This chapter has been edited for grammar, typos, and plot/timeline issues as of 7/20/2020
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Anslee's body stirred at a bright and early 8 AM. She mentally groaned and scowled herself for being awake so early because of the timezone change. She sat up and looked around at the familiar setting of her room, the place still seeming so vague to her. The twenty-three year old pursed her lips and dragged herself out of bed.
After quickly taking a shower, she slipped into a pair of dark wash jeans and a burgundy colored sweater since the air was likely still a bit chilly outside. After drying her hair with a towel, knowing it would dry to its usual wavy style, she left her room and headed down the stairs where the smell of coffee flowed through the air. She had known Alfred would be down there since he was usually up in the mornings anyways.
As she entered she was met by the old man, who turned to look at her with an amused smile on his lips, "Jet lag, Miss Wayne?" He asked as he pulled a mug out of one of the cabinets and filled it with coffee, "You never were a morning person."
"Yeah you'd think after traveling a year around the world I'd be immune to jet lag," She sighed in return as she took her seat at the same bar stool from the night before. Alfred turned to her after stirring the contents of the cup with a spoon and setting the mug in front of her.
"Traveling the world, hm?" Alfred raised an eyebrow, "You still haven't mentioned where you've been for five years."
Anslee smiled back at the old man, it was only fair she tell him where she disappeared off to, "I went to Met U and got my bachelors in Criminal Justice and Criminology with a minor in Forensic Psychology and in Dance. And then I job hunted and found the perfect thing to get myself out of the 'Gotham State of Mind' since Metropolis didn't do it for me. I traveled with Alvin Ailey's Dance Company all over the world, almost a new country or city everyday, all while taking classes online to work towards my masters degree."
Alfred smiled, he was relieved to hear that Anslee really had used her strong ambition to really make something of herself, "Criminal Justice and Criminology?"
"Yeah," Anslee took a sip of her coffee, "It just really peaked my interest I guess. Maybe it was just the Gotham in me, this city has too many twisted cops. It needs a few who won't quake and switch sides the moment the mob holds a gun to their heads," she shrugged.
The two sat in silence again while Alfred finished fixing up the last bit of breakfast and Anslee drank her first cup of coffee for the day.
"He's down in the cave, if you're wondering, been a few hours since he's been up," he spoke, breaking the silence as she took a drink of her beverage.
"And he's down there again, why?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"His fingerprints were stolen by a woman posing to be a server during the Wayne Foundation event celebrating Harvey Dent, he isn't quite sure what for," he confirmed as he took a sip of his own drink.
"I think it's time to pay a little visit to my old man, Alfred" she snickered as she stood up with her mug in her hand.
"He'll be very pleased to see you've returned after all these years," Alfred smiled.
"Likewise," she smirked, "You'll come with me, won't you?" she asked with a smile.
"Of course, Miss Wayne," He smiled back at her before following her out of the kitchen and towards her grandfather's old office.
Upon entering the office, the old grand piano still stood in the same place it had been before she had left, for that matter, nothing had changed. Ans walked up to the old piano and lightly ran her hand over the keys with a smile before speaking, "Forgive me if I'm rusty," she smirked before hitting the three sets of sharp harmonies quickly, revealing a sliding bookcase that led to an old elevator like one you would see in an old school coal mine.
"Old habits never die," Alfred chuckled in return as he followed her into the contraption.
"Yeah, my dad's living proof of that," she smirked before hitting the button to close the door and then pulling the lever that released it to descend down into the Batcave.
After the thirty second ride down to the cave, the elevator stopped and the door proceeded open. There stood none other than Bruce Wayne. Along with the manor, nothing had changed about him. He was exactly the way she'd left him five years ago. The man was turned around, looking at a computer screen, a criminal file from what she could tell, was pulled up. Alfred had led her out and was the first to speak knowing she'd be at a loss for words.
"Master Wayne, you've a visitor I think you'd be more than happy to see," He spoke with the slightest of ease.
Bruce was quick to turn around, his eyes almost lighting up immediately upon seeing who had walked off of that elevator. He had limped from his position at the computer and approached his child, a smile on his face, "Anslee? God never thought I'd be seeing you again after that day you left...How long's it been? Five years?" He asked her.
