True to her word, Rebecca went straight back to Wayne Manor the next morning.
However, she met with unexpected resistance at the front door - in the form of Alfred Pennyworth.
"Alfred." Rebecca sighed, nervous in her anticipation. "I just need to speak with him quickly. It's kind of urgent."
"I heard you, Miss Dawes." Alfred answered patiently and apologetically. "Unfortunately, Master Wayne really is out."
"So if I walk in now, he won't be lying in his bed?" Rebecca demanded.
Alfred paused, and she sighed again.
"Did Bruce tell you to bar me from coming in?" She asked, and Alfred bowed his head slightly as he answered, "My apologies, Miss Dawes, but I believe Master Wayne has made it clear he does not wish you to disturb him."
"Yes, he did." Rebecca agreed, remembering his words with a pang. "But, I just really need to speak with him again."
"If you would like, I can pass the message along at a later time." Alfred suggested, and Rebecca stared at Alfred for a moment.
For a beat, she considered blurting it out to Alfred. If Bruce was Batman, she was certain the old butler would know about it. It only made sense that Bruce had an accomplice who knew all the details just in case, and Alfred was not only Bruce's most trusted friend but also the closest. If nothing else, Rebecca was sure Alfred would have quickly figured out Bruce's scheme on his own regardless – the butler was nothing if not clever.
But, Rebecca knew this was something she should confront Bruce himself with, so she eventually just said, "I'll come back again tomorrow then. At the very least, do you think you can persuade him to accept to meet me for five minutes? I'll even give him a birthday present."
Alfred didn't answer for a moment, and Rebecca wondered if she shouldn't just storm into the Manor.
"I will certainly do my best to ensure Master Wayne will be able to meet with you before his birthday party, Miss Dawes." Alfred said eventually.
"Thank you." Rebecca muttered. "I have to get to work now; goodbye, Alfred."
"Good day, Miss Dawes." He replied, watching her go with a troubled look in his eyes as Rebecca hurried back to her car.
Had Rebecca been less absorbed in what she was certain she knew about Bruce's secret, and less concerned with the pressing issues regarding Crane, she might have realized something odd about Alfred's statement.
She'd known he was lying that Bruce wasn't in, so she hadn't given the rest of his excuses too much thought – but if Rebecca had been as sharp as she usually was, she would have picked up on Alfred's slight pause and then carefully crafted response to her request.
As it was, Rebecca had no idea as she left Wayne Manor just how dire things were in Bruce's room at that moment. If she had, she might have just blurted out the truth to Alfred and demanded to go see the very sick young man sweating it out on his bed inside the large, empty mansion.
That evening, Rebecca got in late again.
However, despite the late hour, she began rummaging about the house as she looked for something in particular.
"What are you doing?" Rachel yawned as she peered out sleepily to watch her sister.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" Rebecca asked, glancing up at her sister apologetically, but Rachel just waved it away.
"It's fine, I wasn't actually asleep yet." She replied, watching as Rebecca started shuffling through their old collections of junk made affectionate by memories. "So, what are you doing?"
"Looking for… this." Rebecca pulled out a particular object from all the junk and Rachel lifted a brow as she recognized it instantly.
"Becky," the older Dawes sister sighed, "what are doing with that?"
"I'm giving it to Bruce." Rebecca explained as she took the object into the kitchen so that she could box and wrap the gift. "I know you remember tomorrow's his birthday."
"Yes, but I thought we agreed that he's not the friend we once knew." Rachel observed as she watched Rebecca quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper before placing it inside the box she'd bought on the way back home to contain her gift
She then started to carefully wrap the box while Rachel continued, "I heard he's even throwing a huge party at his house at night with all the rich and powerful people in Gotham."
"Yes, but that's not exactly new, is it?" Rebecca answered as she focused on tying the ribbon into a bow. "As a Wayne, he's had to do that before."
"Not since his father passed away." Rachel reminded softly.
Rebecca paused, looking up to see her sister watching her with troubled blue eyes.
"What is it?" Rebecca asked, straightening to give her sister her full attention.
Rachel sighed.
"I'm just… worried. You keep setting yourself up to be disappointed." Rachel explained. "I thought after yesterday, you'd see he's just… not the same. And he said such awful things to you."
"I know." Rebecca answered a little evasively. "But, after thinking about it, I think there's something I… missed."
"Becky, I just don't want to have to watch you get your heart broken." Rachel said gently. "I don't want to see my little sister get hurt."
"I won't." Rebecca promised, looking her sister straight in the eye. "If anything, then I'll have closure after I give Bruce this."
She waved the box, and Rachel nodded as she gave in – Rebecca clearly wasn't going to. Rachel knew that look in those bright blue eyes too well, so she just sighed as she let the topic go for now.
