Look After You

Chelsea had returned home once more to attend to her classes. She stayed late on campus because she was so fixated on a piece she was working on. Utilizing the layering effects of watercolor, she made an image on the page that showed Batman standing in front of the large grinning mouth of The Joker, with jagged "ha ha ha's" all around him. When she glanced at the clock it was almost five. Maybe it was time to head home. She didn't want to be alone tonight. It was the anniversary after all. It had been three long years. And it had been crawling and scratching around inside her brain all day.

As she started down the street back to her apartment, she saw something that sparked her interest on a bunch of televisions being sold in a shop window. It was an old interview with Bruce Wayne. He was talking about some new business decision. Suddenly, the screen went black. Chelsea didn't know what to think, until she heard it: laughter. Not just any laughter, but the kind that made every Gotham citizen's skin crawl.

"Joker," she gasped.

Joker appeared on the screen, "Hello Gotham!" he beamed, grinning his abnormally large grin, "Tonight I bring you an explosive new… comedy." he broke out into laughter again, "This is Harley, my assistant," Harley appeared behind The Joker, her giant hammer behind her back. She waved to the camera, "No one likes a spotlight hog Harley!" Joker barked, turning the camera back to him, "Ahem, anyway… your good friend Joker here, would like to show you a map!" A map of Gotham appeared on the screen, "There are six bombs placed throughout Gotham! And guess what!? Unless Bats intends to have some assistance, he'll never make it in time! Perhaps Robin or Bratgirl? Whatever shall he do!?" A picture of the Bat symbol appeared over the map, as Joker erupted with laughter once more. Chelsea studied the image as closely as she could, taking a mental picture, before it disappeared.

Whipping out her small sketchbook she started to replicate the picture. Somewhere within the confines of that symbol were all six bombs. That had to be it. She grabbed her ear, "Batman, you there?" she paused, no answer. She sighed, and tried again, "Batman…?"

"I see it," he finally said.

"Look, I have an idea of where they are." Chelsea informed, looking at her sketch, "Let's meet up and-"

"No," he cut her off with a stern tone, "you and the others stay out of this. I mean it."

When it came to Joker, it was personal. She looked back to the television and watched Joker's mouth continue to move, but wasn't listening to his words. If Batman didn't want to work together, then she would honor his wishes of not calling upon the others. However, she couldn't just wait around and hope that she didn't get blown up. She started to examine the locations inside the bat symbol. It would make sense for Joker to coordinate it so he could wipe out the most people in the shortest amount of time. Chelsea's eyes glanced over at the tv to see Joker holding up a pair of threes. Add that up and you get six. He kept exposing more subtle clues, "Batman," she said again into her earpiece, "three of the bombs are fake. He's trying to overwhelm you by planting three decoys."

"They will all have to be dismantled in order to ensure Gotham's safety." Batman replied, "Stay out of it."

Right like that's going to happen. She sighed. He seemed grumpier than usual. Chelsea started to study Joker's surroundings. He was in a studio. Perhaps a news broadcasting center? It looked too small for that. That's when she saw the strangely shaped microphones behind him. A radio broadcasting center? There was only one building she knew of in Gotham that had a radio station as well as a news broadcasting center. It was smack dab in the middle of the Bat symbol on her sketch. It hit her all at once. The three active explosives were inside the very building Joker was stationed in. She started to reach for her ear again, when she decided not to. She would handle this. Batman was being too stubborn to listen to her.

Chelsea levitated high above the buildings and started to make her way to Gotham Broadcast and Radio Center. Setting her backpack on the roof of the building beside her destination, she noticed a window on the top floor of the broadcasting center that was open. She slowly lifted it up the rest of the way and slipped inside. Thankfully she was small. Batman would never fit through that. She was inside a dark room. She saw a blinking red light in the center of the room. Igniting her hand, she looked over the device. She wasn't sure how to dismantle a bomb, "Batman," she was sure he'd be pissed at her, "listen, I have a bomb in front of me I know is real. Walk me through dismantling it."

Bruce knew she would do that. She was way too determined. When in reality, Batman just meant so much to her she wanted to keep him safe. It had nothing to do with her own safety. A deep breath escaped his nostrils, "Follow my instructions exactly." but he didn't look at it that way. He thought she was just being stubborn, "Open the small door," Chelsea did as she was told, "carefully pull the round red piece from the chamber, without touching the magnetic sides." She set the piece to the side, "Cut the remaining wires in the following order: blue, black and yellow striped, yellow, black… red."

