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The Birthday Present	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 8478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
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"I asked: what won't Kath mind?"
Turning, Bruce found himself facing one of the tallest people he had ever seen in his life; outside of his 'extra curricular' activities.
"Uh." He started to say.
"Oh, John, you know I can't climb round you like this! And I need the loo!" A female voice protested.
"Kath?" Sandy moved out of the way and as he did so, the large man also stepped aside, revealing an older, heavily pregnant, version of the girl in Aunty Ivy's framed photo.
"Tom? TOMMY!" Screaming his name, Kath flung herself at Sandy, and two of them just stood and yelled incomprehensibly at each other, before disappearing into the house.
Left standing on the pavement with a total stranger, Bruce didn’t quite know what to do next. What did you say in this sort of situation?
"I don’t know about you mate, but I could murder a cuppa?" The tall man suggested sombrely. "I’m John Taylor, and in case you missed it with all the screaming; that was Kath, my wife…"
He didn’t seem all that perturbed about his wife running indoors with another man. Bruce decided that it was true what most people said, and the entire English race really was insane: polite, but insane.
"Bruce Wayne. That's Tom – although I know him as Sandy," He said carefully, waiting for any hint of outraged-husband-type behaviour.
"American?" John held out a hand and Bruce shook it. After being friends with Superman, what was there to worry about?

As he waited for the feeling to return to his fingers Bruce decided that Kal was even more of a miracle than he had previously suspected.
Or else a lot more careful?
"Kathy, sweetheart, do you want me to stick the kettle on?" John called up the stairs. There was an answering mumble, which might have been anything. John evidently understood it though. He glanced at Bruce. "Or maybe it’s not too early for something stronger?"
"I'm running on American time," Bruce assured him.
"Sounds perfect." John Taylor was obviously a man who took most things in his lengthy stride. "So, apart from the obvious, who are you?" He asked, as he rummaged in a wall cupboard for a couple of glasses.
"I'm wondering that myself." Bruce admitted. "We've been to visit Aunty Ivy, and she sent us here."
"Oh, Ivy." John nodded as if that explained everything. "Fancy a drop or two of whisky?"
"Why not?" Bruce decided that if he had ever needed an alcoholic drink, now was the time.
"Ice?" The other man asked.
"No thanks."
"Good, because I don’t think we have any." Came the laconic reply. "Ivy sent you then?" The thought seemed to have percolated sufficiently to warrant reconsideration.
"Sandy's her nephew." Bruce sipped at the surprisingly pleasant drink and contributed the little that he did know about the day’s events.
"Tom?" John mulled that over for at least a minute. "Yes, I thought he did look like Tom. Changed a bit, mind."
Which made perfect sense to Bruce, since it would have been a long time since the other man would last have seen Sandy ... Or Tom ... Should I call him that? He supposed that if Sandy decided to revert to his previous name then everyone would have to get used to it, but at the moment he couldn’t quite reconcile that name with his effusive friend. "I gather you knew each other? From school?" He asked.
"Oh yes. Well, we were never what you might call mates: Tom didn’t have any close mates except for Kath. He, well, I expect you know about all that?"
"Actually, no I probably don’t. Sandy," Bruce made a decision to keep to the name that was familiar to him for as long as possible. "Has had amnesia for as long as I've known him. I wasn’t sure that bringing him here would help, but since I had business in London, I made a few enquiries on the off-chance. Once it began to look like I might have traced him, we discussed it and here we are…"
"Aye." John nodded. "Well, you would, wouldn’t you?" He glanced along the passage and smiled. "You two alright then?"
"Fine." Kath wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her swollen belly happily. "Baby's having its afternoon kick, and Tom's using the downstairs loo." She assured her husband, pulling him down and giving him a kiss on the cheek, before getting herself a glass of water. "I've rung Sue and she'll have Philip for another few hours."

