Selina watched him over the rim of the delicate china cup allowing the heat from the tea to warm her chilled fingertips before sipping tentatively at the steaming beverage. She smiled into the cup as Bruce distractedly ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair before sluggishly pushing up out of bed and shrugging into his father's robe.

His sleepy eyes finally found her sitting by the window and he huffed a laugh at the obvious merriment present in his wife's eyes. My wife. Bruce heaved a satisfied breath and held it in his lungs a moment.

"So, no less in love today than before yesterday's nuptials, is that right then, sir?" Alfred did not pause for a response, electing instead to move from his stoic stance beside Selina to pour an aromatic blend of coffee into a simple white mug, the common style of which the master expressed preference. With an imperially lifted brow, the proper butler assessed Selina wrapped happily in Wayne's purple robe failing to hide a bright smile. "Hopeless cases, the both of you."

Selina chuckled as she reseated her cup delicately into its matching saucer. "Mr. Pennyworth I think you are the most pleased of us all, truth be told."

Alfred sniffed with feigned superiority before acquiescing with a solemn nod, "That might well be the case, Mrs. Wayne."

Bruce evaluated Selina's reaction to hearing her new title. Hard swallow...subtle widening of her eyes…slight tremor in hand just enough to chatter the teacup before rebalancing it steadily atop the saucer…abject terror it is then. He huffed another laugh as he collected his coffee cup from the small marble-topped bistro table. Leave it to matrimony to unnerve the seemingly fearless feline. Well, this was uncharted territory. Bruce gave Alfred an evaluating once over as well. Dutiful attendance under shadowed by hopeful curiosity tempered with a bit of protective fatherly concern…uncharted territory for us all to be sure.

Bruce sipped his coffee as he looked thoughtfully out the window over the grounds of the manor, his mind actively working on the problems that had never fully left his thoughts. SHIELD…HYDRA…the Joker.

Alfred obviously recognized the familiar look after years of service as he watched the master of the manor with cool expectancy, "I suppose a quiet Sunday repose for the newly wedded is not in the realm of possibilities?"

Bruce cut his eyes from the view of the freshly manicured lawn to assess Selina's response to the possibility of their time together being curtailed by his duty to Gotham. Selina did not disappoint as her lips turned up into an expectant smile. "Something on for us today, husband?"

The satisfied smile that broke free at her question and her less than subtle assumption her assistance would be needed garnered another unsolicited observation from Alfred. "I will be forever grateful you both found one another." He settled the tea service and coffee carafe onto a gleaming silver tray while he fussed. "No one else on the bloody planet would be able to navigate a relationship with either of you."

The delighted smile that burst across Selina's face at Alfred's chiding brought a chuckle from Wayne as he sipped his coffee. "What can I say, Alfred, we were fortuitous in our union."

Smiling tolerantly at the beaming billionaire Alfred was forced to agree, "Most fortuitous indeed, sir. Will you require my assistance with your endeavors today as well, Master Wayne?"

"Of course, Alfred." His offer did not surprise Wayne in the least. While staunch disapproval seemed to be Alfred's default position on the Bat, he had in fact been tireless in his efforts to assist in any capacity available to ensure Wayne's safety and success as the Batman. Selina, less used to witnessing Alfred's contributions was all smiles as Bruce began listing off items to the attentive butler. "By the time I arrived back in the states after Joker's escape there was little left of the original scene to process. What was available had already been contaminated by Arkham security or GCPD. Now that we know HYDRA was likely complicit in the Joker's disappearance I want another look. I need Arkham Asylum's employee roster, six months prior to Joker's escape to present will do. I need them complete with personnel files and background checks. Not the Arkham backgrounds, although you may include those if available. I want the names run through our system. It shouldn't be too much work, the hospital was only officially brought online since Blackgate was breeched. Bruce sipped his coffee before continuing more to himself than the room, "I want to know everyone that had dealings with the hospital. Corruption has a way of staining all the way through organizations like Arkham. The debacle at SHIELD serves a reminder of that lesson. Those complicit in his escape could still be involved with the facility."

Alfred nodded in sage agreement; "Well you will need only look far as your old mate from primary to confirm there are bad seeds being sewn into the ranks of Arkham Asylum." The crinkle of Bruce's brow was enough of a question that Alfred offered an explanation without further prompting. "Surely, Master Wayne, you are aware that the current administrator for Arkham is Dr. Thomas Elliot?"

"Tommy?" The incredulous tone of the question was not lost on Alfred.

"None other, Master Wayne. He was appointed shortly after the loss of Jeremiah Arkham during the occupation."

"Not much of a loss there..." Selina offered in her unsolicited opinion of the former psych hospital administrator.

Alfred agreed without hesitation, "No loss at all, in fact, Mrs. Wayne."

Bruce was still musing over the new information, "Tommy as a hospital administrator? I just cannot fathom that. I never figured he would give up private practice for administration."

Alfred's response was crisp, "No doubt he has found a dictatorship at the Arkham facility to be a prodigious source from which to feed his already bloated ego. Not to mention as director of a campus such as Arkham the influence of the position alone would guarantee generous opportunities to mingle among Gotham's social elite." Alfred's cool blue stare never wavered, "Thomas has always been quite a social climber."

Bruce smirked at the older man, "After all these years, you still don't care for Tommy."

"No, Master Wayne. I do not care at all for Thomas Elliot."

Selina watched the interaction with open interest. Knowing without exception, that Bruce would do what he did with his next breath. Explain. "Tommy is a childhood friend." Bruce continued to hold his eyes on Alfred though it was to Selina that he spoke. "We grew up together here in the Palisades. Tommy, Rachel, and I were friends even before my parents died."

