RP With Eleanor Bishop

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One might assume that Alfred Pennyworth, with his sharp looking suit and polite manners, would stick out at a prison but it's actually quite the opposite. He moves through it with a sort of calm assurance, like a man who is walking through a place he's been before and is no stranger to the rules or customs.

The time he spent in jail was not in America, it was back in England and while it thankfully wasn't for very long it goes a long way to giving him the aura of someone not to be messed with. Something the other inmates can sense and when he passes by their cells they don't mock him, only glance up for a moment as he goes by towards the visiting center.

The guard gives him a small, respectful nod and opens the door for him and it is only now that his heart starts to pound. It's not from being in a prison, it's from the woman sitting in the center of the room waiting for him.

Even now, years later and under rather bad circumstance, she takes his breath away.

"Hello, Ellie." He says, calling her by his old nickname for her.

Comments

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Getting lost in her own thoughts, Eleanor finally allows herself to taste that tea, her eyes closing as she allows herself to enjoy it and, for a very brief moment, imagine she's not behind bars or wearing cuffs.

She sighs as Alfred explains the situation, very much returning to her current reality. "You shouldn't have fought, you don't need to defend me." Eleanor points out quietly, even though she reaches for his hand to give it a grateful squeeze. "I understand why she is mad, why she's heartbroken over her dad. I always feared this might happen someday."

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"I didn't defend you because I thought I had to, I did it because I know you Ellie. I know you never meant for this to get so bad."

He says and laces his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly.

"And I know why you never told her, why you let her keep thinking her father was perfect."

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"I never intended to kill anyone, but I did." And that has nothing to do with Derek, she tells herself, even though she is well aware of how things snowglobbed as years passed and she had no other option but to work with Fisk.

There's clear sadness in the way she smiles, holding tight onto Alfred's hand.

"She deserved not to be disappointed by at least one of her parents."

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"I know."

And he knows that the guilt is eating her alive, just like it does to him when he has to kill. He's never liked it, he just happens to be good at it.

"She also deserves to know that her parents are people. Real ones who make mistakes like she will."

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Always trying to keep a regal aura to herself, Eleanor is careful about her posture, never hunching her back, always keeping the tone of her voice under control.

Right now, she bats her lashes a few times, trying not to let her weakness overcome her.

"She deserves someone like you to look after her." And yet, she shakes her head. "I know I put a huge responsibility over your shoulders when you already have Bruce. I don't know what I did to deserve you, in all honesty."

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"First of all, you didn't put anything on me. I offered." He says firmly.

"And second, you know what you did to deserve me."

His voice is a soft rumble and he looks into her eyes with quiet sincerity. She knows that he will always love her, that he'll always be here for her.

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It was all bad timing when it came to them. She was with someone, he was with someone. There was business and travelling and mistakes, but one thing never changed. She did love him back, even when she also loved someone else.

"You deserved someone better then," she corrects herself, holding up his hand to feel it once more against her face.

Back when they reunited, Jacques had been by her side, a future husband. Again bad timing. Now, he saw her bare like nobody else could.

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Alfred had his fair share of female attention back then but he would have dropped it all for her, no one save Eleanor had come close to snagging his heart the way his great love Esme had.

"You'll have to pardon my language but that's a load of bullshit." He says dryly and opens his hand to caress her cheek. His hands are rough and callused from years of hard work and yet they stroke her skin with infinite softness.

"But Ellie, I have to ask. Why didn't you come to me for help after you had to start dealing with Fisk? You know I've dealt with his type before."

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She doesn't argue. Eleanor is aware that doing so would be like wasting her breath when it comes to Alfred and his high opinion on her. Instead, she simply leans her cheek into his touch, finding consolation on this affection that remains as strong as it always was.

But this conversation brings up such mixed emotions. In a way, she remembers so vividly those shared evenings, keeping each other warm or even talking into late hours of the night. Lazy or passionate kisses. Back in the day they used to know each other like the back of their own hands.

"I was -- I didn't want you to see what was happening. What Derek did." Alfred had always been so kind when it came to his opinion of Derek, but Eleanor had always had her doubts about it. Telling Alfred about her husband's risky business, how she feared they might lose it all...

"I was ashamed."

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She had been and always would be a proud woman and as much as he is hurt that she didn't come for help he can understand why she didn't, after all he was similar. How many times had he taken on more than he could handle because of his pride? Of his desire to fix things himself and not allow others to carry the burden?

"He threatened to hurt Kate, didn't he?" Fisk he means and he rubs his thumb across her cheekbone. "That's what escalated things, wasn't it?"

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Keeping her eyes shut, Eleanor still placed a small barrier between them, stil avoiding him. Of course, he wasn't judging her, rationally she had always known he wouldn't. But she couldn't see him, seeing her like this. And so she frowned, giving a curt little nod to his question.

"Right after Derek died. He had a huge debt, Fisk made himself clear." But Eleanor rose from their ashes, the company picked up, went back to what it used to be when Derek's father was alive. "I tried to end things now before Kate started working with me. To keep her out of it and safe."

Of course, her daughter had the ability to sniff danger, it seems. "Then she started snooping around with that Avenger and things got out of hand."

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Alfred sighs and nods, "They do have a way of doing that."

He knows from first hand how quickly things can go bad, just look at the past few years with Bruce and Wayne Enterprises.

