In case you haven't been able to tell, I am on an absolute writing streak. It will end any day now, so enjoy it while it lasts, because this is extremely unusual for me. But, hey, enough of my pessimistic comments. It's time for another chapter! Thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy this next part!
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Alfred attributed the panic attack that followed Ella's story to mental trauma. When Ella insisted that only soldiers have problems like that, Alfred explained that anyone could have anxiety issues after experiencing a traumatic event. Ella's attack lasted around ten minutes and ended with Bruce holding her tightly to his chest and pleading with her to breathe as he did.
"Feel my chest," he said, his arms wrapped tightly around her and pulling her against himself. "Let your chest rise and fall with mine. It's okay, Ella. You're safe here. It's alright."
It was in her bedroom forty minutes later, while drying off from a shower, that the mental health discussion took place.
"I haven't experienced anything traumatic, though," shouted Ella from the bathroom. "Not recently."
"Well, you very likely triggered it from your story," replied Alfred. "I am no mental health expert, but I would wager that's what happened."
"Does it mean I'm insane?" asked Ella, opening the door and coming into her room. She wore joggers and a t-shirt quite similar to her previous outfit. Her taste in clothing was simple and very limited.
"Well, your socks don't match," pointed out Alfred, "but other than that, I am quite sure you aren't insane. Just because you suffer from a form of anxiety or stress does mean you are any less of a person. Do you think I'm insane?"
Ella gave him an amused grin and shook her head, drops of water escaping from her curls, "I guess not. I mean, you do find joy in sort of mundane things like herb gardens and rose breeding, but that's not insanity."
Alfred shot her a glance over his shoulder as he attempted to organize the mismatched socks in her drawer, and huffed, "Well, I think mundane is not quite the word I would use, but be that as it may, you don't find me insane?"
"No," chuckled Ella, dropping into the chair at the end of her bed.
"Well, I used to suffer from PTSD," said Alfred.
"From what?" asked Ella, swinging her legs over the side of the armrest.
"A bomb," replied Alfred, trying to remember if he had seen a second red sock in the laundry room, or if the one he was holding was forever to be single. "I used to be in the military, you know."
"You were!" cried Ella, shifting in her chair. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"I am telling you now," said Alfred. "I was in the Army. Special Air Service, to be exact. When we were in Burma, a bomb went off beside me and killed two chaps I was very close to. It took me a very long time to get over that. I was twenty-years-old when it happened and I still had nightmares at thirty-five."
"But I don't have nightmares," said Ella, reaching down to grab one of her sneakers. "How did you get over it? I haven't ever felt like I did in Bruce's room just now. That was scary. Did you have to take medicine?"
"No, I never took medicine," said Alfred, sliding the sock drawer shut. "I saw a therapist a few times, but I couldn't make myself open up to him. Meditation helped me greatly. Relaxation techniques can be huge assists when it comes to trauma."
"Are you better now?" asked Ella, standing up and walking over to the butler. It made her sad to imagine the kind man in any sort of grief. Next to Bruce, he was her rock, and she couldn't guess what she would do if either of them went through what she just had.
"Yes," smiled Alfred, placing a hand on her shoulder as they walked towards the door, "thankfully, I haven't experienced an episode since before Master Wayne's birth."
"Good grief, Alfred!" exclaimed Ella. "How old are you?"
"Now, is that a very polite question?" asked Alfred, opening the bedroom door.
"You asked me how old I was when you drove me here from the orphan home," said Ella.
"It's called Gotham City Home for Girls, not the orphan home, and it's different when an adult asks a child that," replied Alfred, looking slightly annoyed. He didn't like to think about the fact that he was gaining years rather quickly and was what some might call an elderly man.
"Eighty?" questioned Ella, raising an eyebrow.
"Now, do I look eighty-years-old to you, young lady?" asked Alfred, leading them down the hallway towards the stairwell. "I certainly hope not. And if I do, it's due to the stress I am caused by raising two mischievous miscreants."
Ella giggled and put an arm around Alfred's waist, "Was Bruce annoying as a kid?"
"Insatiable," nodded Alfred. "First he was interested in drama, and then soccer, and then skiing…oh, now I have a ski-trip story that would rattle any parent! The things I put up with for that boy!"
"What horror stories are you telling her, Alfred?" asked Bruce, meeting them halfway up the staircase, dressed in his suit with his hair combed down. "Hey, missy," he grinned, enveloping Ella in a hug. "Feel better?"
"Tons," nodded Ella, still wary of his bruises but relishing the comfort of his arms. "Alfred was telling me how insatiable you were as a kid."