Alfred corrected his recollection, "Rachel was your friend Master Wayne. She did not consider Thomas Elliot as such. Ms. Dawes found him repellant." At that statement, Bruce lowered his mug and turned completely to face Alfred. Alfred diverted his gaze from the younger man's challenging stance as he brushed imaginary lint from the sleeve of his dark suit jacket, "Her words, Master Wayne, not mine."

Bruce sighed exasperatedly, "Tommy acted out, Alfred. He was in pain. He had lost his father."

Alfred's hard blue eyes lifted again to meet Bruce's, "So had you." Pausing for a moment Alfred continued, "Bruce, you were always willing to excuse Thomas's abhorrent behavior because you understood, all too well, his personal losses. That being said, Thomas Elliot was a manipulative bully before his father's accident and well after, if you recall."

Bruce sighed heavily as he typed on his cell phone, "I recall, Alfred."

"I can only imagine how Dr. Elliot's particular collection of personality defects will manifest themselves now that he is in command of a facility such as Arkham."

Bruce ground his jaw as he grudgingly agreed with Alfred's concern. "Tommy is a well-respected physician. More so since specializing in neurology, but he's not the most temperate of men. I definitely would not see him as a fit for directing a facility like Arkham Asylum."

"He's more Arkham resident material then, you think?" Selina offered her amused suggestion.

"Yes," Alfred answered definitively.

"Possibly," Bruce responded after a moment of thoughtful consideration.

Selina chuckled at their collective assessments, "Well Wayne, looks like it might benefit you to start your investigation at the top of Arkham and work your way down."

Bruce gave her a knowing smile, "I think that is just what I'm going to do, kitten. If you are down for it, while I am up with the top echelon, I'd like you to poke around the basement a bit. Literally kitten, I want you to break into the basement and have a look for me." Selina looked positively delighted at the suggestion. She reached immediately for the laptop beside her and began pulling up the blueprints for the Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

"I shall procure the information you requested, Master Wayne." Alfred smiled down at Selina who was already pecking away at the computer keys. "Shall I put on another kettle, Mrs. Wayne?"

Selina beamed up at him, "Only if you have the time, Alfred."

Alfred patted her knee which now helped support a humming laptop. "I will steep it myself and have it brought up directly."

Bruce smirked as he refilled his own mug while he side-eyed his elderly butler in amusement, "More coffee for me, as well. Thanks for asking, Alfred."

"I will see what can be done, Master Wayne," Alfred responded to the teasing in kind.

Selina's lopsided smile at their interaction brought another rumbling chuckle from Bruce. Coffee refilled he now busied himself with his phone and a few moments later a text alert chimed. Bruce glanced up at Selina, "How do you feel about having a guest for dinner?"

"Elliot? Ugh." She made a face. "I don't want to invite him over and have Alfred be uncomfortable. He obviously can't stand the guy."

Bruce laughed, "You are worried about offending Alfred's delicate sensibilities? You have met Alfred have you not? I mean you cannot actually believe Alfred Pennyworth would bother hiding his disapproval of Thomas? Selina, Alfred doesn't hide his disapproval of me and I sign his checks."

"Alfred signs his own checks, Bruce. I've seen him do it." Selina retorted. "Besides, this Elliot guy sounds like a complete tool. Don't make Sig and I deal with him over dinner. He'll probably hit on Pepper and then she'd have to eviscerate him. The entire evening is likely to deteriorate into anarchy."

Bruce snorted at Selina's fatalistic foreshadowing, "I would be remiss if I didn't inform you that marriage obligates you to at least make an effort to get along with my friends. I tolerate skinny Sigmund for you after all."

Selina responded with an eye roll as she typed. "You almost beat Sig up the first time you met him, Bruce. Besides, I try hard enough with Blake. That's big points for me right there." She looked up from her laptop and fixed her eyes on him, "Besides, you love Siggy."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "You love Sigmund and you hardly try at all with Blake."

"Yeah, well," Selina agreed and went back to typing before confirming what they both knew. "Anyways, you do to love Sigmund." Laughing Bruce finally nodded in acknowledgment. Selina did not miss the concession, her sharp eyes flashing up before focusing back on the computer screen. "We are even big guy, friend for friend. Blake for Sig." She smirked as she typed, "Plus Pepper. I almost forgot her. I'm one up. Alfred and Fox are on the house." His phone chirped. Selina smirked as she continued to peck away on the laptop. "Take Blake over to meet him. You said Elliot was a neurologist, maybe he could poke around in Blake's brain and pinpoint where things went wrong."

Bruce's silence had her looking up to determine if he might have been angered by the off the cuff suggestion. Instead, Bruce remained silent, a pensive look on his face before returning his attention back to his phone. "You are nearly too smart for your own good sometimes, kitten." Not sensing upset from Bruce and happy to be off the hook for dinner, Selina shrugged off the comment and immersed herself into researching Arkham Asylum.

Xxxxx

The afternoon for the three was spent hidden behind computer screens. Bruce was digging through medical research, before training with Blake. Selina tasked herself with unearthing blueprints and photos of the hospital looking for breaks in their security. Alfred saw to the domestic needs of the newlyweds and then began working to compile the data requested of him. He coordinated the Manor's staff by phone from the Batcave as he worked, pausing between data computation to finalize the dinner and dessert menu as well as approving fabric selections for additional bespoke suits for Wayne. He also narrowed down a roster of proposed personal shoppers for the mistress's final perusal before going back to screening the Arkham employees. He worked through lunch and likely would not have realized had not Blake discovered him some hours later working diligently at the massive computer housed below the Manor. Alfred startled at the cup of tea placed next to his elbow. He nodded his appreciation to the young man. "Master Blake, I believe we have our roles reversed today."

Blake nodded, "Seems so, Alfred. I hope you won't be disappointed with my meager offerings." He acknowledged the soup and sandwich half that he placed beside the teacup. "Honestly, it would be hard even for me to botch lunch up when it's already been prepared, so at least you have that going for you."

