28 YEARS EARLIER
The car ride back from school was dead silent. It was one in the afternoon— not three, when school usually finished. Bruce had gotten suspended. Again. He'd fought someone. Again. Didn't receive an expulsion solely because his parents' money still funded the school. Again. And Alfred was furious. Again.
The only person in the car angrier than the butler was Meredith, who sat in the back seat with a look so cold that Bruce felt a hole being drilled into his head. A few kids— in particular, Johnny Prescott, world-class schoolyard jerk— were teasing Bruce about his parents. How did Alfred not understand why Bruce was justified in slamming Johnny's head into a bleacher?
Meredith had interjected just before things could get any worse, dragging Bruce away from a crowd of onlooking fellow sixth graders, causing her to be pulled into the office as well. As per usual, she immediately had Gregory on the phone, who scared the vice principal with only a few words, threatening to shut down the place if anything were to happen to his daughter's perfect record. Unfortunately for Meredith, the school settled on a compromise: she had to take the suspension, but it wouldn't be documented.
Obviously, Meredith was flaming. The school's star student couldn't be seen getting suspended, Bruce knew, and he was perhaps almost more scared of her than he was of Alfred. Almost. A silent car ride meant serious trouble— no seeing Devin, who, in all honesty, would probably applaud Bruce for what he did, and no TV. Also no seeing Meredith, but as of right now, that wasn't a bad thing in Bruce's mind.
"I can not believe you got me suspended," Meredith hissed, arms crossed and daggers shooting from her eyes as she glared out the front window. "You're lucky our parents are who they are, or it would've been worse. I'm not allowed back in school for a whole three days!"
Bruce snorted emotionlessly, turning his head away from Alfred. "Sounds like a win to me."
Meredith reached forward and slapped his head. He shouted, whipping around with a snarl.
"Now my dad won't let me listen in on his board of executive's call tomorrow night!" she complained. "They're discussing utility maximization— I've been reading up on that for a week to prepare."
"I feel so bad for you, Mare." He rolled his eyes.
"You should! These companies are our future. Don't you want to know what we're going to be doing when we're older?"
"Not really."
"You know we're eventually going to be the ones to finally pull off the Wayne Enterprises and Elias Incorporated merger, right? You can't merge two, billion-dollar conglomerates together without knowing what capital-labor substitution is, Bruce!"
"There's a reason my dad has Lucius Fox running things— so I don't have to."
"Fox is divided between being temporary CEO and leading innovation in WayneTech, he doesn't have time to successfully complete the merger."
"And that's why Wayne Enterprises has a board of directors."
"Who are all incompetent! You're lucky Fox stepped up, or your directors would've run the company into the ground by now."
"Whatever." Bruce didn't care about what Meredith had to say. She always alternated between the same three topics: trying to convince him to sit in on Elias Incorporated meetings with her (absolute snore), yelling at him for getting in trouble, or complaining about how her perfect grades, perfect attendance, and family connections weren't enough to get her into an Ivy League.
Bruce didn't know when Meredith's entire being had become consumed with worrying about her future (and to some extent, his, too). She was only twelve. Bruce could hardly picture his tomorrow, much less the rest of his life.
But of course Meredith could worry about her future, with her loving parents and excitable brother. Bruce didn't have much in store in regards to family— his indefinite future seemed kind of meaningless.
They pulled up to the front doors of the Elias mansion and Alfred stopped the car. Meredith huffed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Anymore mess-ups and you're gonna end up in Europe with Oliver Queen," she shot behind her as she slipped out of the car.
Maybe life in Europe with Oliver wouldn't have been so bad, Bruce wanted to say. He was sort of sad that Oliver's parents had forced the blond into a boarding school across the world. Bruce missed Oliver at times like this— Devin, while always trying his best to find time to see Bruce, was usually busy with his own friends at Gotham Academy. And, frankly, sometimes Meredith and all of her "capital-labor substitution" got annoying.
She groaned, looking up to the sky as if the god she probably didn't believe in actually existed. "Ugh. My mom's so gonna kill me. Thanks a lot, Brooch."
The door slammed shut and Meredith walked up the long path to the doors of the house, which were expectantly pulled open by their head maid, Nancy. The pair drifted out of sight as the car pulled away, and a sinking realization settled in the pit of Bruce's stomach: he was now alone with Alfred.
There was a long silence down the expanse of the Elias driveway, and just as they passed through the gates, Alfred spoke.
"Master Bruce—"
"Johnny made fun of my parents, Alfred!" Bruce rushed. While it was true, the dead parent card also usually got sympathy out of the otherwise indifferent man.
