Disclaimer: Sorry for not updating sooner. Btw, I'm specifying this fact: ages; in this story, Bruce is eight, Selina is 13, Ivy is 10, and Harley is 16. Enjoy!
Gordon sat alone in his apartment, staring at all the documents and newspaper clippings revolving around the Wayne Case. He knew couldn't study all this work, those bastards Loeb and Flass would boot him off the force in an instant. So he had to bring his work home.
He couldn't help but stare at the picture of the family, the one interestingly defaced the face of Bruce with marker. Some bizarre yet obvious connection was clicking in his head. But it couldn't be. The theory in his mind was downright impossible. Suddenly he heard the creaking of his wooden boards, followed by a voice.
"Freeze!"
Of course, due to all those years of training, Jim's reaction was to immediately turned around, and aim his service pistol at the intruder. The intruder was the young boy in the clown mask. For some odd reason, Jim eased himself a bit, but didn't lower the gun.
"Oh great. Is everyone gunning kids down these days?" Quipped the boy
"Take off the mask" Jim ordered the child.
"An anticlimactic way to do so, but since you have a gun, okay then." The boy said, his tone laced with sarcasm. Followed by him removing his mask with his right hand. Jim immediately felt shocked.
The face...he recognized it anywhere...Bruce Wayne.
Suddenly that impossible theory of his was a lot less impossible now.
In a matter of seconds, Jim went from slowly lowering his gun to actually holstering it. He then spent several seconds just standing there, doing nothing, face frozen with shock.
Bruce glanced down at the papers and pictures on the coffee table in the room, eyes directly on Jim's little doodle on his own picture.
"Incredible likeness, Gordon".
Jim finally gathered his senses, finding what nerves he could to speak, "I saw you die, I saw being buried six feet under."
"God, I'm thirsty. You got anything to drink in this place?"Bruce immediately walked into Jim's kitchen, opening his fridge, and pulling out a can of Coke.
Jim decided to pretend that the somehow resurrected child DIDNT just act that way. But his thought: Spoiled rich boy. Back to being shocked.
"I gotta sit down for a second. Shi-Holy Shit" He corrected himself. If this was some miracle of God, then he didn't say something to piss God off.
"Are you some kinda ghost?" Jim's question made Bruce cease gulping the Coke down his throat, and he answered with a large grin, "Boo!"
Bruce then sat down across from Jim, his grin immediately changed into a brooding frown, with amount of stress upon his brow.
"I don't know what I am. I was hoping you could tell me what happened to us and later on." He spoke with sorrow lacing his voice.
Jim frowned, feeling his chest ache with guilt weighing. He knew the answers to Bruce's question, but it wasn't exactly the kinda truth you'd want to have told to an eight year old. Regardless of him being back from the dead. But then again, the boy deserves the truth.
"You and your family went down an alley, bombarded with a barrage of bullets. Your father got killed instantly. Your mother...uh, got beaten and raped to death". He stopped himself noticing the look of unholy rage upon Bruce's face.
"I'm sorry. I'm that it happened to good people like you and them. You, uh, held on for thirty hours in intensive care and finally died at the hospital. I'm truly sorry Bruce." Jim sympathized.
Bruce closed his eyes, memories of that horrid night and agonizing hours of the hospital flooded his mind. He could feel his rage and anger boiling in place of his blood in his veins. Then he halted his rage, as other memories flooded as well.
Memories of the fun and playful times he had with his family. His whole family. His mother, his father, Selina, even Alfred. These memories calmed his unholy rage, all while raising more questions for him.
"There are two more I need to ask you about, mister Gordon." Bruce said with a firm coat of seriousness in his voice.
"And that would be?"
"There two others I want to know about. Selina Kyle and Alfred Pennyworth. Do you know what happened to them after us?" Bruce asked with concern.
"Um, Alfred Pennyworth was deeply saddened by you and your family's passing, so he went back England. Felt that Gotham no longer had place for him."
"And Selina?" Bruce pressed on
"She was placed back to foster care after the ordeal. She refused any foster parents, comparing to you three. So she ran away from it, living out on the streets now. I've done what I can to protect but not enough without DCFS tracking her down ." Jim said, guilt causing heartache.
He looked at Bruce, taking detail in consideration. Bruce's face screamed with rage, but the tears building up in his eyes stated sorrow.
