Chapter Ten – The Morning the World Ended, part 2

"Where is he?" She found Alfred in the kitchen; the radio on, and Alfred's hips slowly swaying to its beat.

Alfred looked at her from the stove and frowned.

"Dammit Alfred, I don't care! Gordon's just told me that the world has pretty much ended but before I can accept that I need to speak to him." She shouted in retort.

"I didn't say anything." Alfred responded looking back to the pot he was working with.

"Alfred! Please take me to him. You know I'll go and look for him anyway, with or without your help."

Alfred sighed and switched off the hot plate. "Let me see the Commissioner out first. Get yourself something to eat from the fridge; the yoghurt is delicious." He left the kitchen, leaving her to stare at the fridge and wonder.

Above, she heard Alfred apologize for Rachel's rudeness and see Gordon out. She also heard Gordon respond that he understood her mindset given what he had told her about Harvey. A few minutes later Alfred was back in the kitchen, coat and keys in hand.

-xXx-

She was seething, but not with rage. Everything she had ever known about Bruce, about Harvey, hell even about Jim Gordon, everything had changed. She didn't know anymore how she felt or who she felt it for. But one thing was certain, she knew that her relationship with Harvey was over, and not just because he was dead.

The moment Gordon confirmed what she already knew, that Harvey had killed Maroni, she knew that no matter what happened in the end, she and Harvey could no longer be together.

He had been the best, the smartest, and one of the goodliest people that she had ever met, and those were the aspects of him that she was attracted to; not his good looks, high paying salary, or that fabulous apartment that overlooked the bay. But now he was truly one of the worst people.

She remembered the day Joe Chill died; what she had said to Bruce about the difference between Justice and Revenge. She realized, upon his return, that he got the message, although he handed out Justice in a slightly warped way.

But Harvey, the man who had always believed in Justice, and had to push the worst men into the courtroom, no matter how heavy or light the evidence, had gone out and killed at least two men in acts of revenge.

"Are you alright, Rachel?" Alfred asked her, surprising her out of her reverie. She touched her face and realized she was crying.

"I'm just thinking. I didn't realize my thoughts were affecting me." She responded, looking out the window and realizing they were heading in the opposite direction of the bunker. "Where are we going?"

Alfred looked at her. "I'm surprised you haven't already realized." He smiled.

"I've been thinking about a lot of things; I haven't really been noticing the surroundings." She responded.

"Given the magnitude of last nights events, Bruce will not be at the bunker; it's the wrong environment to deal with this type of news. I would have expected him to come to the penthouse, but he will likely want to be alone, and this leaves Wayne Manor." Alfred explained.

She sighed, staring out the car window as Alfred sped along the freeway. "I thought it wasn't finished yet?"

"Of course not; do you expect that a house like Wayne Manor could very easily be rebuilt in a year? No! But there is enough construction completed to make it safe, to some, livable, and to others, a memory restored."

Rachel nodded, not fully understanding, but understanding enough of Alfred's logic to understand why Bruce would be there.

A few minutes later they were on the main driveway, and then they were there. Rachel took a moment, as she always did, to take in the monument that was the home of Gotham's royal family, and afterwards, realized that she knew exactly where Bruce would be.

-xXx-

Whilst from the outside, the Manor looked complete, the inside was a completely different story. A maze of building materials, ladders, and scaffolding obscured what would be the great entrance hall. Weaving amongst the rubble Rachel darted up the stairs and along the many corridors until she saw it, the master bedroom.

Slowly approaching it, she saw him within, sitting on a folding chair staring into the room. There was a muffled noise from within, but she couldn't make out for certain what it was.

"Bruce?" She stood tentatively in the doorway watching him. It was like a mirror of the morning she walked in, back from the dead. His body held the same way, staring at the mask of Batman, except this time, he didn't jump up when he heard her voice. He suddenly became, once again and to her horror, the lost boy he had been for so many years, despising the world and hating who he was.

She approached him slowly. In the corner she saw a small black radio and realized that was what was making the noise. Then she heard Gordon's voice, offering what sounded like a eulogy.

