Chapter Text
“It’s always more difficult to be away from home than to be in it.”
Richard moved around the small space of his studio, picking up a few clothes he had separated from the laundry and folding them carefully to fit inside the suitcase.
“I know it’s hard to believe. It’s been… How many? Ten years? Everything seems heavier when you put it into perspective.”
The laugh that escaped him was the only thing breaking the silence.
“When I moved out, I convinced myself that I would never go back. Do you remember that one argument with Bruce? He was practically spitting fire because I refused to go to the gala with him. I don’t know if he was angry because I had grown old enough to have my own voice and opinions, or maybe because I opposed what he wanted and his rules.”
With Bruce Wayne, it was never easy to tell where the rules started and ended, or how far they applied to him. But it was unclear if enough time had passed for Bruce to come to the same conclusion. Words exchanged over the last decade have been scarce.
“Maybe we needed this time apart.”
Hunched over, smoothing the wrinkles in his pants, he paused.
“It’s always been more difficult to be away from home than to be in it, but sometimes I wonder if what I really miss are the memories.”
The good ones.
Richard sank into the chair, his gaze lost among the things he hadn’t yet picked up.
After losing his parents at thirteen, it was Bruce who gave him a home when no one else wanted. He provided a quality education and many luxuries Richard had not felt he deserved at the time. He taught Richard to distinguish right from wrong, and even today he felt grateful for all of it. Maybe Bruce was not a man inclined to give lavish compliments, but the boy had felt his paternal love from the earliest years of childhood in other ways.
That’s why the first years after his arrival in Blüdhaven felt both relieving and oppressive. He missed Bruce like a lost boy longing for his father’s approval. At the time of his arrival, at twenty-one years old, he hadn’t been old enough to face the loneliness that awaited him in a city he didn’t know, where the familiar feeling of the streets didn’t exist. Everything felt new, and the faces were completely foreign. Yes, with the passing of the years, he built a whole life; he had partners, best friends, acquaintances, neighbors, coworkers. They brought him joy and sadness. And even so, when he least expected it, he was visited by the memory of Bruce, like the empty space in a puzzle that would eternally remain incomplete, a missing piece.
What was he doing? Did he miss him? Did he want to see him? Hug him?
Life in Blüdhaven was never perfect, and yet, the temptation of leaving it for Gotham made itself felt in his worst moments, and his best ones too. He kept up with Bruce’s life through social media, and thanks to long calls with Alfred.
“I have the hunch that if I go back, I’ll never leave,” his confession was a distant whisper that almost didn’t reach his own ears. “But without tangible proof, every hunch is a baseless fear,” the lines of his face softened as he repeated Alfred’s words aloud.
He kept folding with the efficiency of someone used to living alone. When he finished, he moved the suitcase to line it with the wall. He rubbed his hands over his pants, then looked around. Almost automatically, his gaze landed on a photograph on the shelf.
A soft smile appeared.
“I’m sorry. You were my best friend almost by obligation, always ready to listen to me, to give me advice…” he exhaled. After a few slow steps, he took the picture frame between his fingers. His thumb caressed the image of a tall, slender man with a straight posture and chin held high. At his side was a handsome younger man and a child. There were only those three figures. All of them smiled in different ways, though. “And see me now, trying to find a way to put all these confusing thoughts without head or feet into words.”
Alfred had always helped give them sense. Now he had to do it by himself.
“Anyway, tomorrow morning I’ll go with Wally to get a coffee. Then I’ll say goodbye to Donna. I think she has a couple of tickets for her performance of Moulin Rouge!, where she’ll play Satine. I know she’s capable of getting me back to Blüdhaven if I’m not there to see her tomorrow. I just wanted you to know that I’ll take the night train, that I might be a little late, and that you don’t have to…”
Richard pursed his lips, finally resisting the temptation to keep communicating with a memory.
✦✦✦
Richard was never a fan of Gotham. It was always cold and humid, characterized by a sky perpetually grey, like a heavy hood that only on rare occasions let the warm sunshine pass through.
The common citizen, used to the constant sorrow filling the air, moved through the streets with their head hunched over. They dragged their heavy hearts from their homes to their work, and from their work to their homes, maybe having forgotten the taste of hope— the hope of breaking that mediocre monotony. Something that existed beyond low rents, precarious wages that didn’t let them aspire to something better, away from the sharp criminality on every corner.
