Chapter 6 : One Sick Billionaire

Bruce Wayne was in the manor's library sitting on the hardwood, busy typing on the keyboard of his Apple laptop when Alfred entered carrying a tray of his usual breakfast; a tall glass of orange juice and dark Rye bread toasted with apple butter.

"I trust you had another eventful evening," Alfred said nonchalantly, as he placed the tray next to a pile of medical books. Gazing over them, he could see they we're about blood types and known toxins. Bruce kept his eyes focused on the LD screen. He looked a bit more paler than usual lately, much to Alfred's concern.

"Master Wayne,"

Bruce shifted a gaze to his butler. "Alfred, sorry I didn't hear you," he mumbled. Alfred startled by how vacant in his eyes were. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or something else but his master looked to be, for the lack of a better term, "out of it".

Alfred gestured to the pile of books on the table. "What's all this for?"

"Research." Bruce explained. "Something didn't fit about the two Jane Doe blood types. One of the female's was type A and the second victim, the male, was type B. Both of them were supposed to be the same substance but I can't be sure that they died the same way."

He closed the lap top and arose off the floor. Slowly. Alfred noticed.

"...Would these be the same victims that were found in the alley way two nights ago, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked curious.

Bruce nodded.

"Gordon had one of his detectives swap a blood sample from Gotham General last night. It was from the victims that were sent to the city morgue. The thing I am puzzled about was the two dead cats they discovered in the trash can. I checked the report from the vet this morning and it stated that there were traces of human DNA within the two animals blood."

"Human DNA in a cat?" Alfred asked arching up an eyebrow. "What do you think that means sir,"

Bruce crossed his arms and began to go deep into thought. His lip curved as he turned his head to the book shelf. "It means that someone is hiding something." He paused. "Two children went missing on the night when both victims were found by GCPD. Their bodies haven't been recovered."

"So you're assuming the children are dead?"

A long harrowing silence filled the air as disturbing thoughts filled Bruce's mind on this subject. "The cats." He dark hazel green eyes widened. "The two black cats represent the two missing children."

"Oh my." As preposterous as the idea sounded, Alfred never doubted his master's competency in detective skills.

"I need to get a closer look at the sample of the cats blood."

"This looks like a job for a certain Fox doesn't it sir?"

Bruce nodded gulped down the glass of juice and head out the doorway. Despite how sickly his Master appeared a moment ago, renewed fire seemed to ignite him as he set to purpose.

"By the way, you might want to wipe off Miss Kyle's smeared lip stick."

"How did you know it was Selina's?"

"I never forget that shade of crimson. I've seen it too many times. But what about Miss Countess?"

"Look Selina came on to me. I was trapped." He replied recalling the last 5 hours.

"I've heard that one before. Just be careful. Having two women can lead to danger."

"Alfred, Selina and I are just good friends..." He said timidly as though feeling a bit unsure of himself.

"Friends that kiss when no one is looking."

Alfred could tell that his master was at the crossroads of a choice to be with Selina or the new women in his life Vedette Countess. The wise old butler trusted Selina, she was a good friend to him but Vedette he just couldn't figure out why he sensed deception within her.

As Bruce was about to talk he felt vile creeping up this throat. Alfred immediately wished he hadn't brought up this subject as the fire he saw in his master's eyes seemed to diminish along with his condition. Bruce's hands clenched his stomach as he groaned.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred paced over to the young man. "Sir are you alright?"

Bruce looked at Alfred, his eyes became blurry and then he spat up vile along with the juice he recently consumed onto the floor.

"Master Wayne," Alfred wrapped his arm around Bruce. "Come on, let's get you to the bathroom."

"No Alfred. I have work to do." Bruce replied as yellow saliva dripped from his mouth onto his sweater. Alfred reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and used it to clean the mess left on Bruce's face and clothes.

"I'm afraid you're taking the day off sir. Sorry but this is out of your hands."

Bruce remembered that he had a date with Vedette in the evening.

