Sorry, so very sorry amazing people reading this! I just figured out how to read reviews because I'm an idiot and then I lost the second chapter completely, so I had to start from scratch, anyway, so here is what I have reamining of chapter two, Bruce is actually really calm in this chapter. He's definitely cooled down, but don't worry you haven't seen the worst of his anger yet... believe me we haven't even touched that.
So yeah, alot of self comtemplating in this chapter... Yeah man I've been really hyper these past few days so hopefully it won't fail me now!
And plus it's friday, I ain't got no job, heck I ain't got #$ # to do tomarrow! Sorry if you guys haven't seen the movie Friday, you should... that my favorite line..."cause it's friday! You ain't got no job, you ain't got #$ # to do tomarrow, so we gonna get high..." Love that line, can anyone but me picture alot of DC and Harry Potter characters saying that cause I surprisingly I can...
Some of you guys were wondering how old Harry is and he is fifteen so yeah I did it:) I'm listening to the Cab right now...;) You guys shoould check it out... oh right off topic, here's chapter two;)
Chapter 2: Just Harry meet Just Anthony:)
Bruce walked quietly down the lonely streets and alleyways of downtown Gotham. He had his headphones on as loud as they would let him to drown out the sounds of the scum of the city.
A baseball cap graced the top of his head, another part of the lies. When Bruce or should he say Anthony had been a little boy, his father once took him to a baseball game. Bruce could still faintly hear the sounds of screaming fans and the wonderfully greasy smells of hot dogs, nachos, hambugers, and so many other foods he rarely got to eat due to his high lifestyle.
His 'fake father' had given it to him, all the while saying that he was going to grow up to be very important... Bruce had never really thought about the man he called his father in a long time, and he guesses he should have seen it. The differences between them. They were just so different and the same time alike.
Despite the fact that it was in the middle of one of the hottest summers in American history, the filth that was Gotham still managed to send a shivers down the spines of all the unfortunate people who dared enter the horrid city.
Bruce's "dad" had tried very hard to protect this city... should the fact that the man hadn't been his father alter that? Should his mission be in jeporady, just because of a lie? Bruce just wasn't sure of anything anymore, and he wasn't really sure why. He been through so much as Batman, probably more than most people have gone through in an entire lifetime, but now, he just seemed, off...
Though Bruce was in one of the more criminal infested areas of the city, he was kind of enjoying himself. It didn't even seem to faze him at the sheer peacefulness of the city. Today he was joyfully not noticed by anyone as Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and one of the richest men in the world, also known as Gotham's White Knight, or The Prince of Gotham. Nor did anyone (thankfully) know him as Batman, the Dark Knight, or the greatest detective in the world.
Today he was simply, blissfully, himself.
At one point in his life he'd once had a friend, stupid and annoying, but friend all the same. They used to be best friends, inseperatable, by anything and everything. That friend had called him Anthony... At first it'd started out as a joke. But now there was serious irony in it... His friend had done it because as he'd put it 'Bruce's first and last name had been eaten up, and wasted by the public, so his middle name had to be put to better use.'
And now it's not a joke anymore. He's pretty sure his former friend would agree that this type of irony was not 'cool.'
That friend is now known to everyone as Lex Luthor.
Back when they were friends Bruce had known him as Alex, choosing to call him a name that resembled his actual name more.
Sighing Bruce sat down on the nearest swing in a rusty, and probably - not - fit - for - child's - play - park. Bruce was now accompanied by a thick chocolate millkshake with carmel oozing off of it . He sipped on it absently as he began to swing back and forth in a really bad attempt to forget his troubles.
Just for one tranquil day he wanted to forget about the duties that came with being the Batman, and the CEO of a multinational company. For one single day Bruce wanted to remeber who he really was. To try and remember what it was like to be Anthony, and maybe figure out what it meant to be Anthony Potter.
After god knows how long a light snow began to fall, gracing Bruce with it's light friendly presence. And for the first time in a long time, Bruce actually wanted to smile. Maybe not a full happy smile like the ones Flash throws around everyday, but an innocent content smile.
Suddenly the smile vanished as Bruce froze in mock realization. The Batman part of him was yelling at himself for not noticing the fact that it was freakin snowing in the middle of the freakin summer! How had he missed that?
Immediately Bruce's overly active brain began firing off reasons and possible solutions for this strange anomoli. Maybe the Weather Wizard? No, Bruce quickly dismissed him, that freak constantly needed attention...
His mind was suddenly pulled away from his chaotic thoughts when a sudden annoying voice cut through the air. The voice reminded him of a frog mixed with... what was it? A dying goat possibly?
"Come back here Potter! Come back now, or I'll tell Dad that-"
"Shut up Dudley, now," a boy with large dark glasses, that looked as if they were about to fall off at any moment yelled back, causing his crazy black mess, that I assumed was his hair to fall over his face. "I put up with your crap in Britain and I most certainly won't do it in America, so go ahead, tell your dad, I don't care anymore!" Okay... Bruce was unsure of what to think, either these where some crazy forgeiners or that poor kid with the glasses was just in a really sucky situation.
