Chapter Text
From an alleyway in the theatre district of Gotham city, ringing gunshots pierced through the midnight noise of passing crowds before the tearing scream of a young boy cut through it all over again. Three blinding muzzle-flashes obscured the man responsible before he took off into the night, leaving the boy clutching his own body in agony. Firmly, his hand pressed against the blooming spread of blood from his chest as it trickled over his fingers and dripped to the cold asphalt. Shallow gasps of breath rose from his throat as he dropped to his knees in the pool that surrounded him, mother and father laid either side with powder-residue holes that matched his own.
From below his hand, a hum of faint, golden orange light began to glow, originating from his very core and gathering within his mortal wound. It illuminated the dank alleyway, glistening on the rain and blood-soaked concrete, with woven strings of amber growing from his chest before it erupted into a powerful burst of regenerative energy concentrated inside the bullet wound that had spread crimson throughout through the young boy’s shirt. As it grew, a shock-wave of pure force burst out, and with it, a pillar of light shot up into the sky like a beacon as it pulsed and flowed where the bullet had pierced through his skin, shattering every glass streetlamp and window in its wake. An inhuman energy coursing through his soul, the air was whisked from his lungs as he screamed into the empty air where his voice echoed from the walls around him, going until his throat went numb. He felt his body being torn apart and remoulded while his conscious mind experienced the pulse of every nerve ending as they twisted and snaked under his skin, too aware of the individual reconnections of fresh tissue as it bonded together.
It hurt, it hurt so much. Tears ran down his face, evaporating in the radiating heat as his pained shriek of his grief carried through the district like the wail of a banshee. His body felt like it was changing. His mind cried out, fighting against it. Escaping death once was enough, he didn’t want to disappear, be replaced by someone that wasn’t him. Everything flashed before his eyes, burning memories, everything all at once as he clung onto them. Time spent with his mother and father, the first word he ever spoke, the laughing and smiles of his birthdays and blowing out the candles of a cake made for far too many people that he could only recall the basic features of. He recalled days spent walking in the park with them, running through blooming flowers and kicking up crisp autumn leaves. A scene of his first snowfall, pure white flakes dotting his coat as he stuck his tongue out to catch them, cold fragments of ice melting to fresh water in his mouth.
Another flashed by his eyes, he and his father at a telescope pointed out into the stars late at night, watching streaks of light twinkle through the dark night sky, falling into the horizon past the trees and skyscrapers. Names of constellations were pointed out to him, ones that he couldn’t recall, ones that were in the vast depths of the cosmos. How he had stayed awake to watch the soft glowing light of the following sunrise, rubbing his eyes and yawning before collapsing onto his bed. Memory after memory until it hit a black void.
Bruce Wayne, the Son of Gotham. Born, and died, and born again.
Everything burned and healed and burned once more, veins racing like a primordial wildfire had taken hold of him, sweeping forth and incinerating him from the inside out, a phoenix rising from the ashes. Rainwater poured over him, catching in the back of his mouth and bringing him back to the solid ground beneath his knees, a splutter and cough forced it out again like he was choking on his own breath. The blazing light weakened as he found the energy to breathe and move again, fading away and leaving him clutching his chest with the remains of the agony he once felt now growing faint. Rapidly, his hands patted his chest, feeling for the scorched hole that had taken his life, only finding the one that had ripped through his shirt. Beneath, his skin was raw like a graft, sending a shock of pain through him to the touch, still healing even now. Within the puddle of blood that surrounded him a glint of metal cut through the deep red hues, lead stained with his life. The very same lead that had pierced through his parent’s hearts. Reaching down, he plucked the bullet from the ground with his fingertips, the one that had tried to take his breath and failed, tightly curling his hand around it to keep it safe while he shivered in the unrelenting rain. Rattling echoes resonated around him from high above, his breath shook and his head alertly turned to survey the alley.
‘Hello?’ His quiet, hoarse voice called to whatever had caused the noise, nothing replied but his instincts refused to settle. Another rattle, like a metal can being kicked down some stairs before it hit a wall. Within the corner of his eye, a shadow shifted with only the moonlight to highlight the presence of an onlooker perched upon a metal staircase. Creaking steel, pattering steps. Impact of feet landing on the ground. From the single beam of moonlight that broke through the clouds, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the quiet swish of a long tail as whatever it was connected to darted from one side of the street to the other. Illuminated eyes stared out at him from a distant pool of shadow, a reflective green that unblinkingly focused in his direction. Then in a blink, it grew closer, staying in the dark all the while, unflinchingly looking into his own eyes. He never ran away, or inched back, his startled eyes staring back into the darkness at what lurked within.
