_{I.  LIVING LEGACY  /  BRUCE .}

_{^{The heavy door creaks as it opens.   Bruce peers briefly inside before stepping in,   letting it shut loud behind him.   It echoes throughout the old house,   draft from the ajar window slamming it  harder.    He has to stop for a moment,   take in the shadow of his father basking in the moonlight soaking in from drawn curtains,   feeling like he had when Jason had first returned.   This is a ghost story but it isn’t,   it’s his father but it also isn’t.    Not too different than when Jason returned,  then,  Bruce reflects,  tastes the bitterness on his tongue.  Cheap and metallic,  like a greasy coin.}} 

_{^{“Father,”    he says, stiff and erect by the doorway.    Thomas sits in his big chair  –  his father’s then his own.  It surely had not taken long to reclaim this space.  He feels like Damian now,   small and nothing compared to the man sat behind that desk.   “I had a feeling I would find you in here.   I brought some coffee.”}}  

_{^{The tray’s set with a clang on the desk,    coffee pot and porcelain mugs set elegantly beside creamers and sugars.  In that same monotone,  he amends the statement,  readying their cups,   “that is,   if you would like.”}}

_{^{@ptrrchs  !}}

_{it  was  his  bodies  first  reaction  upon  entering  the  manor  once  again  ;  a  place  that ,  until  then ,  had  been  erased  from  his  own  memory .  refusing  to  allow  the  past  to  seep  back  into  his  life .  memories  of  a  life  lost  to  him  /  when  his  wife  &  son  were  his  to  call  his  own .  why  would  one  want  to  torture  themselves ?  unnecessary  &  insane  ;  it  would  not  clog  his  mind  while  the  world  was  crumbling  around  him .  it  no  longer  felt  like  a  place  that  he  could  call  HOME .}  

_{&  yet ,  this  version  of  his  past  feeling  so  familiar  ;  so  true .  what  it  was  meant  to  be .  it  was  hard  for  him  to  accept ,  truthfully  speaking .  but  something  about  it  placed  the  elder  gentleman  at  ease .  as  if  there  was  nothing  to  worry  about .  he  knew  it  was  a  lie  but  there  was  no  reason  to  break  the  illusion  /  at  least ,  not  just  yet .}

_{seeing  his  son  enter  caused  something  within  him  to  jump  ;  still  not  sure  how  it  was  all  possible .  he  could  vastly  remember  the  weight  of  his  little  boy  within  his  arms  /  his  crimson  staining  his  palms  &  the  street  beneath  them .  this  was  a  second  chance  &  it  was  not  one  that  he  would  take  for  granted .}

                                                       _{❛    -              -    thank  you ,  bruce .  ❜  a  shake  of  his  head  would  follow.  amusement  suited  his  features  well .  ❛   you  don’t …  you  don’t  have  to  do  this ,  you  know . you  just… being  here .  ❜  if  only  looked  closely ,  they  might  have  seen  a  grin  of  sorts .  ❛   -          -    that’s  enough .  ❜}