about sunrise

[crusaded]

Considering how closely knit the people of this island are, I'm surprised Monday's explosion didn't cause more panic. In the short amount of time I've spent on Tabula Rasa, it's quickly become clear that trouble seems to attract the same few individuals— or, conversely, perhaps it's the people who draw trouble to them, inviting it to their doorstep. I haven't distinguished correlation from causation yet, but the former is widespread knowledge.

I do start to wonder if I should be endearing myself to that inner circle, as it were. I don't expect to be welcomed, either as Bruce or as Batman, by the majority of their number. And frankly, I don't need widespread approval. I need a single contact, someone I can trust, someone who can set aside differences and realize that someone such as myself could prove to be of aid in certain situations.

Coupled with the other conversations I'm sure we ought to have at some point, only one man stands out as the right choice.

I find him, one Wednesday morning, having a late breakfast in the kitchen. It's meals that seem to be the most practical time to seek the man out. With the crowd buzzing around us, and with the chef of the day actually being someone whose food I trust, there's plenty of reason for both of us to be there, and plenty of distractions to keep us from drawing too much attention. Spotting an open seat across from him, I grab a plate of eggs and toast and round the table.

"This spot free?" I ask, making sure to smile.

Comments

[onlyforthedream]

"Walk with me," I say, and it isn't a suggestion, but it sounds enough like one to avoid giving anyone around us a reason to be interested. I stand, tucked the notebooks against my forearm and starting for the hall with a thank you on our way out to the day's cook.

"He's been through some hellish things, here," I tell Bruce once we're away from the dwindling breakfast crowd and heading for the compound's exit.

"But he has support. Friends, people he looks up to, people he knows to care about him. I've seen him withdrawn and I've seen him manic, but I've never seem him completely fall apart or lash out at anyone," I continue, holding the door open for Bruce after I've taken the first step out of it.

"He has a life here, and it means a lot to him."

[crusaded]

I nod at the chef, follow Steve outdoors. Easy enough. I listen to what he has to say, and I'm not sure if it'd be wise to explain some of the things that Jason's done back in Gotham. Not all of which I've seen with my own eyes, but I don't doubt any of it; perhaps that's more important. I can see Jason descending into madness more easily than I can see him recovering fully. That fact still remains even now.

"My being here changes that," I tell Steve, glancing casually behind us before we continue forward. "Whatever he's seen here, he's probably seen worse back home. I have no intention of forcing my way back into his life, but for one, he has a girlfriend who seems keen on making it happen. And friends who believe me to be a constant threat and aren't afraid to treat me as one."

[onlyforthedream]

"Which is a positive," I point out.

"Albeit not for you. Bruce..." I stop when we're off the path a ways and turn back to face him. I'm not angry and I don't want to pressure him into giving me more details, that's not the point of this. But if he's really concerned, he needs to understand just what he's up against.

"Your reputation precedes you. It's one that commands respect. Even if it didn't, you managed to get past Wolverine, which... speaks volumes. But Bucky and I are both aware of the fact that you cut that boy's throat, and it makes it damn hard to take anything else into account."

[crusaded]

I pause, meeting Steve's gaze fully.

(My reputation? Mark that as something I ought to ask more about soon.)

"And how much of the full picture do you think you have?"