A/n: It's been a very long while, understatement I know. I almost deleted this fic back in 2016 because of a few rather harsh reviews but found my cheer once again in Kilter. Thank you to all those who reviewed in the past few years and PM'd me as well.

I think many if not all of the readers misunderstand the context of this future relationship between Harry and Bruce so I'll happily clarify it during the continuation of this story. Admittedly this story has gotten darker than when I first started but it was never intended to be a loving/stereotypical relationship. But as I've said, you'll see.

Sorry for any mistakes found.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry or Batman.

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"No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side.

Or you don't."

Stephen King.

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Chapter Eight

"Harry try to follow the light with your eyes for me son. Take your time." the voice of the doctor was a familiar one now, soothing and impossibly patient during the weeks he had been confined to the hospital bed. A bright light shone into his eyes and he squinted to block some of the glare from penetrating his vision before he followed the small but piercing beam to the left and then to the right after a few seconds it changed direction.

Dr. Matthews hummed and clicked the light off, his chart in hand and hand scribbling something on the page.

"His response time is a bit slower than I would have hoped for but he's still recovering so any progress is good." Harry turned his gaze from the middle-aged man who was always smartly dressed in a tie to his grandfather who was nearly unrecognizable in common clothes, his beard trimmed but not completely shaved away.

Alfred looked down at him and those blue eyes that held so much pain and regret, that always seemed to have tears balancing just on the edge of his lids smiled down at him, hand squeezing his smaller one so gently it chased away the slight cold that seemed to never leave his bones now.

"I'm going to sit you up now Harry. As always tell me if you're in pain. Your muscles are coming along well but discomfort will still be present."

Harry gave a slight nod and Alfred stepped back to allow the nurse her room to help sit him up. It wasn't the act of moving that hurt, more so his muscles and bones that had been frozen to only be thawed in what the doctors called a 'miracle'.

He had been pronounced dead on arrival and it was only due to his immense luck that someone had placed a breathing mask over his face, the mask over his face fogged just slightly and that someone noticed it quickly enough to cart him off to some room or another. His heart had stopped and so had his brain functions even after he was being tended to. Resuscitation had to be done three times and adrenaline pumped into his body enough so there was a concern he would become an addict later on.

For those first two days, the doctors had tried to return his body temperature back to normal, the frigid state it had been had led to complications and those complications had led to him contracting pneumonia which was followed by a twenty-four-hour constant watch in a bacteria-free sterilized room. He was basically the boy the in the bubble, only authorized personnel had been allowed and only after they followed clear and precise instructions.

An induced coma had been necessary because as soon as he woke he had screamed even with the painkillers coursing through his system his nerves were frayed and broken and it hurt.

It hurt more than the orphanage or Harry Hunting. Everything was ablaze and nothing could soothe it. He had cried until his eyes itched from the lack of tears remaining, nose so stuffed he had to be placed on assisted breathing. Alfred had watched from beyond the glass and during the times the man had spoken to him through the intercom, the microphone in the room allowing them to communicate, his grandfather had cried along with him.

So in order to spare him more suffering the best thing was to place him in a medically induced coma.

After the coma, sedatives were his best of friends, not more than Bellatrix or Lucius but a near thing and he spent a vast majority of his time in the hospital drugged to his eyeballs just to keep him from moving when in pain. His voice came back slowly but surely, the vocal cords damaged during his time screaming in the shed for help and then further lack of use during his comatic state.

It had taken some time but he eventually could speak, soft rough words to tell Alfred just how and who had placed him in a locked shed. He had only needed enough energy for one word.

"Bruce."

Thankfully the morphine had kicked in at that very moment and he found himself drifting further and further down the rabbit hole but he hadn't missed the lost expression on his grandfather's face, his features shifting as he comprehended just what Harry had told him in response to his question.

Sure he had been afraid that Alfred would have refused to believe him because while he was a blood relative Bruce was his charge. Bruce was the one whom he had raised and nurtured while Harry he had just found, but Bellatrix and Lucius said he would be believed and they had been correct.

The two had been the ones to keep him sane during his unconscious state where he could hear everything around him but could speak much less open his eyes to signify so. They spoke to him and within his subconscious, he created a mind palace, a place where he wasn't just a detached voice without a body and where he could visualize his friends as they were in the book.

