A/N I'm sorry it took so long, like months really, but I just finished this yesterday, and was going to post it but the internet spazzed out. Now for the excuses for not posting it in past months, I was in summer school after school ended, mind you, I never failed anything in my life, I just wanted something to do with my summer, when that ended I went to EFY, and started work, by the time I found the willpower to finish this chapter, the internet was broken and got fixed this past week. So, sorry. Read on.

Chapter 3

I had been right. It didn't end well. Bruce left Falcone's restaurant, and just disappeared. Rachel came to us in tears on Sunday morning, my 18th birthday, saying how it was her fault that Bruce went missing. Alfred was depressed, I could tell. He tried to hide it, but whenever he was sad, he cooked. We ate well that day. Doubly so, because it was my birthday. I mentioned my birthday was taboo, right?

I had my therapy session with Dr. Crane the next day. He was slightly more emotional than the week before. I burst into tears the moment he asked the first question.

"Kristen?" Dr. Crane asked warily. "Are you okay?" I shook my head.

"It's all my fault!" I wailed.

"What's your fault?" He asked confused.

"It's my fault that Bruce left. It was my birthday, and bad things always happen on my birthday. If the trial had been a week later, he wouldn't have left!" The rational side of my brain was telling me that none of this made sense, but it was quickly squashed by the small part of my brain that was overcome with emotion. "And Alfred's sad, and there's nothing I can do about it. And-" Dr. Crane cut me off.

"You do realize that none of that makes any sense, right?" I nodded miserably. I had thought this through, but for some reason I couldn't convince myself that it wasn't my fault. "Good. Now, what happened." I took a deep breath to calm myself, and then began.

"Bruce is gone. Poof! Disappeared. Rachel came and told us on Sunday, which by the way was my birthday. She was in tears for most of the day. He had given some hobo his coat, and stowed away on one of the Wayne Enterprise ships leaving the harbor. We don't know where he went, or what he's doing, or if he's even alive!" My voice rose as my anger built up. "Does he even know what he's doing to Alfred! Does he realize the impact this has on the people he left behind?"

Dr. Crane looked slightly confused, not at my explanation, but at my sudden mood change.

"What just happened? You went from hysterical to raging mad, in what, two minutes?" He looked incredulous. I sighed.

"Ignore it." I said offhandedly, "They happen all the time." Dr. Crane shook his head. I rolled my eyes, nudging my contact lens out of place, I blinked and shook my head in an effort to get it back in place.

"What was that?" Dr. Crane asked, sighing.

"I had to get my contact back into place." I answered. I could feel the tears coming back. These mood swings were getting old.

"You have contacts?" He asked, bewildered. "How come this isn't in your medical file?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. But I got one in my right eye. I have glasses also, but I only wear them when I have to take my contact out, or it falls out, and then I don't put it back in until I'm forced to. I hate it." I ended my ramble, nodding.

"Well, since I've been your doctor long enough to know that the typical psychology won't work with you, we're just going to talk." Dr Crane said, setting down his notebook and pen and leaning back. A thought struck me, I looked up pondering.

"I wonder if I have enough rotten bananas to make banana bread." I mused. "I don't know." I shrugged.

"Okay, 'Mood swings still present.'" He dictated to himself as he snatched up his notebook again.

My lower lip quivered. "I'm crazy, aren't I. Aren't I?" I burst into tears. Again.

Dr. Crane sighed. "No, you're not. Just emotionally overloaded. You'll be fine." I took a deep breath to get my head on straight. I nodded.

"Can I go now?" I asked quietly. He nodded. I stood up and the blonde orderly let me out.

My psychiatrist wasn't just my psychiatrist anymore. He was my friend, my confidant. I told him anything and everything. Eventually I was considered sane enough to not need weekly visits. I went twice a month. Every other Tuesday. Every time the blonde orderly was there. Her name was Dr. Harleen Quinnzel. She was on her residency, just a year left to go before she could get certified.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. I stared at the ceiling, not really looking at anything. Just, thinking.

I was pulled out of my reverie when Alfred walked into my bedroom. He looked at me still in bed, amused.

"Do you know what time it is?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Nope." I answered, "But I'm sure you're going to tell me, so. Alfred, What time is it?" I asked smirking.

"It's noon." He replied. "Now get up. We're going to go to the grocery store. Then, maybe if you're good, you can have ice cream after." I perked up at the mention of a frozen treat.

"Okay, I'm up." I said climbing out of bed. I hopped into the shower for a quick wash, then pulled on some jeans and a sweatshirt. Pulling my converse on, I hopped down the stairs to meet up with Alfred.

"All dressed." I announced once in his line of sight. "What now?" I asked eagerly.

"Now, we're off to the store." He answered as he grabbed the keys off the table.

"Can we get juice?" I asked as we walked out the door. "We're out of juice. We need some more, preferable the cranberry-pomegranate kind, but failing that, juice boxes would be nice too." I rambled on as we pulled out of the gate surrounding the estate.

"Yes, Kristen. We can get some juice." Alfred chuckled, amused.

"Good."

The days passed quickly. Soon the fall semester of school started. I had applied to Gotham University last fall, getting in hadn't been a problem. I had gotten a scholarship, not that I necessarily needed one. Although I was quiet and shy, I was still a fairly good student. My lowest GPA ever had been a 3.85. I was majoring in Psychology.

I still had my twice-monthly visits to Arkham Asylum. Alfred had been all set to stop them one week, he didn't feel that they could help any more than they had. They probably couldn't have, but I wasn't sure I would be able to see Dr. Crane, or Jonathon as I started to call him in my head, if he had stopped the visits. I convinced him to let me keep the appointments until either Dr. Crane or I saw fit to end them.

My four years in college passed uneventfully, Bruce still hadn't shown up. Alfred had kept looking for him up until I turned 20. After two years he decided that if Bruce wanted to be found, we would find him, and evidently he didn't want to be found. Everything was the same day after day, week after week. Shortly after my 22nd birthday, just after I had completed the education I wanted, something changed.

Dr. Crane became more distracted, more jumpy. I was pretty sure something was wrong. Maybe he had met somebody, maybe someone was pressuring him into doing something. I know he was proficient at Chemistry, so he could have made a new drug or something. All I knew was that something had happened, and everything would change.

A/N Also, as a side note, I don't post anything until it is at least 1,000 words so that could be a contributer to the not being very quick about posting. Just FYI.

Thanks to all the reviewers, please review again! yay. Thanks. :)