"Five years too many," she smiled in return before the man pulled her into a hug. The girl returned the embrace and held onto her father, digging her face into his shoulder as tears formed in her eyes. Bruce buried his face in her hair, even letting a few tears brim his eyes, bit he would never let them fall. This was a feeling neither had thought they'd ever be experiencing again at all again. Especially because of the sour note that they'd departed on. It was an ugly goodbye, if you could even call it that. Bruce was taken back, not only was he hugging his child whom he hadn't seen in years, but he was holding onto the last thing that he left of Rachel. Nothing could compare to that hurt he felt when he thought about her.
"Where have you been?" he pulled away and looked her up and down, studying every feature on her face to make sure that this was real and that his daughter was in fact standing in front of him.
"I spent four years right under your nose at Met U, but it just wasn't quite what I was looking for, so I headed to Alvin Ailey's and performed with them all over the world. The last leg of the tour was in Italy...and then I decided it was time for me to come home," She spoke, wiping her eyes in the process.
"And what was it you were looking for?" he asked her.
"You know, I'm still not quite sure I could put it into words to describe it if I wanted to," She spoke in return. Bruce looked into her eyes once more.
"You never even told me anything about college...I was wondering where you had gone after you left that day."
"I know you have the software to find me," Anslee narrowed her eyes up at him.
Bruce smirked, "I don't think you wanted to be found is the thing."
"But I still know that you looked, don't forget that I know you better than you think I do, dad."
"Either way, it's great to have you back home, it really is. I missed having you around more and more as time built up," he spoke before turning to head back to the computer. Ans followed him and gazed up at the screens that were lit up, all showing different faces except for one, which only showed a name and a few lines of information.
"Who are they?" she asked, looking from her father and back to the screens.
Bruce looked up at the screens, he pointed to one on the far left, a brown haired petite woman with a mugshot was shown, "Selina Kyle, stole my fingerprints off of the safe I kept your grandmother's pearls in. I'm not sure what for, but that's what I'm in the process of investigating. She also took...the pearls." He explained with a sigh.
"That doesn't seem to be the only thing you're investigating," Anslee crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes lingering to another profile that was pulled up on a separate screen.
"That other woman," he paused, "Miranda Tate, she's been trying to talk to me about this investment she's made into a clean energy project, but I'm not sure I'm completely on board with the whole idea. I haven't got much information about what exactly she's trying to do. And that last one without a picture, file of a new criminal. He goes by the name Bane, and I don't have much info on him either. Alfred did gather that he's a mercenary, working with John Daggett on underground construction, but I don't know what for."
All while he talked, Bruce was fidgeting with a device that Anslee had never seen before. As he finished his sentence, he sat down in a chair and strapped the device to his knee.
"And what are you doing?" Anslee asked.
"Just watch," Bruce spoke, clicking a button on the brace, making it clasp around his leg tightly. He then proceeded to get up, bending and stretching the knee. Alfred and Ans exchanged a glance before looking back at Bruce.
"You've got the wrong leg sure," Alfred spoke, gesturing to the fact that Bruce had the brace on his good knee.
Bruce nodded, "You start with the good limb so it learns your optimum muscle patterns," he looked back at the two before sitting down again and swapping the brace to his bad knee. He stood again, putting weight on it, bending it a bit. He sat again and sighed, "Now we tighten it up."
Bruce grit his teeth as he pushed the button to tighten the high-tech brace. The brace dug into his calve, making the man let out a pained groan.
"Is it terribly painful, Master Wayne?" Alfred smirked over at Bruce.
"You're welcome to try it, Alfred," Bruce looked back at the man.
"Happy watching, thank you sir," Alfred chuckled.
"You aren't seriously considering going back out there are you?" Anslee asked her father in a serious tone, "I witnessed you word for word tell Gordon that he and his officers could hunt and condemn you. The entire city believes that you killed Harvey Dent and that you are some terrible being. Gotham is not on your side and they won't take warmly to your return."
Bruce got up from the chair and lunged on his left side a few times to stretch it out. He then proceeded to take a few steps from the computers, "Not bad," he commented with a small smile, obviously ignoring Anslee's statement. He then proceeded to turn and perfectly roundhouse kick the brick wall archway that led to the elevator, shattering a brick off of it, "Not bad at all," he smiled a bit wider.
"You're ignoring me," The girl groaned. Bruce remained quiet and turned his back to her, as Alfred began to speak.
