Who is Batman? (Superhero Short Stories BK 3)

Chapter 2: Bits of Memory Return

The man awakened once more, almost with a gasp as he looked around. He was lying on an unfamiliar couch with a heavy quilt tossed over him. Where am I? How did I get here, and why does my head hurt so much?

"Hey, you alright over there?"

He looked over at the woman sitting in an armchair across from him. She had her legs pulled up under her, a book across her knees. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and she had a concerned look on her face.

Who is she? Wait, I remember, her name is Andrea. He relaxed slightly and sat up with a grunt of pain as he put pressure on his bandaged hand.

"Careful with that wrist," Andrea murmured as she lay her book aside and stood up. "Let me get you some more pain pills."

"No, I'm good," he told her, not wanting to seem weak. "I don't feel as bad as I did, just hungry."

Andrea laughed and said, "Good thing I fixed us some lunch then. Oh, and your clothes are finished washing and drying. I laid them on my bed if you wish to redress."

He looked up to find Andrea once more biting her bottom lip, her face flushed. Her eyes were on his chest where the robe had gapped, showing off his six-pack and his chest hair. He chuckled, and her eyes came up.

Clearing her throat, Andrea turned toward the kitchen area as she said, "I'll just reheat the food a bit so it will be warm."

With another soft chuckle, he stood up, retying the robe before heading toward her bedroom.

Stepping inside the bedroom, he glanced around, taking note of how clean and neat it was. It was a feminine room without being obnoxiously so. Andrea's curtains were a powder blue that matched the flowers on her white bedspread. The carpet was a dark blue and, since it was an apartment, he figured she'd worked her color scheme around that fact.

He made his way over to the bed where the clothes lay. There were his black dress pants, a thick black pair of socks, his black boxer briefs, and a dark gray cable knit sweater.

Pulling off his robe, he tossed it on the bed. Next, he picked up his boxer briefs, pulling them on, then his pants, hissing through his teeth when a sharp pain moved up his wrist while trying to button his pants. After finally getting them fastened, one-handed, he was glad he didn't have a button-up shirt to put on. Yanking the sweater over his head quickly, he sat down on the bed to pull on the thick black socks.

Taking a moment to look around the floor for shoes, he found none. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a memory of how he didn't like going barefooted. However, there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, so the socks would have to suffice.

He ran a hand through his hair and cringed at how it was stuck up everywhere. He liked his hair neatly combed; he drew in a sharp breath as that memory quickly moved through his mind.

Right behind it was another. My name, my name is Bruce... Bruce what though? I like my hair neatly combed, and I slick it down with gel every morning before going into the office. What office, though? Where do I work?

Bruce grunted in annoyance as he tugged at his hair. He stopped the motion pretty quickly, though when it caused a sharp pain to move through the knot he had on the back of his head.

Standing up, he headed for the bedroom door. How much longer before I know who I am again?

Andrea glanced up as Bruce reentered the living room area and headed toward her, where she stood next to the small table. "I fixed you a plate since the table doesn't have much room."