Chapter 7

Human Targets

Hi everyone! Thanks to those who commented, it was really nice to read your reviews! I hope you'll enjoy that chapter, it had been pretty challenging and I'm proud of it.

Past

Zack would often visit his sister when the circus was in town. He enjoyed spending time with her and Jeremiah. It was also the occasion to give his other nephew a good piece of his mind, and he would generally speak with his fist while doing that. Thinking of the devil…He saw Jerome sitting on the ground with a black-haired kid. He remembered he had seen that boy hanging out with Jerome several times. He wondered who he was, his nephew wasn't exactly one to make friends, even when some kid was willing to get close to him, it wouldn't last. His freak of a nephew couldn't keep anyone around and there was a good reason for that. But that one seemed to last longer.

He looked at what they were doing: the dark-haired one was mixing two products and a very small explosion was heard. The two kids yelped and laughed in amusement and Zack was startled at the sound. None of them had seen him.

"That's good! Where did you learn that?" Asked Jerome

"At school, the science class is probably the best, the teacher give us some tips like that."

"Dafuq are you doing?" Zack growled.

The brunet looked up at him with some fright and Jerome's smile faltered. The redhead shifted his position to put himself before Bruce. He didn't like to receive blows from his uncle but he would hate to see him hit Bruce. He didn't know why, but the idea of seeing his friend being beaten by Zack was almost unbearable.

"Why do you care?"

"Since when do you talk to me like that, you little…"

"I was just showing him something," the brunet said while standing up. Jerome mimicked him, it was better to be ready to run. "We weren't doing anything wrong!"

Something in the attitude of those two stunned him. The kid seemed frightened at him, while he should have been scared of Jerome, and more of all, his nephew, his fucked up nephew, was protecting someone! He couldn't believe it and that's maybe that stunning situation which stopped him from beating Jerome already.

"Zack?"

They saw Jerome's mother, who looked worried. She was walking with a clown, her last fuck buddy in date. She brought her brother away from the two boys and in her caravan. When Zack asked her who the kid was, she sighed: "You won't believe it."

"Try me."

"Bruce fucking Wayne."

"What?!"

He had heard of the billionaire kid, the newspaper ranted about the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne for a long time. "You must be kidding! What would a kid like Bruce Wayne do with a rat like Jerome?"

"He came here once and that's how they met, God knows why he took a liking on Jerome. He is also quite friend with Jeremiah, I think. Maybe he's screwed up too, I don't know. I told Jerome not to mess up with him, I don't want problems with that family."

No wonder, they were one of the most powerful and richest family in Gotham…Hell, of the country, even! Shit, this couldn't end well. He discussed with his sister a bit and eventually went to find the kid. He and Jerome were looking at a locked up box. He didn't know why, and he didn't care.

"Kid."

The two boys raised their heads when they heard the call. Bruce tensed a bit and the man gestured at him to come. Although Jerome tried to stop him at first, Bruce stepped toward Zack; he didn't want to be afraid. Jerome's jaw clenched. He perfectly knew what Zack wanted to do. He wasn't the first one. His mother and even the circus's director tried to tell Bruce he shouldn't hang around with him. His first move was to tell his uncle to leave them alone, but he held himself back. He wanted to know how Bruce would react.

"Yes, sir?"

"Listen, kid, I'm going straight to the point. I don't know why you're hanging out with that one, but you shouldn't."

"Jerome is my friend."

"Well he shouldn't be. Believe me, my nephew is rotten to the core, he'll only gives you problems. So don't come and see him again."

Bruce frowned and found the courage to say: "It's weird to hear an adult talk like that of his own nephew. And only my guardian can tell me who I can see or not see."

Zack closed his fist tightly. He badly wanted to punch the boy, he couldn't help it. He hated when people defied him, and he hated it even more when a kid would do that. Adults were adults, but children were supposed to obey grown up, and when one failed to do so…It made him want to make them squirm and bleed; he saw for a second the boy bleeding and weeping and enjoyed that image. But then he remembered his sister's words: this was Bruce fucking Wayne. The boy stepped away from him and returned to Jerome. Zack walked away, full of rage.

"Why doesn't he like you?" Asked Bruce to Jerome.