Thoroughly perplexed by now, Bruce sipped a little more whisky, and waited.
"Hi," A hand, very familiar in its contours, edged around him and pilfered the glass, "Thanks!" Sandy took a fairly large swig before passing the remainder back.
"Takes you for granted, I see?" Kath was moved to say. "He did that to me too."
"Sign of love." Sandy smirked.
Love? Bruce felt the floor dropping even further from under his feet.
"Oh." Kath merely looked at him, her face utterly inscrutable. "Is that what it is?"
"Kathy, I know I nearly drowned you in the pond that day, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you," Sandy said plaintively. "I do you know? Love you, that is."
"Then why haven't I seen hide nor hair of you for God knows how long?" Kath countered. “It’s been years, Tommy, bloody years!"

Bruce noticed John stepping ever so slightly away from his wife.
"Because I couldn’t remember anything about who I used to be until about an hour ago; and I still don’t remember more than a couple of scraps. Okay?" Sandy was uncharacteristically belligerent.
"I suppose it'll have to be." By her tone Kath wasn’t completely convinced, although she seemed to be willing to listen.
Bruce was confused; that wasn’t quite how he’d expected things to go. Why?
"I think he means it, love." John suggested helpfully.
"You do?" Kath stared out from under her fringe.
"Well, Bruce seems a straightforward sort of bloke, and he said much the same thing," John told her. "What possible reason could either of them have for saying it if it wasn’t true?" He looked earnestly at the mother of his children, "I mean, it's not as if they'd be after the family hundreds, is it?"
"Not hardly," His wife was obviously thawing.
"Hundreds?" Bruce asked, completely thrown by the reference.
"Well, since we don’t have millions, or even thousands, hundreds it is…" John told him.
Kath wasn’t going to be diverted for long. "You really don’t remember, Tom?"
"I remember you. Now. At least, I think I remember bits… I am sure about you being in the pond," Sandy told her.
"Of all the things you had to remember, it had to be THAT, didn’t it?" The pregnant woman narrowed her eyes dangerously, "And I suppose you are going to share the rest of it now, aren't you?"
Sandy shifted. "I don’t really remember much more." He started to say.
"No? Really?” Kath's voice dripped sarcasm. “You are a bloody liar Tommy! I knew when you were lying then, and I know when you're lying now!" Apparently the woman was a real viper when roused.
Bruce wasn’t sure if he ought to intervene, or not?
"I do sort of remember something else …" Sandy squirmed. "We were playing something … running?"
"Running?" Kath's eyes narrowed. "You're winding me up!"
Sandy looked distinctly uncomfortable by now.
"Go easy on him, love." John took pity on the bewildered man.
"John Taylor! Do you know how close I came to drowning that day? Because HE," She pointed an accusing hand at Sandy. "Couldn’t pull me out?"
"It's in the past, love."
"Or in the pond?" Sandy added. "Kath, have a heart, I've been ill. I can show you the scars!" He started to tug at his hair.
"You git! I'll give you ill! You have the bloody cheek to stand there and remember the one thing I would rather you forgot!"
"Heels…" Sandy said uncertainly.
"No you don’t!" Seizing a clean tea towel from the clotheshorse, Kath slapped it over his mouth. "Don’t you dare say it! You may be my only brother, but you are not going to get away with that!"

"Your brother?" Utterly astonished, Bruce stared from Kath to Sandy, and then back. Siblings?
"Oh aye. Can't you see it?" John chuckled. "Actually I think that pair are about as unalike in looks as you can get."
"But there is a definite resemblance – in temperament," Bruce agreed. "Which one's older?"
"You can't tell?" John grinned.
Bruce shook his head. "I wouldn’t dare try…"
“Smart fella.” The other man nodded sagely. The two of them stood there, while the battle of the siblings raged on around them. Tea towels rained left and right. Subtly removing a tablecloth from his wife's reach, John made a wry face.
Yes, definitely best to leave them to it… Bruce was a past master at the fine art of Staying Out Of The Middle Of It. If nothing else the time spent with Dick and Alfred, and a kitchen full of dangerous utensils, had taught him that much.
Laughing now, Sandy darted back, shamelessly using Bruce as cover. "Heels!" He called out in triumph. "High heels!"

