#TraumatizedMarthaCore

[mrs-martha-wayne]

" Y- You can’t remember what she looks like? Hey, just make something up! "

It’d been a little while since Martha learned of the many different universes and timelines -- in which she met an unfortunate end in most if not all of them -- and she’d be lying through the skin of her teeth if she said it didn’t bother her. How many poor boys grew up an orphan? How many Bruces and Juniors and other children lost their parents? How many lives were ruined because of the catalyst that was her and Thomas’ deaths. How many children can’t remember their parent’s faces?

Could Batman -- the modern timeline’s Bruce Wayne -- remember her face? Or did he have to use faded photographs of her to remember? Or was he an artist, who illustrated portraits of her everyday to keep her fresh in his mind? Did he adopt and raise his children in memory of her? Did he still celebrate Chanukah even though she was gone? Could he remember how to do the prayers in her absence? Or maybe, like many in grieving, did he burn all reminders of her, throw everything of hers away?

All of the tragedy to strike other universes was because of her. Because of some stupid pearls. Pearls she now wanted to tear from her throat and smash at her feet. But would that even do anything? What was done was done. Martha Wayne dies in almost every other universe. And in almost every other universe, it never ends well. She is a catalyst. A canon event. A domino effect. Her death spells tragedy for everyone else not even involved. And she blames herself for it. She hates herself for it. She knows what her death would mean for this timeline, so why does she feel like she doesn’t deserve to live in it?

So on nights like these where she couldn't quiet the thoughts haunting her mind, Martha would stand out on the balcony and stare off into the distance, listening to the sounds of the distant city she'd nearly died in. Sounds that used to be comforting, but now, all it took was for a distant shot to ring within her earshot for her crumble. One echoed shot. One loud bang.

And she's sobbing on the floor.