A/N: I am going to try and update quickly but that may not happen. Excuse my crappy updating skills.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Batman, it owns me. So does Kayne, because she is me.
Days passed in a bit of a blur. A schedule had been made and set in a loose stone. After the first few days of experimenting on what needs to be where, Bruce found out he couldn’t really leave Kayne side. It wasn’t Kayne’s choice although she didn’t complain. He normally only left to change clothes inside the bathroom, and to spit shower in the sink which Kayne found just a little disgusting. Kayne only asked once if he wanted to go home to shower to which he only replied with he had showered in worse conditions.
Along with the bathroom breaks, Bruce only left to bring food from the cafeteria in the morning before Kayne woke up. The doctors must have been born with an infinite amount of patience. The rules they bent for this family, not for the money but because of the degree of the patient’s injuries, was a considerable amount.
For one, Bruce wasn’t supposed to select what she ate let alone feed her but they let it slide.
So Bruce would wake up early in the morning on the couch that they moved into the room from the ICU waiting room. Then he would walk down stairs and buy breakfast for both him and Kayne, mostly Kayne though. After that he would walk upstairs and greet a now-awake Kayne. They would pour each other cereal from milk cartons, and poke at the supposed bacon. Bruce would force Kayne to eat at least something healthy, to which Kayne would argue fiercely over until Bruce just gave her the look.
Once Kayne would stop playing with the remnants of her food, around mid-morning, she would get her morning checkup. It would be the first thing her morning shift doctor would do. The male doctor would check Kayne heartbeat, and stitching. He would change her bandages on her hands which were healing nicely. He then would check one her fractured ribs which were also healing nicely.
After making sure she was ok he would bring in the physical therapy doctor. It would always start simple with the stretching and bending of her legs. They both would do simple exercises together. Kayne slowly began to like the lady that helped her with her leg. She never yelled, or raised her voice. She also never talked down to Kayne or gave her funny looks for her skin. If anything she never batted an eye at meeting Kayne, just a nice smile and reassurance the whole way.
Kayne actually felt bad that she threw a big enough tantrum that it took four doctors and Bruce to calm her down when they pulled the needles out for acupuncture. The doctor didn’t leave her.
Another rule was bent and Bruce was allowed to stay during the therapy, especially after introducing shock therapy.
After a while Kayne started getting slightly cranky just by being in the hospital. Bruce started to think somewhere; somehow Kayne was literally his daughter because she started acting like he did when he stayed in the hospital too long. She became sarcastic to any of the staff that didn’t attend to her daily or that she trust. She refused to eat if it wasn’t Bruce who brought her food. Basically she became a little child. That is why the schedule became what it was, not to keep Kayne regular but to keep the staff sane.
But of course, Kayne being his real daughter would be impossible however Bruce still liked to think about it.
After the therapy, lunch time would come and Bruce would go to the cafeteria again. He would phone Alfred every day while in line for food. They would chat and talk about some new big project that Bruce was thinking about green lighting. It was the reason why Alfred was away. Lucius needed his help and Bruce didn’t want to leave the hospital. He would finish chatting after he left the cafeteria and go back up to Kayne.
Then it was Kayne’s turn to talk with Bruce. Also sometimes Bruce could actually convince her to eat her vegetables and not just her hamburger and chips. She made glaring eye contact every time she took a bite of her raw broccoli and crunched on it.
Once she finished her food, the therapist lady would come back in and finished up the therapy by stretching with Kayne again. She would show Kayne how much progress she made before leaving. Kayne would keep flexing her foot sluggishly in awe, as Bruce would silently watch with pride.
They would chat again and six o’clock would roll around. Alfred would show up with homemade dinner that the hospital obviously had to agree upon.
They had to maintain some sort of control over this. So Alfred made only food that the doctors told him Kayne could safely eat.
Laughter was exchanged along with questions of progress. Kayne would show him how much progress she was making and he would clap at how proud he was.
