Wednesday, August 26, 2009 – 7:48am – Gotham Century Towers; Gotham City, New Jersey
Oh God, she felt like hell. Her eye sockets throbbed, her throat felt like a cotton ball dispenser, her stomach was doing audible somersaults.
When was the last time she drank that much? A bottle of wine at dinner, another bottle of wine in front of Netflix, trying to drown out the phone call she had received, waiting for—
She jolted upright in the bed—which was followed by the sudden loss of vision and a searing pain in the base of her skull.
She grimaced and wrapped her arms around her head, applying pressure to the back of her head.
She kissed him. She fucking kissed him. What a moron. What a drunk moron.
He was parading her around as an act, letting the rumors fly that they were dating as an act.
And she had to go and kiss him. Great job, drunk Anastasia.
She sauntered out of the bedroom and down the hall, her hair up in an obscene pineapple, her eye makeup trying to make her resemble more of a racoon than a human, the blanket around her shoulders trailing her like a cape (ha!). The tile was cool under her bare feet and provided relief where she felt like she was radiating heat waves. She took the spiral staircase one step at a time, hands barely gripping the blanket around her. The familiar smell of Alfred's coffee and bacon wafted up to her, making her stomach suddenly indecisive between wanting and rejecting food. She carefully completed her descent and padded her way towards the kitchen.
"Good morning, Miss Williams. Would you like some breakfast? Or perhaps some pickle juice and Advil?"
Her eyes shot daggers at the smug old man. "Just some water, please, Alfred. Don't let me drink that much again."
His blue hues twinkled before he turned back around to fetch a glass while she proceeded to climb up on a barstool, pulling the blanket tight around her form. "Pray tell, what was the celebration for, Miss?"
She shrugged, gently shaking her head. "I just got in my head, Alfred."
He gingerly set a full glass of water down on the countertop in front of her, followed by a ramekin with two identical pills—Advil. Damn his preparedness. "How so, Miss?"
She eyed him warily for a hot second before just sheer, overwhelming exhaustion broke her down. "I just… I just messed up. I need to go home. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be doing any of this. This movie is just bullshit and I never should've agreed to come out here. And he doesn't even want me here, I can tell. And I'm just… I'm not doing anything with my life anymore, Alfred." She looked at him pleadingly, tears stinging her eyes. "I miss helping people. I hate this life."
His eyes were soft as he circled the counter, his hand reaching out to touch her blanket-clad shoulder. "Miss Williams, you're too hard on yourself—"
"No, Alfred, I'm not hard enough. I could be doing so much more than this bullshit I've been doing for the past seven years. Look at everything he's done—he's doing—"
Alfred stiffened at the comment. "What he's doing is irrational and unwise," he blurted, understanding immediately, his eyes hard with frustration.
"But he has helped people." She'd done her research this past week, when they weren't spying on her like a child with a curfew. The Reddit forums and rumor mill painted a much different picture of Bruce's alter ego than the news did. "He is helping people. That's why I never see him. I'm just dead weight sitting around here, being babysat. Every alibi he has to create pulls him away from what he needs to do."
Alfred's eyes suddenly softened as he read between the lines. He stared at her for a long moment while she chugged her water to try and distract herself from crying. He finally released a heavy sigh, hand going to his temple in defeat, "Bloody hell… you two…" Ana blinked in surprise, thrown by the sudden change in character from the charming elder. "Miss Williams, get some rest and recover today. Tonight, I want to show you something."
Wednesday, August 26, 2009 – 11:32pm – Gotham Century Towers; Gotham City, New Jersey
Alfred politely held open the back-passenger door to the Rolls Royce for Ana, just as he had so many times before, but this time Ana was wary as she eyed him before sliding into the seat. She'd had time to think around her naps and carb-loads that were intended to murder that hangover, and when she had time to think, it always turned into over thinking.
She had never openly discussed the elephant in the room like that. Did she say too much? Was she too much of a liability now? Being chauffeured to an undisclosed location in the middle of the night wasn't exactly making her feel like this was just a normal nightly drive.
