Disclaimer: I don't own Justice League or any of its characters. Really, I don't.
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Chapter 3.
Bruce stormed toward the zeta tubes localized in the main room with a dramatic swirl of his cape, hands balled into fists at his sides and jaw clenched shut as he ignored Lantern's idiotic complains about ungrateful jerks.
He didn't miss the few eyes that turned his way as he walked, though no one spoke or tried to stop him as he moved stealthily through the corridor. He wasn't sure what made some of those who usually bother him refrain from doing so now, but he was relieved. He needed to get out of here now.
The teleportation system did not transport him directly to the cave, but rather one of the many secure locations he had scattered around the city. Each location had been carefully selected and set up. Socked-among other things-with emergency rations, disposable cell phones and two laptops modified to support access to the main system in the cave, non distinctive clothes, and battery-powered communication equipment. All of which was well hidden in each location.
The place he had selected to be used to transport him back to Gotham from the League's headquarter-whose existence and location could be exposed to the rest of the League-was an old and abandoned storage room near the docks.
Once there, he walked toward a hidden sliding panel in the back of the dark place, closing the distance in a few long strides, and pulled it open. He slipped inside, taking and switching on the battery lamp that had been on the floor to his right without even looking at it, and sliding the panel shut. He started to take out the suit as soon as he fetched a bundle of clothes to wear from a worn out cabinet.
Dressed in a battered dark gray hoodie, loose jeans and sneakers, Bruce shoved the discarded Batman armor into a dark bag, pulling it shut before hiding it in a hole in the wall behind the cabinet. He would be coming back for it after patrol tonight, but you could never be too cautious. From a drawer to his right, he took a handful of keys and some bills which he shoved into his pockets.
His critical gaze sweep the small hidden room to ensure nothing was out place before turning the battery lamp off and placing it by the door again. Once the sliding panel was back in place Bruce slipped out, walking out of the storage room unnoticed. He made his way through the narrow alley behind the building, turning down a slightly more populated street.
Bruce walked twelve blocks, bumping against a couple of people walking in the opposite direction. He kept his head down as he walked; hood pulled up to hide his face partially, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans as he headed to the nearest bus stop.
A motorcycle was stored in a small shipping yard by the docks, property of a shell company Alfred had helped him create and maintain a few years ago. He couldn't take the risk of being seen around the yard too often, though, so the motorcycle was there just as a precaution; in case he ever needed it.
He didn't have to travel to Happy Harbor every time a meeting was held. He was only a part-time member after all. So when he had to assist-which was still more often than he would like-he normally used Gotham's public transport system to get to the storage room where he would be transported to the mountain, as well as to get back to the Manor. Or at least as far as the transport system went, considering not a lot of people living in The Palisades had use for it.
Bruce changed buses once, heading then toward a storage facility that had been rented under an assumed alias and pre-paid. He used the keys he had taken from the storage room and took out an old but well maintained motorcycle kept there. Putting on the helmet that rested on the seat, Bruce climbed onto the motorcycle and finally made his way to Wayne Manor.
A special chip that would allow him access into the Manor's grounds had been installed under the fuel tank of the motorcycle. It had to be activated manually, and one of the sensors installed on the perimeter would alert Alfred of his presence as soon as he trespassed the Manor's grounds. The camera system also installed around the propriety would verify his identity well before he reached the cave's entrance.
He arrived to the cave only fourteen minutes later, coming to a stop on the platform where the Batmovil and other vehicles were parked and turned off the engine. He took off the dark helmet and held it in one hand, reaching with his free hand to brush sweat matted hair off of his forehead.
It wasn't surprising to find Alfred standing besides the small bank of monitors as he turned his head. With a wry twitch of his lips he placed the helmet on the seat of the motorcycle, before making his way to the main area of the cave.
Bruce tensed under the familiar weight of Alfred's gaze, relaxing only a moment later as the butler examined him from head to toe; searching for injuries. It was a look he had gotten used to a while ago. Long before he put on the cowl and cape for the first time. Even so, he kept his gaze carefully away from the older man's face as he finished his examination.
"Alfred."
"It is a pleasure to see you return in one piece, Master Bruce."
"It's good to be back." The corner of Bruce's lips twitched slightly. "Anything of note happened while I was away?"
"Certainly, sir. Just this morning I read in the newspaper about the merger between the Bingham Corporation and Triplett Chemicals."
"What?"
"Neither company has represented a major competition for Wayne Enterprises in the past, of course, but a merger could help both enterprises to grow rapidly. The alliance will be consolidated with the marriage between the daughter of the CEO of Triplett Industries and Bingham Corporation's own CEO. It is quite a success in the media, sir."
That was not what he was asking about, but nevertheless, Bruce filled the information away. "You know what I meant, Alfred."
"Of course, sir. Nothing of notice happened with Gotham's underworld. The fine men of the Gotham Police Department seemed to handle things just fine in your absence."
"Good."
Alfred gave him yet another appraising look. "Would you require anything, sir? Supper is not yet ready, I'm afraid, but I could prepare a light lunch if you wish."
"That's fine, Alfred."
"Would you like me to draw a bath too, sir?"
Bruce considered the offer for a long moment. After spending over 42 hours straight under an unbearable heat in the suit, unable to wash anything but his face and the uncomfortable brief sleep in the hard floor, he would love nothing more that to take a long, warm bath and relax for a moment.
"No, it's fine. I will take a quick shower down here and get to work."
"Very well, sir. I shall be back immediately."
Bruce was walking back to the bank of monitors, drying his hair with a towel and wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants by the time Alfred returned to the cave holding a silver tray and setting it down in the desk.
A tall glass filled with the frankly disgusting protein shake he took every morning, another one with orange juice, and a plate with sandwiches cut into diagonal halves and the crust trimmed were in it.