"Well, that's my dear uncle. He has dominance issues, or something like that. He can't handle it whenever someone stands up to him, except maybe my mom. And I'm not exactly the kind to obey easily. That's also why my mom hates me, and because I'm a weirdo, I guess."

"You're not a weirdo."

"Oh, yes, I am. There is something dark in me. But I'm fine with it, at least you'll agree I'm not boring."

Bruce had a little huff of amusement. He reminded him of Selina, she would never pretend to be good, she plainly embraced her flaws. Jerome never pretended to be in the norm, and he kinda liked that. "No, indeed, you're not."

"I know he isn't the first one who told you that," Jerome explained. "But I guess it wasn't really effective since you're still here."

"No. I told them you're my friend, and I don't care if you're different."

Jerome was sincerely touched at those words: "Well, let's go back to that lock." Bruce nodded in approval, Jerome and he were training to pick up locks. It was kinda exciting, and it made both of them forget Zack. At least Bruce forgot him, Jerome was reminded of his uncle's anger as soon as he came back home. When he entered, he saw Jeremiah in a corner, holding his cheek as if he had been hit, and it was probably the case. And he saw Zack glaring at him. He received a punch in the guts as soon as he closed the door. He wasn't a little child anymore, he tried to fight back, but hell, his uncle was bigger and stronger. In the end, he finished on the ground, being kicked several times in the stomach.

"You're never making fun of me again, got it, you little shit!"

Jerome answered nothing. His mother was drinking, watching indifferently. Jeremiah had left to go on his bed. He did the only thing he could: he laughed. He laughed crazily; this was so pathetic and stupid! Later, after Zack left, the twins were both in their beds. They could hear their mother fucking at the other side of the van. If there was one thing they agreed on it was this: they were both tired to hear that almost every night or day. That was one of the few moments when they were willing to speak, just to distract themselves from the sounds.

"What did Bruce do to make Zack so angry?" Asked Jeremiah

"Why? He spoke of him?"

"Yeah. Apparently he was bratty. I tried to tell him he wasn't a brat, just young, but…I guess I should have shut up."

"Oh, it's rare for him to hit 'Mr Perfection'."

Jeremiah rolled his eyes at that nickname. "It's rarer for me because I'm more careful than you."

"If by careful, you mean overly obedient and more manipulative, then yes."

Jeremiah didn't answer anything; yes, he was manipulative, but he didn't care. His brain was his sole weapon in that hell they lived in! So if he had to be manipulative, be it. If Jerome had been less of a rabid dog, if they had gotten along they might have been able to work together, but no. Jeremiah had grown to hate his brother for denying him the affection he should have given, avenging himself as much as he could. Of course, Jerome would have retorted that it was Jeremiah who wronged him. It didn't really matter anyway, all he knew was that: he was alone, and this brother of his was just an enemy.

"He tried to tell Bruce not to hang around with me anymore, but he refused to listen to him," Jerome said with some pride.

Once again, Jeremiah was silent, but he couldn't but feel a twinge in his heart. He envied him. He had never been jealous of Jerome before, but today, he was. He was still lonely, while Jerome had been granted a real friend.

O o O

Present

Bullock was doing his best not to lose his mind. Jim was away for now, he went to check a call, and apparently someone had sighted Jerome Valeska somewhere. Maybe it would be the truth, but he doubted it. They had dozens, hell, maybe hundreds of calls like that since the Gala! They had to check out each time, in case, but as a result, they got nothing and the cops were dispersed and exhausted. Panic reigned over the city and it wasn't about to get better.

"We got a call!" A young cop came toward him. Jim and he were somehow in charge now, probably because no one cared much in the middle of that mess.

"Yeah, that's not exactly new!"

"They said they sighted both Bruce Wayne and Jerome Valeska, this time."

Wayne? The boy hadn't been mentioned in many calls before; maybe he hadn't been mentioned at all, he wasn't sure. That was worth checking out. He tried to call Jim but his partner wouldn't answer. He hoped nothing happened to him. He gathered as many cops as he could; he got six in total for that. They got to the place as quickly as possible. For now, they would check out, he hoped he wasn't wrong about it, otherwise it would mean he took six cops with him for nothing.