Bruce immediately stood up, and placed his hands upon Jim's forehand, catching the police officer off guard. Bruce's mind flooded with Jim's memories of watching Selina struggle on the streets. He released the man, as the painful memories caused him heartache.
"Hey...you okay?" Jim asked, concerned for the boy
"I saw her. I saw her through your eyes. You stood by her all this time."
"Yeah, well, Someone had to. If not me, then who?" Jim stated with a matter of fact tone.
"Thank you." Bruce then took notice of a picture frame right next to him, with Jim and a red haired toddler in his lap, wearing a small purple dress.
"This your daughter?"
"Yeah. Practically the reason I still try to help clean up Gotham. Although nowadays I'm considering us to move somewhere else."
Bruce let out a small chuckle, "it's funny. Little things meant so much to my parents. Me and Selina used to find them so pointless. Believe me. Nothing is pointless."
Bruce finally decided to take way, heading towards the exit of the room.
"You gonna vanish into thin air, again?" Jim smirked, partially making it a quip.
Bruce smirked back, "For once, I'd rather use the front door."
"I'm sorry as hell for what happen to you, Bruce."
"Yeah..." Bruce exits the apartment.
(At Ivy, Harley, and Selina's apartment):
Selina woke up, smelling the smell of food being cooked. Which was unusual for her and the girls would usually somehow bring fast food home. She looked up, seeing Ivy bouncing up and down on a stool, and Harley cooking something on the stove.
Harley was wearing a red bathrobe with a black diamond pattern all over it. Selina wanted to point out to harley that the robe isn't doing much to cover up her cleavage but she decided not to.
"Oh you're up. Do you like regular or blueberry pancakes?" Harley asked, sounding like she was given vocal lessons from a 1950's mother
Pancakes? Harley cooking? What was going on?
"Beg pardon?"
"Harley's making us some pancakes for breakfast!" Ivy said, sounding as happy as ever. Something was up.
"What you on this time, Harleen?" Selina eyed her with suspicion. One night, she high and getting plowed by dirtbags, the next morning, she's Betty Crocker?
"Oh, no drugs. Someone, uh, woke me up." Harley said, leaving details out.
"Who?"
"Oh it was nuts"
"Whatever you say."
Selina finally took noticed of the brown leathery journal she grasped in her hands since last night. After the talk with that clown she had to dig it back up. Bruce's old journal.
"What's that?" Asked Ivy with curiosity
"Oh, it's just something of an old friend." Selina hoped that would satisfied the girl and end the topic.
She was wrong.
"Ooh, an old friend. Do tell." Harley budging into the conversation.
"It was Bruce's." Selina only says that, hoping the depressing truth would make the girls back off. Oh again, how wrong she was.
"You mean, the boy you still fiddle yourself to?" Harley exclaims.
Selina's face immediately turned beet red, "What?!"
"Selina, I'm the one that does laundry remember? And you think I don't notice certain stickiness on your underwear? Hmm" Harley smirked
Selina's beet red blush had just changed into a crimson.
"Shut the fuck up! You know what happened to him, Harley!" Exclaimed Selina
Harley was taken aback for a small second, then hung her head in shame, "Yeah you're right. I'm sorry Selina."
Selina wanted to be angry at harley, but she couldn't. Again she couldn't help but pity the girl. And she was still surprise to somewhat see a sober harley in the house.
"It's ok."
"Wasn't Bruce your brother?" Ivy asked, apparently not seeing the intense scent of depression in the air.
"By adoption, yes." Selina answered
"So why would you...do that...while thinking about him?"
Selina's crimson blush just got deeper. Damn it, she thought to herself. For a ten year old, she is smart.
"Again, we were adopted siblings. No genetics, no blood relation. Wasn't an incestuous feeling."
"Yeah, but did you...actually have feelings for him back then?"
Even though it was a harmless question, it was inevitable that it would bring Selina to tears, talking about her fallen brother, the boy she cared about. The girls as they pity her took her tears as a yes.
Both Ivy and Harley lunged forward, giving Selina a big bear hug. This placed a grin on her face, despite the tears.
"It's ok. It's ok." She opened Bruce's journal as she spoke, "It's like bruce used to say- 'Only the fool can stop tears from raining down'"
