"I'm Alfred, miss."

The voice came from somewhere in the car's dashboard: it was deep and pleasant, undeniably British. It showed, however, both apprehension and urgency.

"We're in the car…", Selina said, unsure of what to do, or if she was even supposed to be there. "Batman and I, we…"

"Yes, miss. I understand." There was a pause, and when he proceeded, the graveness in his tone was almost palpable. "Is he hurt, miss?"

"He was shot."

She wanted to say more than that, perhaps give him more details, but she discovered she couldn't. Turning to look at Batman, passed out on the passenger's seat next to her, she realized how little she knew about him; that man speaking to her, however, seemed like someone that knew very well what he was talking about, and who he was dealing with. To begin with, he didn't seem surprised to be talking to her – a woman he had never met before, alone in the car with a badly wounded Batman.

"Is he unconscious?" He proceeded; now there was a straightforward objectivity in his tone, like the talk had suddenly become a very professional conversation.

"Yeah", she answered. "Yeah, he just blacked out again…"

"I need you to do something for me, miss." He warned, speaking softly and in clear, marked words. "But first, I'll turn on the car and set its course; it will take just a moment…"

"It's 'course'? What do you mean? Where…?"

"For now, let's just avert the police."

Cops; right, that was actually a good call, Selina admitted. The car accelerated all by itself, moving through the park in unbelievable speed. Meanwhile, Alfred spoke again:

"Miss?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I need you to tell me about his wound, miss. Did you see how it happened? And what part of his body was hit?"

"I saw." She leaned over Batman to study him closely. "He was shot… by no ordinary gun. It pierced his armor. I think it came through his back and out of his chest…"

She ran a hand over his thorax, easily finding a hole in his armor on the left side, just below his collarbone; it was about one inch of diameter. On his back, where there was considerably less blood, she identified a smaller hole; it was perhaps half an inch below his scapula, and dangerously close to his spine. As she probed the wound, however gently, she felt him flinch under her touch, letting escape a gruff growl from the back of his throat.

"I'm so sorry", she apologized, leaving the wound be and approaching his face. He coughed and took a deep breath, coughing even harder after; it seemed to be very painful to him, drawing air, but some color returned to his face as he did it. To Selina's horror, his breath was accompanied by an unpleasant hiss, and a mist of diminutive blood drops formed around his mouth and nose as he let air out.

"Miss?" The voice from the radio called. "Sir? Are you awake?"

"Alfred…" His voice was almost inaudible, a hoarse and faint sound. He leaned over to get closer to the dashboard, supporting himself with his right arm. "The garage… come… need you to… come."

"Sir...! If the description this lady gave of your wound is accurate, there isn't much I can do for you…! You need to get admitted to a hospital as soon as possible and undergo surge…"

"No!" The effort to emphasize this negative caused him to cough once again, this time expelling a few dark clots of blood. "Not Batman… not as… Batman…"

"Oh, God", Selina moaned. "This is so bad… Please, Mr. Alfred, whoever you are, just take us to this garage or wherever he wants to go, okay?"

There was a second of silence before the man finally answered:

"As you wish, sir." He was clearly discontent by the outcome of things, but there was something very dignifying in his obedience.

"Thank you… Al… fred…", mumbled Batman while leaning back on his seat, turning his torso to lay on his side.

If the man had disconnected his contact with them or not Selina wouldn't be able to tell; he said nothing else, though, and she presumed that was because he would have to drive or do whatever he needed to get to the place Batman had called the 'garage'. She also realized that the car now moved through Gotham's streets, its trajectory showing in a screen at the center of the dashboard, much like a GPS device. For the moment, she was glad there was no need to drive the thing anywhere - though she would probably have enjoyed that in different circumstances -, and she could just keep her attention on him.

He was conscious for the moment, she noticed, though he kept his eyes fiercely shut; probably a way of getting hold of the pain, Selina deduced, not allowing himself to panic or surrender to unconsciousness. She thought it was pretty remarkable that he hadn't fallen into shock yet, given the amount of blood loss and the extension of the injury, but truth was that he was a remarkable man - in every way imagined. Ever since she first heard about Batman, she knew that was no ordinary man; she knew he would be someone smart, resourceful, trained and stubborn – and she was right about all those things. What she never figured, never imagined, was how good he was. He wasn't just skilled: he was a man of character. A good person.

