Batxan
folder
BtVS Crossovers › Misc - General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,366
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS Crossovers › Misc - General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,366
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
chapter 2
Disclaimer- Do not own, just move them about on my chessboard!!!
Their was a silence in the room, the kind of quiet that made breathing seem inappropriate. Alexander Harris was the only occupant in the glumly lit study, the first rays of morning still not touching the majestic stained glass windows. Only small droplets of morning dew coated them, making the room feel like a 1939 horror movie.
It made a glum mood pour over Dick Grayson, a emotion already seeming endless by the events of the day that would soon ensue. His feet shuffled into the room, grimacing at each echo he made. Xander didn’t seem to notice, his body still huddled into Bruce‘s favorite armchair. Reminding him of the child he once was, and still hid in the shadows of the haunted young man‘s mind. Xander still flinched when Bruce raised his voice, his face falling into a shadow of broken glass his life once was after each argument. “Xander.” His voice didn’t echo back, it didn’t even seem to make a sound to either of their ears.
Xander body seemed brittle, his fingers tracing the sharp grooves of the bat mask. It was perfectly clean, no staining of blood or scorched flesh lining the inner face plate. Somehow that made the horror of it more vivid, the fact that Giles had probably cleaned it off. The salt of his tears adding a extra cleaner, until only a pristine mask lay before him.
“Xander.” Grayson tried to keep his voice steady, watching his almost brother’s face. His expression was so familiar, a face of a shattered hope…a expression he saw every time he looked into the mirror after his family had died. He cursed two face in his mind, more of a routine rather then actual feeling at this moment.
Bruce had helped him through the pain, to accept what he had lost but how could he do that for Xander when his heart still throbbed with burning loss. Batman had not only been a hero, but a mentor, friend, and father to both of them. How could he fill those shoes? How could he possibly ask Xander to fight by his side when he wondered if the horrors of battle would break his own mind? Could he still be Nightwing? Could he replace the Bat? Could he even make it through this day without his heart stopping from the pain?
Xander remembered the first glance at the Bat, his first experience at true hope and longing to live past the next beating. He had been sent up to the store for cigarettes for his father, knowing that a empty hand meant another beating. Of course, at the age of eight no store clerk in their right mind would ever give him a pack. He had taken the long route home, hoping that his body would finally go numb for the next beating.
--
That’s when it happened, when he had saw the black swish of cape, then a warm smile that made the aches less painful. Batman stood over him, no criminal had come to destroy him, no deadly danger in sight just a thoughtful man who worried why a eight year old was on the street at ten thirty at night.
He hadn’t made up any stumbling lies, instead he just muttered that he needed to get home before his father got mad. Bruce hadn’t pried more then that, turning to allow the boy to walk past him, and follow close behind. No scolding words, no comforting speeches, only the echo of both of their footsteps off the alley walls the entire walk home.
Bruce had walked him all the way home, even helping him up the stairs when he had stumbled. “I hope your Mother is not too upset.” He had whispered, his face seeming gaunt under the mask.
“I doubt it.” He had whispered, knowing his Mother didn’t even know where they lived anymore. She had snuck out on Christmas eve two years ago, whispering for him to go back to bed before Santa came when he had caught her. Her arms full of clothes, and eye freshly blackened by his father’s fist earlier that night. It seemed strange, even now he couldn’t blame her for leaving…even though it made his life more miserable from that day on. His still had the scar on his back from his father’s belt buckle, after waking to find his Mother missing.
He had shuffled into his house, his eyes already averted to the deep brown carpet as he entered. He had not taken long enough, his Father was still watching TV with a fresh can of beer. It took him only seconds to see him, and growl where the hell were his cigarettes. Tears already burned in his eyes already, preparing his body for the pain of the first hit.
His father’s voice grew deeper with rage, as he stalked towards him. He whimpered that he couldn’t buy them, the clerk refused to sale them to him. The first hit fell on the side of his head, making his ear buzz for a moment as he fell the cheap coffee table beside him. He knew crying that he was sorry would fall on deaf ears, instead he just pulled himself into a ball.
He had never heard such a horrifying sound as his body’s hit the opposite wall, and gloved hand dug into the older man’s neck. Xander had looked up, seeing the Bat whispering into his Father’s ear, before walking back to him. He had scurried away but Batman had cooed for him to come, that he would not be hurt anymore.
--
“Xander.” Dick stared down at the young man, tears glazed across his deep brown eyes. He had not seen this expression since he had first met the young man, the panicked horror of wanting to run. The time he had found him huddle beneath his bed, face buried in his knees with tears flowing from his eyes.
--
He had woken to hear sobbing, and then finally found the source under his bed. “Why are you cry?” He had asked, knowing that Xander was there from Giles speech of hospitality earlier. The boy had looked up at him with such broken eyes, asking if Bruce would be terribly mad that he accidentally broke a glass.
He had went to find Bruce, feeling a helpless fright that he couldn’t put into words. Bruce had come stumbling down the hall, his face panicked after finding Xander missing from his room. “Have you…” A man who could stare down the toughest bad guy, looking pale and frightened from a missing boy.
He nodded towards his room, feeling hollowness in his chest. It had taken Bruce a couple of seconds to decipher his head movement before he pasted a frown on his face. He walked towards the with a meaningful stride, before he blurted out, “I’ve never seen anyone so scared.”
Bruce had froze at the door, his head dropping to rest on the frame before he mumbled to go find Giles before he started calling the morgue. He had shuffled away, turning the corner before hearing his mentor opening the door. He could hear Xander sobbing, and then a sound that he had never heard before…Bruce crying. A sound that made his stomach burn, and his body run to away scared panic.
--
“Xander, you had better get dressed.” He whispered, unsure if to hug him or not.
