#gothamtherapy

[tiredofitallbutthegothamway]

Therapy File – Bruce Wayne: Part Two

Client: Bruce Wayne Therapist: Dr. Misaki Eto Date of Session: [Date] Location: Therapist's Office (Gotham City) Session Number: 2

Confidentiality Level: Top Secret

Session Start:

The room is quiet. Bruce Wayne is sitting in the armchair, looking as composed as always. His posture is perfect, his jaw set with that familiar line of tension. I, on the other hand, have a steaming cup of green tea, my pen in hand, prepared to face round two of whatever he’s about to throw my way.

Dr. Misaki Eto: [Settles into her seat, taking a deep breath] "Okay, Mr. Wayne, I just want to remind you that the only reason you’re here today for this second meeting is that I was specifically asked to see you again. I hope you understand that."

Bruce Wayne: [Nods without missing a beat, his tone cool and controlled] "I understand. I know how important this is, and I’ll comply."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "And yet, you’re still here, as if being dragged to a session against your will."

Bruce Wayne: [Gives a faint, brief smirk, but quickly masks it with his serious expression] "I was told it was mandatory. Doesn't mean I won't get something out of it."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "Well, here’s the deal. You were pretty… let’s say, vocal, last time. Which was, I’m going to be honest, a bit unexpected. I was half expecting the stoic silence I read about in your records."

Bruce Wayne: [Leans forward slightly, but remains still as stone] "I was just getting started. I have a lot more I need to say. There’s a lot more I’m holding back."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "I can tell. But here’s the thing, Mr. Wayne—this is not a platform for you to unload your frustrations about Gotham, the Batfamily, or the state of the world. You’re here because you need help, not for me to listen to your latest ‘save Gotham’ speech."

Bruce Wayne: [Raises an eyebrow, voice dropping into that lower, colder register he reserves for those rare moments of vulnerability] "That’s not why I’m here."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "Good. Because if I hear another ‘Gotham is mine to protect’ spiel, I might just start charging you double for every session."

Bruce Wayne: [His eyes narrow slightly, the tiniest twitch of a smile almost breaking through] "I don’t need to hear your sarcasm, doctor."

Dr. Misaki Eto: [Pauses, sipping her tea] "Fine. But the sarcasm is the only thing keeping me sane right now." [She gives him a pointed look] "You should try it. It's liberating."

Bruce Wayne: [Glances sideways, considering it for a moment before speaking, the steel of his voice returning] "I'm not sure 'liberating' is a word I understand. Not in this life."

Dr. Misaki Eto: [Sighs and sets her tea down, folding her arms] "Let's get to the point. You're here because Bruce Wayne—the man, the symbol—has a lot of burdens. And you don't talk about them. You don’t have time to process them. But those burdens are suffocating you. So now, we’re going to talk about it."

Bruce Wayne: [Tensing up, but resisting the urge to shut down] "I'm fine."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "No. You’re not. You’re fine at managing things, at controlling them. But you’re not fine. You bottle everything up, and you're cracking under the weight of it all. You think you can handle it all alone, but it's becoming increasingly obvious you can't. This isn’t about Gotham or your mission. It’s about you. And your inability to… to actually feel anything for yourself, not just for the city, or your family, or your parents’ legacy. Just you, Bruce Wayne, as a person."

Bruce Wayne: [Leaning back, arms crossed defensively, a familiar wall building between them] "I don’t have time to focus on myself. I have responsibilities."

Dr. Misaki Eto: [Leans forward, speaking with a subtle force] "And yet, here we are. Again. A second session, despite your constant dismissals. The weight of everyone else’s emotions is clearly wearing you down."

Bruce Wayne: [In a calm, almost too collected voice] "I don’t need anyone's sympathy."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "No one said anything about sympathy. We're talking about something far more critical than that. It’s called self-preservation. And maybe you need a little empathy for yourself."

Bruce Wayne: [Nods slowly, as if he's already heard this and rejected it many times] "I don't have time for this. My city needs me. My family needs me."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "And who do you need, Bruce?" [The question is direct and sharp] "Who do you turn to when you’ve reached the edge? When you're running on empty? Who saves you?"

Bruce Wayne: [Eyes flash with something close to frustration but also… something else—a hint of acknowledgment that he never lets anyone see. He shakes his head slightly, the mask slipping just a little. His voice is low, almost to himself] "I don’t... I don’t let anyone get close enough."

Dr. Misaki Eto: [Gently] "You need someone to be close enough. You’re human, Bruce. It’s not a weakness. It's a fact."

Bruce Wayne: [Glances away, silent for a long moment, before muttering to himself] "You don’t understand."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "No. But I want to. And I’m not going anywhere, Bruce. So let’s talk."

Bruce Wayne: [His posture softens just the tiniest bit, as if considering it, and then finally speaks with a weariness that catches even him by surprise] "I’ve been protecting Gotham for so long that I forgot how to protect myself. I thought I could just outrun the demons in my head."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "You can't outrun yourself, Bruce."

Bruce Wayne: [Nods once, his voice quiet but surprisingly honest] "I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’ve made a lot of enemies. But the hardest part isn’t the enemies. It’s the feeling of... of not being able to escape the shadow of my own mind."

