Chapter one
Emma stared at the steel bars, which blocked her view. They had been her life for the past six months, ever since she stupidly made her way to find Batman’s hiding place. Now she lived in a box, or a cell in the middle of his dark cave. She slept on a small, uncomfortable bunk that took up 1/3 of the space. She didn´t have anything else. A man Alfred, the butler, came with food to her, and every few days she got new clothes. The ones she wore now were dirty, but they usually got that way. She knew the way to the Bat cave and as long as Gotham needed him, she wouldn´t get out. Tears began to prickle in her eyes as she remembered it. In the beginning she had begged him to let her out, but now she rarely spoke. Near her bed she kept a small pile of books, she´d probably read them three times each, and she rarely got new ones.
Emma encircled her knees and looked into the darkness were bats slept.
Footsteps came towards her, they sounded like the butlers. None of them said anything; he put the tray close enough to the bars so she could reach through them. They never brought any forks, because they could lead to her escape. She had gotten thinner over the last few months. She remembered why she even went to find Batman´s hiding place; regularly she was bullied at Gotham orphanage for Girls because of the few extra pounds she carried. She would be 17 soon, but didn´t remember which day it was.
Emma reached a hand through the bars and picket up one of the warm rolls.
“Which day is it?” She suddenly asked. Her voice damaged.
“The 27th of March.” Alfred answered, and sat down so he faced her.
He did that sometimes, sat with her for a few moments before she was left alone for hours in the dark. She had a few glowing sticks she could use if she got scared, or wanted to read, but she didn´t crack them that often. In the beginning she had, but figured soon out that the bats didn´t like it. She was perfectly fine with the dim light who already hung in the ceiling. The 27th of March. Emma counted the days, it was under two weeks to her birthday.
“Alfred, do you think I could come outside, just for a while, on my birthday.” She asked hesitantly. It was a long time since she asked for anything. Alfred didn´t answer for a long time, and when he did his answer weren´t satisfying.
“We´ll see.” And with that he left her alone. His footstep echoed in the cave, but soon they faded.
Emma leaned her head at the bars and cried out. “Please, just let me out! Let me out of here, please! I want out, please let me out…!” She sank down on the ground and before she passed out from exhaustion she whispered: “I haven’t done anything wrong…”
Emma woke up late in the afternoon, even though her watch stopped weeks ago, it was only a cheap Cartier copy from her passed away grandmother, her body could tell. Her limbs arched and her head felt soar. Soon she realized she wasn´t alone. There was Batman, dressed in the same black costume as ever. Her heartbeat rose, it was a long time since she´d seen him last.
“H-halo,” She tried, her voice echoing. It seemed she caught his attention. “Are you going out?”
“Yes.” He said, with no interest in any small talk.
“Please, can I come out?” She said, where she got her bravery from was a mystery.
“No, you have to stay in there.” He said.
“Please, just for a minute to stretch my legs. I haven´t walked in weeks.” It was true. Sometimes they would let her walk for around five minutes before she was locked inside again.
“No.” He said, and disappeared.
“Please? Come back! Come back! Please, let me out!” She yelled after him, her voice not used to speaking and weak. Defeated she sank down on the ground. He would never let her go, and she would never see the sun or the moon again. The orphanage wasn´t as bad now as what she meant she remembered it to be, not compared with being locked in a cage. No one would miss her, so what was the point in living? If she just simply gave up, maybe her body would just fade away without any pain. Her stomach rumbled weakly, but she ignored it, and lied down at the ground. It was cold, but soothing to her banging head and soon she fell asleep again.
Alfred came the next morning, and noticed her almost untouched tray. He put down the new one, and walked without words up with the old. Emma barely noticed, her body felt heavy and difficult to control.
It wasn´t before the third day Alfred expressed his concern. “Emma, there is food for you. You must be hungry.”
She moved a little, and coughed before she opened her eyes half open. “Hm?” She mumbled.
“There is food for you, and I brought a cup of tea. You should drink it while it´s warm.” He said.
“Thank you.” She mumbled, but didn´t move.
“If you eat something I´ll see if Master Wayne might consider letting you outside for a couple of hours.” He said.
Emma knew it wasn´t true, she would have believed it before because then she wanted to believe it. Now she knew better.
“Don´t worry about it Alfred. I´ll survive.” She said, and encircled her body. Chills ran down her spine, and she felt cold, but didn´t bother.
“Do you need anything; a new book perhaps, or a blanket?” Alfred didn´t often offer anything like that, but Emma wasn´t in the mood.
“No, I am fine.” She said, and felt her throat burn, together with her head.
“Very well.” He said, and disappeared. She didn´t even hear him leaving, just that it became silent. Her parents died when she was very young, and she lived at the orphanage 5 days a week and the rest at her grandmother´s, off course until she died last spring. She dreamed about how things would be if they were a real family, if she had people around her. It felt almost too real.
Emma blinked, she could barely move from the lack of energy. Sweat poured down her face, and she felt ill. Drops of water were poured into her mouth and pieces of flat bred were fed to her. It tasted good, until she remembered where she was, and the decision she´d made, and turned her head to the side. To her surprise it was Mr. Wayne who hovered above her when her eyes struggled to focus.
“Please, just kill me.” She said weakly. “I don´t want to continue like this anymore.” She said, and coughed again. The last thing she remembered was being picked up, and cradled in his arms, before the fever took over again.
