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~Later that morning~
I awoke after a few hours of needed rest to see Alfred bringing a tray of enough food to feed a small country into my room.
"Good morning, Miss Delaney. I brought you breakfast and the news that I called into Wayne Enterprises for you." He set the plates on my lap and I dug in hungrily. It'd been a while since I'd had time for such an elaborate feast in bed. Usually, it would be me scrambling to get to work on time before Earle got there. Now, I could relax and enjoy a late breakfast with my best friend-wait a minute.
"Where's Bruce?" I asked, taking a drink of my orange juice.
"He went down to the courthouse. Victor Zsasz's trial was today and he was hoping to catch a glimpse of Miss Dawes," he explained. I set down my fork, shaking my head.
I knew Bruce would've wanted to see Rachel as soon as he could. But I was hoping he would've waited until Alfred and I could cook up a press statement or something, explaining why he'd disappeared for seven years and then suddenly reappeared like nothing had happened.
Yeah, don't think 'trained by assassin ninjas' would go over well for the company, I thought sarcastically. Then I remembered something very important and almost had food come shooting out of my mouth.
Bruce was alive, which meant that Alfred wasn't majority share holder anymore, which meant- Bruce could stop Earle from going public!
Climbing out of bed and narrowly missing upsetting the tray of half eaten breakfast, I grabbed for my cell phone and…paused.
"Alfred, did Bruce take a cell phone with him?" I asked.
It had occurred to me that I didn't know what had happened to Bruce's first phone. No doubt it had gone out of service for seven years and was probably discarded in an alley way somewhere.
"I believe he did. I took the liberty of purchasing a new one when Master Wayne first contacted me," he said, straightening the dangerously tipping dishes.
I dialed in the new number and sat, waiting while it rung.
"Alfred, I thought I told you I was on stakeout-" came Bruce's annoyed voice on the other end.
"What are you doing in public?" I demanded, "And what do you mean 'stakeout'?"
"Lane? How did- never mind. Look, I needed to do a few things and-"
"You could be seen!" I berated angrily, "I don't care how important it is, if you were exposed before we could come up with a reasonable excuse, everyone would have a lot of explaining to do. Now, come home so we can work out some reason-"
"Look, Delaney, I'm in disguise," he interrupted, aggravated, "No one would recognize me anyway. Quit worrying. I've got to go." Before I could retort, he'd ended the call and I sat back, hurt.
Bruce never called me Delaney on purpose. It was always Laney, Lane, or Princess. The only time he called me by my full name was when he was angry or annoyed with me. Without warning, tears began to bud in my eyes and I became angry with myself.
Why in the world was I crying? It was a stupid name for God's sakes.
It's because he was mad at you for calling, said a tiny voice in the back of my mind, He was always happy to hear from you and now he doesn't want to. Plus, he's with Rachel.
"Miss Delaney?" Alfred asked timidly, taking notice of my wounded expression. I shook myself out of it and stood up, placing an indifferent mask on my face.
"If you need me, I'll be in the study working on a few things for Mr. Earle," I breathed, trying to act cold. I grabbed my laptop and strode down the hallway, opening the door of Thomas Wayne's private library and shutting it behind me. There, I let a few stray tears fall, sniffling.
The last time he'd called me Delaney was the day of our first huge fight. It made a hurricane look like a sprinkle of rain.
After kissing me in Paris, Bruce and I started growing apart. I resented him because he'd acted like nothing had happened that day at the Eiffel Tower. I wasn't sure if he thought it was a mistake or if it was just too awkward to talk about. So I started rebelling against everyone, a sign I was growing into the cliché teenage hellion nightmare. Bruce stayed more and more at Princeton and barely talked to me. One night, a couple of weeks after starting my freshman year at Gotham Private, the animosity between us had finally come to a head
*Flashback*
My high heels click-clacked on the tile floor of the manor as I stalked away from Bruce, beyond furious. I heard him enter and close the door before starting after me.
"Laney, come here," he ordered, firmly. I ignored him, beginning for the stairs to my room.
"Laney, get back down here now," he growled dangerously. I continued to climb the steps as if I didn't hear him.
"DELANEY MARIE! YOU LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW!" he roared. I paused on my journey, in veiled surprise. He'd never called me by my real name. Instead of scaring me, however, it made my blood boil.
"What Bruce? What the hell do you want? You're not my father!" I screamed, turning and vaulting myself down the steps at break-neck speed.
"What the hell was that back there, huh? A party? Really? I thought you were smarted than that! You're fourteen, Delaney!" he yelled.
"So? I'm in high school, Bruce! What you just left, so don't start acting like you know the world backwards and forwards because you don't!" I screeched.
"You're right, I don't. But that doesn't mean that you do either. You're a freshman, for the love of God! And you're dressing like a street walker! Look at you!" he gestured to my body and I looked down.
