Chapter Text
“What do you remember?” a voice spoke that brought the man’s attention back.
Instantly, his mind flashed through broken memories. He was at a party. A gala, to be more specific. The annual charity gala Wayne Enterprise threw to help raise money for a variety of charities throughout the city. “The gala.” The man returned his response, his voice strained and barely above a whisper. Soft spoken as if this was the first time he was speaking in months.
“What happened at the gala?” That voice again, though his mind could not focus on where it was coming from. Who it was that was speaking to him. His mind was everywhere but in his present body. Still fogged. Still lost and in pain.
Again, his mind was brought to the past. He was talking to people. Seeing who all he could get to wrap their fingers around their pens to sign a checkbook. It was what he was good at. Convincing people to help for the betterment of the city.
It was a peaceful and fun time. Chattering, drinking, and dancing. The same as every year. Rich people laughing about to one another. Holding more money in their pocket than most could ever even fathom seeing in their life. All were completely unaware of what was about to go down. Not even the man whose whole life was to be a step ahead had an idea of what was happening.
“There was… There was a shatter… Followed by a scream.” The soft-spoken man spoke, feeling his body walk him through his own memory. Trying to unfold missing pieces. Every face he looked at held no face at all. Just a blur, echoed whispers, and panicked breaths. Why was he so lost?
“There was more after. More shatters and screams… People falling.” He tried to recall, but thinking too much about it was only causing more pain to his already sore and scarred body. Still unaware of the changes made to it. The new scars that would never heal over. The new additions that will never go away. “I fell… something must have… no, was… was tampered with. Maybe the drinks.” He sighed.
“What happened after? Do you remember anything after?”
The man hissed at even the memory those words gave him. His visual memory gave nothing more than even more blurs. Brighter and more deadly. His hearing gave him the sounds of people screaming. People he could not help. People he failed. Beyond it was a more twisted sound. Blades… Opera? He remembered hearing opera. “Opera music…. Beyond all the screaming, there was opera music. There was always opera music.”
As he thought more about the physical aspect, he flinched and whined. Tensing at the memory of feeling his body get violated in ways he was still unsure had been altered. “Pain… A constant stabbing… Blades and needles poking away at my back and body.” He hissed in response. The memories alone caused that pain to come and his back to burn in agony.
“Maybe… Maybe we should stop here.” Another voice stepped in. Softer in tone, but still an echo to the man. Still unable to really pinpoint where it was coming from. Though the voice held a lot more worry and pain. The other was mainly anger. Were they angry at him? Had to be. He failed. He let this happen.
“Bruce, you need to rest.” That worried voice came again, and for some reason, he felt the need to listen to it. Feeling his body slip fully out of reality. Not that it was ever completely back yet. He was not even aware that he was sitting in a car.
—---
The two sat in the driver’s seat. One body, but two minds. Half pretty. Half scarred. The men who had found the other in that hell. Though they did not find him soon enough. The things done to the man. They were still completely unsure what all happened. Their mind at the time was to get the man out of there. Get him home. What all happened these last three months, they were still having to wait to see.
When they finally stopped, they were in front of a manor, getting out of the car and moving to where the man was lying. Even asleep, the man looked to be in so much pain. So uncomfortable and unable to find any sort of comfort. They were not even sure how they were going to get the other out of the car.
Despite how much his body had lost weight. His new extension was where most of their issues came into play. It added back that lost weight and so much more. How the man was able to carry that weight and how much he lost. They were unsure about it. Not easily and painlessly, they did know.
“How the hell do we do this?” The scarred half huffed, reaching his hand over and instantly retracting it when Bruce let out a whine at even the slightest touch.
“I don’t know. He’s too heavy to move easily. I don’t want to repeat how we moved him last time.” The unscarred side spoke. Waiting from behind his own eyes while the other kept charge of the body.
“Where the fuck is the alien when you need him?” He huffed after a moment. Not wanting to cause Bruce any more unneeded pain. What they needed was someone who could easily move the man and not worry about the weight. Get him somewhere else fast, since sadly, it seemed any sort of touch brought him pain. There was no way to do this without causing him discomfort, so they needed to at least make it as fast as possible.
