( Bruce learned at a very young age how to evade attention, even before he watched his father murder his mother. A large part of that strategy was learning how to lie: to tell the cops, Child Protective Services, his own family, that he was okay. He got better at it as he grew, evading curiosity and pity alike, so much so that it's practically second nature to him to put on that mask of distant politeness.

So it's not a surprise that he can recognize that same distant pain in this other man. His smile does little to hide the haunted look in his eyes, the silent history that must lurk behind him, but the attempt is valiant enough that Bruce won't bring it up - maybe for both of their sakes. )

I'm okay now - someone saved me from freezing to death, thankfully. ( Bruce offers the other man a wry but sincere smile as he releases his grip from the other hand. ) But if you don't mind me asking something, Mr. Little - sorry, should I call you Lieutenant Little? - I'm trying to piece this all together, but I have no idea how exactly I got here. Do you have any memory of how you did?