Phobia.

Blake’s door slammed loudly behind him, and I trailed behind him, hands wringing nervously in front of me as he knocked his fist heavily against the old wooden door. The butler appeared swiftly, a slight frown as he took in our appearance.

I had very little doubt that he would recognise me, or at least know of me from Bruce, from Batman himself. “Miss Crane,” he said obliging, nodding his head slightly at me, he turned back to Blake,
“I’m sorry, Mr Wayne doesn’t take unscheduled calls, even from police officers,” he looked uncomfortable, starting to close the door when Blake spoke up again.

“And if I go get a warrant, in the investigation of Harvey Dent’s murder? Would that still count as unscheduled?” I bit my lip to hide the slight smirk beginning to form.

This was definitely no laughing matter.

Alfred nodded curtly, panic evident in his eyes although he kept his face straight, “To the study then, if you’ll follow me.”

Blake nodded, waiting and letting me brush past him into Wayne Manor, it was less grand than you would expect, in terms of furnishings rather then the building itself which looked much like it had before it was destroyed, marble lain over every floor causing my shoes to click loudly as we made our way to the spacious study, filled with old doors I would simply die to own.

Blake sat down heavily, rubbing his hand over his forehead, “It’ll be fine,” I whispered, smiling down at him as I strolled around the room, fingers running over the leather bound books, Blake fidgeting the loudest sound in the room until the echo of a cane grew louder and Bruce Wayne finally appeared.

I had never seen him in person as him, only those few times as Batman and pictures in the paper but he looked dramatically different, a thick beard coated his narrow, once handsome face. He limped heavily, resting on his cane, his right leg dragging slightly as he struggled past Blake, stopping by a large window as I froze, hovering by the grand bookcase.
“What can I do for you officer, and miss..?”

“Crane.” I answered softly, well aware he was pretending not to know me.

“Commisioner Gordon’s been shot,” Blake said simply, gesturing lightly to me as I made my way over, wincing at each thud my clumsy feet made as I saw stiffly on the chair.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce answered, barely glancing at us.

Blake explained the situation, ‘Bane’, the sewers and Bruce nodded, looking thoughtfully out of the window, no doubt wondering what he would do were he still the batman.

He nodded slightly, “Shouldn’t you be telling this to your superior officers?” I rolled my eyes, finally speaking.

“He has, and they don’t want to hear it, they want to continue living in this little pretend ‘golden age’ we’re in. But that isn’t going to work is it?”

“They need you.” Blake said firmly, “ They need the batman.”

Bruce flustered instantly, opening and closing his mouth slightly a few times before speaking unconvincingly, trying to convince us Gordon was delusional.

“Gordon doesn’t know. As far as we’re aware we’re the only ones who do, and you cannot sit there and lie to our faces. You know me Bruce, you know what Jonathon did and you know I was the reason you got him, so please don’t disrespect me by talking shit.”

I was breathing heavily, edged forward on the seat. I took a breath, noticing Blake had rested his hand on my knee to calm me down, to keep me still.

Bruce frowned but nodded slightly, moving his gaze over to a much calmer Blake, whose hand remained on my leg as he spoke, explaining his side, how he knew.
His speech broke what was left of my heart.

“We’ve met before. When I was a kid. At the orphanage. See, my mom died when I was small. Car accident, I don’t really remember it. But a couple of years later my dad was shot over a gambling debt. I remember that just fine. Not a lot of people who know what it feels like, do they? To be angry. In your bones. People understand, foster parents understand. For a while. Then they expect the angry kid to do what he knows he can never do. To move on. To forget.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, waiting before he began to speak again.

I understood, to a degree.
I don’t remember losing my parents, and I suppose I was never truly alone, I always had Jonathon.
Had.

I got that element of the pain, trying to hide how you felt all the time, to push it down, to be normal.

“So they stopped understanding and sent the angry kid to a boys’ home - St. Swithin’s. Used to be funded by the Wayne Foundation. See, I figured it out too late. You have to hide the anger. Practice smiling in the mirror. Like putting on a mask. You showed up one day in a cool car, pretty girl on your arm. We were so excited - Bruce Wayne, billionaire orphan. We made up stories about you. Legends. The other boys’ stories were just that. But when I saw you I knew who you really were...” I felt my heart thud hard, “I’d seen that look on your face. Same one I taught myself.”

He stopped speaking and went to stand, his hand sliding slowly off of my knee.

“Something big is happening, something with Jonathon and something with this Bane guy, you need to get back into the world Bruce.” Blake moved, still facing the other way, his eyes red, flooded with tears.
From remembering the pain and the embarrassment of having to reveal it to a stranger and me, who was still rather close. I nodded at Bruce, allowing Blake to pull me along, his hand softly gripping mine like a lost child.

We reached the car soon after, Blake had made another remark to Bruce’s simple question about the funding, ignoring all the other revelations and our knowledge of who he used to become at night. He only let go of my hand once we reached the cruiser, opening his door before flinging himself into the car with a thud. I slid in quietly in my own side, glancing at him every couple of seconds until he calmed down, I let out a small breath, moving and closing my door, there was already a chill in the air.

“John...” I started cautiously, so quietly he could ignore it if he chose to.

“I’ll drop you off home.” He said curtly, suddenly bursting back into life and igniting the engine, I bit my lip but nodded, keeping num. I don’t know if he regretted what he said, how he could admit something so personal, that he clearly hid, he said that much himself.

“What do you think he will do?” I said as we began to reach the city, the cars of the freeways blurs as Blake drove over the limit, his grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening as the car went ever faster.

