Orchids are my favorite flowers. Ever since I was little my mother planted them and watered them and they were the first flowers I ever controlled. Head heavier than I ever remembered, my eyes force themselves open and there he is. My boyfriend lays on the hard, barely cushioned couch, asleep. There’s just nothing wrong with this picture, except the fact that I’m in the hospital bed, and all I can think of is the night we met.
College is fun, they said.
It’ll be a learning experience, they said.
Well, I don’t know about them, but this isn’t my idea of a fun college experience. All I want to do is curl into a little ball and cry in the corner. Of course, I can’t do that. I look down into my drink with a sigh. That’s when he drifts in. Black hair, green eyes, he’s taller than me. Just slightly. He nervously fidgets and I pat the stool next to me. The thumping music might be overwhelming for him. He looks to be like that.
In fact he holds a wooden stick, leaning against it casually and trying to look cool. I remember thinking it was interesting.
“What’s your name?” I call over the music.
He flinches and looks at me, “Gray… Grayson!” he exclaims, “My name is Grayson!”
I chuckle and he calms down. There’s a relaxing in his shoulders. His body is well built, maybe he’s another jock? I take a deep breath.
“I’m Pamela Isley.” I yell over the music. He smiles, and I notice the glimmer in his eyes, he’s not scanning me like a hungry wolf or a guy that wants to bed me. He seems kind and a little jumpy.
“My last name’s Kyle!” he yells back.
“Grayson Kyle?!” I echo.
“Yep! Hey, why don’t we step outside so I can hear you better?!” he calls as I get off the stool and we both head outside into the cold Seattle night. There’s a little buzz to my head but I can’t look away from him.
Something about him just interests me. Draws me in. The way he moves is fascinating. Smooth with barely a jolt or a wasted movement but it’s carefully picked out each time like he’s about to fall. His leather jacket over a white shirt, he’s not wearing jeans but cargo pants, also dark.
When we get outside, he stands next to me and I notice his stance is rigid. ‘An Army brat? ROTC?’ I think, ‘No. No, Pamela, just ask him about his deal.’ I huff softly and his eyes lock with mine.
‘Shit.’ I bite the inside of my cheek, “Uh… what’s your major?” I spit out.
“Psychology.” he states, his voice is soft and warm. Almost like my Dad’s home state. He smiles and that’s when it hits me hard. God, why did you make the weird ones handsome? I nod.
“Cool, I’m a Botany major. My mom did it so it carried down to me I guess.” I reason.
“Do you really want to do that?” he asks.
“Maybe? I don’t know.” I see him nod.
“Well, my family seems to have a history with the uh… criminally insane.” Grayson says, “My Dad was big in that scene.”
“Was he…”
“A psychologist? No. He was very different.” he says, “I actually want to try to help who he’s dealt with. Make it better.”
“You’re making it sound like he’s Batman.” I giggle at that, “You know. Criminally insane? Being very different? Stuff like that?”
Grayson smirks, “Hm. Reaching.” he says.
“I am NOT.” I huff.
“You are.”
“Nope.”
“Mmhm.”
He gently takes my drink and sets it on the railing. I barely noticed that we were on a balcony. Grayson’s eyes just show the humor in this all and I swat him gently on the shoulder.
“Still! I had a point, Mr. Dark!” I snap.
“Right, right.” he agrees.
I scoff and glance at him, “So, Kyle, right? Like Selina Kyle?”
“The one and only.” he states, still keeping his gaze brief. But he’s avoiding eye contact. Is he scared of me?
“Hey, you don’t need to be scared of me,” I see him flinch and turn towards me,
“Right, yeah.” he says, “Anyway… it was ah… nice meeting you, Pamela.” I go after him, grabbing his wrist.
“Wait.” I say, “Who are you really, Grayson?” I ask.
“Who am I?” he echoes, “Pamela, that’s a weird question.”
“Still, it’s not adding up.” I huff, “How are you this built? Crossfit? Martial Arts?”
He gets pensive, looking down, “Pamela, I can’t… I can’t tell you that.”
I move away from him and he follows me like a lost puppy. Of course I don’t even try to shake him. He’s harmless, just… he clings onto my arm. His eyes hurt as if he’s picking out glass from gashes.
“I’m…” he mutters, “I’m sorry, okay? It’s a family thing.”
