School break! I took a few days off from doing any kind of writing, as much of my college program involved it. But I am back! :) Please read the first story as this story is a sequel. I post these chapters as a new story and in the old story. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and favourited me and my stories. It is greatly appreciated, and keep it up!
I didn't say a word, as she looked me over. I could tell both of us didn't know what to do or say. I knew I couldn't expect her to forgive me, and I couldn't expect her to even stay in this room another second. But she didn't budge. Her hands hung by her sides, her eyes firmly planted on me. I flickered my gaze away from hers and focused on my dinner resting on the table. I began limping closer to the platter. I spotted my morphed reflection on the silver lid. What looked back at me was a straggly haired, unshaved face with dark circles. A lesser version of the Bruce she had loved.
"Sorry if I am interrupting your dinner," she said, breaking the silence. "I shouldn't have come here."
I glanced up as she spoke to see her turning to leave the room. I tried to speak but my voice wouldn't work. I continued to hesitate as she disappeared through the double doors.
…
"Daddy," I whispered from behind him. "I'm heading home."
"So soon?" He looked concerned as he got a better look at my face. "What's the matter?"
I kissed him on the cheek and forced a smile. "Nothing you need to worry yourself about," I concluded with fake confidence.
He nodded slowly and glanced towards the mansion. "If you say so Morgan. Drive save, it's late. Put the top up."
I gave a snort of a laugh and hugged him. "Yes Daddy, of course."
…
"Master Wayne?" Alfred said, surprised. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing Alfred?" I raised an eyebrow as I carefully put on a dress shirt.
He stayed silent as he watched me before answering. "It looks to me as you are getting dressed in something a little different then your usual pajamas Sir."
I chuckled and nodded. I grabbed my cane and limped my way over to where he was standing. "Excuse me Alfred, I must get to the door." He looked at me in shock. "I'm going to the doctors office."
"Sir, the doctor can come here to the manor if you wish," he told me.
I shook my head. "No Alfred, I will drive myself."
…
Eight years and he couldn't say one word. I thought back to the first time I had met him, and the times following. He never had shut up and I hated him for it, and now I hated him for not speaking. What had happened to him? He looked nothing like the man I had dated. But eight years is a long time. Maybe I hadn't realized that. Maybe I had been thinking he was off in another country with a new girl, maybe even married. But the Bruce that I had seen was far from anything I had pictured in my head after eight years. Maybe it made sense why he did not speak. He gave off the appearance that he didn't do much in the way of anything. He definitely wasn't doing well.
Maybe it had been wrong to leave so quickly. I could have stayed and he would have eventually said something. But instead I had run off. I had moved on and didn't want to go backwards. The thought of going back to where I had been the few weeks after being left on the roof eight years ago, terrified me. And besides, the man in that room had not been the Bruce I had known.
…
"Not good Mr. Wayne. Like I said before, severe permanent damage," the doctor exclaimed as he showed me the x-rays. "I don't see it getting better any time soon, if ever."
My lips pierced together to form a thin line on my face. I nodded and shook his hand as I slowly made my way out of his office. It had been the same answer as always. My leg never fully recovered over the past eight years. I threw my cane into the passenger seat of my Lamborghini and lowered myself into the drivers seat. It felt good to be driving a car again, even if one leg hurt while doing it.
…...
There's nothing like a good cup of coffee to wake me up after lunch. I needed it before I leafed through stories on my desk. I sipped it carefully, trying not to burn my mouth as I strolled down to my office.
"Morgan!" Someone yelled.
"I'm busy," I hollered back. "Talk to me later."
"But Miss!" They continued as I stopped in front of my office door. "There's someone-"
"In a little while please!" I interrupted as I brisk fully escaped into my office. "Bruce!" I shrieked, almost loosing grasp of my coffee.
He was sitting behind my desk, in my chair, with his feet up on my desk, his cane resting on his lap. I stared at his cleanly shaven face as he stared back. After a few moments I gestured him to explain his presence.
"I was waiting for you to tell me to get my god damn ass out of your damn chair," he finally spoke.
I held back a smirk and put my coffee down on my desk. "Well then, will you get out of my god damn chair please?"
"Only because you said please this time," he said while heaving himself off the seat. "Learning your manners after eight years I see."
"Where the hell did you go?" I spat at him.
He froze, all expression disappearing from his face. He breathed out his nose and nodded his head sincerely. "That's a valid question."
I walked around the desk so that I was face to face with him. He looked up from the ground and adjusted his stance with his cane.
"I'm sorry I left you there and that I didn't get Ryan. But I couldn't go back for him," he began while he watched my eyes weld up with tears. "I just couldn't."
"You're fucking Batman Bruce." I choked back tears angrily. "You could have!"
"Fucking look at me Morgan." He shook his cane. "I am not Batman anymore. You're lucky I even got you out of there. And the fact is, if I had even been able to physically make it to Ryan, I would have been arrested because, yes, I was Batman."
We were both angry now and my tears began to blur my vision. I hadn't known about his injury. And even though I had thought of all the reasoning, none of that rational thinking filled my brain right now. I had never factored in that maybe he had gotten hurt.
"I was already damaged Morgan," Bruce continued. "And this will never get better."
All I could do was try and fight back more tears of frustration. I managed to nod so Bruce would know I understood and accepted his reasoning. But the one thing I didn't understand was why he had left me.
"But why leave me there? Why run away for eight years with no contact?" I hit him in the chest and watched him sway from the force. "How could you do that?"
"I should have contacted you. But I am just used to disappearing. I was in the hospital for a while, and in the time they moved everything back into the manor. After that…after that I just didn't think anything I could say would make a difference." His hair was falling across his eyes. "All I can say is I was wrong. I was mad at you for what you had done to get yourself in that mess, and I acted upon that rage. And I am sorry."
My crying breaths fell silent at his words. "I did do a very stupid thing that night."
"You went behind my back. I had no idea where you were!" Bruce lectured. "You were not ready! We had made a deal."
"I'm sorry too then," I apologized. "I'm sorry too."
We stood there in my office with out saying a word. All our questions had been answered about that night eight years ago. All but one, as I still didn't know what had happened to Bruce's leg. I pointed to the chair in front of my desk and he sat down. I took my seat across from him. And he proceeded to tell me what had happened during the explosion at the nightclub. He filled in my memory with the gaps that had been left due to the fear and shock of the blast. I sat there in silence as he calmly told me all about the damage to his joints in his knee and the slim chance he had to regain full use of it.
"So there is no chance of ever being Batman again?" I asked him.
He sighed, "All I can and want to be right now is the Bruce Wayne you fell in love with."
