Before We Grow

Becoming Something Better

I sat on the carpeted steps of Wayne Manor. It had been two days since Bruce Wayne first brought me here, since he saved me from a dark path. They had yet to allow me out of the house again. Bruce says I need more training before I can even consider fighting. I thought I had plenty of training, but I didn't object. It was time for a break.
    Rest did not sit with me well. I slept roughly, and barely ate anything. Alfred Pennyworth, the butler at this manor, had tried his best to get me to eat. While Bruce was at work at Dick Grayson, also known as Robin, was at school, Alfred spent his time trying to get me to eat. Now was no different.
    "I made french toast, Miss Brimsey," Alfred came around the corner from the kitchen, "You must eat something."
    I glanced up at the old butler. He had to be in his late fifties, maybe even sixties. His head was nearly completely bald with only slight white hair on the sides. He always seemed to be wearing a perfect black suit.
    "Call me Lucy," I mumbled.
    Alfred smiled, "I think I would prefer Lucille."
    He handed me the plate of toast. I took it, knowing he only meant well. My stomach seemed to want something other than food. Maybe it was starved for justice, or for the rush of leaping off a building. I had been sitting still for far to long, even though it had only been two days.
    This all seemed to good to be true. Being taken in by Batman himself, who even promised to train me. This wasn't what I originally wanted, but it was so much more. This path would take me somewhere even better than the original plan.
    "Does he do this often?" I glanced up at the man, "Take in crazy orphans, I mean."
    Alfred smiled, "Only you and Master Dick, so far."
    I nodded. Alfred didn't leave, but I didn't want him too. After three, nearly four, months of being alone, I wanted to be with someone. These last two days of socialization had been like a vacation.
    "Master Bruce finds his own friends," Alfred continued, "He gravitates towards those he sees himself in."
    I stared at him for a moment. He stared back, waiting for something. It took a moment for me to realize he meant for me to eat. Hesitantly, I brought one of the toast slices to my lips. Alfred nodded happily before turning to return to the kitchen.
    "Alfred," I called.
    He spun around, "Yes, Miss Lucille."
    "Thank you."
    "Of course."
    He left. I returned to my toast, now the only source of nutrition I'd had in days. It tasted divine, by far the best thing I had ever tasted. I devoured it like a starving cat.
    "You act like you don't know what food is."
    Dick Grayson had come home from school. He was only a year and a half older than me, making him twelve. He leaned against the door frame, his Gotham Academy uniform just as pristine as it was this morning. His blue eyes held a sparkle in them, and his mouth kept twitching into a smile. He stared at me in amusement, with a tinge of cockiness.
    "This is the best toast ever," I said through a mouthful of food.
    Dick laughed, "Alfred is the best cook in the world."
    "I don't know, I went to France once and had some rockin crepes."
    "I've had all sorts of foods," Dick grinned, "None top Alfred."
    Taking another bite of the toast, I had to agree. Dick laughed again, moving to sit next to me. He dumped his backpack on the stair beneath him. When he sat, he also swiped one of the slices.
    "Hey!" I exclaimed, swatting his hand.
    The boy grinned, "Finders keepers."
    "It was on my plate."
    "And I found it."
    He took a large bite out of it, grinning as he did so. I rolled my eyes, making sure to keep a better guard over my food.
    "So," Dick started, "Bruce says you're a heathen."
    I snorted, "So did my last teacher."
    "But, he said you're a heathen in a good way."
    "Really?"
    "No," Dick smirked, "He calls everyone heathens, or something like that. You're good."
    I laughed. For a few minutes, Dick and I sat in silence. We chewed on toast and enjoyed the silence. For me, I enjoyed the company. Anyone, especially someone my age, keeping me company made me exceptionally happy.
    "My parents died too," Dick's voice was quiet, "Someone unscrewed the trapeze wires, and they fell before I could do anything."
    I glanced at him, "Superman dropped a building on my Mama and Papa."
    "I guess we're just a couple of crazy orphans," Dick laughed, "Sounds like a sitcom."
    "I can see it now 'Dick and Lucy-The Crazy Crime-Fighting Orphans."
    I spread my arms as if painting a rainbow. Dick cackled, "And all of our episodes have us beating villains with makeup over their mustaches!"
    "Perfect!"
