and aid this corrupt society. UGH! I was starting to get angry... It made me think of church songs. I quickly decided the stream was going to be a Batman hunting one. I hoped to catch a glimpse of his buff arms (WHICH I HATED). I was going to expose him. I started the stream singing Halleluiah, if only that new recruit would join. I could have assuaged all his qualms, and it would have been a good experience for him in the community. DAMN.

Anyways I set out for Batman. The stream was going wild with bloodlust (and regular lust). Just as I got outside to start the chase, I realized I forgot my Guardian Dairy Relief Fast Acting Lactase, 360 Caplets, 9000 FCC Maximum Strength, Lactose Intolerance Pills, Lactase Enzyme Supplement (360 CT). I put the camera down and ran on all fours up the stairs to retrieve it. Then I set out sprinting on the streets of Gotham spitting at the pedestrians as I passed by, the corrupt ones ofc. I ran swiftly, stan Taylor, into a random trash can (la basura in Spanish). It was an accident, but I played it off. My followers ate it up and spammed pogchamps in the chat. It reminded me of the time in the orphanage when I fell down the trash chute. That was where I found my Riddler suit and befriended the rats. It was a corrupt trash chute. It reminded me of Bruce Wayne, an empty vessel filled with GARBAGE and privilege, and fueled my passion for exposing the corruption within the city.

I rushed around the city running towards where the Bat Symbol was last projected in the sky. Finding that cabrón wouldn't be too difficult. Besides, the official Sigma Male Test The Most Accurate 2022 Updated Quiz told me I was a mega sigma male, and you can't spell Batman without beta. I repeated those thoughts to the chat, and they all began to spam "KEKW". The stream was going great as I continued running, my followers updated me and gave me any hint they could, and I educated them of the corruption within Gotham. Midway through we hit a subgoal, so I sang them a sweet little choir tune. While doing it, a man threw a shoe at me, that corrupt bastard. I continued running, then I heard the sounds of fighting and grunting a little far over. I knew I was close. Close to him, that sick bastard. I couldn't wait to see his buff arms because I hated them so much.

I ducked behind the conner and positioned the camera to face the alleyway where I heard the noises. As I turned, I saw a glimpse of a black figure leaving the scene. The figure I instantly recognized as Batman, it had really big arms and reeked of renewal. I looked up as he shouted "PARKOUR" and leapt to the roof.

His buff arms gripped the roof as he pulled himself up and ran into the night. The stream was going WILD. Many with excitement and bloodlust coursing through their veins. Many were excited to have seen him, and others angry. Why didn't he stop or shout? I wondered why I didn't also; the truth is I was in AWE. His arms were just so BUFF, lovely, and made you feel like a little baby who needed to be held. When I looked at him, I saw myself within those arms... IN LIKE A FIGHT OF COURSE. I didn't want to be held by him. He probably had cooties and I hated him, and he was gross. I quickly calmed the stream down and told them it was all pogchamp and part of my master plan. My followers were loyal.

I was so captivated by Vengeance's arms that I didn't even notice the sound of something clattering on the concrete as he pulled himself up. I couldn't go after him, of course, because I lacked upper body strength. The alley was dark, so I pulled out my flashlight to inspect the clue left behind. My face plummeted. I could barely hold the flashlight straight since my hand was quivering. A reminder of the horrors of my past made my grip tighten, knuckles turning white.

It was a milk carton. This was a sign of war. It had to be. The Batman must have known about my intolerance to lactose— he wanted to mock me. The only sound I could utter was a guttural scream. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Guardian Dairy Relief Fast Acting Lactase, 360 Caplets, 9000 FCC Maximum Strength, Lactose Intolerance Pills, Lactase Enzyme Supplement (360 CT); I took the entire box. I screamed in agony.

"NO NO NO NO.... NO! NO!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA THIS WAS NOT HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO!"

I collapsed to the ground in the dark alley, my flashlight and phone slipping out of my hands. I could only sob as the rage filled the blood in my veins. Vengeance had played a cruel and unusual joke on me. He was using my trauma to get into my head. It was a heinous crime. Once again, I was that scared little choir boy staying behind as the other orphans enjoyed their frozen dairy treats from the ice cream truck.

When my sobs slowed and grew quieter, I suddenly heard notifications coming from my stream. I WAS STILL LIVE. I immediately began to panic. I thought of all the possible chat messages, all making fun of me. How could my followers see me in such a state? They needed a strong leader to take down Gotham. My breathing quickened, and I impulsively ended the stream without an explanation. For the first time I was actually hesitant to check all of my social media platforms. I could already see the trending tab on Twitter: "riddler /neg". I felt a cold fluid pooling around my knees. It was the milk. To make it worse, it was chocolate. Double whammy. I started to cry again, desperately grabbing all of my things and stumbling home, defeated.

Chapter 4: Don't Cry over Spilled Chocolate Milk (emotional)

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I slammed the door to the Batcave entrance emotionally. I DROPPED ALL OF MY LUNCH! INCLUDING THE CHOCOLATE MILK! Black tears streamed down my face just like when MCR broke up. I cried for MCR but not my parents, if you didn't know they were dead. My eyeliner wasn't waterproof. It looked more emo and edgy that way.

"What seems to be the matter, Master Bruce?" Alfredo asked.

"I lost my lunch while doing epic parkour," I growled back. I was doing parkour the day my parents died. They are dead if you did not know.

He paused. "Well, why don't I fix you a new sandwich and milk and bring it to you while you work?"

I took a seat at my computer. "Alright," I mumbled. I did have some work to do, unlike my dad. He was going to be mayor but he's dead. I checked Reddit, specifically the r/riddler subreddit. I frequented Reddit a lot, unlike my parents who no longer can (they're dead). There were a ton of new posts since I last checked — none from my parents of course since they are dead. They all had something to do with his latest twitch stream and... milk? I noticed some of the screenshots attached. My jaw dropped. It was MY chocolate milk that I had dropped. I immediately opened my instant messages on SpaceHey.

"i heard what happened on your stream today. what are you going to do?"

"Honestly, Emo Lord, I haven't a single clue," he instantly replied. "I've embarrassed myself in front of my followers who had expected a leader out of me. I've let them all down, but I need them for my revolution".

"maybe you could go live again and explain that you're sorry and that the movement will continue as planned"

"An apology stream? Perhaps... that is a good idea. But I can't just let Batman get away with this. He started a war. I'm going to publicly reveal his identity to Gotham"

I began to sweat. He's going to expose me and ruin my life, I thought. What could I say without making it obvious that I am Batman?

"i'm not batman but if i was i would think that's a bad idea because what if he's some really famous guy everyone loves? that would only make him more popular right?" God I was so good at being undercover.

"You make a good point. I need that vigilante ruined. Permanently. I know how this master plan ends, and I'm going to take him down with me. Would you like to hear my newly formulated plan?"

This was it. I was going to easily evade whatever revenge plot the Riddler had for me once he told me. I was eager to reply until a familiar light took the sky. I winced. I couldn't keep abruptly ending my conversations with the Riddler every time Vengeance was needed. And Alfredo wasn't even done with my sandwich yet. Then I heard police sirens. It was a regular sound of Gotham, but this time it was louder than usual. Uneasy, I threw on my suit and followed the trail of police cars to the crime scene.

It was the mayor's penthouse. An officer, Jim Gordon, escorted me inside. It was clear that I wasn't welcomed here. Awkwardddddd. Like I would always tell my butler, no one ever understands me.

I froze when I saw "NO MORE LIES" scribbled in red ink on the deceased mayor's duct tape- wrapped face. So, this was the Riddler's doing. That was his status on SpaceHey. God, this guy was a total freak.

An officer inspected an envelope that was addressed to... me? Well, The Batman. There was a card inside with an encrypted code and a riddle: What does a liar do when he's dead? He lies still.

I stared at the mayor's son, who was in the apartment. At least he wasn't an orphan. Not like it was a competition or anything, but I was an orphan (if you didn't know), so BOTH of my parents were dead. Officer Gordon arranged another investigation tomorrow that I would assist on. I began having increasingly less time to chat with the Riddler. I almost worried that he would suspect that I was Batman, though I hadn't given him a single reason for him to think so.

Alfredo greeted me once I entered the Batcave. He was holding my new sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk, but I didn't care. The crust was still on anyway. I didn't think that the Riddler would actually MURDER someone. Deep down I knew that this was only the beginning. Gotham could only rely on xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx now, if only they knew of my work on SpaceHey. I needed more information about the Riddler's true identity.

"Your PB and J, sir," Alfredo reminded me.

"I'm busy," I grumbled.

"If I may–" he started, picking up the encryption from the crime scene.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" I snapped. "I was supposed to stop the Riddler, but I just let him murder the mayor!" I punched a hole in the wall next to the old one from when I raged- quit Fortnite.

"This city is turning to anarchy," I huffed between breaths. "Maybe the Riddler's right. This city can't be saved. Only fear can save us now."

The butler left without saying a word. He left the sandwich and milk behind on my desk. I opened SpaceHey.

"why would you kill the mayor?" I asked.

"Where were you? Why did you leave in the middle of our conversation? It's a common occurrence. I need to know that you're dedicated to this movement".

"i just need an explanation. i need to understand. give me a reason to keep following you. I don't even know who you are".

"Then let me tell you about myself to convince you that you can trust me. Me? I'm nobody. Just someone society has forgotten about. I grew up from a seed... tough as a weed... But in a mansion, in a slum... I'll never know where I come from".

"you're an orphan too?" If you didn't know my parents were dead. This nerd clearly had a thing for riddles. I still needed to know more.

Chapter 5: HEYYY BBG. This is what I look like! HBU?

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My new recruit was an orphan? AND he was good at riddles? Some foreign feeling was stirring deep down. I couldn't tell what it was. It was like the feeling whenever I saw Batman's beautifully sculpted, muscular arms like that of a Greek God — which I hated, of course. I still had my reservations about xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx though. He always left in the middle of our conversations whenever things were getting interesting, I wondered what his arm looked like. He might be like Holden Caulfield, annoying and afraid of intimacy.

"I haven't met an orphan since I left that awful place".I always thought I was the only one."Can I confide in you, my Emo Lord? Although I am the face of this movement, sometimes I look in the mirror and still feel like that little orphan choir boy". Even then, the voices in my head sang AVEEEEE MARIIIIIIAAAAAA, like the flapper physics teacher. Her screeches still echo loud enough to vibrate like a tuning fork throughout my wretched soul.

"i'm sure you don't LOOK like a little choir boy, Riddler".

"Oh, but I do. Only a sigma choir boy like myself can break the spirits of these corrupt hooligans with the sweet sound of singing. I am an angel amongst these DEMONS"

"can i see? i promise i won't tell anyone. if you don't want to i understand".

Hm. This was a bold request. But I could be bolder. Maybe this could be a chance for the new recruit to prove himself.

"I'll show you the best photo I have of myself."

Sent. For some reason, I was nervous to hear his response. My palms began to sweat.

"i didn't expect such an... angelic face. in a good way. you ARE the fearsome leader of the no more lies movement. you remind me of an axolotl".

Now this was not the reaction I was expecting. My stomach... fluttered... like a butterfly? I shoved the feeling back down. Ihadto focus on my mission.

"my favorite creature".

What was his motivation here? Thoughts ran rampant through my head just as those rats did in that dumpster. What does this mean? Was he just toying with my fickle emotions?

"You're my only follower who has seen my face. Could I see yours?"

If we could both establish a level of trust, I would be confident that I could confide in him. I waited for a response. And I waited. I kept waiting until I was sure he was gone. Of course he was gone. I wasn't like I missed him or anything. Or the attention he gave me. He didn't make me feel heard or seen or anything like that.But why did he leave?

I paused before looking out the window. I was scared to turn around because I knew what I was going to see. I was right. I was angry. I needed an outlet for my rage. The blood of Gotham's District Attorney would be on xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx 's hands.

Chapter 6: You can't spell funeral without FUN

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The picture slowly loaded onto the screen– the internet was slow. This was it. I was going to see him, the Riddler. I would uncover his identity and finally be able to put an end to this. As the picture loaded, my heart beating with anticipation, and I felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of my face and fall onto the keyboard. I wondered what this man looked like; he was a tough ruthless criminal. A murderer. Only a hardened criminal could pull off something like this. He was strong enough to pin down a man, murder him, and artistically duct tape him. I imagined a strong, tattooed, ruthless, buff man. I then remembered he also had a Reddit and SpaceHey account– as Urban Dictionary would say "chronically online" - and that image of him disappeared from my mind. He must have been the Redditor type— a neck beard possibly, but still strong enough to murder a man. Finally, the picture loaded...

I let out a gasp, and then audibly sighed. He was so... aquatic. He reminded me of a prawn... a shrimp... the whole damn aquarium. Most of all he reminded me of an axolotl. This wasn't how I envisioned him. It wasn't a BAD thing... just surprising, I guess. I quickly wrote back.

"i didn't expect such an... angelic face. in a good way. you ARE the fearsome leader of the no more lies movement. you remind me of an axolotl".

I waited a bit and sent a second message.

"my favorite creature".

I was in shock that he was so willing to show me his face. I noticed him typing. I waited for a response that eventually said,

"You're my only follower who has seen my face. Could I see yours?"

I..I... What was I supposed to send back!!?!!?!? I couldn't let the Riddler know that I was Bruce Wayne. He hated Bruce Wayne; I personally found him really cool and emo, and he had an epic haircut and was really good at eyeliner. His parents were also dead if you didn't know. But I digress; he couldn't know I was Batman either. What was I supposed to send??? I heard about these things called catfishes from Alfredo. I was catfished once on Animal Jam. Sad story. Like the story about how my parents died.

I had no idea how to reply. It had already been a few minutes. I couldn't have him being suspicious. I looked out the window in desperation, and just as I did I saw it. The Bat symbol. I was needed in Gotham. Gotham required its Vengeance. I quickly rushed to the Batcave, forgetting all about the message.

When I returned, I rushed up to the computer. When I opened the computer I saw my age old enemy... the screen time lock. Alfredo had limited me to three hours of screen time per day. It was so annoying. I didn't need parental controls. I didn't even have parents.

"Alfredo... I mean ALFRED come enter in the password for the computer," I shouted down the hall.

"Sir you know there is a three hour time limit... besides, you are to attend the mayor's funeral".

"OMG YOU'RE NOT MY DAD" I growled back. I didn't have a dad; he was dead. I didn't have a mom either, but my dad was the most dead.

"Sir, I hope you are planning on wiping off that eyeliner before the funeral. I understand self- expression is very important to you, but this is a very important event".

"You're not my father Alfredo, stop trying to act like you are! I don't even want to go to the funeral!" I huffed and tried to walk away, but as I was turning Alfredo called out to me and said,

"I got your suit laid out for you. If you get dressed for the funeral in a timely manner, I will allow you to go to Hot Topic this weekend to reward your good behavior".

HOT TOPIC?!?! Alfred forbade me from that store, along with Spencer's. He considered them "degenerate". I was only allowed to shop at Old Navy, Dillard's, and J. Crew (whenever Alfredo was in the mood to splurge) only because he shopped at those places. I couldn't say no to a deal like that.

Regrettably, I put on my suit, sneaking eyeliner in my jacket pocket to put some on my waterline in the car. My butler escorted me to the car, and I got in the back. As soon as the car left the driveway, I whipped out my phone and applied the black pencil eyeliner, smudging it with my fingers so I could look edgier.

There were crowds of people outside of the funeral, including a group of army green- clad protesters chanting "No more lies!". I got out of the car, lowering my head to avoid the camera flashes. I hadn't shown my face in public much since my parents were murdered right in front of me. I was an orphan, so both of my parents were dead.

I ran into Mr. Falcone and Bella Reál before I could make my way to pay my respects to Don Mitchell's family. Well, not to their faces of course. I didn't like talking to people, and besides, it made me seem more edgy and emo. I just stared at his son. At least his mother was still alive because my mom wasn't. Or my dad. The boy started to turn his head– he must have felt my stone cold gaze– when a crash and screams filled the air. It took me half a second to realize what was rapidly approaching me: a car.

Chapter 7: Don't Lose Your Head

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I began orchestrating my plan, fixing together a collar bomb and a remote control. I had originally planned to execute the D.A. later, but I was too angry to wait. Angry at my new recruit who could be Batman, angry at the world, angry at Renewal. I had Gil Colson unconscious and tied up in my apartment as I worked. He would be sent in a car to the funeral for the deceased mayor. And of course, I had to include some riddles and a livestream of the whole thing for my followers who never went outside to watch.

I got my cling wrap and mask ready for the livestream. Methodically, I wrapped the clingy plastic around my head. As I was getting ready, I remembered the new recruit's apology stream idea. It was brilliant. I needed to address my followers. This public execution would be a symbol to my followers that they could trust me to be their leader. I opened Twitch and started the stream.

"Hey riddlertrons, I know that things have been... difficult lately. Something of the lactose and a certain vigilante variety. I just wanted to let you know that there is no need to doubt my leadership. To prove it to you, my fans, our next victim will be executed right in front of Gotham's elite at the mayor's funeral".

I had cleverly used the district attorney to both release my rather homicidal urges after being left on read by xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx and earn the respect of my riddlertrons again. A ding from my phone brought me back into focus; I had a new text message from one of my followers. He had taken Mr. Coulson and put him in the car, on their way to the funeral. The preparations were almost complete. My lips curled into a devilish smile. If only I could see Gotham's terrified faces as the car burst through the building.

"The corruption in Gotham is like a disease– an infection. We are the cure. In a few moments, Gil Coulson, our unfortunate D.A., will be executed in the most public manner for his crimes against the very justice he is supposed to uphold".

Riddles ready, I used my phone to call the district attorney's phone, which was duct- taped to his hand. All I needed was for Batman to answer. My expectations were met– Vengeance was too predictable.

The first thing I noticed was the vigilante's eyes. It wasn't my intention; I had a job to do, but they were piercing behind his mask. The blue irises contrasted with his... eyeliner? I hadn't noticed it before; I had to scan his waterline to confirm it. Why did I feel so warm so suddenly? Had I forgotten to turn on the ceiling fan? No, that wasn't it. I could only imagine how red my face must have been behind my mask. I wasn't... no, I wasn't blushing. The air conditioning must have turned off again; I was wearing a thick jacket after all. I didn't know how long I was silent for before I realized I was still live streaming.

"You came," I whispered, the only words I could manage as I composed myself.

"Who are you?", he asked in a low voice.

I told him the truth: I was nobody. I was an outcast; this cesspool of a city had ostracized me, a poor orphan. I was finally able to orchestrate my Count of Monte Cristo level revenge. And The Batman would soon be part of this too, though he didn't know it yet. I couldn't even introduce myself and my followers to our esteemed guest as I was rudely interrupted by the panicking district attorney:

"Jesus, can we get somebody out here? This thing is gonna kill me-"

"SHUT UP! YOU DESERVE TO BE DEAD AFTER WHAT YOU DID. YOU HEAR MEEEEEEE???!??!?!?!" I shouted into the screen until Mr. Coulson fell silent.

I explained to him the premise of our game: 3 riddles in 2 minutes for the code of the lock, if answered correctly of course. How I loved puzzles and riddles. They were an escape from the horrors of our world.

With the help of Vengeance, Coulson was able to get through 2 of the riddles so far. I was impressed that he was so good at riddles, like xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx. The room began to grow hot again for some reason.

"Okay, okay, okay, don't lose your head, Mr. Coulson! Just one more to go before your time runs out. Last riddle..." I smirked. I would purposely give him one neither him nor Batman could answer.

"If your justice is so select, please, tell us which vermin you're paid to protect".

The vigilante correctly figured it was about the rat, but Coulson was far too afraid to give it up in front of an audience for the sake of the lives of his family and loved ones.

"5... 4... 3... 2... bye!", I cheerfully exclaimed as the blast rang out, sending Batman out of frame. I abruptly ended the stream.

Chapter 8: Let's Say That, Hypothetically, I Liked Men

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I stumbled home after not only surviving a close- range explosion but also an epic parkour fail after testing out my bat wings. I clutched onto the Riddler's letter addressed to me, for evidence purposes of course. Why would he spend that time writing handwritten cards to me? I quickly dismissed the idea, opening up my laptop. I grinned, noticing the screen time was unlocked. Checking SpaceHey, I pulled up my instant messages.

I had totally forgotten all about the Riddler asking me to send a picture of myself in return. He must be so suspicious of me now. What was I to do?! I thought of an ingenious excuse.

"so uhh i my camera broke after i dropped my laptop and i don't have any pictures of myself on here"

"Not a single one?"

"the only picture i have of myself is my arm lol," I responded. It was somewhat true. Alfredo would force me to send pictures of my injuries so he could mend them.

"I suppose that's alright for now; I'll take it."

I held my breath as I hit send.

There was a painfully long hesitation from the other side of the screen before the typing resumed. What was he going to say? The suspense was killing me.

"You have an impressive physique."

The comment made me freeze. It wasn't what I was expecting... at all. I couldn't remember the last time someone complimented me. It made me feel... something. I didn't know what it was. My heart was beating out of my chest, and my face felt flushed. I almost wanted him to realize how much I appreciated it, how seen I felt, until I remembered that I was talking to a serial killer.

"thanks anyway that bombing was crazy i can't believe you set that off when batman was right there"

"It was a thrilling moment. That vigilante... Well, his part in my plan will come soon. But the way he made me feel... It's hard to explain. Do you ever feel like you're overheating for no reason at all? And your chest feels light?"

I reread the message over and over to confirm that I was reading it right. He got that feeling too?

"i know exactly what you're talking about actually i've been getting that feeling recently"

"It's almost a burning excitement. You feel so alive but nervous at the same time."

"and your mind goes blank"

There was a pause. "Forget it. Those feelings are trivial anyways, and I don't really feel it anyways. That question was hypothetical."

Why did he dismiss this so suddenly? Was it something I said? I thought that we were almost... understanding each other.

"right me too"

"Would you like to review some plans with me?"

Before I could respond, I got a text from Gordon. He got a tip that the Penguin was on his way to make a drops deal. My heart sank. I had to leave AGAIN. The Riddler would never trust me now, and my cover would be blown. What would happen then? How would he react? Regrettably, I put on my suit and headed to the location Gordon sent me.

I watched in the pouring rain as the Penguin exchanged money and product with a couple of dealers. The Penguin was an interesting guy; I met him at the Iceberg Lounge. He sounded like Mario, but in a more fatherly way. I didn't have a father, since I was an orphan. Someone must have noticed Gordon as gunshots rang out. I ran for cover to what I cleverly named the Batmobile. The Penguin, noticing me, fled to his car and sped out of the warehouse lot, tires screeching. The chase began.

After some very illegal driving (Alfredo would be so disappointed) and a lengthy chase, Penguin's extremely less cool car flipped over, and I drove through an epic explosion. I approached his car, notifying Gordon so we could shake some answers out of him.

It turned out that the Penguin didn't know anything. At all. The only half helpful thing was "LA rata alada". I opened my gaming laptop I got for my birthday last year and typed in the url. I was met with a message from the Riddler:

"Did you find him? El Rata Alada?"

"Jesus, is this guy in love with you or something?", the Penguin remarked, earning a chuckle from Gordon.

I froze, not believing what I had heard. "W- What did you say?", I choked out.

"Calm down, Vengeance, it was just a joke! I'm just saying, you know... not many enemies write handwritten cards or make elaborate games just to prove a point, that's all".

