"Hey, babe, what're you doing?" I say contentedly as I walk into the Batcave. I see my handsome guy sitting at his workbench and, unfortunately, he's wearing a shirt. Well, I guess I should look on the bright side. After all, he's wearing a tank top which is less than a t-shirt. I approach him from behind and wrap my arms around his neck, my hands touching his front. I wait a few seconds then decide I've had enough. "Hey! Talk to me, Bruce! What's your problem?" He simply grunts in reply. I frown and walk to the side of his chair.
I wonder who peed in his Cheerios. I mean, someone taking a whizz in your cereal could get anyone in a bad mood, but not in one bad enough where someone would just ignore the love of their life. Jeez, if someone crapped in mine I wouldn't be irritated at Bruce and I'd still respond to whatever he had to say.
"Are you mad or what?" He gives me his sad, forlorn Bruce face and I know that something must be terribly amiss. "Baby, what's wrong?" I place my hand on the side of his face and look into his eyes. Bruce closes them and takes my hand that is resting on his face.
"Dinah, he's dying," Bruce says, refusing to look at me. I stare wide-eyed at him. Who in the heck is dying around here? It can't be Dick, Tim, or Damian.
"Who's dying?" I ask, trying not to let the panic I'm feeling slip into my voice. Bruce now responds, extremely quietly. If I wasn't listening, I wouldn't have picked up on it.
"Alfred." I gape and open my mouth to try to say something but nothing comes out.
Alfred can't be dying. He's a tough old goat. Nothing ever gets to him. Not even when Damian and Dick make a mess of the place when Dick comes over and stays when Bruce has hurt himself. Seriously. You would not believe the messes they can make when they decide to play chase. It's like having a couple of teenagers and multiplying the possible amount of messes made by ten. Cushion off of the sofas on the floor, all of the blankets wrinkled on the beds in the guest bedrooms. And that's not even counting the messes made in the kitchen. Hoo, boy. Do not ever let them loose together in the kitchen and I mean never ever!
Anyways, back to me staring at Bruce with my mouth wide open and a look on my face that is so stupid, it could rival Green Arrow's when I told him he was a selfish, cheating son of a- ahem, for the benefit of the children I shall change the word I actually used when I first said it- witch. I finally manage to squeak out a word or two.
"Alfred?!" I yelp.
"Yes, Alfred," Bruce closes his eyes and when he said it I knew he was having problems being the usual unfeeling self that he always is.
"What's wrong with him?" I ask carefully. I know that I am treading thin ice by speaking of this subject and if I push him past his limit he'll close up on me.
"He's in the third stage of lung cancer… I'm afraid he won't be with us much longer," Bruce says with a heavy sigh. I turn his chair around so that it is facing toward me. I kneel down between his legs and take his face into my hands. I think for a moment but I come up with absolutely nothing to say to him. If Alfred's practically at death's door, things are going to get ugly. Really ugly. Bruce opens his eyes and looks at me finally. Those beautiful sparkling blue eyes. The pools of sapphire that are now filled with a deep sadness and depression that I'm becoming increasingly afraid that I won't be able to fix.
"Dinah, what do I do? I can't let Alfred die. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop it." I watch in amazement and sadness as a tear gently slips down his cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb and I bring myself to my feet. I remove my hands from his face and grab his hands in mine. I gently guide him up. He gets up and follows as if I am his only line to escaping from the emotional torture that he's suffering.
I have never seen Bruce so upset before. Not even when he was in such a lather about Barbara when she got shot. He was like a walking thunderstorm then, but when he was alone, I could tell how worried he was for her and how upset he seemed. But it was nothing like it is now.
I pull him along behind me toward the elevator. I tug him in and press the button that sends it up. I turn and wrap my arms around his middle. My poor, poor Bruce. The only thing I can think of right now to cheer him up is to just cuddle with him on the bed and provide as much comfort as I can.
The elevator has arrived to the bottom floor of Wayne Manor. I continue to guide him until we reach his room. I look around. I'm terribly afraid that we're going to run into Alfred then we're going to have to explain why Bruce looks so sad and then it's just going to be, heh, heh, a "big mess." An even bigger "big mess" than I was in four months ago.