"All right. Just, be careful, okay?" Rachel requested while making a mental note to go see Bruce tomorrow as well.
"Always." Rebecca answered, a little cheekily and getting a grin back from her sister.
As Rachel turned back to her room, Rebecca looked down at the box in her hands. Pressing it close to her chest, Rebecca determined she would get her answers to her questions tomorrow if it was the last thing she did. And if he continued to push her away, she would – as she told her sister – find closure in handing Bruce back their memories together.
And if he came clean…
22 years ago
Bruce and Rebecca were shaking with fear in the dry well by the time rescue arrived in the form of Alfred and Bruce's father, Thomas Wayne. The bats were long gone, but the terror they had inspired remained – as it would for years to come.
Thomas Wayne brought Rebecca up first, handing her over to Alfred, before he carried his own son back to the Manor with Alfred behind him.
"Will we be needing an ambulance, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked, nodding to Bruce who was cradling his arm against his chest, but Thomas shook his head slightly as he answered, "No, I'll set the bone and take him for an x-ray later. And it doesn't seem like Rebecca's hurt, though I'll check her over as well inside."
"Very good, sir." Alfred answered.
The group's path took them passed Rachel and her and Rebecca's mother – and incidentally the Manor housekeeper – where the pair stood near the Manor front door. Mrs. Dawes stepped up contritely as Thomas walked up with his injured son in his arms, and she began apologetically, "I'm very sorry, sir. I've told-"
"No worries." Thomas interrupted firmly, waving her apologies away kindly. "It's fine. It wasn't anyone's fault – children can easily get hurt whilst playing."
He nodded back at Rebecca in Alfred's arms as he added, "Your daughter's fine, just in shock; though I will check her properly just in case."
"Thank you, sir." Mrs. Dawes bowed her head, while Thomas continued on inside, Alfred carrying Rebecca in behind with a polite nod towards Mrs. Dawes as well.
"Took quite a fall, didn't we, Master Bruce, Miss Dawes?" Alfred said lightly as they walked deeper into the Manor.
Rebecca sniffled while Bruce hung his head, and Thomas smiled as he asked lightheartedly, "And why do we fall, children?"
Neither child replied, but Thomas continued gently, "So we can learn to pick ourselves up."
Bruce woke up slowly, blinking his eyes blearily as his dream from a time long ago faded and reality settled back in. His entire body ached but at least he no longer felt like he was dying – only like he'd died and come back from the fiery pits of Hell itself.
As he heard a soft clink beside him, Bruce glanced over to see Alfred beside his bed, the butler stirring some kind of medication into a glass of water.
"How long was I out?" Bruce whispered, his voice still weak and scratchy from lack of use.
"Two days." Alfred replied. "It's your birthday."
He handed the glass over to Bruce as he added a little dryly, "Many happy returns."
Bruce groaned as he took the glass, sipping at it painfully while his brows furrowed in thought. He completely disregarded Alfred's latter statements as he instead focused on what had happened to him already two nights ago.
"I've felt these effects before," Bruce murmured, "but this was so much more potent. It was some kind of hallucinogen, weaponized in aerosol form."
As Bruce made to sip on his medication again, another familiar voice commented jokingly, "You have been hanging out at the wrong clubs, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce almost choked as he watched Lucius Fox walk up from the corner of the bedroom, and Alfred answered Bruce's questioning gaze calmly, "I called Mr. Fox when your condition worsened after the first day."
Bruce nodded slightly, before looking back at Fox as the elderly man explained, "I analyzed your blood, isolating the receptor compounds and the protein-based catalyst."
Bruce frowned and he asked tiredly, "Am I meant to understand any of that?"
"Not at all." Fox answered cheekily. "I just wanted you to know how hard it was."
Bruce almost smiled, but Fox's next words caught his attention and his focus.
"Bottom line, I synthesized an antidote." Fox finished, and Bruce asked instantly, "Could you make more?"
Fox raised a brow and he deadpanned, "You planning on gassing yourself again, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce's lips twitched up into a small smile as he answered lightly, "Well, you know how it is, Mr. Fox. You're out at night, looking for kicks, someone's passing around the weaponized hallucinogens…"
Fox chuckled, before he promised, "I'll bring what I have. The antidote should inoculate you for now."
The man then turned, greeting warmly as he left, "Alfred, always a pleasure."
"Lucius." Alfred returned, nodding back at the man as Fox left the room while Bruce lay back on his pillows.
"Did I miss anything important while I was out?" Bruce asked as he rubbed his face, and Alfred almost paused. Almost.
"Miss Dawes was here to speak with you again yesterday morning." He revealed, and Bruce glanced at the man with a frown.