That sentence hit me like a ton of bricks. It all made sense now. I gripped the laptop tighter, fighting to compose myself in front of the two men. That warm feeling the Riddler had mentioned... was love. It had to be. Alfredo had told me enough stories for me to know. After losing the only two people I loved (my parents, who were dead), I must have... forgotten that feeling.

But I had felt it too, when he complimented my extremely buff arm. No... I didn't love the Riddler. I was just nervous and surprised, that's all. I had to be. I NEEDED to be. He was a madman, and even then, I wasn't gay. I wasn't. I still couldn't shake the feeling that the Riddler was genuinely in love with me. He was OBSESSED with finding the Batman— finding me.

"Sorry kid, did I strike a nerve or something? I believe love is love and all that".

"Let's say, hypothetically, the Riddler likes me...", I started, "A- And sometimes I feel a certain way when I talk to him, but I'm not gay-"

Gordon huffed. "Come on, is this really priority number one right now? We have a clue sitting right in front of us!", he exclaimed, gesturing to the message on the laptop screen.

"Hey, hey, let the kid talk! Look, Vengeance, I think you have some feelings you need to work out. I'm not one to assume, but it sounds like you are attracted to men".

"B- But I can't love him. I don't love him. He's a serial killer".

"Vengeance, we don't choose who we love. We just do. So, what are you going to do about it?"

Those words echoed through my head. I kept repeating them, so I wouldn't forget them. The Riddler loved me. And I... loved him? It still didn't feel quite right; I just needed time. I haven't had a crush before, but I just assumed that I just haven't met the right girl yet. Maybe I still haven't. But I had this feeling, and according to that fatherly Italian man, I had to act on it. What was I going to do?!

Chapter 9: xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx Spelt Backwards is LIAR

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I couldn’t avoid it any longer. As much as it tore me apart, it was time to come to terms with a recent discovery.

The computer screen glowed as I waited for xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx to respond. 5 minutes turned into 10. Distant sirens and a certain symbol in the sky confirmed my worst fear.

My new recruit was Batman. I had been suspicious of him ever since we first talked, but some part of me wanted to ignore it. He had so much potential, giving me advice for my streams… but all he wanted was to take me out- I MEAN DOWN.

Of course, he was going to turn me into the police. My movement would be over, and Gotham would continue to be the rotting, corrupt city it was. I would be… insignificant. In his eyes, the eyes of a vigilante, I was some murderous psychopath that needed to be locked up. He couldn’t actually believe that, right? I don’t know why I cared about what he thought of me.

I wanted to scream, cry even, but I couldn’t move. I just sat and stared at the empty screen; my clammy fists clenched. He must have hated me; he had taunted me with his chocolate milk the other day. I was fortunate to have my Guardian Dairy Relief Fast Acting Lactase, 360 Caplets, 9000 FCC Maximum Strength, Lactose Intolerance Pills, Lactase Enzyme Supplement (360 CT) on me, but I could’ve died if I hadn’t. He had to have known that. So, he thought he had the upper hand: he knew my face, my weaknesses (definitely not buff arms, which he didn’t have) ... but I knew something too.

The Batman was Bruce Wayne. It had taken me quite some time, but I was nearly sure now. I had spent hours analyzing his symmetrical, chiseled face and newspaper reports until I was almost certain.

I could easily plant a bomb at the Wayne estate and get rid of my problem… but I couldn’t for some reason. Carrying out my plans for Gotham would be so much simpler without him. I had easily blown up a person and killed others, so why couldn’t I kill him?

I don’t want to hurt him.

A fleeting, foreign jumble of words in my conscience. I dismissed it immediately. It was like someone had whispered in my ear; it couldn’t have been one of my thoughts. I was supposed to hate him. Part of me didn’t want to let go of the part of Bruce I did know: xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx. I had never opened up more to someone than I did with him. Despite my suspicions, he listened to me and made me feel seen.

Before I could even register what was happening, my fingers were typing away on the keyboard as if my body was betraying my mind. Finally, the screen loaded…

Gay Test- Am I Gay, Straight, or Bisexual? Take this quiz to find out now!

My face plummeted. Surely, I was joking. I had to be. I scoffed at the idea, glancing at my worn manifestation journal on my desk, a memory from my choir boy days. My cursor lingered over the start button before I pressed it. If I was so confident about my heterosexuality, then I’d easily pass.

The quiz started off easy; with questions like, “Why did you decide to take this test?” (I, of course, chose “To make sure that I’m straight!”). I was starting to feel silly for even THINKING I was gay (which I wasn’t).

“Have you ever had non platonic thoughts about someone of the same gender?”

I froze. An image of Batman cradling me in his big, muscular arms appeared in my head. That counted as platonic, I was sure of it. Even if it didn’t, I was so sure of my other answers that one MAYBE wouldn’t affect the outcome.

The quiz became increasingly specific, but as a straight sigma male I managed through. I held my breath after completing the last question. The result screen began to load…

I saw a stripe of red, then orange, then yellow…. NO NO NO NO!!! NO!!!!! I began to panic as the word “Gay” stared back at me. Surely, I misclicked… No, I took my time. How many times did I click “maybe”?? A tear escaped from my eye. I had never felt so defeated.

So maybe I did have a crush on Bruce Wayne. God, it sounded horrible. He represented everything I despised: rich, privileged, fake orphan… yet he still found a way to my heart while he was pretending to be interested in my movement. He did have a great physique though. And it wasn’t like I was OBSESSED with him or anything. I just made him the focus of my plan, studying him for days on end.

It didn’t even occur to me to think of how he felt about me. There was a large possibility that he didn’t love me back.

Those words echoed in my head. No… he had to. It dawned on me that I was nothing without him. No one would remember me. He HAD to love me back because I didn’t know what I would do if he didn’t. I just had to… test him, that’s all.

I would make another letter addressed to the Batman that confessed my undying love for him. Yes… that was going to work. Maybe I would kill someone for funsies too.

It was time to get to work.

Chapter 10: (WAKE ME UP) WAKE ME UP INSIDE

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I slammed my bedroom door and collapsed on my bed. I turned on some music on full volume, ignoring all of Alfredo’s rules. I didn’t care anymore. In a span of two minutes, I had realized that the Riddler was (possibly) in love with me, and that I was apparently gay from Mobster Mario.

Evanescence blasted from the speakers. I stained my pillow with eyeliner tears. I couldn’t bring myself to turn him in. I had all of the information for the GCPD; the Riddler had literally sent me his face. But I couldn’t just leave my feelings unresolved like that. On the other hand, he had killed people, performed acts of domestic terrorism and other atrocities, and was probably obsessed with me…

I could fix him.

Couldn’t I just… talk him out of everything? It would be a… slow process, but it would be better than whatever Arkham had to offer. I had to convince him that stopping everything and going off the grid was the best option. Though I figured it wouldn’t be the one to give up easily. He was like… Light Yagami.

He was the Light to my L.

Things were starting to make more sense now. He was the one I was searching for, but I didn’t see it until now. I flipped open my laptop as Teenagers by MCR echoed throughout my band poster- clad room. Laying down and kicking my feet, I opened my instant messages on SpaceHey. I needed to be cautious in approaching him to talk him down.

“hey i think if you really want your movement to grow you should like maybe not kill people and blow stuff up”

“Why?”

He had a point. What could I possibly tell him so he would listen?

“because i don’t want you to be locked away”

It was true.

“You care what happens to me?”

I spent some time trying to decide if I should be honest with him. Then it hit me. I was so caught up in myself and my feelings that I forgot the most important part. He only knew me as xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx, but I loved him as Bruce Wayne. I couldn’t have him fall in love with Batman or my undercover persona. He needed to know ME, but I could never tell him who I was.

“I just think it would be better for you to go off the grid to stay under gcpd’s radar”

“You don’t know my plan.”

“whatever. i’m sure the police will send you to arkham for what you’ve already done anyways”

“You’re right, those bastards can’t see what I’m trying to accomplish.”

For the first time, the Riddler was the one to leave in the middle of our conversation. And for the first time, I wanted to tell him everything. The truth. But if he knew that Bruce Wayne was Batman, he would never love me. And it didn’t look too good for Emo Lord anymore.

I closed the SpaceHey tab and started watching some CrankThatFrank to calm down until I received a message from Gordon.

“There’s something we missed. Meet me at GCPD”

Sighing, I put on my Batsuit and got on my motorcycle. As I weaved through the cars, all I could think about was my dilemma with the Riddler. I had ruined everything, and I never got the chance to tell him how I felt, as wrong and twisted as it was. Gordon could never know either, but I was forced to play along in the hunt for the Riddler.

Gordon snuck me into the basem*nt of the station where evidence was stored. A rat maze laid on a table, clearly the work of the Riddler.

“I had a whole team check this piece of junk for evidence. Then all of a sudden, another letter appears right on top of it!”, he waved the letter in my face.

To the Batman.

“Have you read it?”, I asked.

Gordon shook his head. “You’re good with riddles”.

I gingerly opened the envelope as if not to rip it. I slowly slid the card out, holding it up so Gordon couldn’t read it.

I only have eyes for you.

The cover read, with a heart filled with googly eyes. Underneath the title, in the Riddler’s handwriting, was:

For the Batman’s eyes only

The back of my neck felt overwhelmingly hot. My hands trembled as I opened the card.

Despised am I by knave and liar. After me, the wise inquire. I rise above all death and fire. What am I?

“Truth,” I blurted without even reading the riddle aloud. “The answer to the riddle.”

Gordon made a move to grab the card to take a look, but I took a step back after noticing another handwritten passage underneath.

I know who you are. I know all of you. Batman, Bruce Wayne, it’s all the same. Despite this knowledge, I still want you. Check your messages,xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx. XOXO.

I had to read it twice to process it all. My heart beat out of my chest; my face felt flushed.

“Well? Do you know his next move? His next target?”, Gordon pressed.

I could barely form words. The Riddler knew who I was, but he didn’t care. He still… loved me.

“H- He wants Gotham… to know the truth about uh, Thomas Wayne”.

Why would I say my dead dad?! He was dead if you didn’t realize, which made me an orphan because my mom was dead too. Being an orphan meant that both of your parents were dead, which mine were. I was an orphan. It was too late now; I had just made my deceased father one of the Riddler’s targets to expose. I didn’t even know of any scandals he could have had when he was alive (he was dead now).

“I have to go,” I started, holding the card to my chest.

“We need that card for evidence”.

“I- I’ll give it back!”

I ran out of the GCPD before Gordon could respond. This card was clearly not an instrument in his plan; it was for me.

Chapter 11: 131.252.251.200

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I stress- played a few rounds of 2048 until my hands were unbearably clammy. I paused the game to do some finger stretches. What was Bruce Wayne getting at, trying to stop me from killing people? He doesn’t want me to get sent to Arkham? What could that possibly mean? And clearly some job for Batman pulled him away before I could get any real answers. It better had been my letter; I didn’t GO OUTSIDE for once all for him not to get it.

For some reason, part of me still didn’t want him to read my letter. I couldn’t bear the thought of him not loving me back. The thought of him not thinking of me. I had to love him for a reason because he represented everything I envied and despised. I wanted to love him because helovedme.

My thoughts began to spiral. Why did I say I knew who he was? All of his aliases? Would that scare him away? He must have thought that I was insane, right?

I almost spat out my week-old Monster energy drink when I got a notification on SpaceHey.

“i got your message. how did you know? are you going to tell anyone?”

“I noticed your activity pattern on SpaceHey. When you leave, the signal is lit. I studied your face. This letter stays between us.”

My eyebrows furrowed. Did he read my message fully, or was he just ignoring the rest?

“you still… want me?”

“For some reason, Bruce, you’re all I can think about. We were made for each other.”

“it feels so wrong… but i feel the same way”

I sighed in relief. There was still so much that I wanted to tell him. How much he reminded me of L and I was his Light, how I wanted to solve puzzles with him, how he should never buy lactose products again-

“But unfortunately my butler alfredo would never allow this”

I froze. He was going to give up that easily? Did he not love me enough to go against his butler’s wishes?

I made a new window and quickly found this “Alfred Pennyworth’s” IP address, bank and medical records, credit cards, home address… and his socials. He was unnervingly popular here on SpaceHey, Reddit, and Facebook. Almost as famous as me. My grip on my mouse tightened. He had notable blogs about parenting “moody” teenagers. Something about kids wearing black all the time and stealing their deceased mother’s eyeliner. After a brief scan, I figured he was one of those overbearing, controlling parents. At least he had someone who looked after him. At least he wasn’t a forgotten orphan like I was, forced to live on my own.

“Don’t worry about Alfred. We can still be together.”

“how?”

“He just needs some convincing.”

The conversation, for now, ended there. I found it harder and harder to go long lengths without speaking to Bruce. I rolled my gamer chair back as I began devising a plan for Mr. Pennyworth. Even his name was pretentious. Typical British “people”. I could send him a threatening letter, but I figured it would take more convincing than that. Maybe kidnapping Bruce, locking him up in my apartment, and holding him for ransom? It would just be me and him… and his muscular arms… the idea intrigued me, but I think I needed to be a bit more forward.

I glanced over a few bins scattered around my apartment. Rats? No. Guardian Dairy Relief Fast Acting Lactase, 360 Caplets, 9000 FCC Maximum Strength, Lactose Intolerance Pills, Lactase Enzyme Supplement (360 CT)? Maybe. A bomb? Perfect.

I decided upon an explosive letter addressed to this Alfred himself, not Bruce. It was a twisted win- win situation: if Alfred picked it up, I could date Bruce; if Bruce picked it up, no one could have him if I couldn’t.

If, somehow, the letter was to survive, I needed to write something inside. I picked up my green glitter pen and wrote the following message:

Dear Alfred Pennyworth,

I am in love with Bruce Wayne and will be dating him, with or without your approval. He loves me. Don’t get in our way.

Sincerely,

The Riddler

Satisfied, I put the card in an envelope and decorated it with some stickers. The letter would be sent tomorrow, but the bomb had to be made first. I giggled, holding the card to my chest. Bruce and I would finally be together.

Chapter 12: Murder Mystery 2 IRL

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A knock at my bedroom door interrupted my Reddit browsing. I growled as I unlocked the door, met with my butler, arms crossed.

“Master Bruce, I received a call from my bank. There have been questionable purchases on my credit card recently. Does this sound familiar to you?”

Although I was a billionaire, the credit card was under his name after the thigh highs incident. Since my purchases were now monitored, I was too afraid to buy anything without his approval. Last time I tried he posted to his Facebook group about what to do when your teen buys a Mitski Album and a copy ofMy Year of Rest and Relaxation.

“Perhaps I should refresh your memory,” he sighed before reading, “Discord Nitro, 13,500 V-bucks, Lemon Demon Spirit Phone vinyl, 25 gifted subs to Jerma985, Carpe Antiperspirant Hand Lotion: A dermatologist-recommended non-irritating smooth lotion that helps stops hand sweat (Great for hyperhidrosis), American Psycho (Uncut Version) (Killer Collector's Edition)-”

“Ok, ok, I’ve heard enough! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” All of these purchases sounded like incel behavior. Someone had to be skilled enough to hack into my bank account. Someone like-

“Not even cases of Pepto Bismol, Lactaid, unofficial Batman pajama pants, Twitch viewer bots, or 10,000 Robux?”

Lactaid? I didn’t know anyone who was lactose intolerant, besides my mother, who could no longer enjoy Lactaid because she was no longer here (she died). I was an orphan, so my father was dead too. He wasn’t lactose intolerant, but he couldn’t enjoy milk (or chocolate, his favorite) anymore because he was murdered. Chocolate milk… why did that feel so familiar?

Of course, the Riddler! I had almost forgotten about his live- streamed emotional breakdown over my spilled chocolate milk carton (oopsies). I couldn’t bring myself to snitch on him. Snitches get stitches, I guess. Though, when my parents snitched on corruption in the city, they got shot. That was how I became an orphan, meaning both my parents were dead.

“That wasn’t me. Probably some incel hacker with a mild following on Twitch or something”.

My butler sighed in frustration and started toward the door, mumbling something about “how his Facebook group would love to hear about this”.

“Alfredo?”

He turned. “Yes, Master Bruce?”

“How should you respond if a guy- I MEAN someone confessed their undying love to you?”

“I suggest an edible arrangement, personally pineapple flowers are my favorite; I am also fond of a cheese inclusion.”

Edibles? I’ve smoked one of those before.

“Wait but the rid-I MEAN THIS SPECIAL SOMEONE cannot have weed.”

He’s lactose intolerant. Unlike me, who had snorted a blunt before. Many times even. Alfredo didn’t notice the USB in my Batmobile. My parents wouldn’t either because they’re dead. I was an orphan. My parents couldn’t inject edibles anymore because they’re dead.

“Master Bruce, edible arrangements are not those types of edibles. Also if you decide to buy one, please use this coupon.”

Oh. I knew that. I was just testing him. I went to the computer to order one, but once again, the child lock was on. I called Alfredo. He opened the computer for me and handed me the coupon. I opened and began searching for the perfect one. Where would I even send it? I went to his twitch and saw he had a p.o box linked. Perfect.

Right then, I heard a knock at the door; I yelled for Alfredo to get it and continued typing in the coupon code. Because he was preoccupied with the door, I decided to try to sneak a few extra minutes of screen time. I got on Roblox and logged on to MM2 (Murder Mystery 2). I had to stop playing because it reminded me of when my parents were murdered. They’re dead now, by the way. They would never experience the epic highs and lows of hit Roblox game Murder Mystery 2 because they’re dead. Which means I was an orphan.

My game was interrupted with Alfredo calling from downstairs, telling me to fetch the mail and the package at the door (I predicted an air fryer). He could never understand the significance of Meep City to me; it was the closest I could be to having parents (mine were dead). It was merely a simulation; however, those brief moments basking in the warmth of parental love satisfied my heart in a way my butler could never have. The artificial glow of the paused game reminded me to respond. Should I go afk, just for a second, and do what was asked of me? Complying felt like a betrayal to my newly adopted parents and all they had sacrificed for me. In the time taken to retrieve the mail, I could miss a lifetime the same way my dead parents missed a lifetime with me. A trembling hand gripped the mouse.

“I’m busy!”, I replied.

“There is a gift at the door!”

A gift? Had the Riddler already purchased something special for me? Was he thinking about me? My stomach fluttered at the thought. I took a final look at my newfound Roblox family before rising out of my gamer chair.

The descent down the main staircase was slow. I theorized all the presents the Riddler could have given me with every step I took. A MCR shirt? Fingerless gloves? A Monster can necklace? He would know me so well, I concluded, whatever it was. He had his flaws, clearly, but I would be his dark knight in shining armor— I vowed to stop him from destroying not only Gotham but also himself.

The silhouette of Alfredo stood in the open doorway as the sun crept into the dark and lonely mansion. I paused at the threshold of the upper landing of the spiral staircase, peering down at my father’s legacy before me. My butler, having heard my footsteps, turned to me and smiled.

“I believe this is from your secret admirer, sir.”

His arm outstretched, waving a large envelope.

I beamed, prepared to race down the stairs. One step forward sent me flying back in a deafening roar. I could only remember a blinding orange flare before my vision blurred.

It must have been five, ten minutes before I regained consciousness, sprawled, rather awkwardly, across the oak-varnished stairs, newly blackened from the heat of the explosion. Forcing my eyelids open, I wiped away the thin layer of ash caked in my eyelashes. Something was pulling tight deep inside my soul, which was thrumming like a drum, reverberating with a single name:Alfredo. Alfredo. Alfredo.

I forced myself to my feet. The leather of the Doc Martens I had since eighth grade had become hideously, horribly scuffed and bruised from the explosion, but I could not consider such trivial things at a moment when my only remaining father figure (because my real father figure was dead) was lying on the ground, his lifeblood spilling across the marble floor. (My shoelaces were still tied though, because Alfredo had told me to double knot them. At least I would not be disappointing him in that respect.) I hesitated on the 67 and 2/3 stair, not sure whether I had the mental or emotional strength to face the inevitable below me. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And yetI must. I’d watched enough television to know that young boys who let their father figures die on their watch carry life-altering, soul-crushing guilt with them for the rest of their lives. I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t handle anything. I was utterly useless without him.

I kept waiting for something, some sign of life. I wasn’t about to go down there and deal with a dead body by myself. Then I saw my father lying on the ground in the alley, struggling through his last breaths. Right then, I vowed I would never let that happen to anyone else. I pushed forward, aching with every step, crawling to my butler,my father.

I didn’t remember his condition when I found him. I didn’t think I even checked. With a trembling hand, I dialed 911. And I waited. In those minutes, I had never felt so hopeless, like a boy being unable to save his own father. A helpless child. The sirens snapped me from my trance.

The responders had asked me questions, but the ringing in my ears never ceased. I could only manage a nod. My throat burned.

The mansion had never felt so empty.

Chapter 13: f*ckING CHEESE

Chapter Text

I briskly walked home from the post office; I had to get back to my computer right away. I would have practiced my parkour but something interesting had come in the mail. Besides the normal letters, fan mail, lactaid, and anti-sweat medicine, I had received what seemed to be an edible arrangement? I might have been planning to blow up the city but I f*cking hated drugs.

But like I said I HAD to get back to my computer. Before I left, Batman was telling me about how someone blew up his butler (that someone being me of course). I told him I was sorry for hospitalizing his second father figure (part 2 the second one). He left me on read for a while and then angrily typed at me. How rude! It was a necessary evil, you sometimes had those and sometimes you didn’t; it was the only way me and him could be together, and I could end corruption in Gotham. I replied but he never answered. This was just like when my parents abandoned me.

While waiting for him to reply I wanted to stream. I decided a P.O box unboxing stream would be best, answering questions, talking to fans, and licking already sealed envelopes. That's what led me here, briskly power walking down the streets of Gotham NOT doing parkour and holding an edible arrangement.

I rushed into my apartment after kicking over my neighbor's trash can and posting it on Twitter. I put down all my mail and took a closer look at the edible arrangement. Bruce was so nice to me, but I didn't feel bad about exploding his father figure. We HAD to be together. He made me feel warm, sweaty even (sweater than normal). But when I took a closer look, I noticed f*ckING CHEESE. I squealed and shrieked as I collapsed on the floor. I crawled to my lactaid and raged. Life was so cruel. I rushed to my room, got on discord and hid in my closet. My squeaks of terror were like the hinges of a door. I only came out of the closet when I heard my notifications for SpaceHey go off.

It was xXDark_Knight_Emo_Lord_69Xx.

“hey would you like to meet up some place (irl)”

He wanted to meet up? In real life? This was like a dream come true, but I was so nervous to see him. It seemed like he already recovered from the bomb incident, maybe I could be his third father figure? Oh god what would I wear? My weezer shirt? No, on that day I would wear my white button down.

I replied, “Yeah sure whatever, it’s not like that's really cool or anything I guess I could cancel my stream ig” I had to play hard to get, at least that's what r/relationshipadvice said. It was posted by some guy called Mylifeasabutler0987658902378890. He seemed really cool. I hoped he was doing well.

“i need to talk to you it’s really important”

“If you’re apologizing about the cheese, it’s whatever. I thought you knew I was lactose intolerant, but I guess we weren’t as close as I had hoped.”

“there’s lactose in cheese?”

“Are you fr fr rn?”

“i had no idea”

This was the guy that kept foiling my plans? He was stupid, not in like a himbo way, just dumb and emo.