"Do you remember what Harvey said, that night at dinner; how you either die a hero or become the villain, did you ever think or believe that would happen to Batman?" He asked her.

There was a small, two person couch opposite him, and she took a seat on it, reaching over, placed her hand on his. How could she admit always envisioning Batman as the villain? The first moment she met him he scared her, and ever since, seeing him, hearing him, she found it easy to forget just who it was underneath the mask.

Bruce looked up at her weakly, recognizing her silence as an admission. "You did, didn't you." She knew he wasn't angry, his tone was too heavy, too quiet to be angry.

"I hoped that day wouldn't come." She responded.

He nodded but she could see he wasn't convinced. It was true, she had never seen Batman as being someone who would be around forever, how could he? She had always tried to imagine Batman ending, being a memory as Gotham's savior. He would disappear as quickly as he had appeared; they would be together, something they had both wanted for a long time.

The radio continued to crackle with Gordon's voice. Neither Bruce nor Rachel spoke, but neither did they listen. It was just noise, filling the empty space.

The voice changed to a news reporter telling how Harvey Dent was dead; how a police detective was dead, and that the car accident from the previous day, were all results of Batman. He continued saying that the police were now stepping up their efforts to catch him.

Rachel looked at the floor as Bruce stood up, walked to the corner, and turned the radio off.

"Bruce?" She didn't know what she wanted to say, she could only hope that the sudden change in people's views of Batman wouldn't change him; wouldn't make his appearance revert to who he used to be.

"Harvey didn't deserve this;" Bruce spoke suddenly. "He was the hero; the hope; the salvation. He was everything Batman couldn't be, he was real; he had a face." She looked up as he spoke. She had never heard him like this, or at least not as an adult. It scared her.

She had spent years trying to get over the teenage crush she had had for him, and his absence made her believe it was gone. The other men that came into her life seemed to prove it. But then he returned, and he was different, she saw that in the news reports: 'The Prince of Gotham, Alive!' She would never forget those headlines, the news footage she would see when she turned on the TV; it was always of him, getting in Limousines or Bentley's or Rolls', getting out of sports cars, always surrounded by an entourage of blonde beauties, bombshells and bimbos.

And then she finally saw him in the flesh; he almost looked through her, and that was what sent her to the bathroom to ball her eyes out, not chastising him about his actions. Since learning who he really was, or who Batman really was, she had always regretted it.

"Harvey was my ticket out of the suit; he was the person Batman counted on more than anyone else. He was the key to my freedom…and you." He added, almost as an afterthought, making her bite her lip. She still hadn't told him the truth, hadn't told him she was going to choose Harvey over him, for all the reasons he had just said.

She stood up and turned away, how could she tell a man at the gates of despair that she had chosen another man? It would push him over the edge, and she couldn't do that; she couldn't do that to the one person who made her feel safest in the entire world.

"To the people, the Joker lost; he chose Harvey to fall, because he was the best of us. But in reality, the Joker won, because he removed Batman; destroyed him. Turned him into the criminal he truly is." It was at his last words that made her rush to him, forcing herself to his front and forcing his eyes to look at her.

"Don't say that!" She held his head in her hands, centimeters from her own. "The Joker did nothing of the sort. Wait until people begin to question the timing; wait until the police begin to question Gordon. So many members of Gotham's crime fighters have seen what Batman does and won't believe for a moment that you would kill a dirty cop, assault another, and kill head members of the Mob.

"How will they believe that at the same time you were fighting the Joker, saving the lives of passengers on two boats, you were able to be across town threatening Gordon's family? No one will believe it." She shook him as she made some of her points, trying to get through to him, and she would be incredibly surprised if any of it did (as much as she hoped it would) because she still knew too much of his character.

He merely smiled down at her sadly, lifting his hands to her wrists and moving her arms from his face, before stepping away.

"Bruce," she spoke to him as he continued walking. "Please don't become the old Bruce Wayne. I won't be able to stand it."

-xXx-

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