"Becky?" He asked, wondering if he had heard wrong. After what he'd said to her, Bruce had been certain she would never want to see his face again let alone willingly come looking for him.
"I have a suspicion that Misss Dawes has found out who the Batman really is." Alfred informed Bruce bluntly.
Bruce looked up sharply, his expression instantly turning to alarm as Alfred amended, "Or, at the very least, she suspects who he is."
"Did she say anything?" Bruce asked quickly, and Alfred shook his head.
"She didn't necessarily say anything, sir." Alfred answered. "However, I have known Miss Dawes as long as you have, Master Wayne. And I could see it in her eyes that she knew something."
"How the hell did she-?" Bruce began, mentally scanning through his meeting with her as Batman. It had to be the catalyst somehow behind her connecting the Batman to him. But he'd been certain he'd been careful not to let anything slip.
"As I said, Master Wayne," Alfred replied, "I have known Miss Dawes as long as you have. But that also means she has known you and I as long," he gave Bruce a meaningful look, "not to mention she is very clever and skilled in deducing clues."
"Don't I know it." Bruce groaned, covering his face with his hand again. "She's always been good at it, and now she's one of Gotham's best detectives."
"I doubt you will convince her of anything but the truth now, sir." Alfred warned. "You may want to decide if you wish to continue to push Miss Dawes away from yourself and Batman, and soon – she said she would return before your party tonight to speak with you."
Bruce groaned, while Alfred took Bruce's now empty glass and headed out of the room.
The billionaire slumped back onto his pillows, running his hands through his hair. How had Rebecca figured it out? More importantly, Alfred was right. If Rebecca knew Batman's identity, his whole Bruce Wayne cover was blown anyway. He could tell her the truth; he wouldn't have to act in front of her.
But he would have to act in front of the public. Would she be okay with that? Was she even okay with him being Batman?
Most importantly, what would keep her safest if she already knew his secret?
Bruce groaned again, covering his head with his sheet. She was a damned police detective on the side of good and determined to fight for peace – she was already the furthest a Gotham citizen could be from safe. That cinched it then; Bruce sighed as he threw his covers back again.
He would be honest, and then see where Rebecca wanted to be in his life, knowing the full truth about him.
'She's probably going to hit me again when she learns what I said was a lie.' Bruce sighed. 'I'll be lucky if she doesn't punch me in the face this time.'
It was sometime later that Bruce wandered downstairs, knowing he'd have to start getting ready soon for the party, only to be brought up short by a familiar figure standing in the front doorway.
"Rachel?" Bruce asked in surprise, glad he'd actually dressed himself properly as he made his way down the last of the steps towards the front foyer.
Rachel looked up from where she'd been speaking with Alfred, surprise and then the quickly becoming familiar hint of contempt crossing her face as she remarked, "Looks like someone's been burning the candle at both ends. Must've been quite an occasion."
Bruce came to a stop before Rachel while Alfred left them to speak in private, the old butler moving discreetly away to check on the decorations being hung in the manor ballroom for the party later.
Deciding Rachel at least seemed none the wiser, Bruce gave an easy smile as he answered, "Well, it is my birthday."
"I know." Rachel answered shortly. "And I was going to drop off a present, but I figured I'd talk with you while I was here. If you have the time." She added as Bruce hesitated.
"Talk about what?" Bruce asked slowly, and Rachel took a deep breath.
"Bruce, I get that you've changed." She began. "I see what Becky doesn't – that you're choosing consciously to be someone else, and we can't stop you."
Bruce winced internally. Rachel wasn't exactly wrong but she also wasn't right. And ironically, he had the feeling that if Alfred was right, it was Rebecca who had seen right through him - as usual.
"But, I want to ask that you please stop hurting my sister."
That snapped Bruce's full attention back on Rachel as the brunette woman continued sternly, "Just because you no longer want to be associated with us, for whatever rich, playboy, jerk reason it is, you don't have to hurt my sister for it. We cared for you, she still cares – and I do too, even though I don't want to. That's what being friends meant."
Bruce blinked, swallowing slightly, as Rachel finished, "So at the very least, man up, and if you're going to let her – and me – down, do it like a decent human being. Because if you hurt my sister like you did the other morning, Bruce, I swear I will come back here and kick your ass."
Bruce nodded slowly – though he did mentally appreciate the irony of Rachel's speech right after he'd made his decision to come clean with Rebecca -, and Rachel smiled without warmth.
"Here." She handed him a small package, wrapped up neatly in the store wrapping paper – a store that Bruce recognized.
"Happy birthday, Bruce." Rachel muttered, turning to go, and Bruce blurted out, "Rachel, wait-"
She paused, glancing back at him, but her phone rang before he could say any more.
*A/N Happy (late) Valentine's Day everyone!