CHAPTER 16: "What Are You?"

*Wayne Manor

If you were to ask the average person in the world who Bruce Wayne was the response would be synonymous with:

"Rich"

"Playboy"

"Drunk"

"Businessman"

"Ignorant"

"Philanthropist"

"Hot"

"Eccentric"

And etcetera.

However, those in the higher echelons of business and politics were cautious of Gotham's favorite billionaire son. Underneath the glam, sports cars, supermodels, and boyish good looks was something unnerving. For despite his extravagant spending and appearance of business acumen being that of a rock, it could not be denied that Wayne Enterprises somehow still boasted one of the best portfolios in the world.

With its current owner's best intent, it seemed to waste money by the shiploads. It was a known fact due to tax forms that Wayne Enterprises spent millions to hundreds of millions on their R&D department at the whim of its owner on a myriad of projects that rarely if ever saw the light of day. Those staggering costs were further amplified by extravagant galas and charity events that Bruce Wayne insisted on, for both the good PR and his ego it seemed to many.

Though much credit must be given to the skilled executives that ran the company that kept the behemoth that is Wayne afloat.

Lucius Fox, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and business manager to the surviving Wayne was one such example. Originally starting out in R&D as a technician, he attracted the attention of Wayne the same year the young man returned from his foreign travels after years to take control of his family legacy. Fox would not stay in his low position long though as Wayne personally made him CEO of the company a few months after their first meeting. Many had mocked the idea of such a low-level employee rising through the ranks so quickly, and a few more... 'old fashioned' in their thinking did not believe a man of Fox's 'heritage' could be successful. When a few of the older executives had raised their 'concerns' they got to witness a furious Bruce Wayne fire them on the spot.

Angered by being fired for expressing what they felt were valid 'concerns', they waited and laughed at the idea of Fox and Wayne failing in the first year. They would be sadly disappointed by the first yearly fiscal report under Lucious Fox's leadership. Wayne Enterprises saw a boom in growth and revenue, it silenced many critiques of Bruce Wayne's decision to hire a low-level employee. And as Wayne Enterprises continued to see success thanks to its strong leadership many thought Bruce had merely gotten lucky, but a few began to wonder if the man was shrewder than they had thought.

Politicians were certainly leery of him. Despite giving a very laissez-faire attitude when it came to politics many saw that as merely a mask. After all, he had personally helped finance the Majors Crimes Unit for GCPD, and saw to the financing of District Attorney Harvey Dent's election, the mayor, several state senators, and even the governor all had heavy financial support from Wayne. Typically, just going to one of Wayne's parties and asking him for a few million in campaign funds would have him laugh and hand it over with barely a blink. Many would take that as no strings attached, but most found themselves at times having to host Bruce for a meeting, occasionally a polite request. And before they knew it, thanks to the ease at which they got the funds, they soon found themselves bound to rely more and more on the billionaire for their elections.

Wayne seemed willing to finance anyone competent enough to run for election... as long as they were clean.

Many aspiring politicians, especially in Gotham had taken dirty money from various sources. It soon became clear any attempt at petitioning Wayne would be a lost cause. He stayed far away from the criminal elements of Gotham... perhaps due to his tragic past.

'Life has been good,' Lucius Fox thought as he sat in a leather armchair in one of the guest waiting rooms at the manor.

The first time he visited the famous Wayne Manor he had been amazed to see the size of the grounds and structures that dominated them. When he had jokingly asked the butler just how big the estate was he was told, "As big as Master Wayne deems it to be sir," with a hint of amusement in his dry British accent.

He had visited many times these past few years and despite that, the butler, undoubtedly for his amusement, kept having him sit in a different waiting area every time.

Speaking of the devil, Alfred Pennyworth, an older thin man in perfect attention walked into the room carrying a set of drinks which he sat down on the table in front of Fox.

Fox was enjoying the old leather armchair that probably cost more than his car when the drinks arrived. His old age was always reminding him of the fact of his slower gait, popping knees, and sore joints. To his credit, his brown skin had managed to avoid having too many wrinkles, but then his hair had to grey and go white immediately after he turned 40 giving the impression he was ancient to many people.

"59 is the new 30!" He had yelled at his children and grandchildren who liked to poke fun at him. All the more reason to kick them out of his will!

Clearing his throat Alfred said, "Master Bruce will be here in just a moment, he is finishing some training with Dick right now."

Fox nodded appreciatively, "Thanks Alfred, no rush, the business day is over and I have no major commitments."

Alfred gave him a smile and a polite bow, ever the professional butler he was, and began to make his way out of the room when he paused. Turning around he had a worried look on his face.

"Alfred?" Fox asked cautiously.

"Master Wayne..." Alfred began, slowly and carefully, like he was pondering his words.

