Well, hello there! Thanks so much for clicking on this story! This idea has been jumping around in my head, and I thought 'Eh, what the heck. Let's publish it.' So, I really hope you like this story! It's the whole 'Bruce can't seem to stop adopting small children' with a bit of a twist, which you will find out about later ;)

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter does contain physical abuse and attempted sexual abuse of a child. Nothing too graphic, as I could barely stomach what I had already written, but bold letters will announce the beginning and end of the scene if you wish to skip it.

Also, I'm aware that some people may think Crane is acting OOC in this chapter, that will be explained later on in the story, so please keep reading!

Without further ado, CASUS BELLI, chapter one!


Kristina did not know where she came from.

Of course, it wasn't for lack of trying. She'd been at the group home since she was two years old, and ever since she was old enough to know that she should have parents, she'd been attempting to break into Ms. Oscar's office. She was extremely proud to say that at ages eight, nine, and eleven, she'd nearly succeeded. When she was nine, she actually made it all the way to the computer and was in the middle of figuring out the password once she'd been caught. Unfortunately, when she tried again at eleven, she'd tripped on the loose floorboard and accidentally knocked that ugly red flower vase off it's stand, alerting the group home's administrator.

She'd been stuck in 'time out' for over six hours after that, and her outside privileges had been revoked for a week.

So, when she got caught a fourth time a few months after her twelfth birthday, Ms. Oscar decided it was time for something a little more 'impactful'.


"We have less than an hour to get the candy bars on the shelves, Kristina!"

The chocolate-haired girl didn't bother to suppress her eye roll at the harsh, grating sound of James Oscar's voice. The dark-haired old man was Ms. Oscar's older brother, and was every bit as nasty as his sister, if not more. The Oscar's not only worked as the main administrators for the group home, but they happened to own a little convenience store a few streets over. After it became obvious to the woman that putting the unruly child in 'time out', (which consisted of locking her in her room with none of her books, games, or crossword puzzles) for the whole day and not allowing her outside for days on end wasn't working, she seemed to come to the conclusion that manual labor would put a dent in Kristina's behavior.

So, that was how she found herself helping restock the store for that week. It wasn't the worst job, (she'd even managed to sneak a few tootsie pops and a bag of potato chips into her backpack) at least, it would be much better if James wasn't yelling at her every time she breathed wrong.

"That's not where the soda's go, Kristina!"

"I said alphabetical, in what world does c go before b?"

"You think that's organized? Hell, my sister raised you better than that!"

Kris was forced to bite her tongue as a familiar tendril of fury slowly curled up in her throat, and she almost screamed out how his sister hadn't raised her at all, but didn't. She was already in deep shit, and she missed playing volleyball with John. She didn't want to have her outside privileges taken away again.

As the day dwindled down into the last hour the store would be open, the door chimed, and Kris poked her head up from behind a shelf of juice cups, smiling in delight once she saw who had come.

Jonathan Crane was a quiet, albeit extremely creepy looking man with an intense blue gaze and glasses. Kris had met him when she was nine years old. Her school took a field trip to the courthouse, and once again, Kristina found herself somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.


Kris had to jog to catch up with her fourth-grade class, her long brown ponytail swinging against her back. Bright, hazel eyes looked around in wonder, marveling at the height of the marble columns and the shiny floors, the large oak doors holding multiple 'court rooms' her teacher had told them about.

As Mrs. Ramirez continued to tell the children about the portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne, she found herself bored. It wasn't that she didn't like hearing about the Wayne's, she actually really liked it. There was something about the story of a young boy suddenly abandoned that resonated with her young brain, and for some reason, gave her hope. Bruce Wayne didn't have parents, but he'd managed to leave Gotham, and maybe he had a good life somewhere. That meant she could do it once she was big, too.

But the young girl was high energy, and she was beyond restless. John was a grade above her, meaning he wasn't there, and she didn't like any of the other kids in her class; they all thought she was 'weird', and 'aggressive'. Which was ridiculous; Austin Mayhorne had taken her book, she was just trying to get it back. She hadn't meant for him to fall and smack his head on the slide, despite what he told the playground duty.

She started wandering away, following the tiled pattern on the floors. She wasn't sure how, but eventually, she found herself in front of a bunch of bookshelves, filled with books.

Books!

She glanced behind her, still able to see and hear Mrs. Ramirez talking to the class further down the hall. Biting her lip, she turned back, around, eyes roving hungrily over the books. She had already read all the ones at the group home, and in the classroom, and library day wasn't until Friday. She wasn't going to steal it, she was just going enjoy a few chapters and get back to the class before Mrs. Ramirez tried to send out an amber alert on her again.