‘Please...Not again...I can’t. I don’t have anything!’ He pleaded with the shadow as it came into the light once more. Vulnerable and terrified, he could see it clearer though it didn’t utter a word, tilting what he presumed was its head curiously at him with a hood obscuring its features, two points poking up from its top. One of them twitched, turning to angle itself to their surroundings like it was listening to the world around them, then it held a clawed finger up to quiet him as it studied the sounds of the city. After a moment, it pulled its hood down, the moonlit shine of black leather giving way to dark brown fur, patterned like a brown and black tabby, the slits of its eyes widening to circles as it looked closer at him in the low light. A cat. This was a...a cat...person; with a pink nose and two pointed teeth poking out from its top jaw, bright green eyes checking him over. Bruce stared back at it, unmoving except for the single tear that rolled down the side of his cheek.
‘Hey. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.’ The cat spoke quietly to him with the voice of a young girl,a voice that he could understand, almost the same age as him. Her ears flattened against her head, reaching a hand out that he recoiled from, ‘I saw what happened and...’ Her voice trailed off, and Bruce didn’t speak, he only lifted his head to look down the street. Her own ears pricked up again at the sound of sirens in the distance, nowhere close to them, for better or worse, then looked back to him as he curled around himself with his mother’s pearls scattered across the ground around him and removed her jacket, kneeling down to gently wrap it around his shoulders. It wasn’t much, but it warmed him a little.
‘You look like you could use it more than me right now.’ She said to him, sounding unsure if he would even want to communicate with her. He looked at her again and nodded. Both of them sat in the rain, which was starting to wash away the red stain into the nearest grate, and shivered until she beckoned him over to the fire exit staircase that she had been perched upon and they sat side by side, huddled out from under the relentless downpour.
‘You’re a cat.’ Bruce spoke, after a short silence, his voice still scared and barely audible, trying to piece the blur of everything that had happened tonight together. Her fur was frizzy from the rain, different shades of earthy brown all the way through to tiny strands of dark blonde; eyes trying their hardest not to look dangerous while she wasstill on-edge and vigilant about everything around them. She nodded back at him with a slight smile.
‘Yeah, I am. Bet you’ve never seen someone like me before.’ She said to him, and he shook his head. All he had ever seen were human beings and pets. But, thinking on it, she wouldn’t be out of place in one of his father’s stories of his travels and encounters away from home. He had come up with the most curious and eccentric of characters that were so detailed he sometimes wanted to ask if they were real. They must have been, if he was meeting one of them in person. How much of the city had he been unaware of until now?
‘Not really.’ Bruce hummed, hands gripping the edges of the jacket, knuckles turning white and cold, ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you…want me to stay?’ The cat asked, and, ever so slightly, Bruce nodded his head.
‘Call me Cat. Hey, don’t look at me like that! I know, I know, but it’s what I go by out here, that’s all.’
‘I didn’t…’ He trailed off, ‘Bruce. Bruce Wayne.’ he said, ‘It’s nice to meet you.’
‘You’re really giving me your actual name, huh.’ Cat’s mouth flicked a surprised and mildly endeared smile. Bruce wondered if she knew that he could see her hide it, ‘Do you need anything?’
‘No.’ Bruce replied, bringing his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around them while the wind whipped past them, bringing with it crumbling brown leaves and a close sound of wailing sirens, ‘I don’t know. I haven’t…it’s never happened before.’
Cat softly shuffled closer to him, the soft fur under her jacket lightly warming his side as she wrapped an arm around him. Bruce could feel the adrenaline washing from his veins, slowly grounding himself again, feelings swirling in his head. Everything went together somehow, he just had to make it fit. He narrowed his eyes as Cat looked him over once more, not with worry, but with curiosity.
‘So, why were you out here?’ She asked, ‘Went somewhere fancy?’ She gestured a paw at his evening wear, now tainted with a bloom of drying blood on his chest that would never fade from his thoughts.
‘The theatre. My parents took me to see the opera. It was quicker walking home this way.’
‘Oh.’ Cat responded, ‘That’s...weird. Usually, stuff like this doesn’t happen out here. I guess there’s a first time for everything. If he was mugging your mom and dad, he should have left after they gave up what he wanted.’ She spoke quieter, out loud to herself, gaze angled at the ground in thought.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing, it’s nothing I was just...’ Cat quickly answered and waved a dismissive paw, ‘Forget I said anything. None of my business.’ Her leg bounced up and down as her boot tapped the sidewalk, ‘Why are they being so slow? As much as I’m their least biggest fan, the police sure are taking their sweet time getting here.’