"Vedette is coming to dinner." He tried to swallow the vomit back instead it arose in his throat making him spit up again. Bruce felt his muscles start to constrict and ache like if he just ran a marathon. He spat out the vile in his mouth with disgust and panted. "Sorry Alfred," He said looking at the mess he made on the nice clean floor.

"You have nothing to apologize. I'm more concerned about you than the floor. Now I will call Miss Countess and cancel your dinner arrangement."

Bruce shook his head slowly. "No. I'll be fine. Just need to take a cat nap."

Both man entered the small bathroom on the main floor near the kitchen. Alfred flicked on the light as Bruce walked to the toilet, flipped open the lid and knelt down. Sweat was pouring out of him as he released the vile. Alfred was running a cloth under cold water.

"What's happening to me Alfred?" The billionaire asked as he winced. "I never get sick. My body is always in peak condition."

Alfred stood next to his master and placed the cold cloth on Bruce's head. He could sense something was amiss with his master since this morning but now he wasn't quite sure what it was.

"It must of been something you ate."

He offered the only excuse that came to his mind. Bruce shook his head looking at the mess. "No. I..." He trailed off as though he were debating his next choice of words. He exhaled heavily and rubbed his forehead. "I started feeling like this when I cut myself on that cat statue. The symptoms weren't so severe then. It was only mild dizziness, then chills but now its nausea and... soreness. I don't know how else to put it, but my muscles are stiff right now."

Alfred stood silent in thoughts as he placed the rag on Bruce's forehead. "For all I know the statue could've been doused with a deadly poison," Bruce theorized. Alfred regarded him with a condescending look.

"And you didn't think that was worth mentioning or looking into then?"

Bruce's only response was an exhausted sigh. "Stubborn boy," Alfred said.

In the basement of an abandoned complex, Vedette sat at a table looking at a vile of ashes. They were the remains of Blackstone. She had remorse in her eyes as she thought about Selina Kyle. She could only imagine the sickening and yet humorous ways the Joker would kill her rival and if anything she'd say she fancied his style and imagination.

A gifted killer, she thought admirably though not someone she wished to work with beyond their necessary partnership in dealing with the Bat and his feline friend. She sets her thoughts of the clown aside as she sees Syde her right-hand man enter the room. "The child is ready for you my mistress."

"Is the blood fresh?" Vedette growled.

"I believe so. She looks healthy."

"That doesn't matter. When the blood was draining from her veins what was the color? Dark red or crimson?"

Syde paused. "Crimson."

Vedette's green-eyes glowed with delight as she smiled sinisterly. "Perfect." Vedette arose and placed the black cat mask over her head and became Nuita. "Has the Joker arrived?"

"Not yet. He's taking care of some unfinished business with a few cops in the meat locker."

"We're so close Syde. So close to completing our mission in cleansing this city. We just need a few more children to devour and then the time of the cat will be at hand once the witches moon reflects off the waters of Gotham Bay." She stared off into space with a dangerous smile. "Then we will have our reckoning."

"What about the Batman?"

"He will be nothing once he sees the surprise I have in stored for him. After all his kitten only has one life to spare." She grabbed the vial of ashes and handed it to him. "I want you to make sure the Mayor's evening meal is well seasoned."

Syde nodded. "Where will you be heading after your pleasant conversation with the child?"

"Wayne Manor."

A few minutes later ... Nuita entered the locked room and flicked on the light. Sitting in a steel chair was a small child. The frightened girl looked to be around 10 years old.

"Hello my dear," She hissed. "I hope you're comfortable?"

"Where's my mommy?"

"Shhh... don't worry you'll see her real soon."

"What do you want with me?"

Vedette smiled under her mask as she stood and faced the child. "How old are you my dear?"

"Nine."

"Nine. Did you know cats have nine lives?"

The child didn't respond.

"Tell me do you like cats?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever wish that you could be one?"

The child appeared confused but then nodded.

"Perfect." Vidette said with delight.

"Can I go home?"

"Of course. I just want to give you a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?"

"Close your eyes. Don't peek."

The nine year old closed her eyes as Nuita removed her dagger from her overcoat and walked behind seat like a predator. "I'm going to count to three and I want you to tell me your name." She ordered. "1, 2, 3."

