[Dark Month] - THREE
Title: THREE
Author: Xanthos Samurai
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse
Rating: PG-13
Length: 421 Words
Warnings: Spoilers for The Dark Knight
Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own anything but the arrangement of the words on the page.
Notes: I need to write more Batman fanfiction again.
~
Batman stumbled into the alley with his hands clutching his burning face. The smell of burning flesh - his own burning flesh - filled his awareness, drowning out everything else. The tumbler wasn’t far, but it could have been across the world for all the good it did him now. He leaned heavily against the brick wall of the building that lined the alleyway. His jaw ached from keeping his teeth clenched, but he didn’t dare relax for a second. If he did, he’d start screaming.
After minutes - hours? - he half-fell into the tumbler.
“Home,” he snarled to the navigation system. He fumbled at the autopilot button and managed to hit it and then collapsed.
It had been Harvey. He didn’t know how or from where, but it had been Harvey. Harvey, with his warped face and even more warped attitude, had gotten the drop on him in an abandoned and burned out building in the Narrows. Rolling around in the rubble, Harvey had managed to kick Batman away and into an old support, hard enough hear a sickening crack when cowl had connected with concrete and for Batman to sit dazed for a moment. Just a moment. But enough time for Harvey to seize an old metal rod that had been resting in a vagrant’s fire.
Pain had exploded in Bruce’s face when Harvey pressed the hot metal into his cheek and brought him screaming into consciousness. Harvey was already walking away, a skull’s grin on his deformed face.
“You’re branded now, Batman. Just like us.” Harvey had said, as calmly as though he were still Harvey Dent and not this grotesque parody of what had once been Harvey Dent.
And he had walked away.
Batman closed his eyes as the tumbler roared to life and started to drive itself back home. It would take the most inconspicuous, fastest route, as it was programmed to. He wasn’t worried about that. It took all his willpower not to touch the burning wound on his face. Best just to leave it alone - Alfred would know better than him how to treat it.
The wound itself didn’t bother him, except for the colossal amount of pain he was currently in. No, what made his guts clench in his stomach was the fact that there would be a scar - plain and unmistakable. Harvey had known what he was doing.
Now he was trapped. With his face marked like this, he was trapped. Trapped as Bruce Wayne or trapped as Batman. He could no longer be both.
Author: Xanthos Samurai
Fandom: Batman, Nolanverse
Rating: PG-13
Length: 421 Words
Warnings: Spoilers for The Dark Knight
Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own anything but the arrangement of the words on the page.
Notes: I need to write more Batman fanfiction again.
~
Batman stumbled into the alley with his hands clutching his burning face. The smell of burning flesh - his own burning flesh - filled his awareness, drowning out everything else. The tumbler wasn’t far, but it could have been across the world for all the good it did him now. He leaned heavily against the brick wall of the building that lined the alleyway. His jaw ached from keeping his teeth clenched, but he didn’t dare relax for a second. If he did, he’d start screaming.
After minutes - hours? - he half-fell into the tumbler.
“Home,” he snarled to the navigation system. He fumbled at the autopilot button and managed to hit it and then collapsed.
It had been Harvey. He didn’t know how or from where, but it had been Harvey. Harvey, with his warped face and even more warped attitude, had gotten the drop on him in an abandoned and burned out building in the Narrows. Rolling around in the rubble, Harvey had managed to kick Batman away and into an old support, hard enough hear a sickening crack when cowl had connected with concrete and for Batman to sit dazed for a moment. Just a moment. But enough time for Harvey to seize an old metal rod that had been resting in a vagrant’s fire.
Pain had exploded in Bruce’s face when Harvey pressed the hot metal into his cheek and brought him screaming into consciousness. Harvey was already walking away, a skull’s grin on his deformed face.
“You’re branded now, Batman. Just like us.” Harvey had said, as calmly as though he were still Harvey Dent and not this grotesque parody of what had once been Harvey Dent.
And he had walked away.
Batman closed his eyes as the tumbler roared to life and started to drive itself back home. It would take the most inconspicuous, fastest route, as it was programmed to. He wasn’t worried about that. It took all his willpower not to touch the burning wound on his face. Best just to leave it alone - Alfred would know better than him how to treat it.
The wound itself didn’t bother him, except for the colossal amount of pain he was currently in. No, what made his guts clench in his stomach was the fact that there would be a scar - plain and unmistakable. Harvey had known what he was doing.
Now he was trapped. With his face marked like this, he was trapped. Trapped as Bruce Wayne or trapped as Batman. He could no longer be both.