Chapter Text
A hand clamped down on Bruce Wayne’s neck. The thick drawl of Officer Harvey Dent’s voice sent a shiver down his spine.
“This is gonna haunt you for the rest of your days, boy.”
“I’ve served my time. The records will show that.”
Dent leaned in. His face filled up Bruce’s vision. “It’ll be a mark on your record as long as you walk this Earth.”
Don’t lash out. He’ll drag you back inside for another two years. “I needed food.”
“And then you resisted arrest.” He rested a hand on the gun at his hip. “S’why I had to shoot ya.”
Bruce’s shoulder ached at the memory. A single, circular scar was all that remained from his brush with death. A few inches were the only thing that saved him. And he suspected that had more to do with Dent’s failing eyesight than benevolence on the officer’s part.
“Am I free?”
“You’ll never be free of the moral stain, but from here?” Dent landed a blow to Bruce’s gut. “Don’t forget what’s waiting for you when you screw up again.”
Bruce left the prison letting the humid Georgia air wash over him in a moment of respite. He walked away from the squat cement building. That was the first step to anything. Get away from the hell he’d lived for three years. After that…he was at a loss. Stuck in the same boat that landed him in that cesspool of government corruption.
He’d walked for hours, head ducked under the relentless summer sun. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his skin. At this rate, he was going to pass out from dehydration, then who knew what would happen to him. All he had was his impressively authentic looking ID and that was tied to County Inmate J-24601. To this point in his life, that had been one of the few silver linings of growing up in the perpetually twilit urban hellscape that was Gotham. He’d needed a whole new persona that wouldn’t besmirch everything the Wayne family stood for, and the underground hadn’t disappointed.
He leaned against the sign welcoming visitors to the town. He watched cars pass on their way to unknown locations. Maybe one of them would be kind enough to give him a ride. Though he wasn’t sure who would want to, given the way he looked. His dark hair was long and unkempt, he had a beard now that reached the collar of his shirt. Even his eyes held a steely hardness in the blue depths. If it hadn’t been for the modern clothing, he could have passed for a caveman.
Here goes nothing. He stuck out his thumb as a car approached.
Three vehicles drove past before someone pulled over. An older man rolled down the window. “Where ya headin?”
Bruce hunched his six-foot frame down so he could peer through the opening. “Athens.”
“Well, I’m only goin as far as Fayetteville, but I’ll take you that far.”
“I’d appreciate that sir. Thank you.”
The driver pushed a button and the automatic lock disengaged.
Bruce ducked inside the car.
The old man pulled back into the flow of traffic. “What’s your name, son?”
“Uh, Malone. Madden Malone.” Bruce gave him the name on the ID in his wallet. Not that anyone would believe he was Bruce Wayne, heir to a billion-dollar company. “And you are?”
“Jay Garrick. Pleased to meet you Mr. Malone. What has you hitchhiking?” He pulled onto interstate.
“Getting to know the lay of the land. It seemed like a good idea when I started.” Bruce turned the air conditioning vents on himself.
“It’s hotter ‘n hell out there. Didn’t your folks tell you it was a bad idea to be out in that blisterin heat?”
“I’m from up north, and they were killed when I was nine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. That conversation took a one-eighty into heavy territory.
“Bless your heart, I’m sorry to hear that.” Jay laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Never easy to lose a loved one.”
“No, it’s not.” Especially when they’ve been gunned down in front of you.
A few minutes of silence passed when Jay exited into a frontage road.
“Here’s our town. She’s not the biggest one, but she’s cozy. Say Madden, you got a place to stay for the night?”
“No sir.”
“Well, that settles it. You’re coming home with me. Have a good meal, shower and a place to sleep. Then we’ll get you off to Athens in the morning.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on you.” Bruce held up his hands in protest.
“Nonsense. The missus will be happy to have someone she can feed.” Jay nodded as he turned down a driveway.
An aging yellow farmhouse stood at the end of the dirt path. The windows were lit up with a cozy glow as the evening breeze teased the checkered curtains. Cicadas chirped in the cooling air. The scene painted the perfect picture of small southern town America.
Jay killed the engine. “Let me just go let Joan know we have company.”
Bruce nodded as he exited the vehicle. At least it was cooler now that the sun wasn’t beaming down on him. He could hear Jay talking to Joan inside. He couldn’t hear words, but the tone didn’t sound friendly.
Jay returned a moment later, hands shoved in the pockets of his khaki pants.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let me just say, that Joan can tend to be skeptical when it comes to trustin people. She’s got friends all over this state who let her know who to look out for because they might be dangerous. Now there’s no easy way to put this, but…well son, did you just get out of prison?”
Bruce hung his head. Maybe Dent was right, this would follow him for the rest of his days. “Yes sir.”
“I didn’t want to believe it. You seem like such a nice young man. But she’s not comfortable letting you stay in the house.”
“I understand. Thanks for the ride anyway.” Great now it was night, and he was only 20 minutes closer to Athens.
“If you can promise me you’ll be on your way tomorrow morning, I’ll bring some food out to the barn and let you stay there tonight.”
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers tangled in the knotted locks. “I appreciate it sir. I’ll be off first thing.”
Jay turned to the house. “It’s nothin personal.”
Bruce nodded in understanding. Sure, it wasn’t personal.