Broken Limits
Alfred listened to Bruce's heavy breathing, the low rumble of the bike, and the guttural hiss that whispered past clenched teeth. Every instinct in his body told him that Bruce was injured, needed to be treated by a doctor, needed professionals to deal with all his injuries. Alfred reviewed the day, muttering words of encouragement to a man so trapped by his pain that he was deaf to the world.
Bruce had crashed his car, while saving that little weasel. Taken on entire SWAT teams, vicious guard dogs, and the insane clown; before being shot by the white knight and falling from a building. Alfred had to believe that a lesser man would be dead by now.
Alfred used his cell phone to place a quick call to an old friend, hoping that Bruce wouldn't mind a little help patching himself up for once.
~*~
Bruce shuddered, his bike swerved violently, the pain racking through his body was beginning to numb him. He ducked into yet another alley, seeking to loose the police pursuers, confuse them and then retreat that had been the plan. He finally moved to retreat when the siren's faded away, leaving him in near silence as he rumbled into the shipping yards. The red container that served as his hiding spot, it had never looked so inviting. Bruce let the bike's momentum carry them inside; Alfred was waiting in the shadows, sliding the door shut and moving to support him.
~*~
Alfred helped Bruce pull off his mask, dropping it and other parts of the armor to the floor of the elevator. The bright lights of the lower deck seemed blinding after the darkness of the night. Bruce blinked and stared at the woman scrubbing down one of his steel work tables.
"When did we get a maid?" He joked in a rough voice. Alfred sighed and helped him limp forwards.
"This is Doctor Carson, Sophia Carson. She will be helping patch you up tonight." Bruce stiffened sharply, his eyes narrowed, taking stock of the woman. Long red hair was pulled back from a plain round face. Brilliant blue eyes and a splash of freckles warmed her features. She smile softly and continues wiping down the table. She had long fingers, which moved with deliberate grace.
"Please have a seat, Mr. Wayne." She indicated the table and stepped back to a tray of surgical tools.
~*~
Bruce remained rooted, the pain had faded briefly, fear overwhelming him for a moment. If this woman talked, shared his secret with anyone, he could be found out. All that he worked for would be lost. Suddenly he felt naked without his mask, like a child torn away from its security blanket. The woman's eyes softened and she spread her hands wide.
"I know you are afraid of me exposing you." Her voice was soft, warm and reassuring.
"You have no reason to trust me." She murmured, taking a step closer.
"I could tell you all my life's story, and it wouldn't change a thing. You have to decide whether you want to get on that table, or not." She regarded him calmly, not moving any closer.
"If you don't want my help, I'll go, and not breathe a word of this to anyone; you have my word, sworn on my honor." The sincerity in her voice broke through the haze of gray that had crept over Bruce's vision. He nodded slowly and took an unsteady step towards the table.
"Okay." His voice cracked, falling off, but she leapt to action, pulling on gloves and helping Alfred shift him onto the table.
~*~
Alfred watched the cornered Bruce Wayne agree to accept her help, his heart leapt for the briefest moment; this was a step in the right direction. Maybe with just a little help, this darkness would fade.