MELLIFLUOUS ➪ Bruce Wayne {Gotham}

III

Leaving the city was different than coming in.

The feeling of entering a city such as Gotham- a city filled with crime, poverty, and corruption- is not an immediate sentiment of fear, but the feeling of redemption. A big city full of big opportunities.

Upon exiting the same city, it's as if a huge weight that one has never even felt been put on has been miraculously lifted off their shoulders; An unimaginable ton of pressure is pulled off their backs, yet they don't remember the feeling well enough to discontinue entering the area.

Every time Gordon and Bullock had to travel out of city, they experienced the weight, yet coming back in, they never feel it pressure down onto them again.

Faye experiences it for the first time. In her childhood, she didn't even live close to this city. She ended up there at the moment due to her circumstances, but overall she's never even been to a big city. A new weight has yet to truly effect who she is, as it does to everyone who enters Gotham.

Gordon, Bullock, and of course Faye drive out of Gotham to a place where he detectives believe they have found their man. After 20 minutes, they drive over a bridge to finally reach their destination.

"Where are we? What are we doing here?" Faye asks, lifting her head up from against the window to see a large house...larger than life. Considerably a big mansion.

"We're visiting a friend of mine who might be able to offer a good amount of help," Gordon responds as Bullock pulls into the long driveway. Once fully in front of the mansion, he sets the car into park and pulls the keys out of the ignition. Faye is too mesmerized by the house to even notice Gordon holding the door open for her. She unbuckles and steps out into the cold, foggy air.

"Is this Wayne Manor?" Faye asks, turning to the gates behind her, able to make out the backwards letters. "I've heard about this place." Jim and Harvey turn to one other, their eye contact referring to how they're right about what their doing: They found who they need. Faye turns back around at Detective Gordon's touch, pushing on her shoulder to guide her to the door. Bullock knocks a few times and rings the doorbell. The three listen to the auto-chimes that come from the door of the house. Faye thinks that the house is so big, it might take a few minutes for anyone inside to even get close enough to hear those bells. She flinches as the knob twists and door swings open. The figure who answers composes himself well, putting his hands behind his back and straightening his posture as he greets the three.

"Detectives Gordon and Bullock, I did not expect your arrivals?" The older man says, dusting some things of his apron.

"Hi, Alfred. Bullock and I just want to have a quick chat with you," Gordon replies with a smile. "And we brought our friend, Faye, if that's alright?"

"Of course it is alright. Come in, and I'll make some coffee," Alfred starts walking down the hallway, allowing the three to wipe their shoes and step inside. Gordon leads them down the hallway, having them enter the library.

"I've been here more than a couple times; I know where Alfred's going to want us to meet." Jim says as he seems to answer the nonexistent question. Alfred comes in with a silver platter of coffee and cookies, placing it down onto the table between the two couches. Gordon pushes Faye again, motioning for her to take a seat.

"Here you all go, some coffee, tea, and some cookies if any of you are interested." He, again, wipes some crumbs off his apron before untying it and folding it in his hands. "So how can I assist you, Detectives?" Gordon pulls out some papers from his pocket, unfolding them.

"Do you have any correlation with Richard Addington?" Bullock asks. Alfred's face seemed to freeze as he recalled some past memories.

"I...I haven't heard that name in a very long time," he responds, snapping out of his frozen state.

"How long?" Bullock asks.

"About twelve or thirteen years. That was the last I ever heard from him." He responds. Gordon reluctantly hands him a copy of Richard Addington's death certificate.

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but I'm sorry for the loss," Gordon says, sad and awkwardly. Faye watches their conversation, her heart breaking as she hears her grandfather's name and sees his death certificate again. She notices the broken look on Alfred's face.

"Dick, he" Alfred looks down at the paper, "he was one of my closest friends. I considered him a brother."

"How did you know him?" Gordon asks.

"We served together, way back. Back when we were both in the UK."

"You were in the MI-6, correct?" Bullock adds. Alfred nods.

"Yes. We grew close in their training programs and even when things got more serious than training, we stuck by each other's sides through the insane stuff the government had to offer," Alfred chuckles a bit, holding back tears.

A few moments of silence pass before Gordon speaks up again.

"I'm sorry this news didn't reach you sooner, but we have to ask you another question." Alfred looks up from the paper. "Could you take in Miss Faye here?" Gordon steps aside so he can get a look at her.

"What does she have to do with any of the mess?" Alfred questions.

"This is Faye Addington, Richard's granddaughter." Bullock responds. Alfred raises an eyebrow and then looks back at her, his face softening for a moment before regaining that confused look again.

"You two come all the way out here to tell me my best friend is dead and to dump his granddaughter off to me?" He asks in a sensitive tone, making the detectives feel a sense of remorse. "Besides, I cannot take her in with Master Bruce getting older and getting into more dangerous things. I can barely keep up with one teenager, I can't handle two." Gordon goes through the papers in his hand, looking for the specific one.

"I know how you feel, Alfred, but it's what Dick wanted you to do," he hands Alfred an opened letter that is addressed to him, yet never sent. Richard wrote it for him, speaking about the birth of his granddaughter, Fayette. Alfred skims over it until he reads:

'She is a beautiful young girl, born today at 23:41. I am so proud of my daughter for creating such a precious one. This day would be much happier if I did not have the ability to raise some concerns: My son-in-law did not show up for his daughter's birth. He's been drinking and pursuing drugs since his mother's passing. Although I feel bad about his mother's sudden death, I know he's not going to get any better. My daughter's arms have shown some unexplained bruises that she will not talk to me about. I have a feeling in a few years, she will not be able to care for her new daughter. My girl has not always been weak, but since she met her husband, things have gone downhill. Of course you know first hand that her and her husband have not been the greatest couple. I told you their marriage was out of wed-lock, but they still don't know that I know. I am prepared to care for this girl, but I'm growing old. I know I look great for fifty six, but I have to admit that I feel old. Although I'm healthy right now, I do not know when my time will be. You are a strong, young lad, mate. I'm twelve years older than you but our friendship will forever be strong. I want you to know that I love this little girl so much already, and if anything is to happen to me, you are the one I want to take custody of her. I really hope I am not asking for too much, mate. I trust you with so much, including my own granddaughter's life. Let me know how Thomas and Martha are doing with young Bruce when you get the chance...'

"...I don't know what to say. I cannot believe he never sent this. He sent me letters after the date this one was written. Bloody hell, he even came to visit me and the Wanye's multiple times..." Alfred says. The silence rises again. Alfred leans in close to the detectives: "I will watch her, alright? Only until you two find a proper place for her to stay."