Chapter Text
that damn chicken is standing in front of me. he's tall, he's yellow, his beak is pointy and plastic, this fucking mascot is annoying to look at.
"i heard you were talking shit about me, you bitch," the guy under it spat out, and it's almost embarressing that i never actually found out who wore the suit.
i look around, i'm in front of Hell- i mean Chicken's Beak, that stupid fast foods shop i worked at for three years.
"yeah so what?" i say as i look up into his plastic beady eyes.
"so what i'm gonna do is beat you to a pulp, you squinty bitch," he spat and came at me.
i jumped and my eyes snapped open. in another world, i probably did some cool back flip to get away from his punch, maybe even did some kind of cool side step and trip him. in my life, he hit me once and i went tumbling down, hit my head on a trashcan and passed out.
i still have nightmares to this day, i was the talk of the town for months before some other poor kid took everyones attention.
and now i'm looking at an unfamiliar ceiling.
i groan, my neck aches. i bring a hand to my neck and turn my head, looking around. i jump up and almost fall off the bed as a man was sitting in the corner of the room, watching me.
"holy shit!" i yell as my hand slips off the bed and i have to push my body forward so i don't go tumbling. hell, with my luck there'd be a trashcan waiting down there for my head to give it a good bang.
but i end up falling forward.
i quickly go to stand at my tall height of averageness, and watch the guy with a weird expression.
"you're quite energetic in the morning," he speaks in a deep voice and i visibly and mentally cringe as my lip turns up.
"come on man, you can watch me in my sleep but don't comment, that's just creepy," i explain, though then again, it was creepy watching me in general.
"where am i? and who are you? oh and why the fuck am i here?" i list my top three questions, knowing i had at least a million racing around my mind. the main one in my head -that i chose not to ask because, despite him being creepy and probably perverted, i didn't want to show that i was creepy- was 'why was a handsome ass man like thyself watching a simple peasent as myself?
and that question seems to trigger every other thought, to say this man looked just rich was probably a crime, i could smell the money on him, i could practically see the gold thready embedded in his damn suit.
i take a step back, i'm probably committing a crime breathing the same air as him, i hope he doesn't ask me to cash app him for some kinda fee.
"do you remember last night?" he completely ignores the questions and i almost scoff (i'm pretty sure i did but i won't admit that).
"last night?" and almost on cue, last night comes rushing in.
"oh my fucking bitches, are you a stalker? did you kidnap me like in the wattpad stories? are you in the mob? holy shit, look i don't have money, i'm poor," i almost sob -and from how his eyes softens, my acting has only gotten better over the years-.
"i don't know what a wattpad is," i roll my eyes but let him continue, "but no, i'm not a stalker, in the mob and i'm not going after your money."
"then why did you kidnap me? look i was lying before, i don't know shit about DC, i was trying to act cool," what a fucking liar i am, "and all that stuff i said about Batman? i was trying to get you in my bed," was that true? yes.
he quirked a brow at me and i quickly snapped my mouth shut.
he huffed, "look, i am Bruce Wayne, the real one, not some comic super hero."
i groan frusterated, "did your father love you? did you look up to Bruce as a kid so now you wanna be him? look, i know a good therapist, he's great, i'll get you some help."
"Reader," and i froze, and i also regret telling him my name because butterfingers, the way his voice sounds saying it is enough to make me, totally not a pervert, go weak, "i ran you in the system."
"fucks a system?"
he didn't stop to answer me, "you don't exist."
i freeze, my stomach dropped.
we watched each other before i let out a huff of humorless laughter, "what? i',m right here," i gesture down to myself, only then seeing that i was still in my batman pants and white tank top, "you-you see me, i'm alive," i look back up and meet his eye.
"is this a prank? did my parents do this? is this some kinda sick revenge for me running away?" before he could answer, i continue, "that's really fucking childish and messed up, that was years ago, and not just that, but this," i register to the world around us, a small room with a bookshelf, bed and desk with a chair, "i'm pretty sure is illegal, y'know kidnapping."
he steps forward and i take a step back, stopping mid sentence to say, "don't come any closer."
he paused and listened, taking two steps back.
i watch him and my face relaxes, "how much did they pay you?" i ask in an almost hushed tone.
"Reader," his voice was gentle yet gruff, like gravell, "i don't know your parents, and i wasn't paid. i am Batman, but i guess where you're from, Batman's just a comic character."
i laugh again, "where i'm from? do you hear what you're saying? Batman is fictional!" i yell, trying to get close to him.
he shakes his head gently as he watched me.
"no no no, don't shake your head," i say as i point at him, "you're the crazy, delusional one! not me!"
he then stopped all together with reactions and watched me. i pause and stare up at him. then a bright idea comes to mind.
"fine, if you're Batman, then Superman's real, right?"
he stared at me before shaking his head yes, "prove it. lemme see the golden boy fly," and my faces breaks out into a 'i fucking caught you' face.
he sighed and nods, agreeing, and man this guy is one crazy, psychopath dude.
"Clark, come here please, it's an emergency," it goes quiet, my hearts racing, and i don't know why. maybe this guy will freak out when he finds out that all this is fake. or maybe Superman does show up, and i really am in front of the Batman.
i shake my head, i'm right. he said i didn't exist, but clearly i fucking do.
but of course, i am proven wrong, as Batman brings a hand up and points behind me.
i freeze up but turn none the less, and there, floating out the stupid window behind the bed i was sleeping in, no less than thirty minutes ago, was a man there.
my breathes speeds as me and him make eye contact. my eyes widen, i can feel them widen, it feels as though they're tearing at the edges. and my eyebrows, fuck they are pushed up so high into my forehead.
my blood is cold, my stomach has fallen, and i am staring at a flying man.
i hear footsteps, but only register them as Batman walks past me and pushes the window open, letting the flying man, fly in.
he lands near Batman, and all i could do was stare and sputter out words.
"flying, you're flying, oh my fuck, i'm sick, how were you flying? Superman's not real, no, no, none of this is, Batman's not real," and i didn't notice i was walking backwards till my back was pressed to the wall behind me, and i slid to the ground, staring up at the men in front of me.
my breathing sped up, my heart rate faster than before, and then everything faded.
and that stupid chicken was standing in front of me.