“Speaking of cheese, I suggest we meet at this diner that Guy Fieri went to. You could say I’m a local now.”

I had seen it in an episode of my favorite show,Diners, Dive- Ins, and Dives. I hated capitalism, but damn was it entertaining. I was particularly fond of their pumpkin pie.

“sure just send me the address we could meet tomorrow night”

Tomorrow night? From what I heard from Reddit; dates usually occurred at night. Was this a date? It had to be, right? At least I hoped so. Was I supposed to bring flowers? I didn’t have any, only rats. Did he like rats??

He left before I could ask, probably for some Vengeance business. In his absence, I came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, a date. He had mentioned that it was important. Really important. WAIT. Could that mean… a proposal? So soon? I squealed in excitement, like a rat finding cheese. Tolerance for cheese was the only difference between me and the rats. I had so much work to do: finding an outfit, applying anti- perspirant lotion for the ring picture, planning our wedding… Neither of us had someone to walk us down the aisle (orphan moment), and I had already blown up Bruce’s second father figure. I quickly created a pinterest board with ideas for our wedding. I was going to stream it!!

Should I take a shower? Was this the occasion people took showers for? I hadn't taken one in a while. I thought about what Holden Caulfield would do and decided to shower. God he was just like me. I went to the bathroom and checked to see what I had. I had no shampoo, but that's okay dish soap would also do. That's when it hit me: bubble bath. If only I had a tub, but it's okay since the orphanage didn't have running water just like how I didn't have parents. So, I used the next best thing– the sink. I turned the water on; it had been so long since I saw water. I just drank Pepto Bismol, Monster Energy, coffee, and G Fuel. Once I was done, I decided to wear my outfit for tomorrow’s special day to bed. I didn’t want Bruce to suspect I knew his plan, so I went for a more casual look: a white button down, jeans, and a few raincoats. The rats decided to take my bed for tonight, like they always did, so I slept on my Batman (not hate, love) blanket. I imagined my blanket was his buff arms swaddling me. I drifted off to sleep, excited for tomorrow’s date.

Chapter 14: RA RA RA RA RA RO MA RO MA MA GA GA OOH LA LA

Chapter Text

I lived in the Wayne Manor alone. With Alfredo. Even though Alfredo lived here, I was alone. Joe Chili murdered my parents. I was an orphan. My name was Bruce Wayne. I was written to be around 30 years old. They made me 20 in this fan fiction. I believed in wearing eyeliner, free robux, and the MCR reunion. In the morning, if I didn’t look emo enough, I would pack on heavy black eyeliner while updating my SpaceHey status:i’m not okay (i promise) well, if you wanted honesty that’s all you had to say i never want to let you down or you have to go, it’s better off this way for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriends took remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor i’m not okay i’m not okay i’m not okay you wear me out. There was an idea of a Bruce Wayne, some kind of abstraction, but there was no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I could hide my cold gaze, and you could shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you could even sense our lifestyles were probably comparable, I simply was not there.

I trembled with excitement for my date with the Riddler. Was it a date? I wasn’t sure. I guess I would know once we got the paycheck. One singular paycheck? For the two of us? US? Together or separate? TOGETHER?? Were we together…? Did I need to ask Alfredo if I could borrow his credit card?? Wait. The thigh highs incident. I doubted he would let himself trust me with credit card privileges ever again. This month’s Hot Topic eyeliner was already running dull—my lack of a credit card was more dire of a situation than I imagined. Wasn’t my Hot Topic account under Alfredo’s information?
Without his credit card, how else was I supposed to score Hot Topic points and a limited edition Seven Deadly Sins shirt for bogo (that means buy one get one free, the 12-year-old on Omegle serving as my new therapist told me). Soon enough, I, Vengeance, would devise a grand scheme to take back both my credit card privileges and my Hot Topic account. For now, I needed to look as different from the ordinary population as possible and transform into my hero, CrankthatFrank. I referred to the epically edited and heavily contrasted photo of Frank and heated up my straightener.

I needed to talk to the Riddler. I needed him to look me in the eyes, so I could remind him this wasn't him. Yeah, he might have been scorned and evil, but I knew this kind, soft, and even more sweaty side of him. I could change his mind; I could fix him. This wasn't him. If I could talk to him tonight, I bet he would listen, and we could run away to the Batcave together. I just knew this wasn't him; I needed to save him. He didn't need me as Vengeance, he needed me as Bruce. And I was going to be there for him. Unlike his parents who were not there for him, just like mine because they were dead.

I finished straightening my hair. I decided I needed some practice before the meeting. I stared at the mysterious grunge y2k vintage scene kid aesthetic man in front of me and imagined I was confronting the Riddler. I didn’t even know his real name. In a cosplay tiktoker fashion, I rehearsed my lines. Was it possible to include some Junko poses? Would it be appropriate? I told my reflection that the best thing for him, for us, was to abandon the No More Lies Movement, to stop killing people. He’d done enough damage already; he was surely the most wanted man in Gotham. The whole GCPD was after him, and it was only a matter of time until he was discovered. If we had a chance, he couldn't throw it away like this. I was the only one who could save him.

And somehow, he saved me.

The last few years of my life had been nothing but despair and vengeance. I had lost all relationships because the only relationship I sought was the one with my parents, who had died. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I met him. In the weeks chatting with him on SpaceHey, I remembered how it felt like to be loved and heard. It scared me to think about how I would have ended up if I had never met him.

And to think that he fell in love with me without even knowing who I actually was. I had been to enough banquets and galas to know that people were only interested in me because I was a Wayne. Because I had money. And the media swooned over the mysterious Vengeance and suspected who was underneath the mask. But the Riddler loved me forme.

Sure, he nearly killed my butler, but that was a lack of judgment. He was clearly sick, but I wanted to be the one to help him. While I had the comforts of Alfred and the lofty Wayne Manor as an orphan, the Riddler had nothing. I couldn’t fathom or even pretend to know how that felt. He grew up rightfully fueled by his anger at the world that had failed him. His movement was a worthy cause; he was going to accomplish what politicians and vigilantes alike had not been able to do: end corruption in Gotham.

The difference between me and him was that I knew that there was always another way. His methods have brought only more pain and destruction that he couldn’t see. He wanted Gotham to feel how he had felt for all those years alone. Worst of all, he was going to destroy our relationship, whatever it was. That was how I was going to approach this confrontation. Our relationship was all that mattered.

While Batman was Gotham’s hero, Bruce would be the Riddler’s hero.

I then grabbed my studded belt, slapped the top of the door frame, walked out the door, and began my arduous journey to the diner.

Chapter 15: Et Tu, Brucé?

Chapter Text

While I waited, I nibbled on sugar packets and scrolled on Reddit. I was SO excited to see him; I just couldn't believe this was actually happening. I even took a bath for this occasion; I really think it paid off since this time when I walked in, the waitress did not gag when she came to take my order (I guess that was my effect on women). The bath was actually nice. I felt like one of the ducks in the Dawn dish soap commercials.

I couldn’t stop thinking about getting to see his BIG BUFF ARMS irl (in real life)! I wonder if he would hold me? He would have to because we're gonna be engaged soon. I checked Mylifeasabutler0987658902378890’s post under r/relationshipadvice to see if he had any tips on proposals, but he hasn't posted in a while. I hope he was okay; I just know he would be very excited for me and approve of me and Brucie’s blossoming relationship. I even made a nickname for him! I wondered what mine would be, but I haven’t told him my name yet. Ed…? Edd…? Eddie…? Yes, I liked that a lot. If he was going to marry me, he deserved to know my name; I planned on telling him the second he arrived.

I told the waitress that I didn’t want to order before Brucie arrived, something I learned from r/relationshipadvice. I twiddled my thumbs until I saw a towering man whose eyes were concealed by dark, artificially straight hair. My heart leaped; I could hardly contain my excitement. He was even more handsome in person. Ooh la la!!! My heavens!!

In his hands a bag, it was brown paper. It wasn't the most traditional way to present the ring, but boy was I excited. I pretended to not suspect the contents of the bag; I didn’t want to spoil the surprise! I’ve never met any of my oomfs (one of my followers) irl (in real life) before. What was I going to say???? My face flushed red— I couldn’t even muster any words in the presence of such a handsome man.

He spoke first. “Hi... I have something for you. To make up for the edible arrangement.”

I contained a squeal (I didn’t want to leave a bad first impression; Brucie didn’t need to know that I had adopted the behaviors of my rat friends). I carefully peeled the brown paper bag— revealing a white cloth, a shirt. Inspecting the design, the shirt read “Real Eyes Realize Real Lies”. He knew me so well!

“T- thank you. This is just what I needed,” I managed to say.There was so much I wanted to say. I took off my layers of raincoats and put on the shirt on top of my white button down. Brucie watched me intently, hiding a smile. He then swiftly (stan taylor) brushed his bangs the tiniest bit back.

“I wished I got something for you,” I confessed, embarrassed. “I- I don’t have much to offer. But now that your butler is out of the picture, we can finally be together. I can make it up to you now.”

Brucie’s face fell. “About that. There’s something I need to tell you. Something important.”

This was it. The moment I had been waiting for! I already had a tweet in the drafts and my bio ready on all my socials to read “Taken 🔒❤️”. Oh! I had almost forgotten! I needed to hear Brucie say “Eddie, will you marry me?”, but he didn’t know my name yet.

“I think there is something you should know first, Brucie. My name is Edward, but you can call me Eddie. Or Ed. Or Edd” I was shivering in my timbers; I couldn't wait to hear him say my name.

“Eddie, this isn't you.”

Oh. Surely this was an odd way to begin a proposal.

“Your followers, they love you so, to them you’re a hero. You started this movement ‘cause baby, this town let you down. If only this town could know what you suffered through, but it brought me to you. They don’t know the real you. All I want is for our relationship to be okay, but you hurt my butler.”

Oopsies. I thought he would have gotten over that by now.

“I- I love Alfredo. He’s the only family I have, and I just want him to be okay. And you’ve hurt a lot of people already. You need to stop, for me.”

So, this wasn’t a proposal. Rats! Had I taken a shower for nothing?

“You want me to just abandon my life’s work? Just because you asked nicely? You know me better than that, Brucie.”

He sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But just think about it. We could leave the city together where the police will never find you. Hurting more people will just make you a bigger target for the GCPD.”

He grabbed my undoubtedly not sweaty hands, I had used a whole bottle of Carpe Antiperspirant Hand Lotion, A dermatologist- recommended, non- irritating, smooth lotion that helps stops hand sweat, Great for hyperhidrosis hands, practically begging me to stop killing people.

I shuddered with feelings. I had those often; I felt them very much.

“My life's work… What would I tell the rats??? I can never stop; it courses through my veins. It is in my blood. You might be Vengeance, but I am vengeful. YOU CAN'T STOP ME NOW. Not when I'm this close. There will be no more lies.”

I shook my fist in pure feeling. I loved him, but this behavior was so toxic. He couldn’t stop me now. This was all I ever was.

I then signaled for the waitress to come over (I don't know how to drive). I needed more sugar packets to satiate my cravings.

“Fine. I can’t stop you now, but our relationship will forever be in danger as long as the police is looking for you. Excuse me.” He got up from his chair, carrying his backpack, headed to the bathroom.

It felt like our relationship was in ruin. Had I loved my mission more than him? I obviously was choosing No More Lies over Brucie, but the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. How much good was I actually doing? Sure, some corrupt bastards were gone, but they would just be replaced with another. It was Gotham after all. The only way to eradicate this disease festering in this city was to destroy it all (I had remembered some bible stories from my time as a choir boy). Well, I had something in mind. Then Brucie and I could leave Gotham together, but not until my work was finished.

Brucie stepped out of the bathroom, covered in black armor, his face concealed by a mask. The Batman was even handsomer in person! I wanted to caw out to him (a mating call even).

“I love a man in uniform…”

“Acab,” he replied.

God, he was attractive. The suit highlighted how beefy his arms really were. God, they were juicy. Like the juice at Fresh Market. I loved juice. I was so happy I never had a triplet that would drink the juice before I could. This didn't happen to me because I was an orphan.

Suddenly, I felt a draft on my back. I spun around on the spinny dinner chair. I dropped the sugar packet in utter shock.

I shrieked. “NOT THAT UNIFORM!”

Standing in the door, approaching fast, was the GCPD. F word. How could they have found me? How would they know? Unless…

“Et Tu, Brucé?”

“I'm sorry Eddie. I told you this would happen.”

How… HOW COULD HE? I squealed not only in anger but also in sadness. My Brucie, My SpaceHey Kitten. How could he betray me like this? Could he not see I was doing this for Gotham? For us?

The GCPD grabbed me by my arms, I wiggled as they handcuffed me (if only it was Bruce) and dragged me out of the diner. Away from Bruce, my followers, my sugar packets, and my mission. The last thing I saw as they pulled me into that cop car was Batman's saddened eyes (featuring running eyeliner) and the waitress pouring coffee.

I shouted back at Bruce. “YOU TRAITOR! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE! HOW COULD YOU?”

This wouldn’t stop me. As soon as we started driving, I pulled out my TI-Nspire™ CX CAS graphing calculator and let twitter know what just happened.

Chapter 16: Alfredo, I'm in Love with a Criminal

Chapter Text

I watched in awe as Eddie was taken away from me. This was just like when my parents died (I was an orphan, that's why I didn't have parents (they were dead (because I was an orphan) (they were murdered)))). And he thought I was the one who turned him in. Betrayed him. I could never forget the way he looked at me as the cops dragged him away, all sweaty and heartbroken.

I sat in that lonely diner in my Batman uniform. I didn't feel like doing my usual vigilante hunts tonight. I poked a slice of pumpkin pie with my fork. Eddie had ordered it while I was in the bathroom; it was his favorite. I never tried pumpkin pie before because Alfredo didn't believe in Halloween or pumpkins. My parents couldn't celebrate Halloween because they were dead.

Alfredo... I needed to visit him. He would know what to do, if he was conscious. I changed out of my uniform and started my way to the hospital. Should I stop and get him a gift? A card? Quite possibly a balloon? As I was thinking, I quickly walked by a bakery. Of course, that was it. I would get him a cake. I decided to get him this:

The cake decorator was horrified as I gave her my message, but she understood and was going to get paid either way. I left the bakery and found my way to the room Alfredo was staying in.

"Alfredo? I brought a cake for you."

He didn't acknowledge me. He seemed to be invested in whatever was on the tv. I almost didn't recognize him; he was wrapped in bandages.

"Oh no she didn't," he exclaimed.

"Alfredo?"

He took his TLC very seriously.

"I apologize, Master Bruce, the girls were fighting."

He finally acknowledged me. My parents couldn't acknowledge me because they were dead (they were not alive), meaning I was an orphan (my parents weren't alive (which means they were dead (which means I could not interact with them in any way)).

"I'm sorry, Alfredo. This is all my fault."

"Sir, you have no control over the drama between the ladies featured in hit tv drama, the Real Housewives of Gotham."

"Alfredo, I'm the reason you were hurt."

"Mr. Wayne, if you think any of this is your fault-"

"I'm the reason the Riddler sent the bomb to you. He wanted you out of the picture because I told him."

"Told him what?"

"That you would never approve of our... relationship."

He paused. "You're dating... that criminal?"

"I love him, Alfredo. If only you saw him as I see him. I can fix him. But now he's in prison and thinks I turned him in."

He shook his head in disbelief. He was clearly disappointed in me. My parents were never disappointed in me. They couldn't be disappointed in me now because they were dead.

"Sir, I have learned quite a few things about love and drama from this tv show. I've heard plenty of times that it is not your job to fix someone."

Not my job?Of course it was my job to fix him. I was like sexier Bob the Builder but emo and edgy.

"Well, what should I do?"

"I suggest talking it out will be helpful."

I had never been to Arkham before. I only heard about the horrors that lie inside– the inmates, the guards, the tests, the depravity of morals. Maybe I could explain everything to Eddie? How this was all a misunderstanding? Would he even believe me? I didn't know what I would do if he didn't. How could I possibly go on if I had ruined any chance of a relationship with him? I had pictured us in a quiet apartment outside of Gotham, where there was no corruption, no record high murders per capita rate, or any fighting. If this confrontation (part 2: the second one) went well, we could leave this decaying city behind us. Just like how my parents left me behind when they died (I was an orphan).

I guess it was time to peep the horror.

Chapter 17: Macaroni Hate Speech

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At least they had rats in prison. It made me think of that one song in Barbie as the island princess, where the rat poisoned all the animals to frame Barbie. God, I loved Barbie. The Diamond Castle was my favorite one. I always requested it for movie night here in Arkham. Tbh (to be honest), this prison was better than my apartment, except I didn't have my streaming equipment, Pepto Bismol, or my Batman ((hate) love) blanket. I still found a way to reach my followers; the kitchen had a smart fridge, and I was able to log into my twitter.

My life changed once I went to prison; they required weekly showers. I have never showered more in my life. The showers were fancy; they even had these bars often referred to as "bars of soap". They didn't taste good, but were very filling nonetheless. One good thing did come from the showers because they were so fancy; they reminded me of the hit song Fancy by Iggy Azalea featuring Charli XCX. As I sang in the shower, not only was I screamed at but also recruited for the prison choir!

The prison choir was GREAT! I was clearly the best one there; my years in the orphanage church choir were clearly paying off. If you didn't know, I was in an orphanage because my parents abandoned me. Because of my excellence, I quickly rose through the choir ranks. Soon enough, I was in charge! With my newfound power, I decided to put on a SHOW. Annie was the one I picked; she was just like me fr fr. I put my blood, sweat (lots of sweat), and tears into that show. I saw myself in Annie. She was also an orphan.

When I wasn't practicing for the show, I was either strutting down the hall with Brittney Spears' "Work Bitch" playing in my head (they didn't allow my iPod in) or at the arts and crafts center. I have made so much macaroni art; I can finally enjoy the wonders of macaroni without having to worry about the horrors of cheese. Sadly though, my thoughts returned to Brucie. Everything I did reminded me of him. Sometimes it was anger: I made macaroni hate speech towards him, and sometimes it was sadness. There were many times when I wanted to get on the smart fridge, log into SpaceHey and message him. But I couldn't. I had to forget him. He betrayed me; I couldn't love him anymore. But it was pain, agony even.

Despite all of this pain, I had a GREAT next-door neighbor. We always made macaroni art together; he reminded me of this one rat I used to own who I think was half hyena. His name was the Joker! I told him we would fit perfectly together because I was the Riddler! He liked that. He was a fan of Batman just like me; I guess he didn't see my Twitter bio because it clearly said that we were dating. He was always asking about his weakness and where his house was. He was also a GREAT comedian, but even his hilarious jokes couldn't heal my broken soul. I still loved Batman. What a pitiful soul I was. But I was Julius Caesar, and he was Brutus from the hit play Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare, a historic play and tragedy first performed in 1599. I have never felt more hurt; I was even more hurt than when I first realized I was an orphan. I was more hurt by Brucie than any of the corruption in Gotham. This was the ultimate lie. How could he do this to me? What did I do for him to treat me like this?

[Twitter for LG Smart Refrigerator]

Chapter 18: Prelude in D Minor "Industrialization"

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The Industrial Revolution and its consequences had been a disaster for the human race. They had greatly increased the life-expectancy of those of us who lived in "advanced" countries, but they had destabilized society, had made life unfulfilling, had subjected human beings to indignities, had led to widespread psychological suffering (in the Third World to physical suffering as well) and had inflicted severe damage on the natural world. The continued development of technology would worsen the situation. It would certainly subject human beings to greater indignities and inflict greater damage on the natural world, it would probably lead to greater social disruption and psychological suffering, and it may lead to increased physical suffering even in "advanced" countries.

I thought about this while on the train; I was going to Arkham to visit my boo, the Riddler. I could never visit my parents since they were dead. I was an orphan. I hope Eddie was doing okay. I worried endlessly for him. I checked his SpaceHey and twitter every hour. The sadness I felt knowing he probably hated me was unbearable.

While on the train, I decided to listen to some music. Night Visions by the Imagination Dragons was my choice. Radioactive was my favorite– the lyrics were just like me. I related to Demons as well– I had a beast inside and inner demons that no one could possibly understand (I didn't have a father figure). The devil shivers when I lose my temper. I glanced over, and I saw myself in the reflection of the window. It was emo; my cold gaze gave away all the darkness and angst inside. Who was I? Vengeance? The Batman? Bruce Wayne? Or just a simple boy with a couple million dollars and no parents who lived in a mansion and got everything he wanted? God, my life was so hard; I was an orphan.

The train ride to Arkham was mostly uneventful except for my epic tunes and some middle schoolers snickering at my outfit. I knew the studded belt was pretty epic. So the entire ride, I gazed out the windows longing for the Riddler, who would probably want nothing to do with me now. He was so pathetic, aquatic, and an incel. I had also decided to get him a cake:

Were we tired of the cakes yet? It was emo, just like me. I asked the lady to add G Fuel to the frosting instead of lactose. In case it did have milk, I could just stop over by the Arby's outside the prison.

Finally, the train let off; I tried to slap the door frame on the way out, and instead the door closed on my hand. Ouchies. I f*cking hated that door; it was so evil and cruel like this one physics teacher I had once who used to work at the orphanage and was once a flapper. This door didn't know I was neurodivergent and a minor like three years ago.

I quickly changed into the Batsuit. I then took a short, escorted ride to the doors of the prison. I told the guards that I was here on behalf of the GCPD; I needed to further question the Riddler. The head of Arkham, Dr. Jonathan Crane, met me outside. I told him his insides were ugly just like his shoes. He looked like he specialized in cruel and unusual punishment and made corn husk dolls in his free time. He was orphan material, or at least I hoped he was.

He welcomed me to Arkham Asylum and showed me inside. It looked like some place Zak Bagans would go. He was my hero; he wore all black and was just like me fr. The inmates looked miserable; they screamed a lot. At least they probably weren't orphans, like me. They probably had no idea what it was like to have credit card privileges taken away from them. I scanned the rows of tiny, dilapidated cells in search of Eddie, to no avail.

"When can I see the Riddler?"

My tour guide smirked. From his eyes, I could tell that he probably got lost in a corn maze once. Or created the Zara website. God this guy smelled like he didn't have a father figure.

"Ah yes, my favorite subject. We will see him shortly."

"Subject?"

"All Arkham Asylum patients are subjected to... experimental treatment. For research."

Was this even legal? This had to have violated some civil liberties. I didn't know if I even wanted to see him anymore. If I could stomach it. I wouldn't be able to control myself.

I was led to a visitor center entirely encased by glass. Eddie sat, chained to a desk in the center. Was I to watch him from behind the glass, like an animal? Why wouldn't they let me in?

He stared at me, without a word.

"Let me explain. Please."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Please-"

"YOU ABSOLUTE TRAITOR! YOU IMBECILE! HOW COULD YOU? I TOOK A SHOWER FOR YOU! I HADN'T LEFT MY HOUSE IN MONTHS! I THOUGHT... I thought you were going to propose. I thought we had something."

"Propose? My brother in Christ, it was an intervention. I was trying to prevent this. I can't stand being away from you. My heart... I love you."

"Then why... did you turn me in?"

"I didn't turn you in, I swear. I have no idea how they found us. Just like William Shakespeare said, 'I would never turn you in. I love you; I will help you figure this out'. I'm submitting my amicus curiae brief right now."

