..⃗. [savior complex] 𑁍ࠜೄ ･ﾟˊˎ
╰┈➤ ❝ [happiness, when it's done right, is a kind of holiness.] ❞
╰┈➤ mary oliver
HER HANDS WIPED AT HER DRESS, SIGHING AT THE FAINT WRINKLES IN THE BOTTOM. People crowded all over, filling the sides to get a glimpse at the casket or of Gotham's elite that made their way to pay their respects. Her parents were somewhere outside of the building, chatting with others and getting their photos taken by the journalists and paparazzi that clamored for photos of the event. A small finger poked at her thigh, pulling her attention back to the young boy. His mother had given him a crossword puzzle to do while waiting for others to arrive. Her eyes narrowed as she read the question his finger pointed at. "It's Skywalker." Her finger ran along the long line, making sure the letters fit. She spelled the word out, watching his messy handwriting fills the spaces.
"What's that?" His eyebrows furrowed as he finished writing. His eyes looked up at her with confusion. She chuckled, crossing her legs and pushing a piece of hair out of her face. "Is that a type of car?"
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she held back another laugh. It'd be horribly awkward if she were laughing at a funeral - the mayor's funeral, of all. "He's a guy in a really popular movie. We'll have to watch it someday." Her arm rested across the back of his chair as she watched him shrug and continue his crossword.
Her eyes looked around the building. So many people were crowded inside. A few police officers chatted to the side of the walkpath between the two sections of chairs. Her eyes lingered on Lieutenant Gordon for a fleeting moment. Their eyes met for a moment. He offered a small smile and a wave. She reciprocated both. She'd always liked Gordon, what little the two had interacted. One night, after a frat party where Phoebe had ditched her, she had gotten her purse stolen. Gordon had still been a detective then; apparently he had pissed some higher up off and gotten thrown on street duty. He was kind to her, that's what she remembered the most.
Looking back, she stared back at the entrance of the building where a few people trickled in. The memorial wasn't scheduled to start for another twenty minutes, but she had insisted on getting there much earlier. Mostly so she could see Tim and be there for him. "Miss Dumont," a voice grabbed her attention, "I was hoping to speak with you for a moment? I hate to do this here, but both of your parents look the other way when they see me coming." Bella Reál. New mayor-elect. Not like there was anyone to run against anymore. Siobhan liked the woman - she'd put money that Bella was probably one of the only people actually capable of being a fair mayor. But everyone had said that about Don Mitchell, too. People changed when they tasted a little power. "I was hoping that maybe you'd be a little different."
Biting her bottom lip, she mustered up a smile, pushing herself up from her seat. The two women shook hands, making their way away from the young boy. "What can I do for you, Miss Reál?"
"Please, just call me Bella. I have a feeling the two of us will be working closely when I'm elected mayor." Her smile was kind and generous, like a woman who truly wanted to help Gotham heal from it's misfortune. "Your family, like the Waynes, holds majority of the wealth in Gotham. While the Waynes have a history of philanthropy, the Dumonts, unfortunately, don't. I'm hoping that, together, we can change that reputation." Her arm linked with Siobhan's, beginning to lead the two around the room, just to walk. "I really hope that maybe you could change your parents' thoughts on helping the city out. I'm sure they'll listen to their daughter more than they'll listen to the woman who's been painted as their enemy. I'd much rather work with you than against you."
Siobhan slowly nodded. She almost laughed in the woman's face at the idea that she could convince her parents to give their money away. "I think that sounds amazing. I wish I could say that my parents share the same vision as you, but I think they'd sooner watch the city burn than give away their money."
Bella frowned. "I'm sad to hear that. Do you know if Bruce Wayne will be appearing today? I've heard your families were close when you were children."
"Uhh..." She shrugged, a small frown playing on her own lips. "I'm not totally sure. Bruce and I... We aren't as close as the papers like to think."
Slowly nodding, Bella sighed. "Can I be honest with you, Siobhan?" The woman nodded in response. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do once I'm elected. I have all of these ideas and... no support behind them. It's like... It's like this city is allergic to change." Her frustration was evident in her tone. It made Siobhan feel bad for her. She couldn't imagine being in Bella's position. Promising to help the little man with very little plan on how to do it and very little backing on it all.