There was a pause, and Bruce almost let relief fall over his tense shoulders. That should work.
"—I say this with the most utmost respect and love for Thomas and Martha: I simply do not care."
Bruce was taken aback. He didn't care? What did Alfred mean, he didn't care? He couldn't not care— Bruce's parents were dead. As in not coming back. Ever. Not caring wasn't exactly an option.
Alfred apparently sensed Bruce's confusion. "While you have every right to be upset at the injustices of this world, you do not have the right to take it out on anyone who says something cruel."
"He said this city was better off without them," Bruce spat, pushing himself slightly out of his seat and leaning towards the driver's side. "He deserved it!"
"You," Alfred's voice was now raised an octave, making Bruce's anger falter. "Are not the one who gets to decide who deserves what, Master Bruce. Unless you have a hidden degree in law that I am unaware of, you are not a judge, nor are you old enough to be on a jury. And you are most certainly not the executioner."
Silence.
Maybe Alfred would've been right, if Bruce had truly bothered to listen. Bruce understood that his actions had consequences— more serious consequences than those of your regular twelve-year-old. He knew that maintaining composure was the correct way to conduct yourself, but how could he have the composure of Alfred or even Meredith— how could he be bothered to care about how the public perceived him— when the world was so ruthless?
Everything felt like it was against him. Who cared if Bruce got in trouble, or suspended, or expelled? Certainly not him. He didn't care about the company he was inevitably going to have to run, the one that had caused his father nothing but headaches and late nights. Bruce simply just moved through life, oftentimes wishing he wasn't at all, dealing with nightmares that had hardly gotten better in recent years, and doing copious amounts of homework under Alfred's watchful eye.
Bruce didn't know anything about his future, but he knew he couldn't be doing this forever.
The rest of the ride home was quiet.
* * *
"...Provides an economic argument against the manipulation of interest rates by central banks since...consumption habits of consumers...distorting the interest rate encourages...save according to their actual time preferences, leading to ugh."
Meredith squinted her eyes, brushing hair from her face. She sat at her desk in her room, stumped by the current paragraph in her advanced macroeconomics book. How was she supposed to be successful in anything if she couldn't even understand something as simple as diminishing marginal utility?
It was basically economics 101. Why was she so stupid? Meredith always dreamt of walking into one of her father's board meetings and impressing the directors with her knowledge, which was never going to happen because she couldn't even grasp one of the most fundamental concepts of all time.
She sat back in her chair with a huff, glaring at the words on the pages. Sure, she could've gotten an easier textbook to read, but Meredith Elias wasn't a cheater. She didn't cop-out, or take the easy way around— she'd be damned if she didn't finish that textbook and wasn't able to recite every concept within it by next weekend.
Her eyes drooped. Her mother's voice was suddenly in the back of her head: just take a small break, Mare.
No. No.
She couldn't take a break! She wanted to be running the company by twenty-five, effectively making her the youngest CEO in Fortune 500 history. That gave her thirteen years to learn everything. How could she possibly take a break, as her mother so often chided?
Meredith had a future waiting for her that required diligence and commitment. She needed to complete junior high, begin Gotham Academy as an academic-level sophomore, graduate in three years, and go to Harvard. When she graduated from Harvard at twenty, she had five years to gain experience in Elias Incorporated under her father, and then she'd be CEO.
It was simple.
Stupid Bruce, on the other hand, didn't understand what they had waiting for them once they grew up. She didn't know why he didn't like to sit in on board meetings with her (okay, she kind of knew, because who really wanted to listen to her father blabber about monetary neutrality? Well, she did, but that's beside the point).
Meredith had a very clear vision of Bruce's future: they'd both take over their respective companies, finally complete the merger that their fathers weren't able to, and fix Gotham City. Her dad had informed her of all of the potential benefits from combining the companies— decreased unemployment, crime, homelessness, and drug use, just to name a few. And since Devin had about less than zero interest in the family business, it fell upon Meredith's shoulders (and Bruce's) to save the city.
(Also, she kind of maybe possibly hoped that she and Bruce would end up like her parents, but that wasn't really important. Not that she had a crush on Bruce! Bruce was moody and stupid. Bruce got her suspended, for crying out loud. She didn't like Bruce, and she didn't sometimes think about the way that he kissed her in the garden when they were six. She very much did not).
With a long exhale, she reopened her textbook.
"It provides an economic argument against the manipulation of interest rates by central banks since..."