‘I thought I heard them earlier, It sounded like they were coming.’ Bruce leaned forwards, looking down the straight line of the alley, nobody had come down in the last few minutes, the sirens that had blared vanishing from the sound of the city entirely as if it had silenced itself in the face of a tragedy. Tilting his head up at the dark grey clouds that had rolled over the city, greater in number than on a regular day, he stared at a statue perching on the edge of a building; the carved face of a gargoyle leered down at him, its sharp owl-like features looking right through him, impish clawed hands gripped over the lip of the awning it watched over. No comfort to be found as streaks of chilled, smog-filled droplets poured from its open beak into the guttering.
‘Those statues are creepy,’ Cat’s voice said, snapping him back to her, ‘They’re all over the city, especially the old buildings. City Hall, the public library, hell, even the police station has the things on it. I don’t know what it is about them…’
‘Like they’re watching you?’
‘Yeah. Like they’re watching everyone.’
While the city’s surface was marred by torrential rain that showed no sign of dispersing until the break of next dawn, its underground was alive with activity unseen by the watchful eyes that cast their gaze upon it. Within an old chamber beneath the docks, a disused storage unit that had been carved out of the thick layers of rock, a team of individuals were restlessly working to track signals — scanning beyond the layers of stars that human eyes could see with technology the ordinary person could never begin to understand. Beyond the capabilities of the Gotham City Police Department, with aims separate to their own, a long-forgotten, still-functioning branch of the organisation known as Torchwood. While its other bases had been made defunct years ago, this one had been small and irrelevant enough not to be remembered by those responsible for closing it down, with funding from an alternate, anonymous benefactor allowing it to stay running.
Its newest recruit, James Gordon, formerly a detective from the Gotham City Police’s homicide department, now working from beneath their notice as one of Torchwood’s operatives, was watching over a bank of monitors scrolling with waveforms and tremor readings, situated around a tall pillar of glass and thick wire mesh that ebbed with a constant flow of prismatic light, known as the Rift, or a fragment of it after the main one had cracked and split across the globe. A towering structure, it stretched up into the ceiling and further still. Spikes appeared here and there on the constantly active readings but from what he had been told by Harvey Bullock, the group’s designated leader whom Jim had been assigned to as a work partner while he acclimatised to their world and way of working, that was normal activity similar to background radiation. Harvey had less than expected to tell him how the job worked, instead relying on Jim’s field experience shadowing him on cases and investigations for him to learn.
It was nothing out of the ordinary and all together showing stable measurements. Around him, the rest of the team worked, friendly chatter mingled with the sounds of humming, beeping machinery, casual conversation taken up whilst monitoring the city from within its heart, quiet songs playing through the radio to make the place feel less like a cold chamber below the river — along with a small crumpled piece of paper hurled across the room to smack Harvey on the back of the head as he overlooked the place.
‘Ow! What the hell?’ Harvey rubbed the spot where the paper had lightly hit him, turning to find both of the medical staff attempting not to laugh, and failing that, covering the bottom half of their faces with paperwork and clipboard they were holding.
‘No! Don’t look at me like that! It was his idea!’ The first voice to reply was from Lee, one of the team members responsible for analysing any human or inhuman remains that they came across on their various cases. Prior to joining the team, she also worked within Arkham Asylum’s medical wing, treating its inmates and attempting to provide them with care under dire circumstances and their own psychoses. Whenever their investigations would drag them back to the institution, which was happening more frequently as of late, she would be the first to volunteer to go, knowing its layout like the back of her hand.
‘You said that you wanted to get his attention!’ The second voice, Edward, replied to her, trying to explain himself. He was their other medical staff: autopsy technician and forensic scientist, and was her junior in occupation, only taking over if she was out on a case. Although right now he seemed to be stuck as the errand boy for Lee and Harvey. As far as Jim was aware, Edward was the newest member of the team before he came along.
‘By calling for him, maybe!’ Lee rebuked, as Harvey went over to the medical bay, an area at the back of the base where a reappropriated autopsy table had been fitted alongside a steel tray of equipment. Jim followed behind shortly after, stepping up onto the balcony above to lean on the railings while the others spoke, listening intently.
‘Alright, alright. What do you two want?’
‘We might have figured out what caused the death of our Jane Doe from yesterday’s...encounter down at the bay. You know with the...’
‘The fish thing that crawled up from the bay...right.’ Harvey replied in a “don’t remind me” tone of voice, and as Lee made to speak, Edward jumped in before she had a chance to utter a word, and she shot him a mildly frustrated glare, like she was already running out of patience with him which made Jim wonder just how much of a nuisance he’d been to her already.