The bell tower began to ring. The reporters grew louder outside as more guests began to arrive. Outside, Gerald and Mira Dumont spoke to Police Chief Brock. The three laughed as they shared jokes and stories of Don and Commissioner Savage. Cars continued to pull up as Gotham's elite approached. "Listen, I gotta head in, but I'll talk to you two after, yeah?" Chief Brock smiled, parting ways with the Dumonts. The couple turned to each other, unsure of what to say now that they were alone.
The press louder, more unrowdy, as a black Convertible pulled up. Gerald's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Bruce Wayne climb out of the car. A deep frown played on his lips as he rounded the car, keys in hand. Mira excused herself, entering the large building with the small crowd of people that had gathered at the entrance. Gerald made his way over to the billionaire, a small smirk on his lips. "Mr. Wayne, it's good to see you again. All of Gotham was wondering when we'd see you next." He held his hand out to shake.
Bruce's jaw visibly clenched as he shook the man's hand. All he could see as he looked in the man's face was the bruises that had begun to form on Siobhan's neck and jaw. If it were just them, he'd think about punching the man in the jaw. God knows he deserved worse than that for everything he'd done. His grip tightened on Gerald's hand. He pulled the judge closer. "If you ever lay a hand on Siobhan again, I'll end your career." His voice was low and threatening, just loud enough for either of them to hear.
His eyebrows shot up at the threat. He let out a low whistle, glancing down at their hands. "I have no clue what you're-"
"How do you think people will feel knowing Gotham's esteemed upholder of the law beats his child and refuses to pay child support to his bastard children?"
It was Gerald's turn to clench his jaw at Bruce's assault of accusations. From behind him, Bruce could see another car pull up. His eyes slightly widened as he watched Oswald Cobblepot step out, holding an umbrella as he opened the back door of the car. Out stepped Carmine Falcone who held out a hand to a woman in the back. His full attention was on the car, drowning out whatever Gerald Dumont was saying. A familiar pair of black boots stepped out from the car. A woman with short, dark hair and a hat covering her face stepped out. Her arm clung to Carmine's.
Bruce remained silent as he dropped Gerald's hand, pushing past the older man. He made his way through the crowd towards Carmine. "Whoa!" The scarred man stepped in front, blocking Bruce from Carmine. "Give us a wide berth here, would ya, slick?" Oswald glared him down, his arm pressed against Bruce's chest to hold him back.
Glancing back, Carmine froze. He turned, revealing an unfamiliar woman on his arm. "Hey, watch it, fellas." He chuckled, taking a step closer to get a good look at the billionaire in front of him. "You got the prince of the city there. Some event, huh?" His eyes looked over Bruce, taking in his appearance, though his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. "Brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me."
"Thought you'd never leave the Shoreline." Bruce remarked, his eyes glancing back at the frowning woman behind Carmine. "Aren't you afraid someone'll take a shot at 'cha?"
"Why? 'Cause your father ain't around?" Bruce's jaw clenched at the mention of his father. "Oz, you know Bruce Wayne?" He glanced over at the scarred man. "His father saved my life. I got shot in the chest. Right here." He pointed to a spot on his ribs, just under his lungs. "I couldn't go to no hospital, so we showed up on his doorstep. Operated right on the dining room table. Kid here, he saw the whole thing up on the stairs, looking down." His eyes bore into Bruce's, even through the sunglasses. "I remember your face. You don't think that meant something, he did that?"
"It means he took the Hippocratic oath."
Carmine began to chuckle, shaking his head. "'Hippocratic oath.' That's good." His smile felt disingenuous, like a snake playing with its prey. Bruce made his way past the man, making his way into the building and ignoring the man's laughter behind him.
Bella stiffened as she watched Bruce enter the building. "Excuse me," she excused herself from Siobhan's side and began pushing her way through the crowd.
With a small smile, Siobhan returned to her spot next to Tim. His timid eyes looked up at her, worry etched into his features. "Hey, what's up?" She crouched in front of him. Her chin rested on the palm of her hand as she sent a sympathetic smile to the boy. She knew this was probably the last place he wanted to be, gawked at like an alien incapable of feeling their own emotions. "Talk to me."
"I don't wanna be here." He leaned up and whispered to her. "There's so many people here."
"I know, bud," she whispered back, grabbing his hands in hers, "you know what we do when we have to do something we don't like?"
"Grin and bear it."
She chuckled, a bright smile on her lips that was now spreading to his. "Exactly. We grin and we bear it and we count down the seconds until it's over." Pressing a gentle kiss to his hands, she stood back up from her spot. Her eyes quickly found the billionaire's. Bella clung to his arm, speaking to him softly so that others wouldn't intrude. Her eyebrows furrowed when she noticed that his tie was crooked.
