The dark of night || a Batman OC fanfic

1

Note from author - 2022
Before you start reading this story I'd like to preface that I have grown a lot as an author in the time since writing this. It's not to discredit the works of my past self, simply to set a point of reference that, this is the writing of a 13 year old with little to no life experience, so take that into account with your judging of it. Needless to say: enjoy at your own risk, and make sure your expectations leave you limboing in hell as you set sail on this journey.
- end of note from author

I was sitting in what my mother called an apartment, on one of the many computers I used to track my fathers every moves. I had a camera in the bat cave, around his home, everywhere he might go.

I've got to keep going, I need to make it to the top, I, I need. I stopped climbing. "I'm only five years old!" I yelled into the oblivion. I had scaled most of these mountains before, and I was only five. I looked into the snowy mountain range, and looked to my arm again. It was broken, because I fell, but my mother needed me to get to the top, and then back down. I looked at the snow and uncovered it to reveal my frost bitten hands.

I looked back down to my computer, I had been tracking, his tracking, of the Joker. Of course I already knew that he was planing to remove the entire bank from its foundations, but Batman didn't know. I pushed my long brown hair out of my eyes, and went to get my daggers, bow and arrows.

I grabbed onto another rock, pulling myself up another four feet. I sat to look at the view a moment and then back to my goal. It was a flag with two wings, a red band and the rest was black. Then I looked to the five guards I was meant to nock out and dispose of. I slid up the snowy surface, cursing my shoes for any amount of noise they may have made, anything could set those bozos off.

I got out of the place I called my home and jumped up the building, my hood and cape hiding me in my black pants and red shirt, my utility belt holding its position carefully. I quickly ran, jumping over the small crevices that dipped between the large, Gotham buildings. I sprinted until I came to the place that the Joker, and my biological father would be.

I crouched in anticipation, waiting for the dark night to make an appearance.

"Ahhh!" I heard a voice coming from the building encasing the Joker. In a flurry of red I notice that Roy was behind me.

"Go away, I'm trying to plan my entrance." I whispered to my friend. He was always there for me, even when my mother stopped caring for me.

"All you have to do is sneak in the vent that's on the other side of this box." He told me while tracing the cylinder holding my hand made arrows. I turned around and looked at the man who was my first friend. "Look, I've met the guy, he's not half bad." He said matter-of-factly. I looked down at the box, than back to his frowning face.

I had come down from the mountain holding my broken arm, and looking into the white of the snow covered rocky ground. I saw a white tent, and began to walk over to it. I opened the doors to see a table, a sewing needle, some scissors, and a note.

You need to take this and make yourself something with the flag.

Happy birthday.

This was how most birthdays went, me getting something for myself. Once I got to remake an iPad from scratch.

I hugged Roy. "Thank you." I told him, and he hugged back. Once he let go I waved goodbye and jumped, doing a backflip landing silently on the roof of the building. Once I was there I sprinted, not breaking a sweat running to the vent on the side of the green building that would lead me to inside.

I quickly pulled the cover off and slid down, landing on a bridge that had a few gaurds. Great, this guy is really cheap. I had been monitoring the Joker but I didn't know that he was this cheap. I quickly knocked out and disposed of the large bodied men and quietly trotted through the hallways until I heard grunts of fighting.

I got to work, snipping away at the flag, and pulling princes together until I was happy with the piece of clothing I had created. I slipped the initial hole over my head, pulling the shoulders over and using the small mirror provided to look at the finished product. It was a cape, the red streak now lined with purple, and two wings coming out of the shoulders. I went to the fabric door and opened it to see five more guards in a ready position.

I opened the door and jumped up, not be seen by my father. I looked at the scene in front of me. A brightly lit room, with my father in the centre fighting a horde of the Jokers minions, and the Joker himself starting the engines to his contraption at some kind of keyboard. I looked from my father, who was fighting his way to the Joker, who also had ten more minions coming in, to the Joker, who was laughing evilly to himself and revving the engines to the thing.

I easily fought off the special trained assassins, and was now walking back, cape over my shoulders. I saw the building I called sanctuary and began to run, jumping from rock to rock hopping along until I came to the door. I opened it to see my mother slowly clapping.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I may have been five turning six but I still knew what sarcasm was.

"Some people have made pants, shirts, hats, Even gloves! But this, this cape?!" She yelled, she corrected herself, knowing it was my birthday, and pushed a strand of her light brown hair away from her pale face. She turned her tall, slender body around and walked, pouting back to her dwelling.

I looked to the Joker, standing on the bridge that held between two of the walls.