Happy Valentine's Day y'all. Here's an entry for the WonderBat JukeBox event. The song I based this on was Slow Dance by Kelly Clarkson. If you haven't heard it, I would definitely recommend. And when I get back to a space where I can spend some time writing more, I definitely will do more things based on some songs that remind me of our favorite Bat/Amazon duo. Hope you like!
He wasn't at all like what I was expecting.
When I had arrived on Man's World, when I had joined the Justice League along with the six other individuals who had saved the Earth from The Invasion, I had little expectations. I knew nothing other than Themyscira, my home, my family, the only paradise I had spent my days on. I knew nothing of the men and women with extraordinary abilities, fighting for justice and peace, keeping the citizens of Earth safe. I knew nothing of the extraordinary people with no abilities, risking their lives to help protect those who had no means to protect themselves. I knew nothing about the people of Man's World, but over time I had learned what to expect.
Over time I had learned what drove the people of this world, their reasonings for the way they perceived things, their intentions for how they acted. Over time I had become accustomed to the way people acted, how they treated others, the personas they displayed. Over time I had come to care for the people the League protected, and over time I had come to accept the League members as my family. A dysfunctional family, but one nonetheless.
I had learned what to expect with every member of the League - well almost every member. There was still the one who had escaped every chance he could get, sneaking out of Founder meetings, ignoring what he deemed non-essential calls, keeping himself hidden in the shadows of Gotham, prioritizing the city that had become his one true love. The first few months I had known The Batman, I had thought him to be just another dysfunctional man, hidden behind the trauma that forced him to wear the cape and cowl, fighting for a city that didn't want to be saved. But the more I learned about The Batman, the more I discovered the man underneath, the more I realized it was further from the truth.
Nothing made that discovery even more surprising than when I had learned the truth behind the man in the mask. Seeing Bruce's name for the first time, knowing that had been the man who had avoided getting close to me for so long, had sparked something in me I hadn't realized initially, but the more I saw him, the more I got to glimpse the dark cape in the halls of the Watchtower, the cowl scowling at me across the table at Founder's meetings, the more I felt drawn to him.
Then came Paris.
I had come to Paris knowing Bruce would be there. I knew who he was, who he truly was, and I wanted to finally talk to him, face to face, without the pressures of the League. I wanted to talk to him without the mask. I wanted him to know The Batman did not scare me, and I had marched into that party, ignoring the flashing of all the cameras, my mind focused on finding the man I had flown across the world for. But everything changed the moment I heard his voice. My heart had fluttered when he grabbed my hand and led me away from the cameras and reporters, twirling me to face him as he began to sway to the music. All the planned arguments I had concocted up to this point seemed to vanish from my mind as I danced with him.
Suddenly all the preconceived opinions I had once had of the man melted away. While we danced in Paris, I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. I was able to look into Bruce's eyes for the first time since stepping into Man's World, and what I saw made my heart hurt for the man. The pain hidden in his eyes was unlike nothing I had seen before. This man was in agony, his soul fighting with his body, the smirk on his face wavering as we continued to dance.
Then, later that week, when I had fallen and had been rendered unconscious, I still remember the fear in his voice as he woke me, worried I had been hurt far worse than I actually had been. I had seen a different side to Bruce, and I would stop at nothing until I saw that part of him once more.
Countless stakeouts, missions, flirty late night coffee breaks during monitor duty had only strengthened the bond between us. He was the one person I trusted most.
"Is everything alright?"
My eyes dart up to Bruce's face, watching as the man across from me takes a sip from the wine glass in his hand. I give him a slight nod and finish chewing the bite I had taken before Bruce had asked his question, before I take a sip from my own glass of wine. "Everything is wonderful," I answer, flashing him a small smile.
Bruce nods and places his glass of wine near his empty plate, his hand lingering on the glass as the nerves he has been trying desperately to suppress all night show through. "Good. I'm glad you are enjoying yourself."
I flash Bruce another small smile and let myself give him another small nod. "I'm glad you finally made good on your promise to take me dancing," I say, smirking as he attempts to stare me in the eye, trying not to get caught staring at the strapless red dress that falls just above my knees. "Although I thought there'd be a lot more dancing."
Bruce chuckles nervously. "As I recall," he begins as he shifts in his seat. "It was you who declared I owed you a night of dancing."
"And yet we still remain seated."
I watch as Bruce nods and glances down at his glass of wine. He's stalling, trying to find a way to set up the wall I've been chipping away at since coming home from Kaznia. "Diana," he warns, his voice wavering as he debates whether to give in to the internal struggle going on in his mind.
"Bruce," I reply, warning him with my tone. When he asked me to dinner tonight I knew it was time to explore what had been hidden there since day one. In such a short time, Bruce had become my best friend, and I knew I was, if not close to being, his. Even Clark had commented on our growing friendship, stating it had taken Bruce years to trust him enough to form a friendship, when it had only taken us a few months. I knew I could trust Bruce with anything and I wanted to make sure he knew he could trust me as well.
"You know we're walking a very fine line," Bruce states, his eyes moving up to meet mine.
"Why must there be a line?" I question. He opens his mouth to respond but I shake my head and continue, "You know there's something more between us, Bruce."
Bruce sighs. He doesn't deny my statement. There is something more between us, in some regards there has always been, but I'm curious to see just how far he's willing to discuss. The Bruce I had met in Paris would have shut this conversation down the moment we walked into the restaurant arm in arm.
"You and I, Diana, is a bad idea."
I only shake my head and chuckle. "No, leaving my home and getting myself exiled was a bad idea. But I'm trying to find the positive in it and making it work out." I lean back and fold my arms over my chest. "The same can be said for you and I."
Bruce lets out another sigh. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to find the words to respond to what I've just said. "You don't understand," he begins. "Being with me is not easy."
"Neither is just being your friend," I tease. I watch as he tries to keep himself from smiling. This man needs to let himself feel happiness, and I'm all too willing to help him achieve it. I lower my voice and lean in. "This facade gives me whiplash," I whisper, watching as his eyebrow raises in confusion.
"What does that mean?" he asks, his voice in a hushed tone.
I only give him a small shrug. "You know what I mean. Bruce Wayne," I say, emphasizing his last name, "is known for his confident, powerful, demeanor." My eyes close as I take a small breath, opening them to see the man across from me waiting for what else I have to say. "But Bruce Wayne…."
He nods his head. I don't need to finish my statement. Like so many of our conversations, this one ends with an all too knowing look - it's one of the reasons we work so well. Never have I felt this connected with someone, let alone a man from Man's World.
I let out a small sigh and place my hand on the table, opening it, glaring at Bruce until he glances down at my open hand. "Can I at least get a dance?"
Bruce gives me a small smile and nods his head as he places his hand in mine. "I think I can do that." He stands from his seat and moves around the table, my hand still in his as I rise from my seat. He leads me to the dance floor, where a few couples have been dancing throughout the night, and turns me to face him. "But be warned, I'm not as good of a dancer as people think."
"Don't worry," I say, a smirk on my face. "We can take it slow, and I'll show you how to slow dance." I give him a small wink which earns a smirk in response.