"You're a friend of the court?!?!?!?!"

"Only for you. ACAB"

I approached the glass that separated us, carefully raising my hand to meet the cold, glistening surface. Eddie started to lift his hand, but his movements were strained from his hands shackled to the table. He backed out of his chair, and with a horrible SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEK the metal table grinded against the tile floor with each step the prisoner took. Eddie awkwardly placed his hand against mine and gazed into my eyes.

"I'll keep you updated; I promise. Surely the court will have mercy on a misunderstood orphan. Just hang in there, please. I'll visit you as often as I can."

"I'll try. Thank you."

I started toward the exit.

"I love you," Eddie whispered.

"I love you too."

On the way to the train station, I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Just... waiting it out, trying to legally appeal Edward Nashton's case. But something boiled inside of me, as if I knew deep down that no one was going to let this man out of prison. The court would never be merciful on someone who killed the mayor, the commissioner, the district attorney, and possibly countless others. Still, he didn't deserve to be there. He was only doing what he thought was right. He fell victim to the failure of this city and wanted to expel its corruption. How was he any different from me? The people he killed had been abusing the system and would have never been caught. Eddie only hurt guilty people, not civilians. I kept telling myself that. That would be how we would win this case.

But Jonathan Crane. I could still see his cold, dead gaze as he bragged about his unethical experimentation. What was he going to do to Eddie? I must have thought about a hundred horrible torture methods.

Just do the right thing and go home, I repeated.

I looked into the eyes of the middle schooler who had screamed "EMOOOOO!" in my face just moments before and saw Eddie. I could hear his screams as he begged for the nightmares to stop.

Just do the right thing and go home.

Dr. Crane smiled as he watched his new test subject cry in pain (agony even). He laughed at the thought of what he'd do to him tomorrow.

Just do the right thing and go home.

The train pulled into the station, but I would not go in. I thought of Eddie, who would wonder where I was to save him...

Go back.

I ran out of the train station, racing back toward Arkham Asylum.

Chapter 19: Milk Humidifier and Hallucinations

Chapter Text

While some say the president should be more powerful than Congress because of national security concerns which require immediate action, a more powerful legislature would ensure that those responses are in line with the will of the people. F word. This was what I thought about while waiting in my cell. I was told to wait till the doctor would come get me; they told me I had punishment due. This did not align with the 14th Amendment under the due process clause. I was so good at AP (advanced placement) Government and Politics. It was the only class they taught at the orphanage besides physics. I was so good at it despite not paying attention half the time and was either plotting revenge on this corrupt city or playing Papa's Hot Doggeria. Supremacy clause.

Suddenly the door to my cell opened. It squeaked and creaked. I decided to call back, I let out a solid:

"Reeeeeeee."

"SHUT THE f*ck UP!"

It was Crane.

Doctor Crane shouted at me some more as he entered the cell. I swore to God his shoes were so ugly. I might have worn crocs, but he wore HeyDudes. After I was done giving these corrupt b words a big knuckle sandwich (killing politicians in cruel and unusual ways), I would target anyone who didn't wear their crocs in sports mode next. He walked up to me, and his ugly ass shoes were STILL ugly. The closer he got the more disgusted I became. God he was such Zara website vibes. He walked over to this weirdly shaped machine and plugged it into the wall. He then walked over to a mini fridge in the corner of the room and grabbed...MILK???? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My sworn enemy, C12H22O11.

"I'm sure you're familiar with this," he started, gesturing to the machine.

I shook my head. He didn't care to elaborate.

"Let's see what happens when I put 2% milk into this humidifier."

"2 PERCENT?! THAT'S LIKE 1 PERCENT PLUS 1!!!," I shrieked. This was so cruel and unusual. I thought about Brucie. He should have broken me out when he had the chance. Why did he leave me here?

"Don't worry, Edward. There's nothing to fear but fear itself!" he exclaimed, opening a briefcase, revealing a canister and a gas mask.

"You listen to Oingo Boingo too??" God of course he did. I wonder what his opinion on gay people was.

He put the gas mask on. "Of course I do!"

OH GOD! No wonder he wanted to make everyone's lives miserable.

"You're just as corrupt as the DMV! You don't even look like an actual crane." I spat back.

"What?... the DMV? Out of all the corruption that takes place within this city, you think the DMV is the worst? Isn't this like, your thing? Is this a riddle?"

"OH EM GEE! Don't even get me started, you fraudulent birdman. The amount of red tape?!?!?! The DMV is a special type of HELL. It is like a mini corporate OHIO distributed by the government (if you are not American just know Ohio sucks). Nothing brings together even the staunchest of enemies like a shared hatred of the DMV. You think you torture people? You think this is the worst moment of people's lives? NO! It's waiting five hours just to get a registration that then gets moved to the next day because the line took so long. This is why that furry sh*t Zootopia won that Oscar– not the hot fox or the Shakira feature– it was the most accurate portrayal of the DMV in cinematic history. That dumb sloth, yeah I wanna beat his ass..."

"HOLY sh*t YOU'RE SO f*ckING ANNOYING" he interrupted me, I was a boy, interrupted.

Suddenly the room filled with milky fumes tinged with lactose. The doctor stepped out and closed the door. He quickly reopened it and shouted,

"Oopsies, I forgot this!"

He chucked the open canister into the room. Because I wasn't dyslexic, I could read the label on the canister. It read:fear toxin.Thank God I wasn't scared of anything.

The room started to spin, and my eyes felt heavy. I heard the sounds of... no... it couldn't be... an ice cream truck? The one from my childhood stood before me. The line grew shorter and shorter as orphans excitedly received their treats. It was eventually my turn. I peered into the dark window of the truck, prepared to tell the ice cream man that I was lactose intolerant and couldn't order anything– a statement that marked my miserable childhood. Tormented by this demon, lactose. My only flaw. I was greeted by... TED NIVISON?! His milkman uniform burned my eyes. I tried to wake myself from this wretched nightmare, but it was all too real.

"LEAVE ME ALONE! I CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING!" I cried, a meager attempt to escape this hellscape (Ohio).

"I know," Ted smiled, "I made somethingspecialfor you."

He placed a cup on the counter and poured a glass of...

"Got milk?"

I shrieked and tried to get away, but everywhere I turned, the milkman stared back at me with his carton and cup of poison.

"Recent studies suggest that including 24 ounces of low fat or fat free milk a day in a reduced calorie diet may help you burn more fat and lose more weight than cutting calories alone."

"I HATE DIET CULTURE!"

I collapsed to my knees, hiding my face in my hands and holding back a sob. I just wanted this nightmare to be over. I didn't want to hear about the American advertising campaign encouraging the consumption of milk and dairy products created by the advertising agency Goodby Silverstein & Partners for the California Milk Processor Board in 1993 (later licensed for use by milk processors and dairy farmers). It was just as corrupt as Gotham, promoting the horrors of capitalism and diet culture– Michelle Obama as their leader. How could Brucie just leave me here?

Then I saw it. Salvation. An oasis. A Rainforest Cafe. I pathetically crawled into the themed restaurant. I couldn't wait to see Iggy the Iguana. I was becoming so dehydrated (I sweat a lot). I hoped they had a refreshing beverage awaiting me. I craved a G fuel, quite possibly a Monster too. I started salivating more than normal just at the thought of it. I quickened my pitiful crawl.

I lifted my head to meet the eyes of a waitress. My greasy, sweaty hair clung to my red face. I imagined the first sip of a Monster; my insides electrocuted.

"Do you have a refreshment? G Fuel, Monster, or perhaps a co*ke? I'd settle for a Pepsi." Little did she know, I would not, in fact, settle for a Pepsi.

"Of course. Let me get that for you," she smiled.

THANK THE MODERATORS OF MY LIFE. I was jumping with joy. I couldn't contain my excitement for my refreshing drink. I was like Jesus. I waited 40 nights (3 minutes) without food or water, surrounded by devils. I heard her quickly approaching, beverage in hand. It was a... MONSTER. WHEN THE DEVIL SAYS NO THE LORD SAYS YES. I couldn't wait for my beverage, my blood of Christ, my Communion wine. She then smiled at me and placed the can on the monster before my eyes, within my grasp.

"Will that be all?" she asked with a grin.

I didn't reply. I was too busy seizing the can, the urge to quench my thirst overtook me. I brought the can up to my lips and instantly began to chug. My heart stopped when the familiar taste of carbonated, artificial flavoring and pure caffeine was lacking. In fact, I didn't taste it at all. I took another sip, just to be sure. Still, it was something more plain, more... f*ck.

I reeled and choked on the remnants of the vile dairy in my throat. My trembling hand seized the can and threw it across the room, a pathetic attempt to free myself from the chains of lactose. I instinctively reached into my pocket, expecting to find my Guardian Dairy Relief Fast Acting Lactase, 360 Caplets, 9000 FCC Maximum Strength, Lactose Intolerance Pills, Lactase Enzyme Supplement (360 CT) but to no avail.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?" I cried, gasping for air, the poisonous taste of milk lingering in my mouth.

The waitress, with an uncanny grin, slowly placed her hand at the base of her neck. She stared at me dead in the eye, smirked then all of the sudden the skin on her face morphed as if she was ripping it off. The skin lifted off; her eyes rolled to the back of her head. The scene was grotesque, and very resemblant of the Smokey Bear forest fire prevention PSA released in 1973 with Joanna Cassidy (PLEASE GOOGLE IT). As her hair lifted off her scalp, the lifted skin of her face began to fall. A second skin seemed to be underneath. I soon realized it was only a mask. But who could be under it? I had fallen to the ground in fear, and the fear of who was under the mask caused me to slowly back up. Finally, the mask fell to the ground...

"I snuck milk into Coachella."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" IT WAS TED... TED NIVISON. HE CAME BACK FOR MY WRETCHED SOUL.

I hit the floor.

BOOM.

Chapter 20: HELP WANTED: FOOT LOCKER

Chapter Text

I couldn't leave him. I was running so fast. I knew I had a motorcycle, but my Fitbit told me that I needed to get those steps in. I had to save Eddie before whatever horror awaited him. The gridlock in the American government was too polarizing. It would take years for Eddie's case to be heard. I had to act now. Did Crane even know Eddie was a niche micro internet celebrity?

I was back in my normal clothes: a black studded hot topic belt, converse, a plaid flannel tied around my waist, and even more emo merch. I tied my hair up into a messy bun that complimented my beautiful gray orbs. I quickly took it down because I was emo and needed to show off the monster side bang. But I needed to change back into my suit if I wanted to get in. I stopped at the local Arby’s and changed there, then resumed my sprint, this time including some epic parkour.

I soon found myself at the gates of the asylum; this was just like the beginning of the 2013 hit movie The Great Gatsby, a Baz Luhrmann remake of the 1925 book by the same title featuring Leonardo Dicaprio. I used to think Leonardo Dicaprio and the turtle from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were the same person. Did Leo even know teenage turtles? Did he like it? Probably not, it was over 25 years old.

Nonetheless, I used my epic parkour skills and meticulously entered the prison (they had a back door). I entered and hid myself within the darkness of the halls. I slinked around and around and around and around and eventually went around once more; I soon realized I was walking in circles. This place would trick you up, I swear. Doctor Crane had made the foolish mistake of showing me his lab. I had to distract him first before I went down and rescued Eddie. How would I do it?

I knew what I had to do. I opened my bat utility belt and pulled out Alfredo’s coupon book I had taken off his desk. I had meant to bring it to him in the hospital, but after seeing the Hot Topic coupon, I couldn’t resist. He would be sad, but this would help me rescue Eddie and get the spiked choker I always wanted. I ripped out the Hobby Lobby coupons and parkoured over to the lab. I quickly slipped the coupon under the door and ran behind the corner. I then heard a few footsteps, by the sounds of it they were clearly some fugly ass shoes. It had to be Crane. My suspicion was confirmed when I heard him exclaim,

“SALE!??!?! AT HOBBY LOBBY?!!?!? Golly gee, this is amazing! I can finally get the scented pinecones I've been wanting. It will be perfect for my collection!”

The door suddenly flew open and out skipped Doctor Crane. I should have given him a Foot Locker coupon as well because those shoes needed to be locked the f*ck away. My parents have never been to Foot Locker because they were dead, that's why I was an orphan. Because my parents died (I was still an orphan). Now was my chance to rescue Eddie. But suddenly I heard the footsteps getting closer… and closer. I pressed myself up against the wall, praying that the darkness of the hall would camouflage me. Why would he be going this way? What was I going to do? f*ck. I glanced around, the footsteps were getting closer and closer, that's when I saw it… a lamp. I stood in front of the pole and carefully lifted the lamp shade off and placed it on my head. That's when he turned the corner. I prayed he didn't turn the lamp on. I was worried my bat ears were poking through the top. He walked right by me in his ugly ass shoes and out the hallway door. It was now my time.

I had to act fast. I sprinted to the lab and opened the door, not forgetting to slap it. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Eddie collapse on the floor with a horrified look on his face. This was like when I wasn't able to get the MCR tickets; I was crushed. Just like when my parents died (I was doing parkour). I rushed into his enclosure; milky fumes permeated my nostrils. WHAT HAD HE DONE TO HIM!?!?! I gently lifted him into my arms. He smelled like dried macaroni and hairspray. I rushed out with him in my arms. GOD, I was going to get so many steps in today.

I escaped the asylum, the Riddler still in my arms. What to do now? I couldn't just carry around a fugitive. Where would we go? How do I even wake him up? God I was so lost, just like when Alfredo took me to Hollister that one time; the store was so dark I thought I had entered the backrooms. Instead, an employee found me huddled in the corner and took me to the front and had to call Alfredo over the intercom. This is why I shop on Hot Topic. I had no plan, no idea where to go. So, I went to Arby's. We would fit right in. The only people who go to Arby's either have no self-respect, no other options, or are just insufferable carnivores. It was perfect.

Chapter 21: Trauma Olympics 2022 hosted at Arby's (ft. Meat Mountain)

Chapter Text

heard it in the distance, a sound. It reminded me of the orphanage physics teacher. It called to me like a bird. A blue bird. A blue bird that represents an American communications company based in San Francisco, California. That operates a microblogging and social networking service. That previously operated the Vine short video app and Periscope live streaming service. I GOT A TWITTER NOTIF.

I quickly awoke and grabbed my pocket searching for my phone. It wasn't there. Panic set in. But my anxiety was quickly calmed when I looked up and captured the eyes of Bruce. OH EM GEE. He came back for me! He saved me.

“EDDIE!” he shouted. “I'm so happy you're awake… I was so worried about you.”

He then quickly grabbed me and pulled me close. His big buff arms wrapped around me. Oh God, they were beefy. It felt like heaven on earth. After the devilish nightmare, his presence felt like heaven. He was my Virgil; I was his Dante, and he guided me out of hell. I was so happy I could cry. I never felt something this warm that didn't make me sweat. I felt all fuzzy and not because of mold. I felt as if I found a home. No longer an orphan– I had my family; I had myman. Dear Lord, when I get to heaven, please let me bring my Brucie. I wanted to give him a wet smooch.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” I whispered.

He then screeched. I bet he was partaking in echolocation.

“Umm… I mean… I'm sorry I can't. I drank chocolate milk this morning…I also got the Arby's mozzarella sticks when I was coming to rescue you,” he replied.

“F WORD”

Still being with him was pure bliss. I could compare him to a summer's day, but he was more lovely and more temperate. He nervously got up and lifted me to my feeties.

“So what now?” I pleaded.

“We have to find a place for you to hide. You can't return to your apartment… I was thinking… that you…could possibly stay in the Batcave… with me. You don't have to… It was a stupid idea.”

“YES.”

“Oh fr?” he answered, shocked.

My stomach began to growl. It was like I ate a whale, and it began making noises in my stomach. Batman must have heard it because he asked,

“Hey, before we go to my place, wanna grab some ice cream?”

“Shut the F word up,” I replied swiftly (stan taylor).

“Uhhh… how about we just order something here then?”

I looked up and noticed the glistening Arby's sign above me. That was why it smelled like meat and cigarettes. An all too familiar smell to me… I remember it like it was yesterday… except it wasn't.

I remember the first time I asked where I was found. Unlike the other orphans, I didn’t care to know who my parents were. I only knew that they had abandoned me, and that was all I needed to know. That I didn’t matter.

The orphanage workers gently told me that they found me in the dumpster behind the local Arby’s. They told me like I still mattered to them, that my parents didn’t just throw me away. But I meant nothing at all.

I would spend nights at the orphanage, staring at the dull glow of the Arby’s sign from the dirty, broken window, wondering how my life could have been different. How I could have been like Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, that poor orphan alone in his mansion. If only I had been dropped off at the Wayne Manor. God, I used to hate him. To think that I loved him now. He was the only one to make me feel like I mattered.

“Sure. What are you going to get?” I replied.

“MEAT MOUNTAIN.”

I fwording loved Meat Mountains. The Arby's secret menu was truly a gift. The Meat Mountain was a massive feast piled high with chicken tenders, ham, roast turkey, swiss ch**se, corned beef, angus steak, brisket, cheddar ch**se, roast beef, and topped with bacon. I would get it without ch**se ofc (of course). I could picture it in my head. It looked like this:

I once again salivated. We got our Meat Mountains after having a debate at the cashier. Apparently, you cannot haggle the price at Arby’s. It was heavenly. The moderators of my life were once again gracious. If my life was a Twitch stream, it would have so many gifted subs. The Meat Mountain was almost as beefy as Brucie’s arms. I was engulfing my Meat Mountain with a monstrous bite, chomping and munching away when Batman interrupted me.

“Ahem,” he said, in a very emo way.

Holy moly! That was some rich ass rich bitch boy behavior. He could be the light of my life, fire of my loins, be a good baby, do what I want, but the spawn of nepotism that stirred within him was clear. I wanted to spit in his mouth violently, like a spitting cobra. Instead, I just turned and said,

“What baby boo boo bear Brucie? Do you have any qualms?”

“Well…I actually do.”

“WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT”

I really dragged out that T to show my disbelief, just like my disbelief in religion. I wanted to believe, I truly did, but the corruption of Gotham had no place for religion. There was no God there. God, I belonged at a Phoebe Bridgers concert. But I was in fact shocked… how could he possibly have any qualms with ME? I was so shocked, I looked like this:

had no flaws, except my intolerance to lactose. But he had to love me for who I was. Was it because I showered? I had to let him know the prison forced me to.

“The prison guards made me shower…”

“No Eddie, that's not it.”

“WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT”

How could that not be it? I WAS PERFECT. Was I not a niche enough micro celebrity? Was I not emo enough? Did I not fill the motherly void in his heart? I was crushed. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t tell if it was from this or the Meat Mountain clogging my arteries.

“Eddie, don't worry… It's just that you didn't pay…. Or at least chip in… You know my parents are dead, right.”

What the f*ck.

“DUDE…my only revenue comes from Twitch and my Etsy shop makes absolutely NOTHING. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten your trust fund, buddy. You think you’re the only orphan? I was ABANDONED at this very Arby’s.”

“Well, you exploded my second father figure!”

“I SAID I WAS SORRY… you don't even know what it's like being lactose intolerant.”

“I'M NOT ALLOWED TO USE MY OWN CREDIT CARD!”
“AT LEAST YOU HAVE ONE, LILY ROSE DEPP.”

“IT’S ALFREDO’SUHHHHH…”

“YOU'RE SO PRIVILEGED! I WAS GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“I HAD THE BURDEN OF MY FAMILY'S NAME AND DEATH ON MY BACK MY ENTIRE LIFE! You were What.”

“I FELL DOWN A TRASH CHUTE AND LIVED IN A COMMUNITY OF 29 AND A HALF ORPHANS!”

“YOU GET TO BE CHRONICALLY ONLINE WHILE I ONLY GET AN HOUR PER DAY!”

“YOU ARE THE MILLIONAIRE! I RENT A 550 SQUARE FOOT APARTMENT AND PAY AROUND 800 DOLLARS RENT!”

“YEAH, WELL- WELL I’M GAY!!!”

“YEAH, WELL I’M GAY TOO!”

Why were we even fighting about this? We loved each other. There was no reason for this war, this trauma Olympics even. We were gay AND hom*osexual, meaning we were men who liked men, meaning we should kiss right now fr fr (for real x2). Brucie’s Too Faced lip injection extreme hydrating lip plumper smeared lips seemed so enticing. My boy (not to be confused with the hit Car Seat Headrest song) closed his eyeliner- smudged angel eyes and puckered up, so I opened wide like I did at the makeshift orphanage dentist and gazed at him, waiting for my prince charming to kiss me. Then it happened: the grating of teeth as we forgot to tilt our heads. We were opposites. I was gaping wide like a Cetorhinus maximus, a basking shark, and kept my eyes open, and he was staying completely still, puckered up with his eyes closed. Why would you close your eyes in a kiss? I needed to see his pretty face. It was our first kiss, with the remnants of the Meat Mountain on our tongues. (Author's note: I'm sorry for you all this is FOUL.)

“GET THE f*ck OUT WERE TRYING TO EAT!” screamed a patron.

“THATS SICK!” yelled another.

God we were popular; people kept trying to talk to us. We were kicked out of the Arby’s, but they could not kick the smile from my face.

After that, we caught a train, got laughed at by middle schoolers (who had little idea I was going to blow up their houses), chatted irl (in real life), and fell even harder for each other.

We got off the train and headed to the Wayne Manor. We were picked up in a fancy limo. I had never driven in a limo before, only the city bus. When I got on the city bus, I was treated like a celebrity. People moved out of my way and backed up about six feet. Many clutched their purses and turned the other way. My presence was so powerful that they covered their children's eyes, pinched their noses, and shivered.

For once in my life, I felt like I had a chance. A fresh start. Is this what it felt like to be loved? To be wanted (criminally and romantically)? I was so calm. I felt safe and content. I could drink a five hour energy drink! Just kidding, I hated drugs. Despite this, the cold, villainous urge inside me did not lay dormant. It was not all quiet on the western front (my ventromedial hypothalamus). Corruption. It was everywhere. I experienced it firsthand in prison. I would have to become more chronically online than ever to stop it. I loved Batman. I would stay with him, but he couldn’t stop my plan; I was too far in to stop now. There would be no more lies. God, I needed to tweet that.

Chapter 22: Emos Just Wanna Have Fun

Chapter Text

Okay we pulled up, hopped out at the batcave. I was so excited to show the Riddler my home. We were going to have so much fun together! I started planning our day together: we could hang out in the gaming room, the indoor bowling alley, the indoor (or outdoor) swimming pool, the movie theater, or one of the living rooms. Eddie’s mouth gaped open (he tended to do that a lot) as we stepped out of the limo. It was probably because Alfredo had just mowed our lawn (pre- explosion). He prided himself on that lawn– he was a connoisseur of lawns. There was so much to see!

“We probably can’t tour the whole house in a day, so I can just show you my favorite places.”

Eddie must have been really stunned at that lawn because he didn’t respond. I could tell he was absolutely flabbergasted. It was probably because we didn't have an indoor water park because the house was too small. Alfredo (rip) thought it was important to keep me humble. We walked in and were greeted by Marinara, who was probably here while Alfredo was gone. She was so STUCK UP. She didn't let me play MCR out loud or put my monster side bangs in front of my eye. THIS WAS SO STUPID. I was a grown man; I didn’t need a baby sitterughhhhh.

“Hi Ms. Marinara. Why are you here?”