    The two of us laughed together. It was the first time I had really and truly laughed since my parents died. It felt like a medicine combating a disease I've had for years. Nothing could last forever, however, as Bruce came home moments later.
    "Dick, suit up, trouble over at Arkham," he allowed Alfred to take his coat.
    Dick jumped up. I followed suit, carefully placing the half-empty plate on the nearby table, "Can I come?"
    "No, you're not ready yet."
    "It's been three days!" I exclaimed, "I can't sit here forever."
    Bruce glared down at me, "You won't go out until you're properly trained."
    "Then, train me! I'm ready, I've done it before!"
    I was beginning to wonder if Bruce honestly took me in to teach me. Maybe he brought me here in an effort to keep me off the streets, and would drop me off at the police station in the next few days.
    "You have two broken ribs, a broken nose, and a stitch in your thigh that could burst at any moment," Bruce said, "You got out, you die."
    I sneered, "How many times have you fought with a knife buried hilt deep in you? I can manage."
    "Not until you've had the proper training. You're a child, for what it's worth I wouldn't let Dick out in your condition."
    Dick glanced up at Bruce, but didn't argue. Alfred came up and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Master Bruce is right, it is best for your health if you stay here."
    "Fine," I sighed, "But don't expect me to sit still."
    Bruce turned towards the entrance to The Batcave, "As long as nothing gets broken."
    He vanished into the study. Dick was about to follow him, but stopped to glance at me, "I'll beat up a few extra bad guys for you."
    "Thanks, you're so kind."
    With a laugh, the boy vanished as well. I crossed my arms, doing my best not to wince. Alfred, however, noticed. Sighing, he said, "Master Bruce is not the best at 'connecting' with people, you'll have to forgive him. He does have your best interests in mind."
    "Sure he does."
    Alfred smile a little, "How about some ice cream?"
    "Do you have vanilla?"
    "And chocolate."
    I grinned. Alfred lead me to the kitchen where a Tv was softly playing the news. I sat on a stool at the island, a perfect dark oak wood with slick marble countertops. Alfred began to scoop the ice cream as the news changed.
    "In other news, Superman has once again saved Metropolis," the reporter said, "He recently rescued the superstar reporter Lois Lane from the hands of Lex Luthor, in the process disarming a bomb that could have driven Metropolis off the map. In celebration, the mayor has organized a ceremonial gala in Superman's honor."
    A picture of Superman flying across the skies appeared. He waved at the snapping cameras and shouting fans, but didn't stop for questioning. Alfred saw me sneering at the Tv, and quickly turned it off.
    "I do apologize," he said, "I always have it running, just in case."
    I shook my head, "Of all the people in the world, you are not the one who needs to apologize."
    Alfred simply looked at me for a moment. He finished scooping the ice cream and slid the bowl in front of me. Smiling, I dug in. The cold sweetness was satisfying.
    When I finished the ice cream, it was still early. The sun was just barely behind the horizon. I expected Bruce and Dick had just arrived at Arkham. They never work before the sun has vanished, at least mostly.
    "Alfred, can I asked you a question?"
    The man in question paused in doing the dishes, "Of course, Miss Lucille, ask away."
    "Do you think Bruce actually plans to train me, or just send me back to the foster system?"
    "Master Bruce wants to give you a chance," Alfred said, "Just like he gave Master Dick. I can assure you, Miss Lucille, he does not plan on ever giving you up to the foster system."
    My smile began to widen across my face. Alfred smiled as well before taking my bowl. I fell off the stool, "Can I go in the backyard? I want to practice."
    "Practice what?"
    "My gymnastic routine," I replied, "If I can't train with Bruce, at least I can do that."
    Alfred smiled, "Of course, Miss Lucille. Do be careful."
    "I will. Thanks, Alfred."
***
    I was standing in the middle of Metropolis. It was the exact same street where Mama and Papa died. In fact, I could see all three of us. The building was falling in ultra slow-motion. It would land on us in just one minute.
    "No!" I screamed, "Not again!"
    I saw Papa throw Mama down, and throw me on top of her. He did his best to shield us with his body, but it didn't help. As the building came closer, the last words my mother ever said reached my ears.
    "Close your eyes, my darling."
