Fanfic #21 Falling Down by DerHesse (DC SI)
This is a si fanfic in Gotham that starts from before Batman was around and is developing into modern Gotham.
Synopsis: No answers, no idea where to go. A young man has to start all over again in a world, that was both familiar and painfully confusing.
Rated: M
words: 42k
https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/falling-down-dc-si.914907/reader/
Here's the first chapter:
It felt like hours, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the tattered poster on the wall.
The little desk light on the ratty nightstand made it impossible to make out details, but what held my gaze was printed in big fat letters boldly right near the top.
"Gotham Knights" I mouthed in honest confusion.
'Football?' I shook my head; I didn't even know the damn rules.
I let my gaze wander over the, 'my?', room again. Brushing over the little toy revolver on the nightstand and the grey cowboy hat hanging on the bedpost, it settled on the window above the bed, which was almost pitch black except for a few bright dots blurred by the heavy raindrops, that pelted the glass.
Climbing on top of the ruffled sheets I scurried over the mattress and finally had a good look outside. Thoughts and confusion regarding the size of everything around me were immediately pushed to the background of my mind by the sight that greeted me.
I gasped.
Indistinguishable facades, multiple stories high, barely illuminated by if I had to guess a streetlight far below. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass trying to get a better view downward, immediately curious just how far up I actually was. Straightening a tiny bit, I was able to get a better angle and finally saw the top of a single streetlight.
'What is going on?' I leaned back slightly and wiped away the fog and the big smudge left by my breath and forehead. My eyes focusing on the outside again I finally lost some of my composure.
"Holy shit!" I exclaimed loudly. Too loud to my own ears I whipped my head towards the door on the far side of the room expecting some kind of reaction to my outburst.
A few uneven heartbeats later I slowly turned back to the sight that left me not-quite speechless.
Just above the row of apartments across the street, in the distance, I saw an absolutely massive skyline. Like titans cloaked in darkness, only the red aircraft warning lights and the occasional company logos, which meant nothing to my scrambled brain, gave some semblance of shapes to those structures.
I leaned back on my haunches and shook my head again.
'Let's take a step back here.' I crawled over the bed towards the headpiece and sat on the side with the toy gun and the hat.
Wary of surprises I took the gun, slightly relieved by the light weight, and held it in the light of the desk lamp. What I saw combined with the weight made it increasingly clear, that thankfully it really just was a toy revolver. Holding it closer to the hot lightbulb I saw a small logo on the grip.
Putting the piece of plastic back down I reached up and grabbed the hat, which on closer inspection wasn't a regular cowboy hat but some kind of grey army hat. Turning it in my hands my eyes settled on a little decorative piece of plastic in the shape of two rifles on the front.
The deep dark haze, that was my mind currently, supplied me with long-forgotten trivia about the American civil war and the 'bad guys'. Turning the confederate hat once more I saw a little label with the same 'Hex'-logo.
"Whatever." I muttered exhausted and somewhat annoyed by everything. I switched off the light and crawled under the covers again, hoping to dream next about being the only man on that Amazon Island.
-----
A slam of a door, so violent that it rattled through my room, made me bolt upright, and got my heart pumping. I squinted and tried to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun streaming through the window.
With a start and the feeling of a bottomless pit forming my gaze locked onto the toy on the nightstand. My already racing heart not slowing in the slightest, a shiver involuntarily going through me and my palms getting increasingly sweatier I swung out of bed and stepped into the middle of the room, refusing to touch anything as panic gripped me.
Things were starting to feel more and more uncomfortable and nonsensical. The sun lighting up the room made it impossible to hide the fact, that I was standing in a random children's room with a fucking 'Gotham Knights' poster on the wall and an apparently American skyline just outside.
More important, however, were the positively tiny hands I couldn't help but stare at. Transfixed, I ignored the shaking, and my gaze followed along my arms until I looked down at the body of a young boy in sleepwear.
Scared shitless but determined to get at least some answers I hesitantly made my way to the door and listened for any kind of sound besides the noise coming from the streets below.
Nothing.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself I slowly opened the door just a crack and listened again, still no sounds.
