Once Upon Another Time

A/N: So sorry for the long wait! I would have updated this a week ago but my dog somehow managed to chew the wires of my router and left me internetless Is that even a word? -_-' Side note to some of you guys:

allthelovers: He'll get back at Scarecrow, he still dosent know about Judas :D all in good time

Ravenclaw992: Ah I love it when you guys take the time to review some of the chapter along the way, glad you're liking it so far and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Silent: I want another paragraph -_- lmfao just kidding, and yes I did see Bale at the awards ;D Oh and there's a bit of her background in this one just so you dont get confused anymore lmao

England101: "Bruce will probably go plot in the lair until dark..." that made me crack up so much, you practially made my day :D Sadly he didnt go and plot until the sun rose over Gotham, but I hope this chapter dosent disappoint.

Enjoy!

"Master Wayne, perhaps now is not the best time to question her," Alfred suggested as Bruce glanced at the woman on the couch. It had been over an hour and he still hadn't managed to get anything out of her.

Monica watched him through watery eyes trying to keep her composure as he nodded to his butler and stood from the couch beside her. She uttered a shaky sigh and rested her head against the mass of fur that she had wrapped around her while she watched him leave.

She wanted to tell him, she truly did, but the fear that gripped her every time that she thought of Judas and Scarecrow was enough to keep her silent.

She could feel her life crumbling around her, her men were still out of work, she was living in someone else's house, her parlor had been blown sky high, and all she could do was sit there and cry like an idiot.

She dropped her head slightly and grimaced at that. Had her father still been alive he would have been scolding her for being so helpless. She felt like things couldn't possibly get any worse, she shook the thought off when she remembered the city that she was living in.

She felt horrible staying with Bruce and Alfred, the mere thought of the butler running around to serve her every need sickened her. The fact that Bruce would spend ridiculous amounts of money in order to provide her with the most expensive meals she had ever had caused her to frown at herself when she realized how unworthy she was of all of it.

She dropped her head once more and drifted off into a restless sleep. The few hours that she did manage to get in only seemed to tire her more. She tried several times to go back to sleep but failed miserably, having made up her mind she settled on finding Alfred. She needed someone to talk to in order to get her mind off of things.

She slowly unraveled herself from the wolf pelt she had around herself and stared at the fire briefly before bracing herself and standing up. She swayed in her spot briefly before she regained her balance and headed towards the kitchen.

She used the walls as support, with her mind as troubled as it was the last thing she could possibly concentrate on was walking.

Her head swam with images of her father sitting on his Harley with his leather jacket on telling her to be strong to fight for what she wanted; she could see her brother in his uniform cleaning his gun after a long day of work telling her everything would be ok…that everything would work out.

She shook the memories away, her father was dead. Her brother couldn't be watching over her shoulder to make sure she would stay safe wherever she went.

She paused when she entered the large kitchen and saw Bruce there.

She had been expecting to find only Alfred; she turned to leave only to have the billionaire call her back.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," he called back to her as she stopped and looked over her shoulder.

She glanced at him briefly, the sight of the billionaire sitting there did startle her, it was only then that she noticed he wasn't dressed in an expensive suit or pricey garment.

The fact that he was wearing black sweats and a grey V-neck shirt threw her off for a few moments, his black hair was a mess much like hers, come to think of it she wasn't in the position to be criticizing his look when she looked like a mess herself.

"Sit down, I don't bite," he told her motioning towards the seat across from him with a smile that came naturally to him. She stared at him briefly before settling down in front of him, she couldn't find it in herself to project a happier version of herself.

"I suppose you've perfected that smile of yours by now," she commented blankly playing with the table salt by tossing it back and forth between her hands. Bruce immediately pulled back and dropped his smile if only for a moment, she wasn't stupid.

"You're a smart girl," he told her taking a sip of his coffee before resting back on the chair and observing her. She managed to keep herself entertained with the salt but she could still feel his burning gaze on her, it was starting to unnerve her.

