I do not own Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dr. Leslie Thompkins, or John Jones/Martian Manhunter. DC does.
Wayne Manor Kitchen Eleven Years After the Waynes' Deaths
As silence dragged on between him and John after his question, Bruce bowed his head, folded his hands on the table and went on. "I thought I might have 'caused' your death John."
John looked up at him with a furrowed brow. "Why?"
"Because of the 'cause' of the fire ..."
Gotham Central Hospital Two Years After the Waynes' Deaths
Soon after he woke up for a second time in his hospital bed, Alfred came in to visit him with news. First, the ex-MI6 Agent questioned his Master Bruce on how he was feeling. Then he reassured him the one who'd done this to him would face justice.
The first arsonist's apartment had been searched the night Bruce found him. Police had then discovered, their suspect shared that apartment with another man. In the shared living space, authorities had found the makings of detonator activated explosives far more sophisticated and time-consuming a fire-starting technique than what their suspect had been in the midst of using. However, the suspect's roommate hadn't been home or come home since. They found him, instead, by sweeping the area surrounding the Soup Kitchen during the fire Bruce and John had been caught in. He'd been discovered watching the blaze.
The police arrested him and believed they had a pretty solid case. He'd been a roommate with the unresponsive arsonist. His prints had been on materials discovered in their apartment like those used in the last blaze and earlier ones. Bruce was glad he was caught, but not as glad as if "anyone" could tell him John had been seen alive. Also, if the Soup Kitchen had been burned down and John died because he found the arsonist passed out and his roommate and fellow arsonist had wanted to punish him for that ...
Wayne Manor Kitchen Eleven Years After the Waynes' Deaths
John sat back down and stared at Bruce, when he finished explaining his long-held guilt. John's eyes were filling with tears. "Bruce, that fire was not your fault. It was the second arsonist's fault. If any blame is to be shared with him ... it would be mine."
Bruce's head snapped up and he blinked. "How?"
John sighed. His whole body slumped as he seemed to surrender a weight he'd been holding. "I did 'not' simply go out for a walk that night and circle back to the car ... I went on a walk, noticed the arsonist, went back to the kitchen and made the call to the tip-line. Then I went back to watch him. He seemed ready to start the blaze before authorities had arrived to stop him. So, I attacked him from behind. I choked him out. That is why you found him unconscious while searching for me."
Bruce stared and blinked again. "John ... he was out a 'long' time! And the bruising was light!"
Tension seemed to return to John's body as he met Bruce's stare. Bruce's eyes narrowed. "How did 'I' pass out in the freezer? No one said I had bruising either on my head or my throat later. People said I likely fainted ..."
"Perhaps, you did ..."
Bruce's eyes narrowed further. "No ... I don't think I did ..." John's body tightened further as the two kept staring at each other for several more seconds. "How did we survive in there John?"
"Can we not simply call it a miracle?"
"Some said that. Some said you were an angel."
Gotham Central Hospital Two Years After the Waynes' Deaths
His capture along with Bruce's survival seemed quite the newsworthy story. That was why Bruce wasn't very suspicious when a man in a nice suit with a pad and pen came into his hospital room asking to interview him.
Bruce was a little surprised Leslie, Alfred, or Lucius weren't with him. The man identified himself as a reporter interested in the man who was supposed to be in the building, fire, and freezer with Bruce, but who hadn't been found. What did Bruce think of the rumor the man had actually been an angel? Had he noticed any angelic-like behavior?
Bruce hoped if John had gotten out alive a news story about him might help them find him again. If he was dead, at least the story might spread far enough to help anyone who knew and cared about him in the past to learn his fate and come to a funeral they might hold in his memory. Maybe an old friend or family member could also answer some of the questions about John. Bruce tried to give the reporter as thorough responses as he had the police for these purposes.
He thought he saw mostly disappointment on the man's face as they talked, except for when he mentioned John's catatonic state in front of the fire before he dragged him into the freezer. The reporter also sat up a little straighter, when he mentioned blacking out inside the freezer. Since that was the last thing he had to say, Bruce hadn't learned from someone else, the man got up from his seat saying, "Well, that was a heavenly mercy bestowed on you."
"I told you already … I don't think John was an angel. He told me he had a wife and two daughters who burned to death. He also had a bad habit of freezing in front of or running away from dangers particularly those associated with fires ..."
"Well, you don't have another explanation for why you passed out, do you?"
Bruce paused, pressed his lips together, and thought … "No. The staff say I didn't have any injuries except what I probably got throwing myself to the floor during the explosions and breathing in smoke while dragging John away."
"Well then, an angelic visitor and divine mercy seems as good a possibility as any. Thanks for answering my questions. Take care son!" The man gave him a few strong pats on his shoulder and then left … Bruce watched him leave wondering again why Leslie, Alfred, and Lucius let him see the man alone.
The next week, Bruce perused the papers looking for the article the reporter interviewed him for. He didn't find it. Finally, he brought up the lack of an article quoting him from his private interview with his Aunt Leslie. Leslie froze and stared at him. "What are you talking about Bruce?"
Bruce squinted his eyes at her while pushing his head back farther into his pillow. "The … reporter who asked me if John was an angel and wanted to know all about him."
"Bruce … no one talked to me about that. I didn't give permission for you to be interviewed."
Bruce blinked back up at her. "Did Alfred, or Lucius?"
His godmother glared darkly as she answered. "They better 'not' have."
As it turned out, both men denied it and looked angry at not only the accusation, but the occurrence itself like his godmother was. Bruce learned though 'many' reporters had indeed wanted to interview him. All had been carefully kept at bay to let him rest and not be overwhelmed. However, a few of the hospital staff assigned to Bruce's care admitted a man with a badge came in and said something about being a special investigator into arson that required a talk to Bruce and having the authority to arrest them for interfering in said investigation if they didn't let him talk to Bruce.
The description of this man matched what Bruce recalled about the reporter, but Bruce knew the man had shown no badge to him. The name the man had given him and the hospital staff, though, was the same. That name matched no one at any of the Gotham papers or law enforcement agencies. During his last few days in the hospital, Bruce pondered this mystery.
Wayne Manor Kitchen Eleven Years After the Waynes' Deaths
John stared at Bruce across the table. His form even tighter and face hard. Yet, his voice was soft and polite. "Thank you for telling me about this."
Bruce stared back. "Who was that man John? What are you running from? What can you do?"
John shut his eyes and sighed before speaking, "I think I should leave."
Bruce tried to relax his face and body and soften his own voice as he asked. "John ... are you a telepath?"
John's head jerked up. His eyes snapped open. For a moment their gazes were locked again. Then, Bruce frowned as he felt a somewhat familiar sensation in his mind. Memories seemed pulled at and into his stream of consciousness. A teenage girl with long blonde hair, a large head, and pink irises around the pupils of her eyes. Her soft voice tried to convince him to trust her and let her help him train to protect himself from her talents if he was so worried. He put those lessons into practice now.
"John stop!" Bruce shoved the the foreign influence out of his mind. Shutting his eyes, he shoved back his chair to stand up and put distance between them. As the invader yanked back pain flashed through Bruce's brain. He winced. Then he forced his eyes open to face the one who entered his mind uninvited and explain he couldn't explain whatever information John had gleaned from his memories to see ... no one.
Bruce swept his gaze around the kitchen. He stood still and quieted his breathing. His eyes and eared told him he was alone.
Whumptober prompt for October 11th 2024 "leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist" (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)
What do you think?
God bless
ScribeofHeroes