And, to her own dismay, she admired that.

"Selina", he called her.

"I'm here."

"The bag…" He struggled to say, faintly gesturing towards the back of the vehicle. "Black… bag…"

"Got it", she quickly announced. It had been easy to spot it, something similar to a gym bag on the floor. Without waiting for him to ask, she opened it and searched through the contents.

She soon realized the bag contained medical equipment, though she wasn't particularly familiar with most of the instruments and drugs. Despite all her years doing what she did, she had very little experience with treating wounds; her goal had always been inflicting wounds at others and avoiding them in her. That's why she had merely a general knowledge of a few emergency procedures, and definitely no idea if she could be able to help him in some way right now.

"I… I don't know what to… I don't know how…" She experienced a rare feeling of helplessness, something she didn't remember feeling since her childhood.

He seemed exhausted, covered in cold sweat, his lips turning blue, chin and hands trembling out of his control. Still, he managed to whisper:

"Red… tube."

It took her few seconds to find it: a red tube that was very similar to a spray can, though, instead of a valve, its tip was slender and long, covered by sealed plastic. It also had a button to press, she assumed, to release whatever was inside the can.

"Here", he showed his own chest, the bleeding wound below his shoulder.

Batman obviously wanted her to use the damn thing in his wound; it crossed her mind to ask what it was, and exactly how she should do it, but her sense of urgency was far more pressing – removing the plastic, she placed the lean, flexible end of the tube close to the wound, watching in awe as blood poured incessantly from the ugly wreck of bone and tissue that was visible through the armor.

"Deeper", he said through his clenched teeth.

"Oh", she merely said, unsure if she could do what he was asking of her.

She didn't have to be in doubt for too long, tough; he placed his right hand heavily over hers, and she wondered if he could even be able to dose his strength, considering his state. Nevertheless, his gestured buried the tube's tip in the injured flesh, a violent outcome that he took in surprising stoicism.

Selina pressed the button, feeling the object release some sort of thick fluid into the wound; that he seemed to find pretty painful: he gasped and shuddered, kicking the dashboard with such violence that one of the screens cracked. She wondered if it was supposed to happen that way, if he was supposed to be in such pain, but again all was over quickly: the wound soon was filled with some sort of gel, sealing it completely.

"Interesting", she commented.

He only coughed in response, again expelling blood. As a small console, she realized that bleeding had reduced considerably, with that big wound in his shoulder closed for now.

A loud, quick beeping noise came from the onboard computer again. Selina turned to see the car driving directly into a large metal container by the riverbanks, recognizing they were in Gotham's infamous docks.

"Is this the 'garage' you referred to…?"

He was now quietly watching the car enter the container, breathing rapidly and loudly; his cape was draped around him, barely leaving anything to be seen but his pale, masked face. He allowed a brief, hoarse sound escape when the ground under them suddenly shook, then lowering itself as a giant elevator would.

An underground facility, Selina realized. Bright lights filled the car, coming from the large open space that was revealed to her. On the far wall, at least a dozen monitors and several keyboards, probably his computer – or several, actually -, she assumed. There were also two large chairs, and what seemed to be a set of shelves protected by glass door coming out of the wall on their right. Other than that, the room was strangely empty, and she wondered why they had come there.

The car's roof moved over them, again opening without the need of any command she had identified. Selina quickly left the car and went around the vehicle, planning to help Batman get out of there, but she heard someone speak behind her:

"Please, miss, don't move him. Not yet."

Alfred, she recognized. His voice was even more remarkable and pleasant in person. The man himself was also an interesting sight: he appeared to be in his sixties, though from the way he ran to them she could already presume he was a man that was in remarkable shape for his age, and probably looked younger than he actually was. He had some medical training, something she had figured from the conversation they had had by radio, and, most important: whoever he was, he was very familiar with Batman's life style and mission. There wasn't a hint of surprise in his composed features as he approached the car, coming from a similar elevator that was smaller and placed closer to the center of the room. He carried with him a pair of disposable gloves, that he put on even before reaching them. Getting closer, he nodded at Selina:

"Catwoman, I presume."

She shrugged:

"Calm me any way you like, Mr. Alfred. You were listening to us in the car, you know my name is Selina – if you didn't already, that is."

