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He's just a kid.
Bruce couldn't stop his rapid heartbeat as he hid in the mirror maze. He was scared, more than scared. He knew what Jerome was capable of, especially with a gun.
"Ooh Brucie! Come here boy!"
His tormenting was scaring Bruce even more then he was. But he knew why he was doing this, for Alfred, for Y/N.
"You're just hiding from your problem here Bruce! You can just make it easier by coming out to your old friend!" his laugh filled the hall. It was haunting.
Bruce's eyes closed to hold in the threatening tears. He knew what that psychopath was talking about. Everybody knew what happened.
"Come on boy. Come out to playyyy!" he waved the gun around teasingly, "you ruined my show Bruce. Hidings just going to make things worse."
The image of the young Wayne appeared in the mirrors, "I didn't come here to hide," Jerome turned and shot his gun to a mirror. And soon enough Bruce was gone once again, "I wanted you to follow me. You're going to pay for what you have done."
Jerome laughed once again, that wicked laugh that pierced Bruce's ears, "what I did? Brucie boyyyy that was all you!"
Yet another corner, and a corner and a corner.
"I've gotta tell ya this is way more fun than what I expected," Jerome looked at himself in one of the many mirrors, combing his hair back, "we make a great team, you and me."
"You killed Alfred and my girlfriend," yet another gunshot to a mirror.
"Is that what this is about? Eesshh are all rich kids so close with their butlers?" Jerome let out that wicked grin, "and your little girlfriend? Eehhh she was just plain annoying."
The footsteps and Bruce's imagine the mirrors again. Another gunshot.
"This is about doing what's right."
"You wanna be a hero?! Tell you what buddy," he danged the gun from his fingertips before dropping and sliding it on the floor, "I'll give you a fighting chance. Let's do this mono e mono, my little concesta dore," he slide a knife out from his sleeve and a 'come here' hand, "come on."
He was ready, he was prepared to stab Bruce there and then, but didn't expect him to tackle from behind.
"What kind of hero tackles someone from behind?" Jerome questioned, crawling towards his dropped knife while Bruce grabbed at him to stop.
A kick to Bruce's face before they both stood in fighting stances, Jerome throwing the first hit and winning, throwing the second hit but losing. Bruce hit him in the rib before going for the face as Jerome stumbled back while holding his face in place. Jerome was missing every swing and was getting beaten badly. But now, they were on the floor, Bruce continuously punching Jerome's falling off face that bleed badly. Bruce grabbed a piece of broken glass beside him before holding it just about Jerome. He could end him, he could kill him right now. But just as he was about to, a voice called to him, causing him to look up into the reflections of the mirrors. And there was the face of her, the face of a girl that was supposed to be dead.
"Bruce don't do this," Bruce's jaw hung wide open. He thought she was dead, "if you do this then you are no better than him."
Looking back down at the man below him, he screamed. He let out all the anger, all that he bottled up inside for so long. But once he got up, pushing off of Jerome's chest, he turned to see someone he never thought he would see again. Y/N standing there with a smile, walking closer to Bruce, step by step. And soon enough, they collided into a bone crushing hug, almost as if he let her go, she would disappear again.
"I thought you were dead," Bruce whispered into Y/N's ear, kissing her head repeatedly.