He places a hand on the small of my back and pushes me close, our chests meeting as he begins to slowly sway to the soft jazz filling the room. We dance in silence for the first song. I find myself casually running my hand up his arm, gently stroking his back as we move in unison.
"Everyone is looking at us," I say, my cheeks a shade of bright pink as I try to avoid the multiple stares from other patrons I can see over Bruce's shoulder.
Bruce glances over my shoulder and shakes his head. "Everyone is looking at you," he says as his hand pushes at my back, pulling me closer.
A small gasp escapes my lips as our bodies push tighter together. His hand is possessively on my back as he glances toward the door, his eyes narrowing as he silently tells the men staring our way there is a reason their hands aren't the one currently on my back. The one making its way higher up my back, leaving my skin tingling as I feel his fingertips dance along my spine.
"They're probably staring at Bruce Wayne so unkempt," I joke once more, letting my hands fall to the tie around his neck that has been pulled loose several times throughout dinner tonight. "Everyone is probably waiting in fear to see if you're philandering will result in another inappropriate display."
Bruce lets out a hearty laugh. The sound forces a smile on my lips and my heart flutters. "That was one time," he explains, "and it wasn't by choice."
I nod, pretending to be understanding. "Of course," I say, feigning sympathy. "I, too, feel the need to be in the nude in the middle of a gala."
Bruce clears his throat and continues to stare over my shoulder, trying to appear as if what I have just said has no effect. "That's not what happened," he says, his lips pursing in thought. "Remind me to never leave you alone with Alfred again."
I let out a laugh and gently pat his chest. "I'm only joking, Bruce," I say, gently stroking his face, forcing the frown that has settled on his face to disappear. "In all fairness, this has been a great evening, and I'm glad you finally took me dancing."
"In all fairness, we should have done this much sooner." He slows his swaying, his hands stilling on my back as he leans back to look me in the eye.
I stare into Bruce's eyes, the tight feeling that has been plaguing the pit of my stomach everytime I look at Bruce, returning. I know I didn't press Bruce for any kind of promise to be more than friends, and he may not return the feelings I have, but at the moment all I can think about is how soft his lips look in the subtle light of the restaurant. Before I know what I'm doing, I lean toward Bruce, the thought of kissing him silencing any thoughts of what this would mean.
Bruce places a hand on my neck, slowing the path of my lips, giving himself plenty of time to retreat if this is not what he wants. To my surprise, he leans closer to me, his thumb gently stroking my cheek as his line of vision falls from my eyes to my lips.
Our lips grow closer, the air around us suddenly feeling thicker. Our lips are a mere inch from colliding when Bruce freezes, his attention moving from my face to his chest, where an insistent alarm has begun to sound from his jacket pocket. He pulls the alarming device from his jacket pocket, his eyes glancing up to meet mine as he shows me the signal of The Batman flashing on the small screen.
And just like that our night is over. He is needed in Gotham.
"It's okay," I whisper. My hand gently strokes his cheek when I see the pained expression on his face. "Go ahead, Bruce."
He nods and silences the alarm, glancing at the screen for a moment before he places the device back into his pocket. "I'll make it up to you," he whispers as he pulls away from me.
I give him a small nod. "I expect nothing less," I say with a smirk, watching him turn on his heel before I turn back toward our table. I take a step toward the table when someone grabs my arm and turns me around. Before I can protest, Bruce's lips are on my own, his hand on the back of my head keeping me locked in place, not that I would even attempt to escape.
His lips are as soft as I had imagined. His hands, calloused from years fighting crime, are somehow soft against my skin, gently caressing my cheeks and the base of my neck as he allows himself to relax. The kiss is over just as quickly as it began, but it has done its job. This one kiss has made it clear the feelings I have for Bruce are not one sided.
"We'll talk when I get done," he promises. I nod and watch as he releases his hold on me, before he turns and runs toward the front door of the restaurant, grabbing the credit card from our waiter he had given as we had started our meal.
I quickly return to the table and grab my purse, letting the smile on my lips linger as I glance over at the seat Bruce had occupied for the night. I turn on my heel and walk out of the restaurant, activating my comlink to ask J'onn to transport me back to the Watchtower. I connect with J'onn as the Batsignal begins to shine bright against the dull cloud covered sky of Gotham, smiling as I am transported back to the space station that houses most of the League members.
As I walk back to my quarters I can't help but run my finger along my bottom lip, remembering the feeling of Bruce's lips on my own, the taste of the red wine he had consumed with dinner still lingering. The door to my quarters slides open and I walk inside, letting it slide closed behind me. As I undress for the night, thoughts of Bruce and our dinner consume my mind, my lips curled into a constant smile. This was not how I had imagined the night going, but I'm glad Bruce at least now seemed open to the thought of an idea of us.
Bruce Wayne was definitely not who I had ever imagined I would have had feelings for. I had never anticipated falling for this man, never imagined the slow burning affection that would culminate into something deeper. I never thought the man who hid in the shadows would have become the first person I would think of in the morning. I never imagined the man who hid his true nature from the world to be the one I spilled my deepest secrets to. No, Bruce Wayne and all his chaos wasn't at all like I was expecting. He was, in fact, much better.
My heart races and my breaths come out shaky; the after effects of Bruce and my latest conquest. I have to admit, when Bruce had suggested we take a ride on the older rollercoaster, I had been hesitant. It was the first ride he and I had ridden on while we dated, and although it brought a sense of nostalgia, I knew exactly what was in store for me.
The ride had been made in the late nineteen nineties and although it was a staple in the park, it was rickety and jerked more times than I could count. Riding the coaster had brought back a lot of memories, but it had also brought some mild back pain, a reminder that I was aging more than I wanted to admit.
"That was worse than I remember," Bruce says beside me. He lets out a shaky breath and leans against the railing at the end of the exit ramp. He glances over his shoulder to see if any other riders are coming down the ramp, before he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. His head falls back and he takes a deep breath. Maybe he should've taken one of the pills he graciously gave me this morning.
"You're getting weak in your old age, Bruce," I say with a chuckle, teasing him. He waves off my comment and takes another deep breath, before he straightens and clears his throat.
"I think you forget you're older than me," he says, his lips curling into that infamous smirk. "Much older than me."
My eyes roll by instinct and I shake my head. I know I should say something sarcastic, something to quiet him, but I can't help the smile that forms on my face. A blatant betrayal from my lips.
Today has been nice. Today has been like old times, where the two of us could just talk and throw around the flirty banter. Today has been a day where we have set aside our differences for the benefit of our daughter, and even though we have only seen the kids a handful of times, it's been a decent change from the last day and a half.
I suspect this has been the plan all along. I know my daughter and her scheming. She gets this look in her eyes, a sense of determination that won't disappear until her task has been completed. It's the same look I've seen from the man across from me, watching for years as he stayed up countless hours trying to solve a case. And while I've enjoyed spending the day with Bruce far more than I know I should, I can't help but worry about how Penelope and the boys are going to feel when we have to part ways once again.
"The graying hair could convince me otherwise," I finally say to Bruce, my attention drawn to the well groomed beard on his face. Bruce runs a hand through his facial hair and shrugs as he takes a step toward where I stand. I will admit, I knew he had changed his physical appearance even before I had stepped foot in the manor. Penelope always comes back with photos of the family she thinks she keeps hidden away, but she forgets I used to spend countless hours in the palace alone. I know where all the good hiding spots are. And ever since the near attack from a few of the Amazons that had rebelled, I knew it was better to be vigilant.
