Lucan's eyes fluttered open, staring at a familiar-looking white ceiling. Shifting his gaze, he found himself in a patient's gown and lying on a small bed with bandages on his hands "Ugh, not this shit again."
Lucan had found himself in the hospital once again; he wasn't surprised. After all, with everything that happened, it would have been strange if he wasn't looked at; the only question he had on his mind at the moment was as to who was paying for all this.
The TV was on, and he could see the news; a blonde-haired reporter who called herself Vicki Bale was giving an incident report about the events that had happened in Willow Wood.
"Man, I don't even know what to say about this". He sighed and sank back into his bed; the news said Willow Wood had collapsed because of a sinkhole, and the poorly maintained structural integrity had caused the entire structure to almost collapse entirely.
Lucan sat there in thought, and then suddenly remembered something, or rather, someone: "Where's Polly?" he exclaimed, looking around frantically until one of the nurses noticed him and immediately rushed over.
"Calm down, you're safe here". The nurse attempted to soothe him, but Lucan only furrowed his brows and shot her an annoyed look.
"Where is Polly?" Lucan asked. The nurse tilted her head in confusion.
"Who's Polly? Is she a friend?" Lucan slammed his unbandaged hand on the bed in frustration as his voice cracked slightly.
"The red-haired little girl who was with me; if I'm here, she should be as well". The nurse had a pitying look in her eyes as she shook her head.
"You were the only one brought here, as far as I'm aware anyway, so why don't you get some rest first?" Lucan would have loved to keep insisting, but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he continued.
If he wanted to get anything done, he would have to wait until he could walk around.
Over the past three days, he had talked to the doctors who had asked him some questions about what had happened at the orphanage. While he felt the urge to tell the truth, being moved into another health care situation would not be ideal for him.
Most of his bandages were taken off, except the ones around his chest and ribs; he had gotten several small scars along his body. There was also the metabolic shock from being locked up in that room.
Overall, he was healthy for someone who had just been almost buried alive barely four days ago.
***
He was sitting on one of the chairs outside the hospital and looking at the fields with interest. Gotham could be a really bright place when you weren't limited to a haunted house in the middle of nowhere.
A man sat down next to him, their body smelling of cigarettes and caffeine, a fairly disgusting blend to have your nose bear witness to early in the morning. "Hey, how are you doing?"
Lucan lazily turned his head and looked the man over: red hair which was already starting to grey with a messy combover, stubble, dark circles under his eyes and rectangular glasses in a brown trench coat, the very spitting image of someone who did not spend time in a hospital.
"You with the police?" he asked. The man, who seemed to have choked upon hearing the question, patiently waited for his coughing fit to end and for the man to steady himself.
"Has anyone approached you before?" He asked, a bit of concern in his tone, which made Lucan smile a bit as he shook his head.
"No, you're the first one", he shrugged slightly "It was a natural disaster, right? So unless you're secretly a social service worker… you're not actually a social service worker, are you?" He leaned closer to the man with an inquisitive look on his face.
The man offered an awkward smile but slowly shook his head, relaxing back into the chair with his head tilted back slightly, gazing into the distance. He asked somberly, "So what do you want?"
Finally getting a chance to speak, the middle-aged redhead cleared his throat "Well, I wanted to ask about what actually happened that night". Lucan gave the man an odd look.
"Heh, what really happened, huh? Well, it wasn't a sinkhole; I'll tell you that. As for anything else? Sorry, but I'm too scared," he shook his head, his tone lifeless.
"And what exactly is it that scares you?" The middle-aged man asked, a wry smile appearing on his lips.
"What happened to the other children? More than half are missing, presumed dead; the rest are either permanently comatose, dead or can no longer be functional members of society in any way, shape or form" he took a breath, tears welling up in his eyes. "What am I supposed to do now?"
The red-haired man scratched the back of his neck and turned away, not knowing what to say to comfort him 'Yeah, there's really nobody left now, Bradley, Polly, it's just me, once again"
Back in his former world, he had only become as popular as he was because due to the fact his parents never had any time for him; with no one at home, he had grown to love spending more time outside with others.
He hated being alone.
But that was precisely what he was now, all alone, not a single person to turn to; perhaps this was part of the so-called curse that thing had placed on him. It was such a strange thing, to think he would never be able to interact with those people ever again.
After the long silence, the man had eventually stood up with a groan, digging his arm into his coat pocket and pulling out a small card and handing it over to him.
Lucan eyed the outstretched card piously. "If you ever need help, or want someone to talk to, you can just give the number on that card a call, and I'll do my best".