Then the time came for that one rule they tried keeping intact. Visiting hours ended and Alfred had to leave to go back to the Manor or Wayne Enterprise to talk the Mr. Fox.
Bruce was the only exception to that rule considering Kayne nearly put a doctor into a coma accidently during her needle tantrum. At least, she claims it was an accident. She obviously didn’t mean to nearly choke them to death. Bruce just gave her a look and she just giggled and kept quiet. They would bath her but only one doctor was allowed to touch her, Doctor House. Doctor House became Kayne’s official night doctor and carried out the sponge baths.
Days turned into a week and that week turned into two weeks and then suddenly a month and a half passed before the schedule was disrupted. It happened during dinner as Bruce left the cafeteria and headed up to the ICU. It was mid-December. Alfred hadn’t been able to visit that day because some large meeting with the board of the Enterprise.
Bruce some how balances two plates of burgers, packages of fries, vegetables, and water bottles in his arms. He exits the elevator and strides past the desk where Doctor House was putting away her purse with a Dr. Pepper in hand.
“Bruce, Bruce, Bruce, Bruce…” House calls over and over, until he turns to look at her. “Yes Doctor, Do you need something?” He asks reluctantly, turning to her with raised eyebrows. She cracks open her soda, and replies, “The police are here for you.” She points behind her to reveal Commissioner Gordon.
Bruce looks at him with understanding. “Commissioner, it’s been awhile. What can I do for you?” He greets, placing the food on the counter, to reach his hand out to shake an approaching Commissioner’s hand. He grasps Gordon’s hand firmly in a hand shake. “Good to see you Wayne. I actually didn’t come for you but in fact your daughter.” Gordon returns the greeting.
“Why?” Bruce questions but seems to already know the answer. Gordon seems to sense it too. “I think you know why. I have been able to hold police reports off for a month but nobody has said anything about the robbery. They refused to say anything all together as if something holy happened in that mansion.” Gordon replies, shrugging his shoulders.
“Alright Commish, come on. She’s been dying for some visitors today other then me. Alfred couldn’t make it today.” Bruce answers, grabbing the plates of food. Doctor House grabs the two water bottles, and comes around the corner to open the door.
“Thanks Doc.” Bruce thanks as he shuffles in the door.
Kayne was out of bed shuffling around the room with her knee bending exaggerated. She turns and smiles at the open door. “Hey! Oh, hey.” Kayne greet excitedly then less enthusiastically when she sees more people.
“Be nice and you won’t have to eat your vegetables.” Bruce bargains quietly as he pats her hip while hugging her. She nods and takes her plate from him. She sets it on her bed before sitting on the edge of it.
“Did you drop the guard rail?” House asks in disbelief appearing in the room. She goes around to the side of the bed where Kayne is sitting. “Did you take your IV out?” She demands putting the water bottles on the bed to inspect the dangling line with the sterile needle on the end.
“No…” Kayne denies meekly through a bite of hamburger. Bruce shoots her a stern look. “Yes…” She amends, swallowing the food.
“Kayne Wayne what have I told you about removing your IVs and getting out of bed?!” House scolds, snapping her fingers and gesturing for Kayne’s arm.
“To not to.” Kayne mutters, reluctantly out stretches her arm where a small patch of tape hung from her inner elbow. Doctor pulls out a new IV from her coat pocket and prepares Kayne’s arm for the second time that day. They are trying to pack on the pounds on Kayne’s frail body and so far it was working. You couldn’t count her ribs just by glancing at her shirt anymore. In fact she was starting to get rounded cheeks.
Commissioner Gordon steps around Bruce to greet Kayne but she beats him to it. “Hello Gordon, long time no see.” she greets with a salute from the other hand.
“Kayne No Name, I am kind of glad I haven’t seen you for about four months. Our meetings always end with handcuffs.” Gordon replies nodding his greeting.
“From my perspective, they always started with handcuffs. Also I got a name change, it is now Kayne Wayne. I love the rhyme, don’t you?” Kayne answers snidely, pulling her arm back from the doctor as she finished inserting the needle.