"Master Wayne has had trouble sleeping these last few weeks since the Narrows war and the burning of Eastside Gotham."

Fox stared at Alfred for a moment, trying to read his expression.

"Is Bruce having trouble or is... the other guy having trouble?" Fox asked carefully.

Alfred sigh before leaning against the chair facing Fox, it was at that point he realized how tired Alfred looked.

'It seems like he is not the only one struggling with sleep.' Fox thought.

"Master Wayne has usually been able to keep separate his day life from his nightlife. Despite the occasional... 'challenge' the nightlife has never made him lose sleep to this extent." Alfred rubbed his brow wearily, "To answer your question I think it is both Bruce and the 'other guy' that are struggling. Despite a fairly successful night he still is pained by failing that young man. Despite what Gordon, Dick, Barbra, and even Dr. Thompkins tell him."

"I suppose that makes sense," Fox said, Alfred's look of confusion had him elaborate.

"Newspapers were talking about the Batman being more active than usual, Black Mask supposedly has left the city and every organized criminal is hiding out in their shelters waiting for Batman to go back to the standard routine," Fox said.

Alfred nodded, "Yes, and as more time goes I am worrying more and more." He paused for a second to consider his words.

"I think," Alfred began, "He is worried about what could happen to Dick and Barbra. He is worried that what he has done is create a cycle of kids turning into vigilantes... or in the case of the young man, criminals."

Shaking his head sadly Alfred said, "Bruce has his whole life dedicated to the idea that no one should go through what he did... or become like him."

Fox sat still in his chair with a sympathetic expression on his face. Reaching over to the tray of drinks Alfred had brought, he poured a little brandy, one for himself and another for Alfred. Passing one to the kind butler, he raised his glass and downed the brandy in one shot.

Alfred followed suit which made Fox feel a little proud. It had taken years before he had broken the dedicated butler to break his professionalism and have a drink with him. Maybe because of how he was raised, his father was a landscaper and his mother a maid, but Fox never felt comfortable with the idea of a butler or manservant waiting on him. Which is why he took great amusement in breaking Alfred from his professionalism into sharing a drink with him when he was around. A feat he thought proudly, even Bruce had yet to fully achieve.

Setting his now-empty glass down, he gave Alfred a kind smile, "Bruce is lucky to have you, he is lucky to have someone worry for him like you do."

Straightening his brown suit and his bowtie Fox said, "I think Bruce is a strong man with iron-clad convictions. It makes him able to do what he does every night. But pile on the years of stress and worry and even the best of men can falter."

At this point, Fox leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands brought together near his chin, "Be patient and let him overcome this. He has done it before and with worse things."

Fox leaned back in his chair, glancing up his smile widened, "Isn't that right Mr. Wayne?"

Alfred immediately stood to attention and turned around to be greeted by the master of the house.

Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway with simple slacks and a light blue polo shirt. This was his casual wear, the type for lazying about or when he would go golf with the mayor. His black hair was trimmed closely but left with enough for him to sweep back over his head in a fashionable way.

Smiling Bruce said, "Thank you, Alfred." His tone was polite, but his inflection seemed to convey a message of sincerest gratitude to his closest friend.

Alfred had returned to being the pristine butler that he typically maintains, but Fox could tell he was touched by the message.

Bowing slightly to Bruce he asked, "Will there be anything else sir?"

Bruce both sighed and laughed at that, looking over to Fox he grumbled, "How are you able to break him from his butler routine so easily?"

Fox laughed in response, "Well when you get to our age Mr. Wayne then you will understand exactly how we are able to do what we do."

Bruce just shook his head in disbelief, "No that will be all Alfred... you old grump."

Alfred's mouth twitched almost like a smile. Bowing again to Fox, Alfred walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

Bruce walked over to sit in the leather chair across from Fox, leaning back into the chair he closed his eyes and gave a groan of contentment. A good chair after all was a pleasure hard to beat for anyone. And for Bruce, it seemed like a godsend. While to the typical looker Bruce Wayne looked well-kept and energetic, Fox had grown to know him better than that. He looked exhausted.

"Busy nights?" Fox remarked.

Keeping his eyes closed Bruce merely grunted.

"Hmmm," Fox said while reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a manila folder which he set on the table.

Bruce continued to relax in his chair resting his eyes, "I hope you were able to dig up something?"

Fox shrugged, "If by something you mean some old heavily redacted U.S. Army records that are rough copies of the original files then yes."

Gesturing to the file, "I won't lie, digging up records from over 80 years ago was both easier and harder than expected. Those files were easy to find but there are so few of them and so redacted I doubt you will find anything of worth."