'Fuck it!' Pushing my hesitation down, I opened the door fully and saw what seemed to be a small dining area and a kitchen behind it.
Still in 'my' room, I peeked outside, which revealed a small window left of the dining area and a small living room complete with couch, coffee table, and an old CRT TV of all things on the right.
Finally stepping out I was determined to be as silent as possible and took a good look around the small living space. I took note of two more doors on the side of my room and a third on the opposite, next to the couch. Parents, bathroom, and entrance if I had to guess. Still wary of any sounds I made my way to the coffee table and the clutter, that caught my eye.
A small pink purse lying on its side, lipstick, make-up, and other beauty stuff spilling out, but more importantly an opened packet of pills…half full.
"Te… Temazepam" I read out loud, still clueless, I pulled out the package insert and skimmed the first few paragraphs. Sleeping pills, I concluded, which had me look at the rest of the things on the table in a slightly more alarmed way. A half-empty bottle of wine and a glass, which obviously had been filled almost to the brim.
'Fucking hell!' I eyed the two doors next to my room with rising dread. Now seriously expecting an overdosed corpse greeting me in one of them because I apparently wasn't fucked enough already.
Resigned to get this over with I went to the door next to mine, held my ear against the wood, and listened. Nothing. Funnily enough, I didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
Pulling the handle down I slowly opened the door an inch, then another until I saw a tiled floor and not much else since the lights were out. Now slightly more confident I fully opened the door and switched on the light above.
The bathroom was … modest to say the least and thankfully empty. It did however have a little stool in front of the washbasin and a mirror on the cabinet above. Eagerly stepping on top I gazed into the eyes of a complete stranger. Black hair, and blue eyes, both things I honestly should not have and final confirmation, that I was really in the body of a child.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, intent not to fly off the handle at least for now.
Taking another breath, my thoughts somewhat settled again.
This meant door number three probably hid the zonk in this little shit show.
Resigned to deal with whatever was on the other side I listened again and grimaced when I heard nothing. I opened the door slowly, the light from the living room illuminating a gab inside.
And stopped! I held the door and listened again. Soft breathing.
Pulse racing, my knuckles white on the door handle I gingerly closed the door again until just a tiny crack remained.
Breathing, I leaned closer, soft but steady breathing. Immediately relaxed I thanked whatever asshole deity, that parked me here and finally closed the door when I heard sleepy murmuring and the rustle of sheets.
As if a weight was suddenly lifted from my shoulders I went back to business with renewed vigor.
The living room was thankfully barren except for the TV on top of a cheap-looking TV bench and a bookshelf, which on closer inspection only held a handful of books, some framed pictures, and a shoebox near the top.
Drawn to one picture in particular, I reached up and grasped it. A black-haired boy and a drop-dead gorgeous young woman with long silky tresses of the same color smiling at the camera at what seemed to be a recent enrolment at an elementary school. With a start I realized, who these people in the picture were and glanced at the closed door I just left.
I frowned, but I couldn't help but draw a bleak, tragic, and somewhat cliché picture.
A beautiful young woman with a kid in a very modest apartment, a gaudy purse with cheap beauty products, pills and alcohol, and apparently 'night shifts' given that she slept during the day.
I swallowed the rising bile and ignored my bleeding heart for the moment and put the frame back in its original place. I saw another picture, this time of a young good-looking brown-haired man. He was leaning on a bar of a pizzeria given the decoration and raised a shot of some dark liquid in a friendly manner towards whoever was holding the camera. Got to admit, the dude looked cool enough in the picture.
Shaking my head, I decided not to form any thoughts regarding the man, who is probably this body's father at least until I had more to work with than a single picture.
Heading towards the dining area intent to grab a chair so I could reach the shoebox, which had 'documents' scribbled on it, I saw a crinkled newspaper on the table. I paused until I decided that I would deal with this after the box and carried a chair back towards the shelf.
In no time I scrambled on top of the chair and took the surprisingly heavy shoe box back to the couch and the coffee table, where I sat down intent to gather more information.
Lifting the lid my eyes widened comically, I carefully placed the lid next to the box, my gaze fixed on the thing inside as if it could attack me at any moment, and swallowed, my mouth suddenly very dry.