Feeling the hollowness of his stomach Alfred checked his watch; "Bloody hell, is it that late?" Alfred gathered his phone and shot off a quick text regarding dinner set up.

Blake tried not to read the text, but his nature did not allow many details to go by him unnoticed. Alfred was obviously stretched today. "Bruce said you could use my help on a project?"

Alfred nodded as he pushed away from the computer. "By all means, Master Blake, take the helm. You have presented me with the temptation of tea and I find that I am positively gasping."

Blake snorted a laugh at the Englishman's response before settling in a spare chair. He took one glance at the roster of nurses before his head whipped up and he focused intently on Alfred. "So, Bruce really is sick or hurt. I knew he was just putting me off earlier. How bad is it, Alfred?" Taken aback Alfred faltered a moment before beginning to explain the task. Blake cut him off, "Really, just tell me, Alfred. Bruce has been researching head trauma and concussion syndrome all morning. He said it was about some guy at Arkham, but I saw the file. It had Bruce's name on it. Is it serious? Should he even still be going out on patrol in the city?"

Alfred swallowed hard before placing the teacup firmly back onto the saucer and gathering himself to his feet, "Let's find out for ourselves, shall we?" Blake scrambled up and fell into step behind Alfred.

Xxx

Sigmund had awoken shortly before eleven am to find Selina attempting to print, in map layout, the rough prints for a haunted-looking lunatic asylum. She mumbled something about developing a new security system for the hospital. Sigmund took her mostly plausible excuse in stride. There was a lot about Selina Kyle that didn't always add up, but being her friend and intending to remain as such seemed to necessitate that he not ask too many prying questions. He had seen her shut down before when he pressed for answers on Bruce Wayne. Therefore, instead of voicing the litany of questions he had, Sigmund simply altered the settings on the copier and took over Selina's laptop efficiently printing off the pages she needed.

Selina accepted the assistance of her friend and wordlessly plucked another laptop from a side table before plopping next to him on a couch in what had quickly morphed from Martha Wayne's retreat into her own. Selina found she liked the windows in the room. They dropped low to the floor so when she looked up from the computer screens to rest her eyes she could watch the birds and squirrels flitting about the shrubbery in the manicured flower gardens. The bright sun from the surrounding windows was diffused by the sheer yellow curtains, which made the room appear both cheerful and warm. Alfred had either predicted her predilection for the room or he had observed her heading for Martha's retreat and had the reactionary capabilities of a caffeinated Ninja, for when she entered she found a warm tea service and a collection of electronic devices charged and at the ready. The tea and two of the encrypted laptops were quickly put to use.

Sigmund accepted Selina's newest project with the same gusto he showed for most things in his life. Once he understood what was required he flung himself into the project with little prompting seemingly happy to be of assistance. He quickly found himself caught up in the family dramas of Arkham. "Did you know the bird for which the hospital was named was mother to the founder? It is formally known as The Elizabeth Arkham Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Quite catchy that." Sigmund offered the sarcasm under his breath and continued his narrative. "Elizabeth had suffered from mental illness herself most of her life. Her son, Amadeus Arkham, yes his name was Amadeus, ended up being a rather prestigious psychiatrist. He eventually served as his mother's Psychiatrist in fact." Sigmund raised a knowing eyebrow. "Amadeus evidently had no ethical qualms about treating family and in due time became the executor of the family fortune. He used the funds to build Arkham Asylum. He did dedicate the hospital in his mother's name so I suppose he was a good egg in the end." Sigmund looked over his dark eyeglass rims at Selina, "It was the least the doctor-son could do, seeing that he formally committed his dear mum to that very asylum only a few short months after its opening."

Selina looked up from the blueprints of the hospital obviously intrigued by the history of the facility. "Sounds like a real charmer. The old director, the one before Elliot, what relation was he to the original family?"

"Ah, Jeremiah Arkham. It says here that he was a great-nephew to the original founder and the last viable option to keep the hospital in the Arkham bloodline. But alas, all boorish Jeremiah managed to accomplish during his tenure was to further taint the already questionable medical reputation of the asylum and eventually see himself hanged to death from the fourth-floor observatory of his own facility."

Selina grimaced at the video clip Sigmund presented showing the much-maligned surgeon swaying from the knotted end of a rope constructed of bed sheets. "To paraphrase TS Elliot love, the world will not end with a bang, but with a nephew."

Selina chuckled heartily at that assessment before flipping the screen of her computer around for Sigmund to view, "Look at the architecture of the buildings, Sig. It is beautiful, in its own creepy way."

Sigmund gave the photo a long look before dropping back to his reading, "Why the bloody hell would they build it in the middle of the Narrows of all the godforsaken places..."

Selina nudged his leg with hers. The Narrows weren't there when it was originally built. The Asylum was the only thing on the island. Most of the employees were housed right on the campus. Here and here." Selina pointed out two buildings as she spoke to the now attentive Sigmund, "These are the male and female nurses' dormitories, there are the generators, the laundry, chapels, the physicians' residence even a garage and maintenance building. Their water was originally fed from underground springs and they had massive generators for when the power from the mainland failed. The hospital property is nearly two hundred acres in total. All of it surrounded by a high stonewall and enormous evergreen trees. As the hospital got more into debt, Arkham began to subsidize it by selling off bits of the surrounding property until eventually, a city had built up outside the hospital walls."

Selina showed him another aerial photo that displayed the true scope of the facility. The campus was a sprawling testament to classic Victorian Architecture. The building and grounds were in stark contrast to the cluttered slums surrounding it. Sigmund shook his head, "I must say I'm on board with the original design. Marooning the homicidal lunatics on an island away from the sane citizens of Gotham is sound planning in my opinion. What I cannot fathom is why developers would then build residences around it?"