Bruce watched the fight from a distance silently wondering whether he sould break it up, or see where it goes, because honestly he really wanted to see that annoying frog of a kid to get his ass handed to him. Either way, he was enjoying the show.
Somehow watching the kid with messy black hair yell at the fat kid was completely entertaining. There was something about the kid with glasses that constantly drew his attention, as if he should know who he was, or did but couldn't put name to face. Which was a new feeling considering he had a photographic memory...
Bruce realized the snow had stopped and melted in a matter of seconds. Looking back up he went to see if anyone else was seeing it or if it was just him. The lanky teen probably a year younger than Bruce himself began storming his way, anger eating at him completely.
As the boy got closer to Bruce he felt what seemed to be an electric shock zip through his body. The suddeness of the shock destracted, but not enough as to take him away from the water instantly melting at the boy's touch.
Bruce completely intrested in the boy now, had to wonder if he was some sort of meta or something... The boy practically threw himself onto the swing next to him, arms hugging his sides in complete and utter defeat. But to Bruce the kid had won.
In an attempt to offer some comfort to the poor kid he looked at him and gave him a sincere smile, which rarely happened, "nice job," he said nodding towards the fat kid.
"Thanks," the boy muttered with a faint smiled, "he's my cousin," Already figured that out Bruce thought nodding slightly as if it explained everything.
There were several ways to approach the kid next, he could either seriously need concern and comfort or would rather blunt seriousness. Bruce chose the first option feeling already protective of the boy for an unknown reason. "I am so sorry," Bruce said looking the kid directly in eyes in his best attempt to show concern which judging from the sudden tense and flash of anger, allowed Bruce to know, he went the wrong direction.
The boy's eyes held things that teenagers should never hold in them. They almost reminded him of himself... They held pain, sorrow, loss, torture, and a number of other emotions that shouldn't be experienced at such a young age, he should know...
The emotions in the boy's eyes seemed to make him appear ten times older and wiser. He had a maturity that many spent years to gain some such as Wally could dream of gaining them others where just out of reach. Bruce had acheived it at a young age, meaning the moment his parents died, was the moment he became an adult and every moment after was spent becoming the man he was today.
The boy must have a similar experience... which was turely in itself depressing, Bruce hated to see others face things like that, especially good people, and this boy was definitely a good person.
But Bruce just had to wonder... who was this boy.
~_~ ~-~-:}+~!~
"Don't be, I can handle myself," Harry snapped at Bruce, instantly regretting the words as soon as they let his mouth. The man next to him tensed slightly as if he was about to fight. Harry knew that tense, it was protective, instinctive; defensive.
A type of tense that came from lack of sleep and serious paranoia. This man seemed so familar to Harry, but for some reason he couldn't place him. Which was strange for Harry, normally paranoia forced him to remember every face he met. Which also was in itself depressing because it made him wish he had a photographic memory like his mother.
The man gripped his drink tighter, only a very select few people could catch that type of movement and body language, which surprisingly the man gave off very few emotions and body language. This man was a mystery, but from what Harry had gathered in a few moments wasn't a threat, reminding somewhat of Remus.
The man seemed a little too protective of himself, which was pretty strange, most people wouldn't be so closed off. Harry studied the man for a moment before looking at the melting millkshake in the man's hands, chocolate and caramel, nice combination Harry thought happily. At least the man had good tastes...
"Sorry," he muttered looking towards a slide that really didn't look like it could actually hold anything, seeing that it could barely hold itself up with it's rust covered metal and weak structure.
The man seemed all out good, but there was something in the way he held himself that hinted at his danger. He seemed to contain real power in his muscles, as if each movement were made to cover the strength and power held beneath the surface. Harry knew what that was like...
The man shook his head, "don't be, I should have known you weren't the type," his answer was quick, no compassion showing anymore, as if he has simply switched it off. It was almost as if the man had several personas each one completely different, just like Harry. Harry silently wondered what were they all, he seemed to have a lot of them.
Still something about what he had said urked Harry, "what type," how could someone judge him so quickly?
"The type to need compassion and concern," The man's dark black hair seemed to fall over his eyes slightly, causing him to reach up and push it back. His hair seemed to be forced to stay still on his head, as if overly neat, reminding Harry somewhat of what Remus and Sirius had told him about his mother.
"Then your right," Harry stated looking back to find the man analyzing him, normally it would have been unnerving, but now it was just... Harry just didn't know about this man, he was just so unlike anyone he's ever actually met.
"I know," he said looking towards the path Dudley had just disappeared from. The man frowned again narrowing his eyes for effect.
"Oh my apologies it seems I have forgotten to introduce myself, I'm Anthony," The man stuck his hand out easily as if he did it every day.
Harry shook it without hesitation for some reason he still couldn't understand, "Just Anthony?" Okay so he was fishing for information, he was paranoid! "Just Anthony," the man nodded causing Harry to smile at the memory th slowly rised in his mind.
"I'm Harry," Harry annouced back amused, but still too untrusting to say his full name.
"Just Harry," Anthony smiled with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Just Harry"