The building was an old storehouse, it was abandoned since long, one of the many Gotham's building which had been taken by criminals. They looked inside and Bullock's eyes widened as he did see someone. At the other side of the room, Bruce Wayne was restrained to a pipe, mouth tapped and obviously scared with a bruise on his face. He was alive! He was about to step in when the kid saw them and shook his head violently while making muffled sounds. A trap…Of course, there was a trap, the kid was just a bait, those psychos wouldn't leave their hostage like this! He stopped immediately but two cops just rushed inside.

"No!"

One of them activated the first trap. A big wooden pole fell on their head and in a second, both were on the ground, bleeding profusely. Harvey kneeled beside them, watching carefully for any other traps. He ordered one of the cops to put pressure on their heads and told another one to call an ambulance and more cops and keep an eye on any movement. He told the two last ones to follow him and watch for any other traps. Even if there was danger, they had to try to get to the boy and save him, the hostage was their priority. In normal times they would have rushed toward him, but here, they had to go slowly and carefully.

"Watch out for any of them…" He then turned to the boy: "Don't worry, we'll get you out of this."

Further muffled sounds followed and Bullock saw the kid was looking at something on the ground and was moving his chin as if he wanted to show him something. He looked in the direction and saw a small piece of wood laying on the ground with a big sharp nail in its center. It was pointed in the air, waiting for someone to walk on it.

"Son of a bitch," Harvey muttered.

Bruce was a bit relieved. He memorized the different traps, and if he could point those to the cops, maybe they would get away easily. He had to tell them about the bomb, that he couldn't leave, but he had to it discretely; Jerome would get back at him if he discovered Bruce spilled the beans. He yelled as much as he could to another cop, the woman was walking right toward one of the traps. "Sanders, watch out! "Harvey yelled, understanding what Bruce was doing.

The cop looked around but saw nothing. Bruce could see it; he showed her the ground and Sanders saw the thin invisible thread. She saw the mechanism and what it led to. A gun was hidden between two old boxes, and its trigger was linked to the thread. It was pointed in her direction. If she had walked on the thread, the gun would have shot at her. She took off the gun, completely undoing the trap. Bruce was relieved, until he saw the third cop walking toward another one. He tried to warn him, but the man took one last step. It was enough.

They used a lot of invisible thread for their bobby traps. This one was linked to a bucket which was placed on a metallic pole, above, ready to pour its content. The thread linked to its handle was pulled when the cop's walked upon it. The bucket and everything it contained fell over the man. Bruce's eyes widened in horror as he saw thousands shards of broken glasses falling over the cop's frame. The man screamed in agony and fell on the ground were more shards were awaiting him. The boy closed his eyes, the screams were deafening in his ear. He felt nauseous and prayed it was all a nightmare.

Harvey and Sanders were about to rush at his side when they heard gunshots. They saw the colleagues who stayed at the entrance, one had been shot and the other one was shooting at a target. Another gunshot echoed, much closer and Harvey saw Sanders falling on the ground. He saw the psycho who shot and fired. The criminal fell on the ground, and Harvey stepped toward Bruce, he had to make sure he was safe.

He shot another psycho who tried to fire at him. A yelp came from his attacker who collapsed. Fuck! He hoped his colleagues had received their call and would come soon; otherwise he was screwed! Yet there weren't anyone shooting anymore…Then, he heard muffled yells, a loud noise behind him and then the sound of a body falling. He was turning round when he felt something hard hitting his head. The shock made him fell down and he just had the time to see Jerome with a bat. It came toward his head one last time.

Harvey was struck unconscious.

O o O

Earlier that day:

After the robbery in the store, the psychos found an abandoned building where they started to prepare traps.

Jerome was especially enjoying himself, booby traps had always been of a great interest to him. When he was a kid, he would make some for the streets cats to kill them; he would also make little traps for human, but only as jokes, he didn't know how to kill someone without getting caught. It would be simply a thin thread between someone way to make them trip, or a bucket of water hanging on a barely opened door. Once, he filled that bucket with elephant shit, he had managed to put the blame on another kid and it had felt good to see someone else suffer for once.