“You both have met before?” Bruce asks curious. “On several occasions, but you knew that Bruce. Now pull up a seat Gordon, you would never visit me voluntarily. What do you need?” Kayne questions, tucking her legs underneath herself.
“No more leg stretches, you need to eat. I’ll be outside if you need me.” Doctor scolds before leaving, knowing she shouldn’t be in the room for this. She closes the door behind her quietly.
Gordon pulls up a seat, and Bruce sits on the bottom of her bed.
“The records some how disappeared of everything that had anything to do with you and nobody noticed until just recently. The only copies left are the hard prints that happened after the police department burnt down two years ago. Do you have anything to say about that?” Gordon comments, crossing his legs.
“That you guys need to protect your records just a little better.” Kayne replies, holding up her thumb and index finger in the tiny gesture.
Gordon didn’t look convinced. “All the records were deleted. So now we need to get them re-done and have a full mock up on what happened on Halloween night with Joker’s new lady.” He points out, leaning back in his chair. “It’s going to be a long night because we are going to touch all the bases. So in hopes to not revisit past traumatic events to harshly I brought this to occupy some part of your genius mind.” He offers, pulling out of big bag of chips.
A faint smile appears on her lips. “Thanks Commissioner, you were always the better cop in the unit.” She compliments, handing the bag to Bruce so he could open it for her.
He pops it open and places it in her palms. Kayne stretches out her legs, placing them in Bruce’s lap. Bruce moves her left leg for her since she seems to have been struggling. “Thanks. You boys might want to get comfortable. My childhood is a boring story.” She comments, leaning back onto her pillows but her body remained stiff.
Gordon pulls out a tape recorder and places it on the nightstand. “Just start from after the drug bust, at your first foster parents. Take your time.” He instructs soothingly before hitting the record button.
“Well, I was first adopted by Regina and Jim Gardner almost as soon as a foster care system was put together, what, about eleven years ago? I was just four years old and the foster care system was a poor attempt to change Gotham from what it was becoming.” She starts off before continuing. Her eyes were already lost, staring at the ceiling while deep in thought.
“My foster parents were so young but so nice. They must have been about 22-23, who knows? They are probably either living the high life or in Blackgate right now. They took me home and brought me to a beautiful one story. I had my own room and clothes. They gave me food and taught me how to read, write, and start the works of this genius’ education basically. The one thing I loved about their ‘love’-” She quotes the word softly with her fingers.
“-was that they always made room for toys. No matter if they didn’t work the best jobs for the time, they always remember toys. They were always stuffed animals and they all had special names. But they all kept getting sick, or so my parents told me. We would travel all around Gotham, and sometimes even Metropolis just to take them to special doctors. My parents would leave the car idling with me in it to go into whatever doctor’s house with my toys. They would come back with a whole new set of toys just for me.
I knew what they were doing of course. The toys were stuffed full of powder package, drugs. I didn’t necessarily bother me. I mean, if my parents sold it around then it must have been alright. It wasn’t harming anybody and they never touched my favorite toy which was free of drugs so I let it happen.
Oh god, I was the happiest kid ever. I had parents, a sense of knowledge, toys, food, and a home. What more could a kid ask for? We would go on vacation, and celebrate Christmas. It was amazing.
But then, getting closer to the third year mark of me arriving, things changed. Whispers and glances were exchanged between my parents. Sneak peeks of behind the window curtains. Hands were always on my mother’s stomach. She was pregnant and the mob found out. I am smart. I knew what that meant for the baby. They were going to use it to smuggle and then kill it just so they could smuggle more through the corpse of that poor baby.