Chelsea cut each one slowly and carefully. The lights turned off in the device and the timer stopped, "I got it." she told him.

Without knowing it, Batman was two floors below her dismantling the third and final bomb. He hadn't gotten to the top floor yet, "You need to leave." he instructed.

Chelsea was starting to lose her patience with him as she walked out into the hallway and search the rest of the building. She saw a door that was labelled, "Studio". When she peeked into the window, it was empty. That's when she heard a door open behind her and flipped around, in a fighting stance. She immediately let her guard down when she realized she was face to face with Batman, "I can't find Joker." she told him.

"I will find him," Batman stated, "He's my responsibility."

"Oh come on!" Chelsea barked, losing her temper, "He isn't your child Batman! He's a crooked criminal who just so happens to find amusement in making your life a living hell. Let me help! You think this is your burden alone, but it's not! It's all of Gotham. Did you ever stop and think that maybe someone wants to look out for you?"

Bruce couldn't help, but be a little surprised. No one had ever said it like that to him before.

"Oh look, if it isn't the Dork Knight himself," Harley Quinn exclaimed from behind Batman.

Chelsea had never seen any of Batman's villains face to face. Harley Quinn never seemed like a true evil doer before. Just some girl who was wrapped up in the wrong guy. It was so strange seeing her up close in her black and red jester costume.

"Quinn," growled Batman, "Where's Joker?"

"Mista J doesn't want you interrupting his show!" she pulled out a cannon, "So he entrusted me to keep you company for a while." She fired it and it blew a huge hole in the hallway. Anticipating a cloud of bat blood smeared across the wall, she was shocked to see a white light orb. The force field came down and there stood Batman with some blonde broad, "Hey, who the hell are you toots?" wondered Harley.

Batman couldn't believe how fast Chelsea had become. All that training with Flash had in fact made a difference. No one had ever tried to protect him before, "I'm a friend," Chelsea told Harley, "and I've got firepower too." her eyes glowed a hot white light as she bawled up her fist and fired warning shots in her direction. Harley wasn't expecting this and retreated quickly down a set of stairs, "They must be down in the basement," Chelsea murmured.

"You've improved," Bruce noted.

She gave him the thumbs up, "Listen, I know you have a hard time trusting people, and you have your reasons…" she started down the hallway and looked back at him, "but for what it's worth… I'll always have your back."

Bruce felt a warmth in his chest. He had no doubts when she said it. She meant what she said. He wanted to be there for her, as well. Always.

The end of the staircase led to a door that said, "Studio 2". When Chelsea opened the door she watched as Harley was sent spiralling to the ground. Joker had popped her across the face for not doing as she was told. Something cracked inside Chelsea's head, the moment she saw blood drip for Harley's nose. Joker's gaze turned to Chelsea. He wasn't expecting a new face. When their eyes met, she expected a chill or intimidation, but there was no room for that. All that was inside her was rage. She had this overwhelming feeling. And at a moment's notice, had Joker on the ground and was throwing punches at his face.

She was ripped off of him by Batman who was completely thrown off-guard by her reckless behavior. Tears burned down her face as she jerked away from his grip. What had happened? Chelsea had only been down here a half a second ahead of him.

"Mista J," Harley crawled over to Joker who was nearly unconscious, "please, no more," she begged, "don't hurt him anymore." Harley's eyes turned to Chelsea, "You're crueler than B-man!"

Chelsea felt a twinge of pain at Quinn's remark. When Batman turned to her again she was gone. Handcuffing the Mad Love couple to a pipe that was in the basement of the building, Batman called Commissioner Gordon and alerted him of their location. He then went in search for Chelsea, who hadn't gotten far. She was up on the building she had left her bag on. She furiously wiped her tears away, when Batman came up behind her. He had never seen her emotions so out of control, "Care to explain what happened back there?" he asked into the chill of the night air.

Chelsea recalled it like it was yesterday. It was the three year anniversary of course. She had come home from a week of college, expecting everything to be normal.

