Chapter 41

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(4,476 WORDS!?!?!? Someone call the hospital cuz I think my brain is fried. Omg I was so excited for this chapter but I didn't anticipate how LONG it would be!!)

Grass grazing through small fingers, laughter filling the air. There's a small boy, who couldn't be older than the age of six. The small boy is playing with someone, a brother or friend. They run through the garden of the boys home, creating their own games to entertain themselves. A woman appears in the doorway, features soft and radiating motherhood. "####, dinners ready!"

The small boy smiles, waving to his...friend! That was his friend. He didn't have a brother. "Bye, Oliver!"  "See ya, ####!" They parted ways, the small boy running inside to get some of his mother's delicious cooking. The table was already set, and he took his usual seat at the end of the table. His father wasn't home yet. He couldn't remember why that was a good thing, he just knew he didn't like father that much. His mother sat next to him, both of them tucking into the spaghetti and meatballs in front of them. The small boy told every detail of his little game with Oliver, and his mother listened intently. A smile graced her lips, making the small boy feel welcomed to continue his little rant.

A bang, and the door slammed open. The small boy turned to face the door, and his body straightened. A man, a scary man, his father walked inside. The warmth on his mother's face faded, instead replaced with a strained smile. "Good afternoon, darling" She spoke, standing to hug him as a greeting. His father barely reciprocated, before sitting himself down at the table. "Hi, father" The small boy spoke, voice quiet and slightly on edge. 

His father didn't respond, only digging into his food at an almost impatient pace. Their meal was quiet, the small boy not taking his eyes away from his plate.

~~~

The small boy was now eight, feeling empty as the social worker drove him to the orphanage. His mother was dead. That man, his father, had killed her. Almost killed him, too, if a neighbour hadn't interrupted in time. It was a hard lesson to learn at the small age of eight, that the world was a cruel place. "They'll take good care of you here, ####. You have nothing to worry about" The woman spoke. He didn't like her. She was rude and had no compassion for what had happened to him. She spoke to him like he was an adult, and not a small, impressionable boy who was now terrified of those around him. All adults seemed to be evil. No adult was nice to him.

The car stopped, when they arrived at Gotham Orphanage. A man was waiting for him there, a man who looked too much like father. It made him snarl, refusing to get out of the car. They tried to wrestle him out, but he was stubborn. He had learned his lesson, he wasn't going to let the adults hurt him again.

~~~

He wasn't a small boy anymore, just a boy. He was ten, and still not sure about the orphanage. Most of the kids were mean to him, didn't like him or avoided him. The boy didn't mind too much. It was the adults that he had to worry about. 

They were awful. He hated every one of them. Mean, pieces of shit that took advantage of the power dynamic. Those with power abused it, and those without it were the abused. It was a lesson he had to learn, and one he stuck by. So he tried to get power where he could. Bribed the chefs with little things, got some of the kids on his side should he ever need it. It wasn't much. Due to his age, it was hard to find power around here.

Until he met Thomas Wayne.

He knew the guy funded the orphanage, but he had yet to meet him. Guy was the most powerful man of Gotham. Rich and hadn't had to worry about money a day in his life. It was just a normal day, when he woke up to scrambling. Kids yelling, asking for autographs. He left his room due to mere curiosity. But when he caught sight of the perfectly well dressed man, it was hard to mistake him for anyone else. The power radiated off of him, and the boy found himself walking forward. 

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