Platonic Yandere BatFamily x Child Reader

[I-III]

Act I- Scene III: "Loud by Day, Dead by Night"

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It was a miracle that no one in there noticed me, nor did the waitress who brought out my check. As the doors of the cafe closed behind me, I wasted no time in leaving the area. It was only now that I had realized that the sun had fully set beyond the horizon, bringing in the treacherous dangers the night had in store for me. Making sure that I would still be unrecognizable to any stray people passing by, I tightened the red scarf around my face and secured it just below my eyes.

This is going to become a real problem, isn't it...?
I guess the whole fact that this was happening was still sort of surreal, not that anyone could really blame me.
Within the span of five hours, I had been transported into the world of a comic book series I read when I was younger without any way of getting home, and now I'm on the run from the police to avoid getting thrown into an adoption agency after discovering the girl of the body I took over had a dead grandmother in her house.
Yeah, extremely unbelievable and a lot less remarkable. Now I'm stuck having to fend for myself with no shelter or real clue as to what I'm supposed to do, along with the possibility of dying and never actually getting back home. Truly, I wish I could say that I've "cherished my yesterdays."
It honestly seemed hopeless, or would've seemed a lot more hopeless, if not for the fact my mind could only think about what I'd do once I got home. Would I cry my eyes out, take a long bath, sleep, or maybe I'd make amends with all the regrets I had? Would anything really even change once I got home?
Maybe these questions of home were the only things really keeping me from breaking down at the moment, but it didn't mean anything. If this is what I have to do, I'll do it. No matter the cost, I'll find a way home—I just have to.

As the night stretched farther over the sky and the shadows got darker, the bright cast of the moon seemed to whisper towards me—or was it at me? The hushed alleys seemed longer than the streets and the lights illuminating the sidewalks appeared too dim to guide anyone. The night was still cold, colder than during the day. I clutched the leather straps of my bag tighter, hoping to ease my suspicions at the quiet roads. It almost didn't seem right. With how loud and obnoxious it was during the day, you'd think there'd be some noise at night? But there was nothing. Not even the far off distant sound of barking dogs could be heard in such a city.
This made me all the more paranoid. It obviously wasn't just me out here. If I never read those comics I wouldn't have thought so. Though, even with my dwindled knowledge of this place, I'm glad I still retained some of it. Otherwise I wouldn't have known about the many criminals that took up the dark spaces at night.
Although, technically, it's not just criminals either. Around this time, our main vigilante, Batman (cough, cough, Bruce Wayne), would be jumping around rooftops. Which means, if I want to avoid any possible contact with the police, I'm going to have to hide in the shadows as well. Just like the offenders in this forsaken city.

Oddly enough, the alleys were silent too. Aside from the occasional rodents scurrying, there was nothing. Seizing what little time I might have had, I prowled eagerly through the narrow paths, trying to look for a quick place to sleep for the night and in hopes I wouldn't get found. With the rats reminding me with every skimper to hurry along, I abated my already small list of choices down to the abode in shambles before me.
My mind was running on wariness and an anxious stomach, leaving me little time to think over my decision when I quickly huddled in. The place itself wasn't too bad, at least not as bad as the other places I had seen and seemed almost inhabitable. Almost...

If it weren't for the fact that most of the place had caved in (yet still somehow blocked out the sky), you might've even thought that someone lived here...long ago. The floorboards were splintered and cracked, showing their sharp edges to anyone that could potentially walk on them and the corners had piles of dust and debris just sitting there.
Like I said, not the most inhabitable place, but much better than the other options I had seen.
There was even a somewhat clean mattress sitting on the floor near one of the walls towards the back.
I turned my head over to the sink that was hanging downwards from the wall to my left. The pipes could be seen sticking out, but they didn't look to be busted or cracked.
Let's see how favorable my luck is—

Nothing.
Not even the smallest amount of buildup could be seen trying to escape from the faucet. Figures. I unfastened the hood from my head and relieved the scarf from my face, assuming that no one would be around to look at me anyway. Since the plumbing was a no-go, I decided to further test my circumstances with the electricity, although that too seemed like an unrealistic goal.
But from Genesis 1:3 in the King James Bible, God had said to his people, "Let there be light!" Or some underwhelming shit like that— but the dim lights were somehow operating and I couldn't be happier. The matter was such a small victory, but nonetheless, a much needed one. One that managed to boost my morale.