"How kind", taking the card in his hands, he nodded to the man who only gazed at him with pity as he walked away. Lucan sighed, contemplating if he should just toss the card or shred it; he didn't want anyone to die just because he wanted to do the right thing.
***
Lucan was soon discharged and was to be handed over to another orphanage in central East Gotham, where he would hopefully grow out of this disaster and become a better person, you know, the usual propaganda.
The person in charge of his transfer had been none other than the scruffy-looking policeman who had come to see him previously; he would spend a day with them before everything would be finalized, and he would find a proper family.
"It's not much, but make yourself comfortable". The scruffy man said, ushering him; thanks to Polly's wonderful demolition work, he didn't actually have any belongings anymore, with the sole exception of whatever he was wearing that day.
He sank into the sofa and exhaled, allowing his body and mind to relax somewhat when he heard a sound. Turning his head, he saw a red-haired girl with freckles in some jeans and a small blue shirt looking at him curiously; soon she pointed a finger at him and asked: "Who are you?"
Her tone was snarky, like she was addressing an intruder who had broken into her home and eaten her favorite snacks.
Lucan frowned 'How charming. He thought, yawning and sitting up properly in the chair to look her in the eye "I…am…Nobody, I guess", he would have normally said something else, but he wasn't really feeling it right now.
The red-haired girl just stared at him for a few seconds and then rolled her eyes "Whatever, weirdo; I'll just ask my dad". She stomped off, while he just sighed; he felt tired, mentally anyway. He had no idea what would happen next.
Those transmigration protagonists are always so smart and perfect that nothing seems to bother them; they just kept soldiering on, already knowing their next move 'I guess that's why those are just stories'
He curled up on the chair, hugging his knees,
Reality had proven to him that even in a world where heroes save the day, people would still become collateral damage, people would still die, and people would get hurt; he wasn't a detached and aloof reader who would simply shrug off the number of lies lost in favor of the overall result.
He was one of the numbers now.
***
Having spent the night on the sofa after refusing Gordon's offer, mostly on the suspicion it would smell like cigarettes, in which case he would much prefer the sofa, it was better than nothing anyway.
With today being the day he would be dropped off at the orphanage, he had breakfast with them, the red-haired girl staring at him in silence, but her eyes burning with curiosity "So… um, you're from the news about the place that collapsed. What really happened there?"
Lucan raised an eyebrow "You don't trust the news?" he asked flatly, and she shook her head.
"I'm nine, not stupid; they didn't even show a close-up of the wreckage". Lucan shrugged, a hint of amusement finding its way to his eyes.
"I guess this is what people mean by not believing everything you see on TV?" She nodded in excitement and extended a hand over the table for a handshake.
"I'm Barbara. My dad already told me your name". Lucan glanced at the scruffy policeman and shook Barbara's hand.
"Nice to meet you too". After a brief shake, she let go and withdrew her hand, tilting her head slightly.
"You talk kinda old, it's funny". Lucan was stunned; no one had ever really said anything was wrong with how he talked before.
The two then continued to talk, or well, Barbara talked, and he just nodded his head, occasionally saying something to add to the conversation every five sentences until it was afternoon.
The coming of the afternoon signaled the end of his stay here, as it was time for him to be transferred to his new orphanage where he would hopefully find someone else to take care of him at least until he could do it himself.
He hated it,
Well that would be too strong a word really, he didn't hate it, the place was simply uncomfortable for him here in this place managed by the sheer generosity of Wayne Enterprises and all its associates. He didn't quite fit in; the children there all looked at him strangely.
They were hard to communicate with or even tolerate; even the adults would occasionally give him wary glances and would avoid anything related to him as best they could, they were good people and they were doing their best, which was why he found it so irritating.
It was only now he understood how unique Willow Wood was; for all its creepiness and strange practices, it was a place where he could genuinely just act like himself; there he was just another kid, nothing more and nothing less; here he was just something strange.
Oddly being isolated didn't feel too bad, he even thought it was better this way, he had allowed himself to get too attached to the people in willow wood, he had to treat them with the same indifference he would have as a reader. 'I should probably leave Gotham first'.
Staying in this physical manifestation of hell is, can't, and will never be healthy, just like when he had first arrived he was still of the strong opinion he should leave, just now he had more personal reasons, he was still afraid, but now he just wasn't only afraid of dying. He was afraid of becoming twisted.
He had heard about how this city made people into madmen, and now that he was here personally, he wasn't willing to pay the price to find out if it was true, he didn't think he could take another willow wood.
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.