"Who is that for?" Asked Bruce all of sudden, taking him out of his thoughts. Jerome smiled at him; he just handcuffed his friend to a pipe, hands behind his back, to make sure he wouldn't pull any other trick.

"For the cops of course. We're going to call them."

"What?!"

Jerome enjoyed the surprised look on his face, he always loved when he managed to surprise him.

"Well, yes! One of us will call them and explain that Bruce Wayne and Jerome Valeska had been seen in here. And when they'll come in here, well…"

"They'll probably send dozens of cops to catch you. Do you really think they'll all get trapped?" He purposefully said 'trap', because he didn't want to say 'kill'.

"Oh, they won't send too many cops. See, I happen to be in multiple parts of the city."

Bruce gave him a confused look and Jerome went on: "After my escape, I told some of my followers to make calls to the police. They acted like scared sheep and pretended they saw me in different parts of the city. One called at midnight to say I was on the docks, another called at 2am to say I was near the General Hospital, and on and on...And I guess a lot of real sheep are freaking out and calling them everywhere. It's chaos, and they are overworked."

"Then what makes you believe they'll even come?" Bruce pointed out.

"Because we'll mention you, and I'm pretty sure they'll check out. They wouldn't care for any normal folk, but they wouldn't miss a chance to find the Prince of Gotham won't they?"

Bruce's tightened his lips and raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah. They don't care about the regular folks, but little rich boy…"

"Stop talking like that! Stop talking like everyone else!"

Jerome wasn't expecting this. He looked at Bruce, silently telling him to go on. The boy stared right in his eyes: "Money or name never mattered between us, never! So stop speaking like all the jealous people I already met. That's not you."

"My, my, you're really touchy about that, it proves my point."

"What point?"

"That you aren't made for that rich world you were born in. You wouldn't be so upset to be defined by your money or your name if it was really important to you. That's one of the things you enjoyed with me, you felt relieved of all that."

Bruce didn't answer anything because it was true. He wasn't really fond of his snobbish world, and though money could definitely be handy, it never really mattered to him. And yes, it was true that whenever he had been with Jerome, he had been just Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne, just Bruce. And that was one of the things he enjoyed with him. Even now, even in that situation, he still had that feeling. Jerome smirked and ripped a band of tape.

"And don't worry, you will be free for real, I'll make sure of that."

He put the tape on Bruce's mouth, reminding him he wasn't in position to resist. He was even more worried, he wouldn't even be able to warn anyone!

"Now, you can still try to save them, if you wish. But remember, don't try to escape, and don't speak about the bomb. But I guess it will be hard for you to speak."

He gave Jerome angry look but it didn't seem to affect the red-head at all. He tried to wriggle and free himself, but it proved useless. He had nothing to unlock the handcuffs at all; he could only wait.

O o O

Bruce let out muffled yells as Jerome circled around Bullock's unconscious body. The cop who had been showered with glass shards had also been knocked out. He saw the ones in the entrance on the ground. Those who had been struck by the wooden pole were still down and the two others who had remained at their sides were also down, shot by the psychos. Jerome looked triumphant, his bat still in hands: "It's Gordon's friend, isn't it? I recognize him. How about we toy with him a bit?"

New muffled sounds came out of the bound boy, sounding desperate and Jerome felt thrilled and mischievous once more. "You know that one? I guess you do, I know you already met Gordon, Barbara would endlessly cackle about how Jimmy would be so scared to see both you and that Lee taken hostage. I think she was jealous of you! Yeah! Because Gordon has some paternal feelings toward you. What a lunatic, I swear!"

He laughed at his joke, and then crouched at Bruce's level: "At least I hope it was only paternal affection, otherwise…" Bruce frowned and gave him a disgusted look. That was a repulsive and sick idea! But now, Jerome was sick…The redhead huffed at his reaction and went to touch his face but Bruce backed away as much as he could to avoid it and Jerome just let his hand fall while rolling his eyes. "Don't get so touchy again, I was kidding! Now, let's have some fun!"

They took Bullock's unconscious body and put him in one of the vans, while Bruce was released and brought to the other one. He took a big breath when the tape was taken off of his mouth. "What are you gonna do to him?!"

"You'll see, now, hush! I need to think."