I smile and take his hands, “Well, Mr. Dark… I wanna dance with you.” I start to sway, leading him on a dance, waltzing with him and making it close. I want to see how much I can get him to crack. He’s so cute, but his motions are smooth and clinical. Still careful though.
He whirls me, his face having a slight smirk to it. He’s a Jersey boy from the looks of him. Even if his voice sounds like back home. I lightly brush my hands against his face. Back against that solid chest, arms tenting me. Smooth, a little stubbly. Heat comes from my fingers as he looks down at me. He shifts a little backward, but he’s alright.
“E… Ey… Stop it.” he drawls in his accent.
“Haha… cute! You’re cute, Grayson.” I giggle, seeing his cheeks turn redder. We end up happily sitting against the wall, watching the stars and the moon, the party still going strong but I don’t give a fuck.
Grayson Kyle, the man of mystery, looks so innocent. I'm so happy. Just before while we were inside he was so jumpy. Now he’s happily holding onto me. All I want is to reveal a little more of him. I know I might be crazy to believe in something like this. We head out towards my apartment in a somewhat tipsy haze. On the way we kind of take a backroad. We aren’t driving, just walking. In the night I already knew that someone was tailing us. Judging by Grayson’s tensing I huddle closer.
Then, it moves. A man with a knife hurries over to us. With the blade gleaming in the light, I already get out my wallet but Grayson stands still, his eyes focused on the weapon.
“Gimme your cash.” the mugger says, “Don’t make this hard.” he points the knife towards Grayson and in seconds his staff lashes out and the knife goes flying away with the mugger being grabbed and slammed down. Grayson’s eyes wide and mouth set in a snarl.
“You scum…” he snarls, “You’re everywhere.”
I watch as he digs his nails into the man’s arm, “I’m giving you this one chance. Pick up your knife and go on your way.” he continues.
The mugger whines, “Okay! Okay, just lemme go!”
“Good. At least you’re reasonable.” he says, letting the man go and looking up at me. The first thing I do is start forward but Grayson shirks back, breathing fast. He’s hyperventilating. He looks so small now and vulnerable. His hands shake gently as he buries his fingers into his hair, moaning softly. Staff clattering to the sidewalk with a woody clunk.
“No… nonono… god…” he hisses, crumpling, “No…” I kneel and grab his staff and grab his shoulders. He looks more scared than I’ve ever seen him.
“Grayson. Look at me.” his mint green eyes fearfully jerk up to mine.
“Pam… I…” he mumbles, “No… you weren’t supposed to see that.”
I grab his face gently with my hands, “Shshshsh. Look at me. Breathe. In and out.” He slowly does. His fear going away. I smile and pat his cheek.
“See?” I ask, “It’s over, you’re okay. You saved me.”
“I… I did?” he warbles, I scooch over, and he doesn’t back away.
“Listen, Grayson. How about you stay over tonight?” I ask. He fidgets and looks down at the pavement.
“I… I can’t.” he says, “Not that I don’t want to. Just…” his shoulders hitch and my hands start getting wet, “I… I think I ruined it.” He’s crying and I sigh. All I want him to understand is that he’s okay. He’s okay and I’m okay and we’re alright together.
“Ruined what?” I wonder, “It’s not every day a guy slams a mugger for me.”
“How are you so…” he starts and I cut in.
“Casual about it? Please, my family goes through worse.” I stand up and offer my hand to him.
“Let’s go home, Grayson.”
That’s how I met my boyfriend for the first time. He took my hand and I pulled him along with me. Ever since, he’s been mine. Now he’s asleep on that hard couch, my body heavy and the silence almost deafening.
My heart still beats, I can still breathe, maybe it was just a fluke and I’ll be out of here? Grayson wakes up, his stick softly being pawed at and he rises, looking at me with a smile on his face. He’s glad I’m up at least.
“Hey, are you feeling okay?” he asks, moving to a chair near my bed, reaching out and grabbing my hand in his rough, calloused, and scarred one. In a way, I knew this was the end. The way his eyes seemed to not meet his expression. He knew. I knew. We were just waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for the slowdown and me leaving him for good. His grip is strong and I answer him.
“I feel fine.” Liar. Your chest is burning, everything is burning but you’re stable enough because your power’s doing all it can to keep it from killing you. You know you’re leaving him and you’re scared, aren’t you?
