《A Well Dressed Wolf》Chapter Fourteen

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Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.

This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire.

Interlude

Five people sat around a dinner table furnished with a feast fit for kings. Only two ate of their food, of the two only one generously devoured all that was offered.

The others chose to stare.

“Your resemblance is uncanny.” Dick Grayson—Batman’s first protégé—said, offering the Bruce look alike his signature disarming smile. The fact that this Bruce was this young and still seemingly skilled enough to be a fully fledged Batman was a feat.

“I look more like father than he does.” Damien Wayne, the biological son, commented. He wondered how to treat the young doppelganger. The young Bruce shared the exact characteristics of his older counterpart the only difference being their age, but he was the one who took after his father the most as he’d been told countless times by his mother.

“Pfft, maybe in the dark squirt.” Jason Todd, the vigilante, added. So, it was a younger Bruce Wayne from an alternate reality or something, neat. Why should anyone get their panties in a bunch? He chuckled to himself. Once upon a time, he died and was resurrected, truly few things baffled him after that experience.

“I will break your spine, Todd.”

“Maybe when your balls drop short stuff.”

“Will you ladies behave?” Kate Kane—the Batwoman, sighed at them. “How you holding up?” She asked him. Apart from the bandages and plasters and few purple patches here and there on his skin indicative of healing bruises, he looked much alive.

“I’m alive.” He smiled at her, pausing to cut another slab of ham which he easily wolfed down. “You saved my life, I am forever grateful for that.”

“It was nothing.” Kate said, it really was nothing, she’d have done the same for anyone else, even if they weren’t a Bruce Wayne.

“No, others would’ve let me bleed out on the sidewalk or just walk over my corpse in that alley. You didn’t, you carried my bleeding and battered body to a hospital, you got me the medical attention I needed and ensured everything I had was kept safe and returned back to me, no questions asked. You do not understand the magnitude of your kindness to me.” The intensity of his gaze made her reach for the glass of water just to avoid his eyes.

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“Look guys, Kate’s blushing.”

“Shut up, Jason.”

“Todd, you idiot.”

“To sum it up, I owe you one, Kate. No matter the place or time or deed, I’ll be there when you call in the favor.” He declared.

“Alright I’ll hold you to it.” Kate acquiesced.

Turning his attention to the sons—adopted and biological—of Bruce Wayne at the table. “Sorry, if it seemed like I ignored you guys. I’m just happy watching you all banter and joke, it feels like a real family. Something I didn’t really have back where I’m from.”

“Do not be concerned, we are understanding.” Said Damien to the lookalike.

“Yeah teen Bruce just loosen up, we don’t bite, only Damien does.” Jason laughed.

“Todd, you son of a--.”

“What these two are trying to say is; is that we know this must be awkward for you too. But you’re one of us, please feel at home.” Grayson interjected, stopping the seeming rivals from starting a fight while the young Bruce tried to open up.

“Fine by me.” He nodded and turned to Damien. “So, you’re my son huh? Neat.”

“Not exactly yours in particular.” Damien frowned.

“I’d be proud to have a son like you, you seem like a really badass kid.”

“Not to be blunt, but I am.” The boy tried and failed to stop the grin from surfacing on his face as he folded his arms.

“Thomas and Martha would’ve liked you.” He chuckled, “I guess you’re the ladies man.” He pointed at the eldest protégé.

“How could you tell?” Grayson grinned.

“It’s written all over you.”

“Right? He’s such a man-whore.” Kate added.

“True.” Todd nodded.

“Accurate.” Damien confirmed.

“You’re all so jealous.” He scoffed. “Bruce, you should join me sometime, I’ll introduce you to the cutest ladies.”

“Father said to not—"

“Gladly.” The young Bruce interrupted. “Todd, I looked you up.”

“You did huh?” Jason Todd eyed the young Bruce.

“I’m sorry for what the joker did to you. But can you tell me why he’s still alive?”

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“What?” The atmosphere in the room became heavy.

“Why is the joker still alive? Why hasn’t he been executed?”

“We don’t kill.” Said the sixth participant who’d just entered the dining room.

“Hah, no, we do kill. It’s just about knowing when to.” Young Bruce said to his older counterpart.

“That’s a line we cannot cross.” Bruce Wayne stood at the end of the lengthy table, his steely gaze on his younger’s.

“That’s the one line that needs crossing. It's the finish line.” The young doppelganger reciprocated the gaze.

“We become no different from those we seek to stop.”

“Those we created. The monsters we made need to be put down. This whole crime fighting agenda cannot be prolonged. You have more power to do much for Gotham as Bruce Wayne than as Batman, I know because I’ve tried and made it work on my world.”

“You think you know better?”

“I just think doing the same things over and over and over again and expecting different results is insanity.”

“You have no idea of the processes involved.”

“I do.” Said the young Bruce chuckling silently to himself at the lifetime's worth of memories of the multitude of Batmen in his head. “I really do.”

“Who are you to tell me how things should be done?”

“I’m you and I’m sorry for telling you how to do things in your own home when I’ve been here barely a month. I don’t even know if this world is the same as mine—where the joker has murdered more than a quarter of the Gotham population.” He drank his glass of water. “Please disregard all I’ve said so far, I didn't mean to offend any of you or your crusade.” He pushed away from the table “Thank you all for the dinner, it was amazing.” He offered, exiting the dining room.

I barely give two fucks about the people of Gotham. The young Bruce laughed to himself. What did he care if Batman refused to kill? It wasn’t hair off his back, it meant absolutely nothing to him. He just started it as a joke, intending on poking holes through comic book logic but with how it was turning out, it was better to leave it rest.

At least now they hopefully won’t call on me for missions. He rejoiced.

Jason cast a look at the receding Bruce’s back, a spark glinting in his blue eyes.

“We can never cross that line, there’s no going back once we do.” He said to his proteges.

“This is for you.” The young Bruce reentered the dining room, handed his older copy a thin frame with a photo within. “I really am sorry for offending you earlier. I hope we can put it behind us.”

“Excuse me.” The senior Wayne stated, exiting the dining room going down the hall and through the secret entrance that led to the cave. Joy, sadness and a deep sense of longing assaulted the older Bruce as his fingers traced the outline of his parents smiling with him in the middle. His father looked much older and larger, his mother was much more weathered by time and the chemicals smeared on her face, they were both dressed as the batman and joker respectively. Despite that, he still held dearly onto the thin frame.

He missed them more than words could convey. “They love you too.” A small note on the bottom said.

“I know.” A longing smile on his lips as he held it close. “I know.” He repeated.

*.*.*.*.*

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