Bruce stands beside me and reaches up to stretch his back, letting out a groan when we both hear a loud pop coming from his lower back. "I rest my case," I say with another smirk, watching as Bruce rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief.
He watches as I roll my neck that has become uncomfortably tight from the consistent rattling of our last ride. "I say we take a break from the rides and get something to eat."
I roll my neck once more, my shoulders dropping when I feel a small release of pressure at the base of my neck. "That sounds like a great idea," I say.
I let Bruce lead the way. We walk away from the happy screams and the loud whooshing coaster trains make as they race along tracks, walking until we get to the front of the park where all of the main restaurants are located. Bruce and I are quick to get food, finding a spot to sit and eat beside the large tree in the center of the courtyard. It provides us a decent amount of shade and safety from the blaring sun, yet allows us to watch everyone walk by. Hopefully we'll be able to see the kids on their way to another ride or two.
Bruce wastes no time digging into his meal. He takes his third bite of his burger as he looks my way, his head tilting as he looks over my shoulder. I bring my own burger to my mouth and take a bite, my shoulders slumping at the familiarity of the food. On Themyscira we don't have greasy fattening food, and while it's nice to eat nothing but the best, there are times I miss indulging in the pleasures of fast food.
"Thank you for the food," I say before I take another bite of my burger. "You didn't have to do that."
Bruce shrugs. "I always paid on our dates," he says nonchalantly. He plucks a few fries from the tray between us and tosses them into his mouth, chewing with a smug smile on his face.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Is that what this is?" I ask sarcastically. I steal a fry from the tray and take a bite from the oil drenched potato. "Dates with you usually end in you wanting something," I say before I can stop myself. Bruce only chuckles and shrugs. When we were married, when we were dating, I was all too willing to end the night kissing him, among other things. Today is no exception. But I know better, and I know this will only complicate things more than either of us can fathom.
Bruce watches as I take a bite of my burger. He continues to chew happily, his eyes never leaving mine. "What makes you think I don't want anything?" he asks. He tosses the last bit of his burger into his mouth and watches as I swallow the last bite I took.
"And what do you want, Bruce?" I ask when my mouth is clear. I know I shouldn't ask. I shouldn't even want to know anything about him, about his wants and needs, but curiosity is too tempting.
He shrugs and lets out a small sigh. He must've thought it would've been harder to convince me to indulge him. The way he shifts his eyes back and forth, his mind forcing itself to skip over a few of his thoughts, make me realize he had a whole speech prepared.
"Answers," he finally says. "I want answers."
There are only two things Bruce would want, or needs, answers to. He wants to know why I left, or he wants to know about the power surges. One of these is a conversation I don't want to have today, if ever. I only hope he asks me about the latter.
"About?" I ask cautiously.
He takes a sip from his cup near his fries, his eyes never leaving mine as he drinks the liquid. When his thirst is sufficiently quenched, he places his cup back onto the tray and lets out another sigh. "The power surges," he finally answers.
I feel my shoulders relax and I nod. "Yes," I begin, "They've been happening on the island for a few years, but only recently have they been getting dangerous."
Bruce nods. "And the impending Amazon attack?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.
"Is only a rumor," I answer. "I don't know what's going on, and no matter how much I've tried, they still don't trust men, but the Amazons aren't going to attack Man's world." I take a second to think of what to say to Bruce. Should I tell him there has been trouble among the Amazons. Do I still trust him enough to know what has been happening with my people?
I don't have the answer before he says, "But they've attacked someone." I look up and my head nods. "You think they attacked Hippolyta?"
I let out a sigh, the weight of his words forcing the thought that I had buried long ago back to the forefront of my mind. I would have never thought an Amazon to be capable of hurting their Queen, and if it hadn't happened to me, the thought would have never formed in my mind. But Themyscira is a different place than it once was. The Amazons are scared, and scared warriors tend to fight if they are motivated enough.
"Before I would've told you no," I answer.
"What changed your mind?" He takes another fry from the tray and plops it into his mouth. "They attacked you," he says, answering his own question. I only give him a small nod. "When?"
"A few years ago," I answer. "One of my guards came to my room and attacked me."
"What happened?" he asks. He turns so that he is facing only me, his attention focused solely on my face.
"I don't know," I say with a small shrug. "I subdued her, but when I asked her why she had attacked, she didn't have an answer. It was like she couldn't even remember how she got in my room."
"Like she was possessed?" he asks as he leans closer to me, lowering his voice. He doesn't want anyone to know what we're speaking of, and although the neighboring noises of screaming passengers and roaring roller coasters would drown out our conversation from any one with the intention of eavesdropping, he doesn't want to take a chance. We've had many conversations like this, close enough to each other that I can smell the faint cologne on his neck. Today is no different.
He smells the same as he did a decade ago, the same cologne, the same soap, the same hair products; it brings a warm smile to my face. I want nothing more than to reach over and run a hand through his hair, feel my fingers run through his longer locks, rest my head on his shoulder as we talk in whispers. The feelings I had pushed back long ago have been threatening to break through for the last forty-eight hours, and the more Bruce and I talk like we used to, the more we sneak the looks and smiles and flirt as if no one is watching, the more I wish I could take back the last eleven years.
"Like she was possessed," I say with a nod, agreeing with his question. He nods and closes his eyes before he takes a deep breath. "I just wish I knew what was going on," I confess.
Bruce opens his eyes and lets out a sigh. "We'll figure it out," he says. My heart makes a small leap in my chest. We? Does that mean he wants to work on this, together? I haven't worked with Bruce in years - a fact that doesn't go unnoticed by the man seated in front of me. He watches me intently, watching with bated breath as I nod and thank him, before I tear my gaze away and look toward the other patrons seated around us.
There is a couple on the far end speaking in whispers. Their hands are intertwined as they wait for their food, the smiles on their faces evidence enough that they are truly happy to be together. I am jealous of them. I remember that feeling all too well.
I turn away from the couple, letting my eyes meet Bruce's momentarily. I flash him a small smile and he reciprocates. "What made you decide to keep the beard?" I ask, changing the question, asking what I've been wondering since I saw that picture Penelope brought back years ago. For most of the time I've known him, Bruce has always maintained a clean shaven appearance. Beside the occasional stubble, I rarely saw Bruce with facial hair. It suits him.
Bruce unconsciously strokes the hair on his chin and shrugs. "I needed a change," he answers.
"It looks nice," is all I say. I watch as he flashes a smile and nods. He must know it looks nice, or he wouldn't continue to keep it.
"Why did you cut your hair?" Bruce asks.
I raise an eyebrow. How did he know I cut my hair? I only took off a few inches, but the way I keep it up, hardly anyone notices. There are people who work by my side every day who haven't noticed the small change I've made, yet Bruce, who hasn't seen me in a decade, is able to notice this? I shouldn't be surprised. There is a reason he's known as the world's best detective. He notices every detail, no matter how small.
"I needed a change," I say, repeating his answer. He only smirks.