There’s nothing I can do.
The door opens and the doctor comes in, “Miss Isley? There’s a woman claiming to be your mother, do you want to-”
“Send her in.” I say, “Better late than never.” My boyfriend tenses, his eyes narrow a bit and he grips his stick hard.
“Babe, it’s okay.” I sigh.
“I know, it’s just… it’s been years since… well…”
“Right, right. Since you’ve met your girlfriend’s parents.” I laugh a little, dissolving into coughs as the door opens. Coming in is my mother, sharp green eyes pinning both of us down. Her red hair’s silvering a bit but she’s aged well.
“Pammy!” she yells, running to my side, “Oh honey, what happened?!” she’s shifting my face around, looking for things. Like she always did whenever my powers would flare up.
“Tch, Mom!” I whine, “S-stop being all mushy-gushy!”
“I’m just worried, after your boyfriend called me in a fit I rushed right over.” she sighs, “Just tell me what happened.”
“Mom, I’m probably fine.”
“Probably? What do you think, Grayson?” she looks at my boyfriend and he runs his hand through his messy black hair, eyes closing as he thunks his stick on the floor softly. I always notice when he’s trying to stall.
“Well, that’s ah…” I shoot a glare right at him, still trying to keep my body from showing more signs, “Confidential.”
“Uh huh…” Mom’s tone flattens, “How about we head outside and talk for a bit, huh?”
I grab her hand, “Mom, don’t bite his head off.”
“I won’t, Pamela.” she scoffs.
Ms. Isley leads me outside, her serious expression staring daggers into my soul as she stands in front of me. It’s been years and she’s aged well but… there’s still that underlying danger and I can’t help but reach for batarangs that aren’t even there.
“It’s been awhile, Miss Isley.”
She scowls, “Why is it always you?”
“What?”
She glares up at me, “Don’t you play innocent with me! You and your family always pop up whenever something goes wrong. Why didn’t you do anything?”
“I wasn’t sure, okay?” I huff, “Plus my father and I aren’t really on the best of terms, I wanted to put all of that behind me.” she laughs, high and mocking almost if not for the fucked up situation that crashed us into each other again.
“Right, right. This is just a cosmic accident that my daughter might die.”
“Miss Isley-”
“And it’s just a COINCIDENCE that it’s your fault, right?”
“Miss Isley, do you think I wanted this?!” I snap, “Pamela’s dying and I’m scared!”
“You? Scared?” she backs off, “Why?”
“Because she’s the love of my life, that’s why!” I snarl, “I don’t want to be Batman. I don’t want to go back, and now I might have to because nobody ever vets this shit!”
I grip my stick harder, almost wanting it to bend and snap under my grasp, “Do you have any idea what I did to run away from Gotham? I had to give up everything, and so did you!”
“Grayson…” she melts a little, “You-”
I shirk away from her, “I’m going back to Pamela’s room. If you want to stay, Diane. I suggest calming down.” I turn and head back towards her room, Pamela still lays there and she’s looking a little pale.
“Grayson?” Pamela mutters, “What’s it like?” the machine beeps away and at that moment my heart sinks into my gut. It’s time. I know it is, I grab her hand and clear my throat.
“It’s like falling asleep, Pamela.” taking a breath, I’m holding back tears, “Then it’s over, you don’t know anything or anyone anymore. It’s… like it’s all gone.”
She looks up at me, “I’m scared.” she admits, “Can you hold my hand?”
“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.” I take her hand, rough and calloused from her gardening but I squeeze it all the same. She looks at me with fear in her eyes.
“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” she whispers, “I… I don’t want to be alone.”
I lift her hand and kiss it, “I’ll be here, Pamela. I promise.” there’s a wheezing, bubbling cough. Flinching hard, the end’s coming. The heart monitor beeps away, and I close my eyes. I can’t help but pray.
Please… please, just… don’t take her. Don’t leave me alone. I want her to stay. I shut my eyes tight, banishing the thought of losing her but I know it’s coming. I can’t stop it. The beeps quicken, the coughs worsen. Diane and I are the only ones watching her.
I kiss her hand again, “Pamela…” I warble, tears running down my cheeks, “I love you.”
