The control room burst with color. He hadn't been expecting that to happen, hadn't been expecting his monochromatic world to suddenly become a riot of colors he couldn't name. He stumbled back slightly, eyes watering. Suddenly overwhelmed with the overload of information as cones that had never been used before switched on and begun working in overtime.
The gasp that left his mouth was followed by a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. He must have looked unsteady if Gordon had paused to help him. He could barely focus on it at the moment. He couldn't even hear his name being called out. He was too busy.
His eyes darted around the room. They landed on different objects wondering what hues they were before finally shifting to the person who caused color in his world less than a moment ago.
He looked so much like his brother.
Too much like his brother.
But his brother was never in color.
He'd never truly known the color of his brother's hair. Never fully understood the way his brother's eyes the way he can see shades of color in his.
Jerome was nothing like him.
Where Jerome had always been a monochromatic monster in his world, he stood out.
"Bruce!" Jim shouted again, shaking him out of his trance, "What's wrong?" Bruce gasped looking for the words, eyes jumping around Gordon's face taking in the colors and realizing he preferred the other's face. His eyes slid back to the man still gawking at him from across the room, "Bruce, he's not his brother."
"I know that," Bruce mumbled. Bruce was aware that the two detectives had begun talking animatedly behind him but that didn't seem to matter at the moment. Bruce rubbed his eyes trying to stop the feeling of fire that was spreading through his head. The colors were too intense, he couldn't process it all, it was too much.
He felt his breathing speed up as the man took a step toward him.
His soulmate.
Jerome Valeska's brother.
Jeremiah.
The world began spinning and he felt his legs give out as he fell to the floor.
The last thing he heard before everything went black was the sound of several voices calling his name.
-
colors
they danced behind his eyes
the hot burning color of hair
too much
too little
-
"Bruce?" a familiar voice called out.
Bruce let out a groan as he opened his eyes and let them scan the room. He didn't have a clue where he was but was grateful that the walls were stark white. He knew white, he was used to blacks and whites. He's not sure he could deal with the assault of colors his eyes received earlier so soon. Bruce's eyes landed on Gordon who was standing in the corner.
"Detective, what happened?" Bruce mumbled sitting up from the bed. It seemed like he was in a concrete room, he wondered if he was still in Jeremiah's maze.