‘So, it turns out that she had all of the moisture drained from her body, like someone took a straw and just sucked it right out of her! Oh, and the blood too. Yum.’ Edward explained their findings with an eerily too pleasant smile. Jim overheard them and could only think: “At least someone was enjoying their work”.
‘...Anyway, the puncture wounds on her neck? Teeth marks. They go down to the arteries, unsurprisingly.’ Edward explained, as Lee passed Harvey an enlarged photograph of the wounds.
‘There are little holes on the inside of those wounds, best guess is some kind of secondary tooth attached to the main one.’ Lee surmised, as best she could, ‘This is the first time we’ve seen anything like it, so I can only assume what it looks like.’
‘If you say “fish vampire” I swear to God.’ Harvey remarked, pointing a finger at Edward, who jumped back slightly, shrinking away from him.
‘Wouldn’t be the strangest thing we’ve seen in this city.’ Lee commented in his stead while he skittered off back to the computers on the other edge of the room, taking Jim’s focus while he tracked Edward’s movements back into the corner before snapping back to the ongoing discussion between Harvey and Lee, ‘Also, yes. Fish vampire would be an...accurate assessment.’ She sounded as fed up with that answer as Harvey was. Jim noted that encounters like this were fairly common at this point, especially being so close to the docks. Creatures crawled out to terrorise the fishermen and dockworkers, then they arrived to, politely speaking, push the horrors from the depths back in. Actually, in his experience, all they had to do was ask politely and solve a few communication issues between the two groups and everything was fine again.
‘So, are we going back to get it, or?’ Jim spoke, leaning forward so that he was looking down on them slightly.
‘Nah, the thing lives there, probably on the other side of the river by now. Or it’s under you-know-who’s protection. Knowing our luck, that thing works for her and then its a whole other problem that I don’t want to deal with.’ Harvey dismissed him, ‘That everything?’
‘Pretty much.’ Lee concluded, taking off the latex gloves she was wearing and throwing them into a nearby receptacle, stifling a yawn. They had all been here since the early hours of the morning, more than ready to get even a minute of sleep.
‘Then there’s no point in hanging around here all night.’ Harvey grabbed a shabby-looking coat that was hanging from the back of a chair from a particularly untidy workstation, before calling out to everyone present, ‘All right, everyone, pack it up, nothing else to do this evening so—’ Before he could finish his sentence, a shrill warning alarm blared throughout the Hub that made everyone hurry to check the various screens and monitors littered about the place. Waveform readings spiked with an external energy, wireframe maps pinpointing a dot with radiating circles in the high-end part of the city.
‘Oh for God’s sake! Get eyes on it, now!’ Harvey yelled, and almost instantly, a gritty, black-and-white CCTV recording flashed up on the closest screen.
‘Damn it.’ Harvey muttered aloud to himself.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jim enquired, coming to stand beside him, studying the footage with him, wide-eyed at what he was witnessing, ‘The hell?’ His eyes transfixed on the footage repeating itself, the recorded image of a boy engulfed by blinding white flares of fire before the camera lens was burned out entirely from the explosion.
‘And here I thought we were done for the night.’ Harvey replied, while the others pulled on coats and jackets and prepared to head out, picking up small devices from a clear plastic table printed with white grid lines, ‘Guess we still have work to do.’
Cat had gently persuaded Bruce over to the staircase she had been perching on, both sat lower down as he explained what had happened, breathing calmer than before, but his body still shivered, both with shock and the lingering chill of the rain.
In the entrance to the street, tires rolled and screeched to a halt. But, instead of a standard police car, what had come for Bruce was a blacked-out van with sliding doors and a group of people inside — two men and a woman. The man that had emerged first had a stern look to him, approaching the crime scene with a detective’s eye. The other man was older than him, greying hair starting to pepper his head. He was gruffer, more unkempt than the first, although they appeared to be used to working with each other, he was giving the other two orders. Bruce overheard heard the word ‘partner’ be said, like how those in the police force worked together. The last was a woman with long, black hair. She had a kind and calm face, professional. In her hand, she held a blocky device that had started beeping at regular intervals, pointing up at the street lights nearby which Bruce had only now noticed had been shattered, tiny glass fragments littering the street. Some of them crunched under the boots and shoes of the adults that approached himself and Cat, the sudden cracking flinching him backwards to press against the staircase.
