"Each cup of tea represents an imaginary voyage.”

[apennyworth]

Alfred Pennyworth carefully arranged the plate of cookies next to the teapot and lifted the fully stocked tray with steady hands. He had managed to coerce Bruce into agreeing to join him in the sunroom for a tea. Young Master Bruce did not take nearly enough time to rest, in his eyes, and Alfred grew more and more concerned as each day passed

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[rattle_thecages]

Have Rachel Dawes sitting on one of the benches, books piling up on her lap. Rachel values knowledge, above all, and to best confront this situation she needs to have the answers first. She certainly can't begin to do anything without fully understanding what has happened and how everything works.

The books fall from her lap as she spots the familiar figure. It can't be. She wonders if it's only a hallucination, born from the desire to see the man she's missed so dearly.

She doesn't move. The raw emotion is stuck in her throat and she's sure if she makes a sound it'll be as if pushed through broken glass.

What if he doesn't know me either?

She isn't sure she wants to find out.

[apennyworth]

Turning his head slightly at the sound of something falling, Alfred caught sight of a young woman sitting on a another bench. At first glance, he looked away, saddened by the mere sight of someone who resembled the Rachel he'd known since he was a little girl...the one who had died so recently. He had missed her dearly, having watched her grow up beside his Bruce. He could not have loved her more had she been his own child.

The situation he seemed to be in gave him pause, and he looked up once again. It was, in fact, Rachel Dawes. She was alive, and a very short distance from him.

His head tilted to the side and his hand shook slightly as he attempted to lift it. He felt caught, as though the air had thickened, and he had to force himself to step forward. "My dear girl," he said quietly. Did his voice shake? Yes, it did, and if there were tears in his eyes, they would need to be excused.

[rattle_thecages]

Rachel draws in a sharp breath, and it feels like there's are vines wrapping around her heart and squeezing tightly. Her own eyes are watery, and she bites down on her lip to keep it from shaking. Before she can speak, before she can act, what does she do?

"Alfred?" she asks cautiously. Her voice is small and barely audible, akin to when she was a little girl with a scraped knee. She'd hoped, but immediately the hope was trampled with the reality it was possible he didn't know her.

Finally standing, she can't bring herself to take a step forward.

"You know who I am?"

[apennyworth]

The sound of her voice brings him into a heightened state of reality. She is, in fact, there and standing.

"I have known you since you were a little girl," he said, his voice catching slightly on the words. "I have cleaned mud from your face and given you cookies, and when you were very young, you asked me to marry you. I have missed you a great deal, Rachel Dawes."

He walks forward again and decides that if he is dreaming or insane, perhaps it is not such a bad thing. For a moment, he wonders if he has died and his joy at seeing Rachel is only mingled with concern for Bruce. He cannot abide the thought of the young man being alone. At the moment, however, his concern is focused on Rachel. She's there.

[rattle_thecages]

Empathy be damned, Rachel finally dares to move. She walks into his arms and she holds on as tight as she possibly can. She lets go of a breath she did not know she had been holding, and then another, as the tightening in her stomach is released and with it four shaky words.

"I've missed you, too." They trembled, these words, and they hold so much truth inside the weight of them.

For the first time since she arrived she allowed the tears to fall freely, even as she hid them in the expanse of his shoulder and allowed the dam to open.

[apennyworth]

Alfred hugs Rachel close, patting her back softly as he'd done when she was a little girl. The grief he had experienced when she had died could not simply be erased, but the pure happiness at seeing her now is overwhelming it. The strength of the love he feels is staggering, and he can only speak in quiet, hushed tones as he attempts to soothe her.

"There, there," he whispers, not trying to halt her crying. He wants only to comfort her. It occurs to him that things are much more complicated than merely being in the wrong place.

However it came about however, he is grateful for this moment. Alfred thinks how about how happy Bruce will be to see Rachel once they manage to get home...if Alfred is not dead, that is...and he sighs.

[rattle_thecages]

She remains there despite the strong emotions that ram into her once she's been enveloped into his arms. Grief, despair, joy, they link together with her own until she's chained to her spot. She only steps back once she's certain she won't be able to withstand it.

"Oh, Alfred." She cups the side of her face, wiping away the wetness she found before letting her hand fall back to her side. There's so much to explain, and Bruce, Bruce needs to know Alfred is there.

She wishes to a God she's not sure she believes in anymore that Alfred had been spared of this. And at the same time, she's grateful he's with them now. "Oh, Alfred. Are you all right? Do you know...where you are?"

[apennyworth]

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Alfred retrieves a freshly pressed hankerchief and holds it out to Rachel. Being ripped from his home and placed in an utterly unknown environment where the formerly deceased young woman he watched grow up was did not mean Alfred Pennyworth would forget his manners. Naturally.

"I believe I am all right, all things considered," he answers truthfully. "I...was headed to the sunroom to have tea with Bruce-" He closes his mouth for a moment, worry overwhelming him. After taking a short breath, he continues. "I found myself here. I assumed I was hallucinating or mentally ill." Or dead, but he feels it would be impolite to say as much. "Do you know where we are, my dear? I am afraid I feel quite out of sorts at the moment. I am certain Bruce will be quite concerned that I am gone. I cannot allow him to worry." Not now. He could not allow Bruce to lose yet another person.

He closes off the worry for a moment. "Are you all right

[rattle_thecages]

At his pause, Rachel takes his hands again as she leads him over to the bench. She ignores the sharp jolt at her chest, grips his hands tightly. She closes her eyes briefly and when she opens them again her expression is determined.

"I'm all right. Alfred, we're in Chicago. Bruce is here." A version of him. "It's hard to explain, I'm still confused myself. Two weeks ago I was on my way to work at the courthouse and suddenly I was in this very same park. What you need to know first and foremost is Bruce is here. And you're not dreaming. You've...you've fallen through a rift, Alfred. A crack in the universe that brings you to another place."

Yes, she still feels crazy saying it.

[apennyworth]

First and foremost, Alfred is very concerned. Hearing that Bruce is there relaxes him considerably, however Rachel's words do little to comfort him. He attempts to keep himself calm and does a remarkable job, if he does say so, himself.

There are only two facts that keep him from wondering about Rachel's own mental health, at that moment. One, she is Rachel Dawes. He knows her, and he trusts her. Two, he should be in the Wayne Manor tearoom at the moment, and not on a bench in the middle of Chicago.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred nods. He is an intelligent man, and an open-minded one. He has had to be. However, he is also a practical man. "Chicago. We simply need to phone Bruce and have him send a car, my dear. This will all be fixed very soon. Things will be just fine."

He cannot help but wonder why he finds himself doubting his own words.

[rattle_thecages]

"They will be fine. I can't promise you it makes sense, Alfred, but the important thing is we're here in this together." Her eyes are shining again. She can't begin to explain how good it does her heart to know Bruce will have Alfred. That she has him, too.

She misses Gotham fiercely, misses it the way you miss distant and unattainable things. Alfred is such a big piece of Gotham, a part of so many of her memories.

"We'll get you to Bruce, Alfred."

But first, she's holding on again and she isn't letting go for a while.