Her hazel eyes fell on green book with gold lettering, but it was a little too high to be able to see what the words on the spine said. Standing on her toes, she reached up, her tongue poking out between her lips in concentration as she stretched further. Almost…got it…

"And what do you think you're doing?"

The voice startled her, and she went to reel backwards, but tripped on her sneakers and fell backwards onto her butt. The landing hurt, and she scowled as her eyes fell landed on a pair of shiny black shoes, traveling up two extremely long legs to a brown, slightly ratting jacket and finally to a long, pointed face and two startled blue eyes.

When their gazes met, the man's face went white, and he actually dropped his briefcase. Thin lips parted in shock, and he stuttered, looking as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"What-no, it's not- how are you- you can't be-" he stumbled over his words, voice weak with shock. Kris stood up, brushing her jeans off.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking at her shoes, "I just wanted to read a book."

Her voice seemed to snap him out of his weird mood, and he looked up at the shelf. "These books? How old are you?"

The doubt in his voice caused indignation to flare up in her chest. Kris may have been small, but she wasn't stupid, or weak, and she hated it when people doubted her. "Nine. How old are you?" She sassed back, folding her arms across her chest and standing straighter, trying to appear taller. She almost flinched, not meaning for her tone to sound so rude, but surprisingly, an amused smile pulled its way across the mans face. He crouched down, adjusting his glasses as he stared at her curiously.

"What's your name?"

"I'm not supposed to tell strangers." She shook her head firmly, remembering the 'stranger danger' talk they'd had at the beginning of the school year. The man chuckled mirthlessly.

"Well, how about I tell you my name? That way, we're not strangers anymore."

The idea actually made a lot of sense, and Kris nodded her head, smiling. This man didn't seem dangerous, he was so nice!

"My name is Jonathan, Jonathan Crane. What's yours?"

"I'm Kristina."

"Kristina what?"

"Kristina Smith." At the given last name, she frowned, absentmindedly twisting her foot against the ground. "But that's not my real last name; I don't think it is. Nobody knows my last name."

As she spoke, a smile began to grow across his face, and once she finished, he looked strangely happy. "Do you have a middle name?"

"Yeah. It's Elizabeth."

The man's blue eyes lit up, and he sat there, smiling at her before he nodded at the bookshelf behind her. "So, you like to read?"

She nodded eagerly, ponytail bouncing with the movement. "Yeah, I love it! But I've already read the books at the group home, and in my classroom. I just wanted a new one."

The man's face turned thoughtful, and he looked at her. "What if I were to find some new books for you? And some puzzles, too. Would you like that?"

The idea of getting new books and maybe some new puzzles sounded better than anything she'd heard before, and it made her smile widely. The man returned her smile and stood, extending his hand.

"Now, let's get back to your teacher, so she knows you're here."

Jonathan led her down the hall back towards Mrs. Ramirez, who was walking around the group of children, face tight with worry. As her eyes fell upon the girl, the worried expression dropped into one of relief, then transitioned into suspicion once she saw she was holding hands with a stranger.

"Kristina, I was so worried!" She scolded the young girl gently, and Kris bowed her head. She actually really liked Mrs. Ramirez, and she didn't want to make the teacher angry with her. The woman met the gaze of Jonathan, who looked suddenly more serious and severely unimpressed than before. He almost looked kind of angry.

"You should watch this child more closely." He told the teacher firmly, lips twisting into the beginning of a sneer. The teacher's eyes narrowed, and she held her hand out for Kris to take. The girl stepped forward, reaching for her, but Jonathan did not loosen his hold on her other hand. She turned back to him, confused, as Mrs. Ramirez began to look a bit more fearful.

"Thank you for finding her, sir, but I can take her from here." She stated, trying to sound firm, but her voice was wavering.

After several more seconds, he let go of Kris's hand, and Mrs. Ramirez grabbed onto the young girl, pulling her close. Now ignoring the woman, Jonathan looked back down at Kris.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Kristina." He told her warmly, "I hope to see you again soon."


After that, Jonathan started coming around all the time. He didn't adopt her, but he was always bringing her books, crossword puzzles, and sudoku. She didn't like the sudoku as much, but it was still nice, and she didn't want him to think she was being rude. He always seemed happy to see her, or, as happy as Jonathan could get. She'd learned the word to describe him in a book about a week after meeting him: reserved.

"Hi, Jonathan!" She greeted excitedly, rushing forward. The brown-haired man smiled calmly at her.

"Hello, Kristina. How are you doing?" He looked around the store. "Ms. Oscar said you would be here for the rest of this week." A thick brown eyebrow raised. "Did you try to break into the computer again?"

She pushed her lips, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear and looking away. "Um…maybe."