“Good morrow to you, sir Bruce! I am hither while Alfred is hence. I see thee still art into that emo stuff, aren't thee? I see thee hath brought a friend!”

“Yeah… a friend…nothing more…”

“Maketh sure that gent knoweth all the house rules, and I desire thee knoweth we doth not allow shoes within this manor.”
“OKAY! UGHHH WE KNOWWW!”

“A proper sir doesn't not useth such tone! Now who art thee, sir? Your attire seems… exotic.”

“HI I'M EDDIE!”

“I believe thee mean… Edmund. From what manor doth thee hail?”

“PRISON.”

“Oh…,” she mumbled.

Oh God this was painful to watch. I had to put an end to this. Eddie didn't fit in with Marinara’s ideas of high class society. I didn't want him to embarrass himself.

“Okay, okay, Marinara-”

“Mine name is Marina, and I expect thee to address me as such!”

“Alfredo lets me do it!”

“Well I do not knoweth how that gent alloweth thee doth, but at which hour I am heareth this is what we doth.”

“Okay fine ughhhh… Let’s go Eddie.”

I led him inside, up the spiral staircase, past (several) living rooms, and into my room first.

“It’s kinda small, but I think we can squeeze in.”

“ARE THOSE FANTASY WOLF BED SHEETS?!”

I really wanted Black Parade bed sheets, but Alfredo and I settled on this really epic hyper realistic wolf with an awesome galaxy background. You could say I related to wolves; they liked the night and had inner demons (probably).

“Wait till you see my sick band posters,” I began, pointing to each one, “The Black Parade, Nirvana, XXXTentacion, Pierce the Veil, and Radiohead.”

“YOU LISTEN TO RADIOHEAD TOO?!”

“Yeah, I relate to Creep a lot. What do you listen to?”

“You’ve probably never heard of them… they’re pretty underground. Weezer, Oingo Boingo, Daft Punk, Car Seat Headrest, and Lemon Demon are my favorites.”

Suddenly, Marinara slammed open the door. God, she was such a pain in my bum. I just wanted Alfredo back. He was cool and let me do fun stuff. He was also not canonically hom*ophobic, unlike Marinara.

“Great heavens! Thy friend is such a loser, Master Bruce. Hasn't thee ever bethought of listening to… classical music?”

“MARINARA, GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND STOP JUDGING HIM!”

“I was only stopping in to receiveth thy laundry, sir, then leaveth thee beest, but now I see what a mess thee two has't madeth! Edmund, thee must knoweth, in our house, we do not doth this. I do not knoweth what is allowed at yours.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Eddie replied, lowering his head.

That made me angry. He did nothing wrong! You didn’t want to see me angry; the devil would shiver if I lost my chill. I suddenly felt it happening: my demons reaching the surface and winning the war. It was like I was changing into my true form (a werewolf bat ofc). This was just like the hit Imagine Dragons song “Demons”. Finally my anger built up, and I blurted,

“LEAVE MY BOYFRIEND ALONE! HE MIGHT BE A COMMONER, BUT HE'S TRYING HIS BEST!”

Marinara gasped. “YOUR WHAT NOW? How could thee beest queer? This is not right. I shall talk to Alfred about this.”

“JUST GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND LET US HAVE FUN!”

“Alright, only because I do not wanteth to absorb your queer fumes. Behave in there!”

Finally, she left.

I looked at Eddie. “Sorry, she’s a wench.” I found that word in the Urban Dictionary a few days ago.

Eddie was standing awkwardly in the corner while the whole thing happened, but now we could finally bust it down and get groovy in an emo way. But first we decided to give ourselves makeovers. I pulled out all my makeup and nail polish. Riddler questioned me on my James Charles x Morphe palette. I GOT IT BEFORE HE WAS EXPOSED OKAY. I also only used it for the black, not for the pink or anything noooooooo. I only wanted the black nothing else I swear fr fr. After having to explain to a confused Riddler that James Charles was gay, I moved my Ebay mystery boxes out of the way and clawed my way through the 5- in- 1 shampoo pile (I accidentally ordered in bulk) to get to my gamer chair. Riddler smeared shade “spooky” onto my eyelids. I looked at myself through my epic dual monitors. I was giving Gerard Way vibes, my hero.

Eddie seemed to be cheering up a little, but with my empathic abilities (I was an empath), I could tell that he was still hurt by Marinara’s comments.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Do you want me to give you a makeover?”

“Makeup is so gay though.”

“DUDE YOU’RE LITERALLY GAY.”

“Whatever… I’ll at least let you paint my nails.”

“Yeah fo sho fo sho.”

I wanted to treat Eddie, so I used my green scented markers (Alfred forbade me from buying nail polish). I hope he loved that sweet scent of sour green apple. I loved apples. I was Eve in Eden, and green sour apples were my forbidden fruit– there was no God in this metaphor. Also, the apples were not really forbidden, they just cost $5.99 at Walmart.

Once our makeovers were complete,

It was time to boogie.

Luckily, our karaoke room was available, as Alfredo frequented that room a lot. He couldn’t sing now because he had exploded. My parents couldn’t enjoy the wonders of karaoke because they were dead. Dead people couldn’t sing because they were dead. I was an orphan because my parents died. I sang a solo at my parents’ funeral. They had a funeral because they were dead. Can’t spell funeral without fun. This is what I brought to the funeral when I sang “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman,” the hit song by Britney Spears and also “Something in the Way” by the underrated band Nirvana. In case you didn’t know them (you probably didn’t), Nirvana was an American rock band formed in Aberdeen, Washington, in 1987, founded by lead singer and guitarist Kurt Cobain and bassist Krist Novoselic. The band went through a succession of drummers, most notably Chad Channing, before recruiting Dave Grohl in 1990. I wasn't going to sing it this time. It would only remind me of my dead parents, which made me an orphan. No, this time I was going to sing “Bring me to Life” by Evanescence. f*ck yeah. I plugged in the machine, turned on the disco ball, and grabbed a hairbrush (my microphone). The opening notes began to play. I quickly asked Eddie if he wanted to do the rapping part and he said yes.Let's. f*cking. Go.

“How can you see into my eyes like open doors?

Leading you down into my core

Where I've become so numb

Without a soul

My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there and lead it back home”

I sang like an angel. This song went so f*cking hard. I put my whole soul behind this. I wanted to be Amy Lee so badly. I walked around being all emo and dramatic.

“Wake me up inside (save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up)

Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)

Before I come undone (save me)

Save me from the nothing I've become

Now that I know what I'm without

You can't just leave me”

Eddie stood there, very stiffly and talked the words into the microphone while I dropped to my knees and BELTED. It was like he was chanting the Gregorian chant, returning to his choir boy roots.

“Breathe into me and make me real

Bring (bring) me (me) to life

Wake me up inside (save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up)

Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)

Before I come undone (save me)

Save me from the nothing I've become

Bring me to life

I've been living a lie

There's nothing inside

Bring me to life

Frozen (frozen) inside without your touch

Without your love, darling

Only (only) you are the life among the dead

All of this time, I can't believe I couldn't see

Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me

I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems

Got to open my eyes to everything

Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul

Don't let me die here

(There must be something more) bring me to life

Wake me up inside (save me)

Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up)

Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up)

Before I come undone (save me)

Save me from the nothing I've become

Bring me to life

I've been living a lie

There's nothing inside

Bring me to life…”

My parents couldn’t be brought to life because they were dead. Because they died when I was kid. I’m an orphan. We finished the song and adrenaline rushed through my body. This was an emo dream. I was sweating so much my bangs clung to my forehead. It was now Eddie's turn. I asked what he was gonna sing, and he said it was a surprise. He nervously wiped his sweaty hands onto his shirt, leaving a wet, sticky handprint. I could tell he wanted to try his best. He opened his mouth and said,

“Supremacy clause.”

Then he opened his mouth again and began to sing…

“Cold and windy

Dark and stormy

Let me float your way

Please don't ignore me

What you girls really need's a soft, fuzzy man

(An ambient man)

A trick of the light to love you tonight

You don't understand, there's nothing quite like a soft, fuzzy man

Can't you see me?

Why can't you see me?

I'm all around, all cold and dreamy

What you girls really need's a soft, fuzzy man

(A wisp of smoke man)

To waft over you and cloud up your view

So show me your hands and wave them right through a soft, fuzzy man

Although I have no arms to hold you in a human passion burns within me

I need to feel like I exist

So please baby please baby step into the mist

Don't be nervous

No, don't be nervous

I'm not like other guys who have a surface

What you girls really need's a soft, fuzzy man

(An atmospheric man)

A shimmering puff of indistinct love

What's better than the vague embrace of a soft, fuzzy man?

Who seeps through your thoughts

Who makes you see spots

Who blows through the air

Who plays with your hair

I know it sounds crazy, but once you go hazy, you'll understand

I'm your soft, fuzzy man…”

He started nervous and trembling, but I watched him grow; I watched him change. His confidence burst through once he hit the chorus. He turned into a beacon of light, shining through the night. It brought tears to my eyes; he was so talented. Everything was beautiful. He was, his voice, his passion all brought to life by the song he sang. I was bawling, eyeliner running (not literally). It was perfect. I felt like I was in the hit movie The Sister Act, brought to God by the power of song. I was changed. I couldn't contain my emo sobs. I haven't cried this much since my parents died. They were dead in case you didn’t know. Through my choking cries, Eddie shouted,

“I’m going to the bathroom to get ready for bed!”

I was so overwhelmed by the divine gift we call karaoke that I forgot to tell him about the sleeping arrangements. I didn’t know how I would break the news…

Chapter 23: Reddit National Anthem

Chapter Text

Yipee! I felt bad about leaving Brucie like that. He was so worried about me, and I could tell he was just trying to make me feel better. I was having a lot of fun, but I had a much more important thing at hand: my plans to destroy Gotham. Though Brucie might have saved me from that asylum and believed that I would become a better person, he couldn’t fix me. He couldn’t fix my burning hatred for this awful, corrupt city. As much as it pained me to betray him, he would understand eventually. I could fix HIM. Make him see.

I could feel them…the memories…the memories torturing me. Even in this perfect palace, I could never belong. Hatred followed me wherever I went. I had demons. To them, I would always be that poor orphan boy, who needed to be saved , who needed to be fixed. Even to Brucie, I would always be a charity case. Did he only love me because he wanted to fix me, like his father’s Renewal? I was broiled down to the labels society has assigned me, like how society broils thin cuts of meat: typically cuts that are less than 1.5 inches (4 cm) thick, including rib eye, tenderloin, T-bone steak, ground meat patties, meat kabobs, lamb chops, halved boneless chicken, or turkey breasts. I was the lamb to the slaughter. I was pathetic in the eyes of the corrupt society. Society? SocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySocietySociety! What was society? A group of individuals involved in persistent social interaction, or a large social group sharing the same spatial or social territory, typically subject to the same political authority and dominant cultural expectations? Pathetic. Society was the thing that ostracized me, told me it cared about me, then left me to rot. Society, my adversary, was the eyes of Thomas Wayne I had looked into when I was a boy, who told me of Renewal and that I would be saved. No one came to save me. I was like Mitski: there was nobody. If you didn’t know the song, it went “Nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody”. Even here, in this very house, I was disrespected. Damn Marinara. That rich upper class snob. I would show her. I would show all of them.

The pain and emotion rang up inside me. It was coursing through my veins; I was typically blood type A positive, but right now I was positive I had to destroy this wretched city. I turned to the mirror and sang…

“- Opening

Who are we?? REDDIT NATION!! What do we want?? NO MORE TIKTOK AND INSTAGRAM!! When do we want it?? NOW!

- Chorus

Reddit nation yeah we are Together we can go very far Take down TikTok Take down Instagram Take down everything we don’t give a damn That’s because Reddit nation will rise up Yeah we never will give up

We the Reddit army We hoard the enemy like a skarmy (clash royale sound effect) We can’t be taken down Yeah you can’t make us frown When TikTok sees our army I’m sure their pants will brown!”

God I should sing that for my followers. I swear that would be the next subgoal fr. Besides Twitch, I should let my followers know that the final stage of our plan was near. I would be God in the story of Noah’s Ark, and my followers would be Noah. The sinfulness and corruption would be cleansed from the city, and Gotham could start anew.

I titled the stream “SOAP EATING STREAM!!!!” and hit the live button. My loyal fans immediately flooded in with gifted subs and donations. It was like how I was going to flood Gotham (besides the bombs). I glanced at the hand soap on the counter but ultimately selected the bar soap from the shower (bars always had a satisfying crunch). It was a light purple, quite possibly lavender. I hoped for a hint of lemon– those were especially tart. Since my time in prison, I have taken a liking to soap. A delicacy it was. Such a random idea to put snacks in the bathroom, but they were so amazing. At first, I wasn't a fan of the hardness and heaviness of it, but the filling nature and creaminess of it was amazing. I have never eaten something that formed suds in my mouth— it was pure genius. The chat was on emote only because I had so many loyal fans. Nonetheless, I began laying out the plan for the eventual destruction of Gotham. We would start anew (not renewal though like actually a fresh start).

I walked out of the bathroom. This was it. I couldn't let Brucie suspect anything, so I would spend the night with him and plot secretly. I headed back to his bedroom, wondering what he was doing (probably being emo). Once I opened the door, he looked at me, clearly wanting to tell me something.

I couldn't understand what he was saying. It was all a blur. As I gazed into his face, I saw nothing but hope for a change, a change in me, a change in this corrupt hell of a city. Brucie might have taken on the people of Gotham’s burdens because he thought he could fix the city, fix broken people like me, but he didn’t understand. No number of criminals arrested would correct the lawlessness of the city. They would be back in the streets in a matter of time with the help of the corrupt justice system. The corruption ran was ingrained into the city, like a stain that couldn’t be removed, and deep down Brucie must have known that. I loved him so much, but at this moment, as I looked into his dark orbs, I couldn't bring myself to speak or even look at him because soon it would all be over. I would end this city's corruption– along with our relationship– no matter what. Brucie couldn’t stop me even if he tried. There would be no more lies.

Chapter 24: Parkour Dreams and Tropes

Chapter Text

"Eddie?"

"Eddie, are you listening?"

I waved my hand in front of my face.

"Sorry... I was just thinking about... bombs," he answered, posing like this:

"It's okay... I just have something important to tell you... I understand if you would want to leave after I tell you this. This could potentially ruin our relationship forever, but I want to be completely honest with you."

Eddie didn't look so well since coming back from the bathroom. His face was paler and sweatier than usual. Maybe there was a trace of lactose from the Meat Mountain? I couldn't imagine the excruciating pain he must be feeling.

"This information I just received may be upsetting to hear. People have been talking about this on Twitter-"

His eyes snapped open. "You... You have Twitter?"

"I only got it recently. Anyways, some are very... enthusiastic about this topic, but others aren't. I'm sorry that it has to be this way. I would never purposefully try to hurt you, but I am obligated to do the right thing."

"W- What's going on?" he asked with a slight tremble in his voice.

"I'm so sorry. There's... only one bed."

"THANK GOD," he sighed in relief. "WAIT NO-"

"Oh... um... you're okay with it?"

"I meant... it's okay. I don't mind," he corrected, taking off his clear frame glasses and setting them on the nightstand, he left a greasy fingerprint on the lens (trace evidence). I couldn't remember if I ever saw him without them. They framed his face so nicely, but even then, he looked so...nice. The way his (albeit greasy) hair fell in front of his face, the way his eyes squinted when he smiled; it was enough to make my emo heart leap. I could see the good in Eddie. He was broken like me, but he was good. I wanted him to see himself as I saw him. I saw him like this:

He sat down on the bed beside me. "Remember the day you friended me on SpaceHey?"

I laughed. "Of course I do. I bet you had no idea that I was Batman. Or Bruce Wayne."

He shook his head. "You weren'tthatgood of an undercover spy, Dark Knight. It was kind of obvious!"

"What gave it away?"

Eddie looked toward the window. "The bat symbol. Whenever it lit up the sky, you would leave. Amongst other things."

"Right."

He turned to me. "If you could leave the titles of Batman and Bruce Wayne behind, would you have joined?"

The room grew quiet. I tried to think of an answer, but my train of thought was interrupted by a knocking at the door.

I practically leapt out of bed as the door opened.

"Lights off at nine, sir," Marinara shouted. "There shalt beest nay electronics 'r talking!"

"Okayuhhhh," I grumbled.

Marinara looked me up and down, then glanced over to Eddie frozen on the bed behind me.

"And there shalt beest no queer activity, knave!" she scolded before closing the door and turning off the lights.

"Sorry about her. What were we talking about?"

"Oh... it was nothing," Eddie answered, laying back down as I climbed back into bed.

Distant sirens were heard as we tried to fall asleep. You could never escape the criminal activity in Gotham. Even living in the suburbs, I had to worry about crime just like everyone else in the city.

Eventually the sirens stopped, and my eyes grew heavy. I soon felt the coldness of a metal railing. I was holding my body up with my arms, my hips resting on the bar. No... could it be... the cast ball, an intermediate parkour vault? I kicked my legs back, getting my hips up as high as possible and used my arms to pull myself through, over the railing. I had almost forgotten the thrill of epic parkour. Exhilarated, I jumped from obstacle to obstacle, enthusiastically shouting "PARKOUR!" after every jump. Parkour... why had it been so long since I last parkoured? The college recreation space began to fade. I found myself on a sidewalk in the streets of Gotham. In front of me, a couple walked, holding hands with their son. The mother wore... pearls. My mother's pearls. This was the night my parents died. I desperately ran after them as I heard my younger self say, "Watch me do parkour!" and disappear into an alley.

I watched in horror as my younger self climbed the garbage bin and jumped onto a stack of crates. My parents just stood there, pretending to be impressed. A shadowy figure emerged from the fog on the other side of the alley. My father grabbed my arm and pulled me off the crates. I tried to shout at them, telling them to run, but to no avail. Soon enough, my mother's bloodied pearls littered the concrete, and my father would lie with her shortly after. I gazed into my younger self's eyes and remembered the crippling helplessness I had felt. I had lost my parents again, and I failed to save them again.

I woke up in a sweat and saw Eddie sound asleep beside me. I regularly had nightmares about my parents dying because I was an orphan, and it was a particularly scarring experience. My parents were dead in both my dreams and reality. My breathing was still fast, so I reached for my phone to calm myself down. I opened Twitter, which was completely new to me but still peaked my interest nonetheless. I figured Batman should have his own Twitter, so he could fight bad guys both in real life and online (get into Twitter beef). I clicked on the trending tab to check the latest news. My stomach dropped when I saw the Riddler #1 on trending. I thought he had gone quiet after being sent to Arkham. When could he have possibly...

Oh god.

He couldn't have. Could he?

Eddie planned on destroying Gotham.

And I let him do it.

Chapter 25: AWKWARDDD

Chapter Text

Ring.

Ring.

RINGGGGG.

Oh! That must have been my alarm clock! But it sounded more like POLICE CARS? This was just like the scene from Bratz Genie magic. I leaped out of the soft puddle of sweat underneath me, my drenched Ninjago jammies sticking to my supple skin. Brucie was the Cole to my Lloyd. I felt like a well-hydrated lizard in my enclosure waiting for my co*ckroach feast. The co*ckroach feast image sent me back to my orphan days when I would army crawl across the dirt floor and scoop up co*ckroaches with my tongue and swallow them even.

I sluggishly reached for my clear Warby Parker glasses. I saw Beyblade-like movement in my peripheral. I turned to see my Brucie spinning his Secretlab TITAN Evo Series 2022 gaming chair. WEEEEEEEEE!!!! We must have been gaming soon. He slowly turned in the chair towards me. He was like a globe. The chair spun so freaking slow. It also kept squeaking. The sounds of the screeching chair were the only noise in the room as he slowly turned towards me. AWKWARDDDDDD. I stood there, still sweaty, waiting for him to fully face me.

His expression remained the same the entire rotation. His face was stern, and by looking at his eyes, I could tell he was hurt. I wondered if Marinara died, but no, that would be a celebration, a landmark in LGBTQ+ history even. He might have ran out of eyeliner? His gaze bore into my eyes. Gosh darn, he was gonna give me a burr hole (Burr holes are small holes that a neurosurgeon makes in the skull. Burr holes are used to help relieve pressure on the brain when fluid, such as blood, builds up and starts to compress brain tissue). We were both about to speak when his chair finally turned all the way towards me, suddenly spinning again interrupting me and Brucie with its piercing squeals. The screeches emitted from the chair transported me back to honors physics class in the orphanage, where my teacher (a part-time teacher and full-time flapper) often responded to our questions with angry bird calls. Once again, the AWKWARDDDD silence and the squeaks of the spinning chair filled the room.

My Brucie finally anchored his gaming chair with his Demonias, planting them firmly on the ground. An AWKWARDDD silence permeated the room. He slowly leaned in, obviously trying to give me a besito. I started to pucker my wet lips and closed my eyes when he whispered, “This time I’m actually turning you in fr fr.” My salamander eyes instinctively popped wide open. “You need to go to time out,” that traitor continued. A familiar hom*ophobic Old English voice coming from the doorway chimed in with, “I kneweth it! Yond fiend is nothing but ado. That gent is queer and criminal. Locketh that gent up!”

I couldn’t believe my Bruice became the Judas to my Jesus, betraying me not once, but twice (not to be confused with hit k-pop girl group Twice). I was in love with Jud-as, Jud-as!!! And he didn’t even give me besito!!! First, he said he was putting me in time out. Then he sided with a hom*ophobe?? I wanted to get all up in their faces and sing Born This Way. I was born this gay. I was born to cleanse Gotham of its political corruption. I was born to play the lead role in Annie.

“GIRLLLL WHATTTT!!??!!,” I exclaimed.

“What are we? What am I to you? How could you betray me like this?” he weakly replied.

“NO, YOU ARE BETRAYING ME!! I DON'T DESERVE TO BE IN TIME OUT!!”

“Eddie this is not time out. This is prison… actual jail… I just can’t trust you.”

“WHAT? WHY? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?”

“A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a

base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,

hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a

lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whor*son,

glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;

one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a

bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but

the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,

and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I

will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest

the least syllable of thy addition.”

We both stood there. Speechless. What the actual f*ck. What had happened to us? We were so happy. Why did it have to change? Why couldn’t he understand this had to be done? It was what adults called a RESPONSIBILITY.

“You sound just like her,” he started, gesturing towards the door. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Bruce scoffed. “I don’t even know you anymore, Edward. You were good. You were good when I broke you out of Arkham. I- I broke you out of Arkham…”

“You thought I was good. I never asked for you to break me out.”

“I gave you a fresh start! We could have had it all, together! But you… you were selfish. You couldn’t get enough of it, could you? Killing people? You sick bastard, that must be the only reason for your movement.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Of course, the rich privileged man would deny my efforts to end corruption in Gotham. “You probably never loved me in the first place,” I shouted back, “You just needed me distracted so I wouldn’t target the real vermin of the city— you and your fwording Wayne Enterprises.”

“FBI, OPEN UP!”

EEEP! I had to skedaddle. I was about to race for the door, but a red dot glowed on my Ninjago- themed pajama shirt. Then another. Then another. F WORD F WORD F WORD F WORD F WORD. For the first time, I realized that there was no way out. My life was just one cruel riddle I could not solve. This was like the lost colony of Roanoke, except it was my life.

