MISUNDERSTANDING

[2 days later] [Bruce's room]

'Over eight months and yet no response,' Bruce wondered as he examined the lightning ring. The last time it worked was when he teleported back into the alley near the manor with Selina. After that, the ring went silent. He knows that there is a certain cooldown period but it's been far too long.

He stretched his body and turned around toward the glass window, hugging his pillow. His thoughts drifted back to the Marvel world. The faces of his friends and family flashed before his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder about the people he had left behind, especially his beloved wife, Pepper Potts.

As he gazed out of the window, his thoughts were filled with images of Pepper. He remembered her strong and determined personality, her intelligence, and her unwavering support for him, both as Tony Stark and Iron Man. They had been through so much together, facing countless challenges and dangers.

"How is Pepper doing over there?" Bruce mumbled to himself. He couldn't shake the worry that crept into his mind. It's been a long time since he saw her.

He imagined Pepper continuing to manage Stark Industries with the same efficiency and grace. She was a woman of immense talent and capability. But deep down, he missed her presence, her voice, and her warm smiles.

Bruce couldn't help but wonder if she was worried about him, just as he was about her. In this new reality, he had built new relationships and made friends, but the bond he had with Pepper was unique. She was not just his partner in business and life; she was his anchor, the one who kept him grounded.

He sighed, realizing that he had no way of knowing how she was faring in the Marvel universe. The uncertainty gnawed at him. He missed her more than he could express. Bruce wished he could reach out to her, to hear her voice, to tell her that he was safe and that he missed her.

But for now, he was stuck in this alternate reality, focused on his training and the challenges he faced here. The lightning ring that had brought him here remained silent, and there was no way to teleport to the Marvel world.

As he hugged his pillow, Bruce couldn't help but hope that one day, he would find a way back to Marvel Earth, meet Pepper and the others, and finish his unfinished business.

[Next Morning]

The next morning, Bruce awoke to the soft rays of the sun streaming through his window. The thoughts of the previous night still lingered in his mind, especially the yearning to hear from Pepper. He knew he had to put those thoughts aside for now and face the day.

As he stretched and prepared to get out of bed, he heard a gentle knock on his bedroom door. "Come in," he called out.

The door creaked open, and Alfred entered with his usual composed demeanor. He approached Bruce and spoke in his refined British accent, "Good morning, Master Bruce. Your father wishes to have a conversation with you in his study. He asked that you join him at your earliest convenience."

He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess that clung to him in the early morning. He glanced at the clock, which confirmed it was indeed early. 'What does he want? It's only 7:00 AM?' His father's request for a conversation at this hour seemed unusual, but he knew it must be important.

"Alright, Alfred," He replied, still fighting the remnants of sleep. "I'll be down in a few minutes. Tell Dad I'll join him."

Alfred nodded and silently left the room, closing the door behind him. Bruce took a moment to freshen up, washing his face to shake off the drowsiness. He dressed in casual attire and made his way toward the study.

"Morning, Dad," He greeted as he entered the room, trying to read his father's expression. "You wanted to talk?"

Thomas nodded, motioning for him to take a seat. Once they were both settled, he took a deep breath, his expression heavy with concern.

"Bruce, there's something I need to tell you," He began, his voice steady but filled with regret. He reached into his desk and pulled out a worn sketchbook.

Bruce's eyes widened as he recognized it – it was the sketchbook he had owned when he was just three years old, filled with his early drawings and ideas.

He explained, his voice tinged with guilt. "I took it without informing you, and for that, I'm deeply sorry, son."

'What is he talking about? I intentionally gave it to him so that he could develop the first version of the Arc Reactor to give me a rough idea about the technology of this world...' Bruce thought, confused.

"I took the sketchbook not long after you gave it to me, and I started working on your ideas," Thomas confessed. "You see, the concept of the Arc Reactor was something I found intriguing. I believe it has the potential to bring about positive changes for our city and the world. So, I dedicated myself to bringing your vision to life."

'I know. Lucius already told me about it at the party. And why the hell is he sorry?' Bruce wondered. 'Don't tell me he has been feeling guilty of stealing his son's work all this time?! Fuck! This is kinda weird. I can't even tell him that I intentionally gave it to him to check out the advancement of this world's technology...'

"I know you have heard it from Lucius, but I wanted to tell you in person. Every day I wanted to tell this to you, but I... I just couldn't... I was afraid that you would hate me..." Thomas confessed. "Heck, I even tried to oppress your growth in fear of my enemies targeting you. You must have noticed it since you were always a bright kid... The board members, those bunch of greedy Owls... You have no idea the things they have done just to uncover the one behind the reactor... I am sorry, Bruce..." 

Thomas Wayne's confession hung in the air, and Bruce was caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The sketchbook, a memento from his childhood, held the seeds of his brilliant invention, the Arc Reactor. He had entrusted it to his father, not knowing what path it would lead them down.

"Wow, wow, wow... What are you talking about? I can understand your situation, that's why I didn't say anything. I thought you knew that. Besides, I was stuck in bed for 10 long years... So, don't worry about it." Bruce raised his brows in confusion, trying to fake his expression, "As for the book... I left the blueprints among the pages for you to understand my ideas and develop them. I even drew arrows and highlighted the parts you needed to focus on developing it. Don't tell me you just built it following only that piece of paper?!"

"Huh?" Thomas blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Bruce's reaction. He had anticipated anger and resentment, not understanding or acceptance. 'To think, he has grown up so much. I am really proud of you, Bruce. You have no idea the amount of pressure just lifted from my heart...'

Thomas scrutinized the sketchbook, flipping through the pages, looking for the arrows and highlights Bruce mentioned.

'No wonder it didn't work during the trial phase,' He thought.

"Wait! This book was for me?" Thomas asked confused, trying to grasp the situation, "You mean, I didn't steal it, right?"

Bruce nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "No, Dad, you didn't steal it. I gave it to you. I wanted you to work on those ideas."

Thomas let out a breath of relief, his earlier tension dissipating, "I see... I had no idea it was meant for me... All these years... Haha... Why didn't you say so?"

"I forgot," Bruce chuckled, remembering that night, "Mom called me to brush my teeth... Then I went to bed. I was three back then... I was a kid. And kids forget things... Then the coma...I was so busy getting back to my feet that it almost slipped my mind."

Bruce's revelation brought a sense of relief to the room. Thomas had carried the weight of guilt for years, thinking he had taken his son's ideas without permission. The air in the study lightened as the misunderstanding was cleared up. "I should have said it sooner..."

"Let's just forget about that, yeah? And focus on the important matter?" Bruce pointed at the book.

He couldn't help but laugh at the innocence of a three-year-old Bruce entrusting him with the sketchbook. "Well, it seems I misunderstood your intentions, my boy."

Bruce smiled, "It's alright, Dad. Hey, can you show me the prototype? You still have one, right?"

"Of course, Bruce," Thomas replied with a relieved smile. "I'll have Lucius bring it up so you can take a look at it. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it."

Bruce nodded in agreement, genuinely curious about how his father had interpreted and developed his ideas over the years. This revelation had lifted a weight off both their shoulders, and he was eager to see the result of their combined efforts.

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