ANGELS WEEP || bruce wayne

the first

🦇

Reality is nothing but a dream.

Floating through the world around her Stacey recalled a saying her father once imposed upon her and the unlucky crowd around him, the people waiting for the inevitiable moment where the cops would break down the door and arrest the family.

He knelt at the altar where he was once a king and muttered those words; those words which would haunt Stacey's dreams for the rest of her life.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

He said it like it was a prayer, he said it with such surety that Stacey knew he was getting ready to die.

The next moment, they took him away.

Stacey was required to read The Tempest for her English Literature class final project. When she came across Prospero's line she felt like she was back in that church, watching her father say his goodbyes as they led him out. The spires crested above him, dripping with gothic spikes, while his hands were chained to one another and he was led away by the Gotham Police Department. He looked more tired than Stacey had ever seen him, his eyes heavy with dark circles. She yelled after him but her mother held her back, until she, too, was handcuffed and pushed out of the church. The rest of the family was arrested, one by one, until only the youngest remained. Her.

The pews were empty, the giant room now still and silent. Stacey could hear the wind whistling through the cracked windows, could hear the honking of horns from the streets below.

She turned eighteen while her family was convicted.

She graduated while they were being admitted into the Blackgate Penitentiary.

Stacey celebrated her admittance into both Gotham University and Metropolis University alone, her best friend appearing in her life less and less. And the streets were getting more and more dangerous; without her family and their name to protect her, she became an easy target.

"Miss Mar?"

She went by a shortened version of her last name now. She couldn't handle the looks of other people when she introduced herself, couldn't handle their contempt and disgust. Her family had shielded her from their dealings: she went to a private school and stayed away from the Iceberg on weekends. They were to initiate her when she turned eighteen. That was the only good thing about the Maroni drug bust: she wasn't required to stay at home any longer. Not that she wanted to.

"Sorry, Alfred. Is Bruce home? I wanted to talk to him."

Alfred looked down at her, his smile faltering.

"No- Alfred- please don't tell me no again. I'm deciding on colleges and I'm wondering what Bruce is going to do-"

"Master Bruce is resting currently. But I'll see if I can't wake him up for you, Miss Mar."

Stacey looked at Alfred imploringly. "Please don't tell him its me. You know what happened last time... I want to talk to him. I haven't seen him in months."

He looked towards the gate, as if checking that no one was watching. "Alright, Miss Mar. Wait at the table and I'll fetch him for you."

"Thank you," Stacey cracked a smile, the first one in months. The last time she smiled Bruce had been helping her with a math problem and found a mistake, and promptly questioned her as to why she thought the product of two and four was nine.

Stacey followed Alfred inside, recognizing the gothic architecture and dark interior decoration. As close in age as it was to the church, it never reminded her of it. It just looked like Bruce.