“Clark, come to the manor. We-” The unscarred half spoke for them. Not needing to finish his sentence before a gust of wind was felt behind them, and there stood the man in blue.
“Harvey, you found him?” He instantly spoke while moving towards them. The worry was visible in his eyes as he looked at the half-scarred man. When they nodded and looked at the car, he moved over right away.
He could not completely make out what he was looking at. He could see Bruce’s head. Yet something was wrapped around him. He could not make out what it was, though. Going to reach his hand out, but it was grabbed by Harvey. Making him look over again.
“We need to move him fast. We’re not all sure what has happened to him, but that thing around him is a part of him, and he’s in a whole lot of pain.” Harvey explained to the man, hating to see his shock, but he knew it would come. It was confusing, and they were still trying to process it themselves.
“Got it, just tell me where to go,” Clark said to them. Not wanting to touch and hurt Bruce till he knew it was needed to get him moved.
“The living room and by the fireplace. I’m sure he’s cold, and we can’t take him too far. Alfred should be waiting.” The scarred side spoke. Having already sent Alfred a text when they found Bruce, the man would be prepared for what Bruce needed.
When Clark was given his location, he nodded. Moving back over as he started to pick the man up. Instantly hating to hear him whine, hiss, and even wail in pain. Hating to wake him, but he was sure that with the amount of pain, it was hard to stay asleep. It hurt Clark so much to see his friend in this much pain. To know he was causing it. “Shh.. I know, Bruce. Just relax. It won’t be long.” He sighed. Hating when he glanced and saw the double man so scared and hurt for the other.
He did not look long. Being fast to rush where he was needed and set the man gently as he could to the ground. Wanting to inspect him, but he saw the butler rush over, and he knew the man needed something other than the cold, hard ground to sit on. Glancing over when Harv came into the room. “We should get him some mattresses to lie on. Anything to help pad him.” Clark said, happy the man agreed as he rushed to find one.
While the two handled that. Alfred was fast to rush to his boy. Moving in front of him as he helped the man stay seated for now. His state was horrendous. His body wrapped in dirty bandages, drained of muscle, eyes heavy with no actual rest. A body completely changed and in so much pain. Needing a safe and painless rest.
One that he wished he could give the boy, but at the second, he knew they could not. “What did they do to you, my boy?” He sighed while bringing a hand to the boy's cheek, very gently wiping a tear from his pained eyes.
“Al…Dad,” Bruce whined out and leaned more into his embrace. He knew that voice and touch. Able to finally make out the blurred form in front of him. He was home. He was safe. It made him cry more. Wanting to collapse and the weight on his back was only making that need to fall even higher. It was so heavy. So painful. So fresh.
“I’m right here, Bruce. I got you.” Alfred smiled softly at the boy. Feeling his heart ache so much more at hearing those words come from his boy. Knowing they rarely did, but when they did. Oh, how much he knew Bruce meant them. Trying to inspect what he could while the other two were grabbing the stuff. He could tell something horrible had been done. Able to see the slight shine of something attached to his back, but with the fire shining only on the front of Bruce, not blocked by him. It was hard to really make out what it was.
He could see the man had a feeding tube inserted into his stomach. Meaning Bruce either refused to eat or there was no other way to get food in the other. Most likely a mix of both, and it hurt so much more. Who knows what all the other had been through? Sitting there as he comforted him the best he could.
When the boys both returned, Alfred told them to place them by the fire, but still a good way away. Hating when he moved away, the man cried some. “I know, just relax. We’re getting you someplace more comfortable so you can rest.” He sighed softly, happy that quiet the boy some, before he stood up once Harvey came over to help hold him up.
“Clark, if you could lay him on his stomach in the center,” Alfred explained to him, hating to hear Bruce cry out from being touched and moved. Hating, he could do nothing at the moment. Not till the other was laid down and in some way comfortable.
“What the hell did they do to him?” Alfred heard Clark ask, making him finally turn around. He felt his breath get caught in his throat when he saw a pair of long leather-like things lying against the boy's back. They could not be. It made sense, though, and the thought killed him. He needed to get them unfolded. Needed to be sure.
