Wake Up Call.

do as i say, jason

If you're familiar with Gotham at all, then you know Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows Bruce Wayne.

Even if you don't, you do. That's how his fame grows. The magazines had already taken the old vacation pictures of Bruce and ran with them.

"Billionaire Bruce Wayne taking a mini vacation! Is he alone? Details inside." One of the more popular ones reported.

But those who really knew Bruce, knew he never took lavishing vacations. They were all fronts for what he was really up too. That being healing from Batman's latest beatings, batman being out of town, or explaining a sudden absence of Bruce Wayne.

It's a hard life being a super hero.

I didn't know what it meant to be a super hero. I see old photos of myself with Bruce flying through the air and doing the good, but I can't remember what that feels like. Was I ever a good guy? Did I ever complete the good deeds that Bruce expected of me? Because I don't know, not anymore.

As the days go on, I feel that the past is fuzzy. Like a dream that feels familiar, but yet disconnected at the same time. It's like seeing something from your childhood and you get small flashes of memory, but not enough to actually remember.

No one is meant to come back from the dead, no one.

I moved into the Manor the day that Bruce came back. I haven't left this room in two days. Alfred brings me my tray and he comes to get it. Bruce hasn't been in, not that I would want to see him.

Alfred told me we're suppose to tell Dick tonight about why I moved back in. As far as Dick knows, I'm there for Alfred's protection.

Which is going to be quite embarrassing when he finds out the truth that I'm actually here for Alfred to protect. Sometimes, it doesn't pay to be a ward of Bruce Wayne.

There's a soft knock on my door. I contemplate for a moment whether or not I'm going to ignore the visitor, but because it's probably Bruce and this is his house after all, I hesitantly walk and open the door.

Just as expected, Bruce is standing in front of the door. He's got his trademark smirk on his face and his hands stuffed into his pants pockets.

He's in a suit and tie and his hair is tossed about, but done so in a manner that looks deliberate. I envy him for a brief moment.

Bruce holds out a suit for me. I look it over. There's no way I'm wearing that. Bruce is snickering as he nods his head.

Apparently, now, Bruce is a mind reader. Not only is he the most feared super hero in Gotham, but he's a mind reader too!

"I'm not wearing that, Bruce." I go to close the door, but he gets a foot in and pushes his way inside.

"Yes, you are. I have a position inside my company open and you got the job. So, get dressed. You're riding with me." Bruce gently lays the suit down on the bed and shuts the door as he walks out. If he seriously thinks that I'm going to work at his company, he's sadly mistaken.

So, I put on the suit. It's fits perfect. I don't know how Bruce knows my measurements, but he got it perfect. I must say, I look good.

I know, I shouldn't go work for this company. After all, wasn't I just telling myself no? Well.. I mean, what else am I going to do? Wait for Bruce to get back? I've always loved the adventure. Always.