Chapter Text
The air was crisp; each stinging inhale filling Bruce's lungs with the obstinate reality of his languishing city. Watching the thick tendrils of smog billow from his nose to just dissipate into nothing only further reminded him of his failed efforts all those years ago. Every chip, every dent disappeared the instant he hung up the cowl. It was as if he'd never put it on at all. Like he had never existed…
Various technological advancements taunted him, making sure he remembered what forces were really in power, who was on the forefront to halt the city's progression. They acted as poorly wrapped bandages, Gotham's attempt to conceal its rampant crimes that continued to plague its streets. It seemed as if after every news report on a robbery, assault, or domestic attack there was word of a new gadget or building to draw citizens' eyes away from the travesties that surrounded them. Like a dog, they were being trained to ignore their realities and look forward to the occasional treat that would be tossed their way.
A gust of wind blew through and he shivered, shoving his gloved hands deeper into his pockets as he buried his nose further into his scarf. Ace's leash hung loosely around his wrist as the dog walked obediently beside him. Snow crunched with every slightly unsteady step, the sounding causing his jaw to clench and grinding his molars. He could already feel a tension headache building behind his eyes.
Poorly plowed paths left little room to walk. His shoulders bumped into almost every stranger he passed as he made his way through Robinson Park. As the city's infrastructure increased, the small outdoor spaces for citizens to relax slowly diminished — and so did the city's will to upkeep them. He would've brought his cane had he'd known the walkways were shit.
He paused as Ace sniffed a particular spot in what he assumed was snow covered grass. Though with the direction the city was heading, it could've been some new innovation to update the primitive areas within its perimeters.
His gaze trudged over the encompassing cityscape. The city in which he slaved over for years,nitpicking and agonizing over every little detail in his mission to make its streets safe. Despite his preference for isolation seclusion in his old age, he'd occasionally visit his old stomping grounds and ponder over whether his efforts ever really did make a difference. Did he ever inspire reform? Did he ever instill resilience? Did he ever really mean something to this city?
But every time, he'd come back, and without fail, he would witness one petty crime after another. Sometimes he'd even catch a glimpse of a larger, more organized illegal act — maybe something from the Jokerz or the Royal Flush Gang — forced to watch helplessly as he was now just some random face in the crowd. It was as if the city wanted him down, mercilessly barraging him with scenes he so desperately wanted to put a stop until he couldn't bear anymore. It had already forced him to break his moral code and now it was just mocking him as he settled into what he hoped were the last years of his life. The life he never really thought he'd live to see.
Sighing, he looked back to Ace, his eyes tracing over the mutt's silhouette. He was his only companion. The only thing he kept around after he walked away from the others when he hung up his cape. The only thing Bruce deemed worthy of keeping by his side as his once seemingly invincible body slowly decayed into a decrepit shell of what it once was. The only thing that saw him as what he wished himself to still be.
In the midst of his self loathing, something he'd found to be increasingly more frequent, a repetitive shout broke him from his contemplation.
"Sir!"
"Sir!"
"Excuse me, sir!"
Bruce turned to look at the figure lightly jogging toward him clad in a bright yellow winter coat that was a stark contrast to Gotham's naturally dreary aesthetic.
You stopped in front of him, breathing slightly erratic as the cold scraped down your throat and pierced your lungs. "S-sir, you… you dropped this." Holding up your hand, you revealed a hickory brown wallet. You gripped the object precariously — between the pads of your thumb and two first fingers — almost as if the Italian leather burned to touch.
Bruce blanched as recognition slowly settled in as he observed the item in your hand. His wallet. His hand tightened into a fist in his pocket. That was his wallet. His lips thinned as he snatched it from your grasp, hastily shoving it back into his pocket as he grumbled out a "Thanks." He couldn't believe it. The day had finally come where his mind has begun to slip as well.
Completely unfazed by his rather curt attitude, your gaze shifted down to the large and vigilant canine beside Bruce, interest slowly piquing. Pulling your headphones around your neck, you gestured to Ace. "He yours?"
"I'm holding his leash, aren't I?" His brows furrowed in annoyance. What kind of question was that? Were you stupid?
"Doesn't always mean he's yours." Your eyes thoughtfully examined Ace, a small smile spreading across your lips. "What breed is he?"
Bruce huffed, having hoped the conversation would have been over by now. You'd returned his wallet and he thanked you. End scene. There was no other reason you needed to further interact. Though he mildly entertained you anyway. "Dunno. I just found him in an alley."
"Damn," you muttered, "all I ever find in alleys are weirdos and dog sized rats…"
Not waiting for a response, you suddenly knelt before the mutt, holding out a hand reddened from the cold towards him.
"Wait, he doesn't really like—" Bruce's words died on his tongue as he watched his dog nuzzle into your palm after a couple sniffs.
"Aw, what a big baby." You cooed at him, your other hand coming to fully encircle his head in a gentle embrace. It was like shoving a square peg into a round hole. Cropped ears stood at attention, his warm and sleek coat almost soothing your chapped hands. "Such a handsome boy, aren't ya? Unfortunate about your ears, but you're still pretty."
Bruce simply stood there gobsmacked as he took in the sight of some stranger baby talking his 140 pounds dog who seemed rather privy to the high pitched praise and gentle affection.
Giggles escaped you as Ace gave your cheek a sloppy kiss, using her sleeve to wipe off the excessive slobber. You stood as you lightly patted his head. "What a good boy."
"You have no survival instinct." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had time to register what was happening.
"Huh?" Your big eyes turned to him, blinking as you tried to understand the implication of his words.
"You openly approached a stranger with a large animal with absolutely no regard for the potential consequences the situation could have posed to you." He scolded you like a parent would a child. "I could've easily dropped my wallet on purpose to lure you to me."
"Did you?"
Bruce paused, momentarily taken aback. "Well, no, but the point still stands that I could've had nefarious intentions." He huffed, narrowing his eyes at your retort. "And besides, you're supposed to ask the owner before you pet their dog."
"You look like you would've said no." You shrugged as if that was a valid enough reason to just pet Ace without consideration for the dog's possible temperament that would've determined how the interaction played out. You'd deemed him friendly enough to approach.
He could feel a familiar vein pulsing in his forehead, a dull pressure slowly building behind his eyes as he pressed his forefinger and thumb into the sockets. He hadn't felt this kind of annoyance in a long time. "I'm going to walk away now."
You lifted your headphones back into place, nodding. "Okay, I gotta go anyway." You looked down at Ace, giving him another smile and wave as you began down the path again. "Bye, boy! Hopefully, I'll see you soon."
The old man's eyes lingered on your retreating figure, face pulled tightly into a scowl. A grumbled irritation slipped past his lips before he continued on his walk.