Welcome to the first chapter of my story! I hope you enjoy it, happy reading.
She could hear the sound of a sharp wolf whistle from her bedroom and it was enough to get the girl to stand up and come around and blearily enter the hallway. Eleanor was coming into her own at twelve, she was just barely grazing five feet, smooth skin, with the very start of femininity beginning to set in. Her father's eyes matching her mothers soft complexion and the long dark brown hair falling to her elbows, which always seemed to be pulled back into a ponytail or bun. She was beautiful, the white dove of Gotham, though she didn't much look it when she walked into the hallway.
Eleanor wore fluffy pajama bottoms and a loose t-shirt she'd claimed from Dick once he'd outgrown it. Her bare feet padding softly on the hallways thick carpeting stopped abruptly when she took in the sight of the boy before her. They were around the same height, but everything about him screamed neglect. His clothes were covered in a thin coating of dirt, red pants with a plethora of rips and tears, the heels of his shoes were beginning to peel away. The kid wore a Poison Idea band sweatshirt under a blue jean jacket, and black hair with a white streak through it in a disarray on his head.
He was looking everywhere he could somewhat between a what can I steal and a holy shit this is awesome. When he saw her however they locked eyes, his meeting her challenging orbs matching the same kind of energy that hummed through his body. "Who is this Alfred?" Nell pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at the astute butler standing behind their new guest.
At first he only raised an eyebrow back before responding, "Mistress Eleanor it's nearly four in the morning, what are you doing awake?"
Scuffing her toes against the carpet she muttered an unwilling response, "Nightmares are back." It had been years since she'd begun having them, endless dreams about her phobia. They'd gotten so bad in fact when she was younger she often found herself curled up in Dick's bed where he'd find her when he awoke in the morning. He'd only just smile and pat her head, then send the small girl back on her way. After the first time she'd done so a stuffed octopus in a tutu, had appeared on her bed with one of those holiday bows that you stick on presents stuck on it's head.
Mr. Eight was still currently sitting there next to her wrinkled pillow and she had finally decided to speak to a therapist about it. "Of course, mistress. This is Master Jason Todd, he'll be staying with us."
"For how long?" She took a few steps closer to the two looking at Jason more closely. The kid was pretty beat up, split lip, cut under one eye, a small limp; her father wouldn't have done this but he did seem to come off as a Gotham street rat.
Alfred held back a small smile thinking back when Eleanor and Dick themselves had come to live in the manor and the life in which they gave the Wayne home. "It is your father's plan, my dear, to have him stay indefinitely as the next Robin." Jason started when Alfred spoke looking up at the older man in surprise.
This however was already her assumption. "Dick's leaving in a couple of weeks so that makes sense." She nodded to the boy now close enough for casual conversation. "I'm Eleanor Wayne." She held out her hand to shake his own, it took him a second to register before his callused hand slid into her equally rough one. He'd expected her hands to feel smooth and girly, to see nail polish on her fingernails but all he saw were a couple of marker stains. "Welcome to your new home. I'm always here," She pointed to her bedroom door, "If you need anything, also if you get lost, no worries everyone does." She gave him a casual wink before walking back to her bedroom door. "Goodnight."
The genuine kindness of her words took him by surprise as Alfred, the house butler, gestured him inside. The room was huge, bigger than any place he'd ever lived or squatted in his lifetime. There was a giant four poster bed to the right against the center of the wall, a reading area on the opposite side, plenty of empty shelves. There were two doors on the far left for a closet and bathroom he could only assume. Rugs laid out over red-brown wooden flooring, there was even a small exercise area across from the reading space. "Nice digs."
The next morning Eleanor was roused from her late slumber by a hearty knock on the door, groaning she threw her legs off the edge of the bed and stumbled toward the door wiping her eyes. It was to her great surprise to find Jason Todd standing in front of her door, wearing the same dusty outfit as before just slightly more wrinkled. "Hey."
Yawning she leaned again the door frame looking at him curiously. He was around her age, but he seemed older. Maybe it was the stern look in his eyes, the muscular frame he had, the sharp if slightly bruised jaw line, or perhaps the two tone hair. Something about the rugged boy made her smile, she didn't really have friends having spent her whole life locked up in Wayne Manor. She left to dance, to the occasional party, and to Wayne Enterprises but Dick had been her only companion through the years. It felt good to meet someone her own age.
