Everyone thought that Bruce would go black [Comprehensive British and American]

This is New York, it is the city of hope, and every day all kinds of people come to New York with hope.

This is the brightest and most precious pearl of the United States. It is open and inclusive, and the ancient and the new coexist.

Bruce and Steve wandered the streets of New York, they wandered aimlessly in the streets.

Steve turned his head, and he smiled at Bruce: "Feeling lighter?"

Bruce ignores Steve, he kicks his right foot, and when he leaves Gotham, his mood stays weirdly high.

Bruce felt that he had been released from the cage. In New York, he didn't have to worry about someone following him trying to capture something, and there were no endless streams of people coming over to look at him with pity, and sighing insincerely: "It's too bad, but what does it matter?"

He was fed up with those "old acquaintances", fed up with the oppression of Gotham, fed up with everyone in that big house looking at him in a way that you shouldn't be like this.

He knew they were denying themselves, that they wanted to see someone else.

Gotham and Metropolis are very close to New York. They are separated by a river and defend New York. This is the second time Bruce has come to New York since he can remember. The last time he was involved in a bomb attack at a loss, what followed was All kinds of messy people and things, this time he can finally unload all the burdens and take a closer look at this city loved by everyone.

"Do you like it here?" Bruce asked.

Steve looked at Bruce, his eyes sparkled, "Yeah, I like it here, here I am just Steve Rogers, not some Captain America, some symbol of government and hope."

"You're Captain America?" Bruce opened his blue eyes wide.

"Now is Captain America introducing me to New York?"

Steve looked at him with a smile: "Come on, Bruce, you already know who I am."

Bruce raised the corner of his mouth, "How do you know?"

Steve didn't answer Bruce, he looked up at the sky, the sun was a little dazzling, he raised his hand to cover his forehead, and said to himself: "I like it here, everyone in New York has their own things to do Do it, they won't care about anything else, even if you dress up like a comic book character, they will be lazy to pay you a little attention."

Bruce nodded in agreement, "Respect freedom."

He laughed out loud, and Steve looked at Bruce helplessly, "Yeah... respect for freedom."

He couldn't help muttering: "It's really strange for me to say that."

"Captain, you are already the embodiment of the American spirit, what could be more ridiculous than this?"

Steve laughed, his teeth bared, and he stretched his arms lazily.

"I never thought I'd see this day."

Bruce stretched out his hand pretending to be serious, with a smile he couldn't hide: "Have you thought about where to take me?"

Steve thought for a while, "I want you to fall in love with this city."

He grabbed Bruce's wrist abruptly, and ran briskly on the cobblestone road, "I think we can take you to touch this city."

"Okay!" Bruce answered Steve loudly. They ran through those neat and tidy streets full of expensive and high-tech. Walking with Bruce in some old alleys.

"Slow...slower." Bruce was a little out of breath, but his eyes were shining.

Steve looked at Bruce with admiration, "You have good physical strength."

Bruce put his hands on his knees, looked up with a smile, "I don't think these places have changed."

He licked his chapped lips, and the strenuous exercise had consumed some of his body's water, which made him feel a little thirsty.

Steve sat lightly on a railing, which was not too high, and they surrounded several old small houses.

He said in a nostalgic tone: "Yeah... When I woke up, everything changed, but this era is not so bad, not to mention, these old guys are still there."

He stroked the iron railing gently, "They haven't changed."

Bruce imitated Steve's movements, supported himself with his hands in a decent manner, and sat on it.

He smirked and leaned against Steve, who looked down at the top of Bruce's hair with a smile on his face.

"It's so sunny," he sighed.

He was bathed in the dazzling light, smiling beautifully, the air was a little dry, exuding a warm smell, the hour bell just rang, and the sound of pigeons fluttering and flying could be heard in the distance, and there was no trace of the blue sky. A cloud, a soft feather blown by the breeze, hangs in Steve's blond hair.

Bruce swayed his calves carelessly, his sense of balance was excellent, and he looked at Steve's beautiful side profile, his thoughts surging.

Bruce leaned sideways restlessly.

"Steve," he said hoarsely.

"Huh?" Steve tilted his head slightly when he heard Bruce calling him.

He felt his cheek touch a piece of softness, brushed lightly like cotton candy, Steve froze for a moment, and laughed dumbly.

