A young boy, around the age of eight, chased a girl through a large, summer garden. The girl disappeared into a greenhouse, and the boy followed, before catching his breath in the doorway. His name is (Y/N) (L/N).
He entered the greenhouse, looking through the rows of plants for his friend.
"Rachel?" He called out. There was no reply.
He was grabbed from behind and pulled under the table by a ten-year-old girl. Rachel Dawes. She placed her hand over (Y/N)'s mouth as footsteps sounded outside, belonging to Rachel's mother, the housekeeper of (L/N) Manor.
"Rachel? Master (Y/N)?"
She walked past the greenhouse, not bothering to take a look inside.
Rachel took her hand off (Y/N)'s mouth.
"What are you doing?" He whispered.
"Kidnapping you. They'd pay a lot for precious (Y/N)." She smiled, revealing that she was just kidding.
(Y/N) playfully rushed out the door, Rachel rushing after him. He ended up near an old kitchen garden, crouching in the top of an old well that had long since been drained. He glanced at Rachel, who isn't far away.
"(Y/N), I can see you," Rachel said.
(Y/N) suppressed a giggle, but the boards he was crouching in gave way and he fell thirty feet to the bottom of the well.
Rachel heard this, and rushed to the well. "(Y/N)?" She called frantically. She peered over the edge to find (Y/N) lifting his head from the rocks and looking up.
Rachel sprinted full speed towards (L/N) Manor. "Mom! Mr. Alfred!"
(Y/N) groaned as he sat up. He heard squealing over to his right. He looked over, afraid. An opening between the rocks, seemingly going on forever.
Bats flew out from the gap, surrounding the young (Y/N). He screamed as they swarmed around him.
—-
(Y/N)'s eyes opened suddenly. He was older, much older than in the memory. He was in a jail in Bhutan, with his cellmate staring at him.
"A dream?" His cellmate asked.
"A nightmare."
"Worse than this place?"
—-
(Y/N) and his cellmate lined up for breakfast. Numerous guards watched the yard, some clutching rifles. A pack of prisoners had their eyes on (Y/N) as he approached the front of the breakfast line.
"They are going to fight you," His cellmate said.
"I fought them yesterday."
"They will fight you every day. Until they kill you."
(Y/N) held out his plate, watching gruel drop onto it. "Can't they kill me before breakfast?"
He turned to find a place to eat, but was blocked by a much larger prisoner, who was backed by six more.
"You are in hell, little man," the large prisoner said, punching (Y/N). "And I am the devil."
(Y/N) stood to his full height, dusting himself off. "You're not the devil. You're practice." The large prisoner swung at him again, but (Y/N) caught his punch and kicked his feet out from under him.
The six others rushed at him, all at once. (Y/N) was able to flip one into another, kicking as his arms were restrained by the others. He broke free, punching all the prisoners that came for him until few were still standing.
Gunshots sounded. Three guards came into the crowd, with one firing shots into the air as a warning. The other two grabbed (Y/N) and dragged him away from the prisoners.
"Solitary!" One of them yelled.
"Why?" (Y/N) asked.
"For protection."
"I don't need protection!"
"Protection for them."
(Y/N) was tossed into the dark, wet, solitary cell. The door was slammed. In the corner of the cell, a figure stood, watching (Y/N).
"I often wonder at the riches to be found in dark places," The person said,
"I thought the point of solitary confinement was the 'solitary' part," (Y/N) said.
"These men have mistaken you for a criminal, Mr. (L/N)."
(Y/N) glanced up at the mention of his name. The man stepped into the light, revealing his short, well cut beard and an elegant suit and tie.
"Who are you?" (Y/N) asked.
"My name is merely Ducard, but I speak for Ra's Al Ghul. Have you heard the name?"
"I've heard the legends. Master warrior, international mercenary, feared by all in the underworld. Some even swear he's immortal."
"Ra's Al Ghul uses theatricality and deception as powerful weapons." Ducard approached (Y/N), looking at his dirtied face. "You have not escaped his notice. A man like you is here by choice. Or because he is truly lost. Ra's Al Ghul and his League of Shadows offer a path to those that are capable of upholding our code."
"Code? Aren't you criminals?"
"A criminal is simply a man that someone else thinks should be put in jail. This world is run by tyrants and corrupt bureaucrats. Our code respects only the natural order of things. We're not bound by hypocrisy. Are you?"
Ducard walked over to the door, knocking. The door opens, and he turns to say a few last words to (Y/N).
"There is a rare flower. A blue doublebloomed poppy that grows on the Eastern slopes. Tomorrow you will be released. Pick one of the flowers. If you carry it to the top of the mountain, you may find what you are looking for."
"And what am I looking for?"
"Purpose."
The door slammed closed, leaving (Y/N) alone in the darkness.
—-
Exhausted, weeping, the young (Y/N) cowers in the well.
"(Y/N)?" His father's voice came from above.
He looked up to see his father, Thomas, being lowered down into the well, picking him up and carrying him back inside.
"Will we be needing an ambulance, Master (L/N)?" The (L/N)'s butler, Alfred, asked.
"We have everything I need to set the bone. I'll take him for X-rays later."
"Very good, sir," Alfred said as they passed Rachel and her mother.
Thomas carried (Y/N) inside, where his mother, Martha, rushed over.
"He'll be fine," Thomas assured her before speaking to (Y/N). "Took quite a fall, didn't we? And why do we fall, (Y/N)? So that we might better learn to pick ourselves up."
YOU ARE READING
Not A Hero (MCU x Reader x Dark Knight Trilogy)
Fanfiction"Because some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn." (Y/N) (L/N) watched his parents die when he was just a boy. Now, years later, he becomes...
