Authors note: hello everyone! Thanks for your continued support for my story! I had a recent review from someone who pointed out that in the last chapter it seemed like I said 17 was close to the age when his parents died. Thanks so much for telling me, I've edited the last chapter and hopefully this chapter will explain a little better why this age is significant to my story :) any who let us begin!
Disclaimer: me no own DC ok?
Reunion
Chapter 6: A Memory
Batman sat alone, left to the company of his own thoughts. Petail had dimmed the light to represent the evening outside the Cave. Memories clouded his head, warping him back in time to before he became the Dark Knight.
18 years previously
Bruce Wayne walked tiredly down the lit streets of Gothem, the heavens above him threatening to unload its heavy liquid content. It was nearly 8 at night, he had just returned from Gothem Airport. Bruce was not looking forward to staying in Gothem again. It brought back too many painful memories. He had lost too much here. He'd been training in France for the past 12 months, learning the art of man-hunting. However the time had come to move on and besides, he couldn't leave Alfred for such a long period of time. He loved the Butler and saw him as a father figure as well as a friend.
Bruce walked past a variety of bars and clubs, the stench of alcohol piercing his nose and the cacophony of smashes and laughter grating his ears. In front of him, two women dressed in flimsy attire stumbled out a bar, grasping and giggling at a man whom Bruce recognized. He had been a classmate at school. The man, obviously drunk, turned and faced Bruce head on.
"Well looky here! It's my old chum Brucey!" The man staggered over to him. "Where ya been, rich boy? Counting mommie and daddies money on a private jet somewhere?" His words sent the two women into a bout of hysterical laughter. Bruce's hands curled into fists and he did everything he could to stop himself lashing out.
The man got closer, inches away from his face. "School was below you wasn't it, Wayne. A drop out at 14. Your parents would be so proud."
Bruce's anger boiled over and with a yell his fist connected with the drunk's jaw. Knocked flying, the man hit the cold hard ground.
"Why you little..." a knife was drawn from the man's coat pocket and he quickly advanced on Bruce, pinning him to the ground. Bruce struggled, limbs flailing under the sheer weight of his former classmate.
"Get the hell off me!"
"Not until you have learnt your lesson, Wayne. Didn't your pa ever teach you manners?" The man chuckled, the girls squeaked with delight and the knife descended down to Bruce's face.
"This is what happens when you don't do as you are told..." the knife slowly sliced down Bruce's cheek, leaving a trail of oozing blood behind it. Bruce yelled and pushed at the man with all his strength, sending him backwards far enough for Bruce to escape. He took off running down an alleyway.
"You can't hide forever Bruce!" He heard behind him.
Panting behind a dumpster and applying pressure to his cheek, he whispered to himself, " I won't hide forever. I'll just make my move when I'm ready."
He stood and brushed himself off when he saw sure he was no longer being followed. When he patted his pockets he realised that thug had taken his wallet. It didn't matter, there was only a hundred dollars in that tatty old thing.
Finally at Wayne Manor, Bruce buzzed the doorbell and was welcomed by a familiar voice over the intercom.
"Wayne Manor, to whom am I speaking?"
"Its me Alfred" Bruce said with a small smile.
The gates opened immediately, revealing his old home. As he climbed the steps to the front door Alfred opened them dramatically, light beaming out into the night.
"Master Bruce!" Alfred spoke warmly. "It seems that you are bleeding...some things never change."
"Its good to see you too Alfred." Bruce smiled.
In the kitchen, Alfred treated the wound on Bruce's cheek carefully.
"Why are you back so soon, Master Bruce? If I recall, you were meant to be in France for at least another four months."
"Change of plan Alfred. The training went well but Ducard killed a suspect."
"Well, that certainly does test your principles. Will you be staying in Gothem long, sir?"
"A couple weeks. I need to train more thoroughly if I want to join the FBI. That thug I met on the streets proves that." Bruce winced when Alfred applied a band aid to his wound.
"I'm thinking Japan to hone my stealth."
"Master Bruce, May I enquire why exactly at the age of 17 you feel you must train in such... rigorous ways?"
"It's not for me Alfred. It's for them." Bruce looked up at the grand portrait of his parents in the hallway. It felt as if their eyes were boring into him, interrogating him to answer why he had not yet fulfilled his oath of ridding Gothem of the evil that took their lives. Alfred followed his line of sight to the painting and sighed.
"It is the anniversary of their death today, Alfred." Bruce whispered
"I know sir."
"I will avenge them."
Alfred shifted his weight uncomfortably to his other leg. "Master Bruce, I can not pretend I am not worried about you. Their death was 9 years to this day, but you seem every bit as affected by their death now as you did back then."
"The memory haunts me Alfred. I should have done something to stop that thief. With this training, I aim to make sure no kid has to watch their parents die on the streets of Gothem again. Their death won't be in vein."
Alfred laid a hand on Bruce's shoulder, supporting him emotionally and physically.
"I...I'm sorry." Bruce whispered to the portrait.
To Alfred's surprise, Bruce slumped on the kitchen table and broke down into tears, releasing all the bottled emotions held captive within. He sobbed for half an hour with Alfred sat beside him, rubbing his back gently knowing all too well how Bruce was feeling. He realeased a few tears himself.
When Bruce had no more tears to shed, he looked up into Alfred's grey eyes and felt somewhat protected by his faithful Butler.
The reason why that event was so engraved into Bruce's memory...the reason why this age was so significant... was because that night was the first time Bruce Wayne had cried since the death of his parents.