Shots

"Today is the first day of the rest of your lives. Tomorrow you will go out into the world to great accomplishments, to future careers, and to saving lives...Oh, why did I write that? That is such a cliche." Bruce groaned and put his papers down in his lap.

"I don't know. It's true isn't it?" Jameson was sitting next to Bruce in the backseat of the car they were in. Thomas and his usual bodyguard were sitting in the front.

"More like poking at death with a stick - how is this supposed to inspire a bunch of graduates? Why was I chosen to give this speech? I'm not good at public speaking."

"But you can be." Thomas called. "Remember the debate club when you were in high school?"

"Don't remind me."

"Look, Most of these kids are going to be so excited about graduating you could say anything and they'd appreciate it. Besides, the cliches are cliches because they're good. The key thing is to project confidence. So long as you sound like you know what you're talking about people will trust that you do."

"That sounds like a con artist technique."

"You'll be fine. Remember to breathe. We're here."

Bruce sighed as Jameson and Charlie got out of the car. He shuffled his notes around. As cliche as they were he didn't have the time to change them now. After the bodyguards had taken a quick look around, Thomas and Bruce also got out.

When they came up to the entrance a man with dark hair and light brown skin was waiting for them. "Thomas! It's good to see you. And young Bruce! I'm so glad you agreed to come speak today. I would have asked old Dr. Munro but she had a conference in Central City. Besides, I'm pretty sure they want to hear from someone closer to their own age. Do you have your speech ready?"

"I do...It's not the best but-"

"Don't worry they'll love it."

Thomas smiled and shook his hand. "I'm glad you invited us Professor. It is an honour."

The two older doctors continued talking as they made their way up to the stage. Bruce tried not to look at the large crowd that was filling up the open air amphitheatre that the graduation ceremony for the graduates of Gotham University Medical School was being held in. It was far bigger than any class he ever taught. This would be a lot easier if he wasn't suddenly having doubts about every sentence of the speech he had written.

The speeches and reviews and other miscellaneous things that occur during these sorts of ceremonies passed in a blur. Mainly because Bruce decided that his high score of Bounce on his XOver needed to be beaten as a distraction from his upcoming train wreck of a speech. Maybe that pulling feeling in his gut that told him something was about to go horribly wrong would finally let up. Instinct had served him brilliantly well so far (both in a medical setting and in, well, a setting in which he nearly got shot) but at this second? It was doing nothing but driving him to distraction.

And then they were calling him up.

All the students were staring up at Bruce, waiting expectantly. Bruce could do this. It would be fine. He cleared his throat and started speaking. "Today is the first day of the rest of your lives…"

"Get down!"

Bruce barely had time to turn and catch a glimpse of a teenage boy charging at him. The boy tackled him and they both crashed to the ground.

BANG

Screams filled the auditorium. Bruce tried to shift the boy off of him but stopped when his hand hit something wet. Oh god.

"Bruce!" He looked up to see Jameson leaning over him. "Are you alright? Charles is calling the police and an ambulance."

"Don't just move him." Thomas leaned over next to him. "That's a gunshot wound. Let me look at it. Bruce, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Bruce craned his head trying to get a look around the body on top of him. "What's going on?"

"Jameson and Charlie are securing the area. Professor Lee-Scott is calling the cops. I can get him off of you and we can get him to the hospital in one moment. I just need to make sure that bullet didn't travel up into the pelvis." Thomas conducted a quick examination. The screams had died down some as either someone got the crowd under control or the crowd had all run off. "Okay. Looks like it hit him in the bulk of his left vastus muscles. I can't tell if any major ligaments or arteries have been hit. Move him- carefully- off of Bruce and on the ground. Did anyone recover the bullet? I found an exit wound."

As the boy was lifted off of Bruce, he let out a low moan. "It's alright," said Thomas. "We're going to get you taken care of. The ambulance is on its way."

The boy suddenly began to struggle. "No- I can't-"

"Kid. Calm down. If you keep moving like that you'll-"

"I can't go to a hospital!"

"It's alright. The Wayne foundation will take care of the bill-"

"I can't! They'll find me!"

The boy was really struggling now. Thomas and a couple of other people tried to hold him down to attempt applying pressure to the wounds but he was thrashing around too much for them to do anything. Bruce stood up, distantly surprised that he was able to stand without shaking. He made his way over and joined the other doctors leaning over the boy. He couldn't get a clear view of the injury with all the thrashing.

"Please calm down! You're just injuring yourself more!"

"I can't!"

"Dad," Bruce placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder. "Is there somewhere we can treat him that isn't the hospital."

"Well, there are some clinics but the hospital has the best resources for treating a gunshot wound."

"He's not going to go to a hospital without fighting us and aggravating it. If we can find another place we can treat him more easily and he shouldn't injure himself more."

"You're probably right…" Thomas turned back to the young man. "We can take you to a clinic. You're going to be fine."

"Don't take me- don't take me anywhere they can find me-" The boy stopped thrashing around for a moment but his eyes continued to dart round, trying to see what was going on. Bruce had seen a lot of scared people before. People who were scared for themselves, or for their loved ones. The boy's eyes were wide and he looked around as though he was expecting someone to jump their group on the stage at any moment. He was terrified.

It was just now starting to register in Bruce's brain that he had jumped in front of a bullet for him. He had gotten up on stage in time to get in the way of the bullet. He had somehow known this was coming and put himself at extreme risk to stop it. Bruce didn't even know him. He didn't look like any of his patients.

If he had known this was going to happen…

"He knows the people who just tried to kill me."