Bruce opened his eyes at that, before grabbing the file and perusing the few documents it contained. Fox was correct, the files barely had anything left that wasn't redacted, it certainly had no names, dates, or any useful information.

He kept reading the file, seemingly trying to glean some sort of clue to a mystery Fox was oblivious to.

"Are you sure the original documents or non-redacted versions don't exist?" Bruce asked.

Fox shook his head, "I tried with everyone I could, even some of the NSA contacts we have. If there is one it is buried so deep in some black site warehouse I doubt they even know they still have it. I could always try reaching out to some contacts in Israel or Germany, but considering the sensitive nature I doubt they are too eager to dig up the past."

Sighing Bruce put the file down and rubbed his eyes, "Let's hold off on that for the time being. It was a potential lead if however unlikely I wanted to dig into."

Fox continued to stare at Bruce, "I don't suppose you are going to explain why you had me spend time looking for this will you?"

Looking past Fox, Bruce took a pensive look, pondering how best to respond to him. "The kid..." he began before clearing his throat, "The kid that was at the bridge, seemed familiar for some reason. He had abilities that were similar to a story I was made aware of in my travels before I returned to Gotham..."

Giving Fox a pointed look, "Before I became Batman..."

Fox straightened up, Bruce had never talked much about his time before he returned to Gotham. Where he had been or what he had done. Based on what he had seen though, it could not have been a vacation. No one disappears for a few years from vacation and becomes Batman.

"Before..." Bruce began, "I met many masters of various arts and skills that helped me prepare to put on the mask. One of them let's say was not the best when it came to morality, but he was a great master in martial arts and other skills that were essential for me to learn."

Fox hummed in interest, "Sounds like a... interesting person."

Batman nodded, "A polite way to put it, considering he runs one of the world's oldest assassin orders. Either way the 'Demons Head' as he is known is one of the most dangerous individuals in the world, certainly one of the most dangerous I have ever met."

"How does he factor into this?" Fox asked.

"For all his faults," Bruce said, "I have to admire that he was absolutely fearless, in his mind no one could threaten him. No one would dare out of fear of his retaliation, perhaps arrogant but not wrong by any means."

Bruce stood up and began to fidget uncomfortably, "During my training, he told me a story. Of his encounter with something he had never before experienced in his life... terror. Years ago he met a man who instilled absolute terror into him."

Fox listened with rapt attention, some pieces began falling in place of why Bruce wanted the old files.

Standing now at the window overlooking the manor grounds Bruce spoke softly, "For someone like him to be terrified is something I need to make note of... the kid from the bridge. He matched a few of the descriptions that the 'Demon Head' had spoken of. Perhaps it is a coincidence... or perhaps not."

Fox stood up from his chair, distracted by what Bruce was saying, he paid his old tired joints no mind as he stood by his side at the window.

Hesitantly Fox said, "You don't think that kid on the bridge is this so-called 'terror' do you?"

"No," Bruce said confidently, "But my instinct tells me there is a connection of some sort. Though I could also be wrong. There is no evidence, and it could really be mere coincidence... and perhaps guilt."

Fox gave his young friend a sad glance, ever the detective, he was willing to acknowledge his guilt may be making him try to find connections there were not.

'I suppose it's good he is addressing that he feels guilty.' Fox thought.

Putting a hand on his shoulder Fox softly said, "You are not at fault for what happened with the young man."

Silence reined for a few moments.

"We never did find a body..."

Fox looked at him with surprise, "What?"

A stiffening of his shoulders and narrowing of his eyes saw Bruce looking more like his counterpart than the playboy he played for the masses.

"The body was not found in the rubble, neither was it found at the bottom of the cliff. Gordon seems to think it got swept out to sea and it maybe is lost or will show up on some shore in a few weeks. But still, we do not have a body." Bruce said firmly.

Fox's brows furrowed, "You are not suggesting he is alive still are you?"

"Based on what we know... no, he could not have survived," Bruce hesitantly said, "But it cannot be ruled out completely till his body is found."

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*Bruce Wayne, Wayne Manor

Fox soon left after that, their conversation had diverted from what they had been speaking about to the upcoming quarterly report for the company and a few new gadget modifications.

Bruce had gone back to sitting in the chair. He would not go out tonight but instead, rest. Batgirl and Robin could cover for at least one night, and he really needed to be prepared for tomorrow's company meetings.

Picking up the less-than-useful file on the table, he intended to scan it and upload it to the Batcomputer before calling it quits for the day. Glancing at it, he saw the familiar historical symbol that anyone would recognize, emblazoned at the top middle of the letterhead, it was a strong reminder of man's ability for great evil.

Looking lower he re-read the sub-title one of the few things not redacted, "Ahnenerbe..." he whispered.

"What are you?"