"Good morning." Eleanor rolled her shoulders closing the door to her bedroom as she left the room. "Did you sleep okay?"
He blinked for a long second before responding. "Yeah."
"Not a man of many words are you." She chuckled punching him lightly in the shoulder noticing the way he flinched, fingers twitching as if he was holding himself back from blocking. "I like you already. My friends generally call me some sort of nickname like Nell or Nelly, feel free to call me whatever." She gave him her best smile as they walked down the hallways toward the kitchen. Each step like muscle memory to a girl who'd spent her childhood bolting through these walls.
It felt odd to be accepted so readily, Jason had spent his whole life like the runt of the litter forever fighting over table scraps. She wasn't mocking him, Jason knew when he was being mocked. Even her punch hadn't even hurt. "So uh Nell, you seem to know a bit about the Bat."
Hearing the open ended phrasing she chuckled for a moment before responding turning the corner. "I'd hope so. He's my father, biologically before you ask and no I don't want to talk about my bitch of a mother. Think of me as the gadget master, I build the tools you'll be using when you're out there. You break it, I'll fix it. It's kind of my crappy Rosie the Riveter take on helping out where I can." He had to hold back a snort at that looking at her curiously, he'd seen some of the Bat's gadgets, she was playing with some heavy equipment.
"Hey, Nelly. Sleepy head!" Dick's voice echoed down the hall as he walked toward her, wearing blue jeans, a black t-shirt and leather riding jacket. "You're late." Jason stiffened up at the sight curling his hands into fists as Dick wrapped an arm around her shoulders mussing her hair.
"The fuck are you?" The hostility dripped from Jason's voice as his body tensed shifting into an offensive position.
Letting out a laugh at the antagonistic words Dick just raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "So you're the kid replacing me huh? He bothering you princess?" Dick looked toward the lady of the house as she swiftly shook her head no. "Alright, kitchens the next left, Jason. And you don't think I'm going to let you skip out on training today, you've got tryouts coming up in four days." He tossed the girl a granola bar with a smile. "Let's go prima ballerina."
And like that she sent Jason a quick wave and was off with Dick down the hallway they'd come from. He could see her laughing as they rounded the corner, deciding to shrug it off Jason headed into the kitchen the sweet smell of breakfast drifting through the air. The kitchen was huge plenty of stainless steel appliances, marble counter tops, a fridge he could legit walk in. How much shit did one man need. "Good morning, Master Jason. It's waffles this morning. Would you like milk, orange juice, or water with breakfast?"
Rolling his eyes Jason pushed back his hair the white sliding into the black strands. "Rum?" He rebuked reaching into his jean pocket to pull out the carton of cigarettes, only to have them promptly snatched away by Alfred. "Hey!"
Alfred only raised a stern eyebrow and slipped the pack into the inside of his jacket. "Master Bruce would have your head. Orange juice it is." Pouring the glass expertly Alfred slid it across the counter at the young man sizing him up. He was far more wild than Dick or Eleanor had been, but Alfred was never the kind to run from a challenge after all he was the one who took care of Batman. "We'll go shopping for some new clothes after you eat."
Meanwhile several hours later across the manor Eleanor was still spinning, she'd spun so much today she felt dizzy as Dick's trainer voice came across the room telling her to do it again. It was the hardest move she'd ever had to learn a triple turn ending in a kick before spinning one more time in the other direction. It was advanced for her age, but Eleanor was an advanced type of girl never settling for being just the best.
She reveled in being a record breaker, and Dick loved to watch the girl dance. He'd known her since she was a baby, now twelve years old if felt like he'd known her his whole life. "You're so close. Come on try it again." Trying she whipped herself around only to lose balance and crumple to the floor bashing her knee hard enough to feel the vibration. Dick had jumped out of his chair before she'd even bent her leg out. "Shit. Don't move I'll get the med kit."
Unfazed as always she nodded just glad to have a break from all the spinning watching the blood run down her ankle, it dripped slow and steady catching and staining her sock. It wasn't bad, she knew that much, having gotten good at recognizing it, this was just some ripped off skin. Despite knowing better she watched Dick flounder around with the supplies just like Alfred did when she was injured. They knew she couldn't feel it but that small paternal part of their brains just panicked anyway. It always managed to make the girl smile.
