Bruce's Little Orphan [John Blake]

Eight Years Later

Brooklyn

"Harvey Dent Day may not be our oldest public holiday, but we're here tonight because it's one of the most important. Harvey Dent's uncompromising stand against organized crime had made Gotham a safer place than it was at the time of his death, eight years ago. This city has seen a historic turn around. No city is without crime, but this city is without organized crime because the Dent Act gave law enforcement teeth in it's fight against the Mob. Now, people are talking about repealing the Dent Act, and to them I say, not on my watch." The Mayor was saying. I stood in the back of the crowd, watching the Harvey Dent Day banquet in the Wayne garden. Even though it had been eight years, I was still getting used to having so many people around. I guess it's just what happens when you get taken it to a rich man's home. "I want to thank the Wayne foundation for holding this event, and I'm told that Mr. Wayne couldn't be here tonight, I'm sure he's with us, in spirit." Bruce actually was here, up in his room like he has been the past eight years. After his love, Rachel's death, he retired from Batman, and hid away, only allowing myself and Alfred to see him. "And now I'm gonna give way to an important voice. . . "

His voice seemed to mute as I turned my attention to the mansion. To my surprise, there stood Bruce, on his balcony, listening to the Mayor's speech.

". . . That people put their faith in a murderous thug in a mask and a cape." I turned my attention back to the Mayor, as he began to speak about Batman, my savior. "And a thug, who showed his true nature, when he betrayed the trust of this great man," He said as he motioned to the portrait of Harvey Dent on either side of him. "And murdered him, in cold blood. Jim Gordon could tell you the truth about Harvey Dent. He could - but I'll let him tell you himself! Commissioner Gordon!"

I watched as the Mayor left the stage, and Commissioner Gordon walked up to the podium.

He look down at his notes, muttering "The truth. . . I have a speech, telling the truth about Harvey Dent. . . Maybe the time isn't right. . . " He said, putting the notes away in his coat. I already knew the truth about Harvey Dent, Bruce told me when I accused him of Dent's murder. Gordon is just too much of a coward to clear Batman's name. So, his stupid little lie grows bigger. "Maybe, right now, all you need to know is that there are one thousand inmates in Black Gate Prison as a direct result of the Dent Act. These are violent criminals, essential cogs in the organized crime machine. Maybe, for now, all I should say about the death of Harvey Dent is this; It has not been for nothing."

I shook my head and walked around to the mansion, going in the find Alfred. I past the kitchen, and found him talking to a woman with brown curled hair.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Tate, I tried, but he won't see you." Alfred was saying as I walked up from behind him.

"You know, you mustn't take it personally. Everyone knows that Wayne's held up in there, with eight inch nails, peeing into mason jars." A man said to the woman. He then turned to Alfred. "It's very good of you to let me on the grounds," He said, walking up to the two, and cutting me off.

"And I'm beginning to question why we did." I said through clenched teeth. I didn't even know this man, but making assumptions about Bruce - I wish I never had to have him in my presence.

He turned to me. "And who's this beauty?"

"Brooklyn Dawson."

"Ah, I've heard of you. The orphan, saved by 'Batman', thrown onto the Wayne Estate for some, unknown reason. . ."

"Come on, Brooklyn," Alfred said, pulling me with him towards the staircase, away from the two.

Once out of earshot of that man, I said to Alfred, "Why do people say that about Bruce? The only thing unkept  is his beard."

"Yes, but you and I are the only ones that have seen him in the past eight years." Alfred said with a smile.

I noticed that he was leading me somewhere. "Where are we going?"

"To see Mr. Wayne, of course."

After weaving our way through the mansion, we ended up on the east wing, walking into Bruce's room. He was looking at his safe closely.

"Ms. Tate was asking to see you again." Alfred called to him as a way of announcing our arrival.

"She's very persistent," Bruce said, not looking up from his safe.

"And quite lovely, if you were wondering," Alfred said, smirking.

"Wasn't," Bruce said.

I looked closer at what he was doing, and got curious. "What are you doing, Bruce?"

"Examining print dust. We've been robbed." Bruce said simply, as if it was no big deal.

"And this is your idea of sounding the alarm, is it?" Alfred said, a bit of amusement in his voice.

Bruce ignored him. "She took the pearls, tracking device and all."

"She?" I asked. How did he know who it was if he hasn't even gotten the fingerprints yet? Did he see her take them?

"One of the maids." He turned to Alfred. "Maybe you should stop letting them in this side of the house."

"Perhaps you should learn to make your own bed, then," Alfred laughed as Bruce slowly stood up and moved past us towards the door. "Why were you dusting for prints?"

"I wasn't, she was."