"Vera."

Nuita raised the blade. "Well Vera. It was so nice to meet you but I'm sorry we're going to have to end this conversation. For I have lost interest in you." She slashed the child's throat and listened to the fatal scream.

"I love hearing innocents scream. It's so delightful for my soul."

The child's head rolled back.

"What ever should I do with you?" Nuita questioned. "Place you in the oven until your body becomes ash, send you gift wrapped to the Commissioner of police or maybe I'll just turn your dead lifeless soul into a cat and leave it for the Batman. So many choices."

She removed the vial of red liquid and poured it on the body. Instantly the child's form became a small cat. If the Joker were present, Nuita had no doubt he'd be laughing uncontrollably at the punchline to this murder. He does loves jokes, Nuita thought as she looked over the dead "girl" who wanted to be cat.

"I must say you look much better." Nuita pulled off the mask. "Now for the billionaire."

In the master bedroom of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne the most daring and handsome billionaire of Gotham and maybe even America woke up in a panic state. The silk bed sheets drenched with sweat twisted uncomfortably around him. His face was livid and covered with tears and unwanted perspiration. He swiped away the sorrow with the back of his hand.

With steady impulse he pulled the covers off his frail body then slowly walked over to the large floor mirror, opposite the king-sized bed.

When he was a boy it was times like this when his father came in and treated his illness' and soothed his worries and now Bruce found himself wanting, missing those days dearly. Though he had Alfred to help him the same way, times weren't as simple nor joyous now as they we're for him then. He gazed upon himself in the mirror and grimaced at his discolored features. He looked like a man who hadn't slept in a week.

Traces of the young boy that was once there were very visible in his dark hazel green intense eyes that now had dark circles beneath. His kissable lips and his dark chocolate brown hair that was always neatly comb was greasy and shaggy looking. His pale skin made his scars more visible. His torso and shape itself looked... leaner. As if he hadn't eaten in longer than a week.

Bruce looked harder and realized that he no longer looked like a Wayne. There were no traces of his mother's lovely elusive smile or his father's strong features. Nothing except a sickly swelled up form of a man that was cursed to live in solitude without good memories. "Why is this happening to me?" He thought angrily, fists clenched. His eyes began to water. Years of restrained rage and grief that he'd kept bottled inside we're threatening to break free.

With a strangled yell, he pushed the mirror down and watched it shattered to the floor in dozens of pieces. He watched them shatter, he felt his own resolve doing the same. Slowly, he knelt down covering his face with his hands.

Alfred came running into the bedroom.

"Master Wayne, is everything alright?"

He saw his master on the floor staring lifelessly into space next to a broken mirror. Silent tears trail down his face. Alfred was at his side immediately, "Master Wayne!"

"Leave me alone Alfred!" Bruce snapped out of frustration. "I just want to be left alone."

The old butler placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "It's alright Master Wayne." He assured him in the way his father used to.

Bruce wiped away the tears from his eyes that were created by his high fever. He looked at his friend skeptically.

"Alright? Alfred, look at me."

Alfred looked at his young master who looked unsettling different than what he was three days ago. Much more sickly and it discouraged Alfred to say: broken. But despite all the changes he still loved him because he knew that what was inside was all that counted.

"This is not how I'm supposed to look," he says quietly.

"What ever do you mean?" Alfred asked. "I see nothing wrong with you."

"Nothing?" Bruce snapped. "I look like a corpse Alfred!"

"Everyone gets sick."

Bruce's lips tightened. "Not me." He released a heavy breath and leaned his head backwards against the wall. "How can I be Batman, or Bruce Wayne when I look and feel like this?" He asked mostly to himself than Alfred. The Batman was determined to work no matter how bad he looked or felt, but he also knew the danger his condition would put him and others in the field.

Bruce Wayne felt mostly concerned about hiding his appearance from his new lady friend. "Vedette..." Bruce said suddenly. "Did you tell her I'm sick?"