"What?" John was caught up in the moment too now, undecided as to whether to support his wife, or delay taking sides and hear the rest of what was obviously a pivotal moment in her childhood; or at the very least, something hilarious...
"Kath was playing dress-up, and wearing Aunty Ivy's high heels!" Sandy laughed. "And her long evening dress!"
"Oh dear," Bruce was beginning to see the picture, "And you were both running around, out in the garden."
"And Kath tripped into the pond," John finished for them, guessing the ending.
"Oohhh!" Kath's eyes flashed sparks at them. "I am going to kill you for that, Tommy, and I shall probably chop up the pair of you for listening!"
The three men exchanged glances.
"In my delicate condition I might even get away with it!" She announced theatrically.
"What do you want, love?" John sighed. "Tea or a foot rub?" He gave Bruce and Sandy an apologetic shrug. "I have to bribe her, or she'll beat me," He announced, "I'm a martyr to her every desire… Henpecked…"
The statement was so patently ridiculous, that even Bruce was moved to laughter.

"I bet you don’t get treated like this in your house, eh, Bruce?" John stated, passing the bottle over. Unfortunately it was only lemonade, but it was the thought that counted.
Bruce shrugged. Any comment now might be taken as a criticism, and he didn’t want the formidable Kath taking umbrage at him.
"No, Bruce has a butler, and a big house," Sandy laughed. "What? It's true!"
"You really have a butler?" Kath looked over from where she was laying with her feet resting on her husband's lap.
"Yes, we," He poked Sandy in the ribs. "Have a butler, and a big house… though I inherited that."
"I knew you'd find someone rich to live with." Kathy said smugly.
"You did?" Sandy raised an eyebrow.
"He's always needed careful handling." Kath confided. "Aunty Ivy used to say that he was 'sensitive'… nowadays they just call it,"
A very affectionate hand slipped over her mouth. "That's not nice in company, Kathy," Apparently John got nipped for his trouble as he pulled his hand away quickly, "Nor is that."
"You don’t normally complain when I use my teeth," His wife gave an earthy laugh.
"Eew, too much information, Kath!" Sandy made a face.
"I was only going to tell Bruce about Tom's gift," Kathy protested. "Nothing rude, really!"
"My gift?" Sandy looked puzzled. "What gift?"
"You mean it's gone?" His sister stared at him in total disbelief.
"What's gone?"
"You're not psychic any more?"
"I'm not WHAT?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Tom … I mean, Sandy… Oh, I don’t know what to call you!"
"Sandy." Sandy told her. "I don’t really remember enough about that other time to feel comfortable with that name."
Bruce heaved an inward sigh of relief, thankful that he wasn’t going to have to try and get used to Sandy not being Sandy...

"You never were comfortable." Kath said unexpectedly. "I mean, I grew out of it, but you could never bear anyone touching you. What did you used to call it? Something colourful?"
"Don’t ask me… I haven't a clue what you're on about." Her brother told her.
"Bubbles? Flickers?" Kath swung her legs over and sat up. "Flashes? Oh, it doesn’t really matter, does it? But you used to be able to tell things about the people who touched you… Doesn’t that happen any more?"
Sandy looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I …"
"Try it now. Here," Kath reached over and held out her hand.
"I don’t know…"
"Oh go on… It's only me. We used to do it all the time. What harm could it do?"
Sandy sat there, "How did it work, Kath?"
"I don’t know exactly. We used to shut our eyes, and you could tell me about what I was looking at, how I felt," She leaned closer, "I was never that good at it. Sometimes I could feel you clearly, but mostly it was a blur. Try it now, Sandy? Maybe it'll help you remember?"
"Maybe." Sandy accepted the hand and the pair of them sat.
Will it help? Bruce watched his lover. Can anything?
The seconds ticked by and the tension mounted.