"And you're a smart boy," she told him as Bruce chuckled, she had humor after all. "Then again, you'd have to be in order to pull off the whole playboy thing, wouldn't you?" she asked him keeping her eyes away from him.

He tilted his head ever so slightly to stare at the woman in front of him, no one had ever dared talk to him in that manner, it was a change he hadn't been expecting. Had it been any other woman he would have already have them melting in front of him.

"I suppose you are right," he laughed placing the mug in front of him as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in exhaustion. Much like her he hadn't had enough sleep either. "Are you feeling any better today?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She failed to catch the salt as it fell on the table with a soft thud; she quickly picked it up with a frown and placed her hands in her lap in order to stop herself from looking more foolish.

"I-I'm feeling better," she lied managing weak smile before it disappeared as soon as it came, "I'm so sorry about the salt," she murmured looking up at him briefly.

His eyes, she paused slightly as her mind tried to recall where she had seen them before, they seemed so familiar to her. She pushed her thoughts aside and looked down once more in shame, she couldn't stop looking like a child for more than five minutes, she had already spilt the salt…what else could possibly go wrong?

Bruce softened his gaze on her as he noticed how nervous and uncomfortable he was making her by staring. The bruise on her right cheek, however, was making the task extremely difficult.

"It's of no bother, I'll have Alfred take care of it," he told her dismissing the incident with a wave of his hand. Her eyes instantly shot up and locked with his own, she couldn't help but frown. She was nothing but a burden; she wondered how much the butler had already done for her.

"I can clean it," she told him hurriedly rising from the table much quicker than he could have anticipated. He couldn't help but smirk when the realization finally him, she didn't want to bother Alfred, she thought she was just a problem for them.

"There is no need for that, Miss Van Buren," Alfred's voice told her as she turned to look at the butler who was already walking towards them with a cleaning cloth in his hand. "Why don't you go and freshen up before your brother arrives?" he suggested as he wiped the salt off of the table in a collected manner.

Monica's eyes widened upon hearing what the butler had just said, they shot over to look at Bruce who was calmly sipping his coffee again.

"What?" she asked panicking as both men looked at her in concern.

"I called your brother, he should be aware of everything that's happened over the last few days," Bruce replied staring at her trying to read her expression.

"No, he can't find out about anything!" she told them as fear griped her, the mere thought of having her brother find out that she had gotten herself into another mess horrified her. The bruise that Judas had left would be hard to explain as well, she wasn't in the mood for an argument.

"He can't know…he can't," she begged them before she started to hyperventilate. Bruce looked to Alfred once more in concern before standing and trying to calm her down. The doctor had been very clear, she couldn't handle any strong emotions or events, it would only upset her more.

"He has to know, he's your brother," Bruce told her as she shook her head and swayed in her spot, Bruce moved forward as she held on to his arm for support.

"You don't understand…he can't kn-" she told him before she fainted and fell forward into his arms. Bruce held her up and looked to Alfred; the butler merely shook his head and motioned for Bruce to follow him.

"I am afraid we have upset her greatly, Master Wayne," Alfred commented as he opened the door to her room before Bruce entered and placed her on the bed. He glanced around and noticed Alfred had left, he turned to look at her once more and frowned.

He turned her head gently concealing the bruise before Alfred walked in with fur pelts and placed them around her unconscious form. Bruce looked at his butler questioningly as the older man smiled at the billionaire.

"She finds comfort in them, Master Wayne," he told the Bruce who still couldn't understand his butler's reasoning, "some women prefer to be showered in gifts, others prefer to have money handed to them, and others prefer to have diamonds adorning them," Alfred continued before looking down at Monica. "She finds fur comforting, it makes her feel safe, protected," he added as the billionaire nodded in understanding.

He frowned when he noticed what type of animals she was curled up in.

"Alfred, make sure to purchase better quality furs, polar bear, grizzly bear, wolf, anything that is considered exquisite," Bruce told his butler as he walked out of the room calmly. "I will not have a guest sleeping on fox pelts, they are far too common, make sure that they are donated to someone who truly needs them," he added before leaving Alfred to his duties.