"Now that it's done and out in the open, do you feel some relief?"

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"Part of me does. And very briefly, I feel like I used to before everything went down." Which doesn't last long, now in a place like this one. "It's hard, knowing that she knows the truth about me. I had grown so used to the lies I almost believed them myself."

She can't help it, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder, Feeling his chest against her own. "Alfred, when did we get so lost?"

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He can't really give her an answer but he can give comfort so he wraps an arm around her shoulders and after a moment he speaks.

"Not that long ago I had Master Bruce ask me something very similar." He says slowly, thinking back about that day in the hospital when Bruce admitted that he had lost his way. "And I will tell you what I told him."

"The thing about being lost is that when you're in the thick of it, you feel as if you've got no where to go. No one there to help you. It's like you're lost in darkness."

He looks down at her, his eyes gentle and kind.

"Getting out of that darkness is hard but once you start trudging forward you will find a light. Your True North, and if you let that guide you then eventually you will come out of it."

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Eleanor remembers a time long ago, laying naked in the bed of the shabby tiny apartment she was sharing with other students, and Alfred speaking with the same kind of wisdow. The wisdom of someone ahead of his own age, so calm. Speaking like someone who truly trusts that everything will fall in the right places and it's all going to be alright.

"That's such a wonderful advice for a boy with his life ahead of him," she states, trying to sound warm despite of her words.

"Did you find your light, Alfred?"

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"I found it the moment I got to hold him." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. "The moment Martha put that tiny little babe in my arms, I knew I had found it."

He can still remember the feeling, how astonishing that such a tiny baby had managed to knock all the air out of him.

"I imagine you felt similar when you first held Kate."

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Even if he can't see her face right now, he'll sure hear her smile. That little enthusiasm as she breaths out.

"Yes, I know exactly what you're talking about. It was the first thing that came to mind." That one moment when you know your life has shifted for good. "It's like you suddenly become aware that there's someone much more important than your own life."

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"Exactly."

He knew she would understand, they were both parents after all and was there anything more full of light in their lives than their children?

"You have a daughter out there who while upset at you, still loves you. And misses you." He says as he gently leans his head against hers. "And wants to know you, the real you, Ellie."

Not the lies or front that Eleanor had put up in order to keep Kate safe, but the real woman that Alfred knew like the back of his hand. The fact that Kate had been so blown away by some of Alfred's stories about her proved that.

"Maybe some good can come of all of this in that you two can get to know one another on more equal terms."

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This time she did not argue. Not simply because deep down she wanted to trust that he was right about how things would work out between her daughter and herself. But rather, because Eleanor knew Alfred was not the sort of person who sugarcoated things.

She knows him, she remembers a much more pessimistic man, but one who always spoke with honesty. His hair might have changed, not raven and without that curl she liked to play with as they laid together. But this is the same Alfred as always.

"If I get out of here," she reminds him.

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"You will." He insists, giving her a gentle squeeze that feels a bit like a promise. "It might take a bit and there will be consequences of you being in here but you will be free."

He pauses, shifting so he can look down at her.

"Do you have any information about Fisk and other criminal syndicates he was involved with? Something he said or shared that could be used as leverage?"

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She knows she will, she has one of the best lawyers money can buy working on her case. Ruthless, capable of getting out much worse criminals than she is. Her case was already steering towards showing she had been a terrified widower, a mother worrying about her child's safety.

Everything Alfred saw in her.

"I do. About him, about the russians working with him too," but Eleanor was unsure about using that card, if she should keep it under her sleeve in case Fisk got out. What if he paid the right person who'd be at the right time alone with her? "I have some documents saved at home. Just in case."

Just in case it came to this.

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He can't help but huff a small laugh, "Course you do. You always were so clever."

Clever and a tiny bit paranoid, just like him.

"I'll let you deal with your case as you see fit but you know if you need any extra digging done who to call."

Mainly him, just in case she needs extra to help sway the odds in her favor.

"I had an idea about Kate, though."

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"I will," she agreed, feeling a bit more like herself.

Sitting up straighter, Eleanor picked her tea cup before her drink goes cold. When will it be her next time to have actual tea instead of that dirty water they offer her in this place? Leave it to Alfred to fix that.

"About Kate? What do you mean?"

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He lets go of her, shifting away a bit to give her room to drink her tea and regain her usual demeanor.

"I had an idea about how you two could maybe start to mend things."

He knows Kate isn't going to visit her mother, not when she's still so upset at her, but that doesn't mean there can't be contact.

"It might seem a bit old fashioned but I was thinking you could write to her." He suggests, "It takes some of the pressure off both of you. She can read them in her own time and reply similarly."

Plus it gives both of them some space and the chance to re-write things if at first they write out things that are too painful and upsetting.

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Alfred has a point. Not only that would take the pressure of time, of the need of an immediate response as the clock tics and their time of the visit grows shorter. Kate has also inherited her mother's temper. Pressure is definitely not on their side if they want to mend things.

"You always were the best when it came to planning out things." Eleanor comments after taking a sip of tea. She tucks her hair behind her ear then, her usually perfect bob looked a little unkept these days.

At least in some ways she looked a little closer to the girl who had once met him for the very first time.

"Very well. But you'll have to bring them and take them yourself."