Jonathan sighed, but didn't look too upset. "Alright, well, I brought you some new titles, and some harder puzzles to work on." He looked at the rather dirty counter in distaste before gingerly setting his briefcase there, popping it open and pulling out a thick book. He held it out to the girl, and she took it, hazel eyes catching the title

"The Divine Comedy?" She asked, looking confused. "I don't think this is on our class reading list."

Jonathan scoffed, pulling out several more books before snapping the briefcase shut. "That silly list is too far beneath your level, Kristina. We need to continue to ensure that you're being challenged, and that means always introducing new books and puzzles." As if to emphasize this, he held out the two books. A rather thick sudoku book, and one that said Crosswords and Wordsearch, Level 21.

Kris took both of them, feeling giddy. The cement white walls of the group home and the strict rules of food time, outside, and showers often seemed similar to that time she read about prison. But with her books, puzzles, and getting to play with John, it seemed to help make her day just a little bit brighter. With Jonathan's visits, of course.

"So, how much longer will you be doing this?" He asked her disdainfully, looking around the convenience store. She glanced at the clock and shrugged.

"I dunno, probably another hour. I have to help James finish packing up the store."

Jonathan pursed his lips, the nodded. "Alright, well, I'll be seeing you next week, Kristina. I would hope you've done at least half the puzzles by that time."

She nodded, face serious, as he gave her one last warm, distracted smile, and then walked out of the store. The twelve-year-old wasn't sure why he ever looked at her like that, it almost seemed like he wasn't looking at her, his gaze seemed so far away.

The clock seemed to tick by slowly, slowly, slowly, practically crawling to nine o'clock. She glared at James every time he heaped a new chore on her, but did it without complaint, knowing that whenever she started to show her discomfort or distaste, James would go tattling back to his sister. Then she'd be stuck there even longer.

Finally, James told her to go to the back and grab her things. Almost giddy, she jogged back to the room, scooping everything into her bag. As she started to zip it up, though, she realized she'd left her sudoku book on the counter at the front.

Kris bit her lip, glancing back behind her. James was nowhere in sight, he may have already gone home. Maybe she could grab two sodas for John and herself to have with the snacks she'd gotten, too.

She peered around the corner, listening intently, but she couldn't hear the old man's heavy breathing or footsteps. She took a few hesitant steps forward and grabbed the sudoku book, making sure he wasn't crouched behind the counter.

Nothing but dead silence.

Feeling a bit more confident, she scurried back to the fridges and pulled it open, reaching in to grab two ice cold cans of Coke, smiling brightly. But as the fridge door swung shut, her eyes landed on a belt buckle under a heavy, gross potbelly clad in a blue shirt, and her eyes flew up in horror to see James sneering at her.

"Well, what do we have here?" He snarled, reaching out to snatch the soda's from her grasp. "A little thief, huh?"

Kris didn't say anything, continuing to back away. She could feel fear rising up in her chest, making it hard to breathe. James was known for being harsh, what was her punishment going to be?

"And just what else do you have?" As if to punctuate his words, his hand shot forward and grabbed her backpack strap, yanking it harshly from her shoulder and causing her to stumble. She felt blood drain from her face when he dumped it out, the tootsie pops and chip bag falling to the ground along with her puzzles and schoolbooks. He looked up at her, glaring menacingly.

"Do you know how we punish thief's, girl?" He asked darkly, taking a step forward. She didn't even bother to respond, it's not like she could have. Her voice had failed her, stuck in her throat. "I think I'm going to have to tell my sister…"

"No!" She quickly found herself again, and she shook her head frantically, "please, I won't do it again, don't tell her!"

He paused, his face shrouded by the shadows. A blinking green light outside seemed to blare threateningly over his face, showing a strange, wide smile.

WARNING: PHYSICAL AND ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ABUSE OF A MINOR

"You know what, here's the deal: I won't tell her."

Kris felt relief hit her chest, and she took a deep breath. But then he took another step forward, and she felt her back hit the fridge door behind her. She'd been stepping backwards.

"But you still owe me for the things you stole, Kristina."

The panic returned, just a smudge, and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, James, I only have five dollars, but you can have it-"

"Shhhh," he stepped forward again, this time too close. Kris flinched when his finger brushed over her cheek, and it was shockingly cold and rough against her skin. "It's ok, sweet girl, this will be nice, I promise."

He cradled her face, but she flinched away. She started to try and slide away again, but he suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Panic flared full force in her chest, and she scratched as his hand. He squeezed her arm harder, and she whimpered at the pain.

"No, let go! Let-!" James' hand landed a hard, backhanded blow across her cheek, and she felt a sharp pain in the left corner of her mouth. His hand then came over her lips, silencing her, and she felt tears burn her eyes as his nose buried in her hair.