‘They’re already here?’ Cat spoke to herself, scrambling to her feet at the sight of them, the tip of her tail brushing against Bruce’s side, ‘They’re the “people” I told you about. They look out for the ones like me and you in the city. The boss is pretty relaxed, doesn’t care what we do as long as we’re not, like, hurting anyone. To be honest, I don’t think he would care either way. Just tell them what you told me.’ She explained as the detective looked over in their direction. His sternness dropping entirely, giving way to concern as he saw Bruce huddled around himself and chilled to his core on the steps; vision turning to the bodies on the cobbles nearby and putting two-and-two together.
‘Hey, Lee.’ Jim called over to his associate, ‘Do we have any blankets in the back?’
‘I’ll see what’s there.’ Lee replied, sliding open one of the van’s doors and stepping back inside, several minutes later, emerging back out holding a long ream of brown fabric, ‘No blankets, but there is one of your coats.’ She said to him, before placing a finger up to her ear as the police sirens sounded from down the street, ‘Hey, can you tell the GCPD to lay off for now? We’ve got it covered. Yes, I’ll tell you if we find anything interesting.’ She replied, exasperated, to whoever was on the other end.
‘Nygma asking you to bring him back samples again?’ The older man asked her, with a tone that suggested it was a common enough occurrence, ‘Should’ve just let him come with us.’
‘One of us had to stay behind to watch over the place, although I dread to think what he’s doing with the medical bay. Last time we got back from a case, he was performing a dissection by himself.’ Lee replied, while she handed the coat over. The detective nodded his head over at Bruce while he took it from her, and Lee went on to collect samples and evidence from the scene.
‘Thanks for looking after this one, Selina.’ He greeted the cat, as if he were relieved that she had found him, as opposed to anyone else in the city. So that was her real name, thought Bruce as the detective turned his attention onto him, ‘What happened here?’ He enquired, wrapping the bigger coat around Bruce. It fitted enough like a blanket for the man to be satisfied and Bruce could feel its thicker material warming him. Bruce stayed silent, his hand slowly uncurling from a fist to hold out the bullet shell in his trembling hand, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Under the palm of his hand, a soft light still glowed and swirled. Jim was transfixed by it, unlike anything he’d seen before. It wasn’t the same as the Rift’s shifting rainbow of hues, this was a vivid, shimmering gold that outlined the young boy’s veins.
‘Did something do that to you?’ Jim stepped back, wary of what was pulsing inside the boy’s bloodstream, how powerful it seemed. Bruce shook his head again, his eyes blinking slowly as if he were trying to stave off sleep, fatigue beginning to set in. He hadn’t realised just how tired he was after having his entire body revived from the brink of death.
‘I’ve never seen it before, but It saved me when…’ He turned to look over his shoulder, back at the pool where his parents laid, but Jim gently caught his face, stopping him from seeing it all over again. Bruce didn’t know why, he had been there, he watched it happen, what did he think he was protecting him from now that it was all over?
As he had kept it for the authorities, Bruce slowly uncurled his clenched fist, where the bullet he had been holding on to had retained his body heat, close to glowing, ‘They shot me too.’
Jim looked like his own heart had skipped a beat, swallowing a breath of dread and barely disguised unease at what had unfolded this night.
‘We should really get you checked out. It’ll be easier if we take you back with us, we can get you warm, safe, and see what’s going on with you with the equipment we have back at base.’
‘I—’ Bruce started to speak, and Jim held a hand out for him to get him to come along, and the ball of shadow perched beside him sprang to life.
‘His parents are dead and you want to run tests on him? I thought you were better than this, Detective Gordon.’ The hackle on the back of Selina’s neck raised suddenly, pupils sufficiently narrowed enough to visibly unnerve Jim as they shone in the midnight, Bruce could see the split-second flinch pass over him, ‘You want to do something useful for him? Find out who did this.’ Selina told him with a tranquil fury, never raising her voice, prodding a finger into his chest.
‘We will. But you know full well that this is how we operate, we take him back first. We need to get him out of the street in case whoever killed his parents comes back to finish the job. But if it’ll reassure you that we aren’t going to hurt him, you’re welcome to follow us.’
‘Alright, maybe I will. Not like I don’t know the way in.’ She replied, still on-guard over Bruce, still tensed up and quietly judging Jim while he returned to Bruce, explaining where, exactly they would be taking him. His guardian, whomever that may be, would be called after they returned to the base under the docks. Bruce nodded along, understanding what they were saying to him, but without asking questions. Part of him was just waiting for all of this to be over, tired and grieving as Jim led him back to the black, unmarked van where Harvey and Lee were waiting, as Selina followed along.
‘You getting in too, Cat?’ Harvey called through the driver’s seat window to Selina as she stood next to the vehicle, seeing Bruce off, in her own way, ‘Might as well, looks like the weather isn’t getting any better.’