The front door being torn down was heard from Bruce’s room, and agents swarmed the manor. I heard a crash above me. Suddenly a rope unfurled down, hanging only a few feet away from me. MY ESCAPE! WHEN THE DEVIL SAID NOOOO GOD SAID YESSSSSSSSSSS! He was real– I knew He was here with me, God. A vision, a feeling, came through my body and soul. I believed it to be true. I had been given my special grace. He chose to save a wretch like me. I reached out to grab the rope and tried to hoist myself up on it, but I had little upper body strength at best. I was a few inches off the floor, but I knew God was with me. I was the server, and he was the moderator. I tried to climb the rope but moved only half an inch. Suddenly, I heard a voice from up above me. All I saw before the crash was an FBI agent descending the rope, landing right on top of me.

This was not poggers. I once again snapped back into the reality of a godless city. Lying on the ground, I looked up at Bruce, frozen in fear. I could only grin. Prince of Gotham: the Riddler’s right- hand man. The Wayne Empire would finally collapse.

“You’re under arrest.”

The FBI agent pointed his weapon at me. Before I could think of a potential way to escape, several agents burst into the room, surrounding us.

I glanced again to see Bruce’s horrified expression.

Chapter 26: You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning.

Chapter Text

Maybe Eddie knew I would find out. Maybe hewantedme to, just so he could have me arrested too. He didn’t want to kill me; he just wanted to destroy the Wayne family name. I should have seen throughhislies. Did he ever love me at all? He must have. He loved me even before he knew who I was. Guess I would never know now.

Did the agents really think I had anything to do with this? I wanted to remind them that I was one of the Riddler’s targets. Well, Iwas. But I couldn’t say anything to them; I would just tell them I needed my lawyer. That’s what Alfredo would say. Our family and company had many esteemed lawyers. My parents couldn’t use our lawyers anymore because they were dead.

As the agents were handcuffing me, the clamors of Marinara echoed through the hallway. She was carried in by two exasperated FBI agents.

“Doth thee gents not knoweth chivalry? For shame!” she cried, then turned to me. “Alack! Are thou arresting Master Bruce? That gent is not a villain!”

“Just send for one of my lawyers, Marinara.”

“A lawyer? But he hath done nothing wrong!”

Marinara flailed between the arms of the FBI agents, shouting, “I hither duties in this manor, you scoundrels! Thither art rules in this household that must beest hath followed; respect is demanded of thee gents!”

The FBI agents let go of the hom*ophobe and pulled Edward to his feet, who had been laying on the floor the whole time.

They all immediately started wiping their now drenched and sticky hands onto their vests in disgust, leaving a clean trail of salty liquid. It was as if a snail climbed across their bodies, covering them in a weird slimy substance.

“DUDE WHY ARE YOU SO SWEATY??”

“GIRL you’re the sweatiest man I’ve ever touched.”

“IT’S A MEDICAL CONDITION. ACAB, YOU B WORDS!”

“I NEED A LAWYER!” I said louder than everyone else. “Can we please just pick this up tomorrow or something? I told my 12-year-old friend from Omegle that I would hop on Fortnite like 10 minutes ago.” I wanted nothing to do with this. Ihadnothing to do with this.

I took a step toward my gaming room, then I hit the floor with a BOOM. I was tranquilized.

I woke up in a cold, metal chair, and there was a light. It was bright. It shined. I knew what it must have meant. This was it. It all would come to an end. I would finally see them…my parents. They were dead if you didn't know. Now I was going to be dead. Like my parents, who died when I was young. I'm an orphan because they died.

The bright light shone into my eyes; I knew the end was here. As poet Emily Dickinson once said, “That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.” I always read those words. But now, I finally understood what they meant. This was it. And as Gandhi once said, “In a gentle way you can shake the world.” I hope I did that, even though I punched a few people, not gently. And as Salvador Dali once said, “Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it.” There had always been a burden on me to live up to the family name since my parents were dead. And as Steve Jobs once said, “If you live each day as it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” Well, this was certainly my last day. I don’t think I did anything right; I had ruined my relationship with Edward and parkour. And as George Eliot once said, “Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them”. I hope my work as Vengeance had an impact, that people would remember me for the work I did. I hoped that Eddie would not forget me. I wanted him to look back on our time and finally change for the better. He could do it. I knew he could. Even after betraying me, I still saw the goodness inside his heart, I hoped he could unleash it.

“BRO SNAP OUT OF IT!”

“Huh?” I whimpered.

Suddenly, the light moved aside, and my eyes focused, and I found myself in a dull room with a mirror.

“What is wrong with you?” the man asked.

“I thought I died… like my parents. They were shot, and because of that they died. That's why I'm an orphan, because my parents are dead.”

“Oh…okay.”

“They died while I was doing parkour.”

“Alright, kid…”

“Did you read about it? My dead parents were pretty famous. I said were because they are dead.”

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “I know your parents are dead. We know ever-”

“Were you going to vote for my dad? You can't now because he is dead.”

“OKAY I GET IT! THEY’RE DEAD! DEAD AS HELL!”

“No need to yell at me! Alfredo, he's like my fake dad because my real dad is dead since I'm an orphan. But he says I'm an empath, and that I deserve respect. So I ask not to be spoken to in that tone.”

I heard him mumble under his breath that he wondered why my parents would ever leave their fortune to my sorry ass. I was sorry. I was sorry I couldn't save them (they were dead).

“Listen, kid. This is an interrogation. I am an officer of the FBI-”

“I WANT A LAWYER PRESENT!” I shouted back.

He shook his head and explained my rights. He promised I would get a lawyer then began the interrogation.

“What was Edward Nashton doing in the Wayne Manor?”

f*ck. I hoped he wouldn’t ask that.

“I want a lawyer.”

“The media won’t have a word of this, you know. You can tell me the truth.”

“MAKE THAT TWO.”

He sighed, getting from his chair, and pulling out his phone. I referred him to the best of the Wayne Enterprise lawyers.

Soon enough, I had my lawyers. And the agent was STILL asking me questions??

“Why did you-”

“I WILL NOT ANSWER WITHOUT A LAWYER PRESENT!”

“Sir… you have two already. They are right behind you.”

“ARE YOU DENYING ME MY RIGHTS!?!?!?! This requires AT LEAST three more lawyers.”

He once again, sadly, called. Then again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again until the room was crowded with lawyers. I knew my rights. For every question the agent asked, I ordered for another lawyer. Alfredo would be so proud of me. I knew that I was Batman– I could handle this on my own. But I was here as Bruce, so I had to act as Alfredo had raised me.

“Will you FINALLY answer the questions now?” the agent asked, exasperated.

“I would like to reserve my right to a lawyer.”

“YOU HAVE 40, MY GOD. THAT’S IT, YOU'RE GOING TO JAIL! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR BULLsh*t. HOW ABOUT YOU USE YOUR LAWYERS TO PREPARE FOR THE TRIAL, DUMBASS.”

“ACAB?”

Why would he do that :(. That was so mean of him, possibly corrupt? This was why I would say ACAB. I was now not only a hero but a criminal! I thought back to every movie I've ever seen, in the crime ones they always got calls. I knew what I was going to do.

Chapter 27: Les Mis But Better (Not Fr*nch)

Chapter Text

There was no God. Only Corruption. Here in this desecrate city, the law protected criminals and punished the innocent, and the wealthy could forget about the struggles of the many. If you had enough money, you could have the whole government in your pocket. This was just like hit historical event the Fr*nch Revolution, except better because we at least weren’t Fr*nch.

The guards forcefully pushed me into the interrogation room. I headed to the chair and accepted my fate. I was like Jean Valjean from Victor Hugo’s hit Fr*nch historical novelLes Miserables, but instead of stealing a loaf of bread I blew things up in a vine boom sound effect kind of way. I hated the Fr*nch. Would they give me a life sentence with no parole? I figured I would receive capital punishment for my crimes. Was I ready to die? Maybe I was. I knew my followers would continue my mission, with or without me. They knew my plan. But the Batman… he could pose a problem. I couldn’t even call him Bruce anymore– he was a stranger to me. As long as I was alive, he would do everything to stop me.

“Stop, we have to put a towel down.” theFEMALEagent said. I told you I have talked to plenty of females before. I was not afraid of them at all. You could still be a sigma male even if you were gay.

“What? Is this some form of corruption torture?!?! You corrupted fools, you are the criminals. I know the truth. I know who you are. I HAVE USED YOUR CREDIT CARD INFORMATION!”

“THAT WAS YOU, f*ckER!?!?! You spent 500 goddamn dollars' worth of f*cking body pillows. ON MY f*ckING CARD! My wife was so f*cking MAD!” The man cursed a lot. He looked like a man only worse because he was old.

“WAHHAHAHAHHA! That was me, you slithering corrupt heathen.”

“Just sit in the goddamn chair bastard. We put the f*cking towel down because you f*cking sweat everywhere. You're a walking goddamn biohazard.”

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of corruption today. Did you not get a donut?”

“I just got done f*cking interrogating your bitch boyfriend over there. I want you to know you guys are both pains in my ass. Also, my wife f*cking divorced me.”

TheFEMALEcontinued the interrogation after calming the man down and asked if I wanted a lawyer present since there were like 40 lawyers in the other room. I told them I would represent myself– lawyers were corrupt. They were shysters and swindlers. The agents were confused why I would do that, but they shut me up when I went on my rant about corruption. The male one was so annoying; he was always cursing and had bad vibes.

“Why are your vibes so bad, corrupt man?”

“You two are the most annoying, dimwitted f*ckballs I've ever interrogated.”

Oh yeah… I forgot they interviewed Bruce. I had completely forgotten about Bruce. I didn't even think about him anymore. He was a corrupt millionaire, and his buff arms didn't intrude my thoughts. It wasn’t like I kept wondering if he was okay, like I said, I hated his strong buff arms. I didn't want to be held. I was completely over him and moved on. It was actually all a part of my plan, believe it or not. Yeah, I planned for that hot emo bastard to break up with me. I never liked him or his cute emo smile. I didn't want him at all. I didn't really deep down hope he was okay and that we could be together and be held by his buff arms. Like I said, I forgot all about him.

The female sighed. “What were you doing in the Wayne Manor? What does Bruce Wayne have to do with all of this?”

“Well…well… I- I didn’t think of it at the time, but… I- I wanted...” My voice began to break as tears welled up in my eyes. I had been so angry at the world that I wanted to take it out on Bruce.

“Y- you see, it wasn’t actually planned, but…” I held back a sob, “I didn’t mean for this to happen!” I exclaimed, bursting into tears. I remembered how much I loved him. I didn’t want Bruce to get in trouble.

“OH MY GOD SHUT THE f*ck UP. THIS IS THE LAST STRAW. JUST SPIT IT OUT ALREADY!”

“BRUCE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!” I shouted between sobs. I cried so hard I could no longer speak. My sobs were so loud that the agents couldn’t speak loudly enough for me to hear them. My tears were salty and full of shame.

I felt the agents pick me up by my arms and drag me outside the room. My cries permeated the hallways. My hands were tied, and I was thrown into an armored truck.

“We’re taking you to Arkham,” the female said.

“You corrupt bastards! I hadn’t told you anything! I can’t go back there please please please please please please please please-”

The doors shut, and I was left in a truck full of armed guards.

“Will food be provided or can we stop at an Arby’s? If not that’s okay, but could I at least get the aux? Have you guys ever heard of Will Wood?”

The guards began to grumble under the breaths.

“There’s no aux here,” A brave guard spoke up.

“NO AUX? WHAT KIND OF TRUCK IS THIS? Fine, I guess I’llhaveto sing.”

“WAIT NO-” they all shouted in unison.

“Don't worry, I relate to this one a lot.” After a brief vocal warmup, I took a breath and sang a song. It went like this:

“f*ck

I was an existential criminal, so innocently cynical

Ignorant as f*ck but a proud individual

Originally meant to live a God-damned miracle

Might've been metaphysical, but I think it was medical

Testing my hypothesis

Never finding a theory

Emulating animals and mental aboriginals

A miserable f*ck but a loud Tao mystical

An enemy of ritual traditionally integral

To Biblical originals, but literally pitiful

Too impatient for outpatient

Paging Dr. Leary

Did you lose yourself? It's always in the last place that you'd check

I might find myself by retracing my steps, but

I don’t remember, well, I forgot myself

I don’t remember, I don’t remember 2012

I don’t remember how I forgot myself

I don’t remember, I don’t remember 2012

I don’t remember 2012, I don’t remember

Wow, the whole year's a blur

I think I bought into the comedy and brought a lot of oddity

An odyssey I thought to be consider a commodity

And not until anomaly abolished my monotony

Did I applaud autonomy and modify a lot of me

I’ll escape this reality, be the next Houdini

Glory be Satori but its hallucinatory

And it’s sure to be a story I can tell in purgatory

I said, once I’ve lost it can there be a Mahaprajnaparamita?

Did you lose yourself? Well, it’s always in the last place you’d check

I might find myself by retracing my steps

Wow! I don't remember how I forgot myself

I don't remember, I don't remember 2012

I don't remember how I forgot myself

I don't remember, I don't remember 2012

I heard the world would turn to hell

Compared to that, I'm doing well

I don't remember how I forgot myself

I don't remember, I don't remember 2012

I don't remember how I forgot myself

I don't remember, I don't remember 2012

I don't remember 2012, I don't remember 2012.”

I must have sang so well because when we finally made it to Arkham, the guards all cheered. I seemed to have that effect on people. I for one did not feel like cheering because IhatedArkham. Besides the musicals and soaps, it was a torturous, godless place. It was just another example of the corruption in Gotham; the mentally ill were disregarded, the guards took bribes, and the lead psychiatrist who ran the place was more insane than any of the patients.

They showed me to my cell; it was the same one as last time. And that silly neighbor was still there! I tried to greet him, but he was too busy laughing for some reason. Once I settled in, I laid down on my bed. He started to laugh again. During my first visit I thought he was a hyena. I must have been absolutely hilarious. Anyways, I thought that maybe things weren’t so bad after all. I could almost smell the craft glue and uncooked macaroni. I took a breath in through my nose to really imagine the scent of that probably years expired pasta when I smelled the most vile stench of all:

Those f*cking HeyDudes. God they were so so so so awful. Dr. Crane turned the corner and smiled once he saw me.

“Glad to see you again, Edward.”

I shuddered as the memories of the milk incident came flooding back.

“Let’s try a bonding exercise with your neighbor, shall we?”

Chapter 28: New Phone. Who Dis?

Chapter Text

“I would like to phone a friend.”

The agent sighed. “Alright.”

“Double whammy.”

He handed me an ancient piece of technology. It reminded me of an iPhone, but it didn’t look anything like the one I had. There was a button on the bottom for some reason? AND IT ONLY HAD ONE CAMERA?? What kind of fossil was this? George Washington must have used the same type of phone the night he crossed the Delaware. I struggled unlocking the phone when the agent snatched it away from me, opened it, and handed it back.

I hesitated before typing in Alfredo’s phone number. Well… whatwashis phone number? I would always just click his contact information whenever I needed to call him. Did I even know the first number? Of course I didn’t. Who would?

“Are you having… trouble there, Mr. Wayne?” the male agent smirked.

“Hold on, I got it.”

Did Alfredo ever teach me his number as a child, before I had a phone? Impossible. I have had a phone since birth. Was it ever on the refrigerator, just in case? I couldn’t remember. But why could I picture a card with his phone number on it?

“Dude, do you not even know your guardian’s phone number?”

“I SAID HOLD ON A SECOND, BUDDY.”

Where had I seen it? I thought of my daily routine: skincare routine, watching MCR music videos, skateboarding, playing Fortnite, working out, then… patrolling Gotham! Alfredo would pack my lunches and leave his business card in there for some reason. I’d see it every time I opened my official Batman merchandise lunchbox.

I quickly typed in his phone number and held my breath as the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey Alfredo, I’m in a bit of trouble here-”

“This is not Alfredo. Do not call this number again.”

“But… this is his phone number.”

“Sir, I am going to call the police if you call this number again. I am not interested in your insurance scams. HOW DARE YOU SCAM THE ELDERLY, THE MOST VULNERABLE! YOU HEATHENS DISGUST ME!”

“Jokes on you, I'm already with the police. They are right here with me. I'm going to prison.”

“GOODBYE.”

The 40 lawyers who had been making small talk fell silent.

f*ck. That last number was 2, not a 3. I retyped the number again before the agents could insist I already got my phone call.

“Alfred Pennyworth speaking.”

“ALFREDO! I’m stuck at the FBI interrogation room for some reason. I have a bunch of lawyers here, and they won’t let me bring any more. Can you come over to be my lawyer? Can you bring a couple more with you?”

I heard a crash from the other side of the line.

“Alfredo? Is everything alright? Are you still at the hospital?”

“Sorry, sir. I’ve been cleared to leave today, but… there’s something I should tell you. ALSO THE FBI?”

“That’s not important now, Alfredo. What happened?”

“I fear I’ve watched too many seasons of the Real Housewives of Gotham during holiday that… I’ve gone blind.”

“...Can lawyers be blind?”

“Well, yes sir-”

“Can you come be my lawyer?”

“Sir… you don't need a lawyer. You have yourself. All you need can be found within you. Sometimes, lawyers are the friends we made along the way.”

“I don't know what you mean…”

“The wall does not falter to the wind, Bruce. You have all you need.”

“The power was in me all along?”

“Yes, it's in your bank account. Goodbye.”

He was right; my bail was only $500,000. That was at least four burritos. That wasn't much at all. I had that amount of money in Kohl’s cash. I remembered Alfredo bragging about his not legal tender, which could be redeemed for cash or used to purchase gift cards in- store, at a kiosk, or on Kohl’s.com. He had more Kohl’s cash than I had money in my bank account (including savings). Would they let me pay in Kohl’s cash? If not, it was just fine– I could pay my bail 17 times over. I walked over and slammed my credit card on the agent's desk.

“I would like to check out now.”

“...Are you trying to bribe an officer of the law?”

“I have the 15-digit Kohl's Cash number and four-digit PIN, and the value of my Kohl's Cash will be deducted from my bail total.”

“You can remember your Kohl’s Cash number, but not your parents’?”

“I don't have parents. They are dead.”

At that point, he grabbed my credit card and shoved me out of the office. I was FREEEE! This called for an Arby's trip, but it wouldn't be the same without him. His sweaty face… his greasy hair…oh how I missed it all. He was so interesting! He was built like a parenthesis from leaning over in his gaming chair too long, but I loved him even though he was lactose intolerant. I couldn't wait to see him, even though he betrayed me. Twice. I think while I was there, they mentioned he was on his way to Arkham again. Ew. That place sucked. It was half the size of my house and didn’t even have a pool. Not to mention that Crane guy with those f*cking disgusting shoes. How would I get there though? I noticed a nice shiny motorcycle parked in the lot. This was Gotham, ranked number one in crime (the only thing we were first in). They shouldn't just leave it out here. I was pondering whether I should borrow it when the person came out. I asked to buy it off of them but remembered the agent took my card. The person just stood there, speechless. I just gave him the 250,000 dollars I had on me.

“I know it's probably not enough, but this is all I have. I know it’s not a lot.”

“Dude, I work at a fast-food restaurant.”

“Is it Arby’s?”

“Are you mentally okay? Who even likes Arby’s?”

“They have the meats.”

“Whatever, man.”

After that we were silent. I slowly got on the motorcycle. It was much different than my own. I liked to pretend I was getting on a horse but in the process of doing this I fell off the bike. I got back on and slowly left the parking lot.

At the Arby’s, I decided to order some meat from the mountains. God, they looked so scrumptious. I couldn't wait to share them with the Riddler. Did he even want them though? Did he even want to see me? Did he still love me at all? How could he? What had happened to us? Did he unpin me from his friend list on SpaceHey? DID HE UPDATE OUR FACEBOOK STATUS FROM IN A RELATIONSHIP TO IT’S COMPLICATED??? I was so sad. Mascara running down my little siren eyes, how I hated that guy. I was the siren eyes, and the Riddler was the doe eyes. We were perfect for each other. But it had all been spoiled, like milk. I missed him, that traitor. He was so sweaty and a traitor, but I loved him.

This was gonna make me even more emo than before. I had to see him. I put on MCR, specifically Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge (we were the demolition lovers fr fr) and hopped on my (not mine) motorcycle. I began to drive to Arkham, the entire way there listening to emo music and crying.

Chapter 29: My Life is Just like Bohemian Rhapsody (Song Fic)

Chapter Text

This chapter includes a song! It sounds like this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ9rUzIMcZQ

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

I faced the human hyena across the cell. Macaroni art scattered between us. A waxy sheen from the crayons covered my hands causing my immense sweating to be minimized. It was arts and crafts time in the prison. But I knew Crane and his fugly shoes were doing a test on us. He was probably giving us puzzles and directly comparing our intelligences to monkeys or something. This idea popped into my head when he asked us to sort by colors and count coins. Just a few minutes ago, he walked in and said,

"Oh no! I want to eat this banana, but it is stuck in this puzzle box! Could you help me figure out the puzzle and get it out?"

I knew what he was doing; he could never live up to the greatness that was Dr. Jane Goodall. She was the first to observe those entrancing animals eating meat and using tools, thus expanding our understanding of primate capabilities. His research would pale compared to hers. She was an amazing talented and smart woman; he was a fake bird man with ugly shoes and Brendon Urie vibes. Kinda like this:

Life in the prison felt unreal... Like a fantasy, the weird schedule and lack of windows confused time and reality. Being stuck with this clown. I didn't know if he made my time there better or worse. He frequently applied makeup and talked about society. He was like the worst parts of me came to life. I wondered if he was extra lactose intolerant too.

Just then, Crane came in...

"We asked your parents to write you guys letters to inspire you along your journey of recovery and growth," he smiled. "Joker, here's your letter." He stared at me while handing my cellmate his handmade, lavishly decorated letter.

HE HAD PARENTS!!?!??!??! WHAT THE f*ck! How did this heathen acquire parents? Mine didn't even show up for my birth. How did he have any? HE SUCKED! I bet they were mean anyway. They probably hated him even.

"SorryEddie, I know your parents don't want you, so have this Zara coupon instead."

This was the most evil thing he could do. He knew I couldn't navigate the website. No person could.

"Joker, your parents also sent these homemade cookies, a bread basket, and this pile of gifts. They seem to really love you."

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT!!! No fwording way. They were probably poisoned. They probably were just compensating for being sh*tty people. The joker confirmed my suspicions when he shouted,

"UGHHHHHH I HATE MY MOM! She's so annoying she sucks as a parent."

"What XD" I said.

"Shut up you don't even have a mom," Crane replied.

"Yeah, my mom's the wurstttttttt," Joker said in a German accident.

Man,this guy was funny .

I couldn't help but laugh, which made him laugh even more. I was angry he had such nice parents, but God he was good. The fact that he hated them made me feel slightly better.

Caught in a landslide,

No escape from reality

Open your eyes,

Look up to the skies and see,

Crane got a call on the intercom all of a sudden, and he checked his Apple Watch. Ofc he would have an Apple Watch.

"Riddler, someone is here for you."

"What if it's your parents?!" Joker exclaimed.

"Uhhh possibly bahahahaha," I let out a fake little chuckle.

"Why would they want to see you? They abandoned you for a reason," Crane shot back.

"STOP! I bet you don't even have a dad!" I got him so good.

"I actually have four, that's four more than you."

"Hey Riddler," Joker interrupted, "Guess what the evil chicken laid?"