"Be quiet!" He hissed, and then he started tugging at her jacket. Kris didn't know what was happening, but whatever it was, it was scaring her, and she didn't like it. In the midst of her fear, her mind flew back to when she and John had been fighting that group of boys a few months ago who had shoved her down during their soccer game together.

Always hit a guy in between the legs, Krissy, it hurts them a lot.

The picture of her best friend's face in her head seemed to give her strength, and without bothering to think about it more, she slammed her blue-sneakered foot up as hard as she could. It landed in between James' thighs, and his grip loosened, air leaving his mouth with a loud oof!

********** SCENE OVER

He let go of her, falling onto his knees and grasping his stomach, cursing loudly. Without bothering to wait for him to get up, she took off for the nearest exit, the back door. Frantically, she scrambled with the lock and threw the heavy gray door open, bolting into the alleyway behind it. Her footsteps pounded against the cement, splashing in several puddles as she ran. She wasn't even sure where she was going, anywhere that was away from James.

The sound of the door slamming open made her trip over a few loose chunks of cement that had broken off from the sidewalk, and as she crashed to the ground, she heard large, uneven footsteps come pounding towards her. "Come back here, you little bitch!"

A small scream of fear flew past her lips and she stumbled to her feet, taking off again down the alleyway. She took random turns down the streets, wanting to scream, but unable to do so. It was like everything but her legs was paralyzed.

She hooked another corner-

-and crashed hard into a pair of legs.

She hit the ground hard, a startled, pained cry flying past her lips. She jumped to her feet, heart pounding, and looked up at the man she'd crashed into

Or, sort of a man. He was dressed all in black with weird buckles all over his chest and a black mask on; like the kind the cartoon burglars had. She stared up at him in shock, but an angry, familiar voice made her stomach fall and her heart leap into her throat.

"You better come out, you little slut, or I'll make you sorry!" The close proximity of his voice made new tears well up in her eyes, and she jumped behind the man, grasping onto one of the buckle straps for security right as James came heaving around the corner.

He was breathing heavily, wheezing in some places, and sweating grotesquely. Her throat burned as he walked closer, glaring at the man she hid behind.

"Hey, buddy; tell you what, I won' tell the cops I saw you, and you give me back the girl, eh?" He chuckled as he walked closer, "Though, I gotta say, you should really pick a better outfit, my friend."

The man she was hiding behind looked down at her, and she found herself staring back up. As their eyes met, she realized, underneath the faint light of a nearby streetlamp, that they were green. A little darker, and they would be just like hers. He looked at her scared, trembling, young face and his eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on the bleeding laceration to the skin, a bruise forming around it.

"Get behind that dumpster, and don't watch." He told her in a gravelly, deep voice, and she was too frightened to argue, scampering to follow his orders. She slid down, back pressed against the dumpster and her knees up as she listened.

"Hey! What are you- " a loud thud and grunt of pain cut James off midsentence, and Kris felt her curiosity rise too high to follow the man's instructions. Cautiously, she peered around the dumpster.

Her mouth fell open slightly as she watched. The dark figure moved fluidly, like water, as he delivered several harsh blows to James stomach, kicked his knee in, (that made her wince) and then slammed his fist into his jaw. The overweight man dropped like a sack of a potatoes, and then it was silent.

"I thought I told you not to watch." His gravelly voice made her jump, and she realized he wasn't even looking at her. Standing, she quietly slinked over to him, feeling a little more intimidated than before.

"How'd you do that?" She asked, and winced when her mouth opened, stretching the cut near the corner of her mouth. James' ring had delivered a deep, nasty nick to it, and it kinda hurt to speak.

"I learned when I was young." He responded, turning to face her. "What are you doing out this time of night? Your parents are probably worried."

At the P word, she dropped her head, resisting the urge to scowl so as not to aggravate her cut. "I don't have any. I got in trouble at the group home, and the administrator made me help at her families convenience store."

"Is that who this is?" The man asked darkly, nodding to the unconscious form by his feet. She shook her head.

"No, it's his sister."

The man was quiet before crouching down to her level, looking at her face. His eyes seemed to soften.

"How long have you been in foster care?"

She shrugged, biting her lip, then wincing at the pain from her cut. "My whole life, I guess. I never knew my parents, but I've always been trying to find out. That's why I was in trouble, Ms. Oscar caught me trying to break into the files again."

The twelve-year-old could've sworn she saw his lips twitch, and he stood, offering a hand.

"Well, let's get you home, then. It's cold out."


Next chapter: Bruce decides he has the ability to make a difference in more ways than just saving people at night. We get to see a smidge of what's going on in Crane's head concerning Kristina (It is NOT romantic or pedophilic in any way, trust me).