MOONLIGHT ↠ B. WAYNE

NINE

    CW: MATURE CONTENT

It is not until twenty minutes later that Giselle looks up to see Bruce rushing down the hallway. He's out of his Batman suit, and in a simple charcoal t-shirt. The black under his eyes has been hastily washed away. His eyes fall on her and he stops in his tracks for a moment before rushing towards her.

"God—Giselle," he murmurs in relief before he envelopes her body with his own. She can feel his strong arms tightly wrapping around her as he places his chin on top of her head. She weakly loops her arms around his torso and her head on his hard chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. Bruce finally unravels himself only to worriedly scan over her.

"Are you hurt?" he questions, a hand still on her back.

"Not really, I'm fine," she tells him tiredly. "Alfred—he got the most of it. They brought him to the hospital,"

Bruce nods silently, and there's a pain in his eyes as he turns towards the police still investing the study room.

"The package was intended for you," the detective tells Bruce. "It was a C-4 explosive sent in a mailer. We found this too. A letter to the Batman,"

"It was the Riddler," Giselle states coarsely. The detective nods in agreement as he opens the silver fireproof envelope and pulls out the card from the killer. The front has a pair of yellow eyes, and inside it reads, 'See you in hell'.

Giselle herself feels as though she's been through hell tonight. Bruce insists on taking his car to go see Alfred at the hospital.

His room is pristinely white, and Alfred is hooked up to various machines, including an oxygen mask and IV drip with various fluids running. A bandage is wrapped around his head, and he looks as though he too, has been through hell.  Her heart breaks at the sight of him lying there.

"We've sedated him," the nurse tells them. "We just have to hope that he stabilizes. You two should go home. Get some sleep. Is there anyone else to notify?"

"No," Bruce says quietly. "It's just me,"

                                                                                           ❔

Later that evening, Giselle is soaking in the grand, clawfoot bathtub in Bruce's bathroom. The scorching hot water burns at her raw knees, but she doesn't care. The porcelain tub is filled with sweet scented bubbles. Giselle feels burnt out, hollow, and most of all, fatigued.

A knock on the bathroom door pulls her out of her own head. Bruce peeks his head into the bathroom, a dark lock of hair falling in front of his face.

"I just wanted to check on you," he states, opening the door wider. He's shirtless, wearing only a pair of dark pants. Giselle's glances over in surprise to find him standing in the doorway. His eyes widen at the sight of her clothing discarded on the floor, before falling upon her soapy skin. He flushes and diverts his gaze to the floor.

"I'll—uh, be in the living room," he tells her before shutting the door.

After a few more minutes, Giselle rinses the soap from her body and opts for slipping into one of Bruce's t-shirts, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The fabric falls to just a few inches above her knees as she lets her hair down from its bun before padding into the gothic living room.

Bruce has pushed the table away from the center of the room, as well as all of the furniture. A fire roars in the intricate mantle, and he's using lamps as his only source of light. He's got papers and photos, strewn strategically around the room, and has spray-painted the names of the Riddler's victims next to each pile. There are long white lines connect each one to a big question mark in the middle.