There is the usual swearing as he crash lands in thigh high water—having just splashed through a waterfall at a ferocious speed—and then the inevitable thought: Well, that didn't go as planned.
A cryptic note in a black satchel was what had brought him to these coordinates. From a billionaire, vigilante, dead man. A rappelling belt and thick wire had sent him soaring down a suspicious cliff, also from a man he'd known all his life, yet only met a few times.
His mouth drops open as he takes in the cavern. High ceilings carved from black rock, water cascading down the stones, past impossibly intricate infrastructure. He's never seen anything like it.
And Bruce Wayne, or the Batman, as he would be remembered, has basically given it to him. His throat tightens.
The floor rises under his feet the moment he steps on a panel, exposing the stiff black suit. Heavy armor, utility belt, hidden weapons. A mask that covers half the face.
Past the display case is a desk, with three computers set up in a hemisphere. He sits down at the desk chair, jiggles the mouse to wake the computer. It asks for a log-in, username and password.
He tries Bruce Wayne first, and then Batman as password. Not exactly subtle, but he figures even Wayne wasn't paranoid enough to think someone might make it down here without his knowing.
He's not surprised when the name and password are not accepted.
He tries again, with John Blake. Then, on a whim, he puts the password as Robin.
It takes a second for the computer to load, and then he's in.
The desktop is cluttered with folders, no doubt labeled only for his sake. Some are contact numbers for Lucius Fox and Alfred Pennyworth, others for the new CEO and board members of the gradually revived Wayne Enterprises. Several are labeled simple Tools, and are filled with blue prints for gadgetry that could be useful, some already built, some just basic ideas.
If Blake didn't know better, he'd think Bruce Wayne wanted him as a successor.
He leans back for a second to take it in, and that's when he hears to footsteps.
He leaps from his seat, reaching for the gun that used to be on his hip and turning toward the sound of shoes echoing on the stone floor. Standing before him is a woman about his own age, in black slacks and a button up blouse. Her brown hair is pulled back in a bun. She doesn't look afraid, or surprised, by his arrival.
"Wha...what are you doing here?" Blake asks.
"I could ask you the thing, but judging by the way you came in and the fact you can access the computer probably says you have more of a right to be here than I do."
She has a southern accent, though from what state he has no idea.
"I...kind of inherited it." He replies.
"I found it by accident." She says. "They set a temporary hospital in one of the nearby summer houses after the immediate evacuation at the end of Gotham's occupation, and since I'm a doctor in New Jersey I got drafted. Had some free time one day and went for a walk, nearly fell down the whole and broke my neck."
"You live in New Jersey?"
"By choice?" He asks in good humor.
She smiles slightly. He recognizes that look in her eyes—carefully suppressed sadness. Only hers is quieter, not fiery and angry like his. Fire and ice in reaction, they are, but she has lost someone, just like him.
"It's for a job. I take it you're from Gotham?"
"You were there during the occupation?"
He nods gravely. That's what there calling it on the outside; The "Occupation" of Gotham by Bane. It's one of those things that is going to be referenced for a very long time after it's ended.
"And," She smiles the smile only he and Bruce Wayne could understand, a look of utter melancholy. "You know, or I'm sorry, knew the Batman."
"You've heard of him?"
He's beginning to relax his body tension. She's not a threat, by any extension of the imagination. Not after what he's seen the last six months.
"I see you've gotten into the computer." She says, and he lets her approach the desk, lets himself settle back into the chair. "I've been wandering around here for a good long while, looking at all this stuff, but barely even tried to try the computer. Figured the odds of me stumbling on the code were so miniscule there was not point."
She glances at the login info. "You're John Blake?"
"I'm Medina Rush."
They exchange a quick smile again, and then she leans over his shoulder as he resumes his searching through the various files and documents, occasionally commenting.
He sneaks a glance at her while she's not looking, sees the light of the computer screen reflecting off her dark eyes. Maybe he can follow in the footsteps of the Batman. Just as long as he doesn't have to do it alone.
Author's Note: This is a slight crossover in that Medina Rush is a character from a House, M.D. Fanfic I wrote. She's an OC, and a doctor in New Jersey is pretty vague, so you don't need to have read my story or know House to read this. Anyways, thanks and please review!