She wheezes, forces her hand up through the pain and then shutting down to touch my cheek.
“I love… you too…”
After that the days begin to blur. All I remember is the funeral and standing there. Numbly staring at Pamela’s casket. Just… pure numbness. Diane looks at me, fury in her dark green eyes as they bury Pamela. She grips my shoulder deceptively harder than she ever had before, her voice full of venom. She knows who I am, and who I’m going to be.
“Find whoever killed my baby, Grayson. Make sure they suffer.” she snarls, tears barely threatening to fall, “I don’t care what you have to do, just find him and make him suffer.”
Gotham changed in the seven years I was gone. Everything was glitzier, more glamorous. There’s nothing really different when I know where I’m going. My car was loaded up with stuff from my dorm. Everything all together. The lights, the new skylanes for the more cost effective models of car that don’t even need wheels anymore, the future of Gotham is built on top of the gothic, art deco past. The rain falls in near stinging droplets from all the pollution.
Smog hangs in the sky like a heavy blanket being pierced by needles of light that try to ward it all off. The old Gotham neon and the new Gotham LEDs joust for dominance as knights do. I pass like a shadow, ducking into the darker reaches, with the lights and all being bright and welcoming.
Standing in front of the old Tower, with its lights on, holding out their hands like they want to hold me tight and never let go. They have me now, and probably will never let go again.
A sudden departure, drop out, everything. There’s only one place the Wayne name is attached to other than the Manor… the old tower in Old Gotham thrusting out like a spear into the air. I pull into the parking underneath it. Long ago my father had everything. Money, power, fame…
But now, only a few dusty and disused remnants. I flick on a light and it buzzes back to life with the computers whirring and clicking to stand ready. Clearing away the age and the dust with my movements. Taking a cowl and armor already prepared for me as I fire up some music.
"Grayson? What are you doing up here?" Mom asks. She’s silver now, green eyes looking around at the old relics of Dad’s days here. Turning dials, tuning them to frequencies that they still use.
"Mom. He left these for me." I say, I look at the screen at the data dancing on the screen.
Mom walks up, her hands grabbing mine, kissing the back of them, "Honey, please. Don't do this. Don't start it again." she's got tears in her eyes, "It tore your father apart, you wouldn't last a second."
"Mom, listen. I'm tougher than I-"
"No, Grayson. You're not doing this. You're not becoming Batman and that's FINAL!" she snaps, digging her nails into my shoulders, "I can't lose you again, I can't... I won't go through that again."
"Mom, Dad's out of options. Jason wants nothing to do with this, Dick doesn't either! I'm the only one that can, I love you but I have to." I settle the old suit and cape back down to work on them as it all loads up.
"I had to watch you die, I had to watch my baby boy. My little baby. Die. Bloodied and crying because he didn't understand what happened or what he did. When you came back it was like that little boy was gone."
I close my eyes, "Mom, I'm old enough to-"
"Don't make this about age." she snaps, "Don't make this about maturity. You're my baby, and I don't want you anywhere near this. Turn it off, come back down, and move on."
"This isn't some duty, this isn't some solemn work, this will kill you. So many times over." she sighs, her green eyes filled with tears, "And I know, I know you're hurt and you're spiraling because this is back to back. But trust me, kitten..."
She presses a kiss to my forehead, "Pamela and your father would want you to move on." she dries my tears and gently grabs my hand, pulling me along behind her. But I let go, she stops and tries to grab it again but I still pull back.
“I’m sorry, Mom. But that’s just not how this works.”
She sighs, “Always so stubborn…” I work on the mask as she leaves, not before she says.
“I love you, Grayson.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I force out, looking at the picture of me and Pamela on the desk. The only piece of what was that I could look at. That’s when I see it, the bat against the sky.
I sequestered myself under the Tower. Gotham took her from me, Gotham took my life, Gotham took my family, it keeps taking. I slide on my gauntlets as the news plays.
"The crime wave plaguing Gotham has claimed another victim. As of right now the GCPD has no leads, but..." I make sure my armor is on right. Sweeping the cape into the clips on the shoulders.
"When's it gonna end, Perry?! Out of all the things that happen crime is always here!" I grab the cowl. "Vicki, are you insinuating-"
"I'm not insinuating! I'm telling whoever's out there who's not doing anything to stop it, whoever the Batman is, to come out and start wrecking shop!"
