"I mean, the guy has to deal with one unstable orphan, and now two?"
"They're more than just orphans...They're kids who still have so much to experience and to learn. Both these kids are going to become something greater and change this city, one wa...
A knock at the door of Wayne Manor surprises the two men inside.
Alfred pokes his head into the library, looking at Bruce.
"Did you invite someone over?" The butler asks.
"No, I definitely did not," he responds, placing the newspaper he was reading down on the coffee table. Alfred looks down at the case laying on the couch next to Bruce, swinging his hand out and motioning for him to put the black suit and mask back inside before he answers the door. Bruce catches on and scrambles to shove it all in. Alfred makes his way to the front door, tightening his posture and clearing his throat. He grips the handle and swings it open.
"Hello...officer," he notices the uniforms on the two men. "How can I help you?" He asks, almost frightened of what could have happened for them to come to the Manor.
"Sir, we're-,"
"Excuse me, officers, I'll take it from here," Gordon's voice fills the atmosphere. "Sorry for the scare, Alfred." Jim makes way from his vehicle to the front door, shaking Alfred's hand as the group walks inside.
"No problem. What can I help you with?"
"Actually, we're just here to retrieve some items from our previous investigation," he starts, his voice becoming solemn. By now, Bruce has made his way into the hallway to hear what is going on. "The department has officially decided to close the Addington case, so they demanded we return back to her room and collect the stuff we left behind." Jim purses his lips, the awkwardness triggering his sensitivity to the subject. Alfred subtly raises an eyebrow, but quickly responds:
"Of course, detective. The room is down that hallway the right. Take as much time as you want," Alfred says. Jim nods his head and leads the other two officers to the room. He opens the door gently and examines the untouched room. The emptiness immediately drives him down a dark lane, old gloomy thoughts bouncing around his mind. He tries to shake it off as he kneels down begins to grab police tape off the ground.
"You alright, Gordon?" One of the officers asks.
"Yeah, um," he stands up and brushes himself off. "I knew the girl personally so...this case feels different than others." He shrugs his shoulders, looking around the room for more police gear and possible evidence. "Are we all good?" He asks.
"Yes, that should be it," one of them responds. The three walk out of them room, and start to exit the mansion. Jim takes a detour to the library to find Bruce and Alfred sitting on the couch.
"Hey, Bruce. Good to see you. We'll get out of your guys' hair right now. I know I told you to stay out of that room until the investigation was over, but now you are legally allowed to clean or do whatever you want with it. Thanks again," he rambles, waving off the two.
"Bye, Detective Gordon," Bruce returns the gesture. Gordon smiles and exits back to his car. The two sit in silence and wait for the sound of engines to stray away from the property. Once they're in the clear, they both let out a huge sigh, as if they were holding their breath.
"I thought you were going to call him last night about the girl?" Alfred asks.
"Too much went down on that rooftop the other day. Plus, she seems like she's just fine being alone. At this rate, we've done well just pretending she doesn't need us anymore," Bruce responds, picking up the newspaper and diving deeper into the articles.
"I do not think we have to pretend, Master Bruce," Alfred responds. "Anyway, I'm finally going to clean that guest room and get the laundry done," he announces, exiting the library. Alfred walks down the hallway to the guest room, opening the handle and being welcomed by a confusing vibe. The room felt clean, but somehow also looked as if a tornado went off. The butler takes a deep breath and begins to snatch the sheets and pillowcases off the bed along with extra blankets, and even the window curtains. With his arms completely full, he makes his way to the laundry room and gets to work filling the washing machine with dirty bedding.
Placing a highlighter in his mouth, Bruce uses his teeth to snap the cap off the pen, and highlighting common trends in the past few weeks worth of The Gotham Gazette. He looks for similar criminal work, copycats, and even annotates different ways to stop them. With all this work, Bruce really starts to believe that he's found his place. Although he has so much more to accomplish, he knows his time to save Gotham will be soon, and it's all he can think about. . .
Along with his encounter with Fayette a couple nights before. He can't get over how much she's changed, both physically and mentally. She still withholds her childish charm, but does it in a woman's body.
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The past few nights, he lied awake a littler longer than normal, thinking about her eyes and her hair whirling around in the nighttime breeze. He thought to himself that although the two might have said some hurtful things that night, there was a mute conversation told between the energy they both share. In his heart, Bruce prays that he will see Faye once again in his life, but his mind tells him that she's completely moved on and has new objectives in her life that even he can't control. He shakes off his foggy thoughts and pulls the newspaper back up into his lap. Just as he's about to highlight an article on the latest bank robbery, Alfred busts into the library.
"Master Bruce," he exclaims, panting after sprinting across the entire manor.
"Alfred, what's-,"
"She knows." He responds sternly, holding up a soggy, wrinkled photo to the boy's face.
"I don't understand-," Bruce starts, but gets stuck on his own words once he recognizes the people in the photo. His father, Alfred, himself...
