The Angel of Death

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

It had been about six days since I had first met the Waynes. My ankle was completely healed, since I had given in and taken some ambrosia, which worked pretty quickly. I still had to wear the brace until Alfred gave me the all clear, which was infuriatingly annoying.

I had noticed an increase in the amount of attention the other boys were giving me, which was a little concerning. I knew they suspected something, and the thought that they had teamed up to figure out what it was was worrying.

It was during a more subdued dinner that night that Bruce brought up the matter of a gala he was hosting in a couple days. The other boys all looked at me, and I, who had not been paying attention, made a confused sound through the mouthful of lasagne I was currently sporting.

"It's for the local charities," Bruce repeated for my sake. "I know it's your first event in the public eye, and everyone will be curious. There will be a lot of questions, but stick close to the others."

I swallowed, nodding. Then I gestured at Jason with my fork. "I assume you won't be there, since you're technically dead and all that."

A vein in the older boy's jaw pulsed. "No. I'll be around though."

...↞⇹↠...

"So, what sorts of 'questions' should I be expecting?" I asked Dick as he helped me with my tie. We had all been (except for Jason) forced into suits, and having never worn one before in my life, I was very confused. And uncomfortable.

"Just the usual. The rest of us all went through this, too. They'll ask a lot of things like how you're adjusting, what you find good about the family, that sort of thing. They'll try to get you to admit to a lot of personal things, though. If that ever happens, you don't have to answer them. I'll try and stick by you so you have a getaway if you need."

"Okay." I didn't doubt I would take advantage of that. I wouldn't mind answering questions about 'adjusting to Gotham' or whatever, but as soon as anything tipped into personal questions about my past, then I would need that getaway.

"We should have asked this before, but do you feel comfortable talking to the media?"

I shrugged. I didn't really feel one way or the other about it. On the one hand, publicity seems like a bad idea. There's been no monster attacks so far, and I'm not sure how having my face on TV would change that. But on the other hand, It likely wouldn't affect anything at all and I didn't really see the harm.

"If you ever need to get away, just make some excuse and head out onto the patio, okay? One of us will come find you."

"Sure."

...↞⇹↠...

There were a lot of people here. Somehow, Bruce had managed to fit what seemed like an entire city into the drawing room, which had been cleared of furniture and the walls covered with long drapes and lined with tables set with food and drink.

There were people there from various charities that Bruce supported and media people and people the boys knew from school and people Bruce knew from work and there were just a lot of people.

"You're the newest Wayne, is that correct?" A woman dressed in red asked me, a man in matching wine colours filming with a portable camera behind her.

"It's not official yet," I answered. She raised a sculpted eyebrow and gestured for her cameraman to come closer.

"Why is that? Do you feel uncomfortable here? Do the Wayne's treat you differently because of your skin?"

"Uh...no? The papers are still processing?"