I knew Batman

Chapter 10 -- The Batcave

In the next few days, my thoughts were chasing each other. Was I right about Bruce Wayne being Batman? Or did my intuition trick me? In the meantime, I moved back to my own apartment. My brother fully recovered and didn't need my help anymore. The Charity Ball was a huge success - at least in financial terms - the Wayne Foundation collected more than enough money to rebuild the hospital not just the way it was but with brand new state-of-the-art medical technology.

I couldn't put together the picture. I looked through some articles about Bruce Wayne, driving sports cars, dating famous ballerinas, sailing at exotic locations... a philanthropist and a playboy. This was hard to put together with the cold and reserved man who spends his nights on the streets of Gotham fighting crime and violence.

However, I didn't have many days to ponder this question.

It was quite late in the night, and I was at home and struggled to fall asleep. Partly because of the recent events and partly because my sleep cycle is disturbed anyway due to the night shifts at the hospital. I tried to occupy my mind with medical journals when I heard the loud knocking - more like impatient banging - on my door.

My apartment is not exactly in the safest part of Gotham but this is the neighborhood that I could afford from my paycheck after paying my student loan. People around here knew that I am a doctor and they sometimes knocked on my door for help. Sometimes dangerous people did that too. That is why I keep a gun. It is a licensed Glock. I had some basic military training when I started my work at the Doctors Without Borders Team. Actually, I was quite a good shooter. I took the gun out of its safety box and I looked out through the peephole on my door. I saw a grey-haired, elderly man in an elegant suit. It was suspicious. He was definitely not from this neighbourhood.

He banged on my door again. "Dr Newman, please open up!" So, he knew my name as well.

I opened the door slightly and pointed the gun at him.

"What do you want?"

"Whoa.." The elderly man took a step back and raised his arms. "I am no threat." He continued in a hurry. "I am Alfred Pennyworth and we have a common friend who is in need of your help. Please, Dr Newman, you have to come with me right now."

Then suddenly I realized that he was the butler of Bruce Wayne. I saw him at the Charity Ball and his face was familiar from the newspapers as well. I lowered my gun. The picture immediately came together. Batman was injured. It must be serious if his butler must come for help. I usually don't swear but now I just had to. "F*ck."

I got genuinely scared for him. But I suppressed the feeling and let my doctoral instincts kick in. I put down the gun, quickly grabbed my medical bag and closed the door behind me.

I followed the butler to one of the nearest dark alleys. A fancy sports car was parked there. He opened the rear door and I saw Batman - or should I say, Bruce Wayne? - lying across the rear seats and groaning. Blood was leaking from the side of his chest armour to the car's floor. I got into the car beside him, while the butler sat in the driver's seat.

Batman raised his head a bit when I joined him in the car. He was conscious.

"What happened?" I asked but it was quite obvious. He was shot. The bullet hit him on the left lower side of his chest. "Shouldn't this armour be bullet-proof?" But nobody answered my question.

"How can I open this damn armour?" I asked while I was looking for a buckle, I needed to examine the wound. Batman pointed at a hidden clip and tried to unlock it but didn't have the strength so I had to do it for him. Meanwhile, the butler started to drive.

When I opened the chest armour, a large amount of blood spilt on the seats and the floor all at once. "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck." I tried to put pressure on the wound to reduce the bleeding and checked for the exit wound. There wasn't any. It meant that the bullet was still inside him. And with all the blood loss, the situation didn't look good.