He learned as much as he could during his time under and Latin was rapidly becoming his favorite language.

Biting his lips he held back the whimpers as much as he could but gave in halfway through and Dr. Matthews paused in moving him. He was moved four times a day to help his body return to a normative nature but it still hurt despite how accustomed he was to being helped to move.

"Can you continue Harry?" Dr. Matthews asked, his voice never leaving the gentle tenor it had been since meeting and Harry believed had he been older he would have developed what might have been called a 'crush' on the man.

A nod was given and the two finally got him upright, his back aching and spine feeling as though it would snap from his flesh and protrude like the in the horror movies.

"That's a good boy Harry, take some deep breaths for me with me. Inhale… exhale… Inhale…"

The stethoscope was cold against his skin but it was an insignificant chill compared to what he had endured and subsequently nearly perished in.

"Your heartbeat sounds wonderful if just a little fast. Your lungs are finally clear as well." Dr. Matthews gave him a beaming smile and Harry gave him a tiny one back.

"Within two weeks or so we'll remove the catheter if you continue with this progress. Let's see if you can take a few steps for us."

He was eased from the bed, the action alone causing him to close his eyes but the man's gentle persuasion of push through it as he and the nurse helped made him stomp down on the urge to quit. Two days ago he had taken five steps before he begged to stop and Dr. Matthews was asking if he could take a sixth on today.

The pain was mind-numbing but he managed seven before his weak muscles gave up for him.

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H. B

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He had been given permission to leave the hospital just as the fourth week of spring came about, the air still holding a slight chill, or maybe that was him, he wasn't sure but either way he was bundled up and toasty by the time he was wheeled out the doors and bid goodbye to who he would visit twice a month to continue to monitor his progress.

Being back in the Wayne Manor was both terrifying and yet a relief. On one hand, at the hospital, he could be as far away from his torturers and the place he had nearly - the place where he had died, but at the hospital he felt suffocated by the constant gazes of the doctor and nurses who seemed to think he would kneel over if they dared to turn away.

Alfred had guided him in a new bedroom, this one overlooking the courtyard and for the second time in his life, his grandfather helped him from a wheelchair and into bed. This was becoming a running theme in his life that he refused to have repeat a third time and in his subconscious, he heard Lucius and Bella agree.

Smiling at the blue-eyed man whose face was marred by a deep frown that made wrinkles appear on his forehead Harry reached up and smoothed the creases until Alfred chuckled and tucked the warm comforter around his figure.

"There. All comfortable as can be." Alfred murmured, sitting on the bed, his large hand cradling Harry's smaller one.

Harry hummed and continued to stare up at his grandfather, his dark hair peppered with strands of white that hadn't been present earlier that year and though he smoothed away the crinkles a few remained, already inked into the skin to remove. He knew his grandfather was worried as any responsible adult would be, and though he wanted to blame the man for not noticing, for not paying more attention to his two charges he couldn't summon the energy or will to be furious at his grandfather.

Not because he had saved him from Wool's but also for the very fact that Harry was a great pretender and Bruce was almost on par with him in that category. They had hidden their ill intentions and pain both from the butler and Harry had paid for his foolishness by not telling the man immediately, and though he had been reassured several times that should there ever be a choice he would be number one pick.

To be chosen over Bruce Wayne, a millionaire at birth and youngest business owner in Gotham and possibly the world was maybe the best thing he had ever heard.

To be chosen over a golden boy, to be the first option for Alfred - Harry had beamed.

Alfred refused to say even a whisper of what had occurred after Harry had lost consciousness upon confessing it was Bruce who had caused him his untimely death and upon prompting after he was lucid for more than a few seconds at a time he also told the butler of all the other events that had taken place.

The shortage of food, being pushed down stairs, the pool incident, Harry Hunting, everything.

That had been weeks ago and he had yet to hear anything about Bruce or his jolly group of bullies and he knew it was partly not to worry him - Dr. Matthews had emphasized 'zero stress' to be number one on the long long list of things he couldn't do or have.

But he needed to know.

"Grandfather."

