There are legends explaining why Gotham is so messed up; the kids wandering around the city would whisper them between giggles, in those small moments when they could be playful and not a child forced into maturity. Bonfires would burn, and the homeless would wonder if it was true; if something more powerful than everyone else would make them like this.
The polluted air, the purpleish sky. The dark clouds surrounding the city, blocking the sunlight; making the weather look as if it was going to rain, every day. Gotham wasn't lovable, it wasn't something that could change. It was filthy, and rotten, and anyone who thought otherwise was too contaminated by it's cursed streets.
It may be all those reasons and more that created the reaction of Gotham citizens when Rose Tremblay and her four year old daughter emigrated there. The woman was probably on her early twenties, and her soon to be landlord could still remember the prominent bruises all over her face. A round one, he would say, with chubby cheeks and soft features. Childlike.
Rose knew the city like a faded dream, like a haze; she never fell out of love with it, but she had to leave, to escape and relief had clouded her mind on the outside. It only took six years of freedom to bring her back, because no one could escape from it.
When stepping into Gotham, the woman's terror was overshadowed by a deep sense of survival; she was raised on the thought of leaving this city; but at the end, it was her only shelter.
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a cure i know, the batman fanfiction.
FanfictionIn which Bruce Wayne has to deal with an eleven year old girl appearing on his doorstep and calling him dad; and his PR Manager keeps bothering him about being more 'approachable'.