The butler merely stared after his master with a light smirk tugging at the edges of his lips; it was the first time he had ever been sent out on an errand of this kind.

Alfred turned and headed in a different direction no doubt to fulfill his tasks as Bruce found his way back to the kitchen. He was about to sit down when the doorbell rang loudly, he paused slightly waiting for Alfred to get it when he realized that his butler was no longer there.

Bruce sighed before rising from the table and walking over to the door, he knew who it was and he wasn't looking forward to explaining everything that had occurred over the last few hours.

He opened the large door to reveal Dante standing in the doorway looking irritated already, the billionaire rolled his eyes at the image of the man in front of him.

"Trying to pull of the biker look today, Dante?" he teased as the other snorted in disgust at the billionaire.

"Trying to pull off the common citizen look, Bruce?" Dante shot back eyeing what the billionaire was wearing. Bruce merely smirked back at the officer he had known for years, he stepped aside and let him through.

"She's sleeping, don't wake her," Bruce warned as he let Dante in to his sister's room. The police officer stepped in cautiously and walked over to Monica's unmoving body on the immense bed. He sighed as he sat next to her and gently ran his hand over her hair while pushing it back to reveal her calm expression.

Bruce uttered a sigh of relief when he realized she hadn't stirred and flipped over to her right side, that would have spilled disaster for both of them.

After assuring Dante that his sister was fine Bruce led him to the living room where he took a seat on one of the couches while Dante took a seat across from him. Bruce had to hold back a smirk when he realized that he and his sister mimicked each other perfectly, he was just as impatient and fidgety as she was.

"I assume you did not call me here to watch her sleep," Dante commented crossing his arms over his chest, Bruce shook his head and eased his body up readying himself for what was to come.

"I assume you are familiar with the one they call 'Scarecrow'?" Bruce asked as Dante's gaze immediately shot to his. "She ran into him a few nights ago, you can imagine what occurred during their little encounter… she's been going on about rats ever since," Bruce continued pausing slightly. He knew he had lied about the day when it had happened but that was irrelevant as of now. "I can imagine that her phobia involves more that the mere rodent that thrives in this city," Bruce finalized looking at Dante who had suddenly retreated greatly.

A shadow fell over his face as he stared at the billionaire grimly.

"I am going to tell you this only because you are one of the few people I trust in this damn city," Dante started tapping his biker boot against the floor nervously feeling the memories rush back. "Our parents were bikers…outlaw bikers," he told Bruce as the playboy listened intently. "As you can imagine they had their enemies, one night the devil came knocking at their door," Dante stopped briefly and held back tears of rage as he remembered that night.

Bruce stared at the police officer in front of him; he could already tell where this was headed.

"They were gunned down in their own bar along with everyone in it," Dante growled cracking his knuckles and pausing again. "Monica…she, she walked in when the bastards were leaving," he continued biting down on the inside of his cheek to repress the anger that rose up whenever he remembered what had happened. "They didn't want to waste any more bullets so they dragged her into a small room where they kept the liquor…they threw her in there with a large black bag before slamming the door shut and locking it," Dante choked as his lip curled into a sneer.

"There were rats in the bag, hungry rats," he continued as Bruce's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. "She sat there in the dark hearing them scamper around knowing they would chew their way through eventually, all she would do was wait," Dante told the billionaire as Bruce shook his head in disgust towards the men who had done that to her. "She was only 16 when it happened…16, Bruce," Dante told him as Bruce resisted the urge to gag at the mere thought of anyone doing that to another human being.

"I could hear her screaming when I drove up in my motorcycle along with the rest of my squad, the room she was in was at the end of the bar and I could hear her clear as day…screaming for help," he added as he held back the tears of rage that pooled in his eyes. Bruce couldn't believe what he was hearing, how could she look at life so positively after that had been done to her?