He looked at Bruce with an inexplicable smile in his eyes, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." Bruce raised the white feather in his hand, "I just want to help you take this down."

He licked his lips.

Steve's eyes shifted from Bruce's blue eyes to his lips, and he noticed that Bruce's lips were chapped.

"I know there is a delicious ice cream shop nearby, would you like to try it?"

He smiled and offered the invitation, and when Bruce came to his senses, there was no one around.

"I'd love to." He held out his hand to Steve reservedly, and Steve pulled him down with a smile.

"I have a friend who also likes ice cream. I tried many ice creams before and finally found the best one."

"Have you told your friends about the store?"

Bruce shook his head, "I don't remember."

There was a trace of regret in his heart, he felt that he did not send this gift.

"It's okay, the restaurant I said will taste better." Steve noticed that Bruce's mood became a little depressed, and he led Bruce through some winding paths.

"Here we are." It was an ice cream truck. The blue calico was washed a little white. The car was not big, and it didn't have the fancy machines like the current ice cream trucks. There were only two large buckets there.

"The taste of their family has never changed."

Steve walked over with ease, "I want two balls, one of each flavor."

Bruce watched curiously as the old boss dug out two round ice cream balls slowly.

Steve took the ice cream and handed it to Bruce, "Try it?"

Bruce cautiously stuck out the tip of his tongue and licked it, "Sweet," he commented.

Steve blinked, and continued to say to the boss, "Two more ice creams."

"okay."

The boss handed the ice cream to Steve, "You look like someone I used to know."

"Really?" Steve took a big bite of the ice cream ball, and the boss looked him up and down.

"Yeah, the guy I know likes to take that first bite when he eats ice cream."

The boss shook his head reminiscently, "It's a pity he never came back."

They left the ice cream truck together, and after walking for a while, Bruce said abruptly, "The person he just said he knows is you, right?"

Steve took a deep breath, "Yes."

"I used to live here. At that time, I was a thin and small man. The boss was a few years younger than me. In order to earn some money to support the family, I took care of him for a while."

"It was his father who sold the ice cream at that time." Steve took another bite of the ice cream ball and added lightly.

"But now he has gray hair, but you are still young."

It's so strange, Captain America has such magic power. He crossed the torrent of time, but he still carried the unique imprint of that old era. Time flies and life changes. When everyone has forgotten that era, there is a person Carrying those beautiful emotions of those years, quietly spent more than 70 years.

Steve laughed. "I'm in my 90s, Bruce. I'm not a young man anymore."

Bruce nodded noncommittally. He noticed that Steve didn't eat any more after eating the first ice cream, which made him a little surprised. "Why did you buy two?"

Steve looked at Bruce softly, blue eyes that could melt the hardest heart in the world.

"This store is very interesting. The boss sells two balls and two balls, but most people want to eat more satisfactorily, and they often eat three balls."

Bruce nodded, "Yes, it's delicious."

"So I want to buy an extra ice cream and share it with you," Steve replied.

They happily shared the ice cream, "Thank you, Steve." Bruce said seriously.

"Thank you for being willing to accompany me through this terrible day."

"I have a place I want to go." With a gentle expression on his face, he gently tugged on Steve's sleeve.

"Let us remember the years we have passed, love, and time." Bruce whispered, looking at Steve with a complicated expression, he raised a nice smile.

"I didn't expect you to bring me here," Steve said.

His expression looked a little subtle, "Captain America Memorial?" Steve shook his head and laughed dumbfounded.

"I didn't spend those years with them."

Steve's fingers touched the glass gently, behind the glass was a photo of his old friend.

"I think you'd like to see these good times." Bruce pointed, "Besides, I want to know you better." It's my best friend Bucky, Barnes Buchanan."

"I... I lost him in the last couple of moves, I couldn't catch him."

Several images flashed through Bruce's mind like lightning and flint. There were different hands in the images, and there was also a consistent hand.

The black-gloved hand with the sharp claws was always grabbing something, but it never caught.

Bruce listened in silence, his smile remained the same, but lost a bit of sweetness.

"He used to be such a good guy, and all the girls loved her." Steve said nostalgicly, the people in the glass cabinet were as in memory, talking and laughing.

Bruce put his hand over Steve's eyes, "That's not what I wanted to come for."

"How?" Steve let Bruce cover his eyes.