And this was also the first time she'd ever walked to the car in the parking garage. Normally Alfred picked her up and dropped her off in front of the building and parked the vehicle himself. Shit, were there even any cameras in this parking garage? Any witnesses? Any evidence?
Once seated in the driver's seat, Alfred started the car and it came to life with a low purr. He turned on the headlights, shifted into gear and—drove backwards?! Ana flinched, fully expecting the rear of the backed-in luxury car to slam into the concrete wall behind them. But it never came. The car smoothly accelerated backwards as Ana watched the wall that was previously behind them slide closed in front of them, closing off their access to the underground parking garage they had just been in. And then the lights above them flipped on suddenly, illuminating the solid concrete wall and a larger space around them. Alfred slowed the Rolls to a stop, switched gears, and turned the wheel to flip the car around and head for the darkened tunnel opposite from the secret wall they had just emerged from.
Yup, this is it. They're going to kill me.
The tunnel started to light up as they accelerated through it, lighting up just enough ahead of the Rolls that the headlights were essentially useless. A dashed line on the ground guided Alfred through the darkness. Glancing behind them, the lights shut off as they passed, leaving a faint red glow from the taillights behind them in the darkness.
After about ten minutes of this, the car finally started to slow, and another large, empty space suddenly illuminated in front of them. Parking the Rolls slightly off to the side of the space, Alfred proceeded with his usual routine of holding the door open for Ana. At her hesitation, he offered a warm smile and held out his open hand towards the empty space as a comforting, directional gesture. "After you, Miss Williams."
A little more comfortable than before, but still erring on the side of wary, she stood and proceeded to follow him as he casually strolled towards the center of the room. Suddenly a concrete slab about ten feet in front of them slowly rose from the floor, which once completely elevated revealed a series of monitors and equipment, a desk, and two stools. The monitors flickered to life, each one showing something different. One was displaying GCN, a couple looked like security footage, and a couple more belonged to computers—their screens sitting idly by with code, awaiting a new prompt.
"Why are you showing me this, Alfred?" She still wasn't entirely convinced they weren't just going to kill her.
"Because I know you can help, too, Miss Williams," Alfred replied calmly, his blue eyes warm and serious. "You can help him. You can help him finish this crusade of his, and you can help keep him safe."
Of the security footage monitors, one of them suddenly moved as if it was a body cam rather than a stationary security camera. That's Bruce. That's Batman.
"I made a grievous mistake before," Alfred continued remorsefully, "trying to help him hurry up and pass off this job to someone else, when he really needs someone worthy to help finish the job. Once and for all. Someone who understands him. Someone who will be there for him in the end, no matter the outcome." There was so much more to his words, she could read it in his eyes. Something had happened to Bruce. There was a reason why Alfred was telling her this, why he was showing her this.
"Alfred, how…?" she trailed off, failing to find the words to phrase her speechlessness.
"Being an extra set of eyes and ears for him is invaluable. So is your mind, filling in where mine is lacking."
"Lacking? Alfred, you know everything."
He chuckled, "I wish that were the case. But alas, I'm starting to feel my age and my mental stamina isn't what it used to be."
She smiled softly, still thinking he was uttering complete bullshit, but also suddenly feeling completely at ease—all her previous silly and ridiculous thoughts and feelings long gone. And eager. She plopped down on one of the stools, cracked her fingers, and smiled over her shoulder at Alfred, "Where do I start?"
A/N: OMG, I updated. Because, get this, I'm back in a damn dorm room. Ten years later. Life is crazy, ain't it?! And apparently dorm rooms is where my muse for this bullshit lives. I also went back and changed a lot of shit in part two because I rewatched the movies and was like, wow, much out of character, very bad. I'm just all over the place. This story is ridiculous. BUT I'd just like to point out how out of character Bruce is in TDKR, making out with all the random ladies and stuff, my goodness-so I don't ENTIRELY think that this is THAT bad. I'm going to predict that I'm going to finally FINISH THIS while I'm here, but my track record says volumes about me making false promises, so don't hold your breath.