[ Alfred found him in an alley that night, shivering and dazed. It took a few nights for the toxin to clear. Several nights more to round up everyone who hadn't died in the warehouse fires and deposit them on gcpd's doorstep. Branded as caught by the Batman with his stamp seared into their chests. If anything happened to them after that, Bruce didn't care. Alfred didn't approve. But Bruce didn't expect him to. Alfred wanted to him to continue his therapy.
This is the first appointment he's kept in weeks.
He steps inside and barely acknowledges Crane's greeting. His coat he folds over the back of the chair and he sits, folds his hands in his lap. His knuckles are bruised. So is his face. ]
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This is the first appointment he's kept in weeks.
He steps inside and barely acknowledges Crane's greeting. His coat he folds over the back of the chair and he sits, folds his hands in his lap. His knuckles are bruised. So is his face. ]
I don't want to be here.
[ Honest. Disinterested. ]