I do not own Batman/Bruce Wayne or Dr. Leslie Thomkins or Gotham City. Please enjoy for free!

Warning: Reconsider reading the last section of this chapter if you are triggered by mentions of illegal drug-use and the tragic consequences of it.

Gotham City South Side: 13 years after the Waynes died.

Batman pulled the Batmobile into an abandoned building owned by his family's company and drove it to the basement. A wall moved aside allowing him access to the grid of abandoned tunnels beneath the city. Finally, he parked in a large empty room with cement walls and floor. He sighed and flipped the light on inside the vehicle. He turned his head and studied the dead body in the passenger seat.

Gotham South Side Free Clinic: 2 Years After the Waynes died

Bruce could see the front of the clinic as he and the man with heatstroke turned a corner. The children and nephew of his aunt's nurse came pouring out the clinic door across the street. "He's coming!"

The nurse came out right after them. He ran his gaze up and down Bruce and the patient before shaking his head. As he came alongside them, he took the arm of the patient Bruce wasn't underneath and laid it over his own broad shoulders taking the man's weight off Bruce. The ten-year-old jogged a little ahead and turned back to look up into the nurse's face. "There may be some broken glass on the bottom of our shoes and clothes. Are their still toddlers in the waiting room?"

The nurse nodded. "A few."

Bruce ran up and then to the side of the ramp leading up to the clinic door and started removing his shoes. As the nurse tried to take their patient over the curb onto the sidewalk, the man rubbed the bottom of his own shoes against it. "May I keep mine on?"

The nurse nodded. "Sure sir."

"You don't have to sir me, or see me. If there is a water fountain … the girl already sprayed me with water. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Uh-huh, I've seen a lot of heatstroke victims the past few months and you have it. So, I think we'll go ahead and see you inside. Bruce!"

The ten-year-old's head spun to look up at his aunt's colleague. The big man raised an eyebrow at him. "You know your aunt's gonna have words with you for leaving the clinic without telling me or Gladys?"

Bruce sighed. "Yes, I know."

"Just checking.

Gotham South Side Mercy Hospital: 13 years after the Waynes died.

As Dr. Leslie Thomkins strode down the hospital hallway, her pager buzzed. She paused, pulled it out of the pocket of her white coat, and looked at it. Then she gave a deep sigh.

Leslie headed for a stairwell, and walked down to the hospital's basement. There, she opened the door to the morgue. A man pulling organs from a body looked at her eyes wider at the sight of her than the insides of his patient. "Dr. Thomkins?"

"Hank, you look dehydrated. Scrub up, drink some water rather than coffee, and come back."

"But …"

"It's fine."

He shrugged and did as she said. "You're the boss … or at least, one of them."

Leslie flinched. She paid a "lot" of the bills the hospital incurred from her inheritance and dividends from her stock portfolio. So she was on the board, along with Lucius Fox. But there were a few other donors and board members, who pulled a lot of weight around here and in this part of the city in general … too much.

After the examiner left the room, Leslie's gaze followed him until he disappeared into a lounge area near "records." Then she strode to a closet of cleaning supplies. Once inside, she pressed down hard on a shelf that held the lightest load. The back wall slid aside. Beyond it was the Batmobile. The light from the bulb in the closet hit the Batman standing beside his open passenger door. Leslie's eyes widened as they took in the sight of the car. "What caused those cracks?"

"Large ammunition fire."

Her face fell into a scowl. "Of course."

Gotham South Side Free Clinic: 2 Years After the Waynes died

"Alright, from now on, be more careful about eating lunch meat one of your younger siblings "might" have left out for hours especially in this heat." Her green-faced, teenage patient nodded on the examination table. Then, the room's door flew open.

Leslie turned, raised an eyebrow at her receptionist, and paled as she saw the only slightly older woman's drawn face. "Dr. Thomkins, I'm so sorry, somehow Bruce left the waiting room without me noticing …"

"What?!"

"But he's coming back. Nurse Briant's kids came in to tell us he's coming back with a big, tall man he's half carrying and says has heatstroke."

A little color came back into the doctor's face even as her mouth dropped open. Then she nodded. "Have Joseph bring him and Bruce back here, immediately, and get this young man some water with electrolytes while calling his mother to come get him and his brothers."

Her receptionist nodded and went out. Leslie stripped a plastic glove off her hand before raising its fingers to her forehead to give it a light massage. Her patient's weak voice spoke a little below her. "Wow, I thought I had it bad watching my bros while ma's at work. Your nephew just … walked out of here … In this part of town?"

Gotham South Side Mercy Hospital: 13 years after the Waynes died.

Leslie raised her gaze from the Batmobile to the Batman. "I'm not sure how long we have."

He nodded, reached into the vehicle, and came out holding a dead woman in his arms. Leslie turned and strode to the door of the closet holding it open for him. After he'd carefully maneuvered himself and the remains through the tight space and by her, Leslie strode to the door of the morgue and opened it. Once its door shut behind them, she asked "What killed her?"

Batman murmured as he set the body down on an empty metal table, "I suspect overdose. But it could have been a customer or Samson Robertson. He was trying to bury her in the landfill."

"It's one of the 'legitimate businesses' of one of this hospital's board members. So we have to be careful about doing things like this."

Batman looked up and stared at the body mid-examination. Leslie sighed. "Multiple stabbings, in his own apartment." She looked to the body of the young woman and then back at Bruce. "You said you wouldn't enter people's homes without hearing a call for help, and you'd be careful interfering in the drug trade. We still haven't gotten the 'Hold after Stable and Sober' Bill passed."

"You'll never get a bill passed that allows their customers to receive treatment for overdose on their product, and once stable, leave without any measures taken to stop them buying what hospitalized them besides handing them a pamphlet. Only breaking the Cartels' hold on the City Council can get that law passed."

"If you try to interrupt their cash flow by interfering in their drug trade, there will be many, many more Joe Chills on the streets looking for ways to pay for their even more expensive drugs."

"I know." He looked down at the body on the table. "Her name was Deidre. One night, I noticed her meeting her dealer in the alley behind the club she worked at. After the buy, and before she went back inside, I got her attention and told her I could take her to a place to get clean Samson and those he answers to wouldn't find her."

"She said 'No'?"

He nodded.

Leslie gave a deep sigh. "I've learned this from long experience in my lines of work, Bruce. You can't 'make' people take your help."

"Don't call me that in mask." He turned his gaze on his godmother and scanned her starting from her well-worn loafers up her lax frame, and slightly dipping head with bags under its eyes. "Get some rest tomorrow."

"I'll try. Now, get going. Hank must be thinking of coming back. And get that car checked over by Lucius before driving it above ground again."

He nodded and began walking back toward the door. "Yes Ma'am."

A twofer in honor of Whumptober and the prompt for the 5th "Heatstroke."

What do you think?

God bless

ScribeofHeroes