A/N: Hey! It's Mrs_Washyton! 

SoooOOOOOoooo! This is from the series "The Ugliest Trait" in my other book for the Bat Boys. Basically, I'm turning the whole thing into a book, but I'm starting from the very beginning! I hope you enjoy this (tho it is a bit tRaShY), I really enjoyed writing this. Trust and believe me, it'll get better

Word count: 2638

Next Update: Friday

Chapter 1: A Night To Remember (part 1)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

"Mr.Wayne! Mr.Wayne!"

"Happy birthday, Bruce!"

"Bruce, how was New York?!"

"Over here! Happy birthday, Mr. Wayne!"

"Are you happy to be back in Gotham?!"

"Did you meet a woman suitable to be your wife?!"

"Enjoy your day!"

"What is the future looking like for Wayne Enterprises?!"

Paparazzi buzzed around the billionaire as if he were their queen bee. Bruce tried his best to maintain a smile as he tolerated their annoying questioning and desperate attempts for his attention. He hardly stepped foot off of his private jet when men and women began probing him for information and screaming his name. It was a good idea he decided to wear shades, too, since reporters and fans kept nearly taking his eye sight with their blinding cameras flashing at every moment. He turned his head to watch a plane prepare for landing in the distance. While he waited for his hired security to clear a path for him, he considered answering a question or two just for the heck of it. Bruce's eyes flashed into the crowd of at least 27 people wearing granted entrance passes around their necks. He came to recognize a few familiar faces. "Ms. Abadi," he said with a head nod.

A hijab wearing news reporter beamed and motioned for her cameraman to start filming. She pushed a way forward and held a mic to her mouth. "Welcome back and happy birthday, Bruce!"

"Thank you very much, I appreciate the fact that everyone remembered."

"Of course! And please, call me Nora! Did you enjoy your trip?" She then held the microphone out to Bruce who thankfully came closer in order to be heard clearly. His guards crossed their arms once they deemed the crowd under control and kept an eye on their boss. "I did, I did. Manhattan is a very beautiful city, I'd love to visit again."

Folks held out recorders or scribbled something in their little journals the moment he opened up his mouth.

"That's great to hear," she smiled politely  at him and then the camera. "Now, I'm going to get straight to the point."

"Shoot your shot," he chuckled, tucking his hands in his pockets.

"Bruce, are you aware of the rumor that everyone has been gossiping about?"

"Which one? The one where everyone says I'm some college girl's sugar daddy?" he asked, unimpressed. Nora snickered, wiggling her brows at the camera before turning back to the philanthropist. "No. However, while you were away, it became quite the popular belief that you had gotten a young woman pregnant. Is this true?"

Bruce shook his head, silently laughing. "I can assure you that I have not gotten anyone knocked up, Nora."

"Well, what do you think about having kids in the future? When you settle, perhaps?"

Bruce bit the inside of his cheek lightly, somewhat considering her question. He was close to replying when he heard the honking of a vehicle. He leaned to the side a little to look around the reporter and saw a black limousine slowly coming to a stop just behind the paparazzi. He looked back to Nora and smiled cheekily. "Sorry, Nora, but my ride is here," he announced, pushing down his shades to give her a wink. Nora flushed and watched him stride behind his security, curtly nodding or shaking his head at random questions thrown his way. The woman sighed dreamily, cupping her cheek in her free hand until she saw a camera in the corner of her eyes. "O-Oi! Gerard cut the camera off!" she hissed, brows lowering.

Bruce stopped outside of his limousine just as his driver left his seat and jogged around the vehicle's length. "Mr.Wayne," the young blonde greeted him with a tilt of his hat. He opened the backdoor and motioned for his boss to enter when security stepped away to retrieve his luggage. Bruce hardly acknowledged the three of them as he crawled into the backseat with the door closing behind him. A couple minutes later, the driver sat in the front seat and started the vehicle up again. He adjusted the rearview mirror and looked at Bruce. "Where to, sir?"

"Wayne manor," Bruce remarked. He grabbed a handful of hard candies from one of the glass jars across from him then sat back. The driver gave a hum as he started to drive off.