Thomas swung around to stare at Bruce. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Think about it! To rush up on stage like that he had to have known what would happen when- when no one else did. Security didn't see anything until-" Bruce realised he was breathing quickly and tried to take a few deep breaths. "He doesn't want to go to a hospital because he would be recognised and someone would find him. He wouldn't be this scared unless whomever is looking for him is dangerous. Dangerous enough to-"

"Dangerous enough to kill," Thomas finished. "Dammit! You're right. Until the police get the shooter and figure out what's going on we can't take him anywhere well known that people would look. But those are all the places that have the ability to care of this kind of injury. Unless…"

The sound of footsteps came pounding up behind him. "Dr. Wayne!" Charlie came to a halt next to Thomas. "We can't find where the shooter was or where they could have gone. They probably left after they took the shot but we can't be sure. For your safety, everyone should get out of the open areas. The police will be here in a couple minutes. Also, I found the round." He held up a zip-lock bag with the evidence inside it. Thomas' eyes narrowed.

"That's a 9x39mm, haven't seen one of those since I served with General Lane…" He nodded firmly and snapped, "Charlie, we need to leave. And we're taking that young man with us. Make sure to hand that over to forensics."

"What? An ambulance was called and-"

"He can't go in the ambulance. You can move him once he's calmed down some but be careful. He's aggravated his injuries enough." Thomas crouched back down next to the young man. "It's going to be alright. We aren't going to a hospital, we're going to someplace private. Just stay calm. You'll be fine."

One of the other doctors tried to ask what Thomas was doing but he had already stood up and gone back to Bruce. "I need to make some calls to organise this. We're going to have to give our statements to the police later, which they aren't going to be happy about. Are you doing alright Bruce?"

"I'm fine. I'm not the one who was shot!"

"Okay. I need you to look after the boy for now and for most of the ride back. I'd rather not transport him so far but we need to make a plan now and I don't have any other ideas. Can you do that?"

"Sure. But where are we going?"

"Home. To the manor. It's private, I can call some people to get us equipment, and we've got the space to set something up. And if your theory is right about him being connected to the shooter it would be good to get him somewhere isolated. Now Charlie, where is the car?" Thomas turned away and began making arrangements.

Bruce took a deep breath and sank down next to the boy bleeding on the ground. He had calmed down a bit after Thomas had told him they were going someplace private but he was still tense and his eyes kept flickering around. Various medical professionals were on hand to triage in preparation to minimise bleeding before operation.

And then Alfred showed up.

It wasn't often that Bruce forgot that Alfred Pennyworth had been the best damn emergency responder NATO had seen, but seeing it in action was truly something . He started by hurrying anyone who wasn't actively doing something out of there so that they all had more space to work. He had brought a giant bag of supplies with him, so was able to quickly and efficiently bandage the wound.

Within a few minutes, someone had rolled over a collapsible gurney and Bruce found himself helping Jameson get the boy on to it. As they carried him down to the front entrance of the amphitheatre, Bruce noticed that most of the audience had gotten out of there. They probably didn't want to hang around. When they reached the car Alfred directed them to roll the gurney across the back seat. Alfred got in with him, sitting on the floor of the car next to him. Monitoring the boy's vitals. Thomas was already sitting in the driver's seat so Bruce climbed into the front passenger seat. Then he realised something.

"Charlie and Jameson-"

"They'll talk to the police and get home later," Thomas said. Then he slammed down on the accelerator.

They definitely broke a few traffic laws on the way back to the manor. When Bruce shot Thomas an alarmed look after they cut across several lanes of downtown Gotham traffic, he shrugged. "We don't have sirens and we can afford to pay the fines. It's okay."

"It won't be okay if we get into an accident on the way!"

"You're one to talk with how you drove as a teenager!"

They somehow made it back to Wayne Manor without any incident. As the car pulled to a stop, Bruce sprung out of the car and helped Alfred carry the collapsible gurney inside, while Thomas ran ahead.

"They should have set up in one of the ground floor guest rooms- ah ha! Bring him in here!"

The bed had been pushed to the side to make space for an operating table. A set of clean surgical tools was resting on the nightstand. Bruce and Alfred got the boy onto the operating table as Thomas started pulling out some gloves.

"Okay, the bandaging was good but I want to look at this to make sure it's fine. Alfred, I could use your help in here. Bruce," Thomas sighed. "Why don't you take some rest. We can take it from here. I've already called Martha."

"Are you sure you don't need me?"

"We'll be fine."

Bruce hesitated a bit before leaving the room. He wanted to make sure the boy was okay, but his father was one of the best surgeons in Gotham. "Alright."

"I need to get some more gloves," said Alfred. "I'll be back in one moment"

Alfred followed Bruce out of the room. Bruce realised he was breathing heavily again. It was hard to believe everything that had just happened.

"The boy will be fine. Why don't you sit down?" He gestured to an old armchair that someone had left in the hallway. It had probably been moved out of the guest room. "You've had a long day."

"Yeah…" Bruce sighed. For the first time he actually let his mind cast back over the course of the day. Everything had happened so fast. Guns had been pointed at Bruce a number of times at this point but he hadn't even seen where the bullet had come from. It had just… "Alfred, I could have died today."

"But you didn't. And the young man who saved your life will survive also. Your mother will be home soon. Do you want anything else before I go back in there?"

"No, I…" Bruce slumped down into the chair. "I think I just need to sit here for a while."

AN: Thanks once again for reading! If you'd like to contact us via tumblr, my handle is eastoniablogs!