Far from the vicious core where people did their best to subsist, the wealthy families had established themselves in the surrounding hills, with triumphant architecture rising like guardians over the city. There weren’t high, crowded buildings, but houses and manors with grey, solemn exteriors. Open lands with statues and gardens that on rainy days looked like something out of fantasy stories.
Gotham was a two-faced coin. And it didn’t matter how he looked at it, it never felt like a truly pleasant experience. And maybe that was the only thing on his mind until the train finally stopped. Once outside, he was surprised to see that Commissioner Gordon was there, waiting for him.
“Boy, you look so tired, even when the journey wasn’t that long!”
Richard dragged his suitcase and only stopped when he received a warm, tight hug.
Gotham was grey, cold, and humid, but there were still citizens who radiated warmth.
“I might not be the best friend of trains,” he shrugged, giving light pats on the old man’s back. The anxiety he felt seemed to soften at times.
If he had to be honest, he never had a close relationship with Jim Gordon. They met because he dated Barbara for a few years, and in fact, the last time they saw each other was on her last birthday. Even though they broke up on amicable terms, Richard convinced her that he needed some distance, and she respected it. In the end, she was the one who put the card of separation on the table. From then until they started talking again last month, he didn’t have many details about their lives. Apparently, Wally let her know about Richard’s plans to move back to Gotham, and that’s when she offered help by driving him on the day he arrived. Who was better suited for that than her father, the commissioner of the city?
“Usually, people feel like that with flights, not with trains. There’s nothing safer than traveling on a train that only goes forward. Nothing could ever harm you there, son.”
Richard thought that the uncertainty he felt wasn’t because of the trip per se, but because of its ending. Still, he didn’t try to explain.
A light bump against one of his shoulders made him realize he had to move, so he grabbed his suitcase and started walking where everyone else was going, careful not to obstruct the way.
“Sorry, sorry—” he heard Gordon saying to other people, waiting behind them. “Would you like to go home? Barbara will be happy to see you.”
“No, it’s okay. We’ll see each other eventually. She must be tired after a long day. It’s late, and I’m embarrassed enough that you had to wait for me when there was a delay in my train. I would’ve understood if I’d had to take a taxi…”
“Don’t worry! Do I look mad? I’ll take you to your… destination. However…”
Once they arrived at the car, they put the luggage in the trunk, and in a matter of seconds, they were driving through the city.
“Barbara was worried. She wanted you to feel welcomed, and even wanted to come as well, but…”
Richard understood. Actually, he didn’t mind, so he only smiled.
After a few minutes talking about their lives, just superficial details, everything settled into a comfortable silence. It’s not like he had anything he wanted to keep from him, or even from Barbara, it was just that there wasn’t anything he needed to add. Or at least, anything they didn’t already know, because they must have read everything in the news or seen it on TV.
Richard was in Gotham because Bruce had disappeared from the public eye last year. Everyone knew that he had secluded himself in Wayne Manor, and only on rare instances he was seen outside. The head of the corporation, built by his grandparents and parents —and himself— was now in the hands of their associates and his young assistant, a brilliant Tim Drake, a name that always came with compliments and recognition. More than that, there wasn’t any relevant information. The mysterious status of the billionaire was only a rumor that surfaced from time to time, which recently was only mentioned in internet forums, or used to make jokes by the entertainment industry.
Some theorized that he had passed away, and that the corporation had kept the news from reaching the public. Others gossiped that he had been bedridden by a strange illness, or even that he wasn’t living in the country. Richard knew there wasn’t that much mystery thanks to the calls with Alfred.
“Can I ask you a question, Richard?”
The aforementioned stopped looking at the streets. They were starting to leave the city, so the buildings were few and far between. From there, the dark sky was only a mantle without stars.
“Why now? You could have come earlier this year. It doesn’t seem like anything has changed in the past months…”
Richard thought of a response in silence.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pleasure seeing you again! But I remember once you told me you were never fond of Gotham.”
And that was the truth. He didn’t like it; it wasn’t a home, as Gordon had said previously, it was a destination.
Why now?
“Do you like solving puzzles? It doesn’t matter how many pieces there are, even when some are missing, we tend to think —or wish— that there are enough of them and that we’ll find their place.”
Jim Gordon slowed down when the path was flanked by tall trees. The only thing cutting through the darkness was the car’s headlights.