"I'm okay you goof." Her voice was soft as Dick carried the supplies back over to her carefully cleaning the wound. Soon she was all cleaned up with band-aid and all. She could remember the few times her father had taken care for her injuries. The one that stood out most in her mind was when she was quite young and had been bitten by a possum she'd tried to befriend. She'd taken the bleeding bite mark to her father in his office. He'd been on the phone so she'd just held the wound to keep the blood from getting on the carpet and waited.
When he'd finally noticed her, still on the phone after fifteen good minutes of her waiting patiently, he'd seen the blood and quickly hung up reaching to pull a first aid kit out of his desk. He'd treated it calmly asking her what had bitten her and how long she'd been waiting. When she'd told him Bruce had given her a stern look lifting the little girls chin up. "If you're hurt, don't wait. It's my job to do this stuff. It's a dad thing and no more possums okay."
Looking down at her bandaged knee she smiled at the memory, though she never called him dad it felt good to hear him say it. "Hey Dick?" He glanced up at her waiting for the question. "Will you take me to therapy?" She wouldn't admit it out loud but Eleanor was nervous, she didn't talk to people about her nightmares. All her family really knew was she didn't like owls, she hated and avoided them with a vengeance.
She didn't need to say it to ask, so Dick just ruffled her hair with a small grin. "Sure thing. We need to leave soon anyway, why don't you change." His voice was gentle as he held out his hand to help her up watching the young girl walk into her bedroom. She exited wearing a pair of blue jeans, a soft red sweater, with red boots to match. They walked down to the garage together Dick giving Alfred a wave as they left. Sliding onto the black bike he gestured for her to follow, with a helmet of course, he didn't want to face Bruce's rage again, as they rode down the curving driveway to the exit of the manor.
Eleanor loved being on the back of the bike her hands lightly holding onto Dick's waist, legs tightening with the turns. When she was old enough she was determined to build herself one. The city looked beautiful in this part of Gotham all new buildings and ritzy apartment complexes, but as they headed downward the perfect roads were replaced by the expected potholed roads of older Gotham. People walked or took the elaborate train system set up by her grandparents to and from businesses hoping to save on gas with prices being jacked up again. There was something about watching the city as if she wasn't one of them that felt like watching a social experiment play out or going to the theater to see a really bad movie.
The buildings slowly depreciated in value watching as they passed the large abandoned building that was once Cobblepot Manor. Seeing it so close to falling in the sea made the smile fade from her face as they rode closer to her destination somewhat further out of the city, Arkham Asylum in all of its glory. It was her first time seeing the high walls of the nuthouse, black stone with some buildings left to rot while others were being refinished, she could see people working in scaffolding in certain areas funded she was sure by her father.
Her hands tightened on Dick's waist as the trepidation set in, coming to park in one of the guest spots. The woman hopped down taking off the helmet and straightening her hair before waiting for Dick to do the same. They walked in together as a team, him holding the door open for her that same goofy supportive look as always. He had no reservations on taking her to this part of the facility, knowing for fact the inmates were housed elsewhere in a different building. Bruce had made sure of that when making her the appointment, the last thing any of them wanted was for her to be stuck in the Asylum during one of it's many crisises. "Ready?" He whispered to her straightening his back when they walked up to the reception counter.
The woman behind it was only a few years older than Dick, causing that forever noticeable flirty smile to appear on his face. "Hello." She blushed when she saw him glancing at her computer. "We've got an appointment at 3 o'clock with a uh Dr. Crane."
The woman cleared her throat and Eleanor had to try hard not to roll her eyes. "May I ask you name?"
Dick chuckled leaning closer, "Dick Grayson, but the appointment is for this lovely lady Eleanor Wayne." At the name the woman jerked her head over to the girl taking in the sight of the Wayne heir in surprise.
"Oh, wow okay. Um, pleased to meet you Miss Wayne." She floundered for a moment. "If you could please fill out this paperwork." The clipboard was handed to Dick then passed over to the girl in question as they made their way over to the seating area. They'd already talked about having someone come to the house but it had been Eleanor herself who had insisted on going to a facility, stating that it didn't matter who she was. If Gotham wanted to make it a big deal then she'd just have to change the way they viewed mental illness.
So there she was filling out her information on a clipboard as if they didn't already know all of it. Others in the waiting room had already begun to take notice whispering back and forth as she returned the paperwork to the woman promptly sitting back down next to Dick placing her ankle up against his own subtly watching him slowly start to smile before pushing the expression away going back to flip through the magazine he'd been looking at. Women's Health.