"Fair enough", he agreed. "Now, miss Selina… I'm going to need your assistance here…"

"Sure."

"Perhaps you could help me by lifting him from inside the car, and I will support him from…"

"No…"

It was Batman speaking; his voice barely audible, but his tone had the usual stubbornness in it.

"I can… walk."

"Of course you can, sir", Alfred agreed. "After all, you were just shot. I keep forgetting how uneventful that is for you."

Even as he helped Batman out of the car, he turned to Selina and asked:

"Would you be so kind to go to the farthest panel on the left and gently tap it on its right edge?"

"Okay", she said, already running to the large white panel. Doing as he had instructed, she was amazed to see that the result was the panel sliding to the side and reveling another room: a large medical bay. She didn't stay to admire it, though; returning to Batman and Alfred, she helped them reach the stainless steel gurney on the center of the room.

"Now, Master… excuse me, 'Batman'." He briefly glanced at Selina, that commented nothing. "I must remove your body armor, sir - as I understand was your point in coming here, anyway."

He gently moved Batman's arms, placing them away from his torso. Without looking away from his patient, Alfred told Selina:

"If you want to assist me here, miss, I suggest you wash your hands and grab a pair of gloves and a sterile sheet on that closet over there."

"I…" She watched as Batman growled while the man began removing his armor – she was surprised to see that the whole thing was actually made of several pieces attached together, now deformed and painted in his owner's blood. "Okay. Okay, I'll do that."

She was by the sink and had her back to the gurney when Alfred finally took off the chest piece, unable to avoid a shocked whisper:

"Heavens…", he mumbled, using his forearm to push up his glasses over the bridge of his nose. "Sir… that's…"

He lowered his head to look at the wound closer, Batman panting and coughing as Alfred's gloved hands touched his ashen skin.

"I see you used the experimental gel, sir." He took a deep breath. "Let's hope it works as it should, then."

"Experimental gel? He didn't say it was experimental, I had no idea…"

"Oh, you don't worry, miss Selina…" He was now putting on a stethoscope, then placing it on Batman's naked thorax. "The gel is a very effective way to seal a wound and help contain extensive bleeding… it's probably what saved his life for the moment."

"For the moment?"

Alfred remained silent as he listened to Batman's breathing sounds. Then, he answered her:

"There are other points to consider, I'm afraid." He looked down to gaze at the masked man he seemed to know so well. "Your lung is badly injured, sir… I believe part of it has already collapsed, and the rest will soon follow if we don't do something very quickly."

For a moment, Selina thought Batman hadn't listen Alfred's words. He struggled to breathe and kept his eyes shut, so immobile that she wondered if he hadn't passed out once again. However, after a few seconds, he opened his eyes and nodded affirmatively. Alfred returned the gesture by pursing his lips and, in subtle, almost imperceptible movement, holding briefly Batman's right hand and gently squeezing it, much like a father would do to encourage a child. Then, he turned to Selina:

"He needs chest tubes, my dear. I'll fetch the instruments; keep an eye on him for a minute, will you?"

She didn't answer, and Alfred didn't wait for her to do it. He went to the drawers behind the gurney, leaving Selina to stare at Batman's punished chest. The shot had been merely his most recent wound, it seemed: there were at least a dozen other scars scattered on his body. He was covered in sweat and his pale skin had several stains of dried or almost dried blood, in a scene that was worth of a battlefield. She raised a hand to his thorax, touching it lightly with her fingers, hoping that her soft, kind stroke could console him somehow.

"Selina…", she heard. He moved his lips, but no sound left his lips.

"What's that?" She placed an ear close to his face, listening to his voice that was now little more than a weak whisper.

"The… helmet…"

She drawn back her face quickly, again staring down at him, now with suspicious.

He said nothing, but lifted his right hand to his mask, forcing it back.

"Sir", it was Alfred, now closer to the gurney again, staring in shock at the gesture. "Sir, are you sure that now is the best moment to…"

Selina acted fast: before Alfred could say anything else, she grabbed Batman's helmet with both hands and, in a swift movement, removed it from his head.

And then she saw it: his familiar, handsome face, the damp hair in a messy disorder, dry blood tainting his nostrils, his dark blue eyes watching her attentively…

Bruce Wayne.

It was Bruce under the cowl, all along.

And that didn't come as a surprise to her… Oh, not at all.