Alfred's brilliant baby blues that almost seemed to glow from where they had been staring at his grandson's hand as if it was telling his fortune, dark eyebrow lifted in question.

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry licked his lips and hesitated for a short moment before leveling with Alfred with a determined look, his hand tightening around the butler's.

"Where's Bruce?" the reaction to the question was immediate and Alfred tried to pull away, the frown and dark expression clouding his features. "It doesn't matter Harry I think-"

"I want to know." he interrupted and Alfred's expression soured even more.

"Harry…"

"Please grandfather. I… I want to know. You said that he wouldn't hurt me any longer, what did you mean by that?"

Alfred made a sound in his throat as though he had been shot and though he could have yanked his hand out of Harry's own very easily seeing as how Harry barely had much strength even with the therapy he kept it there. Cradling his only remaining family's cheek with the other hand Alfred shook his head.

"Why do you - why should you ask about the person who...who hurt you so my boy? I don't-I don't understand."

His grandfather looked so lost, the confusion muddled with pain that wasn't physical and Harry bit his lip.

"Because he's important to you." Alfred opened his mouth to protest but Harry reached up and covered the chapped lips with his other hand. "I know you love me, that you would choose me over him grandfather but that doesn't change the fact that he's still an important person for you."

Blue eyes widened and the butler shook his head to deny it, stopping midway when he saw a small frown on Harry's lips.

"You raised him from the time he was born and til now, so I'm asking because even though I'm terrified of him-" Alfred flinched back at the confession "-I also know that it would hurt you deeply if you were made to abandon him completely and it would destroy him and you both."

A sob tore itself from Alfred's mouth and he pulled away from Harry only to gather the frail boy into his arms to hug, face buried in the messy black hair and then the slim shoulder nook.

"I'm sorry oh god I'm so sorry my boy. I should- I should have known! I-I… Bruce... he…" Alfred turned incoherent after that and Harry wrapped his arms around the older male, cradling him and rubbing his back as he stared into the corner of the room where his book sat, the black and brown cover nearly blending in with the shelf. He could feel their presence not only within his head like gentle pressures but within the room too, they were present but not corporal.

He didn't care what happened to Bruce but he also knew that should something horrible befall the boy then Alfred would crumble apart. Yes in time Harry would be able to put him together again but to see his family in such a state wasn't ideal.

In truth the distorted time he had spent in a coma with Bellatrix and Lucius as the only source of company, what felt like months and even years at a time but in truth only a few weeks had been the most fun he had experienced. Lessons, theories, conspiracies, and plotting.

He hated Bruce Wayne, but he also hated his weakness even more so.

The boy was selfish, self-centered and greedy, he wasn't good enough for Alfred to cry over, to cause the man so much pain in such a short amount of time but he was no different. Unable to defend himself from boys barely older than him he easily added to the pain that was plaguing Alfred.

"D-don't cry grandfather..." he whispered, sniffing as though he was about to do the same but if he completely honest he was all cried out, tear ducts dry and frankly as much as a great pretender he was he couldn't bother to display any tears.

"H..how can I not? W-when he - when I was so blind to it all! I should have left with you, somewhere far away from Gotham, we can still go if you want. Away from here, from the manor f-from Br-Bruce…"

Alfred held him at half an arm's length now and Harry shook his head making the older man fold in on himself. "I don't understand Harry," he admitted again, sniffing and taking out his handkerchief to dab at his eyes and then his nose. "How can you remain in the house where you were abused, how can you not tell me that we have to leave, you know I would within a heartbeat"

"I know."

"Then why."

Harry considered his options and the pressure in his head increased a bit more before returning as it was as if they were nudging him.

"Because I don't think it's completely his fault. Those pills I've seen him take, I think they're doing something to him."

The butler paused, blinking slowly at the new information he received "What pills Harry? The only prescription Bruce has are the anti-depressants that are a simple white and blue pill and nutritional vitamins that we all take."

Harry shook his head again, looking a bit unsure of himself but continued when Alfred called his name softly and he sighed softly, peaking up at Alfred who smiled at him even as his forehead creased again with worry.

"I saw him take a few white ones, they came in an envelope from someone named Crane."