Though he didn't like that, Bruce did obey. He couldn't take any risks while there was another hostage, Jerome could kill him out of anger. As long as Bullock was unconscious, he had to wait. He didn't know where they stopped, but they got into another trashed place. Bruce was locked inside the van at first. He considered his options but didn't know what to do. Once again, apart from obeying, he couldn't do anything without risking the cop's life. That was so frustrating! Here he was with his hands untied, able to run and even fight, but he couldn't do anything, because there was a hostage, because he was too young, because he didn't have any weapons, or enough training! And cops had been killed while he had watched without being able to do anything! That man in the store had been murdered under his eyes! And now, maybe he would see Detective Bullock die! He promised himself he would do everything to save him, he didn't know him much, but it didn't matter.

The van was suddenly opened and he saw Laura. "It's ready!" She looked like they were about to throw some kind of surprise party for his birthday, it almost seemed like she was unaware of the horror of their actions. Bruce exited the van, they were in an underground parking lot and he saw everyone gathered, looking at something against the old decrepit wall. Bruce felt fear at this. What would he see? When he saw, he froze in place.

Detective Bullock was tied against an old plank, and Bruce's heart at this sight. The man yelled insults at them: "Untie me you fucking psychos; I'm not your fucking toy!"

Jerome advanced toward him and laughed: "I fear you're wrong! Don't be sad, you'll have a spectacular death!"

Bruce was afraid but he couldn't just stay here. Laura's hold was weaker than earlier, he freed himself easily and went to Jerome. "What are you going to do?!"

Harvey's eyes widened at the sight of Bruce. What was he doing?! Jerome turned to the boy with a proud and excited smile: "A knife throwing number, of course! You always thought I was good at this, well, you'll have the pleasure to see me again." He turned to his audience: "Where do you think I should plant the first knife, guys? Between the eyes?! Do you think I can do it?!"

Encouragements echoed but when Jerome was about to throw the first knife, Bruce pushed him away. Yells of disapproval echoed, Bruce felt someone grabbing him but he resisted against the hold. Jerome looked very annoyed.

"Bruce! That's cheating! If you bet on me loosing, fine, but don't cheat!"

"Let him go!"

"Kid, stop that!" Bullock yelled, but his words were ignored.

"He is a cop! Do you seriously want me to let him go?"

"I thought you didn't fear cops. It's not as if we were staying here anyway!"

"It's not about fear, it's about resistance, and mostly fun!"

"Are you really sure about that?!"

Everyone was watching their exchange with attention; detective Bullock was agape at the sight of this kid trying to stand up to Gotham's most dangerous criminal. He yelled at him: "Don't do that, kid, back up! It doesn't matter what they do to me, save yourself!"

At those words, Jerome slowly stepped toward the detective: "So you're ready to die for him?"

"That's that a real man would do, you scumbag! You wouldn't know that, would you?"

Jerome had a smile in the corner of his lips. "Well…That's no fun if you're willing. Trying to play the big hero when you're going to die anyway…It's a lame twist. You're just trying to look good."

People in the crowd approved and booed at the detective. Jerome shot once in the air to get everyone's attention: "New idea! How about a courage test?! Brucie?"

He stepped toward Bruce again and seized him by the arm: "How about you take his place and I draw your shape on the plank with my knives? Here is the goal: if you muster the courage to stand willingly while I throw all my knives at you, I'll let him live. But if you cower away, he'll take back his place."

Approvals and a few disappointed moans were mixed, but Jerome only looked at Bruce, who nodded silently. The redhead had a cruel laugh and spoke to the cop: "You wanted to be a man? You wanted to be a hero? Well, look what happens now because of you: Bruce will be on the fire line! What is the big man going to do?"

Those words rose even more enthusiasm among the followers who mocked Harvey. He tried not to pay any attention to them and focused on the two boys: "You fucker! Don't do it, Bruce!"

Jerome didn't listen to the cop and addressed the crowd again: "See people? That kid asked me once to teach him how to be brave! How to conquer his fear! Well, I want to see if I'm a good teacher. It's one thing to beat up a guy, it's another to stand and face a possible death without moving an inch."