It seemed as always the Wayne family did not wait long. "Miss Wayne, Dr. Crane will see you now." Dick gave her a quick pat on the back as she stood.
"I'll be right out in the waiting room and if you want me in there with you, just say the word." She gave him a soft smile before following the nurse, Dick would forever have her back she knew that, counted on it. They walked down a small hallway with old carpet and white walls until they came to a white door just like all the others. He was already inside when the woman opened the door sitting there in his chair. It was much nicer on the inside with thick carpeting and beige walls with two large bookcases and a sofa across from the armchair with an end table between the two.
The man stood when he saw her, his eyes a vibrant blue eyes drinking her in, he wore a cheap suit. She could tell because the jacket sleeves were a hair too short and the fabric was obviously polyester. "Hello, Miss Wayne." He held out his hand for a quick shake before offering her a seat as the door was quickly closed. "Would you like something to drink? I have water, juice, Zesti Cola?" He looked at her curiously waiting for a response.
"Uh juice sounds good, thank you." She crossed her legs politely taking the juice box that was offered her.
He sat back down so they were across from each other. "You seem nervous, Eleanor? May I call you Eleanor?" After giving a confirmation nod she leaned back in the chair taking a long deep breath to try and settle her nerves. "May I ask why?"
Licking her bottom lip she looked up at him, "I've never talked to anyone about," She waved her hand around the room and toward herself. "About my problems I guess."
He nodded crisscrossing his fingers in front of him an elbow on each knee as he leaned forward. "I understand." Jonathan gave her a wide smile, this is what he did. Tried to get people to understand everything about themselves, their fears, their hopes, all the little things in between. "It'll seem strange for awhile, but know that anything you say here, in my office. It's between us. All your secrets remain your secrets. I am only here to help you."
Feeling a little bit better she allowed her breathing to calm. "So where would you like to start? I don't really know what to say."
"Ah of course, let's start from the foundation shall we. Break it down into sections, your base beginnings. Tell me about your relationship with your parents?"
She paused for a moment understanding that this was something she needed to be careful with, her mother well there wasn't much to say about the ghost in her life and well her father, to Jonathan Crane he needed to be billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, not Batman. "I don't know who my mother is, my father never really told me. I've asked before but he always said she left me on his doorstep, with a note saying she didn't want me."
Nibbling on her lip she choose the following words carefully, "My father well he's a busy man and as you know an active one. He's not around much, so I was taken care of by Alfred most of my life and Dick too of course."
"Your adopted brother?" He confirmed.
"Yes, Dick is wonderful. He'd actually waiting for me in the waiting room. I asked him to take me." She took a sip of her juice quietly waiting for the next question, happy it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.
"So my file here says you sought counseling because of night terrors." He looked up from the paper, this was always his favorite part. "It seems your fears are following you into her dreams. What are you afraid of, Eleanor?" He tried hard to keep the interest off of his face, but this was the best question to ask a patient, his favorite question and when it came to Gotham's white dove oh he wanted to know what got her screaming in terror at night.
Eleanor fell quiet for a long while as Jonathan waited 'patiently' for her response. "I'm afraid of . . . owls." She stared down at her hands in embarrassment. To have such an incredibly base and unnatural fear bothered her, she was the daughter of Batman. She wasn't afraid of dying, or being kidnapped which had already happened twice in her life. She was afraid of a small seemingly harmless creature.
Doctor Crane could have sung out loud when she told him, he could have danced in pure glee. Instead he calmed the shaking of his hands and gave her a professional look. "It's nothing to be afraid of, plenty of patients in the world have fears of different animals. I once knew a man who was deathly afraid of calendars, well in a way. Were you attacked by an owl when you were young?"
She looked up at him catching his eye before shaking her head. "No, nothing like that. I've barely ever even seen an owl, but every time I have. I just freeze up and this sensation fills me. Like I'm going to vomit and pass out all at the same time. It gets hard to breathe, and it's hard to force myself to move or stop looking at it." Eleanor rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. "Did you know that owls eat bats? I always found that strange, I mean rats and mice sure. But to go after another flying creature, to tear through its soft skin." She tapered off feeling the nausea rise.
"It's alright, Eleanor. I promise there are no owls in my office, nor bats." He gave her a small laugh leaning back in his chair. "Tell me, what are some of your hobbies?"
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