Chapter Text
Present day; February 21st 2064
Come on, do it. Make the move. Feed my hunger for victory. What are you waiting for? We don't have all damn day, I'm literally not getting any younger like this.
"Would you make the damn move, you Dickhead?" I ask with annoyance.
The old man across from me is smiling at me like he won the game of chess. We would already have a winner, if it weren't for him. God, I wanna wipe that wrinkly, white bearded smile of that old baboon's face. The sun all up on his face, showing off those freaking dentures.
"What? Scared I might come up with a move to beat you?" he taunts.
"No," I answer sour, "but it would be nice to finish this game before my own funeral."
"Haha," he laughs. "Always so impatient with me. You know, we may both be in our sixties and seventies, but you'll learn to love me one day."
"Hell would have to freeze over first," I mutter. Although, the hell hole I'm in right now is still freezing my neck off. "I'm only playing with you because the Genius is getting a bath and a brick wall would be better than to play with the Senior."
"That's true," he chuckles, "Bruce has the best pokerface I've ever seen. Even on said brick wall."
His hand lifts itself from his lap, takes a hold of one of his black chesspieces and moves it across the board. Finally!
"But really, if I annoy you that much, why won't you playing a game with Damian?" he asks.
I may be a bit slower than to how fast I used to be, but I still knock his piece over with my white little helper and wipe him off the board. A smug smile has made its way on my face.
"Checkmate, Dickhead. And do you remember the last time Damian and I played any type of game together?"
A look of realisation tells me he does. "Ah, yes. That little incident during bingo night. I can't believe you still managed to throw him through that wall."
"I haven't lost my tricks. Although you have lost yours, since you didn't even notice that your daughter has been standing behind for almost ten minutes now. Hello, Mar'i."
"Hello back at you," she greets me. "Dad, I see she has beaten you again." There's a soft laugh in her voice.
But before he can give her a proper answer, one of the nurses walks into the garden and towards us.
"Mister Grayson," the young man greets the man oppose of me, "may I be so rude to take this lovely lady to her loving daughter and grandchildren?" He always does this. And I hate to admit that it still makes me feel like there is hope for the future.
"Of course not," he replies with a wrinkly smile.
The nice nurse starts to wheel my way into the retirement home. We walk, or rather, I roll, into the elevator and go up the second floor. He rolls me to the small place I live in. He knocks on the door, since my family is already inside. We are greeted by the salt ocean blue and jade green eyes of my daughter Amaris-Carnelian. She tells the nice nurse that she can take it from here. And as she wheels me in, I'm getting piled under my grandchildren. All three of them.
"Nana!" the youngest, Jacy, yelled. He hugged me tight and was the first to sit on my lap. His brother Taranath and sister Cherise all surround me too. They're all hugging me, getting in my personal space. And I don't mind it one bit.
"Come on now, you're gonna kill your grandmother like this," my daughter says.
She rolls me to my chair, helping me sit in it aswell. Once I'm finally seated, the grandkids are surrounding me again. Jacy sits on my lap, Cherise takes a seat on the armrest and Taranath takes the other armrest.
Jacy is still holding onto me like his life depends on it. His little head with black, wavy hair is laying in my neck. His hair is tickling the crook of my neck. When he looks up at me with his blue eyes look at my own, I smile down at him and get a toothy smile in return. Although, there are two teeth missing since he's still in the process of getting his grown up teeth. A tug on my sleeve makes me turn my head to my left to see my granddaughter. Her green iris' are focused on my face and close when she leans in to snuggles up against my arm. Her long brown, wavy hair is getting in my face, but I just gently pat it down, while giving her a kiss on the head.
"Are you comfortable, jidd?" a voice on my right asks me.
I take a moment to look at Taranath. This handsome thirteen year old grandson of mine looks so much like his mother. His hair is the same dark brown and curly as hers. His skin as creamy like that of her. The same body built. Everything, except for the eyes. He only got the same salt ocean color as her right eye does.
"I am perfect right here, bakr," I tell him.
He holds my last free hand. Amaris-Carnelian comes walking back into the living room with tea. She pours some tea in one of the cups and puts it on the sidetable next to Cherise. Then she sits back in a chair opposite of mine and enjoys her own cup of tea. She flips through the channels and eventually settles on a news channel, I don't care which one. 'Cause all I'm looking at right now is my beautiful daughter. Her long hair falling back behind her shoulder, her legs pulled up against her chest and her hands holding the teacup firmly in her hands, trying to absorb its heat. After a minute or so of watching the news, she catches me watching her and smiles at me before returning her focus on the TV screen. My heart pours over from all the love I'm feeling for my family. These kids are the hope for the future.
"Hé mom," she suddenly says, "isn't that your first act when you came back to Gotham?"
"What are you talking about, my child?" I ask her. What is she talking about?
She points to the TV screen. The news anchor is talking about how today marks the 48th anniversary of when the city hall of Gotham was blown to pieces by a villian they later came to know as Blue Luna. The explosion killed mayor Sebastian Hady. The whole city was being in complete dispair.
"Ah yes, you're right, my dear," I say with a smile. "That Hady bastard had it coming."
"Mom, language, please. Your grandchildren are here," she exclaims.
I scoff at her attempt to sush me. "They've heard worse from their grandfather and the Dickhead."
Cherise turns her face to me, with a delighted look on it. "Isn't that how you and granddaddy met? Oh, please tell us the story again! Pretty please." she begs me.
I laugh at her eager face. Once my small laughter dies down, I see Amaris-Carnelian grabbing a big pillow and laying it down on the ground in front of my chair to sit on. Her face holds the same fascination as her daughter's face.
"You wanna hear the story too, walida?" Taranath asks his mother.
"Of course I do," she answers him, "I've always loved hearing this story. It always has and always will be my favourite story in the whole world."
"Okay then," I begin, "everyone ready?" They all nod their heads at me. "Alright. This story actually started from when I was a young child. But since I can't remember much from that time, I'll start at the date of February 21st, which is today, only 48 years back in the year 2016. That day would shock the entire city of Gotham, but it would also turn my whole world upside down on a crazy rollercoaster trip."