I didn’t know who to turn to. I had started preschool by this time so I did what most toddlers would do. Tell a teacher. She seemed to agree and act the part of a concerned teacher. Little did poor me know that she was a druggie my parents supplied. She told the others. My parents had to get rid of me before I could spill their secret again. So they sent me back to the foster home claiming I was a terrible child, a liar and a thief that never listened. The foster system was so poorly put together that all the girls and boys were put together in one little orphanage, but it didn’t last long. I was shipped out in less than a month to a new home.” She concludes, turning her head away in an attempt to hide her face.
She twists the cap of her water bottle open and gulps down half of it. “Do I have to talk about the next house?” She whispers, knowing the answer already.
“I am afraid so Kayne. You in yourself are something to be documented. You have sent almost all your foster families to jail and about half of Gotham’s Social Service. You made the foster service today have a better security system and managers behind them.” Gordon consoles, urging her to continue on.
Kayne bites her lips and continues on. “My second house was empty, bare. The woman dropped me off and left without even checking to see if anybody was home. I ended breaking in through a window. Balloons and confetti greeted me as soon as I broke into the house. Presents were laid out on the floor that was stripped bare. They were numbered 1 through 16. I grabbed number 13 first.
Once again I was rewarded with confetti shooting me in the face. Inside was a note, congratulating me for not going with the patterns, and for taking a new direction. Underneath it all was a switchblade. When I opened the other it was a game, if I started opening them in order I would get a shock to the hand. If I opened it out of order I got confetti. In each box was a weapon of some sort, all usually a blade, accompanied with a book.” Kayne explained, eyes glazing over. She scratched her hand unconsciously, remembering the shocks.
“What were the books about?” Gordon asks, trying to get her attention.
“They were books about self defense, survival techniques, hunting and skinning animals, and hand written books. I guess you can consider them handwritten. They were typed in hand bound books. Those books usually talked about fairness, tainting of the human mind, and the established order. They talked about the sheep and the Shepard. How humanity so easily moved to be the sheep.
Slowly I learned what this person wanted, what I had to do. I learned how to steal to not starve to death. How to fight not to be raped, mugged, kidnapped, or killed in the Narrows is what little seven year old me had to learn. Every holiday, no matter how insignificant, I got presents like these. I slowly gained a collection of knives, and sooner or later guns. I gained a huge book collection all about philosophy, math, and engineering. Genius was a word you could use for me. So was monster.
Social Services, who might I remind you was suppose to be checking on me monthly, finally stopped to check on me a year later on my birthday. I had gotten more presents then ever before, and they were deadlier. The woman walked in saw me in the middle of the floor wielding a Kate, which is a sniper rifle most of your SWAT team would own. She went berserk and yanked me out of the house in less than 20 seconds.
Nothing was packed and as far as I am concerned, those items are still in that house with that sniper rifle still on the ground. I was put back in another orphanage and in less then a week I was shipped off to hell.” Kayne once again concludes, her fingers were clenched and the chips were long forgotten. She curls in her legs sluggishly away from Bruce.
Silence before a sob retches from her throat in a beg, “Please I don’t want to talk about this one. You know what happened!”
Gordon sighs, shaking his head. “I am sorry Kayne but your confession is the only thing keeping them in Blackgate.”
“Can I just list what they did to me and get it over with?” Kayne pleads, turning to stare at Gordon before wrapping her arms around her legs as she pulled them closer.
Gordon nods, assuring her to get it over with.
“Dr. Rick Jones and his wife Jordan-” Kayne spits out, hatred filling her eyes with ferocity.
“They… oh, urhm.” She blabbers, shaking her head in pain. “I can’t. I just can’t Commissioner.”
“Come on, real quickly and it’s all over. They are gone and locked up to rot in a jail for what they did Kayne. They have no chance of parole, and they will never see light again. You need to confess it all to keep it that way,” Gordon soothes, not sure what to do. He hated doing this. Something like this should never be repeated, especially from a kid’s mouth.
Bruce moves over to Kayne slowly, wrapping her in his arms. “I am right here Kayne, and whatever it is I will protect you from it ever happening again. Just say it clear enough for Gordon and it will be done. We will never talk about it again, unless you want to.” Bruce murmurs in her ear, rocking her back and forth.
