#also this is so horrid to do to my boy rip i'm sorry bruce
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susandsnell · 2 years ago
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48, Crane & Batman
48: Childhood
Before the toxin, he once struck fear with gunshots.
Watching Batman collapse to his knees after he’d combined both dizzied Crane with a euphoria he’d only felt once before. Like Proust, he was briefly transported; he was sixteen, swelling with boyish triumph watching the crows snack on the crone’s mass of exposed cranial tissue.
Under the cowl, Batman croaked in a child’s voice:
“Mom…”
The Scarecrow grinned; sutures split.
“Go on, Dark Knight,” he coaxed, hand gentle on square jaw. “Tell me about Mother.”
He’d long suspected the Batman, too, was a creature carved out of the agonies of childhood.
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