APPROX. 0900 HOURS
"Rise and shine, Master Thomas. You've an important meeting today, don't forget."
Alfred gently opened the curtains to the master bedroom as he spoke. A dim light pierced through the window, and Alfred looked outside for how the day looked. It was somewhat overcast, particularly gray and gloomy. A dull grayish-blue sky hung over the manor's well-kept garden. Bits of green from certain perennials and shrubs mixed with the dull brown of some withered, dead trees looked back at Alfred from under blankets of white snow. Normally, every Monday was lawn day and the garden would have been freshly worked on the day prior. An expert team of lawn care professionals were hired to come in once a week and tend all the greenery; yet in this season, they only came in to shovel the main driveways when or if it snowed. Alfred may have considered himself a somewhat extraordinary man, but not so much that he could tend to such a large property by his lonesome. Thomas knew this, and was happy to pay for the service.
As Alfred turned around, he saw that Thomas was already up and out of bed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and donning a simple bathrobe that hung at his bedside when he slept. Thomas's eyes, however, were fixed on the other side of the bed to where he slept. His gaze was withdrawn. Every morning… Alfred noticed, thinking to himself. Every morning, without fail. He frowned. Hell, it still hurt Alfred to see that side of the bed empty after all these years. Politely, he cleared his throat, to perhaps take Thomas back to reality.
He shook his head, and looked towards Alfred.
"Oh, yeah. Thank you, Alfred. At 11, right?" Thomas asked.
"Indeed. The shower has been readied for you, and I believe a neutral red suit will fit for today." Alfred said.
"Sounds good." Thomas rose from his seat, stretching and began proceeding to the Master Bathroom connected to the Master Bedroom.
"What time did you get in last night, sir?"
"About 5:30." Thomas replied, not looking weary at all. "Extra patrols and scouting the records office. Tonight I'll visit."
"No doubt that training in the Himalayas paid off quite well if you're this spry after only three hours of sleep."
"Kicking yourself because that would have helped in Iraq?" Thomas joked.
"Of course, sir." Alfred tried not to smile. It was unbecoming of the help to emote in such a way, but damn if Thomas didn't try to force it at times.
"Oh, and don't worry about breakfast. I ate before I slept." Thomas remarked before entering the bathroom.
Thomas made it to the running shower, and after undressing he stepped in. The warmth of the rushing water against his aching muscles was a godsend. The pressure on his skin was just right to feel like he was going to fall asleep again. After a long night, he wanted to be late for whatever meeting he had.
His mind drifted to the current case. The walls of ice, the string of thefts, what the effects of the flower were, how Cobblepot tied into this. One part of him just wanted to continue his work during the day. However, he knew that would cause a slew of more problems than it was worth. Not only would he work himself to death, but god forbid Thomas Wayne disappears again. The public would put him under much more scrutiny than he already was. Most importantly was Bruce. He knew he had to be there for Bruce, but connecting with him was hard. Balancing Batman and Fatherhood was even harder. It didn't matter how much he tried on one side vs. the other.
"Alfred, you dropped Bruce off at his school today, right?" He called out from the bathroom, thinking about his son. Despite it being Christmas-time, Bruce's school was holding a holiday get-together and gift exchange. It was a private school that opted to gather the students for events during time off. They believed it built character and comradery, it was a safe environment, and it gave the parents time for themselves. Money well spent, in their opinion. Alfred, who was outside of the bathroom and organizing Thomas's clothes for the day, perked his head up.
"Yes, Master Thomas." Alfred responded. "He was, yet again, quite silent on the drive there."
"I think I might try to drive him next time." Thomas responded, a bit down at hearing that.
"With all due respect of course, you may need to arrive home earlier from your third job if you wish to do that." His words slowed towards the end as he debated between a black tie or a dark red tie. Thomas merely grunted in response, letting the soothing water hit his back now. "Speaking of your third job, you made the rounds in the paper again. Twice, this time."
"Ryder and Vale got a photo of me?" His words didn't sound worried, only curious.
"No, only testimony from a rather traumatized set of individuals. Did you really have to break his arm and leg?"
"I didn't have to, but it certainly helped scare them." Thomas didn't seem proud, but at least somewhat satisfied with the result.
"Indeed. Furthermore, your visiting with Ms. Isley was accounted for by some thankful firefighters. I take it Mr. Lynns wasn't too pleased to see you?"
"Nope." Now that he was a bit proud of. "Speaking of him, I need to drop a package off at Lucius's office. Could you handle that for me while I'm at my consultation?"
"Certainly, sir."
After a while Thomas had finished with his shower. Once dried, he went to get dressed. Alfred had left to get the car started, which gave him some privacy. Thomas took one last, longing, loving look at Martha's side of the bed. He frowned. God, he missed her dearly. His thoughts turned to when he woke up next to her glowing and smiling face. How the hell could a woman who worked as hard as she had always wake up with a smile? It drove him mad in all the right ways.
Thomas sighed, and reserved his feelings for later. He left the room and tried to put his mind off of it.
DECEMBER 23, 2003
APPROX. 1311 HOURS
"Um… I'm sorry I'm late, Dr. Wayne."
A slender, wry man entered Thomas's office, with a somewhat lost look on his face. Thomas greeted him with a somewhat (but not entirely) forced smile. He was going over tomorrow's procedure and what exactly it entailed. It was fully ingrained in his mind at that point. The patient blinked a few times, standing in the doorway with his right arm awkwardly holding onto the door.
"You're quite alright." He lied partially. While it was useful to have that much time to go over the procedure, he would have preferred to start on time three hours ago. "Traffic kept you?"
