Save...you...(A Mama/Batman Crossover Fiction) DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

Save...you... (A Mama/Batman Crossover Fiction)

*This is a Mama/Batman crossover. You might not understand some things if you haven't seen Mama, but I will do my best to clear everything up. Mama was an amazing (yet creepy) movie and I highly reccomend seeing it. Annabelle and Lucas do not exist in my version, nor do Lilly or Victoria. They are replaced by Violet, my original character. If you have any questions feel free to message me! If you want me to continue, leave a comment saying so or I will not know if this is worth continuing! So, without further ado, here is the first chapter of 'Save...you...'*

Bruce sat, staring out at the manors extensive driveway, the rain thrumming against the window pane. His eyes lingered on the blurred gravestones that sat just beneath the window, and the newly turned patch of dirt where his empty casket had once been. He’d come back to Gotham against his prior resolve, his new life short lived. The only person less happy than him was Selina. As fate would have it, Bane survived the blast to his chest and had gone on a rampage upon discovering Thalia had been killed. Bruce’s conscious would not let the city bear the burden he created. He’d come back from the dead, helping reign Bane back in and lock him away in Arkham asylum. He’d made amends with Alfred also, despite their previous conflicts. It was a bitter, yet joyous moment. 

Now, Bruce sat, thinking of what he could possibly do next. Build the company back up? Fake another death? Hide away in his manor until the rumors of eight inch nails had come true?

He was broken from his thoughts when a muted shouting reached his ears. He pushed himself from the chair, striding from the study and making his way toward the sound. It was coming from the main staircase. The closer he came, the clearer the voice was heard.

“Master Bruce!? Bruce!?” Alfred shouted, sounding winded. Thinking the worse, Bruce sprinted the rest of the way, nearly colliding head first with the aging man as he whipped around the final corner. 

“What is it?” he asked, eyes flicking from one thing to another, looking for any sign of an intruder. 

“They found her!” Alfred shouted, the relief in his voice now unmistakable. Bruce’s eye brows furrowed in confusion, not knowing who Alfred was talking about.

“Who?” he asked, looking at the smiling man with a strange expression.

“I’ll explain on the way! Just grab your coat,” he said, before turning and hurriedly descending the stairs. Choosing not to question him, Bruce grabbed his nearest coat and slipped on a pair of sneakers, running down and meeting Alfred in the garage. 

“Where to?” he asked, sliding into the drivers seat, Alfred already in the passengers side. 

“The police station,” Alfred replied, wringing his hands as the car left the driveway and started speeding down the road. 

“Who did they find, Alfred?” Bruce inquired, a good ten minutes into the drive. His old friend sighed, looking out of the windshield with an unreadable expression. He seemed to be debating on what to tell, speaking only after having held a mini internal battle with himself.

“Your father...had a younger brother. A nice young man, but he had a horrible addiction to a numerous amount of illegal substances. They had a major fall out shortly after you were born, and all ties were cut between them,” Alfred said, taking a breath before continuing. “Your father made it clear that his brothers name nor his wife’s, was to be mentioned to you, or in the house at all. I respected his wishes-”.

“I have an uncle?” Bruce interjected, his hands tightening around the wheel. “An Aunt?”

“I’m afraid not, Master Bruce. Fifteen years ago, when you had disappeared for those seven years, I received the news,” Alfred breathed out, running a hand down his face. “Your uncle had murdered his wife and taken their daughter, Violet. She was two at the time. They were never found. Until recently”.

Bruce was silent, processing this information. His murdering uncle and cousin were alive? 

“They are both in custody?” He choked out, slowing the car as he neared the precinct. 

“...No. Your uncle wasn’t found, only Violet. She was living in a cabin, out in this ghastly forest in Colorado, a few miles from his home. A remote area. No running water, no heat, no proper food. It seemed she had been abandoned a long, long time ago,” Alfred answered, shuddering. 

“She couldn’t have survived out there on her own!” Bruce exclaimed, imagining a toddler trying to withstand the harsh western winters. 

“It’s still a mystery. They have reason to think someone was living in that house with her that was not her father, but it was simply illogical,” Alfred explained, unbuckling himself as Bruce pulled into a parking space. 

“How old is she now?” Bruce asked, hand on the door handle. 

“Seventeen,” Alfred said, proceeding to exit the car. Bruce followed on his heels, his head still reeling. 

“Is she alright?” he asked, picturing an emaciated, skeletal girl. 

“We’ll see, won’t we?” was all Alfred had to say in response.