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H.B

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Harry wheeled himself along the hallways of the manor, testing each and every door until he found one unlocked on the west wing. It was empty save for a few broken vases that looked expensive even while covered in a layer of dust, a couple of mannequins and a couple of boxes stacked neatly in a corner. Pushing himself in he made sure to close the door behind him.

Him telling Alfred about the pills wasn't in any intention to be nice towards Bruce but more so as a way to get his grandfather to give him a bit of room and focus his attention on someone else. He needed breathing room and having Alfred hovering over him like a mother henning spectrum was becoming annoying as much as he loved the man.

The book that housed Lucius and Bellatrix's spirits was tucked safely on his lap, the moment the door closed two transparent forms appeared. One of a tall man who stood ramrod straight with long hair cascading down his back, the woman with curly hair done up in a messy bun and wide eyes with an even wider grin.

This was the first time he was seeing them outside of his mind's eye since returning to Wayne Manor and Harry couldn't help but grin back at Bellatrix, Lucius inclining his head in return.

"Harry-kins." she cooed and he got the impression of a hand caressing his cheek when she reached forward to his face.

"The more you work and build your core the more corporal our forms shall be and then -"

"I'll get you two real bodies so you'll stop looking like Casper." he finished and Lucius looked mildly irritated to be interrupted but nodded nonetheless.

"Precisely." the man said primly causing Harry to grin even wider. Lucius was always proper while Bella was more wild and uncaring but no less knowledgeable in her teachings.

"It is time to practice, while internal knowledge is useful you need to perfect your practical ability as well or your core shall go back into its dormant state and we will be back at square one and no one wants that."

"Especially you Lucy. Remember how pissy he was Harry-kins?" Bella taunted, her dark eyes on Lucius who glared back at her and for two old spirits, they squabbled worst than children in Harry's opinion.

From what he managed to overhear or sneakily ask Bella, she and Lucius were related through marriage, the blond man marrying her older sister which made him her brother-in-law but they had known one another since childhood and in the odd thirty-something years they had been alive she never failed to rile him up like an offended cat.

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed the chair closer to the center of the room, one scrawny arm reaching out towards the closest vase as he envisioned it breaking, shattering into a million pieces. He could feel a warmth spreading in his chest, a sign that Lucius said was what a young but growing core felt like. The power was brimming now and he could feel it crawling towards his fingertips, tickling even before he took a deep breath and flung his arm out.

"Reducto!"

Nothing happened and Bella cackled loudly, her form leaning against Lucius who too looked vaguely amused.

"Try again."

And try he did until the little power he had felt building fizzled out and he was left panting as though he was running a marathon and not just continuously flinging his arm out like a madman.

"It's not working! What if I can't do all of the things you said I could. What if I'm broken?"

Stubborn tears brimmed but he refused to let them fall, the two spirits eyeing one another before Lucius hissed at Bella when she shoved him towards the wheelchair-ridden boy.

"Boy." Harry sniffed and glanced at him causing the blond man to raise a brow. "Harry."

Harry stared up at him until Lucius crouched down so they were at near eye level. "You are young and your core is still developing in its first stages. Results will come eventually but it does more harm than good to exhaust your maturing core."

"But I promised you two that I would-"

"And you shall. I will make sure of it. I do not take kindly to being lied to so believe me you, I shall mold you and your magic until you can make this very city tremble under your power if you need it to."

Bellatrix laughed loudly and not for the first time he was glad only he could hear and see them for now, the curly hair woman sauntering up to him and he felt a barely there brush of lips on his forehead.

"Lucy is correct duckling. Magic takes time to learn, time to grow, time to blossom. You'll be super powerful in no time. Super super super powerful my little duckling." she cooed at him and Harry sighed, wiping at his wet eyes, the spirits gone when he opened them once again but the book vibrated before the pages flung open to Lucius' page.

"Back to your room now boy. Your body needs rest and care."

Harry pouted but did as he was told, his room further down the hall than Bruce's was, people, gathered at the young heir's doorway. Continuing on down he heard the shrill sound of a siren and Bruce's screams filling the silence.

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A/n: I'm at university and barely have time to sleep and eat between the workload, so while I am continuing this story just like before the updates shall be given when I have time to write.

Thank you again to all of you who reviewed, liked and faved this and inquired about it.