"Kath?"
"I'm fine, John." Kath sighed. "Well, maybe it's best that you've lost it. It was never much fun for you. I always worried that people would find out what you could do. No one really likes someone else knowing that sort of thing about them… all their deep dark secrets."
It was then that Bruce realised that he had just been inadvertently handed a very significant clue.
Who might Sandy have met back when he was still Thomas Worral, and what might he have accidentally found out about?
"We really ought to be going…" Bruce suddenly thought to check his wristwatch, "I'll call Alfred and have him come back and pick us up."
"Where did he go?" Sandy looked at him.
"I didn’t want him to have to hang around while we were in Aunty Ivy's, so I told him to go and get himself some food, and I'd ring for him later." Bruce told him.
"You really DO have a butler?" Kath was fascinated.
"I already told you that. It's MY memory that's dodgy, not yours… Unless pregnancy messes with your brain?" Sandy teased.
"Bog off." His sister told him affectionately.
Gently hauling his wife to her feet, John smiled. "Wonderful, isn't she?"
"Always was." Sandy agreed, and leaning forward, hugged his sister affectionately. “Although I’m glad I didn’t have a brother. Can you imagine Kath as a bloke? That’d be scary!”
"Bloody terrifying. Only joking, Love!” John agreed cheekily. “How come you can hug her, but you couldn’t pull her out of the pond?" He wondered.
"Oh you!" Kath reached out and playfully slapped at his arm, "Because it was wet!"
Wet? How would that … oh… Bruce could see it happening, but was just a few inches too far away to prevent it. The baby chose that moment to move and Kath lost her balance just slightly, pulling at John for support, and, as if in slow motion, John's bare hand brushed the side of Sandy's wrist.
No!

The flash of light that poured out of Sandy arched high into the air, and started to recoil. Seeing it, Sandy shot out an arm so that the back of his hand prevented the recoiling column from reaching John. Just as the last of the light sank into Sandy's flesh, the blond’s outstretched fingers clenched and with a single howl of pain, Sandy dropped to the floor, out cold.
"What was that?" John stared aghast at the man now lying unconscious at his feet.
"Don't touch him!" Kath took charge. "Bruce, slip your jacket off and wrap it round him; but don’t touch his skin!"
Trusting that Sandy’s sister would know what to do, Bruce did as instructed.
"Can you pick him up; from down there; without doing yourself an injury?" Kath was asking.
"Of course," Bruce could jerk-lift substantially more than his own weight, and often had to as Batman, not that he could have told anyone that…
"Good, then do it. John…"
"Kath?"
"Step right back out of the way while Bruce gets him onto the couch."
Settling the limp form on the padded couch, Bruce looked for signs of a return to consciousness. "What do we do now?" Should they call an ambulance? If we did, what would we say had happened?
"We wait." Kath was firm. "That was a bad one, but he'll come out of it in a few minutes."
"You're acting like he just had some sort of fit…" John started to say.
"It isn't a fit,” Kath disagreed, “It's … just Tom."
"This happened regularly when you were children?" Bruce asked.
"Pretty regularly," Kath nodded, "It got worse for Tom as he got older."
"Did this ever happen to you?" John looked at his wife with concern.
"Not like this, I grew out of all of it; but poor Tom just grew into it more. Our Dad had it too…"
There's something she's not saying there… What?
"The baby? And Philip?"
"Probably don’t have it," Kath was quiet.
Is she really telling him the truth? Bruce watched for any indicative signs. Would I, in her situation?

"But they could have!" The large man was visibly unsettled.
"Yes, they could! But right now, the only one who does have it is my little brother, and he just went through that so you could be alive to see your children grow up!" Kath yelled, and abruptly burst into tears.
"I don’t understand, Kath: I love you, and I want to understand; but I don’t." John was trembling.
"Have a stiff drink," Bruce said firmly, then he remembered the British cure-all, "Or a strong cup of tea."
"I'll put the kettle on," Sniffing loudly Kath headed off into the kitchen, wiping her nose.
"Did you know anything about this?" John was staring at nothing.
Bruce wasn’t sure just how much more any of them could cope with right at that moment. "I knew that Sandy can't bear being touched unexpectedly and that it … affects him; but it's never really been a problem," He said diplomatically.
"Never? He's never done anything like this before?"
"I've never seen anything like it," Bruce told him honestly, "Probably because Sandy is usually so careful to avoid this sort of thing. Besides, I don’t think any of us could have predicted it."
"He saved me…" John said slowly, "Kath said it, and she was right. The instant I touched him and that … flash went off; he knew what he was about."
"Sorry?"
"Eh? Oh, I mean that he knew what he would have to do, if he were going to stop it hitting me." The other man blinked. "And he did it. I don’t know if I'd have the balls to take that like he did."
"It wasn’t the flicker that hurt him." Kath walked in quietly and sat on the arm of her husband's chair.
"It wasn’t?" John looked up at her.
"No: it was touching you. When Tom touches someone and he's not ready to, he feels their pain … their emotions; it overwhelms him."
"Bloody hell…"
"It is hell, for him," Kath glanced at Bruce, "It's easier on him if he wakes up with someone holding him. Not directly touching, if you see, just holding," Out in the kitchen the kettle started whistling.
"I understand," Bruce manoeuvred Sandy until the blond’s head was resting against his chest.
Nodding at him, Kath went to see to the kettle.
"You're a big lad, Bruce," John noted, "I thought I was well-built, but you've got inches on me around the chest, and I don’t reckon I could haul him around the way you just did. Do a lot of body building, do you?"
A devil of mischief sparked in Bruce and he couldn’t resist. What harm could it do?
"I'm the Batman." He said, keeping his face perfectly straight, "In my spare time."
"Oh." John thought that over. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Batman."
As Bruce nodded solemnly, their eyes met across the room.