Finally, I can see— "The FUCK?!"
Maybe God was doing this out of spite for me using one of his most renowned catchphrases, but it was such a petty ass move. When the light registered to their brains, their actions halted to look at the cause for their disruption. The shimmering eyes of over a dozen New York City sized street rats had locked onto mine. Much like a stand-off in an old Western film production, neither party had moved. Not until a shrieking war cry was let out from one of the fattest rats in the far back of the room. They all scampered past me, almost knocking me flat on my back and out of the door that I came in from.
The rats had left, leaving me with disbelief and furrowed brows that bored the features of confusion into my face. 'I don't even want to know.'
I closed the door behind them, praying that they wouldn't come back after that and flopped onto the mattress, sending my bag to fly off my shoulders and onto the floor next to me.
It hadn't really occurred to me how tired I truly was until my back hit the springy cushion. It had been such a long day. Before I had thought to check and see if there were any cockroaches in the mattress, I fell asleep, too overwhelmed to stay awake.

Just as the previous morning, the streets were loud again. The many vehicle horns and fuming pedestrians could be heard through these thin walls, not really coming as a surprise. It amazed me though how different the night was here from the day. 'Like two sides of a coin.' I sat up, already feeling disgusted with how unsanitary it was in here. My body felt sticky from unnecessary sweat and dirt. I felt like those rats that ran out last night. I probably looked like it too. I balanced myself when I sat up and reached a hand up to my hair, feeling just how matted and greasy it was. 'Ew.' In only one night, I more than likely looked like your typical Gotham hobo. Penniless, homeless, futureless, and scrappy-looking. My hands tucked my fly-always back into place before reaching to grab the bag stationed next to the lumpy mattress. I sifted through, looking for the much appreciated bottle of perfume and tin of deodorant. It obviously doesn't come close to the sweet feeling of a hot shower, but it was the best I was going to get given the situation. The products went back faster from whence they came when I finished using them. I picked up my bag and quickly whipped it around my shoulder heading back out of the same shambled door, barely adhering to its hinges with the same hood and scarf disguise.

The weather was warm with a slightly cool breeze, not necessarily the type of weather for a winter jacket, but I kept it on to keep my features hidden. Gotham's citizens ambled around whether it be on two legs, a wheelchair, a bike, in a car, or on the seat of a bus. If these people were known for one thing, it was for consumerism. The people of Gotham were perfect for economic boost...and most business workers knew it. That's why there would always be something new being built up on purchased soil, why there were so many shops even if they already have more than enough, why there were so many advertisements and why Gotham was like the perfect little trading center. Or at least it was from what I remember reading and from what I observed. I continued my walk, keeping in mind the many landmarks and buildings I passed by to make sure I didn't lose sight of my new home. The heels of my shoes thudded on the beige pavement as the collar of the shoe dug into my ankle and armed me with a reddening welt. The doors of a nearby shop sprung open, revealing a shady man carrying what looks to be an expensive item, causing me to stop in my tracks when someone yelled at him from behind to return the stolen item. Obviously he didn't and continued to run past civilians until he was no longer seen nor heard as a string of curses left the store employee's mouth. Suppose I'll also have to be mindful of what stores I step into. I don't really want to get mugged.

I proceeded on my walk, still keeping everything in mind until an ornate little sign took my attention. It was a neatly wooden plaque with engraved words—most likely from a wood burning tool—and black spiral railings, holding it up above the door, which read "The Humble Study". It looked to be relatively smaller compared to most of the shops on the street it shared and had books being displayed in the glass case near the front of the store. Would it really hurt to take a look?

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