“Blake...” I said lowly, the way the car was beginning to judder making me really uncomfortable, “Blake...” I spoke louder, although he was still in his own world, running from his confession, finally I burst.

“John slow down your scaring me!” He blinked slowly and the car slowed dramatically, too dramatically, almost causing the car behind us to hit the back end, swerving with a loud honk of the horn as I let out a timid breath, “You want me to drive?”

“Yes please.”

He pulled over on the hard shoulder and we swapped side of the car, me cautiously adjusting his seat. I hated driving.
“I don’t know what he’ll do.” He said a couple of minutes later, taking me a second to realise he was answering my earlier question, “I hope this will make him look at things, realise Gotham still needs him.”

“I hope so too.”
We were silent again until we reached my block, until we heard the sirens.
I stopped the car too soon, woke him from another daydream and I let out a weird groan. He glanced at me, turning to look out of the front window,

“Is your flat on fire?!” He said, urgency obvious in his voice.

I nodded, looking at the fire bursting from the windows overlooking the street, “A little bit,” I said flatly, watching as he burst from the car and over to the police man, ignoring me as I slowly followed, still in disbelief.

There was no way this was random, just arson.
Someone knew I lived there, someone had targeted me.

I still felt cold, kind of numb until I saw the ambulance, saw the familiar shape, half covered by a white sheet. Then I was too warm, my legs finally working, muscles pumping as I reached the trolley, the skin was blistered, melted, black.
“Miss, this is a crime scene.. you can’t.”

I felt my stomach lurch, but I had nothing to throw up.
Oh Anna.
She looked like a doll, melted with a match, melted all over. Her hair gone, her face morphed, twisted.

I felt myself scream long before I heard it, and I felt the arms dragging me back, pushing me against the back of the fire engine.
I didn’t realise the screaming that was slowly louder was me until I felt something make contact with my face and stopped shortly, throat raw, body still on fire.
And John Blake in front of me, looking scared, pale.
“You can’t be here.” I nodded, the sobbing stopping me from forming any words.

Anna.
Dead Anna.
Dead melted blackened Anna.
This time I managed to be sick, luckily before I was in the cruiser, “Keira, stay with it, you’re going into shock and you can’t...”

The world went blissfully black and I heard no more frantic speech from the police officer.
___________________________________________

I woke up slowly, and it took a while to sink in. The fire, Bruce, Anna.

The last one made me sit up with a start, and I winced as my head crashed into something.
“Keira...relax.” His voice was firm but not hard, his hands around my arms and stopping me from moving until I accepted defeat and became still. “Keira...it’s okay.” I shook my head.

“I didn’t even like Anna most of the time.” I said, my voice scratchy, each word a cut against my throat, “Why was she at my apartment?” He sighed.

“That doesn’t matter now, you need to relax, I got you some water so if you just...”

“Someone knew I lived there. Someone knew I knew Anna.” He forced the glass into my hand, glaring at me until I took a large gulp, the water turning instantly in my empty stomach.

“The detective I spoke to said her name was on the documents, it was her apartment... is that right Keira, what name did you put it under?”

“No...Harvey brought it, he brought it outright...that doesn’t...”

“Someone changed that document, they said Anna lived there and had done for years, and since there is no trace of you on most systems... I think it’s best we let that be what people believe.”

“They killed her.” My voice was still flat, still numb, dead.

“Who would want to target you Keira? Anyone in particular.” I let out a cold chuckle, sounding nothing like myself.

“I betray people for a living, if anyone found out.” I froze, no, not if anyone found out. I had never been so careless, no-one apart from Anna knew where I lived, and whilst she knew what I did... in a sad way I was the closest she had to a friend...would she betray that?

“It was Jonathon.” I said simply, it made sense to me. But not to Blake.

“How could it have been Jonathon it doesn’t...”

“It has to be him, this is just...so...him.” I trailed off pathetically, suddenly desperately tired. Blake didn’t look convinced, still frowning down at me.
“Did he know your address?”

“I’m sure he knew exactly where I lived, that was why he changed the tenant, got Anna there somehow...”

“It wasn’t an attempt to kill you,” I shook my head.

“It was a threat, a warning, to scare me.” He bit heavily down on his lower lip.

“I don’t know much about your brother but this seems pretty impossible.”

“No it doesn’t,” I was suddenly more alive, my voice rising, “They changed it all... to make it seem like there was no crime towards me, not aimed at me but so aimed at me. Now I have nowhere to go, I don’t have anyone I trust...they’d know about Gordon...”

“There are guards with Gordon 24/7.”

“It’s a sign, a threat. Whatever is going to happen Jonathon is part of it, and he wants me to know that.”

“If they were after you, they...” he looked uncomfortable saying it but continued, “Just have shot you... why would they...he... go to this much effort.”

“When I was little he accidentally set the kitchen on fire and it terrified me, and he saw that...he used to make me light matches and hold them until they burnt and... He knows how scared of fire I am. It was a sign.”

“Well,” he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, before turning, placing his eyes back on mine, “Until we realise what is happening you stay here.”

“They might have seen me with you,” He shrugged.

“I’ve never picked you up anywhere near your apartment apart from earlier, I could be anyone, I’m not exactly distinguishable in a crowd of officers.”

“I can’t put you in danger as well.. I’ll go to a hotel or...”

“Alone, and pretty much defenceless, plus, you don’t have any money.” He didn’t know that, “There is no way you trust a bank enough.” He knew.

“You’re staying here Keira and that is it. You go out there alone and you may get killed.” I nodded mutely. “And you were wrong earlier. You trust me don’t you?”

I nodded slowly.
I did.