Hours

By Tammy Kushnir

This is a new tale that got stuck in my head. First chapter is up. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Some background is borrowed from Batman Begins (great movie) to answer several pesky questions like how did Alfred get Bruce off of the roof? What was Bruce thinking during his time under the toxin? Will it help explain Bruce's past? Hope so.

Chapter 1

Batman had felt himself falling out of a three story building. His senses had been dampened with the fresh scent of kerosene and the heat from the fire it set. Batman felt the agony as his body bumped into metal and concrete. He landed with a thud onto the ground. The people below gawked out of curiosity and fear as the clipped bat struggled to get to his feet. Batman shot a grappling hook to the nearest rooftop. He pulled himself up and collapsed to the ground. Batman's breathing was erratic and the fear toxin was beginning to place deep roots into his thoughts. Batman rolled onto his back smoldering any reaming flames as he pulled out a cell phone to make a call, "Alfred," he rasped.

Alfred, please hurry he prayed.

Alfred awoke from dozing when he heard the phone ring. He immediately grabbed it and tried his best to sound alert.

"Hello, Wayne residence."

Alfred couldn't hear anything at first. Then came several gasping breathes. Alfred's heart raced as he looked at the time. It was 12 am. Bruce….

"Master Wayne?" Alfred questioned.

All he could hear were gentle sobs and a plea to go home. He sounded so young…

"I am on my way, sir."

Alfred dropped the phone and ran to the door. Only one other time in his life had his heart beat so fast: one time for the cry of an 8 year old boy.

When Alfred reached the place where the tracking device had led him to, he felt the misery seep through his own body. No wonder Bruce is always brooding. I would be too if I came here every night, he thought.

Alfred began to make his way through the garbage bags that littered the alley. Rats scampered away under his feet. Alfred never realized how much he treasured the company of the bats as opposed to this vermin until now.

He continued to look for Bruce, but he was no where in sight. Alfred took another look at the tracking device. According to this, he should be right here.

Bruce found himself having hard time breathing. The images of the bats were becoming overwhelming. On top of that, he saw bats swarming around his parents lifeless bodies as they devoured their flesh.

"No, "Bruce whispered. He crawled over to the edge of the roof. His parents seemed to keep moving farther and further away from him each time he tried to get close. Bruce looked skyward and noticed the bats rising higher. Bruce peered over the edge of the roof only to see Alfred standing in the middle of the alley.

"Alfred, "Bruce murmured. It was a sound barely audible but Alfred sensed it and looked up to the roof. He could smell the burnt Kevlar and flesh on Bruce.

My God, what had they done to you? Alfred thought.

"Can you get down sir?"

Bruce looked behind Alfred for a moment trying to plan his next move when there HE was. It couldn't be. Bruce knew logically that Chill was dead. He had seen that with his own eyes. Then again, there he was. .Chill was walking steadily behind Alfred slowly raising a gun to his temple.

"No," Bruce shouted. With all of the force he had left, he threw a batarang which knocked the phantom Chill out cold and throwing himself off balance. Bruce was falling once again.

Alfred looked up when he heard Bruce's cry. He quickly ducked thinking that the batarang was intended for him. Alfred didn't know exactly what Bruce was experiencing, but knew that it wasn't good.

When he realized it was safe, he gazed back up at his ward and saw relief when their eyes met. Then Alfred saw his charge take a tumble off the roof.

Bruce fell. He fell off the roof and into the well of memories preparing him to be covered in screeching bats. The impact to his back even with the Kevlar caused him to cry out in pain. Weakness, Bruce thought. Even the bats know I am weak.

Alfred bent down immediately. He heard Master Bruce stifle a cry barely audible, but Alfred knew that even a whisper meant the pain was bad. God, Alfred thought, he smelled. He smelled like fire. Someone had set him on fire, thought Alfred. Trying to suppress the need to vomit he instinctively reached out to touch Bruce's face searching for injuries. Bruce pulled up his arms defensively. He only used one arm. He began swinging it around trying to push winged beings away. Alfred tried to calm him down. Bruce was wildly rocking his body to the point of convulsions.

"Alfred!" He rasped. "Alfred!" he kept screaming it over and over again.

"Please…" it was said in such small voice.

Alfred tried his best to mask his own tears while gripping the hand of Master Bruce.

"I'm here, son. I'm here." Alfred could barely make out his own voice.

Bruce's eyes finally focused on Alfred.

"Did he hurt you?" Alfred unsure of whom Master Bruce was referring to, but decided to play along.

"No, Master Wayne. I am fine." He paused, "And you, sir?"

Bruce closed his eyes while imagined fears changed faster than his brain could keep up with.

"My arm. I hurt it when I fell into this well. Can you get me out? It's so dark in here."

Alfred nodded and helped the young man to his feet while taking one last look at the rats scurrying through the trash.

"It is quite dark indeed, sir."

A little background. Updates soon. Reviews are welcomed!