‘Sure,’ Selina hopped into the open side door before Jim closed it and sat in the front passenger seat, Lee sat behind them both, looking through a grate that separated the front of the van from the back.
‘You okay back there?’ Lee called through it to them after a little while of travel, as they sat on a seat that faced the back doors and all of the equipment they had stuffed into the back on racks and shelves bolted to the inside.
‘Yeah.’ Selina eventually replied on behalf of both of them, as Bruce drifted in and out of falling asleep again, eyes slowly closing with the motion of the van, only to suddenly blink awake a few moments later as if he was refusing to let himself rest.
‘I’ve always liked her more ‘cause she’s actually nice to me. Helped me out a couple of times after I hurt myself while...out.’ Selina said to him as he woke himself up again, ‘I don’t know how she got roped into the shadiest group on this side of the mainland, well, I think I have an idea.’ She gestured her hand while Bruce had his full attention on her.
‘What do you think happened?’
‘I think that she saw something she wasn’t meant to, and they gave her a choice. Either stay and help them, or—‘
‘That’s not what happened, Selina.’ Lee said from the other side of the grate with an amused chuckle at her imagined situation.
‘Then how’d you end up working with them?’
‘I was working with a patient at Arkham and they showed up looking for something. That something happened to be my patient and here we are.’
‘You’re not gonna tell the rest of that story?’ Selina complained, visibly disappointed in not hearing it.
‘Maybe another day.’
Eventually, after a length of time that Bruce had lost track of, they arrived at the...base that Jim and his company worked out of. A stronger wind blew as he looked over the harbour, distant ships moving in and out of bringing deliveries from the mainland. All that surrounded them were abandoned warehouses and the stray metal container left behind from shipments, nothing out of the ordinary, no buildings that could possibly be considered their main premise of operations.
‘This way.’ Jim said to him, nodding his head at a singular door that was inlaid in a wall down a set of steps by the shipyard, an innocuous side door that he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him. A door that led to an elevator with a wire grate along its front. Jim slid it open and they hopped in. Its old gears and chains ground together as it moved, its light being a pair of illuminated strips fitted to the roof. The old machine rattled as it moved
‘So, is there anyone we can call for you, anywhere you can go once everything’s settled?’ Jim asked him, filling in the silence that had fallen over them as the elevator travelled deeper down, ‘Sorry, I know it’s a lot for you.’
‘My family’s butler. His...His name is Alfred, he’ll look after me.’
‘Good.’ Jim’s face had fallen to a line that he picked back up into an unsure smile as Bruce looked at him, ‘That’s good.’
‘What are you going to do with me, exactly?’
‘Like I said earlier, we’re going to check you over for anything unusual, lasting injuries, stuff that isn’t normal. Then we’re going to need you to answer some questions to help us understand what happened back there. It’s our job to investigate this kind of thing even if the police don’t, or don’t want to.’
‘You think they won’t?’
‘Did you see any of them around after it happened? Someone most likely reported it, sure, but nobody came before we showed up, right?’
‘That’s right.’ Bruce curled his fingers, ‘Why, do you think it’s important.’
‘Depends on whether this is a coincidence or not.’
‘What do you—‘ Bruce began to say, interrupted by the short ding that chimed from the elevator as it reached the bottom of the shaft, opening to the main chamber of the base that left Bruce in awe as he stepped out into it, looking up at the ceiling that stretched up into an impenetrable darkness so far below ground; there was worn white paint on the walls signalling the distance but he couldn’t make it out. Computers beeped and monitors slowly pulsed with readings and pictures, one had a map of the whole island with red dots that pulsed every few seconds that he felt drawn to, before he was taken to the medical bay where Selina was waiting with Lee for him. She was perched on an upper platform, on the wrong side of the bars with her legs dangling over the edge. Lee had a vitals monitor with a bunch of cables set up, as well as some devices that Bruce didn’t recognise, giving him a pleasant, professional smile as he came up to the table.
With his permission, she stuck wires with pads on the end over his body, which the machine beside him began to make noise upon their attachment, a wave showing his heartbeat and other important functions. He wasn’t sure how to read them, but from her note-taking she didn’t appear worried about it. It went on for a while, then blood samples taken by a needle in the inside of his elbow, as red as any other person’s. She handed them off to one of her colleagues and continued her checks, Bruce didn’t really get a good look at him but he had a strange skill of appearing out of nowhere when she needed someone to take the vials from her. Eventually, the results of the tests she had asked for the blood samples came back and she took the wires off of him as carefully as she had put them on and tidied away everything she had used.