“I left Gotham with the idea that I could solve the puzzle of my own life in another city. I didn’t think this city had anything to provide.” He took a deep inhale, the nape of his neck resting against the headrest. But it’s incomplete, he thinks to himself. His puzzle has a lot of empty spaces… and he doesn’t know what to do with them. He doesn’t know if he has to fill them, and for a long time he convinced himself that he had to ignore the feeling. He almost believed he succeeded for a time because he couldn’t have all the answers. He can’t, and this time…
He’s ready to face it.
“I think just recently I realized that we can’t turn our backs on what we once were.”
Once he opened his eyes, the panorama had expanded, and now it was all sky and grass. In the distance, a small structure cut through the firmament. He knew that Wayne Manor looked small from there, but once he got closer, he’d find it imposing enough to take his breath away.
“Embracing your past is part of growing up, isn’t it?”
Gordon didn’t add anything else, and Richard paid no mind.
Once they got in front of the house, the commissioner insisted on taking his phone number.
“You know, you never know when you’ll need it. Also, it's important to have connections and friends in this city. And you’ll always be our family.”
Richard appreciated the intention. After all, he knew that he could always ask for a hand, either from him or Barbara, even though he still acted a little cautious around her.
After leaving Gordon’s car and waving him goodbye, Richard made his way onto the stone driveway outside the mansion.
There, the image that greeted him was so different from the memory still clinging to his mind that his skin prickled slightly. The inability to recognize the woman’s face waiting for him at the entrance helped him remember that the home he had left once probably didn’t exist anymore.
Not that it was a surprise at all. It’s been a year since Alfred, the heart of the manor, passed away.
“Good night, Master Richard,” said the woman, and he recognized her voice from the two times he called. To his surprise, she was clearly young, at least young enough to be younger than him. Judging by her clothes, Richard quickly assumed that she was on her way out. Maybe he was the only one keeping her from leaving that night.
“Good night—” he left a vacancy in the air to be filled with her name. But said name never came.
Solemnly and with some hurry in her movements, she took the suitcase through the doors until she was able to close them behind them. Having followed her inside, he soon found that everything looked the same. The high ceiling was decorated with exotic chandeliers of twisted arms; the red carpeted floor swallowed every sound; the walls were covered in old paintings and pictures of the Wayne ancestors, maintaining those vivid eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere you went.
“I have prepared your room. First floor, right wing, last room.” Her steady glance made him think that, more than a statement, she was looking for confirmation. So Richard nodded. Was she working there when Alfred was still part of the manor? Or had his room been maintained just as he left it ten years ago?
“Thank you for receiving me, I’m aware it’s later than I informed you I would come, but my phone died on the way, and I couldn’t call you...” She made no effort to reply. “And… How many people are working here?”
Richard had turned on his heels, studying the space one last time. When he looked at the woman again, she was already carrying the suitcase up the stairs. Seeing her struggle with the weight, he quickly approached to take it himself.
“My apologies. There are only two of us, but I’m the only one here at this hour.”
He offered an apprehensive smile and kept it until he reached the last step. It was usually like that. Even when he lived there with Bruce and Alfred, there were only a few other employees. Bruce liked to keep everything pretty private.
“Does Bruce usually eat dinner early? I’m getting kind of hungry, but I’m not sure if he did wait—”
“Master Bruce eats alone every day.”
Richard almost stopped in his tracks before reaching the room. Almost.
“Would you like me to bring you dinner? We can also prepare the dining room, but Master Bruce has always advised us to leave early, and…”
For the first time in the last ten minutes, she cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. Richard tried to find anything at the end of the corridor, but it was empty.
“No worries. Just bring it to my room.”
“Master Richard—”
Surprised, as he didn’t have the intention to delay her departure by asking questions, the man stopped before closing the door of his room.
“There are a few rules imposed by Master Bruce. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough time to go through them one by one. However, there is one that you must not forget.” Her eyes refused to leave him. And even so, he did not expect the next words to escape her mouth in a slow rhythm, almost as if she were trying to engrave them in his mind. “Do not open your curtains at night. Do not leave your room. And, most importantly, do not go outside until the sun rises.”
The oxygen he had held in his lungs finally found a way out.
Once again, he offered one last smile while nodding.
It was going to be a long month.