For the first time since him entering the room, Xander looked up at him. His hands turning white, clutching the Bat’s mask. “I watched him die Dick…I watched it all.”
Their was a silence in the room, the kind of quiet that made breathing seem inappropriate. Alexander Harris was the only occupant in the glumly lit study, the first rays of morning still not touching the majestic stained glass windows. Only small droplets of morning dew coated them, making the room feel like a 1939 horror movie.
It made a glum mood pour over Dick Grayson, a emotion already seeming endless by the events of the day that would soon ensue. His feet shuffled into the room, grimacing at each echo he made. Xander didn’t seem to notice, his body still huddled into Bruce‘s favorite armchair. Reminding him of the child he once was, and still hid in the shadows of the haunted young man‘s mind. Xander still flinched when Bruce raised his voice, his face falling into a shadow of broken glass his life once was after each argument. “Xander.” His voice didn’t echo back, it didn’t even seem to make a sound to either of their ears.
Xander body seemed brittle, his fingers tracing the sharp grooves of the bat mask. It was perfectly clean, no staining of blood or scorched flesh lining the inner face plate. Somehow that made the horror of it more vivid, the fact that Giles had probably cleaned it off. The salt of his tears adding a extra cleaner, until only a pristine mask lay before him.
“Xander.” Grayson tried to keep his voice steady, watching his almost brother’s face. His expression was so familiar, a face of a shattered hope…a expression he saw every time he looked into the mirror after his family had died. He cursed two face in his mind, more of a routine rather then actual feeling at this moment.
Bruce had helped him through the pain, to accept what he had lost but how could he do that for Xander when his heart still throbbed with burning loss. Batman had not only been a hero, but a mentor, friend, and father to both of them. How could he fill those shoes? How could he possibly ask Xander to fight by his side when he wondered if the horrors of battle would break his own mind? Could he still be Nightwing? Could he replace the Bat? Could he even make it through this day without his heart stopping from the pain?
Xander remembered the first glance at the Bat, his first experience at true hope and longing to live past the next beating. He had been sent up to the store for cigarettes for his father, knowing that a empty hand meant another beating. Of course, at the age of eight no store clerk in their right mind would ever give him a pack. He had taken the long route home, hoping that his body would finally go numb for the next beating.
--
That’s when it happened, when he had saw the black swish of cape, then a warm smile that made the aches less painful. Batman stood over him, no criminal had come to destroy him, no deadly danger in sight just a thoughtful man who worried why a eight year old was on the street at ten thirty at night.
He hadn’t made up any stumbling lies, instead he just muttered that he needed to get home before his father got mad. Bruce hadn’t pried more then that, turning to allow the boy to walk past him, and follow close behind. No scolding words, no comforting speeches, only the echo of both of their footsteps off the alley walls the entire walk home.
Bruce had walked him all the way home, even helping him up the stairs when he had stumbled. “I hope your Mother is not too upset.” He had whispered, his face seeming gaunt under the mask.
“I doubt it.” He had whispered, knowing his Mother didn’t even know where they lived anymore. She had snuck out on Christmas eve two years ago, whispering for him to go back to bed before Santa came when he had caught her. Her arms full of clothes, and eye freshly blackened by his father’s fist earlier that night. It seemed strange, even now he couldn’t blame her for leaving…even though it made his life more miserable from that day on. His still had the scar on his back from his father’s belt buckle, after waking to find his Mother missing.
He had shuffled into his house, his eyes already averted to the deep brown carpet as he entered. He had not taken long enough, his Father was still watching TV with a fresh can of beer. It took him only seconds to see him, and growl where the hell were his cigarettes. Tears already burned in his eyes already, preparing his body for the pain of the first hit.
His father’s voice grew deeper with rage, as he stalked towards him. He whimpered that he couldn’t buy them, the clerk refused to sale them to him. The first hit fell on the side of his head, making his ear buzz for a moment as he fell the cheap coffee table beside him. He knew crying that he was sorry would fall on deaf ears, instead he just pulled himself into a ball.
He had never heard such a horrifying sound as his body’s hit the opposite wall, and gloved hand dug into the older man’s neck. Xander had looked up, seeing the Bat whispering into his Father’s ear, before walking back to him. He had scurried away but Batman had cooed for him to come, that he would not be hurt anymore.
--
“Xander.” Dick stared down at the young man, tears glazed across his deep brown eyes. He had not seen this expression since he had first met the young man, the panicked horror of wanting to run. The time he had found him huddle beneath his bed, face buried in his knees with tears flowing from his eyes.
--
He had woken to hear sobbing, and then finally found the source under his bed. “Why are you cry?” He had asked, knowing that Xander was there from Giles speech of hospitality earlier. The boy had looked up at him with such broken eyes, asking if Bruce would be terribly mad that he accidentally broke a glass.
He had went to find Bruce, feeling a helpless fright that he couldn’t put into words. Bruce had come stumbling down the hall, his face panicked after finding Xander missing from his room. “Have you…” A man who could stare down the toughest bad guy, looking pale and frightened from a missing boy.
He nodded towards his room, feeling hollowness in his chest. It had taken Bruce a couple of seconds to decipher his head movement before he pasted a frown on his face. He walked towards the with a meaningful stride, before he blurted out, “I’ve never seen anyone so scared.”
Bruce had froze at the door, his head dropping to rest on the frame before he mumbled to go find Giles before he started calling the morgue. He had shuffled away, turning the corner before hearing his mentor opening the door. He could hear Xander sobbing, and then a sound that he had never heard before…Bruce crying. A sound that made his stomach burn, and his body run to away scared panic.
--
“Xander, you had better get dressed.” He whispered, unsure if to hug him or not.
For the first time since him entering the room, Xander looked up at him. His hands turning white, clutching the Bat’s mask. “I watched him die Dick…I watched it all.”