"Thanks, Alfred," Bruce muttered, sitting down in the swivel chair with a sigh.
Alfred stood politely to the side as Bruce downed the wheatgrass shake in a single gulp, barely holding back a grimace at the taste. He didn't drink it because it tasted good, after all.
"Well, sir. Would you care to share what happened."
Bruce furrowed his brow. "Didn't you access to the headquarters' surveillance system?"
"I did, sir."
"Then I think you know more than I do at this point." Bruce said dryly before reaching for one of the sandwiches in the plate and taking a bite.
Alfred merely lifted an eyebrow, clearly unsatisfied with that answer.
"You may as well sit down then," Bruce said after a moment, nodding to the empty chair to the side. He finished the sandwich and took a sip of the juice while Alfred reluctantly did as he was told.
"We were sent to a seemingly inhabited unknown location, as far as I can tell." Bruce admitted grudgingly, annoyed at his lack of knowledge. "I don't even know if it was a planet or some kind of illusion. There was purple vegetation of some sort, and even sources of potable water, but we found no apparent signs of life."
"It was a planet, sir. And an inhabited one, you're correct."
It was Bruce's turn to lift an eyebrow in inquiry.
"That is at least what your colleagues concluded. The man who shot you and Superman was not the creator of the weapon, nor does he know who created it, but the information they obtained from him was sufficient seeing you're here, sir. According to that man it was not meant to kill, but disappear permanently."
"It makes sense. I counted over forty hours, and yet the sun never went down. It just reduced its brightness somehow for a few hours. It was a red sun." Bruce paused to eat another bite. "Without Superman's powers we had no other option but to wait. At least initially."
Alfred remained in polite silence, clearly sensing there was more. Bruce turned his chair to face him, leaning back in his seat. His elbows were resting on the arms of the chair and his fingers laced together.
"Kent knows who I am." He stated plainly. He didn't have to explain further. Alfred knew as much as he did about the Justice League, otherwise he wouldn't have been quite so encouraging about him joining. Even if he was sure the older man was starting to regret his easy agreement after this.
He was perfectly aware of the reason that had prompted Alfred to support the idea of him forming part of the League, and it wasn't just the prospect of fast and powerful backup available if he ever needed it, (not that Bruce was very happy about that) but the impact that could generate in Gotham's underworld by associating Batman's name with the most powerful beings in the world.
It may not stop most criminals from keeping up their illegal activities, but it could make them hesitate before attacking point black if they thought he was "friends" with the Justice League. Especially small-time criminals. Did they really want to get on the bad side of almighty Demigods by hurting "one of their own"?
"Sir?"
"I took off my cowl." Bruce said in answer to the carefully restrained touch of apprehension in Alfred's voice.
A flicker of surprised crossed the older man's eyes briefly, but to Bruce's relief he made no inquiries about that statement. But then again, Alfred knew him better than anyone else. He needed no explanation regarding at least ninety percent of the things he did.
"Did Mr. Kent recognize you, Master Bruce?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know, sir?"
"He was clearly surprised, but I can't be sure if his reaction was due to recognition of who I am or to learn how old Batman is. He was quite fixated on that."
"Well, sir. I believe one can hardly fault Mr. Kent for such reaction. After all, no young man in his right mind would carouse around the city in the middle of the night dressed up as a bat and beating criminals with his bare hands."
Bruce lifted a dark eyebrow at the older man, lips curling up into a small, wry smile. "What did I tell you about calling your employer crazy, Alfred?"
"I believe you threatened to fire me, Master Bruce. However, given the secrecy of your activities, you desisted from such notion when I pointed out you would have to clean this place by yourself if you chose to reside from my services."
"I did, didn't I." Bruce muttered without any real heat. He swallowed down the rest of his sandwich before speaking again. "Kent is supposed to be an investigative reporter. Even if he didn't know who I was then he should by now. It's not that hard to figure out, really."
"Of course." Alfred said. "Did Mr. Kent share this with the rest of the League?"
"I'm not sure. I didn't exactly stick around to find out." Bruce paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "But even if he does, I don't believe they would be a problem. It was implied that I know the identities of the others, so I think they wouldn't go farther than kick me out of the League."
They fell into an easy silence then, drawing comfort from each other's company.
Alfred wouldn't say it-because that was the way things had always worked between them-but he didn't need to heard the words to know how worried the older man had been after losing signal of the tracker installed on the suit, and even more so after he learned what had happened. The relief had shined in the butler's eyes as soon as he had seen him.
Though to be perfectly honest, Alfred wasn't the only one drawing comfort from this quiet moment. He would never admit it, but he had been scared. Scared of being in a situation he had no control over. A situation that had brought back to light every one of his qualms about joining the a group of all powerful beings.
"Would you like more, sir?" Alfred finally asked with a nod to the now empty plate.
"No. it's okay. Thank you Alfred."
"Very well, sir. If you don't need anything else I shall return upstairs to finish preparing supper, then."
"That's fine, Alfred."
With a small bow the butler walked silently away, taking the tray with him and leaving him to his own devices.
Bruce's fingers hovered over the keyboard before he started typing, as he considered the idea of accessing the surveillance in the League's headquarters to see what had happened there after his departure.
He brushed the idea aside almost as fast as it had crossed his mind, focusing instead on looking up what had happened in Gotham during his absence.
That was the only important thing.
...
a/n: So what do you think? Was it good? Bad? Let me know! We will be going back to Clark's POV next chapter, which hopefully will be up sooner.
I'm really sorry about the super late update. Life kept me away and busy for awhile and then there was another plot bunny nibbling at my head.I'm really sorry about the super late update. Life kept me away and busy for awhile and then there was another plot bunny nibbing at my head.