"It's nice. It suits you," he says. "Being Queen suits you. I told you this when we first met, you were born to lead."
I only shrug my shoulders. I know I should take the compliment with a smile, should revel in a sense of pride that Bruce seems to think I didn't leave to chase a dream, but I can't. If it had happened any other way, maybe I could. But the past attached to my new title only brings forth feelings of sadness.
Bruce must see my face change because he asks, "What's wrong?" and tilts his head again, waiting for my answer.
"It's harder than I thought," I confess. I let out a small chuckle, trying to fill the awkward silence that I've created by my confession.
Bruce says nothing. I don't blame him. I've given him an opportunity to gloat, to tell me my decisions were the wrong one, and if he were a lesser man, he would take it without thought. But Bruce isn't a lesser man. He's compassionate, and kind, and willing to see past my faults. For crying out loud, the man allowed me to stay in his home after I left him eleven years ago and took our daughter to an island he couldn't get to. I don't know if I would ever be able to look at him with anything but hatred in my eyes if the roles were reversed.
We stare at each other in silence, both wondering if what we're doing is going to help or hurt us in the end. We know there's a ticking time clock, counting down the moments until we are no longer face to face. I only hope we can finally air out everything before time is up.
XXXXXXXXX
20:43
The rest of the day at the park with Bruce is awkward. We both try to enjoy the rides with each other, but the mood has changed after our lunch conversation. Penelope and the boys conspired the entire day, avoiding us most of the time, only stopping by for a few minutes at a time, before taking off, leaving Bruce and I alone.
By the end of the day, Bruce and I have nothing left to speak of - at least nothing that wouldn't result in a public fight. It made the car ride back to the manor unbearably quiet, especially with Penelope fast asleep in the back seat, too exhausted after a busy adrenaline filled day.
We quickly pull up to the manor, my eyes focused on Damian's car as he pulls up beside us. He kills the engine and hops out of the car, closing the driver's door, before he looks over at Jon. The two walk in through the front door, past Alfred who stands waiting for the rest of us, and part ways - Damian goes toward the stairs that'll lead him to his room and Jon goes to the left, toward the cave.
Tim gets out of the backseat and stretches, before he comes over to our car. He waits for Bruce to turn off the engine and get out from behind the wheel, before he whispers something to the older man. Bruce nods and Tim turns on his heel, gives me a small wave, and walks into the manor, silently thanking Alfred with a nod.
I open the passenger door and step out of the vehicle, my sandals making a small crunch on the gravel that lines the driveway. I watch as Bruce opens the back door and leans in, scoops Penelope up into his arms and carries her out, pushing the door closed with his foot. He waits for me to shut my door before he heads inside. I follow.
"How was the park?" Alfred asks, a smirk on his face as he closes the front door behind me.
Bruce turns to face the Englishman. Penelope stirs in his arms and lets out a large yawn, stretching her long arms, before she flashes Alfred a thumbs up. "It was good," Bruce says. He looks over at me, his eyes pleading that I agree in front of the two so we don't have to answer any more awkward questions.
"Yes," I say, a small yawn of my own escaping my lips. "It was wonderful."
Alfred nods. "Splendid," he says. "If there is nothing further, I shall retire for the night."
Bruce gives Alfred a small nod and looks down at Penelope, who has fully woken in his arms. "Thank you, Alfred," he says. "I'm going to get this one to bed."
He turns to walk toward the stairs when Penelope's groggy voice says, "Are you coming, Mom?"
Bruce glances over his shoulder at me, before he continues up the stairs. I don't answer my daughter as I give Alfred a small smile and follow them up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. I swear I can hear Alfred chuckling as he walks up the stairs behind me, before he disappears around the corner toward his room.
Inside Penelope's room, Bruce gently places her on the bed. "I'm not a baby," I can hear her say as she pushes Bruce's hands from her, before she stands from the bed and kicks her shoes off.
"Then I suggest you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed," Bruce says, tossing her a set of pajamas that has been laying on the top of her dresser.
Penelope sticks out her tongue, trying to stifle another yawn, and grabs the clothing. She runs into the adjoining bathroom, leaving the two of us to glance around her bedroom. Her room here is similar to her room on Themyscira. There's a large bed in the center, far bigger than a child her age needs. On the walls are pictures of various friends from the school she attends for half the year. The stack of paperwork that will be her schoolwork for the next year, or at least the months she is with me, sits on the desk. I will need to make sure I personally take that back to the island. Antiope will kill me if I have to send her back for it again.
One the far wall is a large bookcase, filled with dozens upon dozens of books. I know it's only a fraction of what the actual library in the manor holds, but these are her books, and each of them mean something special to her.
I continue to look over her room as the sound of the bathroom faucet running fills my ears. I can see Bruce watching me from the corner of my eye as I look at where my daughter sleeps. I look over the photos she has hanging of her and her brothers, of her and Alfred, and of her and Bruce. They all look so happy with their wide smiles and bright eyes.
It isn't long before the bathroom sink is turned off and Penelope comes rushing out, dressed in the pajamas Bruce tossed at her. Her hair is down and covers her shoulders as she jumps into her bed and buries herself under her blankets.
"Aren't you going to tuck me in?" she asks after a moment, her eyes staring at both her father and I, narrowing the longer she stares at us.
"I believe you said you were too old to be tucked in," I say, a smile on my face as I repeat the words she told me the night before she was brought to Gotham.
Bruce nods. He must've gotten the same speech from her during her time here.
Penelope only shrugs and falls back. Bruce rolls his eyes as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. I follow, take a seat on the opposite edge, and smile at my daughter.
She gives us a wide smile and we both pause, knowing she is up to something. Her attempts to get us together have been anything but subtle, but we'll indulge her for the time being, wanting to make her happy for the remaining time we have together. It's the least we can do after depriving her of her complete family for years.
"I had fun today," Penelope confesses as she shifts in the bed, trying to get comfortable. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Bruce and I say in unison. We pause and stare at each other, before we turn back to our daughter. She watches with a smirk, gives us a wink, and finally relaxes into the mattress.
"You get some sleep," Bruce says as he leans down and kisses her forehead.
I follow Bruce's actions and kiss Penelope's forehead. "I assure you, there will be plenty of time for scheming tomorrow," I say, a smirk of my own on my face.
Penelope only giggles. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says as she changes her face to a sweet smile.
I only shake my head as I reach for the blanket. My hand brushes against Bruce's, who had the same thought. He looks up at me and gives me a small nod, releasing the edge of the blanket, allowing me to fully grab it. I don't look back at the man as I pull the blanket up to Penelope's chest and lean down, giving her one more kiss on the cheek.
"Get some sleep," I say, rising from the bed. When I turn I see Bruce is already at the door, his hand on the light switch.
He waits for me to step out of the room and into the hallway before he flicks off the light and shuts the door. We wait in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what else to say to the other. I know he felt my hand against his. The way he's glaring at me, I wonder if he knows exactly how much that small hand brush made my heart skip.
"I'll be downstairs," he says, clearing his voice once before he continues, "we can look at the data from the last few months."
I give him a small nod and say, "I'll be down in a few minutes." I need to give myself some time to clear my head before I go back to a place that means so much to him, a place he only allows those he cares about to enter.