She stared at the streets, watching cop cars arrive to take Joker and Harley back to the asylum, "My dad is a raging alcoholic," she admitted, "he had never hit anyone before. He had a history of aggression, but did well to keep it under control… until three years ago. I came home. Found my mom being struck by him. She was black and blue. He slammed her head into a wall. They had to put her into a medically induced coma just to keep her alive on a feeding tube and I had to call the cops on my own father."

Bruce had no idea. He didn't know what to say.

"Speaking on behalf of your mother," asked the cop to Chelsea, "Would you like to press charges?"

Chelsea was still in shock, "Lock him up." she murmured.

"She's still there. Lying in that hospital bed, and he's still behind bars. Three years ago… and here I am… still dealing with it. The mental image never goes away… neither does the anger. I lost control," she covered her face, "Perhaps I'm no better than that monster… but when I saw Joker put his hands on Harley… I just wanted to protect her… I just wanted… to make up for my absence. I should have saved my mom…" she quietly sobbed to herself, "but I let her down. She was all alone…"

Bruce sat down beside her quietly, and draped his cape around her body, pulling her in close. He had no idea she had such a dark past. She always looked so happy. He had always done research on the members of the Justice League, but when it came to her… "Sometimes, the biggest demons are the ones who walk among us every day. We don't see it… because they matter to us. Harley doesn't see it. Neither did you."

Batman had never been this soft to her before. She rested her face against his arm pit, "I apologize… for my behavior."

Batman wasn't even worried about that anymore. He just wished he could be Bruce Wayne right now. He wanted to be able to take her pain away. He envied her ability to let loose the pain she felt. He hadn't done that since the night his parents died.

She abruptly pulled away from him and stood up. Flipping her bag over her shoulder she turned to him, "I'm going to head back home."

"The Watch Tower?" he asked.

"My apartment," she corrected, "I need to be alone. Collect my thoughts." She lowered herself to the ground behind the building and started the long walk home. When she looked back, Batman was gone. She sighed heavily and continued her solemn march. When she arrived at her apartment, she routinely tossed her keys in the bowl and put her backpack on the couch. She laid back on the couch, fighting with herself. She didn't really want to be alone. She hated being by herself. She wasn't used to it anymore, being surrounded by such great people at the Watch Tower. Perhaps she should call Wally? Or maybe even- She got to her feet and grabbed her keys, exiting the apartment once more.

There she stood in front of Wayne Manor. It was already eight o'clock. What if she came at a bad time? What if he wasn't even home? As she approached the door, she knocked, and waited. Alfred came to the door, his eyes widening with surprise when he saw it was her, "Miss Chelsea, what can I do for you this evening?"

"Is Mr. Wayne in?" she asked.

Alfred had been watching over Bruce the last few days very carefully. He seemed uneasy and more moody than usual. Chelsea coming here might lift his spirits, but to his knowledge, Batman was still out patrolling the night, "He's expected to be home soon, but I never know for sure."

"Oh," Chelsea's expression fell with disappointment, "Well, thank you, Alfred. Have a great evening…" she started to turn away.

"Please stay," Alfred requested, "I'm making Master Bruce's favorite meal this evening. I bet it would be a lovely surprise if you had dinner with him. You mean a lot to him, you know?" Alfred knew he was meddling, but when it came to Bruce, he was getting tired of him being so hard headed. Why couldn't he see that he was in love with this young woman? What would it take to make him see that?

"If you don't think he'll mind," Chelsea replied, stepping into the front door. She followed Alfred through the maze of a mansion into the rather large kitchen. Chelsea examined her surrounds carefully, "Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"By all means," nodded Alfred, turning on the industrial stove top with six burners.

"Do you think maybe… I could cook for him this evening?" she asked.

He was again caught off-guard by this girl, "You would like to cook for Master Bruce?" he asked. If Bruce didn't marry this woman, Alfred would scold him ten fold.

"I like to cook. Especially for the people who are important to me. I think meals have a power of bringing people together," Chelsea explained.

Alfred gestured to the large fridge, "Everything you could possibly think of is at your disposal. Do as you wish, Miss Chelsea. If I can be of assistance, just call for me." He pointed to the phone on the wall that had call numbers for each room in the house. Alfred left the room shortly after and made his way down to the Batcave. Once inside, he noticed Bruce had in fact returned. He took note of the face of the man he had on his large monitor, "Doing research sir?" asked the loyal butler.

