Poker Face | Bruce Wayne

twelve

32 YEARS EARLIER

Meredith awoke to the sound of commotion in her house. She opened her eyes with a soft groan, sloppily rubbing her face with the side of her palms. Her door was cracked halfway open, allowing a sliver of light into her otherwise dark room. No one in her house was ever up in the middle of the night. Was it morning already?

Pushing back the pale pink comforter, she turned over to her gold clock which was illuminated by the light from the hall. Her dad had just started teaching her how to read a roman numerals clock, and while she wasn't a hundred percent sure what time it was, she knew the big arrow was always on the other side of the clock when she woke up.

Meredith noticed a figure rushing by her door. She squinted her eyes and her head felt hazy.

She pushed her feet out of the four-poster bed and shivered when her feet touched the cold hardwood. She slipped on a pair of socks before trailing out the door, hugging her arms around her body for warmth.

There was the sound of people drifting from the stairway. She started walking down the hall. It felt weird to be out at whatever time it was, and not to her usual pancakes and morning cartoons.

Meredith crept down the stairs, holding onto the railing as the sound of voices made their way to her ears. It sounded like someone was crying. She tilted her head, moving a little faster. The air conditioning in the mansion was blasting and almost everywhere was dark. The only other time she'd ever been up so late was on Christmas when Devin had convinced her to come down in the morning and "catch Santa Claus."

The crying and soft whispers sounded like it was coming from the living room closest to the front doors. She made her way to the entrance of the room and noticed two figures that weren't a part of her family.

"Alfred!" she greeted cheerfully, running up to the butler and hugging his leg.

Everyone in the room looked stunned to see her. Instead of Alfred's usual quiet chuckle, he was silent. Meredith pulled back in confusion. He always ruffled her hair or patted her head when he saw her. She studied his face which had a look on it that she'd never seen before.

She turned to her left to see Bruce sitting in her father's lap, his head buried in the older man's shoulder.

"Bruce!" Meredith giggled. Her parents always told her whenever Bruce was coming over, so why was he here at this time of night?

She ran over, putting her hands out for her usual hug from the small boy, but he didn't turn to face her. His body heaved slowly. The smile fell from her face.

"Brooch?"

She finally turned up to see her father biting his lip. She looked around at everyone else in the room— her mother sat on one of the couches with a tear-stained face, an arm around Devin, who stared at her with sullen eyes.

"Wha— what's wrong?" she asked, coming to the realization that this wasn't a normal visit from Bruce and Alfred. The silence in the room was deafening. "Mommy? Are you okay?"

Her mother gazed at her with a horrified look before bursting into tears once again. She doubled over, sobs wracking her body, Devin leaning into her for comfort. Alfred averted his gaze and faced towards the opposite wall.

Meredith turned to her father with worry. "Is mommy hurt? Why is she crying?"

Gregory let out a long sigh, straightening his shoulders from his previous slump. "Meredith, something... bad happened."

Her eyes widened as Bruce finally took his head out of Gregory's shoulder and faced her. There was a little blood down the side of his lip, with splotchy red eyes and pale skin. His usual styled hair was matted to his forehead. She noticed he wore a suit jacket that was way too big for him— it looked like his father's.