That was not a toy.
'Ruger Security Six' was engraved on its side, which meant nothing to me. The thing was a big-ass revolver and that was that. To complete the picture there was a box next to it, which read in bold letters .357 Magnum.
I reached inside the box with both hands and gingerly deposited the gun and the box full of ammunition on the lid next to the carton to get to the documents underneath.
Birth certificates, high school diplomas, a rental agreement and so on. It wasn't much, but I was able to paint a decent picture of this little family.
My name apparently was William Forster, born February 16, 1980 in the West Mercy Hospital in Gotham freaking City. I had to shake my head when I read that little tidbit, my situation taking more and more root in my mind.
Anyway, my mother was Claudia Panessa born to Italian immigrants. My father was Leonardo Forster, who was born to a German father and an Italian mother. Apparently, I got my name from my paternal grandfather Wilhelm Forster. Moreover, it seemed my parents were young and happy when they married given the dozens of wedding photos I found in a paper bag. Curiously enough there was also a letter from a guy called Franco Bertinelli with the photos, that stated that he's happily giving his blessing to the young couple and their intentions.
Taking a deep breath, I leaned back into the couch and centered myself to get my thoughts back in order and back to the task at hand. I didn't want to admit to anything out loud yet or commit to anything regarding whatever this was, but I needed to keep going, do something, otherwise I expected my panic to flare up again and that was something I didn't need right now.
I glanced towards the dining table and eyed the newspaper on top. At least I had something to keep me occupied I thought, as I carefully placed everything back into the shoebox in the right order.
As quick as I got the carton from the shelf down, I got it back up and carried the chair to the dining area, conscious of the fact, that 'my mother' was sleeping behind a flimsy wooden door.
Going around the table to grab the paper and take it to my room something caught my eye in the kitchen, more precisely in the sink.
My lips pressed into a thin line, I felt my frown deepen considerably as I got closer and got a good look inside. Bottles, empty bottles. Half a dozen empty beer bottles and a single empty bottle of bourbon lay haphazardly in the kitchen sink.
"Oh shit." I cursed silently in resignation as another puzzle piece was added to my father given, that my mother seemed to favor wine.
Acting on impulse I quietly searched the drawers for the cutlery, I didn't feel any bruises on my body, but given the alcohol and the fact that we were living in Gotham I wasn't going to bet on the idea of my father being a soft and caring man.
Quickly finding the right drawer I picked one of the steak knives. Satisfied, I closed the drawer, grabbed the newspaper from the table, and took it along with the knife to my room.
Closing the door behind me, I hid the knife under the mattress of my bed and hopped on top of it.
-----
It was already late in the evening, the sun had sunken behind Gotham's skyline for quite some time now as I lay in bed, desperately trying to fall asleep.
The newspaper served its purpose and was now back on the dining table.
Not a whole lot going on during this June weekend 1986, the Gotham Knights lost against the Boston Colonials, temperatures are expected to reach up to 82 °F …
Oh right, the Bertinelli family was violently gunned down last week. The only survivor apparently was a little girl.
That was on page three, by the way.
At least that explained partway why my mother walked on eggshells near my father. I had felt physically ill as I spied him drunkenly stumble into the apartment late into the afternoon, seeing my mother's purse on the coffee table he went straight towards their bedroom, which my mother apparently had locked from the inside as a precaution, I reckoned.
He had angrily rattled on the door but apparently had enough sense not to break the flimsy wooden thing as he stumbled back towards the couch and thankfully had promptly passed out in a drunken stupor.
It was half an hour later when I had heard the bedroom unlock and I spied my mother tiptoe out. Already in her 'workwear', which barely covered her thighs and bright red heels in hand she quietly gathered her purse and tiptoed out of the apartment.
I suppose it was also rather telling that both of my parents haven't looked after me since I took over this body, but who was I to judge.
Anyway, long story short, my current hypothesis was as follows.