Selina shrugged, "Look what they put up there. Government housing. The poverty-stricken will go to where they can afford to live. They slapped up those concrete monstrosities as closely to one another as they could and packed them with anyone that could afford the first month's rent. No one gave a damn as to how GCPD was supposed to police that place. Crime exploded. The only thing that saved the hospital from being overrun by the criminal element around them was the fact the criminals inside Arkham were more terrifying than the ones running loose in the Narrows."

"Well stated, love. There exists a colorful history of characters incarcerated within Arkham over the years." Sigmund twisted the computer so Selina could see the photos of several of the original residents. "I can imagine them bouncing about quite contentedly in the padded rooms." She snickered at Sigmund's irreverence. "I can't believe someone let this dangerous lot loose to run the streets unchecked. The League of Shadows or some such rot?" He looked up to Selina for confirmation.

Acknowledging the accuracy of his research with a nod, Selina stretched and then pillowed her head on Sigmund's shoulder, "What else does it say?"

"Not much that would surprise a native. Gothamites likely tell these tales as bedtime stories, but it really is a terrifying read for the rest of the civilized world." Sigmund was elbowed for his musings so he returned with a huff to recounting the events following the release of Arkham's inmates. "It says a former psychiatrist at the facility, Jonathan Crane, was experimenting on the patients. He created a toxin that he let loose into the water system on the island. Unbelievable." Sigmund scrolled down the screen as he muttered to himself. "The abuse of those poor beggars could have been going on for years."

Selina smiled to herself, "Word is Dr. Crane is now a resident of Arkham. He might just be getting a little payback from his former patients."

She was brought out of her reverie, by Sigmund's light nudge. "Elizabeth Arkham may actually have been a victim of murder." Sigmund wiggled his brows behind the thick dark rims of the reading glasses he wore. He pulled his finger across his throat, "Mrs. Arkham was found by the first shift orderlies, stiff and cold in her hospital bed. Some Gotham historians believe little Amadeus may have done the ole girl in himself. Most likely a strike of vengeance for having been named Amadeus."

Selina snorted, "Well if her throat was slit it's not much of a reach to assume foul play as a possibility."

By now the two of them were shoulder-to-shoulder slumped on the plush couch with feet propped on the stone-tiled table. Sigmund turned his head and smacked a kiss on her cheek, "Stop taking things so literally, love. There was no dagger to the jugular. Elizabeth Arkham was discovered dead with no obvious injury or prior illness, other than her advancing mental ailments. The coroner at Arkham ruled the cause of death as affixation. Gotham PD called the circumstances of her sudden demise… suspicious." Sigmund slipped his glasses lower on his nose, "There appears to have been a murder most foul."

Selina laughed as she lifted off Sigmund's shoulder and used a finger to push his reading glasses back into place, "Alright Sherlock, keep investigating."

While the history of the Arkham family was fascinating, Selina's own research had revealed an equally intriguing story of the building itself. A story told by brick and mortar that collaborated to form a masterpiece of Gothic architecture. The massive structure built in 1898 was a collection of buildings connected by fireproof passages spanning three hundred and thirteen thousand square feet and reaching over a thousand feet in total length. Brick ventilation towers were erected over the sub-terrain passages that crested above the imposing bulk of the hospital. These high peaks further added to the jagged outline of the rooftop silhouette.

Selina grinned as she imagined the imposing structure backlit by an enormous moon with some of Bruce's flapping bats circling the main building's highest tower. Arkham Asylum is positively terrifying.

Everything she pulled from the public sights was confirmed by information gathered through the Batcave's computer server as it sifted through the archives of Gotham City's records department. Selina's eyes lit up when the search program produced new results on the current security provider. She stared down at the familiar logo for Tyger Private Security Services.

Selina had benefited before from the company's lackluster performance in securing facilities against unlawful entries. Knowing all too well their many vulnerabilities, she immediately targeted their main computer server. Wayne's sophisticated decryption program took but seconds to circumvent Tyger's much-lauded 'hack-proof' firewall. Her computer screen went black and a gray uppercase 'T' with three diagonal black stripes began its slow bounce across the monitor. She shook her head in disappointment as she watched the screen saver drop away to reveal the agency's home screen. Irritation gnawed at her at the realization that the bungling idiots at Tyger Security had been trusted with containing the most dangerous of Gotham's criminal class and most disturbingly of all, the Joker.

Selina and Sigmund called a break and went off in search of sustenance. The duo of Alfred and Blake became a trio when Blake intercepted Selina as she and Sigmund passed by them on the way to the kitchen. After a few quick words, Selina handed off her computer and sketchbook to the already loaded down and slightly bewildered young Englishman and fell into step behind Alfred as they briefed her on their concerns.

xxx
Bruce, still dressed in a wind suit from his earlier gym session with Blake looked up from his computer taking in the sudden appearance of his family at the door of his study. Pepper, also dressed casually in a set of blackout Puma workout gear from Selina's collection, furrowed her brow as she anticipated that this was not likely to be a pleasant diversion from the grim faces on the threesome. She lifted her chin and nodded toward the door, "Shall I?"

Alfred gave a small bow, "If you would be so inclined Ms. Potts, you shall have my appreciation. We will be but a few moments. Mr. Geller has just arrived in the Rose Room for a late tea. He would likely be appreciative of company, should you so desire."

Pepper nodded her consent as she gathered the Wayne tech tablet and phone before offering Bruce a consolatory smile. "See you in a few Bruce. I will try and get those names from Tony while I'm out." He started to speak and she held up the WE phone, "I've got it." Bruce relaxed back into the seat and turned his attention to the waiting entourage.

Without further invitation, Selina skirted the large desk and sat down beside him on the arm of his chair. The sturdy upholstered chair supported her slight frame easily. Instead of delivering a kiss as she leaned down, Selina instead turned her face. Accepting the brush of Bruce's lips on her cheek, Selina quickly scanned the open tabs on his computer and confirmed for herself that he was indeed conducting in-depth medical research. The main screen itself held a three-dimensional colored image of a human brain and the minimized tabs were titled head trauma, chronic migraine, nerve regeneration, and concussion protocol.

