Dangers in the Dark

Showing a Pigeon Who's Boss 15.3

Third Person POV

The lengthy minutes started to turn into longer hours as the weather began to shift around Bruce. While it had been cool yet sunny only a little while ago, now the wind had picked up and the air around him had grown cold, making Bruce regret not packing a warmer jacket. Yet he continued on. Instead of turning back and heading home to the warm fire of Wayne Manor, Bruce wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and ignored the wind as it attempted to rip the jacket right off of him.

Climbing up the leafy hill, he stepped over fallen trees and ducked under swinging branches that were clinging on for dear life. As he wandered further into the woods, Bruce couldn't help but wonder if this is what it had all really looked like when he had walked it with his dad a little over a year ago. His surroundings hadn't changed in that time yet Bruce couldn't have felt more different even if he tried. Everything had changed. He was no longer the innocent boy who had little to care about in the world; now his life was constantly in danger and Bruce couldn't see how he was ever going to be free from this all again like he had been before.

Panting for breath, Bruce's eyes widened when he saw the two piles of rocks stacked up at the top of the hill. He'd made it! He'd actually made it! He could hardly believe that he had remembered the whole way without his dad there guiding the way, holding his hand to stop him from falling down the hillside.

Exhausted from the hike, Bruce placed his bag on the ground and slowly approached the pile of rocks in front of him. The afternoon sun was casting a warm shadow on the dirt ground by his feet as he stopped by the rocks and crouched down to his knees. He took the two rocks from his pockets and placed his rock on his pile but he stopped, froze right in his tracks as he looked down at the larger pile and then back to the rock in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Bruce placed his father's rock onto his pile and backed away.

It almost felt like a relief placing the rock down but the pressure that had left his body was then replaced with something worse, something that he had little control over ... anger.

His blood boiled as he picked up the top few rocks from his dad's pile and threw them as far as he could off of the ledge. Caught up in the moment, every shred of anger and betrayal that he had felt since his parents prematurely left his life, Bruce kicked and threw the rocks until only a few remained. Sobs racked up in his body as he tried to not let the tears escape his eyes. He refused to let this affect him but just the fact that he was here alone and not standing here with his dad beaming down proudly at him was enough to make him want to scream.

But he wouldn't.

Turning back to his bag, he picked it up and threw it onto the back of his shoulders before beginning to walk away from the damn rocks. But with so much anger still clouding his mind and controlling what he was doing, Bruce didn't notice the wet puddle that he was about to step in, nor did he notice the small branch that was sticking out by his ankle.

As his ankle collided with the branch and then landed in the puddle, Bruce slipped and went tumbling down the hill, the force of rocks digging into his back and leaves getting caught up in his hair, mud smearing across his face the whole way down. Right till he landed in a crumpled mess at the bottom of the hill, gasping for breath.

The shock of the fall lingered for a few more moments before the young Wayne boy felt the stabbing pain shoot up from his right calf. Pulling his trouser leg up, he winced as the rough fabric connected with the bloody cut that had appeared on his leg.

And as he looked around him at the empty hill Bruce had never wished so much that Alfred was here.

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Holly POV

Jonathon wasn't at the library. He wasn't at the café across the street either. Tanya and I even spoke with the librarian to see if she had seen Jonathon recently but nothing. She hadn't seen Jonathon since we had.