"What?" I asked.

"We don't have time for this, Joker," sighed Crane.

"DEVILED EGGS!"

I collapsed to the floor laughing. I was laughing so hard that tears were coming out of my eyes, and my ribs hurt. Thank God I never drank water, because if I did, I would have peed my pants. I heard Crane shout to the guards to grab me and transport me to the visiting room. When they came over, I tried to stand up but kept falling down because I was laughing too hard. They eventually dragged me out.

I blacked out along the way because I was laughing so hard, I forgot to breathe. But when I woke up, I was face to face withhim. Well, more like face to glass to face.

"Why are you here?" I spat.

"I got you Arby's, but I had to eated it at the gate, so I hope you know I ate this Meat Mountain out of love for you."

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,

I shook my head in disgust. "I don't need your sympathy. You ratted me out, a meat mountain alone won't win me back."

The truth was, a Meat Mountain sounded so good rn (right now). I missed Bruce. I really did. We were both poor orphan boys. I took that back– only one of us was POOR (I was poor in every sense of the word). As God divinely inspired in the hit book the Bible, "Blessed are the poor in spirit for they will inherit the earth." His upbringing explained why he couldn't understand my cause– eat the rich. Out of all the rich though, I would eat him first (lovingly). His pathetic appeals with a Meat Mountain would not be able to stop me.

"Eddie... you can't do this."

"Yes, I can."

Because I'm easy come, easy go,

Little high, little low,

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to

Me, to me

"WHY? I just don't understand. There is always another way. Can't we fight this corruption together, the right way? You and me, the Batman and the Riddler. Cole and Lloyd (Ninjago masters of Spinjitzu). I am begging you, let me help. Don't do this."

I didn't understand why he kept trying. I didn't understand how he thought I could become a better person. I never was a good person. I was the Riddler. I was damned the second my parents abandoned me.

I scoffed. "So, you turn me in, then ask for my help? What, like I'm supposed to just fall to my knees and thank you for your charity?"

"This isn't charity, Eddie. This is another (another another) chance. A chance for us," he pleaded.

"Why... Why won't you just give up on me already?"

"I can't. Not on you."

Mama

Just killed a man,

Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger,

Now he's dead

I circled my enclosure, reflecting on Bruce's offer. He was too good, too naive to see the true side of man. He thought he saw the best in others, but he didn't fully realize what evils humans were capable of.

"I have tortured and killed to get where I am. Violence is the only language the corrupt elite can understand. Because of me, people in power are starting to think twice about taking a bribe or working with Falcone. What have you done?"

Bruce hesitated. Deep down, he knew that I was right, as sick and twisted as it was. Those he put away were back on the streets, committing the same crimes they were put away for.

He shook his head. "This isn't your fight. If you do this by yourself, your own way, you will be stuck here, rotting away for the rest of your life. You will be forgotten, and soon corruption will be gnawing at this city again."

His reply sounded almost selfish, like the only reason he didn't want me to stay in prison was because he wanted me. I couldn't blame him; my aquatic features attracted all the females (and men). To be fair, I did want those beefy arms all to myself.

"Do you really think this city will forget the one who ordered its destruction?"

"Do you really think killing the corrupt and innocent is going to help your cause?"

"God sent a great flood over the entire earth, only sparing Moses and his family. This city needs cleansing. A new start."

Bruce lowered his gaze. "Then I'm sorry that you have to destroy your relationship along with the rest of Gotham."

Mamaaa, life had just begun,

But now I've gone and thrown it all away

"I threw my life away though there was none to begin with. This mission, this plan is everything."

I had thrown my life away, like the time at the orphanage when I fell down a trash chute. The only ones there to comfort me, my friends, were the rats. It was the most corrupt trash chute; I was only trying to throw away my Jerma985 merch after I found out he got a girlfriend. Nothing against her, just angry that he got a girlfriend before me. Trust me, I didn't want to be the girlfriend; I wasn't gay. I just want a female for myself; I didn't want to be held by Jerma. I was not gay (not anymore since me and Bruce broke up but even then, I wasn't gay (I was the sigma MALE in that relationship)). Even though I got gay for the Gay Test- Am I Gay, Straight, or Bisexual?, I wasn't gay. They lied. They were corrupt like the rest of Gotham. Anyways, it was so unfair he got a girlfriend. I couldn't believe he would do that. I trusted him.

When I was with Bruce, it felt like I had a chance at life. To live without the burden of my past, my nuances, and complexities. I was a very complex person. I wish I could turn on do not disturb for my brain, but my brain was already very disturbed. He was the only one who believed in me, but we were too different, too stubborn to be together. We both wanted the same thing, to save the city, but we would never agree on each other's methods.

Bruce placed his hand on the glass separating us. "You have a life with me. Am I not part of your everything?"

"Don't lie to me," I snapped, "You don't know what it was like in that orphanage, you Twinkle Toe wearing, goody two shoes orphan." He really didn't. Me and the other 29 and a half orphans were miserable. We couldn't do anything but take physics and sing in church choirs. Before I aged out of the system, during my last year at the orphanage, they added AP Art to their curriculum. AP ART WAS AN ENDLESS TORTURE! I had never been a part of a more corrupt program. I made a series of tweets about it.

"You are part of my everything." Bruce said.

Mama, oooh,

Didn't mean to make you cry,

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,

Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come,

"Bruce, trust me. This is the only way. Do you think I wanted this to happen between us? I never wanted to hurt you."

I was certain that I would never see him again, so I had to make the little amends I could. I had to come to terms with my fate: capital punishment. Yes or no? I never believed in it, and I would never see the day where it would one day be outlawed.

"How do you plan to get out of this? When the flood starts, are you just going to stay here until Arkham crumbles? Do you think I'll just let that happen?"

"I'm dying either way."

Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all

The time

Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go,

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

"You don't have to die. Not if I can-"

"You bought your way out of being complicit in Gotham's most high- profile criminal case. They didn't even thinktwice, (I did once (as in a fan of the hit kpop girl band Twice)). Money made them look the other way. For me, I didn't have any trial, any lawyer willing to defend me– they just locked me away. These systems, they can't just be reformed, they must be destroyed and then built from the rubble."

"Didn't you deny the lawyer though?"

"They are all corrupt."

All of a sudden, Saul from Saul Goodman burst in.

"Hi I'm Saul, Saul Goodman from Saul Goodman. Did you know that you have rights? The Constitution says you do!"

An eruption of applause appeared out of thin air. Before either of us could respond, another round of applause was heard.

"NOT NOW, SAUL GOODMAN!" We yelled in unison.

"Rats!!!!" he yelped, snapping his fingers.

"I like those...I think they are neat," I replied.

"I like wolves...They just get me. On a spiritual level, I am a wolf," Bruce chimed.

"I'm squeaky like a rat!"

"There are two wolves inside of me. I'm ferocious and deadly like one. I also reduce coyote populations. I am a lone wolf, as most wolves are temporarily alone while they disperse from packs to form their own or join another one. They are territorial, like me, generally establishing territories far larger than they require to survive ensuring a steady supply of prey. Similarly, I also communicate using vocalizations, body postures, scent, touch, and taste."

"I'm casted as garbage...like a rat."

Nobody wanted to talk after that.

Mama, oooh

I don't want to die,

Soon the waters surrounding Gotham would baptize the city, and the corrupt systems would crumble. I knew that many lives would be lost, perhaps even my own, but saving the city would be worth it. I had always figured I would be ready to die since I had nothing to live for. But now, my heart beat for Bruce; my world was Bruce.

"Bruce, I don't want to die. But I have to avenge this city of its sins. I'm doing this for you. For all of us. Let me save you from your sins."

"Eddie, listen to me. Let me save you. We can do this together."

"I don't want to die Bruce... I don't want to die."

I let out a scream that soon turned into sobs.

I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.

"I'm tired of fighting," I sighed, "I wish I never was an orphan. I wish I was like you, too rich to care about the rest of us. I wish I didn't have to do this."

Bruce eagerly placed both hands on the glass. "Call it off. I'll help you escape, and we'll run away together, leaving Gotham behind."

For the first time, running away sounded tempting. To feel the bliss of ignorance. Bruce and I could start a life together, in the country, like we always wanted. Like Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, I wanted to flee from my duty, my mission, my destiny. If I had a father to pray to, I would have. My God, why hast thou forsaken me?

I see a little silhouetto of a man,

Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the Fandango!

"What do you say, Eddie?"

"I- I..." I stammered. An acceptance nearly escaped my mouth, but I held back after remembering the little, miserable orphan that I was, waiting for someone to save me. There were ones just like me, and here, I held the power to savethem. Running away would just be selfish.

I shook my head, disgusted by my moment of weakness. "The vans will be parked any minute. It's only a matter of time now. Save yourself while you can."

Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me

Galileo,

"EDDIE!"

Galileo

"BRUCE!"

Galileo,

"EDDIE!"

Galileo

"BRUCE!"

Galileo,

"EDDIE!"

Figaro - magnificoo

I'm just a poor boy nobody loves me

"YOU HEARD ME. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH! IF YOU LOVE ME, DON'T STOP ME."

He's just a poor boy from a poor family,

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

"Eddie, Eddie, I can't pretend to understand how you feel. But listen to me. Think about the innocent people you'll be killing."

I paused as the image of the old orphanage flashed behind my eyes. The hundreds of children failed by society with no one to love them.

"I- I'm doing them a favor. They shouldn't have to grow up in a hell like this."

"You can't possibly believe that."

I scoffed. "Easy for you to say, isn't it? When you grew up in a mansion."

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go

If you love me let me go

Bismillah! No, we will not let you go

Bruce anxiously glanced at the clock on the wall. "Enough games. We're running out of time. I need an answer."

"You got one. I'm not changing my mind."

(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go

"EDDIE, LET ME SAVE YOU!"

(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go

"NO! JUST LEAVE ALREADY!"

(Let me go) Will not let you go

"NOT WITHOUT YOU!"

(Let me go)(Never) Never let you go

"I'M WARNING YOU!"

(Let me go) (Never) let you go (Let me go) Ah

No, no, no, no, no, no, no

I peered at the clock and grinned.

"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" Bruce shouted, banging on the glass.

Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me,

For meee

"AVEEEEE MARIIIIIIAAAAAAAA"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

I ran to the small window above my bed and was met with the orange glow of fire and the drumming of explosions. It looked like this:

I fell into a manic fit of giggles as I watched Gotham begin to flood.

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye

So you think you can love me and leave me to die

Bruce staggered back, his mouth agape. "I- I need to save them. I need to save all of them.What have you done?"

"You really thought," I laughed, "that you could stop me."

Any sense of love or pity that Bruce once had for me faded in his horrified expression. I'd never seen him like this. The intimidating, stoic composure of the Batman disappeared– he was now plagued by anxiety, fear, and utter confusion. It almost destroyed me to see him so unrecognizable, but it was too late. Either way, it had to be done.

Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby,

Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

I turned around again to face the window and watch the result of my final plan. My fans, my followers, had done it. Completed to perfection. I heard footsteps and a door slam behind me.

Nothing really matters, Anyone can see,

Nothing really matters,

Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows...

It was done.

It had finally been done.

The fight was over; I could finally rest. Corruption was eradicated. The flood would baptize the city. A feeling of relief overwhelmed me, but as I turned to look in Batman's eyes, he was gone.

What had I done?

Chapter 30: Where We Landing At?

Chapter Text

Eddie was crazy. He was so interesting looking when he talked about something he was passionate about. It was almost attractive. What wasnotattractive was that he went all maniac and blew up my hometown. Like Tomato Town, Gotham was no more.

I gazed at the barren sea of ashes before me. I desperately tried to picture the humble cottages that once dotted the quaint country landscape that raised me. No one cared to know Gotham before my boyfriend (ex boyfriend tbh) blew her up. We lived simple, slow lives, cultivating our beautiful land and thanking God for blessing us with shelter, food, and family. Of course I didn’t thank God now because I didn’t believe in him. I only believed in the savings I enjoyed by earning Kohl’s cash. Although we didn’t have much, we were happy, and we were grateful. I still remembered how the void in my empty stomach managed to make me feel heavy, full of grief, as I waited for the season’s harvest. I remembered how relieved I felt when Alfredo (my personal butler) brought me my Louis Vuitton SpaghettiOs. The gilded spoon and fork, and the beautifully crafted Louis Vuitton noodles that floated before me reminded me of when Louis Vuitton himself attended my second birthday party and baptism in the Notre Dame, a small local church, which we rented out for the day. Maroon 5 crashed my party, like they did all things. After Adam Levine showed up unprompted to my baptism, dressed in clerical clothing and drenched in busy, clipart tattoos, I developed my raging hatred for that npc of a man. I unfortunately ended up in the Sugar music video, where you could see Adam actively flirting with my mom, and when rejected, turning to Alfredo. Adam Levine could no longer flirt with my mom because she was dead, meaning she was not alive. Maroon 5 even had the audacity to crash my parents’ funeral, where he sang Sugar over my mom’s grave (he couldn’t let go) and plagued our ears with his top 10 hits (his only hits). It looked like this:

God, our town was so quaint and poor. If only we had some government funding. That’s what Renewal was supposed to be for. I wondered why it became so corrupt. I think people were just greedy and selfish. They could have justaskedthe government for help instead of stealing. It probably wasn’t that hard. Not like it was my parents’ dream or anything. They could neither oversee the program nor dream because they were dead. Murdered right in front of me. Their deaths (plural because both my parents died) made me an orphan, meaning that both of my parents were not alive (dead).

Eddie was monologuing, and in between his sentences, mumbling the words to Bohemian Rhapsody. I couldn't believe he actually did it. Sure, he continuously told me that he would and that he would never change, but I thought my wordswouldchange him. I could have fixed him. It was like, for the first time in my life, someone told me “no.” I didn’t like the feeling at all. I had to go fix this… But could I leave him here? Could I leave him like this?

I decided to leave him like that. He turned away to look at the chaos he induced upon our city. He had tried to ascend to the level of God, flooding the city, our world, to rid itself from sin and corruption. The citizens would be the Nephilim, a perverted race, destined to be destroyed by God’s hand. The citizens of Gotham. They needed me. I slowly tiptoed towards the door. I was trying not to make too much noise. This was the perfect time to show off my parkour skills... and save people ofc. I was being so stealthy and quiet as Eddie was entranced with the view outside. I finally made it to the door and turned around to exit. I had been very quiet, but I couldn't resist slapping the door frame. It called to me like the box called Pandora (not the music streaming site) or the serpent to Eve. I quickly slapped the smooth cold metal and then bolted out the door to the bathroom where I then locked the door.

“What's wrong, bat boy?”

“Meow.”

I meowed on instinct because I thought he said cat boy. It was Crane? Had he been listening the whole time? Did he not care about the city being blown up? Where did he live? All his favorite places were gone, including Hobby Lobby, Spirit Halloween, IKEA, and Rack Room Shoes.

“Uhhh everything is fine!”

“Me when I lie.”

I needed to get him off my back. I had to create a distraction.

“BFFFTTTTTTTTTTT. Blech. BAAAAAAAAAA”

“What thef*ckis going on in there?”

“BHALALALALlALALALlALALA”

“SHUT THE f*ck UP!”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“I run a prison, not a daycare for Christ sake!”

f*ck. I needed a new distraction. “I'm sorry, it's just… uhhh… I got my… period…?”

“...What?”

“Yeah, um, it just started a few minutes ago.”

“I- I didn't know this about you,” he stammered, clearing his throat, “I- I admire your bravery. I might hate you, but not because of this. I hope you know I support you. You don't have to worry.”

“Don't worry it’s-”

“It's what?”

I quickly tried to change the subject. “Why are you not more concerned about the explosion that just happened?”

“Normal Tuesday for me… can’t have sh*t in Gotham.”

“Are you not worried your, like, studio apartment blew up?”

“Oh I live here. In the basem*nt.”

“What about your favorite stores, like Hobby Lobby?”

“We have one of those too,” he started, “M- May I get you some Hobby Lobby tampons? I fully support you, even though I don't understand it!”

“No, it’s okay, it will be over in a few minutes.”

“What? It’ll be over in a few minutes? I thought it just started.”

“That's how it works right? OH I mean, I mean, I'll be able to turn it off soon yeah yeah…”

“WHAT?”

I was blowing my cover… Wait, this was the perfect opportunity to get him away.

“Actually, I think I'm gonna need the tampons.”

“I hate you so much, but I am a #ally.”

I heard the sound of his ugly shoes hitting the floor as he walked away. He was muttering something about wanting to recruit some new patients, more test subjects. He had to have been the most hom*ophobic gay man in the world.

With him gone, I could finally start my makeup routine. The first step in rescuing all of Gotham from the chaos Riddler caused. I began my makeup routine. It looked like this:

Remember to use my code “Vengeance” for 10% off. Makeup was an extremely important part of my process. How was I expected to save the city if my eyeliner wasn't on point, if my brows were not on fleek? I needed to blind those villains with my highlight. If I didn't use my James Charles makeup palette and Fenty Beauty contour, people could look at me and know who I was, even with my mask on. My Rare Beauty blush was also important– I didn't use it because I had to look lifeless and emo– but I had to support my girl Selena Gomez. I loved her music. She was an underrated emo musician. I related deeply to her song Wolves.

I drenched myself in e.l.f. Stay All Night Micro-Fine Setting Mist, Hydrating & Refreshing Makeup Setting Spray For 16 Hour Wear and pulled on my mask. I almost started toward my motorcycle before I realized it would be completely useless. How would I reach the stadium? The battle bus! Alfredo had given me a life size, functioning recreation of the bus for my 13th birthday.

I took my phone and called Alfredo.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“The battle bus, Alfredo.”

“I’ll be right away, sir.”

“Wait are you driving-”

“Remember, sir, the wall does not falter to the wind.”

He then hung up on me. As soon as that happened, I heard a muffled https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YvgUrg-vFoA from overhead. I raced to the roof access, slapped the door frame, and soared to the roof. IT WAS THE BATTLE BUS! I was gonna victory royale the flood! I would take the Battle Bus to Gotham Gates (Gotham stadium) to get a victory royale (save the city). Alfredo gave a little https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zAyP1H1KvSI. Despite owning the Battle Bus, I have never really taken a bus before, unless you count the private party bus that Jimmy Kimmel rented out for my godmother Kim Kardashian's birthday party. Which Adam Levine also crashed, like at my mom’s funeral. She had a funeral because she was dead. My dad was at the funeral too, not because he was a guest, but because he was dead too.

I boarded the Battle Bus and took a seat by the back door. I wondered when the snack cart would come by. I hope they had Monster.

A clawed hand appeared on the seat in front of me. It was… it was… a- a woman? They were real? I quickly averted my eyes, catching a glimpse of her short brown hair and black suit. I hadn’t seen her before. What was she doing here? Perhaps she snuck on. Or was a Fortnite streamer. My mom could never stream Fortnite because she was dead.

“I’ve been trying to reach you, Vengeance. I’ve needed your help to take this lunatic down.”

SHE TALKED TO ME? A GIRL? IN REAL LIFE? What was I supposed to say? That I’ve never spoken to a girl before?? I’ve only talked to Marinara, but she didn’t count. I used to talk to my mom, but I couldn't because she was dead. I tried to stay calm.

“GIRL.”

“...I was thinking we would divide and conquer-”

“WOMEN… ah yes uhhh I was going to do that…this is my bus…I own this bus. You're a girl.”

“Damn, you own this thing? You must be rich then, like that billionaire Bruce Wayne and his daddy’s slime business. ”

“He seems like a really cool guy that Bruce Wayne, who I am not. I'm not him, but if I was, I bet I would be really cool. He seems like really emo and cool. I'm not him but I think he is cool.”

“You think he iscool?”

“I'm not him. I’m Batman, not Bruce Thomas Wyane, whose parents died on the 26th of June at 10:47 pm and lives at 1007 Mountain Drive, Gotham and was born to wealthy physician Dr. Thomas Wayne and his wife Martha, who were themselves members of the prestigious Wayne and Kane families of Gotham City, respectively. When he was three, Bruce's mother Martha was expecting a second child to be named Thomas Wayne, Jr. His social security number is 568739230, which mine is not. He is also male, and I am not I am gay. He is also the Heir to Wayne Enterprises.”

It was silent for a few minutes.

“...Like I said, I’ve needed your help to take this lunatic down. To avenge my friend.”

“Did your friend also have cooties?”

Suddenly, the bus lurched forward, and the two of us fell out of our seats. The breaks screeched as Alfredo slammed on the brakes.

“Alfredo? What’s going on?”
“Sir, have you forgotten that I am blind? I must have ran into something.”

My mind flashed back to the night the Titanic sank. I wasn’t there, but I watched a high school production of the musical with Alfredo once. The mics were too quiet, and the band was too loud, but the visuals were somewhat appealing.

The woman started towards the door.

“Wait,” I began, “Before we go, I have something to tell you. I’ve never met anyone like you before. At night, while gazing at the moon, I would often ask myself what the meaning of life was. Was it vengeance? Did it mean anything at all? There was a darkness growing inside of me. Should I suppress it, or give in? All my life, it seems, there is a constant battle inside of my mind. My demons. Where I stand here, now, I find meaning. We all must search for meaning– Me, Alfredo, and, uh, what’s your name?”

“Catwoman.”

“LMAOO lame ass name fr fr. Bro really just put the two words that described her put together. Good luck finding meaning with that name,” I paused, “Sorry. My demons won that time. Don’t listen to them.”

“What f*cking ever,Batman.”

“A GIRL KNOWS MY NAME??”

Before Catwoman could reply, Alfredo called, “I’m afraid this is where your journey ends and another begins, sir. The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.” He got up, tried to open the door, failed, but got it the second time.

I thanked the driver before we jumped out of the bus and found an entryway into the stadium.

I was horrified at the sight. There were about a dozen of army- green clad soldiers– loyal followers of the Riddler. Citizens trapped under rubble, waist- deep in water. My heart sank. If only Eddie could have seen what he had done. Would he have changed his mind?

I parkoured down to the water and lit my flare. I pushed through the water, freeing people and leading them to safety.This wasn’t vengeance, I thought. This whole time, I had been focused on punishing criminals, fighting crime. Only a thin, almost blurred line between me and the Riddler. But helping people was different. Itfeltdifferent. I was actually making a difference. Just like when I donated money to build that opera house! My parents did a lot of donating when they were alive. They couldn’t donate anymore because they were dead.

“Catwoman”and I worked tirelessly to save the rest of the survivors. Before I could thank her for being my first real interaction with a woman (I didn't have a mom; she was dead and couldn't interact anymore), she had disappeared (like my mother except she didn’t disappear really she just died (like my dad who was also dead (I was an orphan))).

Besides orphan, my mind went back to thinking about Eddie. I felt guilty for still caring about him, even after witnessing his destruction. Should I go back to him? Did he need me? He betrayed everything I stood for. He had proved, time and time again, that he would choose his movement over me.

“Vengeance, we don’t choose who we love. We just do. So what are you going to do about it?”

I could practically hear the Penguin’s soothing Italian voice. He was right. He had to be. He cooka da pizza. Despite all logic and reason, I loved Eddie.

One last time. I had to go back.

Chapter 31: Life is a BetterHelp Ad

Chapter Text

“I can’t help you if you don't talk to me, Edward.”

The millennial vigorously tapped her pencil against the desk. Despite the whole city being flooded over, she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. The muffled sounds of car alarms, sirens, and screams only barely reached the asylum. Uncomfortable in the silence, she resorted to reorganizing her beige office supplies into their respective beige organizers.