‘Yeah, everything looks normal. Your heartbeat is a little faster than expected, but from what’s happened to you, I wouldn’t say it was abnormal. Actually, you seem better than your previous hospital records say. No signs of any broken bones, or scars from prior injuries, or anything. You’re...immaculately well. With all respect, you shouldn’t be this healthy.’ Lee explained to him, rather astonished, flicking through a bundle of note papers on a clipboard.
‘Could it have something to do with my body fixing itself? It repaired all of the old injuries as well?’
‘Possibly. But, in any case, I can’t see anything wrong with you. You’re all clear to go home, as soon as they’re finished with their questions.’ Lee told him, and from above, Selina made an exasperated groaning sound.
‘What do you mean “after questions”? He said,’ Selina pointed over at where Jim was hanging around by the main circle of computers and desks, ‘All he said was that the kid would get checked out and then leave.’
‘It’s fine, really.’ Bruce interrupted her, ‘If it helps you. I don’t remember much. It’s still kind of foggy.’
‘That’s alright. Let me get you some water.’
‘And some snacks!’ Selina called out after her, ‘Hope she heard me. I’m kinda hungry. What about you?’ Her heels kicked against the wall, the end of her tail slowly waving.
‘I don’t know.’
‘You should have something anyway, what if your blood sugar’s low or something and you faint? Happened to this guy I knew once.’ Selina jumped down as Lee returned with a plastic cup of cold water, and a half-opened pack of plain cookies, ‘Oh, hey, thanks!’ She eagerly snatched them from Lee and started nibbling on one.
‘Thanks.’ Bruce gave a half-smile at her as he took a cookie from Selina, that she kindly returned, ‘You said that you have questions for me?’
‘That’s more Jim’s thing than mine, but yeah. Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t take long.’ Lee reassured him, ‘He’s up in the meeting room over there.’ She pointed over at a room up a short metal staircase much like the rest, its front was made of obscured glass with a white line printed just below the halfway point, but from where he was, he could see the blurred shapes of a table and chairs, as well as a couple of people in the room already. He went up by himself, although he could feel Selina watching him from a distance. Her eyes, he noticed, were always vigilant, darting around the room before settling on staring at one of the other people in it for a few seconds and tracking their every move. Then back to him, ears swivelling around.
Inside, the meeting room looked like it had seen better days behind its undeniably grimy windows, a layer of dirt and dust creeping up from the floor, its door wide open to an old, watermarked and scratched table with papers scattered across it, printed with diagrams, and much like the rest of the place, it looked like it needed fixing up. Pushed up to it were a set of worn, black leather chairs, their surfaces rubbed and cracked with use. A couple of them had coats and jackets slung over their seats and hanging down their backs, one was long and black, the other a tartan of black and orange. At the head of the table, Harvey and Jim were waiting for him, talking with each other in the meanwhile. Bruce struggled to catch what they were talking about before they greeted him again.
‘Good to see you’re doing fine, sit.’ Jim indicated one of the chairs that didn’t have a coat attached to it and Bruce pulled it out.
‘So, let me get this straight. This son-of-a—’ Jim nudged Harvey before he could finish, indicating Bruce’s young age, ‘This scumbag threatened your parents, then shot them even after they gave him what he wanted? Am I getting that right?’
‘That’s correct. He wanted my mother’s necklace and then it broke. Then he shot them.’
‘Doesn’t sound like your run-of-the-mill robbery. Your family got any enemies, anyone that would benefit from something like this?’
‘I can’t think of anyone. What do you mean by enemies? Do you think someone did this on purpose?’
‘Maybe. There seems to be a lot about this city I don’t know about. Perhaps someone had a grudge against my parents. My father said that he met people on his travels, perhaps one of them followed him back.’
From below, echoing down a service tunnel that connected the base to its main entrance, a voice bellowed in fury, a voice that Bruce knew, unlike everybody else in the building, finally someone familiar as he jolted up from his seat and ran out of the meeting room’s door and down the staircase
‘I know you have him. I swear if you’ve moved even a hair on his head I’m going to—!’
‘Alfred!’ Bruce shouted running up to him, before he clutched him in a hug, tears welling up in his eyes again at seeing him, refusing to let go as his guardian wrapped his arms around him, ‘Mom and dad… they were, they were shot and I was shot and then there was all this light. I didn’t know what to do and then they,’ He indicated Jim and Harvey, ‘They found me and brought me here. They were going to bring me back home after I answered all of their questions.’