I was dressed in the shortest mini-skirt known to mankind, with a pink tube top and black, 3 inch stiletto heels. For fourteen, I walked fairly well in them. My face was caked with make-up and my hair was sprayed within an inch of its life into an enormous poof that had to have raised my height at least another four inches. With my heels, I was close to Bruce's stature of six feet.
"So?" I asked haughtily, crossing my arms across my chest. He laughed mockingly.
"Just listen to yourself! You sound like a spoiled little brat! What happened to you, Laney? I leave for college for a month and all of a sudden, you turn into a Barbie doll that goes to parties thrown by people older than me!" his gaze burned into mine, filled with anger and disappointment. My own eyes narrowed, the heavy liner I'd used making them seem even angrier.
"Don't you dare act so innocent, Bruce Wayne. I've seen the pictures of you and those sluts you call dates traipsing back to your dorm at Princeton at three in the morning. I've seen you walking into the frat parties that I know have kegs inside. Don't start preaching to me about right and wrong until you can take responsibility for your actions!" I bellowed.
"And what about where I caught you, huh? Were you ready to take responsibility for a pregnancy? Were you ready to have a baby? Did you think about that when you had your skirt hiked up and sitting in that guy's lap? Think about your actions, Delaney!" he screamed in my face. I reached up and slapped him as hard as I could across the face and he reeled back from the blow.
"How do you know I haven't? What makes you think I'm so innocent?" I hissed evilly. It was a low blow and I knew it, but seeing the realization dawn on his face made me cheer on the inside. I'd finally caught Bruce by surprise and victory was sweet.
"What happened to you? What happened to my best friend?" he whispered in agony. I scoffed.
"She grew up, Bruce. It's what happens in life." I retorted, starting for the stairs, before turning back.
"Oh, by the way. You didn't think about your actions the day you kissed me, huh? You didn't say a word to me until we left and then you acted like nothing happened! News flash, Bruce! It did happen! And you didn't even have the guts to own up to it!"
"You're bringing that into this?" he asked, following me.
"Yes I'm bringing that into this! You didn't know how hurt I was when you didn't say a word to me after it happened! You acted like it was a total mistake and I began to believe you. Imagine thinking that your first kiss was a farce! That one special moment in your life meant nothing!" Tears began streaming down my face as my true feelings erupted out of me. For so long, I'd ignored the pain of his dismissal. Now, I couldn't stop the betrayal from slashing at my heart.
He reached out for me, and I knew he only wanted to quiet me. He only wanted me to stop crying. So I wrenched myself out of his reach as choking sobs tore through my mouth.
"I HATE YOU! I hate you, Bruce Wayne! I never want to see you again!" I screamed finally, turning and sprinting to my room. Once there, I collapsed against the locked door and wept. I already regretted my words and actions that night, but the pain kept me from unlocking the door and running into his arms like I always did when I was upset. This needed to be said and I couldn't take anything back.
I feel asleep curled on the floor by the door, unaware that Bruce was in the same position on the other side.
*End of Flashback*
That next morning, I'd looked in the mirror and was disgusted with both my appearance and my actions the night before. I'd been crushed to learn that Bruce had taken the early flight back to Princeton, convinced it was because he hated me. For the next few weeks I fell into a depression, only going to school and coming straight back to my house. I avoided the manor like the plague and stayed in on the weekends so as to not run into Bruce by accident. I began to stop eating and sleeping; my weight dropping from a healthy 110 pounds to a weak 87. I began to frequently have nightmares and my grades dropped.
It was my father who took things into his own hands. After catching me when I'd collapsed from exhaustion one day, he took me to a hospital to have me checked out. When the doctor diagnosed me with depression, he'd called Bruce himself.
"She's not well, Bruce. She needs her friend here. Please hurry."
The next morning, I awoke to Bruce sleeping peacefully with his head on my bed and my hand clutched in his. He'd woken up to my hand running softly through his hair. His own grief showed plainly on his face, in the dark black circles under his eyes and the gaunt look about his face. We didn't speak until I sat up and he pulled me into a gentle hug, burying his face in my hair.
"I didn't mean what I said," I'd croaked.
"I know," he'd whispered brokenly.
Pulling myself out of the memory and returning to the present, I straightened and focused on the task at hand. Jessica had sent me an email, reminding me about the board meeting the next day that I had to attend. I groaned, not looking forward to having to hear the stuffy old men fight over who earned more last year and who was more important to the company. Plus the fact that I knew I was the object of a lot of their naughty secretary fantasies. Ewww.
For the rest of the morning, I worked on reports and presentations Earle needed in the upcoming weeks. I lost myself in the tedious tasks until a figure snuck up behind me and watched me, completely silent.
"What are you doing?" he asked finally in a quiet voice. I yelped in shock, clutching my rapidly beating heart and swiveling around to see him cocking his head in confusion.