“Never ever again.” She shutters, pulling herself into a tighter ball.
Slowly she starts whispering things, awful things. It made Bruce want to throw up at her first words, the feeling just worsened as she kept rambling on.
“The first thing they did was tie me to a bed and carve their names into my stomach, legs, arms, and back. They then burnt the wounds with a hot wax candle to cauterize the wounds.” She says only loud enough for the record to hear. A humorless laugh left her throat. “They didn’t want me bleeding out before they got to play with me.”
“They beat me, whipped me, shot me, raped me, tortured me, carved things into my body, starved me, and submitted me to extreme therapy all for science. They shot chemicals into my body. Squirted things into my mouth and eyes to enhance me. They made me immune to most poisons either by starving me to make me so hungry to eat the poison soaked bread or they force fed me everything by holding open my mouth with-…” She whimpered unable to carry on through her crying. No, sobbing.
“They forced me to run on a treadmill for days at a time. The beeping of my heart rate was the only communication I got. I was forced to kill other things. Human things or animal things, it never mattered. It was survival of the fittest.
My prizes and rewards for being such a good girl were food and the chance to wear clothes for a day. I was a lab rat. An animal. A test subject. Nothing more and definitely everything less. Everyday strapped to an icy cold steel slab to be probed, and pushed to its limits. This went on for 4 years, and nobody noticed.
In fact, nobody stopped by to say hello or check on me. I dropped off the face of the earth. They only thing human I got was a small bedroom. It was never human in my mind though, nothing was. The things that happened in there. Thanks to them I can never think normally, nor will I ever be able to do any medical procedure to help me. We got lucky with the knife, and the operation. Because of them I can never have children. They definitely made sure of that.” She ends, tears rolling down her cheeks as her hand clutch on Bruce painfully tight. Her hands were pearl white just like her face. All the color left her face and disappeared.
Bruce had no words. Nothing. No thoughts. Only one action. Comfort this poor girl who was never noticed until now.
Commissioner reached up and pauses the tape. “You can take a breather. We have your testimony for your past foster mom’s case. Whenever you want we can start the questioning for that night.” He reassures, handing her a handkerchief. He steps out of the room, nodding at Bruce.
It took all her strength to wait for the Commissioner to leave the room before she outright sobbed, and screamed. “It hurt Bruce. It hurt so much.” She howls, tears pouring down her face as she shook. “Why was it me? Why?” She begs, pushing her face into Bruce’s neck as he pulled her into his lap.
He rocked back and forth, humming a bit. “I know it did Kayne. I know it hurt, but it’s over. I am here now, and I will end anybody who even thinks about hurting.” He mumbled in her ear, and other whimsical things to help her calm down. Eventually, she did but he let her cry. She needed to let it all out.
“Tell me about your other mother. You don’t have to tell me how it ends, just to tell if she made you happy.” Bruce whispers, rubbing her bare back where the gap in the hospital gown was, as she hiccupped. She nods furiously. “Yeah, she did make me happy. She was the most human person I knew.” She replies hesitantly.
‘Was’, Bruce thinks solemnly. She’s dead. “Did she live in Gotham?” Bruce asks his face in her hair as he brushes it out with his fingers. “No, Metropolis. She was a single mom that worked at LexCorp.” Kayne whispers, leaning into his massaging touch as he combed her hair with his fingers.
She sniffles, and wipes her face with the handkerchief. “She loved me, and with her I finally learnt what love is. I learned how to treat people. I learned that books were whole new worlds. I took dance classes, but damn for being so quick on my toes, I was clumsy. I kept tripping everywhere. I learned to just let it flow. Just let it go. All because of this woman.” Kayne reminisces; placing her head on Bruce’s chest.
