Disclaimer: This is an all Bruce and Alfred chapter with Bruce and Vic interaction coming up in the next one. Please, please, please r & r even if you hate it!

Bruce laid on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling of his bedroom. The monotone of a ticking clock could be heard somewhere in the blackness. Light from the moon filtered its way through the tiny cracks in the drapes that covered the windows and threaded whimsical patterns on the carpeted floor. It was quiet.

As Bruce lay there, the ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder, louder, louder with each passing second. A film of sweat accumulated on his forehead and lower lip and for an unknown reason, his heart seemed to pound faster. He was nervous. He was worried. He couldn’t sleep.

Throwing back the covers that had suddenly began to suffocate him; Bruce put his feet on the floor and dug his toes into the carpet. He swiped at the trickles of perspiration that dripped into his eyes and off of his nose. Standing up, he crossed the room slowly and threw back the curtains, allowing the complete brilliance of the full moon to come in. He needed to see the light tonight. He looked out over the city of Gotham that was sleeping below him.

Something very black, and something very disturbing was now roaming the streets of Gotham. Something that he wasn’t sure he could fight physically or with any of his gadgets.

He turned away from the window and strode to the door of his room. With an uneasy glance over his shoulder he turned the knob and left his room, padding quietly down the long and shadowy wood-paneled hallway. He went three doors past his own and then paused. He quietly knocked.

The door opened a crack and the weary face of Alfred appeared.

“How is she?” Bruce asked, looking past Alfred to the bed.

“Not well, I think.” Alfred said sadly. “Something has...disturbed her mind.”

Bruce crept into the room and looked at Victoria Kensington. From the door it appeared that she only slept. When you were at her bedside, it was clear that she was agitated and frazzled. Her face was twisted uneasily and her hands gripped at the blankets. Her body was tense.

“What do you think happened, sir?” Alfred whispered.

“I don’t know, Alfred.” Bruce raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. “It wasn’t something tangible. There was nothing there.”

“Are you suggesting the supernatural?” Alfred asked quietly.

Bruce looked up. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He said wryly.

“Perhaps she will remember something when she wakes up.” Alfred suggested. “Just how are you going to explain to her how she ended up here, Master Wayne?”

“If she wakes up, Alfred. If.” Bruce replied with emphasis.

“And what if she doesn’t? Then how are you going to explain her being here?”

“If she doesn’t wake up, Alfred, it means I wasn’t able to protect her.” Bruce said, his voice defeated. “It won’t matter why she is here.”

“Don’t give up on her just yet.” Alfred said confidently. “She’s stronger than you think.”

Bruce nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Afraid, sir?” Alfred asked as they left the room and he gently latched the door behind them.

“This is far from being over, Alfred. In fact, I think that it is just beginning.” Bruce said somberly. “This...this thing won’t leave her alone. It will just keep eating away at her, doing whatever it is that it does so well. She wasn’t afraid to investigate it, she didn’t fear it. I think that intrigued this...thing. Perhaps this,” he searched for the right word, “this manifestation will take pleasure in breaking her down until she isn’t anything anymore. Neither strength nor weakness.”

“May I remind you that you don’t know the motives of the one that did that to her. You’re not even sure if it was the one you’re after. It could have been...” Alfred waved his hands in the air. “It could have been an alley cat that jumped out at her and started to hiss at her, and it awakened a childhood fear of something much like that happening.”

“Fear.” Bruce said thoughtfully, not really paying attention to what Alfred was saying anymore. He tapped his chin and considered this again. “That must be some kind of...key element in all of this. Fear.”

Alfred peered at Bruce, unable to discern what he was mumbling about. “Are you sure that alley cat didn’t jump out at you, sir?”

“Alfred!” Bruce announced suddenly, turning abruptly to face him. “What is your greatest fear?”

Alfred blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand the question.”

Bruce muttered impatiently, nettled. “What is your greatest fear? That thing that you are most afraid of deep in your subconscious?”

“I always wait up for you, Master Wayne, did you know that?”

Bruce paused. “No. I didn’t.”

“And do you know why I do that, even though you tell me not to?” Alfred queried.

Bruce shook his head.

“My greatest fear, Master Wayne, is that one night you won’t make it home. That something will happen to you while you’re out prowling around the streets and rooftops of Gotham. And if you didn’t make it home, what would I do?” Alfred spread his hands.

It was Bruce’s turn to blink. “You would find something to do, Alfred. I’m sure that I would have left the bat cave a mess.” He attempted a bit of humor.

“That you would.” Alfred conceded. “Now, what is the connection with all of this ‘greatest fear’ business?”

“I think that this is all connected with your fears somehow...everybody is afraid of something. Somehow, this person is latching onto the fears of innocent people and making them come to life.” Bruce banged the wall with his fist. “Finally! A break through.”

“You do realize that loud noises are sure to disturb the patient even further, don’t you?” Alfred remarked.

“Oh, yeah, that’s great.” Bruce replied, his eyes betraying that his mind was elsewhere.

“I’m off to see the Wizard, Master Wayne!” Alfred chortled.

“Go ahead. It’s fine.” Bruce said stoically, staring at the wall.

“There is a crazy madman down in the foyer, says they call him Raz Al Ghoul. He wants to see you.” Alfred articulated, standing directly behind Bruce and speaking into his ear.

Bruce jumped. “WHAT?!”

“Nice to have you back with us, sir.” Alfred smiled.

“Amusing.” Bruce said without a smile. “I’m going down to the cave. I can’t sleep anymore tonight.” He jogged back to his room to throw a shirt on and then sprinted back down the hall to the stairs.

“I’ll have breakfast prepared at seven a.m. sharp, Master Wayne!” Alfred called.

Bruce appeared again. “Make sure the bacon isn’t too crisp. And I want my eggs sunny-side up today.” He started to leave again then stopped. “Oh, and Alfred!”

Alfred looked back expectantly.

“If she wakes up, make sure you come and get me.”