Bruce only nods and turns on his heel. He walks down the hall, away from the bedroom door that separates us from Penelope, until he reaches the top of the staircase. I watch as he begins to retreat down the stairs, out of view, and I realize all this time I've been avoiding how it's going to feel when these last few days are done and I have to go back. It hurt the first time I walked away. It nearly killed me the second time. I don't know how I'll survive the third.
I glance up at Jason, the grin on his face wide enough to tell me he would have done the same, before I shrug. "I did no such thing," I say, stepping closer to the couple in front of me.
Jason rolls his eyes and turns to Tim, who only lets out a small chuckle.
"Cool it, guys," Dick says from behind me, nudging my shoulder, telling me to move up to the gate.
After ditching Mom and Dad, we had all gone to one of the roller coasters they had been dying to take me to. It was a wooden coaster, and although it was smaller than most of the others we had seen coming in, it had been thrilling. I can't remember the last time my heart felt like it was going to fall out of my mouth, but I couldn't wait to do it again. After the wooden coaster, Damian and Jon decided they wanted to get on a few other rides on the other end of the park, so they had split and left the remaining four of us to check out a ride that had been added three years ago.
"I bet they're just standing around awkwardly," Tim says with a smirk.
Jason walks up to the gate in the line beside mine and Dick and shakes his head. "No, I bet Diana's convinced Bruce to go on at least one ride."
No one has a chance to comment at what Jason has said as our empty train comes to a stop in front of us. The gates open and the four of us walk to our seats, carefully pulling our harnesses over our shoulders, before buckling the straps between our legs.
Dick extends his arm and pushes my harness down, making sure it clicks one more time, before he relaxes in his seat. He did this on the last ride, making sure to check my buckle before we took off, and I'm sure he'll be doing it for the rest of the day. It's one of the reasons I love having him as my older brother. He's protective; I only hope it doesn't come up to bite me when I'm older.
"You ready, kid?" Jason asks from his seat behind me.
With the harness around my shoulders, I can't turn to face him. Instead I flash him a thumbs up as we hear the breaks release, letting us roll to the bottom of the large hill. We begin to climb up the track, my heart beating faster and faster as I anticipate the drop. Higher and higher we go, stopping at the top for a second, before we rush down the track.
The feeling that settles into my stomach is awkward at first, but the more I feel the wind rushing through my hair, the more I like it. I let out an excited scream as we dip into a tunnel. My eyes shut as we go through a loop. It isn't long before we pull back to where we started and we hear the breaks lock back into place. Our harnesses release and in one swift movement, I unbuckle the strap between my legs and jump up and out of my seat, scrambling to the exit, ready to ride another one.
"Wait for us, kid," Jason calls as he rushes after me, pushing past me toward the exit. He wants to be the one to pick the next ride.
I run after Jason, a big smile on my face. We make it to the center of the area and wait for Dick and Tim, both of them laughing at a joke neither Jason or I heard.
"Where to next?" Tim asks. He turns his head toward the snack cart near one of the trees, his mouth watering at the giant pretzels turning in the small heater.
Without looking Jason points his thumb behind him, a smirk on his face as he watches Dick's eyes get wide. "You've got to be kidding me," Dick says. We watch as Tim rushes toward the snack cart, leaving the three of us. Jason only shrugs and continues to smirk. "She can't ride that," Dick says.
Jason turns his neck and looks over his shoulder at the seats full of people that fly over our heads, their legs dangling as they rush through the track. When he looks back at me and Dick, his smirk grows wider. Out of the four of my brothers, he loves danger the most. He said it makes him feel alive, but I feel like there's more to that story than he's told me. "Of course she can," he says. "Unless, you're scared." He gives me a wink and I shake my head. I'm not scared.
"You're on," I say, punching Jason gently in the arm.
Tim joins the three of us. In one of his hands is a pretzel that already has two large bites, in the other is a soda. If he's going to eat right before we get on this ride, he better sit far away from us. I do not feel like being covered in puke at the start of our day.
"How dare you not bring any for us," Dick says. He crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a huff.
Tim only shrugs and takes another bite from his pretzel. "You have your own job," he says, his mouth full, "buy your own damn pretzel."
Dick rolls his eyes and turns to me and Jason. He gives us both a small nod and we turn toward the ride Jason has picked out. There is a small line, nothing like the last one we waited in, but it will still give Tim time to enjoy his snack. He teases the two other men as he shoves the last bite into his mouth, before he slurps up his soda and tosses his trash into one of the garbage cans placed throughout the line.
As we make our way through the line, stopping every few seconds, Jason looks up and growls. "Those bastards," he says as he scrunches his nose. He nods toward the people in front of us, his eyes settling on someone further ahead.
My eyes follow Jason's. A few people ahead of us are two men. They're faced away from us, but the obnoxious haircut is a dead giveaway to who one of the men are. Damian. That must mean the taller man next to him is Jon.
I watch as the line begins to move again. Damian and Jon turn the corner and walk down the line, their eyes widening when they stop right next to us. Dick leans against the bars that separate the four of us from Damian and Jon, his smirk directed more toward Jon than Damian. Everyone knows he has a crush on my brother, but Damian seems oblivious to it.
"Fancy meeting you here," Dick says. He reaches over and punches Damian in the shoulder.
Damian responds with a flash of his middle finger and a slap to Dick's chest. "Shut it," Damian says. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans up against the bar. "Is she even tall enough to get on here?" he asks when he sees me beside Tim.
My arms mimic his and cross over my chest. Of course I'm tall enough to get on. I'm not a baby, no matter what Mom, or Dad, or Dick, or even Damian think. "Can it," I say, sticking my tongue out at Damian.
He says nothing as he gives me a smirk. He loves to irritate me, when he's not giving me the silent treatment that is. It only adds to my suspicions that he hates me.
The line moves another few feet forcing Damian and Jon further ahead and away from us. Damian looks over Jon's shoulder and whispers something, his eyes never leaving mine. Jon only rolls his eyes and looks our way. He gives me a small apologetic smile. Damian may be his best friend, but Jon has voiced his disappointment in his treatment of me more than once.
My brothers and I move up the line, turning the corner where we first saw Damian and Jon. Dick looks down at me and nudges my shoulder. "Don't let him get to you," he whispers. "I think he's incapable of being nice."
Tim nods enthusiastically beside Dick. He's the one who spent the most time with Damian when they were younger. He knows how Damian thinks, how he works. It doesn't comfort me as much as they think, but I refuse to let Damian ruin my day.
We continue to walk down the line, hitting another curve. It's the last curve before we hit the large staircase that'll take us up to the loading dock. It isn't long before we're climbing up the stairs, overlooking everyone in the line behind us.
"We want the front!" Tim exclaims. He turns to me and must see my eyes wide. I may be adventurous, but I don't know if I can handle the front seat just yet.
Dick places his hand carefully on my shoulder and squeezes. "You two go ahead. We'll hang out in the middle. It's the best place anyway." I know he's lying, he's only saying that to make me feel better about not wanting to be seated in the front, but I don't care. Dick is always there to make me feel better, make sure I don't do something I can't take back. I don't know how, but I suspect he also knows the secret I've been keeping from the rest of the family, the secret only Alfred knows.