Bruce noted his wife's cool reception and her none too subtle observation of his computer monitor. He settled for amusement in response to Selina's actions. Navigating her mercurial moods was becoming less frustrating for Bruce and was rapidly evolving into a source of compelling diversion. He turned his attention to the two overly serious men with a bit more apprehension. He patted Selina's back settling his other hand to rest on her knee. Alfred and Bake both sat across from his desk without invitation. Bruce felt Selina's hand card through his hair and he sighed deeply as he directed his steely glare at Blake. "So, there is to be a health intervention then?"

John Blake resettled uncomfortably in his chair before guiltily looking to Alfred for support. Alfred crossed his legs and folded his hands primly over his knee waiting in silent expectation. Bruce suppressed an eye roll before giving his undivided attention to his obviously concerned wife. "There is no mysterious concern with my health, Selina. You are all, more than aware of my headaches and the degree to which they can incapacitate me." He squeezed Selina's knee supportively. "You most intimately of all." Bruce stroked his thumb over the thin material of her yoga leggings, "This is nothing new. I just needed an excuse to contact Thomas. A medical consult seemed like the most plausible reason for me to seek him out today after years of avoidance."

"But you are worried about them?" Selina asked the question as her fingers gently roamed in his hair, "Your headaches?"

Wayne gave a small shrug, "Two birds one stone, Selina. I get my in-road to Arkham by allowing one of Gotham's most prominent neurologist to review my scans. It's a win-win."

Her head tilted as she studied his face. "And just how recent are those scans Bruce? How long have you been concerned about this?"

There was nothing for it but to be honest now. "I had full CET and PET scans performed when I was recovering from the procedure on my knees in Switzerland."

The displeasure at this deception was obvious on Selina's face. "The ice climbing excursion you arranged for me at the Brunnital? It got me out of the way while you had them do the tests?" Bruce nodded without offering any further excuse or explanation. "If it came back as nothing you would have just told me then. Dr. Enquist found something, didn't he?"

Bruce squeezed her knee again, "Nothing that I wasn't already anticipating. There is visible evidence of my history of concussive events. There appears to be indicators that suggest the presence of traumatic brain injury." Bruce felt her hand tighten in his hair but he continued on, knowing that she needed to hear it, that they all needed to hear the truth of things. "They expressed concerns that with the collective damage I might eventually suffer from Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy or CTE. It's the same prognosis that faces many boxers after a lifetime of getting their skulls pounded."

Alfred finally spoke, "Has there been any deterioration of the brain tissue itself?"

Bruce continued to look at Selina when he answered. "Not at this time. They did find an abnormality, which they believe to be an accumulation of protein fluid. It may or may not be the source of the migraines and not necessarily symptomatic of CET, but it could be the beginning stages."

"Any early indicators of motor impairment?" Bruce shook his head silently that they had not. Selina felt her stomach fall at the idea that Alfred would be so well versed in this particular aspect of medicine. It was obvious that he had already had concerns in this area for Bruce. Alfred continued with his questions and his next froze Selina, "Any loss of cognitive ability or early markers of dementia?"

Selina's breath stalled in her lungs at the word dementia. Bruce tightened his arm at her waist and raised his hand to cup her chin as he locked his eyes with hers. "There were no signs of dementia, no memory loss, no behavioral disturbances. No symptoms of CET revealed other than the chronic migraines."

Alfred relaxed marginally into the chair at Wayne's reassurance. "What was their recommendation then, Master Wayne?"

Bruce smiled ruefully, "They recommended I retire from fight club or rugby or whatever disastrous hobby I had been subjecting myself to through the years and have a neurologist look into the results further." His attempt at infusing humor was lost on the room as Selina blinked impassively down at him. Bruce continued to try and soothe his new wife, "That's why I wanted Thomas's opinion Selina. I was already planning to see a specialist…this opportunity with Arkham just expedited the process a bit."

"I think I need a moment alone with my husband."

x
Alfred pulled the large double doors together and with a firm click, Selina and Bruce were alone.

Selina forced air into her stagnant lungs, "All the shit you give me about my wrist," She gestured with the newly replaced cortex cast covering her arm, "and you hide something like this from me?"

Bruce measured his response, "I'm not hiding Selina. I wanted to get a firm diagnosis before needlessly worrying you or for that matter, Alfred. The last thing I need is for everyone to be walking on eggshells around me. I refused to waste my time wondering if Blake was intentionally pulling his punches in training because he was afraid of hurting me." Bruce scoffed the last out as if that particular scenario had caused him physical pain to articulate.

Selina took in his words as she tried to digest everything that had transpired, her eyes flamed when the realization finally hit her, "That's why you were pushing to get married so quickly." Bruce shook his head, but Selina knew better than to fully believe him. "You wanted to get married sure, but you needed it to be sooner than later. You wanted to be married before you went into the doctor, didn't you?" Selina moved to stand but Bruce tugged her fully onto his lap. "What? Did you think I'd cut and run the minute I found out?"

She looked near tears, Bruce measured his words carefully before he spoke. "I wanted you to be my wife, but I needed you to be my wife before a formal diagnosis was made. By entering into our marriage with no preexisting medical information to the contrary, my competency could not be brought into question. This will ensure there will be no challenges to the directions I have set forth in my will." Bruce's voice was chillingly serious, "I will leave no legal grounds for a contest to my estate. I will not allow legal maneuvering to keep you from executing your position as the heiress to the Wayne estate. I wanted nothing in my official medical records that would allow legal footing for the board of directors to challenge my wishes."

"You put off seeing a doctor so there wouldn't be a squabble over your money?" Selina stiffened under his hands.

