You were a fucking menace. Everyone knew it. Smoking, arson, drinking, stealing cars, breaking into convenience stores in the early hours of morning, every chance you got you'd make life harder for someone. The entire police force knew of you, they had arrested you several times, tried to charge you with something, but every singly goddamn time you would get by scot free, all because of your father.

Born into a family of crime, drugs and booze were commonly scattered around the house. Your dad 'loved' you, said he did at least, never spent time with you, but 'loved' you enough to get you out of bail and threaten to burn the police station down if they arrested you again. Then he'd go back to whatever the fuck he was doing, smoking and beating the shit out of anyone who looked at him wrong. It wasn't hard to see where you got your attitude from, but for some reason no one saw it. No one until Bruce. The night air was freezing as Bruce went out on patrol, cloaked in the colours of Gotham's dark, polluted skies. As soon as he heard a car alarm blaring he knew quickly to investigate, and who else would he find besides you, crowbar in hand smashing in the side of a random car on the side of the street.