Jason and Tim give him a nod as we climb another two steps. Jason opens his mouth to respond to Dick, but stops when he sees something toward the end of the line. "Would you look at that," he says. He nudges his chin toward the start of the line and we all turn and look at what he's staring at.
Standing in the front of the line is none other than Mom and Dad, happily chatting and laughing. Dad is chewing on something. Judging from the same wrapper in his hands Tim had minutes earlier, I assume it's a pretzel. Mom is slowly drinking from a bottle of water. She nods at something Dad says and pushes her hair over her shoulder.
"It's working!" I exclaim. I turn to my brothers, a smile on my face. If Mom and Dad are riding roller coasters, laughing like good friends, maybe there's hope for them. Maybe, just maybe, I can change their minds about the divorce.
"What's working?" Dick asks. "Your plan to get them together?" He leans back against the wall, his eyes still locked on Mom and Dad.
I nod. I trust my brothers. I need to let them know everything I've been planning for the last year. I explain how Alfred and I came up with the idea of having Mom come pick me up, how I knew seeing each other would make Mom and Dad realize they were still in love with each other. I tell them about the divorce papers I found on Dad's desk. I don't tell them everything Alfred told me last night, about why they went their separate ways; it's not important right now.
By the time we reach the loading area, the four of us have agreed that we need to keep Mom and Dad together all day, hoping it'll force Dad to rethink the divorce papers. With their help, I know we'll be able to get them to see how much they truly love each other.
We reach the first ride attendant who stops the four of us to allow the line in front of us to clear a bit. When the next group of passengers get on and take off, the employee lets us pass. Tim and Jason split from me and Dick and trot to the longest line that will take them to the front row. Dick points to a line toward the middle and we make our way over. Over my shoulder I spot Damian and Jon a few rows over to the left. Damian stares at me, his eyebrows furrowed as he whispers something to Jon.
"Why does Damian hate me?"
The question startles Dick. He looks down at me and raises an eyebrow and takes a deep breath. "He doesn't," he lies. He doesn't convince me, and from the look on his face, I can see even he doesn't believe his own lie.
I shake my head and step forward when the couple at the gate jumps into their seats. "Why does Damian hate me?" I repeat.
Dick twists his lips and continues to stare at me. I'm almost convinced he's going to say nothing and brush off the question, when he lets out a sigh and shrugs his shoulders. "Damian and Diana were very close," he says. "When she left, he was devastated. Don't tell him I said this, but he cried for days when she left. I don't think he ever forgave her for leaving the way she did."
I try hard to keep my eyes from widening and nod my head. I knew Damian didn't like my mother, but I really had no clue why. Mom rarely spoke of him, even when I would catch her looking at the old photos I would sneak home, she refused to speak much of him. Although one time I overheard her talking to Antiope about "her son" and how she abandoned him, and for years I thought it was Tim she had been talking to. Maybe it was Damian after all. I never knew they were close.
"So he hates Mom," I say. It's not a question. Dick shrugs again. "Why does he take it out on me?"
Dick lets out another sigh, stepping up to the gate as the couple in front of us makes their way to their seats. He leans against the gate and takes a deep breath. "He's jealous of you," he says. "You get both Bruce and Diana. He only has Bruce, and most of the time he's too angry about Diana and his own mom that he gets into fights with Bruce for no reason."
I know I shouldn't ask. I know I should just take the answer Dick has given and go about my day, but I'm curious. Too curious, much like Alfred likes to remind me. Everyone at the manor keeps quiet when it comes to Damian's mother. I don't even know her name.
"Damian's mom?" I question. "What does this have to do with Damian's mom?"
Dick lets out another sigh. His head turns as the empty roller coaster zooms toward the loading dock and stops in front of us. The gate Dick is leaning on opens and the two of us step near the track, stepping into our seats. I pull the lap bar down, making sure it clicks loud enough for Dick to hear, before he takes his seat and secures his own lap bar.
"Damian's mom left when he was little," Dick explains. "I don't think he's heard from her since he was eleven." We watch as the ride attendants start to come down the line, checking everyone's lap bars, making sure they're secure. "But no more talk about Damian," he says, his face changing from serious to happy. "We're here for some fun."
The roller coaster takes off and in no time we're climbing the large hill that'll have us speeding down at over eighty miles an hour. I push Damian from my mind and raise my hands excitedly. Dick's right. We're here to have fun. Thinking of Damian and how to get on his good side will have to wait.
The burn of the alcohol as it slides down my throat is a subtle reminder I'm still alive, still here in a world where my best friend is gone. Still haunted by the memory of her leaving, taking our daughter with her without so much as a goodbye. I hate her for it.
No, that's a lie. I don't hate her. No matter how hurt I am by her leaving, I can't find it in my heart to hate Diana.
Some days I wonder if her leaving was my doing. If I hadn't obsessed over a case like I tend to, if I hadn't stayed out too late, if I hadn't put Gotham before our marriage…..this last year I've been racking my brain with the what ifs. None have brought me any comfort or closure, only more questions.
I take another sip from the glass in my hand, hoping the alcohol will take away the overwhelming heartache I have felt all day. I haven't slept in three days. It's starting to affect business, and today Lucius forced me out of my own building and ordered me to come home. I didn't have any fight left, so I did what he asked, quickly making my way back to the manor to relax with a glass of scotch in my study. I haven't left the room since.
Letting out a large sigh, I turn away from my desk, my eyes meeting those of my younger self in the portrait that hangs on the wall. How far I've fallen. The boy in the photo smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with the hope of a wonderful future. If only he had known his life would change in a matter of mere days.
The phone that has been on my desk since coming home begins to ring. It's the third time in as many hours it's done so, and just like the previous two times, I will let it go to voicemail. I don't have to look at the screen to know it's Lois checking up on me. She and Clark have made it their personal goal to make sure I don't revert back to my old ways, cowering in the dark, building a wall around myself as I push everyone out. And while I admire them for it, I wish they would just leave me alone.
The ringing phone becomes silent, but only for a moment. Within the minute the familiar tune fills the room and I let out a groan. If I don't answer, it'll be a few minutes before one of them is pounding on the front door to the manor and I don't need to see anyone. Not tonight.
I quickly down the last of my alcohol and place the empty glass on the desk, grab the phone, and answer the call.
"Yes?" I ask, placing the device to my ear.
Lois huffs on the other end before she says, "Next time, I'm showing up after the first missed call."
I roll my eyes and fall into the chair at my desk, slouching as I glance at the photos along the wall. "Next time, take the hint when I don't answer," I say.
"Listen here, Wayne," Lois says, her voice raising. "We're worried about you. Everyone's worried about you."
I shake my head although it's no use. She can't see me. There's no use pretending I'm fine when anyone who knows how much I love Diana knows I'm anything but okay. "I'm fine," I lie, scanning the wall, trying to distract myself from the unsolicited advice I know is bound to follow.
"Lucius called."
Clark's voice on the other end makes my stomach drop. They must be sitting in their living room, huddled next to each other as Jon sleeps upstairs, with me on speaker phone. No matter. They're still not going to be able to hold the impromptu therapy sessions they've been trying to get for the past year.