Bruce caressed her cheek, "I saw a doctor, Selina. I put off seeing a specialist because my pain is managed effectively enough to allow me the time to ensure the woman I love is protected in the event I am incapacitated and unable to care for her myself. I put it off to protect Alfred and Blake." He looked around him. "This house, Wayne Enterprise, is my parent's legacy I want it preserved. Everything else…everything below the Manor is my legacy. I put off a formal diagnosis to ensure that funds would remain available to provide for the security of Gotham. To do what the Batman does takes money. Lots of it ." Bruce looked up at Selina while tracking the sharp outline of her jaw with the pad of his thumb. "I waited until I could be certain that everything essential to preserving what I've dedicated my life to, would be delivered, without obstruction, into your most capable hands."

Selina shook her head, "Alfred could…"

Bruce shook his head, "There are none of us that are timeless, Selina. CET can progress slowly; it might be years before my cognitive capacity shows impairment. Alfred might be needing care himself by then. If I lose function, I might not even be capable of ensuring Alfred has the proper care prov—"

Selina's fingers pressed over his lips. "Stop talking Bruce."

Bruce swallowed hard before kissing her fingertips, "I know this is a lot to ask, Selina."

She shook her head and forced her voice not to waver. "You don't have to ask, Bruce. Not for any of it." She caressed his lower lip gently with her thumb as she struggled to voice her feelings, "I don't want to think about this Bruce. I don't want to think of you not being here with me...or of you not being…you anymore."

"I am going to do everything in my power to prevent that, Selina. I am meeting Thomas tonight to discuss these results. I want to know all of my options." Selina nodded, but her bravery broke as she stroked Bruce's face and her hand moved into his hair finding the familiar location of his pain. Bruce listened to her hitching breath and his arms anchored her more securely against him "Talk to me, Selina."

She shook her head and he watched as her throat constricted and she tried to speak, "Bane. When I left you down there…"

Bruce's brows furrowed, "No, kitten…"

Selina swallowed hard, "I saw the mask, your cowl. It was shattered on the floor. I thought then that he killed you." Selina's lip trembled as she fought through the pain and guilt, "He still may have. I may have."

"Stop." He held Selina firmly by the waist with a hand against her face as he pulled her forehead to his, "Bane kicked my ass down there and yes, he did me damage, but he alone did not cause this. More importantly, you did not cause this, Selina. So just stop." She let out a hurt whimper before curling against him and tucking her face under his chin.

"CET is caused by a lifetime of accumulated injuries. Injuries I incurred from the choices I made, Selina. I decided to be Batman. No one chose that path for me." He held her tightly allowing her to hide, as she was prone to do when her emotions threatened to become overwhelming. He soothed her with a hand that stroked gently down her back, "I need you to stop counting me out, kitten. There has not even been a firm diagnosis yet." He kissed the top of her head before speaking with grim conviction, "With all we have been through to be together Selina, why would you believe that I would let a thing like this separate us?"
xx

Bruce sat for a moment in the silent confines of the ludicrously expensive Italian sports car. He looked over at the manila folder and considered again the tests he had commissioned while in Zurich. Dr. Enquist had not faltered in the slightest when Bruce requested complete privacy at his facility. Bruce had been issued a patient number and was assured that his stay would be held in the strictest confidence. He analyzed now why he had trusted Enquist to do the scans, but balked tonight at allowing Elliot to view them. He had long ago accepted the necessity of listening to his own internal voices and intuition and when it told him to play this close to the vest he was obliged to heed the warning.

He sighed deeply, tasting again the alcohol on the back of his tongue and put away any thoughts of salvaging the remainders of the night by joining Blake on patrol. The stale reminder of whiskey tainting his breath and the after-effects of alcohol actively polluting his body made him completely unfit. If Blake had followed direction, he would be in the Bowery right now poking around the Penguin's local haunts for problems. He considered for a moment going to the cave and monitoring Blake's transmissions but knew that he could not allow minor issues to draw him out and any major ones would trigger safeguards upstairs that would alert him to Blake's status.

Bruce walked silently through the still house verifying with a nonintrusive security scan that all of his guests were tucked away in their rooms. The data display on his phone showed Sigmund was talking on a secured line to his pediatrician boyfriend. Bruce made a mental note for Blake to vet the young doctor further. Pepper was on her computer working over data from the San Bernardino site and texting with Fox. He pocketed the phone and slipped into the master bedroom with all of the stealth afforded him by years as the Bat. He was completely unsurprised that his skills were not enough to avoid detection by his new wife. Her brown eyes lifted immediately from the computer on her lap and pinning him intently.

Selina sat covered by bedsheets and a white-laced camisole working on her laptop. She was propped up against a collection of pillows Alfred seemed intent on populating his bed with, despite his own failure to find a purpose in them. He found himself oddly amused that they had, finally, been put to use. He brought himself to the present quickly as he realized Selina was expecting answers for the investment of his evening with Thomas. His brief hesitation was evidently longer than she was prepared to wait for her head tilted as if readying to extract the information bodily if required. He nearly laughed at the thought of being menaced into speech by his own wife before he reconsidered the ramifications of such an ill-timed expression of mirth. "Before you even ask, I don't have any answers for you, Selina. I did not show him the scans from the clinic. It just didn't feel right." He spoke as he unbuttoned his shirt and he became more acutely aware of the offensive stench from Tommy's cigars as the fabric billowed away from his torso. His lip turned up in a moue of disgust at his current physical state. He halted Selina with a lift of his hand as she raised to her knees on the bed. "I have to get a shower before you'll want to be anywhere near me."

Selina raised a challenging brow, "You telling me what I want, Wayne?"

