Chapter Text
When Jim was preparing him to meet Jeremiah on the drive over to his bunker, he urged Bruce to try and look past the face that was identical to the man who tried to kill him, and really see the man beneath. He told Bruce over and over how he knows it will be difficult, and how Bruce’s first reaction at seeing Jeremiah will probably be a hiked heart rate and an uncontrollable urge to turn tail and run in the opposite direction, but to push those feelings down and keep in mind that Jeremiah is not his brother.
So, it was surprising to Bruce, when he first laid eyes on the reclusive man, that he found himself thinking that Jeremiah didn’t remind him of Jerome at all. Aside from the obviously shared physical appearance, there was something about Jeremiah’s presence that chased away any similarities he would have to Jerome.
Jeremiah carried with him a prevalent anxiety that was visible in his every move. The hunched posture, the way he took frequent and short sips of his bourbon, how he fiddled with his glasses and shiftily looked around at the group of people that Bruce suspected he felt were invading his home. It was sweet. Charming. A stark contrast to Jerome’s brash manner.
The walls of Jeremiah’s secluded home were covered in blueprints, the tables laden with scale models and tools. Bruce turns to one of them and asks Jeremiah about it. Better to start slow with this man, build a rapport at least, before asking him to leave the comfort of his home to confront his terrifying past, lest Bruce scare him away like a baby deer.
“May I ask you what it is you’ve been working on?” Bruce says. He takes a few steps to slowly circle the contraption on Jeremiah’s desk. It certainly looks interesting.
“Uh, yeah,” Jeremiah says. “It’s a compact electrical engine. It generates power.”
Bruce shakes his head in awe of this man’s genius. “Fascinating,” he says, breathily. “How much power?”
Jeremiah responds by talking about the truly incredible amount of power his creation could provide. Just 2, he had said, could supply power to nearly a quarter of Gotham. Bruce fights the urge to reach out and touch the machine, not quite believing something so powerful was within his grasp.
Bruce’s eyes fluttered up to meet Jeremiah’s, and he felt a warm, fluttery sensation settle in his stomach. Jeremiah is amazing. All of these plans papering the walls, all of these contraptions and machines scattered messily in his maze of a home, a maze that he designed and built himself. All of his intelligence, and he used it to create things that help people, that are good for the environment. Growing up in the environment he did, with the brother he had, and Jeremiah was still good. It brought a small smile to his face. Bruce fought a sudden and overwhelming urge to tell Jeremiah, right then and there, that he felt like he’s been waiting all his life to meet someone like him. He notices then that the LEDs of the overhead lights in the bunker reflect off of Jeremiah’s soft, round glasses, making his pale skin glow like the moon.
Bruce blinks a few times to dislogde these thoughts. It’s not why he’s here. He blames the stuffiness and lack of windows in the underground room for making him lose focus on why he’s meeting Jeremiah in the first place. Besides, he had only just met the man. It would be crazy to say any of this, and as it stood, he was trying to convince Jeremiah to walk to his potential death. So, instead of spilling the frankly embarrassing fondness he is rapidly developing for the man, he simply says, “you have a brilliant mind.”
The speech he gives to Jeremiah afterwards is a whirlwind to Bruce, but it makes Jeremiah give him a quick once-over with those bright eyes of his, making Bruce tingle all over.
“Well said,” Jeremiah compliments, giving Bruce a crooked, but resigned smile, that makes him burst with pride at having caused it.