‘I’m sure they were.’ Alfred spoke with disdain, a harsh glare set upon the other men as they came up to him, ‘The last time I had the great displeasure of meeting anyone in your organisation, they were locking up anything remotely not of this world to study it. Trapped them in a great big underground bunker for the rest of their lives.’ Alfred held Bruce closer, protectively, ‘And if you think you’re getting your hands on my boy, you’re very much mistaken!’ Alfred spoke with the sense that his former experience had grown an animosity between himself and everyone who worked for the group. It made Bruce wonder what Alfred had been through before he knew him, neither his parents or Alfred himself had ever mentioned it, though with what else had been revealed to him tonight, it seemed that there were many secrets he had yet to discover within the city itself.
‘Who are you, and how the hell did you get in here?’ Harvey yelled at Alfred, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
‘Harvey. Calm down.’ Bruce heard Jim say, ‘I’m guessing you’re his legal guardian?’ Jim nodded his head at Bruce, ‘Kid told me about you.’Jim held out his hand, ‘James Gordon. Jim. I take full responsibility for bringing him here.’ It fell to his side when it became apparent that Alfred was less than receptive to it, staring him down with an icy glare that would have made anyone feel tiny by comparison.
‘That’s right.’
‘We’re finished with everything we needed to do, so he’s free to go home now.’
At Jim’s confirmation, Alfred firmly placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and turned him away down the corridor, the slinking of Selina’s shadow passing the edge of his vision, climbing up towards a person-sized grate in the wall. He wondered if she would follow him home just as she had here, or if he would see her again at all.
Returning to the manor grounds was a strange experience. Everything had fallen quiet, save for the rustle of trees blown by the slow winds that gathered to the west. Everything was unmoved, still as it were before Bruce and his parents had left for the theatre. His and Alfred’s footsteps echoed through its polished, immaculate, empty halls through to the living room. Within days they would be filled with bouquets of flowers had been placed in vases, brought by friends and acquaintances of his parents. He would be given condolences from strangers that he barely knew, words that would ring empty after being heard so many times. But that was for another day. Alfred sat down with Bruce, both with warm cups of tea in their hands. A different warmth to the one he had felt earlier, this one was soft and spread through him like a light glow rather than the full force of a burning star that had engulfed him before. He was finally home.
‘Your father was a unique man, Young Master. Despite his family here in Gotham City, the legacy and history of your name, your father was never from the city. I know this may sound hard to believe, but your father was not an…ordinary person. How do I put this?’
‘It’s okay, please, just tell me. I want to know everything.’
‘Very well.’ Alfred cleared his throat, ‘Your father wasn’t from this, our world at all. He was a traveller from the stars above, an ancient one, from a civilisation as old as time itself. Or so he told me. I was in his service for many a year, even before you were around, and he showed me all manner of things that I wouldn’t believe if you told me about them today. I’d think you were mad.’
‘I met a girl who was a cat. I’d believe you.’
Alfred chuckled, a sound that soothed Bruce’s addled soul. Bruce’s eyes wandered around the room, curious, taking second glances at the dustless ornaments on the shelves, desks, and sideboards. How many of them were from his father’s travels? Was the glass replica of an avian skull displayed for all to see just a well-crafted reproduction, or was it actually from a creature made of glass itself? And the houseplants too, were they all from Earth, or were some of them brought over from distant worlds? Some had wafted with the scent of cinnamon in the breeze on a summer’s day, and another would produce a smell like fresh oranges if you brushed your hand through its curled fronds on the eve of a harvest moon. His father had once pointed out stars in the night sky, pointed past them, telling him about worlds beyond even that as he sat in his mother’s lap, wrapped in a patchwork blanket that had felt like the softest cotton, decorated with the faces of animals that he had never encountered before, and held the scent of his parent’s perfumes and cologne when they were away, now neatly folded up in a chest at the end of his bed.
‘If my father wasn’t…’ Bruce thought on his words, ‘FromEarth, is that why I was able to save myself? Was there something different about me?’
‘Quite possibly. See, your father had an ability to heal himself in the case of any major injury. I’ve only ever seen it once, myself. He lost an arm during one of his many travels that I happened to accompany him for, and used the same thing that kept you alive to regrow it.’
‘Then why? Why couldn’t he use his power to save himself?’
'Perhaps he couldn't bear the pain of being without you and your mother, Master Bruce. He lived many lifetimes, he told me, years ago, but the only time he was truly fulfilled was with her, and you.’
‘If he never brought himself back, did he think that I was dead?’
‘He might not have been aware that you inherited his powers. You were never in any mortal danger while you were young, we all made sure of that. Nothing happened to you to set it off, so I doubt that your father even knew he had passed it on.’ Alfred hesitated for a moment, ‘And, if I can be honest, Master Bruce, I’m glad that he did.’
‘So am I.’