"This man is Chelsea's father. I'm investigating his police file. Charged with domestic violence and assault." Bruce shook his head, as he pulled back his cowl and rested his cheek in his palm.

"Miss Chelsea is upstairs," Alfred informed.

Bruce's heart leapt up into his throat, as he turned his chair to face Alfred, "What?"

"She came here to see you, Master Bruce. I wasn't aware you had returned home. I thought you were still tying up loose ends with The Joker. She's got a surprise for you." Alfred told him, a smile appearing on his face.

Bruce ran his hand through his black, sweaty hair, "She's here…?"

"Why don't you get cleaned up? I bet you'll find her in the kitchen after you do." Alfred winked and wandered off to go clean something. He hoped his meddling might be for the better. Perhaps some romance would ensue.

Bruce wasn't quite sure what Alfred meant. He took a route through his house that allowed him to slip into his room without being detected by Chelsea who was currently making him dinner.

Chelsea probably bit off more than she could chew. It was Bruce Wayne for crying out loud. She didn't know how to make anything super fancy. She decided on fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn. Perhaps not the most fancy meal, but definitely a combination she had gotten good at making. She started to set the table, when she heard it, "You cook too?" she turned around to see Bruce standing in the doorway. His shoulders were rolled back. He had a button up white shirt with the sleeves rolled up just before his elbows, black pants and his usual polished shoes.

"I pitched the idea with Alfred and he ran with it." she had her hair pulled back into a bun with a clip. She had her usual red hoodie, jeans, and converse combo on. She felt so improper when she was here, "You work him too hard it seems."

Bruce cracked a smile and raised his eyebrow at her remark, "Is that what he told you?" he came forth and looked down deeply into her eyes. They still looked worn from her previous teary moment she had shared with Batman.

"I apologize for showing up uninvited…" she started to say, bring the plates of food over to the table, and completing any finishing touches left undone. She tucked a lock of stubborn hair behind her ear and smiled, "I know it's not what you're used to but-" she gestured her hand toward the table.

"It looks great," he told her, his eyes turning back to her. Pulling her chair out for her, he took a seat across the table and stared at her thoughtfully, "I have to be honest… I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Disappointed?" she asked.

"Hardly," he said, tilting his head.

"Why would you say that? I had a great time with you before," she told him, making her plate.

"I… thought I had ruined it with the way I left," Bruce couldn't help, but bring it up. It was all he could think about. With how she jumped at the chance to go on a date with Wally, he was sure he wouldn't hear from her again.

"Oh no," Chelsea waved it off, "I was worried I had offended you somehow." she admitted.

After Bruce's plate was made he started to chew a piece of the chicken. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he certainly didn't expect it to turn out so good, "You're an excellent cook." he told her, "You didn't offend me at all. The moment I left I started missing you." his eyes momentarily widened. Even he didn't expect that to come out of his mouth.

Chelsea smiled at him, "I appreciate your company. I had a rough day. You were the person I thought would make it better. It seems I was correct."

Bruce got a sympathetic look on his face, which didn't happen very often. She was still being herself even though she was so pained, "You want to tell me about it?" he offered, taking a drink of some wine from a wine glass.

She sighed and raised her shoulders, "Just… family stuff. The most normal family I have ever had is the-" she almost said The Justice League, "my group of friends I have now."

Bruce watched her stare at her plate in a far off place, "Once we finish dinner," he spoke up, "how about we watch that marathon you've owed me?"

She looked up at him and managed a smile, "I'd like that." she nodded.

The two settled down in the largest living room of the mansion. Inside was a rather large television, a big red velvet couch, and many other chairs scattered about the room. There was also a coffee table in front of the couch, and a small dining table in the corner with four chairs. A crystal chandelier hung above the couch. The switch on the wall allowed you to adjust the brightness. Bruce adjusted it to dim once she had put the DVD in the player. She sat down on the couch, with her feet tucked under her body. Bruce came up from behind her and wrapped a blanket around her. She smiled up at him and thanked him. Gingerly pulling the clip out of her hair, he briefly ran his fingers through it and then took a seat beside her, placing the clip on the coffee table.

