Empathy

Disaster Strikes and I Meet My Uncle

The explosion still rings in my ears. I can still hear the screams, their screams especially. Their's are still fresh in my ears, and they don't seem to be going away. I was one of the ten kids orphaned. Seven of the other's have already been adopted, most likely by friends of their parents. Paul and mom's friends don't seem to want a trouble maker, because none of them have contacted the station. The other two were put into fosters. 

Nico came by, if only to say he was sorry and to let him know if I needed something all I had to do was ask. I told him not to be surprised if I went off the radar for a few years. He accepted it and shadow traveled away. Diana came too, said I could stop by anytime. I told her, I would if I was in town, of only to let her know that her favorite "baby cuz" was alright. She laughed but walked away with a solemn face. 

Now I was sitting here, practically alone, in Manhattan's police department. Waiting for someone who'd never come. Or al least I thought would never come. There was click as the door opened. And there in all his glory stood Bruce Wayne. Yes I know who he is, I may be slow, immature and an idiot, but I'm not stupid. Mom had always talked about a childhood friend, from her hometown in Gotham. Her description of the guy matched Mr. Wayne's completely. The only she, conveniently, forgot to list was the fact that her childhood friend was fricking billionaire Bruce Wayne!

The man seemed to radiate confidence as he walked closer to me. His gaze seemed to intimidate  the newer and younger police officers. But when his onyx eyes locked onto mine, I held them. I didn't flinch or cower or anything really, I heard those blue eyes that looked oh so similar to my mother's pair. I would not show weakness. Never again. Bruce seemed to like my rebellious act, because he smiled, small but genuine. I raised an eyebrow, and the police officers watched on in confusion at our silent conversation. 

"You?" I asked quietly my voice was hoarse, It was the first world I'd spoken since Sally and Paul Blofis's deaths.

"Me." He confirmed. I nodded, stood up and followed him out without another word. the car ride was mostly silent, but I could tell Bruce wanted to say something, so I started a conversation. 

"Why do you put on a façade? You're much more bearable when you don't talk." He almost did a double take. 

"W-what?" I turned to him blankly.

"You ware a facade, why?" He composed himself quickly. 

"What makes you think I ware a facade?"

"A few things, one, you just confirmed it for me. Two, if you were't waring one you'd be going on and on about your life and the women you've "scored" you'd also be asking me question's non stop, not sitting quietly and hating for me to speak first." He nodded absentmindedly. 

"And three?" 

"You haven't smiled once on this ride."I said bluntly. "So let me ask you again, why do you ware a facade? To hide something most likely. But what? Yourself, your feelings, your pain, someone, something. All I'm saying is that you're hiding something, and based on how hard you're trying to compress and or hide you emotions, it's something big." By now he was slightly gaping. 

"He read you like a book, master bruce." Alfred commended. I felt a small smile creep it's way onto my face. 

"Well I." Bruce paused, obviously not used to being read so easily. "Yes, I am. But I'm not telling you till I know I can trust you."

"Fair."