Dr. Misaki Eto: [Offers a small, understanding nod] "That's what we're here for, Bruce. To help you face those shadows, instead of running from them."

Bruce Wayne: [Leans back in his chair, finally, finally lowering his guard for just a moment] "It’s going to take a lot more than just this session."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "Then I’ll be here for every step of it. And you’ll stop running."

Bruce Wayne: [His eyes meet hers, a mixture of resignation and relief] "You’re the first person to tell me that. That I can stop running."

Dr. Misaki Eto: "And I mean it."

End of Session.

Notes for Next Session:

Bruce's hesitance to trust others continues to be a barrier. Encouraging more vulnerability and self-compassion will be key in future sessions.

His attachment to the “bat-symbol” remains his primary identity, and addressing the underlying trauma that reinforces this is necessary.

Explore his sense of responsibility and guilt related to his family and Gotham more deeply.

Diagnosis:

Complex PTSD

Severe Anxiety

Emotional Repression

[tiredofitallbutthegothamway]

Headcanon: How Dr. Misaki Eto Became The Therapist of the Batfamily (and the Justice League)

So, here’s the thing. I wasn’t always the therapist you all know and love—or at least tolerate, depending on how therapy session went today. I wasn’t born ready to talk about trauma, mental health, or the insane emotional weight of being a Gotham vigilante. Nope. Once upon a time, I was just a business school student, with the entire future ahead of me... at least in a suit, calling meetings, and making power moves.

But let’s rewind a bit, okay?

I did start off in business school—surrounded by an entire class of girls who loved to gossip about all sorts of things, except the things that mattered. I couldn’t understand how they were all so—shallow might be the best word. People-pleasers, yes. But also surface-level people-pleasers. Oh, the drama, the gossip... and I thought, well, maybe I should try to be like that. Because I wasn’t a drama person. I’d sit in the back of the class, listening, nodding, trying to get a degree that’d probably put me in a gray cubicle somewhere, crunching numbers and—okay, maybe I was bored out of my mind. There, I said it.

Anyway, someone had to listen to all these people talk about their feelings, and it definitely wasn’t going to be me. I wasn’t that type. Right? Wrong.

A major turning point happened when one of my classmates—let's call her, uh, Linda—had a meltdown about a group project. She started crying in front of everyone, and, like a reflex, I found myself trying to calm her down. I wasn’t sure how it happened, but after a few minutes of awkward silence and trying to figure out what the heck she wanted from me, I found myself just... listening. And not just listening like an awkward fool, but actually offering advice. Good advice. Not the “Oh, everything will be fine!” type of advice, but real, grounded suggestions about how she could approach the situation without feeling overwhelmed.

Linda stopped crying. And then everyone started coming to me with their problems. Eventually, I was the one they’d all talk to after class, not to complain, but to actually work through issues they had. Turns out, I was good at it. Like, really good at it.

But here’s where it gets juicy. Somewhere between that moment and when I was supposed to graduate, I realized business wasn’t for me. I wasn’t about the corporate grind; I was about fixing people, helping them untangle their mess of thoughts. So, I switched gears.

I went to therapy school—no, not exactly a traditional route, but let’s just say I had my connections. You’d think Gotham would have made me cynical, but no, I decided to lean in. And hey, the world of therapy was way more interesting.

I ended up building a small but growing practice, but one day, my luck changed. I was in a café, trying to get some tea and a bit of peace. When, out of nowhere, a guy in a tactical suit and a weirdly intense glare walked in. I thought it was just another Gotham weirdo, but when he started talking to me in the corner, I realized it wasn’t. It was Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne. My first thought? Don’t panic. Don’t say something stupid. He’s probably just here to check on his investments in the therapy industry.

Fast forward through a few weirdly normal but also incredibly awkward conversations, and next thing you know? I’m assigned as the therapist for the entire Batfamily. Of course, I didn’t know who they were—because, you know, superheroes and secret identities. But after my first session with Bruce, I could tell something was off, and that somethingwas what made him... well, a Batman. And that’s where the real work began.

And don’t get me started on why Bruce hired me, but let’s just say he needed me, alright? I didn’t know why he trusted me of all people—me, a business school dropout-turned-therapist who still thought ‘cognitive behavioral therapy’ sounded like a curse word—but there I was, getting involved with Gotham’s worst kept secret.

One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was giving therapy to Gotham’s most notorious family. Not just Bruce—everyone. Damian, Jason, Dick, Tim... oh god, even Alfred—they all came to me, in one form or another, and each one brought their own... unique challenges. But hey, I’m a people-pleaser at heart, so here we are.

And guess what? I never expected this to turn into a full-blown side job with the Justice League—especially not with the Injustice League involved too. But life’s full of surprises.

So yeah, that’s the long-winded version of how I went from a wannabe librarian to a full-time therapist for Gotham’s finest... and technically the Justice League too. As for my "people-pleaser" tendencies, I’m pretty sure I’ve evolved them into full-blown skills at navigating the emotional labyrinths of Gotham’s finest.

And honestly, the most ridiculous part? I’m kind of proud of how far I’ve come. So here I am, always with a good cup of tea (and cookies—can’t forget the cookies), ready to help all these emotionally broken, stubborn, and just ridiculouslycomplex people navigate their trauma.

But hey, that’s what I signed up for, right?