As Kath came back in with the tea, she was treated to the sight of two grown men giggling like loons in her living room, while one of them cuddled her long-lost younger brother like a plush toy.
"Do make yourself at home." She offered dryly.
"Oh we are, love, we are." John was just about able to say. "Did you know that we're playing host to the Batman?"
Kath ignored her husband. "Sugar, Bruce?"
Managing to control his amusement, Bruce shook his head, wondering vaguely what that distant buzzing noise was.
"Isn't that your mobile phone going off?" Kath asked, putting a cup of strong tea down on the table beside him.
"Perhaps it's the Bat signal!" John was instantly off again.
Rescuing his cell phone from his jacket pocket, Bruce stared at it. How had it gotten set onto 'vibrate' instead of 'ring'?
"I thought I should advise you that I am parked outside the house, Master Bruce," Alfred's dry tones were the perfect antidote to John's humour.
"Ah, Alfred … Slight change of plans," With a sigh, Bruce composed himself, "We're at Number fourteen now, it's a red door."
"Very good, Sir," If Alfred was at all surprised at the vagaries of his employer, he was far too experienced to show it. "I shall be there momentarily."
"Thanks." Closing the connection Bruce was about to take a closer look at the phone settings, when it occurred to him that it wasn’t very polite to be found playing with electronic toys in the middle of someone else's house.
"Mmmm?"
The bundle in Bruce's arms stirred ever so slightly. "Sandy?" Relieved, Bruce glanced down, and found the blond looking up at him.
"Bruce?" Sandy snuggled into the warm darkness, "S'nice," He said, and closed his eyes again.
Bruce flushed: it was more than pleasant for him too.
But neither the right time nor the right place.
"Sandy?" Kath apparently had a solution, "Tea?"
"Kath?" Blinking, Sandy started to sit up.
"Let me help?" Bruce boosted him into a sitting position by pressing one hand in the middle of his back and pushing.
"I feel awful," Sandy decided.
"In what way?" That worried Bruce.
“Yukky,” Came the quiet reply.
"Oi, I've got the corner on morning sickness in this house," His sister warned.
"I wasn’t going to be sick," Sandy protested, "I just feel bad."
"A minute ago you felt awful," Kath held the teacup just out of reach. "Maybe you shouldn’t have this then?"
"I'm getting better," Sandy told her, leaning forward and taking the cup, "Improving all the time."
"Poor Bruce!" Kath seemed to have noticed that Bruce was being used as a booster cushion.
"He's used to it," Sandy muttered, as he gulped his tea. "Are there any biscuits?"
"He'd have to be, with you around," Kath was practical, and blunt as ever, now that the crisis had evidently passed, "No, there are no biscuits. You'll spoil your dinner."
"You have to love them, don’t you?" John chuckled.
"Apparently so," Bruce agreed, only then realising exactly how that was likely to be interpreted.
"Don’t worry about it, mate, we won't," John shrugged. "Welcome to the family."
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The Birthday Present