"It's raining in your eyes, and I was expecting to see sunshine." Bruce's hand slipped slowly, and he wiped the skin under Steve's eyes with his thumb.

Steve's eyes rolled slowly, "I'm used to it."

He stood beside Bruce, looking peacefully at the photo of his dead best friend, "Bruce, I have long accepted that they have left me."

"They're heroes, Steve, and so are you."

"It's so strange. When I saw them here, I didn't even have a sense of reality. Who are the saints introduced in those expansion packs?"

Steve turned to look at Bruce.

"I still remember that Bucky didn't like to wear thick clothes in winter, so I had to force him to wear them like an old mother. Once we were on a mission outside, Bucky wore very little, and he was shivering from the cold. .”

"Then? Did you give him your coat?"

Steve blinked with a reminiscing look on his face.

"No, I didn't give it to him."

"Poor Sergeant Barnes," Bruce quipped.

"We terminated that mission directly, I think Bucky must dress warmer." Steve's mouth curled into a sly smile.

"Oh……"

Didn't expect you to be such a Captain America.

Steve went around the venue and introduced to Bruce the items in the venue, which battle the cannonball was a spoil of war, and what kind of story the person in the photo had with himself.

"You're not that photo in the history book, Steve."

Bruce rubbed his eyes, he felt sand in his eyes, "I hope I can replace them and create some new memories with you."

Steve ruffled Bruce's hair.

"I am alien to this world because I have been separated from it by 70 years."

Steve paused, but he continued firmly.

"Then why are you? Bruce, why are you so strange to this world?"

Bruce considered carefully, he didn't want to use the excuse of amnesia to fool Steve. It is true that he lost all his memories, but for him, the world was covered with a transparent glass film, and he felt lonely and lonely all the time.

"I guess... I have no home here."

Steve lowered his head and looked at Bruce solemnly: "We don't exist because of our destination, but because we exist, we have a destination."

Bruce lowered his head, trying to force a smile.

"I see."

As they left the memorial, Steve's cell phone rang.

"Will it work?" Bruce teased, "I thought you were the kind of person who just carried around a little notebook."

Steve sighed. "Work needs it."

"Even Captain America becomes a social animal in this day and age." Bruce leaned back exaggeratedly.

"But I don't have to."

Steve shook his head and sighed, and smiled wryly, "I'm going to be in trouble."

He pressed off the beeping cell phone, looked down at Bruce, and sincerely apologized.

"I have some urgent matters, would you like to stay with my friend for a while?"

"Your friend?"

"Uh...Tony Stark, maybe you've heard of him."

Bruce rubbed his nose. "I thought I could help you with your work, S.H.I.E.L.D.? Huh?"

"You know S.H.I.E.L.D.? It's a secret agency."

"He orders billions of arms from the Wayne Group every year, and they are my big customers."

"No, Bruce, this is not a joke. My job is always to meet some not-so-nice people."

"I thought I'd seen enough malice."

"That's just pediatrics." Steve looked serious, "You should pay more attention to your own safety."

Bruce nodded helplessly and agreed, "Go ahead, I have a good relationship with Tony, I can ask his driver to pick me up."

Steve looked at Bruce worriedly, "You must call."

Steve saw that Bruce was a stubborn person, and he also had a deep self-destructive tendency. He always closed himself, trying to keep all good intentions out.

He's worried that Bruce's going to make a fool of himself, and then sit alone on the streets of New York like a stray cat.

Bruce could really do something like this.

However, the affairs of S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot be delayed. If it is delayed, someone will pay the price with their lives. Steve still rode a motorcycle to S.H.I.E.L.D., but he was careful this time.

"Tony?"

"I need you to do me a favor and keep an eye on Bruce, I'm worried about him."

"When did you meet Bruce again..." Steve hung up the phone before Tony could finish.

He threw the phone on the table in dissatisfaction, "Jarvis, find Bruce Wayne."

He immediately added: "The location is limited to New York."

"Sorry, sir, I didn't find Mr. Wayne." Jarvis replied calmly.

"what--?"

Tony couldn't sit still now, he recalled Bruce with dark green eyes, with a hint of madness in his nervousness.

"Keep looking." He ordered.

Bruce did not violate his agreement with Steve, he really stood honestly on the streets of New York this time, planning to wait for Tony to come and pick him up.

There was a sudden burst of car horns not far away, and people ran in all directions. Just when Bruce stood up curiously, wanting to see what happened, a black car full of bullet holes rammed towards him.