"Did he," I say, not the least bit interested in what my business manager has told the couple. "Seems he's getting bold as he nears his retirement."
"He's worried about you, Bruce," Clark says. He pauses for a moment. "We're all worried about you." I can hear as he shuffles on the sofa before he clears his throat and lets out a small sigh. "You've been ignoring the League, and Tim says you've been burying yourself in cases in Gotham and-"
"The League doesn't need me," I answer, cutting him off before he can continue the list of my apparent wrongdoings. I hear Clark sigh on the other end of the phone, but what I say isn't a lie. The League doesn't need me. As long as I'm still writing the checks, keeping the Watchtower functioning, there is no need for me to be involved. Besides, there are plenty of people now with memberships to the Justice League, my eldest son included.
"And I've been busy with Gotham. Crime is at an all time high and if I don't do anything, no one will."
"Crime is always at an all time high in Gotham," Lois says sarcastically. I don't need to see her to know she has rolled her eyes at her statement.
I let out an aggravated sigh. This conversation is going nowhere, and the longer I'm on the phone with Lois and Clark, the more I want to reach through the phone and punch the latter. I know Lois is the one who has pushed this conversation, but Clark will have to take the heat for his wife.
"I have work to do," I say into the phone, pinching the bridge of my nose as I try to calm my frustrations with everyone. Today is not the day to try my patience. I just want to sit in my study, staring at the wall, drowning my thoughts with very expensive alcohol. Being lectured by a farm boy from Kansas and his persistent wife was nowhere on my list of things to do tonight.
Lois begins to mutter a response, most likely to tell me where to shove it, but I end the call before she can finish her sentence. She'll get over it , and I'm sure Clark will be here to check up on me in the morning, but for tonight, I'll sit by my lonesome and get drunk.
My phone beeps in my hand and I quickly read the text from Lois, rolling my eyes at her choice of words. Maybe it'll take a bit longer for her to get over it, but still, she's got more important things to focus on. I quickly toss my phone onto the desk and slouch back into the chair as I contemplate whether another glass of scotch is necessary. Today has been a tough day. I almost don't blame Lucius for forcing me home.
There's a small knock on the door before it opens and reveals Alfred. His sad eyes meet mine and he shakes his head, not bothering to hide his disappointment in how I've conducted myself the last few months. "Master Wayne," he says as he stares at me. His eyes fall to the empty glass on my desk and I know he is here to lecture me yet again. "Mr. Fox told me you had quite an exciting day."
I roll my eyes and narrow then. My left hand reaches up to scratch my chin, stopping momentarily when the stubble on my face pokes the skin on my hand. When I pull back my eyes catch the silver band on my finger and I let out a sad sigh. It's been nearly a year since Diana left, nearly a year since she took my daughter from me, yet I couldn't bring myself to separate from one of the last things my estranged wife gave me.
"Lucius had no right," I say. I'm angry that Lucius forced me home. So I yelled at a few employees - what employer hasn't? He had no right to lock me out of the biggest business meeting this year. "I should have him fired."
"You should be thanking him," Alfred says, his eyes narrowing as he shakes his head once more. "You should be thanking your lucky stars that he stepped in when he did." I shake my head again. I wasn't going to lay a hand on that intern and they all knew it. He was just a kid and I wasn't that stupid.
"I wasn't going to hit him," I say, defending myself. "I got angry and yelled. Tell me one person who hasn't done that."
Alfred shakes his head. "Master Wayne, you did more than yell. And you know perception is everything."
I let out a heavy sigh and drop my head. Alfred is right, perception is everything. I don't know why I snapped on that poor intern. All he had said was he had forgotten the date and it made my blood boil. I could never forget today's date.
May Nineteenth. PJ's birthday. My daughter is two today and I haven't seen her, haven't heard her little giggle in nearly a year.
I pour another glass of scotch, avoiding Alfred's gaze as I do. I know he's going to make a comment about my drinking but I don't care. Carefully I raise the glass to my lips and take a sip. "It's her birthday," I whisper after the alcohol has burned its way down my throat. "It's her birthday and I haven't seen her."
Alfred nods. He knows what today is. He has the day marked in his calendar in bold lines. "I know, Master Wayne," he whispers, stepping deeper into the room to place a hand on my shoulder. "But drinking yourself into oblivion will not bring her back."
I take another sip of alcohol to spite the Englishman. I can hear him sigh at my side. "I've tried to find them. For months, I've tried to find them. Every clue I've followed until there was nothing left. The island has disappeared, the embassy's portal won't work - they've just disappeared into thin air."
For months I looked for Diana and PJ. I've flown to Greece more times than I'd like to count, searched for the island, but I could never find it.
"Diana just got up and left me. She left Damian, and Tim, and everyone. And she took my daughter. How else am I supposed to cope with that?" I ask, raising the glass, letting the liquid inside slosh around.
"I know," Alfred says. He doesn't seem too distraught. It's strange considering how much he regarded Diana as a daughter. He was the one most devastated by her departure, but that tune changed a few weeks later. He's hiding something - I intend to find out what it is.
The doorbell chimes throughout the manor, forcing Alfred and I to stare at each other, both trying to figure out who could be here at this hour. Tim and Damian are out on patrol. Dick has occupied himself in Bludhaven, distancing himself from me; we've been getting into more arguments than I'd like to count since Diana's departure. Jason has gone off the grid. I haven't heard from him in nearly two months, haven't seen him in nearly twice as long. I fear he's getting caught up in shady stuff once again.
I know it isn't Lucius at the door. He knows better than to come to the manor this late at night, especially before he's even tried to call me. And if Clark and Lois were to make good on their threat, they wouldn't allow a physical door to stand in their way. They would have either been transported into the cave, or walked through the front door without a second thought. No, whoever is at the door is no one that has any business here, especially this late.
"Who could be here at this unholy hour," Alfred says to himself.
I absentmindedly stroke the stubble on my face, mentally reminding myself I need to shave. "I don't know," I say as I take a sip of the alcohol on my desk. "But whoever it is doesn't need to be here. I don't need to see anyone." I give Alfred a look that says I am in no mood for visitors. It is the same look I have been giving him for the better part of the last year.
"Very well," he says as he turns on his heel and disappears out of the room.
With a huff, I turn my chair and stare at the portrait that hangs behind me. How I wish things could go back to that moment, when things were easier. When I had a family that was whole.
I continue to stare at the portrait. The alcohol on my desk goes forgotten as I close my eyes and drop my head into my hands, wondering where I let things go wrong. Maybe if I had been more understanding, more willing to work with Diana, she wouldn't have left like she had. Maybe if I hadn't spent years trying to push her away, I wouldn't have lost her like I did. These thoughts have kept me awake more nights than I'd like to admit.
I hear the door to the study open and Alfred clears his throat. "Master Wayne," he says. His voice is shaky and I can't help but wonder what has my oldest friend rattled. Perhaps it was Lucius at the door ready to reprimand me after all. "You have a visitor."
I let out a sigh and shake my head, letting the small hairs on my face scratch the palm of my hands. "I told you I didn't want visitors."
Alfred clears his throat once more. "Sir, you'll want to see this visitor."
