▀▄▀▄▀▄ωɦαƭ เƒ...?▄▀▄▀▄▀

ωɦαƭ เƒ...รαɱɱყ ҡყℓε ωαร รαɱɱყ ɓℓα૮ҡωεℓℓ?

(t/w: murder, abuse, parental death)

Sammy Kyle was a thief turned vigilante adopted by Batman. They spent the first thirteen years of their life raised by their mother, Selina Kyle. The last eight of those years were spent as Catwoman's assistant, Mouse. 

At least, in your universe they were. In this one, they were the Musketeer's assistant.

-

Marlin sat in his dingy apartment, a cigarette between his lips. His breakup with Selina had been...rough, to say the least. He'd been moping around for the past three months.

He perked up when he heard a knock at the door. Was it Selina, coming to say she wanted him back?

He opened the door, and low and behold, there she stood.

"Marlin," she said softly. She had a bundle in her arms. He wondered if it was stolen property. "I need to talk to you."

Those words.

That was what she'd said when she'd broken Marlin's heart.

Selina took a breath. She held out the bundle in her arms. Unsure, Marlin took it.

Wrapped in a ratty gray blanket was a baby girl.

"Her name is Samantha,"  Selina told him.

Marlin looked into the child's sleeping face. "Is she...?"

Selina nodded. "She's yours, Marlin. You can take better care of her than I can. So can you...?" She closed her eyes. It killed her to give up her baby, but Marlin could give her a better life. He had money. A better home. Plus, he'd stopped his thieving.

Marlin looked down at his daughter, then back at his ex. He nodded. "I'll keep her. She'll be safe with me."

--

"Sam, run!"

Sammy threw a large diamond in their bag, looking up. Their father, the Musketeer, stood nearby, looking out the window of the jewelry store.

He sounded panicked. Sammy knew the Batman was near. If it was only the cops, Marlin wouldn't sound like he was about to piss himself.

The teen-- freshly turned thirteen, actually-- tied their bag shut and ran out the back. Marlin drew his sword, ready to buy time. If they weren't looking for it, no one could see the shake of his hands.

Sammy's feet pounded on the pavement as they fled the scene of their and their father's crime.

"Sammy, stop!" a GCPD officer yelled. While Marlin was called The Musketeer, Sammy got no super cool alias. They were just Sammy.

Instead of stopping, the teen ran faster. The officer pursued, obviously.

Soon, the man caught up to them. It wasn't hard. Sammy was scrawny and small. They had short legs. Within minutes, they were pinned to the wall.

The officer pressed his knee into their back. "Okay, kid. Hand over the merchandise," he said.

Sammy snorted. "No."

"I asked politely, Sammy," the man said. "I will wrestle it from your hands if I have to."

In response, the young thief stuck out their tongue.

The officer balled up his fist, as if about to hit them, when he froze. He fell to the ground, crimson blossoming from his sides. Marlin pulled his sword from the man's body and wiped it on his pants.