Hesitant. Slow. Careful.
But then I think back to Pamela, coughing up blood, holding onto my cheek and wheezing out... "I love you."
I slide it down and it clicks onto the neck, the mask sliding to cover my lower face. No more fear, no more cowardice, no more weakness. I look up at the mirror, the Batmobile looming behind casting a long shadow. There's no more fear in me.
No more people holding me back. It's just me and the night standing before me is... Limitless. I sweep my cape and walk to the edge of the balcony, holding the edges of my cape. When I hit the air, it’s exhilarating! My body slices through the air like nobody’s business, gliding easily.
I’ll be their protector, their defender, this should be easy.
Wheezing, panting, my entire body burns. Every inch of me resists against me. I'm not hurt, just tired. My sides ache, my legs wobble, my hands scrabble for something to grab onto. Dizzy, my center of gravity leaves and BAM. I'm on the pavement. Constantly balancing on a tightrope. That's what Dick always described it as. I screw my eyes shut.
"I'm Batman..." I snarl to myself, almost shaming my body for quitting on me. My mind's stronger, it always was. That's how I survived so long here. I grit my teeth and get up on one knee, my cape billowing around me as I rise.
"Keep going. Keep walking. One foot after another. Falling's a part of it." I remind myself, remembering the fire in my eyes. Remembering how I glared at the face of death, went under twice, faced so many fears.
I never blinked. Mom always believed I could do anything I could set my mind to. Dad did too. That's why he left Batman for me. The criminals are limitless. But I'll show them all. Gotham made me lose one life. I won't lose any more. I'm Batman. I'm Grayson Thomas Wayne. I'm the Prodigal Son of Gotham.
And I'll always get back up. It's a fight I can't afford to lose. I've come too far. All my life, I've seen this city eat people and spit them out broken and mangled, dead. But not me.
I live. Stand back up against the darkness and tell it, "What else do you got?!"
It answers with a fireball, force, sounds of yelling and catcalling ripping the drumming of the rain and something welling up from deep inside me. Anger. I see them, hounding down a woman around my age. A woman just trying to get home.
A woman just like her.
I move, cape sweeping my long shadow, aches and pains tearing away but my cat-like eyes focused on one goal. To save her. All over again. To never let another person down. To never let my body get in the way if I can help it.
I don't have time for theatrics so I snap into beating them. Foot to groin for the first extra hard, fist to nose for the second, tears and blood flood down and a soft feeling of enjoyment sings through my body.
It's electric, fuzzy, like a kiss or something like adrenaline.
A sharp sensation burns through the softer joinings of my body armor, the third slipped in a knife! Fuck! With a sharp click I slash my hand out, ripping the knife out of his hand and slicing his fingers to gouged lengths of flesh.
"Gawd fuck man!" he yowls, "That's m'good hand!" Southern accent. I grab his shirt.
"Out." I drop him and my mask retracts to show the bottom half of my face.
The woman, now that I have a good look at her, looks very familiar. Dark brown hair, dark eyes, the face on so many magazines but there's a sweet memory of being on top of the Old Wayne Tower, arms around her as she spreads hers. The kiss we shared. Gentle, new love. But I ended it so she wouldn't get swept up in my family's issues.
That cold October night. My fourteenth birthday. Page stands at the back of the alley, fear in her eyes but I sheath my claws and sweep aside. She carefully hurries by me, her eyes meeting mine but hurrying along with a panicked squeaking.
"Batman... I got saved by Batman! Way to go, Page!" she rants to herself. Heels clicking. I watch her grow smaller and smaller and my mask closes again.
I move on, melting back into the underworld of Gotham. Page struts through my mind, smiling and twirling with Pamela sitting just caring for her plants. Page spun me in a madcap dance that ended with me slamming right into my father and ricocheting into bed with Pamela.
They lie on either side, adoring me. But they're just in my mind. Just what could've been. My star studded bejeweled life with Page, or my quiet life as a psychologist studying the Arkham Effect with my Botanist wife Pamela discovering breakthroughs.
But here I am.
Alone.
Sinking deeper into the night, the dreams fading with flashes and the scent of orchids. I’ll make sure no one has to be lost again. No one. I’ll be the one to hold back the night. No one will ever feel unsafe again.