"I'm telling you what I want, kitten," Bruce responded without heat as he trekked toward the bathroom. He could feel Selina's eyes on him as he wadded the offending garment as well as his undershirt into a tight ball. He paused for a moment contemplated igniting the fireplace and incinerating the entire ensemble before realizing Selina was now standing beside him. She poked him none too kindly in the side and he growled out in protest.

"It's not you that gets to be testy, Wayne. One night married and you are already dragging in late from a night partying with your hoodlum friends. Typical man. "

Bruce attempted his own menace as he side-eyed her before continuing on to the bathroom. He paused long enough to shed the rest of his clothing before he scooped everything, including his shoes, and dropped the bundle down the laundry chute.

Selina huffed a laugh at her temperamental husband. Twitching her nose, she inhaled his scent, "Cheap cigars and whiskey sours?"

"You don't have a right to look disgusted. I told you I reek," Bruce growled as he walked into the stone shower. The overhead lights and water switched on automatically. The side spray began a moment later with its perfectly heated blast targeted against his shoulders and he exhaled in relief. "And it was whiskey rocks, smartass."

Selina huffed out a laugh, "You trying to rinse off the stripper glitter before I get a good look?" Bruce glared again at her before pushing a button transforming the overhead spray from a moderate shower to a drowning deluge. Selina's eyes roamed over him taking in the tightness of his shoulders and the dark set of his eyes, "I suppose your stellar mood isn't helped by the ripping headache you have?"

"No it isn't." Bruce sighed as he poured a liberal dollop of shampoo into his palm. "The headache did help sell my reason for being there though."

Her eyes continued their assessing scan of him before she finally relented with a dissatisfied hum, "What a useless excuse for a doctor. If he wasn't going to give you relief with bootleg pain meds he could have at least got you all the way hammered." Selina ended her denouncement of Dr. Elliot by adjusting the overhead light settings to a cool blue. "When you manage to get that repellant odor off your body come to bed and fill me in on the details."

Bruce glowered at Selina's retreating form from under his dangling locks vowing to take the clippers to them himself in the morning if Alfred remained in opposition to providing his services as a coiffeur.

Twenty minutes later after swishing through half a bottle of Listerine Gold and two rounds of shampooing Bruce finally felt clean enough to share space with his new wife. Selina was piled back onto the bed scrolling through photos on the laptop stopping a moment to jot a note before moving to the next. She glanced up at her damp husband as he carelessly dropped his towel onto the rug beside the bed. She huffed a laugh, even in Bruce's depleted state he knew better than to let water leach onto Alfred's newly refinished floors. He flipped back the covers and flopped, nude, down onto the mattress. "I still feel disgusting. Don't touch me."

Setting the laptop to the side with a smirk, Selina turned her attention to him fully, "You are disgusting, and I have no intention of touching you."

Bruce made a sound of displeasure as he turned toward her and snagged her hand, placing it on the back of his head. "You weren't supposed to agree so easily, kitten."

She grinned as she rolled over to straddle him, her hands immediately went to work on the pain center in his neck and base of his skull. Selina could nearly see the decompression in his shoulders as they dropped further away from his ears. Shaking her head fondly, she rolled him all the way onto his stomach and took up a familiar position sitting on his muscular bottom. Working the knots in his neck as her other hand rubbed soothing patterns against his skull. "Need me to get your pills?"

Bruce sighed, "Better not. I'm not supposed to take them with alcohol. I took a few aspirins. Hopefully, they will take the edge off."

"Was it worth all of this?"

"Yes and no." His voice was muffled from the pillow his face was buried into but Selina heard him clear enough. "I have an appointment for a follow up with him at Arkham tomorrow afternoon." Selina waited silently for him to flesh out the root of his concern. "I just couldn't shake the feeling it might be better he not know of those results from Zurich or when I came by them."

Selina felt his muscles jumping with tension under her fingers and decided to let the subject drop, "Sig and I took a little trip over to Arkham Island."

Bruce looked up at her from the corner of his eye, "I hope you kept a close watch on him. I would hate for him to have gotten lost in the Narrows."

Selina smiled down at him, "He stuck close. We took my bike so I would have noticed if he tried to jump off." Bruce grunted. Selina smiled down at him enjoying for some reason his unusual fussiness. "Got a look at the facility," Bruce grunted again. Selina continued, as she interpreted that to be a sound curious interest. "Did you know they have two entire buildings set aside strictly for tuberculosis patients?"

Bruce cracked an eye to observe her before he spoke. "I hope that isn't where you are choosing to make entry."

Selina sighed as she scooted up his spine to better advantage her weight down on his shoulders. "Of course not, grumpy. It wouldn't do me any good to break in there. They are the only buildings not connected by the below-ground passages."

Bruce acknowledged her finding, "Makes sense. Back when Arkham was originally built TB was a huge concern. They would not have wanted infected patients housed with the general population and no more air sharing than strictly necessary between the infected patients and the other residents. Probably has its own air filtration there as well."

She confirmed his theory, "I read about it. They have furnace stacks that the air gets forced through to kill the germs."

"As long as there are no active quarantine patients housed there it should be relatively safe to enter. The bacterium that comprises the human strains of TB can only live external to the body for approximately eight hours." He paused, considering his assessment, " Some forms of bovine TB can live in wood surfaces for three weeks or more."

He supplied the information so matter-of-factly that Selina was forced to consider how long that particular nugget of wisdom had itself, remained dormant in Bruce Wayne's brain. Selina paused in her ministrations as she looked down at the man beneath her, "How are you so smart?"

"I'm not. I just surround myself with the most brilliant people I can find and then I try to learn as much as I can from them." Bruce shivered as her hand worked a particularly hard knot in his neck. "I seek out experts in fields that interest me and I try to absorb what they know. It's a method of information transfer that I adopted early growing up with my parents and Alfred."

Her own curiosity to hear more about Mr. and Mrs. Wayne and a young Bruce was too much to resist. "Tell me."

Bruce closed his eyes enjoying the feel of her hands on his skin, "About me or about them?"