"Insatiable?" said Bruce, glancing at Alfred. "Do you even know what that means?"
"Hard to please," responded Ella.
"I suppose I was," nodded Bruce. "Alfred really pulled through on keeping me straight, though."
The three descended the rest of the staircase, and Ella raised an eyebrow as Bruce started for the hallway to the main door. "Are you leaving, Bruce?" she asked, hurrying after him.
"Yes, I have a meeting at three," nodded Bruce. "Alfred, don't tell her the ski-trip story. It's embarrassing. Ella, do whatever Alfred says. Oh, say, missy, could you run upstairs and grab me my briefcase? I left it by my bed."
"Sure, Bruce!" nodded Ella, turning and bounding up the stairs.
Bruce turned to the hallway mirror and straightened his tie, listening for Ella's footsteps to echo away, then sighed deeply, "Alfred, try to keep her occupied today. I don't want her having another attack like that. It scared the daylights out of me. Should we get a therapist or something? I don't know if that would help since she would refuse to tell him about her brother. Speaking of which, that's what this meeting is all about."
"Sir?" asked Alfred.
"I have a meeting with my computer in the cave," smirked Bruce, picking up his overcoat from the chair he had set it on. "I'm going to dig up all I can on this Vince Ferrera. I have a big job ahead of me getting him off the streets. It needs to be clean and arousing no suspicion on Ella's part. So, therapist?"
"May I suggest we wait on that, Master Wayne?" asked Alfred. "I've had some experience with this myself, and every person is different. I propose we take further steps if it gets worse, but leave it be for now."
Bruce nodded, "I always trust your judgment, Alfred. You're normally right."
"I would go as far as to say always right, sir," said Alfred, turning as Ella's footsteps sounding on the staircase. "How is your shoulder?" he mumbled before Ella drew near.
"It's fine, Alfred," sighed Bruce, but the butler could see the slight wince as Bruce gave his tie a final pat.
"Here ya go, Bruce," Ella smiled as she handed over the briefcase. Her cheeks were red from running and her face looking much brighter than it had that morning.
Despite her complexion, Bruce could see the tiredness in her eyes, and part of him longed to stay and take care of her. The panic attack she had experienced must have taken a lot out of her. But something of greater importance awaited him. Bruce leaned forward, kissing her forehead, "Okay, kiddo, see you later. You two have a good day and stay out of trouble."
"Never rests," said Alfred, shaking his head. "Well, Miss, what say we retire to the library and peruse some Shakespeare?"
…
"Well, this is certainly a turn of events," mumbled Bruce, leaning back in his desk chair. The screens before him all held the same face. The same name. The one person that he kept linking back to Vince "the Detective" Ferrera. "Sometimes known as Paul Napier," Bruce read to himself, "a brother of Jack Napier. So you play-act as his brother, my friend? Nothing good comes to those who closely associate with the Joker. And I'm sure you will find yourself no exception, Detective."
Memories of the previous night flashed through Bruce's mind, strong arms holding him down on every side as the Joker plunged the knife into his shoulder.
"How does it feel, Batsy?" giggled the clown, dragging the blade downward and relishing in the Batman's cries.
Bruce surely would have died if the Tumbler hadn't burst through the wall, guns firing. Thank goodness for autopilot.
Could Vince Ferrera have been one of the men holding him down? Was it too strong of a coincidence for the brother of the very child he loved to be involved with his greatest enemy? Or was it too good of a plan? Of course, Bruce didn't believe that Ella had anything to do with the Joker. Surely her coming to Wayne Manor was nothing short of a miracle, but could the clown be using it for his own good?
"Don't be stupid," Bruce whispered to himself. "Joker doesn't know who you are." Still, it was a strange coincidence.
And now he had some work to do. The Joker had escaped from Arkham just yesterday morning, and this time Bruce needed to put him away for good. After blowing up an entire hospital and terrorizing the city of Gotham, it was time for the Joker's reign to end. And with a child to care for, Bruce found a strange part of himself aching to be let out. It was a part he had never really experienced before on this high of a level. For the first time since donning the suit, he actually wanted to kill. He wanted to kill the Joker, but more than that, he wanted to kill Vince Ferrera.
"Fox?" asked Bruce, cell phone pressed to his ear. "I need a little favor. It will be dark in about six hours, and I work best in the dark. How fast can you get me a helicopter?"
...
I have never experienced mental health issues, and I empathize greatly with those who do. I did a lot of research on how to write this section, and hope I didn't do too terribly. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I'm excited to see where this goes!