"Uh… y-yeah…" The patient chuckled nervously. Thomas immediately clocked him as a liar. His forehead was damp with beads of sweat, his breathing was uneven, and it looked as if his pulse could be rapid. I suppose it doesn't matter too much. Thomas mused. The man's personal life wasn't for Thomas to question or worry about. At least this saved him from a headache of a call with the FDA.
"I spoke with Dr. Thomas Elliot yesterday…" The patient's voice was heavily accented and at a higher pitch. Like a soft, yet noticeable flute in the background of an orchestra, he kept speaking. "I'm happy to meet you…"
"That's quite good then. Come on in and take a seat." Thomas gestured, attempting to hide what little impatience he had now.
The man settled into Thomas's ornate office, looking uncomfortable. The next major thing that Thomas noticed was the man's limp, lame left arm. It hung at his side and was slightly smaller than his right arm. Once the man was settled, Thomas opened a folder, and grabbed a pen.
"Before the procedure on Thursday, we just need to finalize some of your evaluations."
"O-oh! Right, like- like Dr. Elliot the other day."
"Right, he should have already taken quite a lot of information down, so no need for me to go over it again." Thomas looked down at the list in front of him. Much of the information was indeed already filled out. His name, age, social security number- everything was vetted by Tommy Elliot the other day. Considering how nervous the patient looked, Thomas took it upon himself to at least make sure he was of sound mind for the next day.
"You know, that doctor sure seemed in a bit of a hurry." The patient said.
"Was he now? It seems like he got everything down…" Thomas looked at the file again.
"I dunno, it just seemed like he didn't want to be there?" He sounded very curious. Thomas didn't think that Tommy Elliot would be lazy, especially with everything that was jotted down in front of him.
"Well, no harm in going over it again, no?"
"I guess not…"
"What's your full name, and how do you spell your last name?" Getting started, Thomas clicked his pen and followed the letters as he spoke.
"My name is…" he hesitated. "Redd J. Bower." He said before spelling his last name.
"No J. here." Thomas noticed. "What's it stand for?"
"Uh… Jameson."
"Date of birth?"
"March 30th, 1968."
The next few minutes were spent double checking the information on Elliot's intake form. All of it appeared to match what was written yesterday.
"You look rather uncomfortable, Mr. Bower!" Thomas looked at him. "Is it a bit too hot in here?"
"No no! It's just…" More hesitation, like his words were being carefully picked. "I'm not a big fan of surgeries."
"But, you signed up for this?" Thomas was very keen about this nervous wreck that was in front of him.
"Oh, it's a price to pay to get this fixed." Redd gestured with his good arm to his limp one as he also tried wiggling it. "I-I figure it's high time to actually start using it…" His voice always seemed to trail in an odd manner.
"Yes, and the cause is this degenerative disease that started in your left ulnar nerve?"
"Uh… yeah, that's right!" Bower said. "Started when I was about 16."
"Hm, right." Thomas noted that down. It wasn't previously written, but Thomas had a knack for jotting down extra notes he thought might come in handy. "Well, all seems to be in order, we're just going to get some extra vitals and your blood pressure leading up to the procedure. After that, I'll have you double check your list of allergies and we'll be all set."
"S-sounds good."
The man was certainly an oddity. Thomas took his stethoscope and took the man's vitals. Elevated, like I thought. Then he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his good arm, and began the process of getting a reading.
"So uh… you been keeping up with that ice thief news?"
Bower's eyes were fixed on the newspaper on Thomas's desk. It had been turned to the page about the previous night's escapades, with a prominent picture of an iced-over wall - bits of icy spikes and frost sticking out of different surfaces. Ryder took some good photos, Thomas would definitely give him that.
"Hm, just reading the news."
"You know, I think that Batman guy is actually pretty swell." Bower was trying to make conversation while this was going on. "You think he's gonna get this iceman everyone's talking about?" There was a genuinely curious smile on his face. If it calmed him down, Thomas would keep the conversation going.
"Hm, I think he's a bit rough… To be quite honest, I'm not entirely sure how to feel about him. I think I need more time to think about it." Thomas gave a neutral answer- as not to discourage him.
"I think the cops should let him be. That guy has been doing some good stuff for us lately."
"You think so?"
"I do, and I wish others could wisen up to what he's doing for us."
"Not too many people like the Batman, do they?"
"No, but I know a few people who think he's just great. You think he's the autograph type?"
"If what he did last night is any indication according to the papers, then I think an autograph from him would put you in our ER downstairs."
Bower began belly laughing. The quip wasn't even that funny, Thomas had thought. It caught him off guard, but thankfully the readings were finished so he didn't worry about it too much. His laughter echoed for a time, before he wiped a tear out of his eye, his nervousness gone now.
Huh. He thought. I guess Batman is doing some good. Thomas hadn't seen firsthand the influence that Batman was having on people. The media had been decrying him, but internally it somewhat made him feel better about what he was doing. But of course, he wasn't doing what he did for the opinion of people. Just a nice side effect.
"Okay, everything looks good. I'll let you fill out this form, and we can-"
Thomas was interrupted by a sudden ringing coming from his desk. His office phone lit up a lime-green color as it continued screaming at him. A sour feeling dropped into his stomach. He hadn't a clue why, but he had an awful feeling about this.
"Mr. Bower, how about you fill this out in the lobby and give it to one of the nurses while I take this, no?"
"Sure thing, Doc. Nice meeting you!"
He left with a smile and a wave as Thomas begrudgingly sat down and answered it.
"Wayne." He answered.
"Dr. Wayne, you have a call on line two from your Butler, Mr. Pennyworth." A hospital receptionist spoke.
"Thank you." He quickly tapped the button for line two.
"Yes, Alfred?"
"Sir, I hate to bother you at this time, but it's Master Bruce." Alfred spoke, sounding a bit worried. "He's found himself in a spot of trouble it seems."
Thomas sighed. "With what?"
"The Falcone Family."