Finally, after what seems like an endless game of "Peekaboo Around the Corners and Hope That You Don't See Alfred," Bruce and I arrive at his bedroom. I open the door and gently push him in. He moves slowly and I can see the depression that is taking over his entire psyche. I walk in and shut and lock the door behind me. He sits down on the bed with a sigh. I come over and plop down gently beside him.
"Oh, Bruce." He lays down on the bed with me and I sadly drape one arm across his chest and snuggle into his side.
Moments like this are so nice. It's not often that he'll settle down long enough to relax with me. Gotham always needs it savior. But what Bruce doesn't realize is that I need mine. Not a savior exactly, unless his affection can qualify as saving. Hmm. That's an idea.
"Are you sure there's nothing we can do to help it?" I ask. I feel him sigh.
"No. There isn't. I've searched everywhere. Everywhere, Dinah. There is no cure, help, or saving him. I've… I've failed him." He closes his eyes. The despair is emanating off of him and I feel absolutely rotten on the inside. When he's sad, I'm sad. I guess misery is lonely and wants company.
"Bruce. It'll be okay. You still have me, Dick, Tim, Barbara, Damian – all of us. We all care about you. I love you so much. I hate it when you hurt. It hurts me terribly." He holds my hand that's resting on his chest and stares at the ceiling. I close my eyes and try to mentally send happiness to him. A bit stupid, I must admit, but I hope it works anyway.
Just as I feel my mind slipping into the blissful, worry-free state of sleep, Bruce speaks to me.
"You don't have to stay in this, you know." I open my eyes quickly and stare at him.
"What?" I ask, confused. What the heck is he talking about?
"In my world. You deserve better. Better than I can ever give you. And if you want to leave, I'm not stopping you. I don't want you to, but I love you enough to let you go." I gawk at him dumbly and my eyes are as big as saucers. Doesn't Bruce know I'd never leave him, no matter what the problem, complication, or anything? I suppose he doesn't because he has this sad puppy face. Men are so clueless. I'd better tell him.
"Bruce, I would never leave you. Ever. You are so wonderful. You give me all I need and I don't want to leave. You're my guy." I grin at the thought of my next sentence. "You're my Bat." Bruce smiled. At least I've managed to bring a little joy to his world. Although that is a short-lived victory because he is now frowning once again. My grin dwindles down to a solemn look. I lay my hand on the side of his face and he looks up at me. "We're gonna get through this together… No matter what happens." Bruce allows a very faint smile to slide across his face before he just pulls me closer to him. My poor, poor Bruce.
…...
"Hello, old friend," Bruce says quietly as he kneels down. I get down beside him and put my hand on his shoulder. "I… I'm sorry I couldn't save you. You were like a father to me. The best I could have considering that my true father is dead. When I fell, you were there to bring me back onto my feet. When I cried, you willingly offered your shoulder to me." Bruce chuckles a bit. "When I ran, you dragged my rear back. When I was hurt, you healed me." Bruce is quiet for a moment and I allow a tear to slide down my cheek.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is… thank you. For all that you've done for me. I know I was a stubborn, irritating, hard-to-live-with kind-of guy, but if you can I… I ask you to forgive me for that." Bruce is silent and I watch a teardrop fall to the ground.
"I also hope you can forgive me for not asking Dinah to marry me while you were still here. I didn't disobey you completely though. You always told me that Dinah was a one-of-a-kind sort of girl and that I should spend the rest of my life with her. I did some thinking… and I asked her. Today, in fact." He looks at me happily. I smile back at him.
"She agreed, amazingly and we're supposed to have our wedding in a month. I… I'm sure you approve of my choice." Bruce stands up and I rise beside him. "I just came here to say: I'll miss you so much. I hope that you can look down and see me and Dinah… and feel proud of us. I love you, Alfred. Goodbye." He turns quickly and begins to walk away. I run to his side and hug his arm. This man is so special and I am so happy to be with him. Bruce is my love. And I'm- heh, heh- the Bat's love.
THE END! Hello, everyone! I'm so sorry that I made you all wait for this update for so long! The inspiration slowly crawls inside of me and when it hits it hits but when it doesn't I can't do anything. XD I hope you all enjoyed this! It's the grand finale to "A Big Mess" and "The Identity of the Bat." Read, review, and most importantly have a great night!