Bella excused herself from Bruce and began to make her way over to Mrs. Mitchell and her son. Siobhan moved past them, making her way towards the man she looked for. As she approached him, her hands gently tugged at his tie, loosening it. "Let me guess, she's telling you about how you need to give the city all your money?" She chuckled as her fingers deftly fixed his tie. "She said the same thing to me. I say just let us hoard our wealth like dragons and watch the city burn from our ivory towers."
Bruce's eyes ran along her face. He could see the bruising faintly peeking out from under her foundation. They told him that he'd done right by saying something to Gerald. But her demeanor showed no sign of distress or even downheartedness that she displayed the previous night. He wanted to know how she did it, put on a face so easily, so effortlessly. If he hadn't been there last night, he might've never known of what had transpired.
He watched her fight the urge to bite her lip in fear of ruining her berry-colored lipstick. The corners of his lips barely perked up as he watched rub her lips together, smearing a teeny bit at the corner. His hand lifted, his thumb gently wiping off the small bit of lipstick. Her smile widened at the action, quietly thanking him. He remained silent, eyes still watching her tighten his tie and admire her work. He swallowed the lump in his throat at just how beautiful she was. How put together she truly was, how lucky he felt just to have her near him.
His eyes moved past her, to the little boy sitting in the chair in the front. The boy turned around, his eyes meeting Bruce's. Siobhan followed his gaze, sending the boy a small wave. "He's a strong kid. I hate funerals. People always act like kids can't think for themselves, like they're some pet who needs to be pitied. Kids are smart, they know how to feel, what to think." Her arms crossed over her chest as she turned her attention back to Bruce. "You remember the memorial for your parents? Jeez, that was painful enough for me to watch all those people gawk at you. They acted like you weren't even a person."
Behind her, a small hand slid into hers. She looked down to see Tim holding her hand, halfway obscured behind her leg. With a chuckle, she gently tugged him forward. "Tim, I'd like you to meet my friend, Bruce Wayne. Don't worry, he won't bite." Tim took a step forward, holding his free hand out to the man. The corners of Bruce's lips lifted as he gently shook the kid's hand. "Y'know, Tim here got all A's on his last report card and one of his teachers hung up his paper on President Kennedy. I think he's got the makings to be the next super-genius." She smiled as he hid behind her leg again.
"Gil Colson's missing," Lieutenant Gordon spoke in a hushed tone to an officer and Chief Brock, "his wife just put the call in this morning."
Both Bruce and Siobhan looked in their direction, their eyebrows furrowed for different reasons. Siobhan felt a pit in her stomach begin to grow at the memory of his hands on her, his lips on her. Bruce replayed the night before, Selina's conversation with him about the rat. He'd been drunk and high out of his mind, stressed about the Riddler.
"Mr. Wayne," one of the officers smiled, waving at the two, "hey." Both Gordon and Brock glanced back at them, their eyes diverted to the young boy hidden behind Siobhan's leg.
She chuckled, her hand reaching up to run along his tie. "Looks like you've got a fan club. Maybe I could skip the line and be president-"
Her words were cut off by a commotion outside. A loud bang, followed by a rumble and people screaming. Everyone stood up from their chairs, all attention directed to the entrance. Her eyebrows furrowed as her grip on Tim tightened. She started to back up slowly, pulling Tim with her. Bruce remained steadfast, his gaze slowly moving up to the overlooking balcony above them. A man stood in the middle, shadowed by the bright sun behind him. Bruce's eyes widened. It was him. His gut told him so.
Looking back down, he watched as a car crashed through the first set of doors. He quickly turned, yanking Tim and Siobhan out of the path of the speeding car. Everyone screamed as the car slammed into chairs before halting as it crashed into concrete pillar. Siobhan held Tim close and tight. Mrs. Mitchell rushed over, pulling her son from the woman's arms. Tears streamed down her face as she held her son close.
Bruce pulled back, his arms still around Siobhan. "Are you okay?" She asked him, her eyes wide. Behind them, police surrounded the vehicle, their guns drawn. They both stood up, Siobhan clinging to Bruce's arm. He glanced back up at the overlook, frowning at the disappearance of the figure. The car door opened, everyone flinching back as Gordon ordered the man to step out with his hands up.