"Master Wayne, if you're seriously considering going back out there you need to hear some rumors surrounding Bane."
"Do you think he'll run into the meat head?" Anslee looked over at Alfred.
Bruce had hit a button that made the Batsuit hidden underground in its glass case rise and reveal itself, "I'm all ears."
"There is a prison. In a more ancient part of the world. A pit. Where men are thrown to suffer and die. But sometimes, a man rises from the darkness. Sometimes...the pit sends something back." Alfred explained.
"Bane," Anslee cut in, crossing her arms over her chest as she followed the two, listening in on the info.
"Born and raised in a hell on Earth," Alfred turned to her.
"Born in a prison?" Bruce looked back at the two as the case concealing the Batsuit opened.
"No one knows why. Or how he escaped. But they know who trained him when he did, Ras al Ghul. Your mentor," Alfred spoke in a more serious tone.
"Bane was a member of the League of Shadows…" Anslee spoke once more, the frown on her face growing in concern.
"Until he was excommunicated. And any man too extreme for Ras al Ghul is not to be trifled with," Alfred pointed in Bruce's direction as if he were a child being scolded for coloring on their walls with crayons.
"I didn't know I was known for trifling with criminals," Bruce spoke with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"That was then. And you can strap up your leg and put the mask back on. But that doesn't make you what you were," Ans spoke, scolding him as well.
"Which was?" he asked looking in between the two.
"Someone who's anger at death made him value all life. Even his own." Alfred put it in better words than Bruce's own daughter could.
The three stood in silence for a few seconds before Bruce spoke, "If this man is all the things you say he is, then this city needs me."
"You don't owe these people anything. They are against you. You may have put the blame on yourself for something you didn't do, but the people still couldn't find it in their hearts to forgive you after you rid of the threat to their home and their wellbeing twice!" Anslee chimed in, dropping her arms to her side, annoyedly.
"This city needs Bruce Wayne. Your resources, your knowledge...not your body. Not your life. That time has passed." Alfred added in.
"I tried helping as Bruce Wayne, Alfred. And I failed," Bruce frowned.
"You can fail as Bruce Wayne. But as Batman, you can't afford to any more," Anslee spoke as she took a few steps closer to Bruce, giving him a worried look as her tone dropped to a calmer one.
"That's what you're afraid of. That if I go back out there I'll fail." Bruce looked between the two.
"No. We're afraid that you want to." Alfred spoke, his tone more calm as well.
Bruce stayed silent before turning to look at the Batsuit. It was silent before Alfred turned away, Anslee soon following. The two made their way towards the elevator. Going up and riding in silence. When it hit the top, the two had stepped out and headed in the direction of the kitchen, Anslee to dispose of her empty coffee mug and Alfred to clean up from that morning.
"I think I'm going to go visit Jim in the hospital around 2, and pay our friend Robin Blake a little visit," Anslee spoke, washing her mug in the sink.
Alfred looked over at her, "Mister Gordon was going to give a speech at the Wayne Foundation event for Harvey Dent, if you would like to spark conversation, try and get something out of that, he backed out at the last second, told the patrons the time wasn't right. Also, It may be best to leave our police friend be, Miss Wayne" he spoke.
"I have a feeling I might know what that speech may have included," Anslee muttered, "And that may be so to you, but because of "our police friend" it triggered the "This city needs Batman again" thing with my dad and I'm not okay with that. He doesn't get to advocate for something he doesn't completely understand nor could he even begin to understand how it affects him and the people around him physically and emotionally, Alfred, it's not right," Anslee turned back to the butler.
"You may be correct when you say that your father owes the people of Gotham nothing, but you and I know he is too stubborn to back down from something once he's got his mind set on it. You're the exact same way, which is why I won't try and stop you from going and talking to that officer, all I can do is advise you it may not be a good idea or may not play out in your favor," Alfred spoke, he always had a way of making things that were like lectures seem more like wise words.
Anslee returned a sigh and leaned over the counter, arguing with herself on what to do, she merely wanted to give the man a piece of her mind for messing with her father. Granted, it did get him off his ass from brooding. She ran a hand through her still partially wet hair with a sigh, "I guess only time will tell, Alfred," she spoke before standing up and leaving the kitchen, so she could head towards her room to grab the paper with Robin Blake's address and to get ready a little more for her day. She wanted to at least get a better idea about where she was heading when it came to Blake's apartment.