A lot of them cheered loudly, especially Laura and Casey. Bullock was tied against a pillar instead of the plank, he put up a fight, insulted them, told Bruce not to do it again and again, but no one paid attention. They gagged him to make sure he wouldn't disturb the show. Once the man was secured, Bruce willingly placed himself face to face with Jerome. He stood with his arms slightly spread and his eyes looking straight ahead. He tried to keep a stern expression in spite of his racing heartbeat. He had to be able to do this. He had a goal, he wanted to grow strong. This was training, yes, he had to see it like this, as a part of his training to face fear. How could he ever pretend to help others if he couldn't face fear and death? The man in the shop had been killed already, several cops had been murdered, he couldn't let the last person alive die.

"Remember, Bruce. If you decide to leave, you have only one word to say."

The boy remained silent and Jerome prepared himself. Jerome threw the first knife with a maniacal grin. Bruce couldn't help but startle when he heard the knife land beside his ribs. Yet he didn't move an inch. He hadn't moved when his parents had been killed, because he was too scared. Well, this time, remaining still could save a life. He had to do this. Jerome's smile intensified and he threw the second knife. It landed on the other side, and Bruce couldn't help but feel grateful that Jerome was good at this. He doesn't want to kill you. He has other plans in mind for you. At least he hoped so. A third knife landed right beside his skull this time and Bruce's breath was cut off. He couldn't help but widen his eyes in shock.

"Seems like he is getting scared already! Will he give up soon?" Another wave of ruckus echoed in his head, he clenched his teeth as the headache felt more persistent. Other knives were thrown and Bruce managed to stay in place. It was so tempting though, to just say 'Stop'. Yet he managed to keep his mouth shut. I'm not gonna die today. Jerome addressed the audience again:

"But, I'm the only one having fun, does anybody want to try? Anybody who knows how to throw a knife!"

A handful of people came, and Jerome reminded them loud and clear that they had no right to aim for the head. That part of Bruce was his.

One woman threw the first knife. Bruce was even tenser, but thankfully, it landed near his arm. The second, a guy, didn't even manage to touch the plank. He picked up the knife while others made fun of him. A tall man took one of the knives and looked at Bruce with a predatory smirk. The boy had a bad feeling; he briefly looked at Bullock who shook his head as if he wanted to tell him it wasn't worth it. The knife was thrown.

An excruciating pain spread through Bruce's ear. The boy didn't even realize that he was screaming before the sound died in his throat. His hand went to his ear, it was bleeding profusely and he could feel a cut. Hell, he didn't know how to handle that kind of wounds! Jeremiah would have…He felt tears of pain prickling his eyes and was absolutely unable to hold those back.

The man who threw the knife laughed until he received a punch from Jerome: "What did I say?! The head is for me only!"

He stabbed the guy in the arm and looked at Bruce again; the boy was slightly bent over, his hand on his bleeding ear.

"That one was bad, I guess! Do you want to give up, Bruce?"

Jerome's words were like an electric shock, and it was enough to give him strength again. He had to be able to face this! Taking shaky breath, clenching his teeth to try to push away the nausea building through his throat, he straightened himself again and tried to fight against the tears. He was strong, stronger than them and he would prove it! He wiped the tears away, took his hand off his ear and stayed before the plank. His look was enough to tell Jerome he wouldn't give up.

There was more tension in the room; Bullock's breath was cut off at such a sight. The followers were quieter and watched Bruce with stupor. Even his captor wasn't smirking anymore. He wasn't as surprised as the rest but he looked at Bruce with fascination. He took another knife and threw it quickly.

The blade landed right beside his neck. Bruce's jaw tightened and he kept his position. Another person threw a knife and it landed beside his shoulder. Bruce's breath was cut off again as a knife landed just above his head. Another at the other side of his neck. Jerome threw a knife again and this time, he felt pain in his arm. Not as bad as his ear but he hissed and his jaw tightened. He had to fight himself not to get down and tell them to stop. He longed to do that, to just stop. He felt blood oozing out, the knife made a cut, but it wasn't actually planted in his arm. Some new tears fell from his eyes. He focused on fighting those off as Jerome threw other knives around his head; He had to face it, he had to face pain and death, he had to save Detective Bullock…It seemed like it would never end, and slowly, Bruce found himself swearing that no one would ever force him to stand still. Never again! The criminals would have no other choices than cower before him!

