Insanity // J.Valeska

Part Twenty-Six: The Relapse

Bruce Wayne eyed his soon-to-be wife cautiously - she looked positively rabid.

Her eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles; her cheeks sunken and hallow; what was once pearly and smooth skin was now translucent and papery; plump lips were dry and cracked; and her hair closely resembled a bird's nest. She looked completely wrecked.

Yet she was bouncing on her heels in such an animated fashion, one would assume she was high. Her fingers were constantly flexing and retracting, long, jagged nails roughly digging into her palms with each movement. Even her breaths were rapid and short, as if she were afraid to breath too deeply.

Alfred had always taught him that first impressions were everything - this wasn't what he had hoped it would be at all.

What confused Bruce even more was her being here. She was shaking beside a flaming barrel, waiting for Selina it seemed; waiting for him.

Bruce caught Selina Kyle on the shoulder, forcing her to turn around to face him, halting both of their tracks. "Whats?" She snapped.

"What is she doing here?" Bruce inquired, ignoring Selina's harsh tone. She really was more bark than bite.

Selina's face contorted strangely as she considered Bruce's question. "Her? You mean Steph?"

"Yes, her," Bruce nodded quickly. "She's Stephanie Harlem, you know the girl who was missing for months?"

"Huh," Selina glanced sideways at the shell of the girl before them. "Never noticed really."

"What happened to her?"

Selina shrugged, "dunno. Said she was goin' through some stuff."

In that moment, despite years of adults telling him not to, Bruce really wanted to punch a girl: Selina. Stephanie clearly had gone through a traumatic experience; she should be at home, accompanied by people who loved and cared for her. Not out on the streets with a bunch of homeless people. She clearly needed help and she wouldn't be able to get that if she was out here. Bruce had to take her back to Detective Gordon.

Bruce broke away from Selina and approached the bouncing Stephanie hesitantly. She barely seemed to notice his presence as he loomed closer, trying not to startle her. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and she reacted instantly.

Stephanie jumped backwards, her head snapping to stare intently at Bruce with surprisingly lively - if not frenzied - eyes. She blinked several times before speaking, "who are you?"

Bruce took a small step towards her, speaking in a low, soft tone. "My name is Bruce. I was hoping I could help you."

Stephanie mentally slapped herself; how could she not have recognized him? Of course it was Bruce Wayne, her betrothed and a fellow orphan like herself.

That was the sane part of Stephanie's brain talking. The insane part of her (the frighteningly larger part of her mind) compelled her to think otherwise however; he was not just Bruce Wayne, he was also the reason Jerome was dead.

It had been an exhausting past few days. While she was not certain that she had seen Jerome on the roof the other day, the vibrant red hair had been impossible to miss - or erase - from her brain. Steph had desperately tried to find a reasonable explanation for the ordeal: there were other people with red hair in the world; there was no way that had been Jerome. But then again, there was the heartbroken girl inside that hoped desperately that it was Jerome. That was how Stephanie had spent the better part of two days; at war with herself over her sanity.

And right now, she was tired. Oh so tired from arguing with her subconscious over which part of her psyche to believe. Being tired however, was dangerous; it meant she could no longer fight against the deranged part of herself.