A/N: Wow, just wow. Thank you so much. I am so happy, just I am practically speechless. Thanks again
Disclaimer: you know the story.
Gotham memorial Hospital
11:30 am
No-one P.O.V
The boy is pushed on a medical bed through the pristine, white corridor. "Get him stable!". Doctors shouts fill the corridor but the child can't hear what they're saying. "Sir what's the damage?" "Two broken legs, cracked skull, concussion, open fracture on the right arm and punctured lung, get me an oxygen mask now!" The pounding feet echo but in the rush no one notices. The eight year olds eyelids lay heavily upon his red puffy eyes.
Inside his head he sees something he's dreamt of since 'the day' dressed all in white, clutching his poor moth-eaten teddy, vaguely aware of a fast beeping in his ears. He sees the white light he had thought about not that many nights ago, and then the beeping stops and he is free…or so he thought. Suddenly the child is being dragged back into consciousness. His eyes snap open and a gasp erupts from his dry mouth, trying to gulp the air his body had craved for those five minutes in which his young life was lost.
3 hours later the boy is asleep in the clinically clean room, bright lights shining down on him. He is stable once more. He's not going down without a fight. But even in his slumbering state danger is lurking in the shadows, following our shade. He will keep fighting the battle, but it may no longer be easy to win the war.
Gotham memorial reception
10:00pm
Bruce P.O.V
I saunter into reception where a dizzy receptionist is filing her nails. Vanity, something I don't want to deal with right now. I walk over and ring the bell. Without looking up she answers me "what do you want?" I paint that oh so familiar fake smile onto my lips, but like any old painting, it seems to crack and falter. In my suave playboy voice I reply "Yes Im looking for 'Richard Grayson' please". She pulls her gum out trying to surreptitiously stick it under the desk while her long spider-like fingers scrawl across her keyboard. "Are you family?" "No im afraid but-" "then im sorry sir but you can't go through." Time to pull out the big guns "oh miss, im sure I'm allowed" Her head snaps eyes, foundation caked face going from serious to shocked in less than a second "Oh Mr Wayne, I-I'm afraid it's against our policy" I really didn't want to do this, her personality alone makes me sick, but it's for the boy, I lean in close and whisper in her ear "I won't tell if you don't". And just like that she took me to his ward, personally occasionally sweeping her hair behind her shoulder. Badly dyed hair flicking back like a whip. "Here you go sir-" Our eyes fall onto the empty bed with blood on the sheets my heart stops and jumps into my throat and her shill voice echoes the ward "Someone call the police!". I pick up his damage reports. The boys out there fighting for his life…and it looks like he's losing.
A/N: It's late, but it's updated, thanks again, a million times over. They are much appreciated, 'til next time folks
Dixie G