When Bruce Wayne was a 8 years old, on a silent walk alone around the manor’s grounds, he fell down an old empty well.
He screamed for help, covering his ears to block out the bat screeching echoing all around him- and curled himself against the stone for any sort of stability.
The wall gave way, and he thought for sure he had died when he woke up in total darkness. Only a distant dripping of water.
His fears were seemingly confirmed when he looked up and saw a single light, not illuminating anything- simply acting as a gentle beacon.
Did his parents see this when they went?
His heart skipped a beat.
Would his parents be on the other side?
His morbid hope turned to a strange sense of horror and relief when he realized his heart skipped a beat.
His heart was beating. He was.. cold, and he was wet. He had water in his socks and he hated water in his socks.
He was horribly uncomfortable and his ankle hurt so bad, and he was alive.
Bruce took a few deep breaths, feeling around, and he realized he was in a shallow puddle.
He dragged himself out, onto smooth hard stone.
His eyes never adjusted, there wasn’t enough of the light-
And he realized the light he saw was an exit.
He tried to run, but he cried out and fell back down, smacking his face hard against the rock and splitting his lip.
Now he was cold and wet and tasted blood, and he hated blood, he hated blood-
Bruce dragged himself towards the faint light sobbing, only to cry in sheer agony when he realized it was too steep.
He lay there for what felt like years, wondering if he was going to die down there alone, wishing someone would please come save him when he heard something else.
“Hello?” He called hoarsely, squinting at the light fruitlessly.
No, of course not. He was alone.
Bruce choked on his tears, screaming for help over and over-
“I’m sorry- I- I can’t! I’m.. I’m stuck!”
Oh.. oh no.. Bruce finally registered that the voice was coming from deeper in the cave.
He started to drag himself towards the voice, to hear them better- but he knocked his ankle into a rock and shrieked with pain-
“Stay there! It’s not safe down here, please, stay where you are!”
The voice called, and it was much clearer now than it was before. Bruce curled up on his side and held his leg close, whimpering softly.
“How- how long have you been stuck?”
“I don’t know. I.. I keep seeing the light get way brighter for a few hours, so that must be daytime, and this is nighttime.. so.. a long time I think.”
Bruce shrieked, with fear this time, and the voice was much quicker to respond-
“I- no, it’s ok! You’re going to be ok, I promise, I’m going to help you get out, I just.. I..”
Bruce was still panicking, he didn’t want to die, he just wanted to go home, but home never felt like home anymore, it was why he came out here in the first place.
“Do you have anything with you?”
Of course he did, his mom and Alfred always told him to be prepared for anything.
He turned out his pockets, feeling for his small pocket knife, a few bandaids, hand sanitizer, and a small ball of twine.
He relays all of this to the mysterious voice, who sounds a lot like an older boy.
“Good! That’s really good, kid, you’re halfway to a flare. Wrap some of the twine into a sort of stick shape, and soak one end with the hand sanitizer. It’s the alcohol kind, right?”
“Yea,” Bruce called back, already finished weaving a small chord keychain like his dad taught him.
He started to squeeze the hand sanitizer bottle; but then he realized something.
“How am I gonna light this?”
“With my lighter. I dropped it on my way down, and if it didn’t flood too bad up there since then, it should still work. It’s metal, so it’ll feel colder than the stones.”
Bruce gingerly set the twine in his pocket, and began feeling along the ground.
It took him several minutes, but as he searched, the voice tried comforting him.
“I know this is scary.. but you’re going to be ok.”
“You don’t know that!” He snapped.
“I do. Because I’m going to get you out. I’m going to save you.”
“Like you saved yourself?”
Silence for a moment. Bruce felt horrible, why would he say that? He was trying to help, and now he was gone, what if he died-
“Aha.. yea, you got me there!”
Bruce wiped his tears and pretended they’d never fallen.
“But hey, you’ve got supplies up there. I’ve got.. well pretty much just the clothes on my back. What’s left of it, anyway.”
Bruce felt sick thinking of what could possibly be keeping the mysterious boy trapped, what he meant by that..
Cold under his hands. Something square.
“I- I found it!” He cried out, scrambling to sit and pull out the chord.
“Yes! I told you, you’re gonna be just fine! Hold the wet end of the chord away from you, then flick the wheel on the lighter. It might take a couple tries, but that doesn’t mean it’s broken!”
Bruce nodded, even though he couldn’t be seen- and soon he was holding fire in his hands.
“I did it! I made a flare!”
“Perfect! Ok, now throw it at the light! Don’t worry, there’s another opening for oxygen on this side- the smoke will go up, not in here!”
Bruce was suddenly very afraid. He wasn’t much of a thrower.
“Then light it again and try again. Don’t give up. Never give up, ok? Giving up is what traps you, not any kind of rocks or broken bones. Never ever give up.”
Bruce took a deep breath, pulled his arm back, and threw as hard as he could.
The flare smacked against the rock wall and rolled down the steep slope.
He almost cried, but he refused to give up.
He pulled himself over and relit the smoldering twine, and threw it again.
He grunted with effort, feeling his face heat up and his ankle throb.