The shaky man climbed out. "Jesus," Siobhan whispered under her breath as the man stepped further out of the car, "it's Colson." Duct tape covered his mouth and dried blood stained his head and face. A large brace was strapped around his neck, blinking red and blue.
"He's got a bomb around his neck!" A woman shouted causing everyone to shout in horror and back up. The cellphone taped to his hand began ringing, followed by more screaming. "Get everyone out of here!" Gordon ordered his men.
Bruce's jaw clenched as his eyes zeroed in on a yellow envelope taped to the man's chest. 'To The Batman' it read. Siobhan tugged at his arm. "We need to go." She whispered in his ear. "You can come back later in your suit. But we need to go now." With a fleeting moment, as people were evacuated out, he slowly nodded. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from the scene. She glanced back, her wide eyes meeting Gil's for a moment before she followed Bruce out of the building.
One of the valets quickly handed Bruce his car keys. Bruce pulled her towards the car, ignoring the glares that both Mira and Gerald sent the two. She climbed into the passenger seat, letting out a shaky breath. "Fuck," she hissed under her breath, "that was... that was fucking Colson." Her hands ran through her hair before running down her face, oblivious to the makeup she smeared. "You can't... Bruce, you can't go into that."
"I have to. There's a note for me on him." He spoke as he drove through the city, back to his house. His eyes remained on the road for the most part. His eyes would glance over at her. What if he hadn't shown up today? Would her and that boy been crushed by the car? He frowned at the thought. But he was there, and he'd gotten them both out of the way. They were both okay. His hand twitched, his eyes glancing at her again. His body stiffened as her hand grabbed his, squeezing it. "I have to go back, Siobhan."
"I know." She whispered, staring down at their hands. This felt different than when she'd held his hand in the cave. Her face began to flush, and she just hoped that she'd packed on enough foundation to cover it. "I hope Tim's okay." Her voice was quiet. "Thank you... for getting us out of the way. Probably wouldn't have been that fast if it were just me there."
His eyes glanced between the road and their intertwined hands. The rest of the drive was silent, both too occupied in their own thoughts to speak. As the car pulled into the garage, Alfred stood by the door, waiting with a worried frown. Their hands separated, leaving a cold emptiness for the both of them. "I saw the news," he spoke as they climbed out of the car, "are you both okay? Is this related to the Riddler?"
Bruce remained silent as he passed Alfred, disappearing into the house. Siobhan and Alfred followed closely behind. "It was Colson. He's got a bomb around his neck." She informed the older man as they neared the elevator, stopping as Bruce quickly typed in the code. "The car was covered in Riddler's trademarks." Alfred frowned deeper.
When the elevator opened, the three entered. They all remained silent. Siobhan took a minuscule step towards Bruce, her hand gently slipping into his. Part of her was worried that he'd pull away in the presence of another. But his hand tightened around hers. A small smile replaced Alfred's frown for a moment, watching Siobhan lean her head against Bruce's shoulder. The elevator halted, and the three made their way into the cave. Bruce to his suit and Siobhan and Alfred to the computers. She quickly logged in, pulling up the link to the contact lens on one screen and turning on the news on another. Live footage was playing of the memorial building and the hostage inside. Her movements stopped as one of the screens was frozen on the woman from the Iceberg, now in a short red wig. It looked like she was in a bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. Siobhan glanced back at Bruce, who was too busy pulling his suit on to notice. She closed the screen, pulling up the camera linked to the lens inside the case.
Her gaze moved back to Bruce. Alfred helped buckle the back of his suit. She grabbed the jar of grease paint, nearing him. "Y'know, you can always borrow my eyeliner, if you want. Sixteen-hour stay promised." The small smirk on her lips was playful as she opened the jar. The corners of his lips perked up as he looked down at her. "Close your eyes." She spoke softly as she dipped her fingers in the paint. A wince crossed her face at the texture. Standing on her tiptoes, she brought her fingers up to his eyes, the paint gently gliding across his eyelids. He flinched at the contact before relaxing. A small smile grew on her lips as her fingers drew a large circle around both of his eyes. His hand gripped her waist to steady her. Her jaw clenched at the contact, but she continued to draw clean lines, filling in any crevice she had missed. "Okay," she whispered, setting the jar down, "you're all good, Batman."
His eyes opened, revealing the small smile on her berry-stained lips. He'd thought about kissing her right then and there. Who knows when this bomb could go off, maybe it'd kill him. Maybe this would be his last chance with Siobhan. At the rate things were going, he didn't have much time left. It wouldn't hurt if he just leaned in closer.