~

The ride was quicker than the billionaire had expected, though he guessed it went by fast because he was caught up on replying to texts and making a few business phone calls. Once the limousine pulled into the manor's driveway at 3 o'clock, Bruce hopped out before his driver could even open the door for him. He walked up the small amount of steps and used his master key to unlock the front doors. With a little push, they swung open and revealed Alfred wearing a striped blue and white party hat. In one of his hands, he held a matching helium balloon with the words Birthday Boy  on the back and front. The butler gave him a cheeky grin that Bruce couldn't help but to roll his eyes at.

"Happy birthday, Bruce."

"Gee, thanks Alf," he said sarcastically, though he was actually pretty happy. "What a way to make me feel young  again."

Alfred chuckled and tied the balloon around Bruce's wrist, then perched a party hat on top of his head. "I wanted to pick you up from the airport, but I still had some things to take care of here," the older man explained, patting his shoulder. He started to bring Bruce's luggage inside of their home as the limousine driver dropped them off at the top of the steps. The bachelor crossed his arms (well, attempted to. He slapped the balloon away from his face and struggled with the string when Alfred wasn't looking).

"Such as?"

"All I can say is: be decent before 8:30, sir."

"Please don't tell me you're throwing a party for me that is full of snobby rich strangers and old women."

"And what if I say those women aren't for you?"

"You sly dog."

"Oh please," Alfred scoffed. He placed the last suitcase near inside before closing the doors. "But yes, I am throwing a party," he confirmed.

Bruce sighed, starting to walk further inside of the manor. He looked around, uselessly looking for anything out of place. Minutes of aimless roaming flew by, according to one of the clocks hanging in the corridors, and he saw that it was only 3:23 PM. He had plenty of time until he had to start getting dressed for another event he never agreed to. And of course, he decided to spend that time in the depths of the Batcave, attempting to catch up on any activities he may have missed while he was away. 

Meanwhile...

"Where are you going?!" a woman cried out after her lover who stormed out the front door. Receiving no response, she hurriedly placed the warm bottle of milk on the counter and ran after him. She nearly tripped over a colorful piano for babies on the way out, but she managed to keep her balance at the sound of a roaring engine. The woman stood in the doorway yelling profanities over the sound of her baby's wailing. Her child was quickly starting to get anxiety from her absence, but she was too busy chastising her man about bringing drugs around their baby and always leaving when conflict started to arise. He didn't listen, instead he rolled down the window and called out that he loved her and their child before speeding down the block. "Y-You bastard!" she roared, tightly hugging her form. Being the only person screaming at the top of their lungs drew much attention from people walking by on the street, and she was not happy with it. She took another look around and saw some nosy neighbors peeking out of their doors and windows. Instead of making a bigger scene, she turned around and stomped back inside to tend to her little babe.

"I know, I know," she cooed, picking her daughter up from her giraffe themed walker. The baby continued to cry, though tears hardly formed in her [e/c] orbs.

The baby, Y/N L/N, is you. The man who left without bidding you goodbye and the woman attempting to calm you are are your biological parents.

As you can see, the family isn't as picket fence perfect as can be. Your father recently lost his job and has been in and out of the house at ungodly hours. You mother assumed that he was cheating, only to find out that he was caught up with selling drugs for some major drug lord. She feared that he would eventually wind up dead somewhere for not being able to make the money for whatever supplier he was working for. He feared that his family would end up living in their car or in some shitty motel if he didn't make the money they needed. Now, he received a phone call that had him cower away from his two favorite girls, grab a shoebox from behind the living room television, and haul ass. On top of all of that, you were stressed out because of all of the yelling your mother did and because you were just hungry.

You grasped your mother's hair/scarf/hijab as she rested your head on her shoulder and gently bounced you. Crying louder, you tried to tell her that you didn't want to be put to sleep, that you wanted to be fed. Fortunately for you, her eyes locked with the bottle she had prepared for you a couple of minutes ago and got the message. Your mother swiped up the bottle and sat down on the couch with you lying across her lap. She brought the bottle to your mouth and you instantly stopped crying in order to hold it and greedily drink up the warm milk. You looked to your mother and saw her quivering lip and watery eyes, but you weren't old enough to process her own symptoms of sadness.