He threw it one more time.
And it disappeared into the hole, igniting the sticks and leaves that he had landed on in the well- that was the well! He was still in the well? There’s a cave in the well!?- and illuminating half of the cave.
Bruce saw shimmering stalagmites and stalactites, saw several of the bags had followed him in- he nearly had a heart attack- but they’d simply settled in and started to make their nests.
He looked off to the side with hope and dread, but he still couldn’t see deep enough to get a glimpse of his savior.
“I got it!” He called out, almost smiling.
“Woo!” The boy cheered, not bothering to hide his excitement.
“Now, sadly, we.. wait. But don’t worry, you lit a fucking well on fire on private property. Someone is gonna come check on it.”
Bruce didn’t worry. Because Alfred would come.
And Alfred would come because Bruce lit a beacon fire.
And Bruce was able to light a fire because of a poor trapped boy who didn’t have an Alfred to come save him.. Did anyone even know he was missing?
“Once we get out, Alfred will help you too,” he promises.
“He’s my dad’s.. he’s my butler. But he’s been really good at taking care of me.”
And then, “I don’t think I’m getting out of here, kid.”
Bruce frowned. What was he talking about? They were about to be rescued.
“Alfred wouldn’t just leave you here- well maybe he’d have to call some rescue people from the fire department- but we’re not gonna let you wait here all alone either!”
“You’re a good kid.. but I’m pretty sure I’m.. stuck.”
“Then we’ll get you unstuck?” He called out.
“Not that kind of stuck, bud..”
Bruce wanted to ask what he meant.
But then he heard what he’d been so desperate for,
Bruce screamed at the top of his lungs like his mom taught him, words are very difficult to get out loud enough, if you make your voice ring then everyone will look
Alfred’s voice came from much closer, but still so far away- echoing down the well and into the cave.
“Master Bruce, are you down there!?”
“Thank goodness! You, call the fire department at once..”
He must be talking to another member of staff- he must have gotten people together to search for him..
He turned back towards the darkness, “See? You’re gonna be okay too, Alfred’s gonna get us out!”
“Master Bruce, is someone down there with you?” Alfred called.
“Yes! He’s stuck really bad, I think he’s hurt!”
Alfred told someone to make sure they brought two ambulances, not just one.
Alfred kept talking to him, keeping him company for the next half hour while they waited for the fire department to bring a ladder- and then the paramedics carried him up, and he begged them to be careful with his friend because he sounded really really hurt..
They set him down in the ambulance to look over, and he saw the other paramedics leaving the well.
All of the firefighter’s radios went off, and they spat out some kind of code. Bruce wished he knew what it meant.
“Where are they going? Do they need tools?” He asked the lady that was feeling his ankle. He realized she had stopped when the radio went off.
“..Yea. They need to get some special people and equipment.” She looked pale. “Your ankle doesn’t feel broken at all, but I’ll let your guardian know an x-ray would be a good idea. Let’s get you something to drink..”
Bruce realized that Alfred was talking to police officers, and he resisted a recoil of disgust. He really didn’t like cops..
Alfred looked really worried, though.
He came back over to Bruce while the woman was handing him an opened bottle of water.
“I don’t want go to the hospital, Alfred, I wanna wait by the well!” He said earnestly.
Alfred looked just as pale as the paramedic.
Bruce realized he recognized that face.
He thinks he knows what the code meant.
“No..” he started tearing up, “No, I told him we’d wait for him, that he-“
Alfred pulled him into a tight hug.
Bruce was taken to the hospital to have his leg x-rayed, and his ankle ended up just being bruised. He was really lucky.
They patched his lip, which he’d somehow forgotten was bleeding- he’d somehow been completely distracted from the horrible blood taste.
His friend had distracted him.
He lay in the hospital bed slowly sipping apple sauce, when Alfred came in with a cop.
But then he realized that he recognized this man. He relaxed a bit, recalling soft wool around his shoulders on a cold rainy night.
“Master Bruce, Mr Gordon has a few questions he would like to ask about the cave.”
Mr Gordon sat down in the chair next to Bruce’s bed, and he took a deep breath.
“I wish we could meet again under nicer circumstances,” he said, “You’ve been through too much for.. a lifetime. I don’t want to sit here and make you go over it all again. You’re a smart kid, so I’m not going to beat around the bush like some of the other guys that were on the scene. You deserve the truth before I ask you for anything.”
Bruce was scared. He was confused. He had no idea what was about to come from Mr Gordon’s mouth and he didn’t know if he wanted to know.
“When the paramedics went down into the cave, they found a rockslide. They followed it to the bottom.” Mr Gordon gripped his notebook tightly. “They found a skeleton.”
Bruce’s heart sunk. “What?”
“They look to be around teen age, and they were buried halfway under the rockslide. The ME says they must have been over five years dead.”
The rest of the details, the rest of the questions were a blur.
He just nodded and shook his head, offering up only the details about finding the lighter and making the chord flare. He didn’t know what they would think if he said how he learned to do it.
Alfred took him home, and he lay in bed quietly, staring up at the ceiling.
Bruce wanted to throw up.
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