“Sorry, I’m so OCD right now,” she laughed. “Why don’t we talk about your boyfriend? He just left you here, right? How does that make you feel?”

Before I could answer, the stone wall, right next to the doorway, bursted open. The hole was suspiciously marsupial man shaped.

“YOU TOLD YOUR THERAPIST ABOUT ME?”

The therapist, visibly unimpressed, gestured to an open seat next to me. Bruce, his batsuit now caked in stone dust, refused to move.

“You want me to go to… therapy? No therapist, nay, person could quell the demons inside of me. The devil shivers at the thought of the darkness in my mind. You wouldn’t get it. Your worst nightmares pale in comparison. You don’t know what it’s like to not have parents. To be an orphan.”

As Bruce talked, the therapist furiously took notes on her iPad.

“Could these feelings stem from your relationship with your mother?”

“Did you not hear? My mother is dead. So is my father.” He lowered his gaze to meet mine. “I am an orphan, like Eddie. Except I wasn’t abandoned by my parents; they were brutally murdered right in front of me, which is arguably worse. Not like it’s a competition or anything.”

“WE ALREADY DID THIS AT ARBY’S-“

The therapist, completely ignoring my presence, nodded along to Bruce’s words. God, he had a lot to say for a guy who hated therapy. Maybe if he joined the Riddlertron official Discord server he’d find the vent channel.

“And how does that make you feel , Batman?”

Bruce turned the metal chair around and took a seat. “Well, the crippling guilt of not being able to save my now dead parents from dying sort of forced me into self-isolation as a punishment. Now I dedicate my entire life to saving others because I failed to save the only people I cared about.”

“Do you happen to think this stems from the relationship you have with your mother?”

“My mother… She is dead just like my father. I am a lone wolf, or might I say, a popular loner. I am an orphan… But I do it everyday, so it's fine. I absolutely do not miss my mommy and look for her within a butler who I hired and acts as my mom who I accidently blinded.”

“Mhmmmmmm… so, how does that make you feel?”

The aggressive shaking of her Panera Fuji Apple Salad created a white noise which allowed me to space out, and I began to notice the sheer amount of BetterHelp ads plastered on the wall. In the center, directly behind her, was a printed and framed online degree for dance.

Before the therapist could ask if Bruce’s feelings could stem from his relationship with his mother, a loud burst shook the window as green light filled the room. The three of us instinctively looked for the source, seeing “I <3 BATMAN -RIDDLER” spelt out with fireworks in the sky.

Batman leapt from his seat. “YOU’RE PUTTING ON A FIREWORK SHOW AFTER EXPLODING THE CITY?”

I scooted my chair back. “T- That could have been anybody… Riddler is a common name…”

“YOUR FULL NAME, SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER, AND IP ADDRESS ARE ON DISPLAY!”

“I swear that was my little brother…”

“YOU DON’T HAVE A BROTHER!”

“You wouldn’t know him… He goes to another school.”

The sound of https://youtu.be/kcT-i9xzC-8 interrupted our argument. The therapist checked her Apple Watch.

“Unfortunately, that’s all the time I have with you. I charge extra for couples therapy.”

She flipped the iPad, displaying a screen to insert or tap a credit card. Batman awkwardly dug into his utility belt, produced a custom card with a hyper realistic wolf and galaxy background, and followed the directions. The therapist flipped the screen back, tapped a few times, and flipped once more.

“If you could just answer the question on the screen,” she said, instinctively looking away.

Peering behind Batman, I could see 4 options for tip: 25%, 30%, 50%, or 75%, with the 30% option selected by default. Batman clicked the “no tip” option below with a picture of the therapist frowning next to it, which was subsequently followed by at least 6 “Are you sure?” messages. The iPad displayed another message, and he tapped and handed the tablet back.

“What charity did I just round up for?”

“Oh. It’s not really a charity. It’s just for me.”

She stood up, grabbing her beige Stanley cup, and the rattling of her beige keyring created a doppler effect as she walked down the hallway. The lights flickered, and eventually the room was plunged into darkness.

He came back for me. I didn’t deserve it. Was there any logic in love? I destroyed his city and chose my plan over him. I represented everything he hated. He saw something in me that I couldn’t. There was probably nothing at all. No matter how many times we turned on each other, we were pulled back together like magnets. No matter what, he always came back.

Bruce grabbed my hand. “We gotta go. Before this whole place collapses.”

I looked up at Bruce’s arms. His suit accentuated his bulging muscles. They were practically built for cradling, especially a petite little fella like me.

“If only someone was able to carry me because I’m just so small and weak…”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Safe in the embrace of my man, within his big juicy arms, we began our escape. Our steps reverberated down the hallway. This wing of the asylum was particularly dilapidated; the cracked concrete walls were sewn together by vines, the tile floor discolored and worn. Despite its state, Arkham Asylum stood well against my flood.

It was my flood we were running from.

It was necessary. I had to believe that. I did believe that. Gotham, that irredeemable, vile city, could finally start over. Rich corporate empires crumbled. Corrupt systems cleansed. Me and my followers would rebuild the city that I dreamed of growing up in. The city I deserved. Something Bruce would never understand.

A yellow glow flooded into the end of the hallway. A faint conversation carried down towards us. Who could possibly be here amidst the flood? Did they even try to escape? I let out a squeak as Bruce’s grip on me tightened. He inched closer with unparalleled stealth.

I held my breath as Bruce stopped next to the doorframe.

“It’s just a couple of cents! Can’t this Hobby Lobby coupon cover the rest? It’s all I have.”

A chill ran down my spine at the recognition of the voice. The only man who would die before leaving Arkham Asylum.

Bruce stepped into view, revealing Jonathan Crane sitting at his desk, haggling a poor Doordash worker.

“Just take it– it’s enough to treat yourself with some nice scented pinecones!”

“It’s company polic- I literally don’t get paid enough to care. Just take your Chipotle.”

The Doordash employee grabbed his insulated bag and left. I winced in agony as Dr. Crane kicked his HeyDude-clad feet up onto his desk. He ate his Chipotle bowl with one hand, holding Catcher in the Rye up to his face with the other. That freak WISHED he was as Holden Caulfield coded as me (he just like me fr). Noticing Batman’s looming presence, he lowered his book.

“Can I help you?”

Bruce shifted his weight uncomfortably. “You’re just going to stay here?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I live here. Can you close the door on your way out?”

I gave that Hobby Lobby fiend one last look before closing the door. He’d be the last one standing in that wreck of a building, like the scented pinecones stand during the end of the Christmas season. The sound of Bruce’s heavy footfall echoed as he descended the rickety metal stairs. As we approached the first floor, he stopped in his tracks. The last few steps were submerged in water, and the water level was rapidly rising. I looked up worriedly at Bruce. When had he taken his mask off? As he glanced at me, the words of Dream himself rang in my ears: “I wear a mask with a smile for hours at a time.” My ears began to bleed at the thought of the song. Though Bruce could never understand my actions, I could never fully realize the struggles he faced inside (being emo) (having a screen time limit). No mask could hide the fact that he had demons inside. Inside of him was a wolf that only I could tame.

Bruce waded through the water, looking for a window, a door, any possible way out. Even when he already scanned the whole ground floor twice, like k-pop band, he kept looking. The water level continued to rise. Bruce knew that I was hydrophobic, not to be confused with hom*ophobic, so he did his best to keep me away from the water, but we were running out of time.

“I- I’m sorry, Eddie,” he said between breaths, “I- I can look again.” His face betrayed his words. For the first time since I met him, he was scared. He was scared of everything except me . It didn’t make any sense. How could he look at me and not see a monster :3?

Behind his raven tresses, his panicked gray orbs pierced through me.

“I just want you to know that despite everything, you were worth saving.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. My heart was beating too fast.

“You’re, well, interesting to look at, though you have an unfortunate face. And even though you’re comically sweaty, like, your entire head is soaking wet but it hasn’t been anywhere near the water, I think your appearance is intriguing. You’re, like, actually attractive sometimes.”

That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“I- Is there anything else you want to tell me? Before we, you know…” I batted my eyelashes.

“Um, your stench reminds me of a Meat Mountain in a slightly good way. And you’re sort of nice when you try to be.”

“Bruce-”

“Dying seems better now that I’m going with you.” A black tear ran down his face. “You’re like, the Pete to my Wentz, bro. Life without you would be like… life without a Meat Mountain. You’ve been special since I first met you. When I looked into your eyes, the wolf trapped inside my soul howled, and for the first time, it felt tameable. Like me and My Chemical Romance, it only listens to you.”

“Brucie—”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about life in these 2 minutes of standing waist-deep in water with you. It matters not what you’ve done but what you do with what you’ve done… for others.”

“Brucie,” I started, revealing the convenient exit I was covering the whole time, “We can escape. Together.”

“What the f*ck.”

“:3”

I extended my hideously sweaty hand. Pogchamp! He took my hand without the usual hesitation.

“Damn shawty you could fry chicken with all this grease (sweat).”

“Take me away, Brucie,” I whispered as we exited the exit.

We embarked on our journey through the exit, entering the entrance. The Gotham streets we once knew were concealed under a layer of wa wa. Our glossy orbs, flooded like the streets (with limpid tears), gazed upon the destruction I caused. It reminded me of a poem I wrote at my time at the local orphanage’s Big Lots! (the only store). It sounded like this:

!!BIG LAW POEM!!

Big poem,

Big knives,

Big lots!

BIG POEM,

Big brain

Big pog

Big law.

After reminiscing on my time at that miserable purgatory, I looked up at my Brucie, who was mewing to pass the time. As if he had read my mind, he broke the silence.

“Sorry, I’ve just been on the looksmaxxing grind recently. I can’t talk rn I need to mew.”

“I love looksmaxxing! I do it all the time; I learned it from Reddit!”

“I can tell. You are very attractive. Sometimes you look good.”

The intercom buzzed. “YOU? LOOKSMAXXING? MORE LIKE LOOKS MINIMIZING ! YOU HAVE NEGATIVE RIZZ!” Crane’s voice boomed.

I clenched my fists. Crane didn’t believe I was into looksmaxxing? That freakzoid probably had no idea what mewing was. Bro was literally talking to the Rizzler. While he spent hours rotting away on r/heydudes and r/medicalmalpractice, I was grinding jaw exercises to optimize my oral posture.

“Why I oughta—” I said, winding up my fist. “Don't make me give you a knuckle sandwich, Crane… no more Mr. Nice Guy.”

Batman looked at me with his sorrowful emo orbs. It was hard to see them through his caked on eyeliner, but God he was hot. I am a nice guy, so I was maintaining eye contact with him. In no way was I tempted by his buff, juicy arms that were so swole with lactic acid and made of muscle fibers called fascicles surrounded by a connective tissue layer called perimysium. You could just tell Bruce was a pro-looksmaxxer.

“Riddler, leave him alone. You can just tell he is jealous of our love.”

“Yes, because I am soooooooooo jealous of your sweaty greasy middle school romance,” Crane replied. You could hear him taking bites of his Chipotle bowl in between words.

Batman placed a hand on my shoulder. “See, I told you.”

We felt the ground move beneath us. I guess our love was just that powerful. The forbidden love that couldn’t be tamed. The crumbling of the Arkham foundation was worsening by the second. Oopsies :3.

“What are we going to do, Batman?”

“We could stay right here. The foundation of the soil seems pretty solid, as long as we get a bit farther away from the crumbling building we honestly should be good.”

“That makes sense. Thank you, pookie.”

“ ORRRR watch this!” Batman exclaimed as he started a running jump from the yard where we stood to the top of the Arkham fence, shouting, “PARKOUR!” It reminded me of the epic demonstration of centripetal force by the orphanage physics teacher, where she tied herself to a car and did donuts in the parking lot at ungodly speeds.

“Woahhh… that was so cool… I could never do something like that…”

Brucie looked down, extending his hand, “Don’t worry; let me teach you. Just take a running start and take my hand— I’ll pull you up.”

I took a few steps back for a running start.

“And don’t forget the first rule of parkour. You have to shout ‘PARKOUR!’ after every move. I learned it at the only class I took at Appalachian State University. Give it a try.”

“…Parkour!”

“C’mon, say it with your chest!”

“Parkour!”

“LOUDER!”

“PARKOUR!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“ PARKOUR!!!! ” I squealed and closed my eyes as I rolled my feet forward and pushed off. I felt my feet lifting off the ground as my body propelled forward. I was at least an inch off the ground. I felt Batman's strong arms reach down and pulled me. I totally made it.

“That was amazing, babe,” he said to me, “You got at least two inches off the ground; I only had to pull you up the other six feet.”

“:P Tankssss >_<”

“NOW WATCH THIS!” Brucie exclaimed before backflipping off the fence onto a mound of dirt surrounded by water. A few “PARKOUR!”s and frog leaps later, he found himself standing on a stationary car despite the strong current.

I blinked. Did he expect me to do that ? I stared into the raging waters below me, unable to move.

“Would you do it for a riddler snack?” Batman whispered.

“N- Nuh…”

“Would you do it for two riddler snacks???” he said, pulling out a box of saltines. He knew me so well; the spices of other crackers overwhelmed me.

“Oh, golly gee mister! Two whole riddler snacks (saltines)! What a steal!”

I held my nose and cannonballed into the water in a “Why I oughta…” way and sprang out of the water like the dolphin in Barbie and the Island Princess movie. It looked like this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fac6cjgGT98 (end at 0:09).

I landed gracefully next to Brucie. We parkoured out into the choppy, surging waters. The water was even more choppy and rough than normal, like someone had exploded the city and caused a flood or something. Whoever did was probably such a sigma male and could handle lactose. The farther out we went, the colder I was becoming. It reminded me of that one time I took a bath (and haven’t since). The water was getting rougher by the second, throwing me off my balance. Even Bruce was visibly struggling against the current and wind. How could a parkour expert like him possibly be struggling? I started to wonder if leaving was the right decision… How could facing these godless waters be safer? It was almost like we were safer at the asylum. Then I remembered this wasn’t only for Brucie… but Riddler snacks. It was worth it.

“This is so pogchamp!” I screamed out.

Brucie gestured to a lone door floating a few feet out and started to parkour over. I followed him. He landed on the door with a resounding thud he struggled to find his balance before finally standing up and calling me over.

“Eddie! It’s safe, don’t worry! We can totally both fit on this door very easily and it wont sink at all fr fr no cap king ong”

“Okie dokie,” I said and leapt onto the door.

It sank.

“f*ck,” Batman shouted as the water reached his ankles.

“F word,” I muttered.

“We need to get rid of stuff, so we’re light enough to float.”

“DIETTTTT CULTUREEEEE!” I shrieked, shivering at the core memory of eating cabbage soup for every meal at the orphanage. Brucie had the privilege of never having to go through the 2010 Healthy, Hunger-Free Kids Act championed by former first lady Michelle Obama.

“No, like, do you have anything in your pockets?”

“Oh maybe, let me check,” I said, rummaging through my jorts.

“When did you even change out of– How did I not notice your Weezer shirt?”

“I never take it off,” I replied, pulling out a pipe bomb. Rats, I never got to use it! I would just have to mail it to Crane’s home address (if he even had one). Unable to bear the sunk cost, I turned it on and threw it in the water.

We were almost waist deep in water. I searched through my pockets faster, throwing out a Hatsune Miku figure and some hyperhidrosis lotion. When it still wasn’t enough, I hesitantly parted from the I-Nspire™ CX CAS graphing calculator I used to tweet from in prison. As it sank to the murky, polluted water, I thought about the fond memories I had, like when I doxxed the Penguin and started beef with smiletwt. I lost a lot of oomfs that day, and that’s when riddler/neg had began trending. It was the top trending tag, beating out #taylorswiftcarbonemissions and #ripthequeen. God save her. The Smiths were my top artist that day. I know you have probably never heard of them, It's okay though; you wouldn’t understand their lyrics anyway.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. “It's still not enough.”

“Aw fiddlesticks, I wonder what's weighing us down.”

“It could be my-”

“WHAT IF IT'S YOUR SHIRT I BET ITS REALLY HEAVY AND HARD TO CARRY BUT NOT HARD FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE SO STRONG BUT I BET YOUR SHIRT IS SO HEAVY AND I'M NOT SAYING THIS BECAUSE I WANT TO SEE YOUR BEEFY ARMS OR ANYTHING THIS IS JUST WHAT NEEDS TO HAPPEN BECAUSE YOUR SHIRT IS WEIGHING US DOWN I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU SHIRTLESS OR ANYTHING.”

“Oh, I didn’t think about that. I thought it could be my 100 lbs ankle weights.”

THAT’S HOW HE GOT HIS GLORIOUS CANKLES. His legs were so strong, like they were sculpted out of marble and crafted by the gods themselves. Those cankles could cut diamonds, end wars, and bring us world peace.

The current continued raging, and the door still struggled to support the both of us. We were almost out of time.

“Guess I have to say goodbye to my HP Omen 45L Gaming PC and dual monitor system,” Brucie said reluctantly before tossing it into the water. He would sacrifice completing the battle pass… for me?

A wave rocked the door, and I nearly flew off, but Bruce grabbed my shoulders.

“Eddie, look at me.”

The saltwater stung my eyes as I managed to meet his gaze. His smudged eyeliner dripped down his face and mixed with his tears (he’d never sacrifice drama for anything waterproof). The certainty on his face scared me; it was the conviction of a martyr. Before he could say a word, I shook my head.

“No, Brucie, I’m sure the both of us just need to get rid of a few–”

“We are out of time.”

“No, we’re not! There’s another solution, there has to be, just let me help–”

“Look around, Eddie,” he gestured to the desolate hellscape, “we have no other option.”

“Let me go,” my voice trembled, “Let me do something good. Please. I can make this right .”

“Eddie…” he began.

“Bruce, please, listen to me. This is my burden to bear. My sins have led us to this abyss. I am the architect of our downfall, a wretched soul steeped in selfishness, agony, and despair. I've dragged you into this tempest, forsaking the greater good, forsaking the lives of countless innocents in favor of my own selfish desires. Your unwavering loyalty only amplifies my shame. Bruce, my alpha, I am but a wretched wraith, a pitiful orphan drowning in the sea of my own inadequacy. Forgive me for the darkness I've brought upon us all...”

“Eddie let me save you… You don't have to sacrifice yourself. You can change.. You can be better.” Cuba is now canon.

“JUST LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU, BATMAN! Let me right all my wrongs, and for once in my life, finally do something not worth shame. To save me would be the greatest insult.” Tears ran down my little bambi eyes.

“Then I guess I've insulted the greatest.”

Batman, in one motion, shoved me to the center of the door, and dove into the deep water surrounding us.

“BRUCIE??!?!? MY LITTLE POGCHAMP?? WHERE ARE YOU?”

It took a few moments for him to resurface.

“I am in the throes of a physical manifestation of my suppressed hom*osexuality.”

“Word,” I said.

Suddenly, in the distance, arising from the depths of the sea floor, we heard it. The Weezer Buddy Holly riff.

It sounded like this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHwKTOzLTDY.

“MY PIPE BOMB!”

The pipe bomb I had thrown in earlier somehow detonated, and we saw the ocean reacting. The water became choppier and rough, and the waves began to pick up, throwing us all around. It would have been fun if this was the teacup ride at Disney World, but it wasn't. This was Gotham, and everything had to be edgy and climatic, not magical, whimsical, and fun. Oh god, how I wished I was being thrown around on a magical ride with Bruce beside me. I had never been to Disney World because I was so f wording poor. Did they even let lactose intolerant people into the parks? I bet Bruce had gone multiple times, and he got all the fast passes and all the things he wanted. I bet Alfredo made a scrapbook each year summarizing their Disney trip. I looked over to Bruce. I was going to ask him about his Disney experience. He was holding onto the edge of the door for his life. I mean, man, he was grippin that sh*t. Knuckles white and nails painted black; it was honestly extremely emo of him.

“Is Princess Twilight Sparkle nice?” I had to ask my most burning question.

“What?”

“Like when you go to Disney– don't lie to a little fella like me, I know you go to Disney– is she as nice as she is in the show? Not that I watch the show or anything; I'm just curious like that: inquisitive and research-based ya know.”

“Did you just profile me? Did you just ASSUME I GO TO DISNEY?”

“Yes, every year.”

“No, not even! We went to Universal last year. And also, like, you can't assume things about people– that's so rude. I thought you were better than this.”

“I build pipe bombs for fun :3”

“Twilight isn't even at Disney World. She is not even a Disney princess; she was made by Hasbro, and she is too good for Disney. She is the legit princess of friendship and an inspiring role model for kids. God, I love ponies. They are like the wolves of the farm. If I were to be a pony, I would be a wolf.”

“SHE'S NOT A DISNEY PRINCESS?!?!?!? You would so be a wolf. I would be like a little piglet.”

This was heartbreaking. I always wanted a cutie mark. That's what my little question mark represented. It was from my ponysona I made using a DeviantArt pony base.

“Oh em Gee! Truth.” Brucie replied.

The waves kept getting stronger. He was struggling to hold on; his waterlogged suit beginning to weigh down the two of us.

“I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on, Eddie.”

“No,” I pleaded between shaky breaths and shallow gasps.

“Please, you have to… you are the best thing to ever happen to me. The only good thing to happen to me. You are all I care about. You are what makes me good, and without you, I am nothing but a wasted space and a no-good villain. You are everything good, and I am just a damned stain.”

I could see Bruce's heart shatter.

“No… no… don't say that. You are not a stain. You are brilliant, kind, and so much more than you give yourself credit for. I just wish you could see that. You are my partner, my friend, my... everything."

"But what if... what if I've done too much damage? What if I'm beyond redemption?"

"You're not beyond redemption, Edward," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of regret. "No one is. You're capable of so much more than you realize... and I'm sorry I couldn't show you that sooner."

I reached out a hand toward his face as the current pulled him away. From his broken expression, I knew he wasn’t just trying to hold on to me. He was holding on for me. My fingertips nearly brushed against his cold, wet skin before nature again beckoned him to its depths. As he was pulled under, I saw his eyeliner had stained my fingerprints. Was that all he would be? A faint memory? I held my breath until he bursted from the water with a heaving gasp.

I lowered my head to meet his eyes, and time stopped. With a newfound strength, Bruce craned his neck toward me, and my eyes lingered on his blue lips. He stretched a buff arm behind my neck to pull me closer. My vision was solely him, until I saw nothing at all.

It took me seconds to register, but murkiness and salt flooded and invaded my senses. For once, Bruce had left my mind. My only instinct was to survive. I hugged the door that spiraled beneath me, holding my breath and praying to the god I didn’t believe in. My body was getting tossed around in the wake and I wished I had my pool floaties. God, this beach episode sucked.

By some divine intervention, my burning eyes met the Gotham sky again. That wave seemed to be the worst of it. It was only then I thought of Bruce again. I looked below me to rejoice in our survival, but my heart wrenched as I saw only water and debris around me. The emo-shaped hole in my heart began to grow as I swept my surroundings, but to no avail.

He was gone.

No final words, no goodbye kiss, just gone, like his parents. He was an orphan, if you didn’t know.

It was a late chilly September evening. The chill was just right to where my now-soaking wool socks were perfect, and I didnt have to wish for my Batman love blanket, and my SpaceHey kitten drifted further away from me into a seemingly endless night…

And everyone clapped.