“Then she was murdered, and it was a staged suicide. Nobody believes me, and for a brief time they thought I assisted in the suicide. I was only 14. After that I ran into Gotham’s underbelly. I took up all the weapons I wanted at the old abandoned house of the second house and decked it. No way in hell I was going back to that foster system. I hid at Ariel’s and served with her for a year. One day, I got arrested. They ID me and just like that I was back in the system, on my way to you.” She finished, leaning away from Bruce because she was getting warm.
Commissioner came back in later to collect her next interrogation. He takes out the last tape and replaces it with a new tape.
“First things first, did you order that specific cratering company?” Gordon questions, raising an eyebrow.
“No, we ordered the one with the chainsaw murdering tendencies but insane clown robbers were all they had. What the hell do you think?” Kayne snaps, running a hand in her hair before eating from the bag of chips in her hands. Bruce had taken a seat on a stool they had brought in for Kayne to sit on during her baths.
“It’s procedure Kayne. A little less sarcasm will do thank you.” Gordon asks, but made it an order. One Kayne wouldn’t dare listen to.
“What time did this all start?” He continues, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“I am guessing the robbery started around nine but the crimes probably happened around seven. The staff was all dead for at least an hour.” Kayne replies thoughtfully.
“Did you get any thing warning you about this ahead of time? Anything suspicious at all?” He inquires, looking between the two.
“Yeah, we got a giant ass sign saying we are going to kill your serving staff and rob you. Gordon, we would have called it in!” Kayne lies, staring him down.
“I know, I know. Next, when did everything that happened inside of there start? Who first spotted the beginnings of it?” He questions, holding up his hand in surrender.
“I first spotted it. It was around nine-ish like I said. I was criticizing Bruce for bringing caviar to a party. Why the hell would some eat fish eggs? So I went to the kitchen to complain to them to stop making it and they were all dead. Every single one of them drowning in their own blood with permanent smiles carved into their faces.” Kayne replies, looking at the ground as if expecting them to pop up out of it.
“What happened after that?” Gordon asks.
“I screamed for Bruce, but I was gagged from behind and dragged off. Something hit me over the head and next thing I know I wake up with duct tape wrapped all the way around my face. My hands were bounded and so were my feet.” Kayne responds, itching the back of her head.
“Why would they bind you down? Did they tie up anyone else?” He questions, looking confused.
“No, I think they knew what I could do. When the bitch, Harley Quinn, woke me up I knew I wasn’t going to bother to get out of my bindings. What was the point? Then I saw that she hurt Alfred. I saw her waving around that gun like it was a toy. When she dragged me through the glass shards of the wine she poured on me, I grab a shard. Then she threatened a little boy. I had no idea who he was or why he stuck up for me but when that knife appeared I snapped. The old monster in me broke. I knocked her out and started taking the rest out. The only reason I hit to knock out and not kill was for that slim moral I have and the fact that little boy was watching. The clowns had guns but they didn’t try to take me out until I was a few guys in.” Kayne replies, heard hand on her chest as she empties the bag of chips into her mouth before crumpling it and throwing it in the trash.
“I made sure nobody hurt him. I didn’t even know any kids were at the party. It took all my energy that I had just recovered from a previous incident but I did it. I took them all out. Then she stabbed me from behind. She bolted before I could move. Not like I could catch her anyway, I spit up blood and fainted.” She finishes, grabbing her French fries from before.
“Nobody assisted you during this? We found some of the clowns with fist shaped bruise bigger than your face let alone fist.” Gordon asks, narrowing his eyes.
“I did it completely alone.” She responds, looking straight into his eyes.
He shuts off the recorder. “That’s it.” He comments, standing up. “See you next week Kayne. I want to be there to escort you home. I heard you would be getting your rehabilitation test then. If you pass you can go home, that true?”
“Ye-p!” She answers, popping her P happily. Gordon makes to leave but Kayne pips up after a quick glance at Bruce for assurance. “Hey Commissioner!” She calls, seriously.
“Yes Kayne?” He responds dutifully.
“Someone did save me. Batman was there and if it weren’t for him I would have been dead.” Kayne says honestly, watching as Gordon nods and leaves.