* * *
Bruce stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. He was unable to get himself to fall asleep, partially because he felt guilty about the silent treatment Alfred was now giving him, but partially because he knew what nightmares awaited him the second he closed his eyes.
Now that the anger at Johnny Prescott had subsided, Bruce was just left feeling bad, as he always did after getting in trouble. He felt bad that Meredith was suspended. Bruce didn't mean for that to happen. That probably wouldn't impress her— not that he was trying to! Because he wasn't! Okay... maybe he was a little— but who could blame him? Meredith was hard to impress, and it always made him feel strangely good if she gave him one of her rare nods of approval.
Sometimes he thought about when he kissed her in the Manor garden when they were six. That courage had died along with his parents. He would never dare even suggest that now— Meredith would probably laugh at him.
She was also annoying! There was that, too. That's absolutely the only reason why he wouldn't suggest kissing her, not because he was scared. Ha! He wasn't scared.
He laid on his bed for a few more moments. What would kissing her feel like? Maybe it—
Ping!
He paused.
Did... did he just hear that?
He waited. Silence. He slowly let the tension out of his body as he snuggled back into the comforter.
Ping!
Alright, that wasn't a coincidence.
Bruce waited again for the next sound, realizing it was coming from his window. He slowly rolled off of the bed, tip-toeing to the glass overlooking the side garden of the Manor. He squinted his eyes into the dark. There were a few lights spread throughout the foliage, but nothing bright enough to provide him a visual.
He pushed the window open, cold air rushing through his hair. Suddenly something small and hard hit him in the nose.
"Ow!" he hissed, grabbing his face and stumbling backward.
"Bruce!" There was a voice, sharp and just above a whisper, coming from outside.
He scowled, leaning out over the windowsill again. He narrowed his eyes. His nose was throbbing. A figure was waving their hands down below.
"Helloooo? Bruce? Bruce Thomas? You alive?"
Bruce was silent for a brief second.
"Devin?"
"Oh, thank God I didn't knock your eye out! Yes, it's me, loser."
"Devin! Why are... why are you throwing... was that a rock?"
"A pebble. But, yeah."
"It's one in the morning!"
"I purposely chose the smooth ones so I wouldn't shatter your window. You're welcome."
"You almost shattered my nose."
"Whatever. Listen— guess what? I passed!"
Bruce stared at the figure two stories below. Devin held something in his hand: a piece of paper. What could he possibly...? Oh.
Oh!
Bruce laughed slightly, out of disbelief more than anything else. "You actually got it?"
"Yessir!" Devin proudly held the paper up. "I'm licensed to drive, baby!"
Devin had told Bruce the week before about how he was studying to pass his driver's test. Apparently, Gregory had a shiny blue Mustang waiting for his oldest child. (Coolest car ever, just by the way. Would've been cooler in black, though, in Bruce's humble opinion).
"That still doesn't explain why you're here. At one. In the morning."
"Well, aren't we gonna take the car out?"
"At one a.m.?"
"Hell yeah!" Gregory would've scolded Devin for using those words. Bruce didn't mind.
"Dev, I just got in trouble today. I can't get in trouble again."
"Ooohhh yeah, I forgot about that. Nice job, by the way, throwing Prescott's head into the bleachers and all. Hope he got a nice scar to go with it. What does that have to do with us going out?"
Bruce gave an incredulous stare, even though Devin probably couldn't see it in the dark. "Alfred's going to kill me if he finds out I went with you. Then he'll resurrect me, ground me for the rest of my life, and send me to Europe with Oliver."
"Europe doesn't sound so bad, Shortstack. Oui, oui, baguette, right? Now hurry up and get down here! My car has every radio station. Every single one! Including that one with the inappropriate music that my parents don't let us listen to."
Bruce could hear the cockiness in Devin's voice. The younger boy sighed, resting against the windowsill. Perhaps... perhaps, this would get the nightmares away. Just for the night. And he got to ride in Devin's brand new, would-be-cooler-in-black car.
It couldn't be that bad, right?
* * *
Wrong.
The two boys stood outside covered in rain and oversized policeman coats. The formerly brand new, would-be-cooler-if-it-wasn't-now-destroyed Mustang, laid crushed against a large tree trunk on the side of the road. Red and blue lights from the emergency vehicles flashed behind them, illuminating the frowning face of GCPD Commissioner Peter Blake, who stood in front of the two boys, muttering small obscenities under his breath and repeatedly giving them a dirty look.