My old man worked for the Mob in some capacity or another, his old boss, Franco Bertinelli, got snuffed out and now he was basically unemployed. Things weren't rosy before given, that 'Dad' already had a full stash of booze and beer in one of the kitchen cupboards and 'Mom' handled a passed out drunk on the couch like a precarious but common annoyance, but things seemed to have taken a turn for the worse since the murders. The slight shaking of Claudia as she got near Leonardo on the couch was hard to miss and made me all the more glad for my decision to hide the knife under my bed.
Sighing in defeat, I tried to get as comfortable as possible and desperately hoped to just wake up in my own bed again.
-----
This time I wasn't woken by the slam of a door, this time it was far worse.
Shouting.
Disorientated at first given the unfamiliar surroundings, the pained scream that followed the shouting was like a bucket of cold water and had me get out of bed in a flash. Heart pounding, I flipped the mattress up, grabbed the knife, and crept towards the door.
Listening I heard more slurred shouting, then the unmistakable sound of a slap immediately followed by pained sobs, that had my nails dig into my palm around the handle of the knife.
I opened the door slowly and watched as he manhandled his wife and pushed her roughly down on the couch.
The screams, the sobs, and the begging of that beautiful woman pierced me like knives.
Over the rushing in my ears, I dimly heard the man mumble something, but I didn't care in the slightest. All I saw in this very moment was him keeping her down with one knee while fumbling around with his belt and pants and the terrified eyes of the woman underneath him.
I felt my face go numb and my mind go blank. I watched everything as if in stop motion, every single frame in crystal clarity, one moment I sprinted past the dining table, the next I stepped on the coffee table, a heartbeat later my left arm was around 'my father's' neck for purchase and suddenly I was repeatedly plunging a knife into his back.
I heard a gasp before me, but I didn't stop, couldn't stop, the first stab went in smoothly, the second and third hit bone, the fourth went deep again. I felt my chest get drenched and my grip on the knife become slippery, but I didn't care, the screams of the woman still echoing in my ears and her terrified gaze burned into my mind.
Suddenly I felt the weight in front of me shift, instincts told me to let go of the knife and I quickly jumped back and off the coffee table, just in time to see Leonardo Forster keel over backward, dead.
Eyes on the growing pool of blood and the rushing in my ears becoming overwhelming I nearly had a heart attack when two soft arms suddenly wrapped around my shoulders and I heard quiet sobbing in my ear.
Frozen, emotions in turmoil, this felt like the best thing in the world, and I returned the hug wholeheartedly.
A mother comforting her son and a stranger comforting a terrified and scared woman.
I didn't know how long we held each other, but at some point Claudia calmed down enough to give me a quick peck on the forehead and stand up. She still held my hand in a fierce grip and I let her, but she visibly tried to come to terms with the situation and come up with a plan.
Suddenly she perked up and searched for her purse.
She pressed me into her side as if to spare me the sight of the corpse of my father, bent down to grab her purse, and led me into the kitchen.
She let go of me and retrieved, what looked like a little notebook, and quickly flipped through the pages. Despite her letting go of me I stayed as close as possible to her, painfully obvious even to me how close she was to losing her already fragile nerves.
Seeing her find the number she was looking for, I decided to act. I hopped on top of the counter, plopped down, my feet left dangling, and gently reached for her hand with mine, the one that wasn't covered in blood.
Immensely relieved when her shocked flinch quickly turned into a genuine smile, I immediately returned it and lightly squeezed her hand. She gave me another quick peck on my forehead, and focused on the task at hand, concentrating, she carefully dialed the number and closed her eyes as she waited for the other side to pick up.
I used the seconds that ticked by to take a good look at the woman in front of me.
I forgot the exact date, but she was younger than me by a whopping four years.
Whereas I was 28, had a decent apartment in a little German town, a relatively new compact car, a normal job, and the occasional embarrassing drunken flirt in bars or less drunken in the office.
This woman got out of high school, hooked up, got pregnant in 80s Gotham City, and somehow landed herself a job that required night shifts and flimsy workwear. I really didn't want to think about what she had to put up with.
I saw her eyes snap open and relief seemed to fill her as someone finally picked up.
