Unwanted

5

   Bruce Wayne watched as his colleague landed on the grass of his mansion, "Thank you for coming Clark." The dark haired man in spandex only nodded. "I have a need for some sound advice."

   "I'll help if I can," Superman sighed. "Start from the beginning." And Bruce did. He told all he knew, plus what he thought at the time. "I'm going to be frank here. If I was in his position I would have left a long time ago. You made him feel unwanted, unloveable. We are lucky he hasn't told his mother."

   Both shudder at the thought of a pissed off Talia al Ghul. Clark Kent may be unfazed by a lot of things humans have made in earth. It doesn't mean that the League of Assassins haven't figured out a way to kill him. Bruce Wayne knows the damage she could do if she so chose to. And it would be like having three Jokers in one person, hell bent on finding her weapon.

   "Thank you," the billionaire sighed. "I never stopped to truly look at him. All I saw was the beginning, and never got passed it even when I got back. I di-don't want to get past it." The green/grey grass waved in the gentle breeze as the men kept the silence. Neither willing to break it first.

   "Maybe I should tell you then," a soft, accented, voice chimes in after a quiet, motionless, five minutes. "Your child has only ever wanted to be excepted. Like his older brothers were. He knew you would never truly want him," the old butler sighed. "Despite everything I said. He knew he wouldn't be as excepted as the Masters Richard, Jason and Timothy. He looked online for ideas to bond with people. And most of them almost worked. He would start before you or master Timothy would shut him down." The three men stood still. Alfred waited for his master to ask what he needed.

   "What type of things?"

   "He made you dinner," the other British man smiled softly. "It was delicious, but none of you came home like you said you would. He wrote letters that Master Timothy promptly burned and never read. The last attempt was the night I helped him leave." Bruce looked like he was told he could never be Batman again. "He wanted to tell a joke. I had gave a book of them to read, but as he got closer to the door Timothy was already there and occupying your attention."

   "I thought you said he was a spoiled brat Bruce," Clark slowly said. "Every time he was brought up you said he needed more improvement." The protective instinct ingrained from childhood came out. "You didn't abuse him did you?"

   "NO!" The hurt father cried. "I've never touched him. Mentally however was not my intention." The Gothamite looked tired and stressed. "What am I going to do. I lost my son and Dick; again."

   "You have a long road," Clark sighed. "It's going to take work. You need to listen to him when he talks. Not just use it as background noise like you do Green Lantern." The superhero then left to have dinner with his wife and child.