Bruce Wayne doesn't understand why they always look at him in such a bittersweet way, he doesn't know why does he feels so comfortable around them. He doesn't know why he avoids the mansion, even though always finds ways to see Alfred. Bruce Wayne doesn't know he once was Batman.
* memories of a mind without memories
It happened a few months ago. A car accident, that's what they said. He was missing until Monica Altino found him. She is the owner of an art school in Gotham, but she is not from there, and didn't know who he was when he showed up, and still she took care of him for months before the first memories came back. He already could spend his life by her side. So, Bruce decided to find a job, the beard that grew during his recovering helped to cover who he was. Now he have been working in the youth center where she volunteers. He was in peace.
The first time he had the feeling he was missing something was when a young man came to teach sign language. He didn't know who he was, but Berry just couldn't form a sentence after they were introduced. Barry gave his classes to some instructors and other volunteers, but Bruce knew that he was always looking at him, waiting… Well, waiting for something.
A few weeks after a woman came, she was beautiful in a way that made Bruce unable to control his own breath. Proud, fierce, confident and she smiled at him kindly. Diana Prince, he found out, curator of a museum in Washington. They talked about a chance of a tour for the kids, about how long Bruce was there, among other things. When she finally had to leave, she hugged him more wistfully than Bruce thought someone could bear. He didn't get her sentence of goodbye.
"Take how long you need, my friend. Your heart will find a way as soon as it gets ready."
They were all excited, a new article about the youth center and its impact on Gotham's people's lives would be made. Lois Lane and another journalist would go there. When they arrived, the major responsables for the institution and some kids talked with Lane, took a few pictures and, at some point in the middle of it, Bruce saw himself alone with the other journalist; Christopher… no, Clark. Clark Kent. They chatted, Clark seemed amused with something in the situation, and he have drunk every Bruce's word. About how he enjoyed the institute, how he knew the names of almost everybody and how happy he was about being able to help Gotham's people.
Kent seemed lost for a moment, almost like he wanted to say something, like he was fighting against a decision. He didn't say. Thanked the interview, said that it was wonderful the work that Bruce and the center made there and, more than once looking back, he was gone.
Bruce didn't know where did the tear that wet his shirt came from.
Arthur Curry got to the door, looked at him while he was dumping some equipment, didn't say anything, but nodded his head with respect before left smiling.
Each one of them came back in some way, at some point. His children, Dick and Cassandra also showed up sometimes, they liked Monica and seemed happy for him, so Bruce just didn't know why always seemed like there was something unfinished with them.
More than once he saw something about the way Dick walked, or how Cassandra used to say less than the normal.
The news traveled fast in Gotham, the increase of criminality, disappearances wich were each day harder to solve. Bruce follow the news uneasy, unable to help.
An afternoon, he was at the roof of the institution, the purple sky announcing a starry night, Gotham shining elegant and dark in the horizon. It was beautiful, it was broken and he loved it, just didn't know what to do.
-Hi.
Bruce looked at his side, Superman was sitting on the top of the building, just like him.
-Hey.
-You seem lost.
Bruce smiled – You too. He ignored the easiness with which they talked.
They remained in silence for a few minutes.
-Some time ago, a man made a decision for me. He told people needed me.
-Was he wrong?
Kal looked at the horizon a bit longer before his answer. - No. Much would've been lost if he didn't have done what he did. Many would've died.
-I see.
-Are you happy?
The question surprised Bruce. He didn't know what the Kryptonian expected to hear, or what he wanted to hear.
-Why are you here, Superman?
-Because I'll have to make a decision for you back, Bruce.
Thank you very much for my incredible Fernanda Martins, since my English is very precarious