Bruce gripped his father's hand as the elevator rocketed skyward. Confined spaces still made him anxious, but his father provided comfort, just as he did on all those nights Bruce would wake screaming, paralysed with fear, reliving the moment he'd found himself trapped inside the dank, bat-infested cave beneath the grounds of the manor.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator finally slowed to a halt and the doors opened into Thomas Wayne's plush new office at the summit of Wayne Tower.
"Take a look, son." His father said, leading Bruce to the vast windows overlooking Gotham's smog-shrouded skyline.
The boy pressed his palms against the cold glass and felt a dizzying rush as he gazed down at the miniature city below.
"Gotham's been good to us, Bruce, and we have a responsibility to give something back. This tower's just the beginning of our legacy, a legacy I hope you'll continue long after I'm gone."
Bruce looked up to meet his father's eyes. The thought of losing him had never crossed the young boy's mind, and suddenly Bruce was back in that cave, alone, the piercing screech of bats filling his ears.
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