"Jesus, Bruce! Warn a gal next time!" I snapped, still miffed at him after our beef that morning.
"Earle's going public." He didn't ask, only stated the fact. His fingers swept across my computer, pulling up Earle's records. I slapped his hands away and closed the cover.
"As a matter of fact he is. Like I was trying to tell you earlier before you hung up on me, we need to come up with a statement about your disappearance so that Earle has to go through you to do it. You still hold the majority shares of Wayne Enterprises," I said matter-of-factly, taking in his appearance.
He was wearing an orange hoodie with a denim jacket over it that matched the old pair of jeans he'd used. His face was shadowed from the brim of an old baseball cap and his face was dirty. I raised an eyebrow.
"This was your disguise?" I asked arrogantly.
"It worked, didn't it?" he retorted. My face darkened.
"Get out, I have work to do," I growled, grabbing my laptop. To my surprise, he did leave and I sat back down to work. Unfortunately, his reappearance scrambled my mind and made it hard for me to concentrate. After making the same slide for a PowerPoint three times, I grunted in frustration and snapped off the computer, stalking into my room to take a hot shower.
After I was clean, and in a better mood, I walked back to the study to see Bruce cross-legged on the floor. Surrounding him were newspaper clippings, pictures, and a notepad on which he was scribbling furiously. He'd changed out of his hobo clothing and into a pair of grey sweats and a dark blue sweatshirt. His hair was combed back, like when I'd first seen him, and he was clean shaven again.
"What in the world are you doing?" I asked, twirling a piece of my wet hair around my finger.
"Research," he answered shortly, picking up a picture and studying it. I peered over his shoulder and looked at it myself.
It was Sergeant Jim Gordon from the Gotham City Police Department. He was standing outside of a building, looking over his shoulder.
Gordon was the cop Alfred and I'd filed the missing person's report with all those years ago. He'd also been one of the first cops out combing the city for Bruce.
"I was with him that night," he'd said, "I was there when he was a scared little boy who'd just lost his parents. Now, I want to be there when we find him."
Suddenly, a small squeak made both of us look up from the picture. We didn't see anything and shrugged it off until we heard it again. This time, Bruce stood up and peered over in the corner. I watched him carefully.
A tiny vampire bat flew in the corner of the room, trapped where he couldn't get away. It screeched with fear at not being able to find a way out. Bruce just stared at it. He'd been afraid of bats since he was eight, when he fell down the old well in the garden and broke his arm. They'd attacked him while he sat down there for hours, waiting for someone to find him.
"Blessed bat again, sir," explained Alfred, bringing a tea tray for the two of us, "They nest somewhere in the grounds."
The two of us watched wearily as he gazed at the mammal with such intensity, I wondered if he could hear its thoughts.
"Bruce?" I asked timidly. He focused on me and I saw a spark of curiosity in his hazel eyes.
"Change into something sturdy," he ordered, making his way out of the room, "And help me find that old climbing rope."
Alfred and I exchanged a puzzled look, but left to do what he'd asked us to do. I changed into a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt before pulling on my old chucks and tying my still damp hair into a ponytail.
I made my way downstairs where Alfred and Bruce were pulling a long blue rope out of a broom closet. Bruce rested it on his shoulder before grabbing my hand and leading me out the door and into the garden.
"What are we doing?" I asked, as we came to a stop by a patch of over grown grass and weeds. He let go of my hand and passed me the rope as he began pulling up the brush.
"Cave exploring," he muttered. To my surprise, the boarded up remains of the well he'd fallen into appeared from under the vegetation. I stared on in shock as he ripped the boards up with little to no resistance and began tying one end of the rope to an old rusty hook on the side. From there, he stood on the edge and began tying the other end around his waist.
"Are you insane?" I bugged out. He looked up at me.
"Yup," he smirked before repelling down into the well.
For a while, all I could hear was the sounds of Bruce moving around at the bottom of the shaft. The scraping of his shoes against the rocks and then… silence.
"Bruce? Are you okay?" I called down. No answer. My foot tapped nervously against the ground as five minutes passed…ten…twenty…
"Lane!" he cried. I yelped and almost toppled over into the well after him. I peered over the edge to see his victorious face. He climbed up in no time, pulling the rest of the rope with him and swinging himself over the edge and onto solid ground. He picked me up and swung me around, laughing joyously the whole time.
"What did you do, make friends with the bats or something?" I teased when he finally set me down. If possible, his smile widened and he laughed.
"Something like that," he grinned.
A/N: Sorry I haven't updated lately, but homework and extra curricular stuff made the past two weeks SUPER busy. I litterally had something going on everyday this week. But here is chapter 6 with a little Bruce/Laney flashback action. You had to know that kissing your best friend would have some repercussions, right? ;) Thank you to all who have reviewed/favorited/alerted/read this story and for your continued support. Until next time~Brooke