Bruce shoved an EMT away from him, who was getting too close in order to make sure neither of the boys had a concussion. Luckily, no one had been hurt severely, minus a few small scrapes and bruises. Bruce sat back on the bumper of the open ambulance, biting his teeth together to stop from shivering. He scowled at everything in sight.
Devin was running his mouth, explaining at a million miles an hour how it simply wasn't their fault, and oh-my-gosh-Peter-the-tree-just-came-out-of-nowhere!
After the Commissioner gave him another deep glare, Devin's answer quickly became okay-okay-fine-it-was-my-fault and pleasedonttellmydad!
Bruce huffed, tuning out of the conversation and looking off into the distance, where a sleek black vehicle was pulling up. That wasn't good. Once parked, a man, tall and lean, and a shorter woman exited the car. The woman looked around briefly, eyes landing on Bruce and Devin, and rushing towards them.
Once she was in the view of the flashing lights, Bruce's heart dropped.
"Devin! Bruce! Oh my goodness!" Eleanor Elias seemed nearly on the verge of tears as she stopped in front of them, scooping both boys up in her arms. Bruce glowered but still pressed his face into the side of her body. Eleanor always smelled like vanilla.
She pulled away, a hand on each of their cheeks before her face fell into a frown. "You both are so lucky this didn't end up worse— you could have died!"
And that mattered why? Bruce wanted to ask. He didn't have much to be here for, anyway. He still held his tongue, though. A mad Eleanor was scarier than a mad Gregory, and that was saying a lot.
But it wasn't that much scarier, which is why Bruce's eyes fell to the floor and he felt Devin tense up next to him as Gregory Elias himself approached the scene. Although Bruce was going to have to deal with Alfred (again, not any less scary than both Elias parents) at least he wasn't Devin. It would suck to be him right about now.
Gregory exchanged some hushed words with Peter, before sighing. He walked over to the two of them.
He stopped.
"Is everyone okay?"
Bruce looked up. That... wasn't what he had expected out of the older man. Bruce nodded slowly.
Gregory's face seemed tentative. "Good. Now that that's out of the way— what the hell were you two thinking?"
Bruce took it back. Gregory was scarier than Eleanor and Alfred combined.
Devin seemed to be expecting it, launching into a speech about what had happened. Every word the teenager said only seemed to anger his father even more. Gregory was now shouting back, voice sharp and bellowing and cold, all while Eleanor stood at his side, disapproving eyes actually making Bruce feel guilty. He didn't like to disappoint Eleanor.
The policemen and EMTs all seemed to back away— no one in Gotham was ridiculous enough to question a raging Gregory Elias.
Bruce shrunk back into himself as if that was going to get him out of trouble in some way. There was suddenly a movement from the black vehicle. Bruce tilted his gaze up to find the back door of Gregory's car opening with a small figure jumping out.
A smirking Meredith strode into view of the flashing lights. She walked next to Gregory's side, who seemed startled by the little girl.
"Meredith! Didn't I tell you to stay in the car?" Gregory's features were tight and angry.
"You did— I just wanted to say something to Bruce." She turned to Bruce with her hands clasped behind her back and a wicked grin. "Amusez-vous en Europe, dites a Oliver que je lui dis."
The words were spoken so fast and with such a perfect accent that Bruce wasn't quite sure what she'd said. He knew that Meredith already spoke four languages— courtesy of Eleanor— English, Spanish, French, and something else Bruce had forgotten the name of. He furrowed his brows.
"It means: have fun in Europe, tell Oliver I say hi." Her smile was cheeky and her nose was tilted up in the air. He knew Meredith must've been enjoying getting back at him for causing her a suspension. His blood ran hot and fast. This was seriously the time Meredith chose to say something?
He opened his mouth to yell back at her, when a new figure approached the group. He turned his head to find a steaming Alfred, chest heaving and shoulders wet with drizzle from the rain. Smoke might as well have been coming off of the butler's jacket.
Meredith's eyes widened, teasingly mouthing a "yikes" as she stepped away and promptly skipped back to the car. If Bruce's heart was in his chest before, it was now at his feet and in a puddle on the floor.
"Bruce." No Master, just Bruce. That was a bad, bad sign.
Devin cringed from next to him.
Bruce pushed the wet hair that clung to his forehead away.
He was in for a really fun night.
* * *
Hello everyone! I'm excited to be back with a new chapter- and I'm finally on summer break! Hopefully that means I can update more books for all of you who are so patiently waiting. I'll actually be posting a second chapter today as well! Thanks for all of your support and 10k reads, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!
xo Alexa