"By the time I got her out she had bite marks everywhere, the rats had had their fun, I couldn't shield her from looking at the bodies of our dead parents and cover her wounds at the same time, I chose the latter," he growled clenching his fist until his knuckles turned white."She hasn't been able to shake the images of their bodies lying in a pool of their own blood with bullet wounds everywhere," Dante hissed referring to their parents before shifting on the couch. "The scars that the rodents left on her have all faded by now, they're barely noticeable…but the trauma of being locked in a dark room with the filthy rats hasn't gone away, she's 23 now and she still fears the damn things she can't even stand the sight of them on TV," he confessed as Bruce nodded slowly.

It all made sense now.

"I haven't been able to forget about that night either, I still bear the scars that the damn animals left when I was pulling her out," Dante told him pulling up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a skull with roses. Bruce stared at it intently before the police officer pointed out the small bite marks that were scattered across the petals of the flower and in the eye sockets of the skull. The billionaire grimaced before Dante pulled his arm back and rolled his sleeve back down. "She did the tattoo for me, I couldn't bear to look down at my arm every day when it reminded me of my failure as a brother and as a cop," he confessed sinking back into the leather couch. "The ink comforts me since she was the one who did it, but the memory of her expression when she was tattooing it torments me still."

Bruce couldn't believe everything he had just heard, it amazed him that she was still able to smile after that ordeal. He sat there and listened intently as Dante continued to tell him about that night, the further the police officer explained the more he found himself fascinated by the woman sleeping a few rooms away.

"Our house isn't exactly suitable anymore, Joker knows where we live and if he knows half of Gotham probably knows as well," Dante pointed out as Bruce nodded in agreement.

"It's best if she were to remain with us for the time being," Bruce realized finishing the sentence for the police officer. Both men looked at each other before Dante's phone went off, he excused himself and stood from the couch before walking away to take the call.

"I have to go, I finally got something on Joker," Dante told him grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door. Bruce followed after him and opened the door for him as the young police officer stepped through hurriedly.

"Watch yourself, Dante," Bruce warned him as the other man turned to look at him, "if you dance with the devil you'll endanger yourself and those around you."

"I've been dancing with him my whole life, Bruce," he replied before turning and heading down the large driveway towards his motorcycle.

Bruce shook his head and closed the door. As Batman he had once thought that himself, until it got Rachel killed. He closed his eyes and headed towards the kitchen once more to wait for Alfred's return.

He merely hoped that Dante knew what he was doing, from personal experience he knew Joker wasn't one to be taken lightly or messed with. All he could do for now was watch over Monica and keep her away from the psychopaths that called the streets their home.

Bruce rolled his shoulders and tried to ease his tense muscles before he started to look through the various kitchen cabinets.

He was going to need a strong cup of coffee to get him through the day.

He glanced out of the window while the machine poured the dark liquid into his mug. He took it and sipped it once more before setting it down and closing his eyes briefly.

He turned on the TV in the kitchen and listened as the news reporter ranted on about another bank robbery. He realized he had been away from the city too long, the crime rate was starting to spiral out of control.

Scarecrow and Joker had to be stopped before the situation grew worse. The clown wouldn't get his wish; the city would not go down in flames as long as it had its caped crusader. Nor would it cower in fear from Scarecrow's hallucinogen.

There was a sudden chill that spread through Bruce as he realized something, he could stop Joker...he had already done it once the same could be said for Scarecrow. The thought of them joining forces the second time around suddenly made its way into his mind. If that happened he would find himself fighting two evils instead of one.

He merely hoped they wouldn't realize that.

Joker wasnt an idiot, neither was Scarecrow. In fact they were probably some of the smartest men he had ever crossed paths with. It was only a matter of time until it became obvious to them, Bruce could only hope that their differences would be enough to keep them from working together.

He couldn't shake the feeling that Monica would play a role in all of it, why else would their paths have crossed now and in such a manner?

He took another sip of coffee before turning the TV off, he had heard enough.

Gotham needed Batman, now more than ever.

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