He seemed to have taken root under his feet, and he remained motionless, watching the car rush towards him attracting huge firepower.

He knew he could dodge it, it wasn't difficult, he had even calculated a route to avoid the car in his head.

But he closed his eyes, he chose to stand there.

The clown who had been following him let out another ugly laugh.

"You think it's okay if you die, Bruce? You'll never escape!"

He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to come, but he felt his body lighten, his whole body soared into the air, and the surrounding area even became blurred because of his too fast speed.

"Why do people keep blocking me?" he can't help but sigh, as the man above him babbles.

"Free and beautiful every day, can't these guys give Spider-Man a vacation?"

"Hey... how are you feeling? You may be a little dizzy, but I'll put you right away..."

Peter looked down, and he saw Bruce's blue eyes staring at him without blinking.

Bruce greeted Peter with a smile: "Hi, Spider-Man."

"...on the ground..." Peter swallowed hard, he was startled, which made his spider thread lose its aim and brushed past the edge of the building.

Without the support of the elastic spider silk, Peter and Bruce plummeted.

"Oh...that's not good." Peter shot out the spider web quickly, and when Bruce was only an inch away from the ground, they bounced again.

Bruce waved his hand leisurely, "Do you want to take me to your spider castle?"

"What?... No! I don't have a messy castle, you're the one with the castle, okay?"

Peter spoke quickly.

"Of course I do, Mr. Parker."

Bruce said the word silently, slowing down viciously so that Peter could see his lips clearly.

"……How did you know?"

Peter shoots another thread at Bruce, this time at Bruce's flailing arm, and yes, he does it on purpose.

"You're so stingy." Bruce stopped laughing, he put his hands down wearily, curled up in a ball unhappy, and stayed still.

Peter knew it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't see the beautiful young man losing his spirit and curling up in a ball, which made the little spider feel a little bit uneasy.

"Mr. Wayne?"

Peter tore off the spider web in his hand, stuck between two trees, turned somersault deftly, and jumped down from the tree lightly.

Bruce lifts his eyelids to look at Peter, his elbows trapped together, immobilizing him.

"Are you here to apologize? It's late, I have to tell you that I won't forgive you..." The beautifully shaped lips opened and closed, and Peter could vaguely see Bruce's tongue looming behind the white teeth.

How could there be such bad people in the world?Peter couldn't help feeling suffocated, and behind the mask, he opened his big brown eyes.

"What? Are you surprised?"

Spider-Man's mask is specially made, and the big white eyes on the mask can clearly reflect Peter's emotions.

Peter stood in front of Bruce awkwardly, he wanted to say something: "Mr. Wayne..."

He tried to lower his voice and speak in a hoarse voice.

"Cough...how do you know who I am?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows in disdain, with a delicate expression: "You know I'm from Gotham, right?"

"What? Oh, of course I know that." Peter would say some meaningless words when he was nervous.

"so what?"

"Then you should know that imitating Batman is useless, right?"

"Uh... I thought I imitated it well?"

Bruce sighed, and he moved his bound arms, "Why do I look like this every time I see you?"

"You insect guys like to play this kind of bad bondage...you are still a young man, why do you think about these bad things all day?"

"What? I don't! I'm not!" The poor little spider was dumbfounded, and didn't know what to say for a while, so he could only stand where he was and wave his hands repeatedly.

"Then why are you hanging on to me?"

"Oh." Peter suddenly came to his senses, he stepped forward obediently, and tore off the spider silk from Bruce's body.

Bruce moved his somewhat stiff hands and feet. Seeing Peter fidgeting, he felt a little pity from the bottom of his heart.

"Don't worry, Mr. Parker, the Wayne Group can survive in Gotham for so many years, there must be some way to save their lives." Bruce avoided the important and found an excuse that sounded decent.

In fact, this time was different from Gotham. The moment Bruce saw Peter, the name of Spider-Man automatically appeared in his mind, and what appeared with the name was a man with brown hair and wearing a spider suit. Boy, distraught, holding a girl.

All kinds of huge gears were scattered around them. It was the inside of a clock tower, and the pointer slammed down beside them with a dangling sound.

The boy was unmoved, he seemed to lose the meaning of life at that moment.

He wailed in pain, tears pattering on the girl's face.