    I did, closing them and rubbing my fingers in them. When I opened them, the building had fallen. My parents and I were invisible, but the heroes standing on top of the rubble were not.
    Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, and Batgirl all stood on top of the rubble. They looked down at the building, dastardly grins spreading across their lips.
    "What are you doing? Why didn't you save them?!" I cried, running towards them.
    Two sets of arms grabbed my shoulder. Robin and Batgirl held either side of me, preventing me from attacking the superheroes. All eyes made it to me. Superman floated down to land next to me.
    "I didn't want to," Superman replied, "You know I could have, but I didn't. And you know why."
    Tears were streaming down my face, "They were good people! They never hurt anybody!"
    "You have no idea."
    The rest of the heroes came up behind him. They all stared at me, except Batman. His eyes were pointed to his left, as if he were waiting for something. I struggled against Batgirl and Robin.
    "My only regret," Superman came close to my face, "Is not killing you when I had the chance."
    I screamed, "You monster! I'll make you pay!"
    "You're just a child."
    He slapped me across the cheek, causing me to fly sideways. Oddly, I didn't feel it. I simply rolled onto my back. The sky was a brilliant blue, bluer than anything else in the world. It perfectly framed Superman as he hovered several feet above me.
    "I should have done this days ago."
    He started to plummet towards me like a meteor. I knew his plan, he wanted to squish me like he failed to do that day. I screamed with everything I could. All my agony, my pain, and my fear went into that scream. Just as he was about to hit-
    I woke up. I sat straight up in bed, nearly screaming as I did so. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Instead of my usual abandoned hotel scene, I was in a comfortable bed in an actual bedroom. It was twice as large as my bedroom back home, and three times as dark. The tree branches just outside the window made it seem as if monsters lurked in every corner.
    I was in Wayne Manor, where Bruce Wayne had taken me to train me. Right, I wasn't in danger. In fact, I was safer than I was back at the hotel.
    No matter where I went, I didn't feel safe. Superman could come and finish the job at any moment. Word could get back to him any day, telling him of my plan to take revenge. He might decide to cut me out of the picture before I even had a chance.
    I slowly moved from the bed. My t-shirt was soaked in sweat, as was the blankets around me. It felt wrong, sleeping in such a nice bed. It was like a silver platter, serving me up to Superman. I was just waiting to be killed by a red and blue meteor.
    My feet began to pace the floor as my breathing became heavier. It had never occurred to me that Superman might come after me. He might have done this all on purpose, and is upset that he didn't finish the job. If he got word that Batman took me in, I'd be as good as dead.
    I had to protect myself. Gathering a spare blanket from the closet and my pillow, I snuck into the hall.
    Wayne Manor was silent. Each and every hall and room was dark, except for the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Dick slept in the room right next to mine. His door was cracked open slightly, making his soft snores come out to the hall. I snuck past without him ever shifting.
    There was only one place I could think of that would keep me safe long enough to finish Superman before he finishes me. The Batcave was just below the manor with an entrance through a secret door in the downstairs study.
    I made my way through the manor. With every step I took, I became even more terrified. The wind seemed to mock my childlike fear.
    Sometimes, I forgot I was a child.
    I found my way to The Batcave. It was even darker than upstairs, except for the constantly running computer. Bats lurked in every corner, but they didn't bother me.
    This was the first time I had seen the Batcave without Bruce. When he brought me here, he took me through the secret entrance in the waterfall. I had only seen it as Alfred re-stitched my stitches. Since then, I hadn't been allowed in.
    I bet Bruce didn't trust me yet. That made sense, I'm not surely if I fully trusted him either. Whether he trusted me or not, he couldn't stop me from being down here, not when he didn't know. It's not like I was planning on ruining anything.
    The cave was spacious, much different than the tiny bedrooms and cramped closets I was used to. On one of the higher platforms, where Bruce had his and Robin's old costumes displayed, I found an empty metal chest. It had no lock, meaning I could close it without repercussions. I laid my blanket and pillows out. It made the perfect nest for a bird like me.
    Burrowing in, I closed the metal lid. It perfectly entombed me, like a casket. For a moment, I felt as if I had died with Mama and Papa and was buried. Oddly, that soothed me. Something about being closer to them, I suppose.
    In that cramped, stuffy, hard metal box, I had the best sleep I had in four months.