Alfred crossed his arms. "I tried to get a hold of Miss Vedette but I all I got was her voice box." Bruce gave no response as he continued to stare into space with a blank look. Alfred shook his head. "It'll do neither you nor Miss Vedette any good for you to be in this state, especially should she show up this evening." He stood up and headed for the doorway.

"Alfred?" Bruce called out, not turning to his gaze away from the space in front of him.

The butler turned around. "Yes Master Wayne?"

"Did Selina call?"

Alfred shrugged. "I'm afraid not. Were you excepting to hear from Miss Kyle?"

"No. I just thought..." He trailed off. "I should take a shower." He steadily pulls himself up off the floor, avoiding the pieces of broken mirror.

"Very good sir. What will you be wearing for the evening?"

"Bruce Wayne's usual costume: dress shirt and pants." Bruce replied as he walked towards the bedroom's bath and closed the door.

"Of course sir." Alfred said quietly.

Two hours later...

Vedette Countess stepped out of the yellow Gotham Taxi cab and slammed the door. She hated taxi drivers in this city; they would not stop their lascivious flirtations and attempts at getting her phone number. If she had no clear purpose here in Gotham she'd happily make them suffer. Twas no matter she reminded herself. Once she was done with the Bat, the rest of his city would fall after. The taxi driver honks his horn and lets loose a wolf-whistle in her direction. Vedette sneered her eyes at the vehicle. "Soon," she thought haughtily.

She walked up the steps to the manor and rang the door bell. Moments later Alfred opened the door and gave her a welcoming smile as she entered.

"Miss Countess, please do come in. Master Wayne is upstairs getting ready."

Vedette grins with her crimson stained lips. "Do you always answer the door for your master?" She asked, mildly curious.

"Yes. It is my job; that and taking care of Master Wayne."

"You really do care for Bruce don't you? Almost like a father." Vedette regarded him admirably.

Alfred offered a modest nod. "Something like that. But I can never replaced Thomas Wayne. Now if you follow me I will bring you to the dining room."

Vedette looked at the butler and waited for him to make a turn down the hall. She quickly bolted up the stairs and headed to the master bedroom.

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed. His dark hair was drenched with sweat as Vedette knocked softly on the door. He turned and saw her standing in the door way, observing him with a satisfied grin. Her gaze held a hint of lustful intent.

"Vedette," he gasped, standing onto his feet feeling unbalanced. "I was supposed to meet you downstairs." He took the moment to look over her appearance. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose bun, her green eyes surrounded with mascara and lips pasted with blood-red lipstick. She also wore a dark green blouse and a black skirt. Both articles of clothing hugged her curves enticingly. He felt a small blush rise to his neck.

"I thought I would save you the trouble handsome." She stepped away from the door and moved into the room slowly.

Bruce paused for a moment. Only Selina called him that. Vedette moved in closer, her ice green eyes staring him down as he backed away unconsciously.

"Vedette. You shouldn't be up here." For some unknown reason he felt unnerved by her sudden presence up here.

"Why afraid that your butler will catch me kissing you?" she lightly teased.

"You don't know Alfred." Bruce commented. "He's very protective over me."

"Just like Selina Kyle?" Her voice turned sour. Bruce stiffened at this conversation.

"Vedette about yesterday. I'm sorry; I don't know what came over her."

"I can see that she cares for you. We're you too once..."

"Just good friends."

She looked over him with denial. "Bruce men and women can't be just 'good friends'. There was something going on between you two wasn't there?" She looked down at the floor and noticed a few broken shards of mirror. "What happened?" She pointing at the floor.

"Nothing." Bruce quickly said grimacing. He felt dizzy. "Sorry I'm just not in the mood to eat." Vedette observed him knowingly, feeling immense satisfaction at his demeanor.

"What wrong?" Vedette asking pretending to care. "Got cat scratch fever?"

"No. I'm just feeling a little out of sorts. I've haven't been sleeping well. Too many late night parties."

"I know something that can make you feel better." She placed her hand on his chest that felt boney and leaned her head forward. Bruce was a little hesitant to kiss her compared to the last time. After all she was still a stranger. He only shared his lips passionately with two women: Rachel Dawes and Selina Kyle. His eyes looked at the cat head pendant.