But the girl's eyes were closed and there was no response, she had stopped breathing.

Bruce looked at this immature young man, his heart softened, and he continued to bring up the last topic.

"Peter, I said Wayne Group wanted to fund you, but you didn't contact us."

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but Bruce stopped him.

"Listen, young man, and be polite."

He took a breath, "What have you lost? Teacher? Family? Friends? As far as I know, your uncle died tragically at gunpoint, and that is the source of your becoming Spider-Man."

Peter was astonished, but Bruce had already figured him out, so there was no point in keeping it a secret.

He nodded.

"What about after that? You will keep losing. You have incredible power, but even Superman can't undo the tragedy that happened to him, let alone you?"

"Please let me help you. I'm serious. I don't have any random thoughts. I know you have guessed a lot, but I'm not interested in little boys like you. I like older ones."

Bruce spoke quickly, crackled, and then sat on the ground with the help of a tree.

"do you understand?"

Peter was extremely embarrassed. He felt this way every time he faced Bruce. In his opinion, Bruce was like a young man waving banknotes and ignorant of the world. Son...but his beauty and wealth make him forgiven by all.

He has some prejudices against Bruce. The public impression of Bruce is not very good. Before he met Bruce, he had heard a lot about the affairs of the Wayne family... At that time, he thought it was too exaggerated, but every time he saw Bruce , Those rumors are solid.

Would such a person really keep his identity a secret?

Peter was uneasy. He had imagined a lot of bad situations, and his identity was exposed... NYPD issued a warrant... Aunt May sat in front of the fireplace and stared at the flames, weeping... Gwen walked in the room anxiously go to...

And Harry...

He rejected Harry's request to collect Spider-Man's blood. Dr. Conners had given him too much shock before. Peter couldn't imagine that such an amiable person would become such a monster because of the injection of lizard serum. Harry would be like that too...

Ferocious, ferocious, the appearance of doing all kinds of evil.

He didn't leave immediately after rejecting Harry, but absorbed himself on the outer wall of the Osborne Building, quietly listening to Harry screaming and smashing things in the room, Peter felt a sharp knife directly stabbing his stomach , He leaned out of the window powerlessly, begging to God, give him more time, so that he can synthesize the potion for curing Harry's genetic disease.

He was a coward, he didn't dare to see that friend who was good to him again, but when he was on patrol, he timidly lay on the roof opposite the Osborne Building, and secretly took a look at how Harry was doing.

Bruce looked at Peter listlessly. He knew that it would be very difficult to persuade Peter. He felt a little powerless. It was a feeling of powerlessness that could not stop the established fate and could only watch the tragedy happen. .

Bruce looked at Peter, hesitated to speak, Peter said: "I really appreciate your kindness, but I really don't need it."

Bruce lowered his head and stood up on the ground. He patted the dust off his pants.

"In this case... But Peter, I hope you can be more frank with your friends. They will choose not to explore your secrets because of trust, but they will be deeply stabbed by your secrets because of trust."

"You know what Harry Osborn is like."

Bruce said calmly.

Peter was startled, Bruce was right, he thought he was good to Harry from his own point of view, but he didn't even give Harry a chance to communicate, and Harry's paranoid character might really push him to a corner inside.

When he got back, maybe he could have a frank chat with Harry, and Harry would keep it a secret.

Peter secretly made a plan.

"Oh...Okay, I see, Mr. Wayne, I will seriously consider it." Peter's voice was soft, but Bruce heard that Peter did not perfunctory him this time.

He nodded in satisfaction, "I can get Tony to pay attention to this kid..." Bruce thought to himself.

"you can go now."

"No, Mr. Wayne, I can't leave you in the woods, I have to be responsible for your safety..."

"Get out of here, boy, I want to be alone for a while, and the rich have the power too, okay?" Bruce became more and more mean, and now he just wanted to drive Peter away.

"Someone will come to me, don't you think Bruce Wayne will survive alone in the wilderness in the woods?"

Peter took two steps hesitantly, and seeing Bruce waved at him impatiently, he finally chose to leave.

After Peter left, Bruce sat down again. He watched the winding river in front of him rushing and jumping all the way to the distance. He lay slowly on the ground, the sunlight was cut into pieces by the leaves, and the pattering Sprinkled on Bruce's face.

The bright color made Bruce's face less pale.