"Both, either." Selina encouraged softly as she continued to knead at his neck.

He inhaled an intentional breath, lifting his face from the deep pillow before balling it under his chest. He considered what it was that Selina was asking him for. "My mother and I would go to the museum every month. Sometimes it was the modern art or natural history, the big ones that Gotham is known for. Other times it might be little cultural museums. If there were any special events in town, like the touring Egyptian exhibits, we would be the first in line." "Well, I say line... Bruce looked sheepishly up at her, "many times, my family would be invited to private showings. We would go behind the scenes with the museum curators and event workers. I used to love listening to them talk about the artifacts and how they came into the museum's possession. It was there, behind the curtains of the exhibits that I discovered grave robbers, pirates, art thieves, and forgers truly existed outside the pages of books."

Selina threaded her fingers through the dark moist wave of hair as she imagined a youthful, Bruce Wayne hanging off the words of the museum curators as his intelligent young eyes took in the treasures of the world. "You kept going after knowledge after you grew up. I know you went to college. I saw your jersey."

"Wore my jersey, you mean," Bruce smirked into the pillow as he corrected her. "I attended Princeton. I didn't graduate." Surprised Selina's hands paused again. Bruce blinked open his eyes to appraise her reaction, "Didn't realize you were bedding a college drop out? Good thing I got that ring on your finger before the truth came out."

Her only question was a soft, "Why?"

"I was in my third year when I left. My grades were adequate, but I was a poor student. I was double majoring in biochemistry and mechanical engineering." His eye squinted as Selina resumed worrying a persistent knot in his shoulder. "I had just changed my minor from molecular biology to criminal psychology. The professors in the psychology department hated me. I questioned everything they presented, especially when their tenured opinions on the subject matter varied so far from real-world truths." He thought for a moment. "I was learning, but I suppose at that point in my life, I was too angry to actually be taught anything." He blinked his eye shut and mumbled into his pillow, "If it means anything to you, I did finish the curriculum requirements for both my majors."

"What about your minor?" Selina's smile flashed at his growling objection to her challenge. He squirmed under her as she smirked down at him.

"I preferred a more hands-on approach to understanding the criminal element. Besides, I got sidetracked by a pressing need to understand corporate law." He went pliant beneath his wife's hand as she stroked the muscles in his neck. "I had my father's business to consider. I needed to fully understand my obligations to Wayne Enterprises."

She pressed down over him snuggling against his back as she rested her head on his, "You are so perfect it hurts, Bruce."

His body flexed involuntarily at the familiar weight of her body. "The irony of my laying here in pain precisely because of my many physical imperfections is not lost on me."

Selina shook her head. "You know it's the truth, Bruce." He felt her lips moving against his ear and his heart rate began to increase. "You know how smart you are, how capable you are. You have all of that hiding," She squeezed his broad shoulders, "right under the surface of this gorgeous human disguise you wear."

Her fingers slid down his shoulders skimming along his sides and Bruce lost the will to control his biological response. "I am just a man, kitten."

She snuggled closer against him. "You want people to believe that, to think of you as just a man. That's why I love seeing you as the Bat. All that you really are can live in him without limitations. It can exist without any apology. All the extraordinary things about you find purpose in him."

Bruce rolled under her careful not to unseat her as he moved. She lifted to allow his adjustment only to settle herself against his firming groin. Endorphins were releasing in his brain as his pain faded and the night with Thomas began slipping further away from his conscious mind. His eyes focused on Selina's arms lifting above her head as she pulled off the lace camisole. Then there were perfect breasts bared for him and a sultry smile gifted him and he found himself infinitely grateful that Selina could love even the darkest parts of Bruce Wayne.

xxx

Thomas closed the door on Bruce's retreating form not wanting to see him enter the silver Aventador. A stab of want laced through Thomas at the sight of the car. Alcohol was eroding his defenses against the familiar creeping envy. He paused in front of his floor-length mirror in the hall. He ran his fingers through his dark hair loosening the firm hold of the product tilting his head as he searched the reflection for the desired similarity. It's not right. His is longer now... wavier now than it used to be.

His hands moved quickly to the buttons of his shirt and within a few short moments he was examining his shoulders and arms with dissatisfaction, the beat of his heart evident in the pulsing of the artery in his throat. Leaving the shirt discarded in the hall, Elliot stalked to the kitchen and without hesitation bent over the sink with fingers jammed remorselessly down his throat. His gag reflexed was easily stimulated and accommodated him with the regurgitated remains of far too many libations and a good portion of his dinner.

He thought of Bruce as his eyes watered and he forced his vomit soaked fingers into the back of his throat again. A hard retch brought the remaining contents of his stomach splashing into the sink basin. Alcohol, worthless empty calories that dull the mind and the senses, but I got Wayne to drink. Bruce, did what he always had, succumb to pressure. When pressed Bruce's inherent need to be accepted could always be brought to the surface. He had not enjoyed it, but he had drunk anyways. Elliot snarled his lip, imagining how much harder Wayne would likely push himself to rid his body of the impurity he himself had influenced there. He found himself oddly comforted by the thought of Wayne's self-flagellation.

He wiped a hand over his lips leaving the sour contents of his bile dripping thickly in the sink before moving robotically to the sparsely stocked pantry. Pushing past the bags of rice and noodles, he secured instead a large canister of powder. Slamming the plastic jug down on the counter, Elliot fished out an unwashed cup from the rack of the dishwasher. He scooped two large mounds of the Mass-Gainer protein powder and dropped it into the hazy glass. Returning to the sink, he filled the glass, swirling the liquid as it filled. He gulped the murky contents not heeding the clumps of unmixed powder or sickly foam coating the walls of the cup. He slammed the glass onto the counter and stalked quickly to the weight room.

Xxx

Edit 10-3-20

LWH