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Monday, May 14th, 2017. 6:27 PM.
• • •
In the back of the car loaned to them by Bruce, I sat listening to their idle conversation. Arthur didn't speak much, and Ingrid seemed to hate the silence. I twisted my fingers over and over again, trying to quell my nerves. So many questions were running through my mind, and I wanted to ask them what they knew, but Ingrid made a habit of deflecting questions with the simple statement: "Bruce will have to explain it. It's not my place."
So, I had stopped asking and just set my gaze on the changing scenery.
6:36 PM
I found him in the kitchen. The sun had already set, and I had stormed in past Arthur and Ingrid, not needing any escorts. I was familiar with the layout of his house. Alfred's voice was asking about dinner but had trailed off once I stepped onto the dark tiled floor. Bruce was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed. His demeanor changed the moment he saw me, his shoulders relaxed, and he immediately walked around the small group who had his undivided attention.
I caught a glimpse of a young man with a shovel and dirt on his boots, another who was hiding his metallic body in sweats, both who I recognized as Victor Stone and Barry Allen. My eyes skimmed over the woman who was there when Clark had died for just a moment, her eyes soft and sad, before Bruce stepped into my eyesight.
"Annie, are you okay?" He asked.
Behind us, I heard Ingrid whisper something, but I ignored it and looked Bruce squarely in the eye.
"The cult that is obsessed with Steppenwolf tried to assassinate me, and my so-called therapist was the one they sent. So, no, I am not okay." I seethed.
"Okay, have you eaten?" He placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me further into the kitchen. The group had dispersed disappearing into the living room. I sat at the island, perched on a stool watching Bruce sit across from me. Not even a minute after I sat down was there a plate of pasta in front of me. Alfred places a cold glass of water next to it, and I smiled up at him.
"Thank you, Alfred."
"My pleasure, Annie. It's good to see you," he turned his dark eyes to Bruce, who shook his head. Alfred sighed and joined the rest of the group, trying not to eavesdrop on our conversation.
A few tense moments passed as he let me eat. I hadn't realized how hungry I was, not having eaten since ten this morning. As I spun noodles around on my fork, he cleared his throat, and I cast my blue eyes to his serious face.
