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The Truth Behind His Life

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Summary: Xander discovers that he is much more than just the Zeppo.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > Batman > Xander-CenteredFaeryFR152833,08849777,32716 Oct 0815 Apr 14No

The Start of it All

Title: The Truth Behind His Life
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Batman
Word count: 883
Characters: Jack and Selena
DISCLAIMER: I do not, nor will I ever own Batman or Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I make absolutely no money on this.
AN: Now, this has been edited to death. I hear one complaint and you’re not getting an answer. That is all.

The history below is kinda mine, but it was hinted at in the comics when it came to the Joker. So I took it and used it, adding details.

Edited: September 10, 2012

*~*~*~*

The beginning was a dark night, before Batman came onto the scene, before there was a Superman and long before Spiderman swung his way into the hearts of the New York people. A man, his hair dark green and sickly looking, was snarling at a beautiful young woman, who could be no older then 18 years of age. The man himself looked no older then the woman.

“I can’t believe that we have to do this though,” the woman whispered softly, shifting a bundle in her arms. Looking down, she moved the blanket that wrapped around a child no more then a few days old and smiled sadly.

“I know, but neither of us is ready for a child. On top of that, I have a fiancé. I never should have slept with you in the first place,” the man growled, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his left eyebrow twitching in annoyance. “Come on, let’s get going. We have a long trip ahead of us and we need to tuck the kid into the back before the rain starts,” he told the dark haired woman, who sighed softly and nodded, getting into the car that they were standing by.

Moving around to the driver’s side door, the man slid in and started the car, making sure that the music was soft enough that it wouldn’t bother the babe in the back seat. The woman finally climbed in completely after buckling the child into his car seat. Settling down, she positioned a pillow behind her back and settled back into the seat, looking down at the child.

“Let’s do this,” she finally said, her voice twisted with resignation and sadness as she stroked over the head covered in soft brown fuzz. “I think, if I have to give him up, I’m going to name him.”

“What will you call him?” the man asked after pulling out onto the road, heading out of the city, his eyes glued to the road as rain poured down from the heavens. She sighed softly in return and continued to stare at the child.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted as the car drove onto the bridge leading out of Gotham city. The man looked in his rear view window and watches her as she pulled out a bottle to feed the fussing child. Turning his eyes back, he relaxed and continues to drive to the one city that was far enough away from Gotham that no one would connect them with their child.

It was three days later when they pulled up to the orphanage that they had chosen when they discovered she had been pregnant. It had a high adoption rate and was the best around and they knew that their child would do fine, even if he did grow up in the orphanage.

Walking up to the doors, they slipped into the main room and signed in, before moving to wait for the person they were there to see to come out. Sighing softly, they settled down, putting everything that they had for the child down around their feet. It included a diaper bag, several bottles, several canisters of powered baby formula and wet formula, clothes, a few toys, a few things for future years and a note that would be given to the child when the child was old enough to understand and not hate them for putting the child up for adoption.

Soon, they were being led back into a private office to fill out the forms and say their goodbyes. Making sure that everything that had come with the child was to stay with the child, they said their good byes, the man finally filling out the baby’s name on the birth certificate, something that would be given with the note.

“Alexander LaVelle. He shall take on his adoptive last name, so he can not be burdened with either of ours,” the woman said, handing the now named child over to a nice man that had helped them. Walking out of the orphanage and to the car, she turned to stare at the building and sighed, ignoring the fact that it was once more starting to rain around them.

“Selena, we need to go,” the man said softly, his eyes watching her closely as he desperately ignored a small voice telling him to bash her head in. He needed to take his pills, but first, she needed to get into the car and out of the rain.

“Coming, Jack,” she finally murmured and climbed in, Jack following close behind, taking his pill. “Do you really think that we did the right thing?”

“Yeah. At least now, he’ll be able to live a normal life. We don’t have to worry that he’ll turn into a psychopath or end up in one of the hundreds of gangs. He’s safe,” Jack replied, pulling away from the orphanage. ‘At least I hope so,’ he thought to himself, sending up what would turn out to be one of the last prayers that he ever said. He hoped his child was happy.

And that he wouldn’t hate them when he found out why he had been given up. Because really, who wanted a mother who had a boyfriend who was abusive and a father who was schizophrenic?
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