“This is going to hurt, but we need to spread them,” Alfred said softly, placing a gentle hand on Bruce’s head to play with his hair. Happy the boys listened, but doing so made Bruce cry out more. Hating to hear those pained noises echo off the manor walls, but it was needed. He knew Bruce did too. Knew it was why he did not fight back on it. Though the mix of that, possibly because he was too weak to do so, made his heart hurt more. “Almost done, deep breaths, Bruce.” He said softly when they got them spread and, as gently as possible, laid them down along the mattress.
They all sat there in silence and horror once it was finally done. Laid out across the man’s back was a set of giant bat wings. Connecting themselves to the root of the man’s spine. A tail attached to the end, which lay curled up and tensed. How the Fire reflected against the wings, and you could slightly see the veins and shiny leather through them. It was almost a stunning sight if not for the fact of how it got there and the amount of pain it had to be causing the man.
“Are those?” Harvey was the first to speak up after their moments of silence and horror. Wanting to touch and inspect them, but not when they caused his love so much pain. As beautiful as it looked in his eyes. Knowing Bruce was in pain killed him.
“It would seem so, yes.” Alfred sighed, reaching into his bag as he pulled out a few syringes and got to work. Petting Bruce’s hair with one hand before he inserted the first one, feeling bad for the hiss it brought. He knew it would help, though. A nice numbing shot to hopefully ease the pain enough to let him finally rest while they worked.
“Rest, Bruce, you’re home now. You’re going to be okay.” He said softly to the boy, not too sure of his own words. As much as the sight was pretty, he knew this was going to take a toll on Bruce. Even now, who knows what all he had been through during his time missing. What things had been done that were not shown physically on his body?
“Are…are they fully connected?” Harvey spoke again, happy to see that Bruce seemed to start to relax in some way after the first shot. Noticing the tail unraveling, some to lie in a more comfortable position. It was almost cute in a way.
“I’m not sure, but they’re fresh. The scarring around them looks to be about only a few weeks old.” The butler sighed before he looked at Clark. The man was still at a loss for words and just staring at the man lying on the mattress before them. “Clark, could yo-”
“I did.” Clark sighed while he finally looked away from his best friend and to the buttler. “They’re fully fused to his spine by the bone. There are even nerves, blood pumping through them.” The Kryptonian explained. Not even sure how that was possible. There should not be a way to do a thing like this. Whoever did this had to have dwelt with some sort of magic. A transformation this in-depth should not be possible in any way. “Removing them could have fatal results. If we attempted it would make him fully paralyzed. And that’s the least bit of worry we would have. An operation to remove could kill him, as one of the highest risks.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Alfred sighed while he finished with another shot. Happy to see Bruce finally fall asleep as he inspected more. “From what I can see, the wings are fresh like I said. Though his brace from the scarring was removed near the start of his disappearance.” He sighed, hating that meant Bruce was left paralyzed in who knows what sort of hell for nearly two months before these were forced onto him.
Imagining his boy completely helpless and unable to move anything from his back down was horrible. A nightmare he never wanted to think would happen, but it did, and he was unable to do anything. He was here in this manor, while his son was going through a hell he could never even imagine.
“I'm going to slaughter the pig that did this.” Harv’s voice finally came through, a murderous look in his eyes. To know just some of what this thing put his lover through. To know just a little bit and know there was still a good amount they were unaware of. It pissed him off too much. It hurt so much. Glad his men were already on the hunt for it, because there was no way he was going to let that thing get away with what it did to their lover.
“We'll find them, Harv. We'll get them behind-” Clark started.
Though Harv was fast to interrupt. Growling as he shook his head. “I see that pig and I'm putting a bullet right through its fucking head. No coin flip will even be needed.”
“We'll discuss the matter later. At the moment, Bruce is going to need us all. That includes you, too, Harv,” Alfred explained to them both. Looking at Harv and happy to see his expression soften. This was going to be a lot on Bruce. Change how he would look at himself and how people will see him. If anyone would be able to understand what that feeling was like. It was Harvey and Harv. Bruce was going to need them through this whole thing.
“Were there any other survivors?” Clark spoke, looking at the half-scarred man when he asked his question.
Harv sighed. Shaking his head no. “It was a madhouse in there. Bruce is the only thing that was left living in that hell.” He said, starting to explain more about what had happened and what he witnessed.