He was breathing shakily and his body was trembling violently. How much time? Thing was, the more he stood against that plank, the more he felt like something was rising in him. He was facing death, and strangely it made him feel incredibly alive. He was wounded, but he was fighting in some way. He was finally facing something he couldn't deal with in his everyday life. How much…

"Well, it seems that our dear Brucie won again!"

Applauds and cheers were heard. Bruce sighed in relief but felt scared again when he saw Jerome right before him. The redhead smiled while looking at the knife. It was a ferocious but delighted smile "You wouldn't give up would you? How do you feel now, Bruce?"

"A…Alive." Jerome chuckled at this and half-dragged him toward a man who stood up and tore off another guy's sleeve.

"Hey, why did you do that for, Doc?!" Yelped the latter

"I need it," answered the first man.

"Shut up, big baby, it's only a shirt," Jerome ordered.

The man who ripped off the sleeve made Bruce sit down and applied something against the wound. The boy felt pain again and yelled: "Stop!"

The man looked at him with surprise: "Calm down kid! I made studies to be a doctor, I know what I'm doing; That's why they call me Doc! I'm cleaning your wound. I'll have to make some stitches, though."

"Come on, you ruin your little triumph by crying like a wuss," someone said mockingly.

"Shut up, you're just jealous cause he has guts," another one replied in Bruce's defense.

"Indeed," Laura hissed. "Let's see if you do better."

With those words she suddenly planted a knife in the boy's arm. A scream echoed and the man was whining and weeping. While some of the followers were scared, most of them were mocking the guy. Jerome was laughing manically.

"Not so tough, uh? I hate people who boast like this. Nice initiative, Laura!"

Nonsensical...That violence was just so pointless! He looked to see that Bullock had been knocked out already. Bruce hoped Jerome's words truly meant something. He knew the boy, it was a game to him, and he guessed games had to get some edge to it. He shivered several times as the 'Doc' took care of him, he obviously knew what he was doing, at least. The teen jumped in surprise as he felt two arms encircling his torso. It was Laura who was smiling at him:

"You were kinda badass! No wonder Jerome doesn't want to let you go!"

"Yeah, not sure it was worth it for that fat pig, but still!"

Laura released her hold. If it hadn't been for the blood on Bruce and her demented look, they could have looked like two close friends or even a couple. Strangely enough, Jerome didn't seem jealous at this. Bruce winced again at the pain: "We already did that once, but the knives were blunted." He didn't know why he was saying that, it just blurted out.

"You mean the kind of knives used by professionals to avoid killing the target?" Asked someone. Bruce nodded in response, though he didn't know who spoke.

"We both shot knives at one another," Jerome added while sitting near him. "It was funny. You were clumsy back then, but you learned fast. I wish I could see you try again one day. I'll keep that idea in mind. Now, let's move upstairs, there are plenty of places where we can stay."

Bruce had been in some sort of daze during all the travel. He had tried to register where they could be, but discouragement and pain overtook him. All he had managed to do was to walk in silence when they took him out of the van.

He was pushed into a flat and pushed in a tiny and dirty bathroom. There, the Doc started to stitch his ear and arm, explaining he would always keep some material near him, just in case. Bruce didn't peak and just looked around. It was so grim, so empty and depressing…Did the owners leave that place a long time ago? Or did they just neglect this place? He noticed two towels hanging, and a soap in the shower. There had been people in here, recently. So if they didn't move away, what became of them? Had they been killed by his captors…He couldn't help but contort his face; The tears fell before he could do anything, and he just rubbed his eyes before hiding his face in his hands. At least he was alone. He could hear them partying in the other room. He believed he heard a scream of pain. Maybe it was the person who used to own that flat who screamed…The tears were even more intense at this thought. He tried to cry as silently as possible and prayed that none of the psychos would come in. He desperately wanted to go home, to be safe again. He wanted Selina, he wanted Jeremiah, he wanted Alfred, and he wanted his parents…

He cried until he fell asleep.

Poor Bruce…Hope you enjoyed it, though.