"Uncle Peppe…"
-----
When this 'Uncle Peppe' had finally arrived she gave him a relieved hug which he returned with visibly awkward but honest reassuring pats on the back. He seriously had looked like he wasn't used to being soft around people.
Quickly closing the door behind him when he stepped in, Claudia had taken his hand and led him to the dining table. The gist of the situation was handled on the phone, which was the reason why there hadn't been much talking since then and why we were currently all sitting in the dining area and letting Uncle Peppe quietly take stock of the whole situation in a more calm manner.
After what felt like hours he finally turned away from the corpse of my late father and took a long hard look at Claudia's face. No doubt taking note of every single dried tear track, her ruined make-up, and red eyes. Straightfaced his gaze finally settled on me and I stared back, fully aware that my right side was still profusely covered with blood.
He was undoubtedly a very scary man, but I didn't think I had anything to fear from him. Furthermore, I was feeling …calm, I guess. I was coming more and more to terms with whatever this cosmic Multiverse mumbo-jumbo was and just as importantly I wasn't feeling a single shred of guilt at killing a man who was about to violate a defenseless woman, quite the contrary in fact.
He closed his eyes and shook his head once in a mixture of pity and annoyance.
"He used to be a good kid, but he lost the plot a while ago." He stated, referring to the man on the floor, and looked me straight in the eyes again.
"If you hadn't done it, I would have." He said it and I knew he meant it, he gave a quick glance towards Claudia checking how she was holding up, and turned back to me. My eyes stayed on Claudia however and took note of the fond smile she was giving me, which I quickly returned. I wasn't sure if she was seeing her little baby hero or a future mafia boss.
Peppe, seeing that he had my attention again, gave me a nod.
"You did good, son, a true Panessa." He eventually added with a proud smile.
"What are we going to do now?" My mother asked with renewed strength, feeling the silver lining.
"I will deal with the body and the carpet." Peppe answered nonchalantly.
"Do you have money?" He asked bluntly in return.
Claudia bit her lip and eyed her bedroom. "I hid around 5000 Dollars."
"Good, I want you to grab everything important, write a cancelation of your rental agreement and leave the town. With the Bertinelli Family dead there's a lot of chaos and confusion currently and I have a cousin in Naples, Florida who has an inn for old folks where you can get settled." He rattled off while my mother looked increasingly hesitant.
"It's now or newer to leave this place, Claudia!" He implored.
"She will do it!" I intervened before she could protest, both adults whipped their heads around.
"Tell us about your cousin, do you trust her?" I asked pointedly, he raised a lone eyebrow at me, but answered, nonetheless.
"She left the city young. She was always a kind soul and didn't want to be a part of this life."
"She's around my age." He added after a moment's thought for my mother's sake.
A tension, that I didn't even notice until now left me and I turned towards my mother. I didn't care what they would think about me, I couldn't hide behind some childish façade and watch this woman deny herself the chance of a lifetime.
"Mom," I started as serious as a six-year-old could be and continued when I had her attention. "You are a beautiful young woman, and you are not stupid. Please take this chance and build yourself a happy life far away from here."
I saw her open her mouth to reply, but then Uncle Peppe gently took her hand and cut her off.
His gaze on me was appraising, obviously understanding what I was implying.
"And what about you, son?" He asked intently.
"I stay here, in an orphanage, I don't care, but I want her to start with a clean slate and make the most of it." I answered honestly and meaning every work.
"Billy-" My mother cried out, close to tears, not understanding what I was saying.
"Mom-" I tried to cut her off, but Uncle Peppe suddenly interrupted me.
"Can you cook?" Claudia and I stared at him, not quite understanding where that came from.
'Instant Meals' I wanted to say but thought better of it. "I can learn it." I finally answered instead.
He nodded once, more to himself, apparently coming to a decision.
"I will take him." He said resolutely, but seeing my mother getting pissed he hastily elaborated.
"I mean, he can stay with me until he finishes high school. He will help in the restaurant and the kitchen and when he's old enough he will get a job as a waiter or kitchen help to earn some money. When the time comes, he can join you down south."
"Deal." I quickly said and tried to ignore Claudia's anguished stare.
Thankfully, she relented eventually, and things were put into motion.