Feeling sad for no reason, Bruce closed his eyes and listened quietly to the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew through the trees.

"It's cold." Bruce thought.

When Bruce was alone, he felt tired to the bone, he was so tired that he couldn't even draw the corners of his mouth, let alone anything else?

A wave of drowsiness hit him, he didn't use his willpower to fight against the drowsiness, but submissively eased his breathing, and just fell asleep lying down in the cold mud.

In the dream, he was crushed by countless corpses, making him unable to move. He desperately stretched out his hand to the blood-colored sky, but only the falling corpses responded to him.

He felt he was falling—

Beneath him is an endless abyss——

"Woof—"

Bruce was awakened by a familiar bark.

He felt a weight on his chest, "No wonder I've been having nightmares," Bruce thought.

He reluctantly opened his eyes a crack, and the familiar golden color came into view.

He turned slightly sideways, letting the little golden retriever on his chest slide down the fabric.

"How will you be here?"

Bruce said to himself: "You should be in the manor, but you are here now... did you sneak out?"

Bruce stretched out his hand unceremoniously, and with a little strength, pulled the little golden retriever's ears. The little golden retriever shook his head guiltyly, but then realized that he had nothing to be guilty of.

Bruce has this kind of magical ability. He always looks arrogant and righteous, which will make others reflect on themselves in the first place, and ignore Bruce's willful behavior.

The little golden retriever gritted his teeth in displeasure, he backed up hard, jumped high and hit Bruce.

"Hey! You have to be obedient! I haven't pursued the matter of you running away from home yet!" Bruce stroked the soft hair of the little golden retriever. Al's body temperature was much higher than that of Bruce who had been frozen in the wild for several hours.

"It feels good." Bruce came to a conclusion. This warm and comfortable feeling made him a little addicted. He sat up, turned the little golden retriever viciously, and buried its beautiful face in the small Inside the golden retriever's soft belly.

The little golden retriever froze, and if Bruce had paid attention, he would have noticed Al's tail stuck straight between his legs, as if in great shock.

Bruce rubbed the little golden retriever's belly, nodded in satisfaction, and mercifully turned Al over.

Al is like a beautifully made plush dog at the beck and call of Bruce.

But it snorts, like it's telling Bruce it's just this one time, and next time it won't let Bruce have his way.

Bruce tucked his hands under the little golden retriever's belly, where it was soft and warm, and Bruce stretched out his fingers comfortably, imprinted by this strange touch.

Al moved with some discomfort, blinked his eyes humanely, and lay quietly on Bruce's lap again, allowing Bruce to treat himself as a furry heater.

They just did it in silence, two little birds standing on a branch above their heads, looking up at Bruce slightly.

"Wow." Al called, and it was greeting the two little birds, but Bruce didn't pay Al any attention, so he ignored such a fairy-tale scene.

"You're amazing." Suddenly, Al heard Bruce say this, and he raised his head in doubt.

"It's weird..." Bruce continued, "I'm sad and kind of thankful for the fact that I've been reduced to belonging to a golden retriever."

Bruce curled up his knees, and the little golden retriever quickly stretched out its little claws to hook Bruce's clothes.

It stared tenderly at Bruce with those big blue eyes.

"I felt like the destructive desire that had been churning inside me disappeared, and even the messy voices in my head disappeared."

Bruce bit his lip, even if he was alone, it would be extremely difficult for him to dissect his own heart.

But accompanied by the little golden retriever, he managed to say it out: "I've been seeing some ghost things."

Bruce grinned nervously, grabbed one of Al's paws, and pointed ahead to the empty space.

"Look there."

He pinched the little golden retriever's paw unconsciously, which made Al feel a little pain, but it held back.

"There's a painted clown standing there from time to time saying rude things, which makes me want to tear him apart..."

Bruce swallowed the unfinished bloody idea, because the little golden retriever looked at him with a worried look.

"I must be crazy..." he muttered, "Why do I think you can understand what I'm saying?"

He forced a little smile again, pinched the little golden retriever's paw and pointed to his left.

"Look there...I don't know what that is, is he Batman?"

"He's scarier than a clown," Bruce grumbled. "He's been silent, which has given my ears a lot of peace, but he's just standing there, standing there respectfully, and I look at him and just want to Hiding far away... so that he will never find me..."

Bruce's voice got lower and lower, and he curled up a little tighter.

"But he kept following