"If he doesn't come home before 8:30, I'm going to find him and drag his ass, I mean... his tail... back home," she said, and it was a damn promise. Your mother continued occasionally lifting the bottle back up while you downed its contents and brought her attention to the T.V. The news channel was still on, though the volume was low. She rolled her eyes when Bruce Wayne denied having any children and failed to answer whether he considered having any. "He'll end up having someone's kid, I just know it." She grabbed the remote with her free hand and flipped through the channels until she saw Sesame Street playing. "Look, munchkin!" she effused. "You see Big Bird?" She forced a smile and pointed to the screen. You stopped drinking for a moment to catch your breath, only to return to chugging. 

The two of you remained that way for half an episode of the T.V. show for children before you finished your bottle. The empty container rolled onto the floor when you let go of it and started kicking your feet. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling for a little while, but fell upon your mother when she let out a snore. You stared longer, but eventually rolled onto your stomach and started climbing down her legs until you reached the carpet floor.

You wasted no time to begin happily crawling towards your piano with 5 keys. You were about to reach out to it when the inanimate object slid a couple of inches out of your reach. You had paused and looked back at your sleeping mother to see if she had moved your toy. When you looked back, you started approaching it again. Once again, the piano started sliding in the opposite direction, but this time it moved further away. You decided not to mess with it and turned around. This time, you crawled towards your light brown teddy bear with a pretty [f/c] ribbon tied around its neck. It was lying on its side with its back facing you. All you had to do was turn it over. You cautiously made your way over and luckily, it didn't slide away like your piano. You sat behind it and reached out for the bear with two small [s/t] hands.

Your mother was abruptly awaken by your siren-like wailing and tugging on her fingers. She looked down at you and saw you with squinted, glassy eyes leaning against her legs in order to stand. "What's the matter, pumpkin?" she asked with a frown, picking you up with ease. You didn't answer and she was almost sure that you didn't understand, yet she took your glance at the floor for a response. She pressed you to her chest and leaned forward to look at the floor. She was slightly disturbed to see the teddy bear your father bought for you sitting up with its head twisted backwards and its ribbon untied beside it.

Sitting back again, she gave you a confused look that you couldn't see since you were crying into her chest as if it were the end of the world. "Maybe you need a nap..." she suggested as she stood up and started walking to your room while rubbing your back. She hadn't even noticed the bruising around your neck.

~

"Master Bruce, it is 7:30 and I have pressed your outfit for the night," Alfred said as he stepped off of the platform that brought him down to the cave. He already knew that the man was stuck in front of the computer invading the city's privacy as he waited for any signs of disturbance. The Joker was still in Arkham, Riddler had been lying low since their last encounter, Ivy was still being contained in Blüdhaven, and everyone else was pretty much missing or locked up as well, meaning Bruce probably wouldn't be on patrol for long since nothing entirely challenging would be occurring. That also meant he'd be forced to stay at his party longer. "I'll be up in a minute, Alf," Bruce replied without sparing him a glance.

"Ah, but you said that half an hour ago, sir."

Bruce didn't have anything else to say to that because his close friend was right. He stared unblinkingly at the dim screen that he reloaded for the millionth time, wishing for a reason to put on the cowl. He tore his eyes away from the monitor at the feel of a hand on his shoulder. Alfred was giving him an expecting look that featured a raised brow and pouty lips. "May I advise that you quit stalling, sir?"

"I'm not stalling. Plus, it won't take me an hour to get dressed."

"Oh, I beg to differ. You waste 15 minutes asking if you look fat in every outfit you try on, 20 on changing, and 25 admiring yourself in the mirror."

"Screw you, Alfred," Bruce said with a frown as he stood at last. He brushed past the butler that has been practically raising him for years, and the both of them started making their way back inside of the manor.

It took 46 minutes to get ready for his event, only because Bruce was trying to prove his point that it doesn't take an hour for him to change. As they were on their way out, Alfred did another time check and saw that it was approaching 8:30. He inwardly swore and ushered the billionaire to the garage that held various expensive cars new and old. "Hurry, hurry!" he whisper-yelled for no particular reason. "Traffic is going to be terrible at this time as everyone tries getting where they need to be at once!"