She took a step back, pulling out of his loose grip. Closing the jar, she moved past Bruce and returned to the computers. He frowned as he grabbed his mask from the desk, pulling it on over his head. "Alright, I'll be keeping an eye on everything from here. Not sure I can be much help, but... y'know. Sometimes all you need is some company, right?"
"Thank you." His voice was quiet, almost inaudible to her.
Alfred stood by the television screen on the wall behind them. His worried frown returned as he looked back at Bruce. "Are you sure you have to go back? Can't the police just handle this?"
Siobhan smiled at the man's worry. Her hand reached out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He mustered up a small smile, but his worry was eating at him. He didn't want to send Bruce out to his possible death. And he didn't want Siobhan down here to witness it. "Just be careful, okay?" She turned her attention back to Bruce, a frown playing on her lips.
"I'm always careful." For a long time, she almost thought he was incapable of making jokes. But the very faint upturn of his lips told her different.
With a scoff, she pinched his bicep as she returned to her stool in front of the computers. "Seriously," her voice stopped him as he neared his motorcycle, "be safe. We don't need you coming home in a bodybag."
Bruce simply nodded, climbing onto his motorcycle and leaving the cave, leaving a frowning Siobhan and Alfred. She sighed as the contact lens connected to the computer, showing her the wet streets of Gotham that Bruce rode down. "Can you hear me?" She asked into the small microphone. He responded that he could. Spinning in her stool, she frowned as Alfred continued to watch the news. "Al, you don't have to stay down here. I can always come up and get you if anything happens."
Alfred slowly nodded. He turned to face her, a small smile on his lips. "I'll go fetch you some blankets. It's quite chilly down here. Still don't know how he stands it, I tell ya." With that, he turned and made his way back to the elevator.
When Bruce pulled his motorcycle into the alley beside the large building, he made his way towards the side door. His heavy boot kicked it open with ease. "You could've just seen if it was locked or not." Siobhan chuckled from the other end. He ignored her as he entered the building, making his way through the back until he neared an opened door, moonlight pouring from it.
He entered the large room where people had been gathered earlier. The shadows covered him, but Gil stiffened at the heavy presence. His eyes stared as Bruce slowly stepped into the light of the moon. A small robot with a camera was a foot from him, broadcasting him to a screen outside for the police. Brock and Gordon watched with deep frowns as Bruce stepped into view of the camera. The phone taped to his hand continued to ring. "Jesus," Siobhan whispered as she stared at Gil with a frown.
Bruce approached him, reaching down to pull the tape off of his mouth. "Please, I'm so sorry! He made me do it. He told me if I didn't do exactly what he said, he'd kill me. I'm so sorry." He practically sobbed for forgiveness.
"Looks like a combination lock." Bruce spoke, mostly to himself and to Siobhan behind the computer.
"Can't we just cut it off?" Gil asked in frustration.
"Not if you want to keep your head."
"Watch it." Siobhan warned quietly.
Gil sighed, his eyes shutting as tears slipped down his cheeks. Bruce ripped the envelope from his chest, opening it to reveal another secret admirer card. 'In these trying times... NEVER FORGET... I'm just a Phone Call Away' the card read. Messy handwriting wrote all along the lefthand side of the card. 'Ring... Ring... Ring...' over and over. 'ANSWER' was written in the middle of the righthand side.
Gil held up the phone taped to his hand. An unknown number was calling. He braced himself as Bruce answered the phone call. The screen illuminated a dark room, a lone chair sat in the middle of a dark room, a question mark painted on the wall in white paint. Heavy breathing could be heard on the other end. The masked man on the phone slowly walked into frame, only the left side of his face visible. "You came." The man's raspy voice spoke.
"Who are you?" Bruce asked, glaring at the screen.
"Me?" The man responded. His face grew closer to the screen, his glasses reflecting the light. "I'm nobody. I'm just an instrument... here to unmask the truth about this cesspool we call a city."
"'Unmask?'"
"Yes." He breathed. "Let's do it together, okay? I've been trying to reach you. You're part of this, too."
Siobhan's jaw clenched as she watched the masked man speak. Her frown deepened, only made worse with the things he said. She felt no pity for the man, especially seeing a... friend bloodied and taped up. Her arms crossed over her chest as she pulled the heavy blanket closer to her cold body. She hadn't expected to be sitting in Bruce's cave when she picked out the spaghetti-strapped dress for the funeral.