The first episode of Gray Ghost started to play. They watched quietly, becoming invested into the storyline. Chelsea looked Bruce up and down. Examining the blanket on her, she noticed it was rather large. Without asking she wrapped half of it around Bruce and placed her head against his shoulder, snuggling up to him. She felt safest beside him, but wasn't sure why. A weary smile appeared on Bruce face from her actions. She was so warm. He didn't want to budge an inch for fear she would pull away. About three episodes in he felt her nuzzle herself onto his lap. Upon closer examination she had fallen asleep. He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then gently ran his fingers through her hair.

His heart sank when he saw a stray tear slide down her face. She must have been so restless when this day came around every year. He knew the feeling, glancing over at the picture who hung on the wall of his mother and father. Once the disc of Gray Ghost ended, Bruce used the remote to turn the television off. Picking her up with ease he made his way up the stairs to place her back in the room she stayed in before. As he pulled the blanket over her, her hand grabbed a hold of his. She tired eyes opened slightly, "Could you maybe… stay with me, for a while?"

He'd stay with her all night if that's what she wanted. He reached for a chair to sit in and watch over her, but she shook her head, "You can lay with me. I trust you…" her voice was faint and sleepy.

He very slowly slipped off his shoes and went to the opposite side of the bed. When he laid down she cautiously laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was surprisingly very fast. She never expected Bruce Wayne to be nervous with a woman. He stared up at the canopy above them, and wrapped his arm around her. He was wide awake. It was almost like the moment his head hit the pillow, he was seeing things more clearly. It had been a long time, but he felt it: fear. He was so terrified right now at the realizations that were becoming apparent to him right now. His eyes glanced down at the top of her head, then back to the canopy that hung above them.

"What am I going to do?" he was having a mental conversation with his father. He did this whenever he felt confused or lost. It was all in his imagination, but it helped him sort out his thoughts.

His father's voice rang in his ears, "Accept it."

"What is there to accept?" wondered Bruce.

"You know," His father protested, "but you must be willing to admit it to yourself, or you will drive yourself crazy. You've been denying it so long you can barely see straight anymore."

Bruce rubbed his forehead, developing a headache, "But this has never happened before. Even if I do accept it, then what?"

"Always trying to be three steps ahead, aren't you my son?" Thomas chuckled. It was typical Bruce, "Try as you will, you can't be. Not in this situation." Bruce couldn't say anything so Thomas Wayne continued, "You struggle because you don't have control over this. It frightens you for that reason. This is the one emotion one cannot control, because our hearts do it for us. You've been ignoring your heart for far too long son."

"But what about you and mother?" Bruce argued, "I created Batman to avenge you both. I am Batman. My first priority will always be to fix what went wrong. To help others."

"Did you ever stop and think that maybe someone wants to look out for you?" His father repeated what was said to him by Chelsea earlier that day, "You can choose to continue to run away from this issue, but it will never go away. The longer you ignore it, the stronger it will become, and by the time you let it out… it may be too late to do anything about it. Say it. Say it to yourself. Let yourself be free, Bruce. Your mother and I love you, very very much, but we never needed the Batman, to do that. We just do. No matter what happened in the past, you are our son, and we love you." Bruce felt himself tear up, "Forgive yourself for what you couldn't control in the first place. Be happy. Find the joy in your life. That's what we wanted. All any parent ever wants for their child."

"I don't want to get hurt again…" admitted Bruce.

"That's all you ever do Bruce. Hurt yourself. Stop! Say it! Admit to yourself the truth." his father instructed.

"I love her…" he winced, "I go to work, I think about her. I go to sleep, she's there. I fight crime, and I remember how I let her down. I see her with someone else and I die inside wishing it was me. Wishing I was the one she would share her laughter with. I love her. I love her more than anything." Bruce started to openly cry. It felt like the flood gate in his chest had burst wide open.

Chelsea lifted her head and shook Bruce's shoulder, "Bruce you're having a nightmare."

He lifted his head to look at her in the darkness. His eyes still dripping. He took a deep breath, and laid his head back down.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

It wasn't a nightmare. It was the first time he hadn't been haunted by nightmares. He pulled her in closer and didn't say a word.

Chelsea laid her head back down and held him tight.

"I love her… but I refuse to act on it." he told himself, closing his eyes. Tonight he would enjoy her warmth and company, but once the sun came up that would be it. He would start down the path that ensured she'd never know, and that would allow him to continue the life he had always lived: alone.