"Come on Brucie, kiss me. You know you want too," she purred, a dark hunger in her eyes that left was unsettling. Bruce's willpower was strong. "I'm not in the mood Vedette."

Her facial expression became sour as she crashed her lips onto his.

Bruce began to feel drained as he pulled away from her seduction. "I think you should go. I'm not feeling well and I'm afraid I won't make very good company."

Vedette masked her delight with a sympathetic look. "Alright. I understand."

Bruce nodded. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep handsome," Vedette said as she exited the bedroom. "Because you might not be around to fulfill them."

One hour later...

Batman stood on the ledge of the Gotham Radio Tower listening to the police dispatch. He was finding it hard to move, his body ached too much to even attempt the idea.

He sighed deeply, clearing his mind and focusing on the pain that was coursing through every fiber of his body. Using a meditative method that he learned when he was in Asia he focused on pushing the pain away. He breathed in deeply and held it and then release. Closing his eyes and relaxed his mind and listened to the sound of his own heart beat pulsing through his chest.

Soon the sharp agonizing pain faded away to nothing more than a few dull aches in his joints. His throat burned and his fever was getting worse.

Batman felt dizzy as he slowly lifted himself up and then fell again.

"No," he winced as he felt his body starting to give out. "Not now."

He pressed the radio transmitter in his cowl.

"Alfred," he coughed. "Alfred, are you there?"

"Always Master Wayne," the old butler replied. "How are you feeling sir?" The concern was evident in his voice.

Batman coughed. "Lousy. Have you heard from Selina?" He asked worried.

"Not yet sir,"

Alfred could hear the sound of his master wheezing and coughing. "Sir I think you should call it a night. You're not well."

"No. I have to…" he felt sick, the vomit coming up his throat again. "Gotham needs me." He groaned aloud.

"Master Wayne, listen to me sir. You're not well. You're of no use to the people of Gotham in this condition especially if trouble should find you. Come home at once." There was a rare hint of anger in Alfred's voice that Bruce felt obliged to listen to.

"Alright Alfred," he said in hoarse voice tone. "Right after I see Selina."

"I'm sure Miss Kyle is fine. You know how she likes to be private and independent."

"No. Something's wrong Alfred."

It was almost 3:00 A.M when Batman climbed up the fire escape stairwell that lead to Selina's apartment. He stepped into the apartment, his long cape dragging on the floor. "Selina," he called.

Selina awoke from a deep sleep and muttered. "Who is it?"

"It's me," he replied in a deep tone.

Selina shot up from her couch with surprise and looked at Batman. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I needed someone to talk too."

"What about your new girlfriend?" She asked bitterly.

Batman shrugged. "Vedette is not my girlfriend."

The tone of his voice caused some alarm. Observing the Batman closely, Selina could see he was a bit slouched in his stance. Selina arose from the couch and walked closer to the dark knight. "Why are you here?" She asked but then noticed the pale flesh tone of his face. It was ghostly white, if she had knew no better she'd have assumed he just had a run in with the Joker and his twisted machinations.

"What's happening to you Bruce?"

He looked away from her observing eyes. "Nothing."

"Stop being so prideful handsome and tell me."

Batman looked into her deep brown eyes. He pulled off the cowl to reveal a sickly looking Bruce Wayne.

"Bruce," Selina gasped. "No." She placed her hand on his cheek. "Oh handsome, who did this too you?"

"I don't know. I've been feeling these effects ever since I cut myself on that cat statue." He said quietly. Selina turned around and moved to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"Sit down."

"I don't want any anything Selina."

"Sit down Bruce." She ordered. Bruce rolled his eyes and moved to the couch. He plopped down sitting on his long cape.

"Now tell me the symptoms."

"Since when do you care about me Selina?" He growled out annoyingly.

"I care Bruce because I..." Like so many times, she paused short of completing her desired sentence. He arose and picked up the cowl and quickly and pulled it over his face.

"Where are you going?" She looked at him with confusion.

"Gotham Museum." He stepped outside to the balcony. "You coming?"

She smiled with a sense of thrill.