"How am I a part of this?" Bruce asked the masked man.
"You'll see." The man responded, taking a step back from the phone. "Say hello to my followers. We're live." Siobhan leaned over to another computer, pulling up the livestream that the man was referring to. Thousands of people were already watching, sending comments about how Gil deserved to blow for his corruption. Curses spilled from her lips as she watched. "They're here to watch our little trial. At the moment... the man across from you, Mr. Colson, is dead."
"Jesus, can't we get somebody out here? This psycho's gonna kill me-"
"SHUT UP!" The masked man on the phone screamed, grabbing the phone and bringing it close to his mask. "You deserve to be dead after what you did! YOU... HEAR... ME...?!" Bruce's eyes remained watching the screen, only seeing a spoiled child in a mask. His jaw clenched as the man on the phone hummed aloud before devolving into a laugh. "I'm giving you a chance. No one ever gave me a chance."
"Jesus, cry me a fuckin' river." Siobhan muttered under her breath.
Gil turned the phone over to look at the camera. "Now..." the masked man continued, "ever since I was a child, I've always loved little puzzles. For me, they are a retreat... from the horrors of our world. Maybe they can bring some comfort to you, too, Mr. Colson."
"You want me to do puzzles?" Gil asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
The man began to laugh and nod his head. "Three riddles in two minutes. You give me the answers, and I'll give you the code for the lock. Do you understand?" Gil emphatically nodded his head as he stood up from his seat. The collar around his neck beeped as a timer appeared on the front. The collar buzzed loudly, startling Gil. "Riddle number one... 'It can be cruel, poetic, or blind... but when it's denied, it's violence you may find.'"
Siobhan muttered the words aloud. Her mind raced, as did Bruce's. "Justice!" She shouted into the microphone. Bruce repeated her and Gil repeated Bruce.
"Yes!" The man shouted in glee. "Justice! And you were supposed to be an arm of justice in this city... along with the late mayor and police commissioner... were you not, Mr. Colson?" Gil quickly nodded, feeling every passing second on the collar of the bomb around his neck. "Riddle number two... 'If you are justice, please do not lie... what is the price for your blind eye?'"
"Bribes." Bruce quickly responded, watching Gil pace around. When Gil repeated him, Bruce stopped him. "He's asking you how much it cost for you to turn your back."
"Fifty-eight seconds!"
"How much?" Bruce asked.
"Nothing!" Gil exclaimed.
"How much?!" Bruce shouted.
"Ten grand!" Gil responded with fear lacing his voice. "Ten Gs a month. I get a monthly payment just to not prosecute certain cases."
"What cases?" Bruce asked.
"Hey, he didn't ask that!" Gil exclaimed, holding the phone back up to his face. "Ten grand." He told the masked man.
The man on the phone laughed maniacally now. "Okay, okay, okay! Don't lose your head now, Mr. Colson! Just one more to go before your time runs out! Last riddle... 'Since your justice is so select... please tell us which vermin you're paid to protect.'"
Gil's eyebrows furrowed, as did Siobhan's, but Bruce knew exactly what it meant. "The rat. The informant you all protect from the Salvatore Maroni case."
"How do you know about that?" Gil asked.
"What's his name?" Bruce asked.
"Twenty seconds!" The masked man called out with pure elation in his voice.
"He's gonna kill you!" Bruce exclaimed as Gil shook his head.
Gil continued to shake his head, tears beginning to run down his face. "I'm a dead man. You're talking to a dead man, okay? If I go out this way, it's just me." Bruce approached him, grabbing his arms to ground him. "But if I give over that name... I have family, people I love. He'll kill them, too."
"Who?!"
"Bruce, get the hell away from him!" Siobhan shouted into his earpiece.
"It's so much bigger than you could ever imagine!" Gil huffed out as the timer counter down to the last seconds. "It's the whole system!"
"Bruce! Get the fuck away!" Siobhan shouted, throwing off the blanket and standing from her seat. "BRUCE!"
The bomb exploded, sending Bruce backwards and sending bits of gore around the entire room. The computer screen cut to black. Siobhan stared at her own reflection in the computer screen, tears beginning to build up in her eyes. Had she just... Had she just witnessed the death of Bruce Wayne? Biting her bottom lip, she reclaimed her seat on the stool, staring at the screen, a newly empty feeling in her stomach.