The room is quiet as I take another deep breath. I don't understand why Alfred is pushing this. Whoever has come to see me can wait a few hours and come back in the morning. The study door closes and I let out a frustrated sigh. "Alfred," I say, my shoulders tensing as I feel the air around me change. Something is wrong. Something is different.
Alfred doesn't get the chance to respond before another voice chimes in. A very familiar voice.
"Bruce," she says calmly, her voice quiet, nearly a whisper.
My eyes shoot open and I turn the chair. My heart stops when I see Diana standing alone. She is dressed in armor. The breast plate that sits atop her chest has the emblem I've seen on her for years. She wears the same bracers on her wrists, however the gold cuff on her left arm is a new addition; I'd seen Hippolyta wear one similar many years ago. The white and gold skirt she wears allows me to see part of the armored boots on her feet, coming up to cover her knees. Over her shoulders is a deep blue cloak, keeping most of her right side hidden from my view. I don't need to see her hip to know she has a sword there.
On her head is a golden crown, so intricate I can see only the finest of the Amazon crafters was given the task. She stands tall, her shoulders back as she continues to stare at me in silence. Being Queen suits her, but I can't help but remember what it took to get her there.
"Diana?" I ask as I stand from my seat. I turn to look for Alfred, but he is nowhere to be found. It is only Diana and I alone, staring at each other with conflicting looks on our faces. I can tell the moment I look at her, she's dressed for a war - I'm afraid she's worried she'll find it here with me.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. The question comes out much more harshly than I intend. I watch as she blinks, trying to reign in her own emotions, before she sighs.
"We need to talk," is all she says as she looks toward the closed door. She obviously wants whomever is behind it to stay there.
"I don't want to talk to you," I say. I'm trying to reign in my anger, but seeing this woman across from me, my wife across from me, does more bad than good. For a year I've wondered what I would say to her, what I would tell her if I ever got the chance. I would want to know why, give her a chance to explain everything. But right now all I want is for her to leave.
"We need to talk," she repeats. Her shoulders tense as she takes a step toward her and I can see fear in her eyes for the first time in years.
I lean against the desk as I stare at her. How dare she come back after all this time. Even worse, how dare she come back and not bring my daughter. "Where's PJ?" I ask, my eyes scanning Diana's face for any indication that my daughter is alright.
Diana sighs and calls for Alfred. He opens the door and walks in the room, his hand curled around the small hand of the little girl I thought I'd never see again. She rushes up to Diana and hugs her, her small arms wrapped around Diana's leg with all her might. Diana places her hand on top of PJ's head, and gives her a reassuring smile, watching as the toddler releases her leg. She kneels beside the child and I mirror her movements.
"Bruce, this is Penelope," she says, placing a hand on the child's tummy.
I watch as PJ looks down at Diana's hand, a smile on her face as she pats the woman's hand. She looks up at me and I realize those are the same eyes I stared into for a year each night as I rocked her to sleep. Those are the same eyes I saw every morning as she greeted me in Diana's arms.
"Penelope," Diana whispers, "there's your daddy."
PJ's eyes light up as she looks at me. "Daddy," she says as she runs toward me, her smile wide.
She's in my arms in a second, and my guard drops as my arms close around her. I never thought I'd see her again, much less have her here giggling as she hugs me, her small head on my chest as she mumbles incoherent things.
I realize Diana has tricked me. She knew I would speak out of anger, but the moment I saw PJ I would forget all that. I should be more angry, I should want to yell at this woman until every living soul in Gotham can hear me, but with PJ in my arms that all goes to the back of my mind. Eventually we'll talk. For now, I want to hold onto my little girl and never let go.
XXXXXXXXXX
I watch as Alfred and PJ continue to giggle with each other as they lay on the sofa, their eyes focused on the ceiling above them as Alfred tells PJ a bedtime story. Each minute that passes, the little girl's eyes begin to droop more and more, and I know it's only a matter of time before she's asleep.
In the two hours since Diana and PJ have been here, I haven't been able to tear my eyes away from her. I can't risk blinking and missing another moment of her life - I've already missed a year.
Diana stands beside me, leaning against the door as she watches Alfred and our daughter. She knows she can trust the older man with her, so her guard is down, at least for now. I can't say whether it will be in a few moments when we have the talk I've been postponing for over an hour.
"We need to talk," I finally say when I see PJ has fallen asleep, her breathing even as she curls up next to Alfred. I'm only repeating what Diana has been saying for the last hour, but I need her to believe it's on my terms. I need some kind of control in this situation.
Diana nods. She doesn't say a word as she follows me out of the room, down the hall, and into my study. She watches as I take a seat behind my desk, the desk she gifted me years ago, and closes the door, before she takes a seat herself.
"Why?" is all I can ask. "Why did you leave?"
Diana closes her eyes and sighs. "You know why," she answers.
No, I don't know why. I don't know why she felt the need to leave when we could have come up with a solution together. I don't know why she took my daughter. The answer leaves me with more questions, and more anger.
"Are you back for good?" I ask. I know the answer before she even lets out the breath she's been holding. Of course she's not back. If she had been, she wouldn't be wearing all the armor. She wouldn't still be wearing the crown.
"Themyscira needs me, Bruce," she answers.
I scoff. "I needed you," I say. I watch as shock flashes on her face. I've always needed Diana, even before we were romantically involved, but I was too stubborn to admit it. "I needed you, and PJ to stay here."
"I know," she says. It doesn't change anything though. The damage has already been done.
I look away from Diana and allow myself a few moments to collect my thoughts. If we continue this way, we're both going to get emotional, and nothing is going to be resolved. I can't afford that. I can't afford Diana getting upset and leaving with PJ again.
"Why come back then, if you're not staying?" I ask as I return my focus toward the woman seated across from me.
She shifts in her seat and fidgets with something on her finger - I realize she's still wearing the rings I gave her.
"I," she begins, her voice cracking. "Every morning, I would look into Penelope's eyes and would see you, Bruce," she says. "I never grew up with a father, and even though I loved my mother, I always felt like I was missing something. I don't want that for her. I don't want her to question where she's from. I want her to know her family …..all of her family."
I give her a small nod. "She knows me?" I ask. After all, the last time I saw PJ, she was still in diapers and barely able to walk on her own.
Diana nods. "I've never kept you a secret from her, Bruce. She knows who you are. She knows Alfred, and the boys. She misses all of you."
"And I've missed her. But what are we supposed to do? You don't want to leave her here in Gotham. I don't want you to take her to Themyscira. You had to know this was going to end it as an argument."
Diana sighs. "It doesn't have to, Bruce," she says. Obviously her time as Queen has made her believe some solutions can be reached by only talking.
"And what do you suggest?" I ask. My arms fold across my chest as I lean back in my chair. I'm prepared to fight to keep PJ here with me. Now that she's not on the island, hiding away from me, I'm prepared to do whatever I can to make sure my daughter is a part of my life. As I look up and notice Diana adjusting the band on her arm, I realize she's come to Gotham just as prepared to fight me.
"I'm here for a compromise, Bruce," she says. Her eyebrows furrow and she shifts in her chair. It's not going to be easier convincing either of us what to do, but the two of us need to come up with a solution quickly.
It takes nearly an hour of bickering to come down to a compromise. We will split custody of PJ, whether we like it or not. We're both her parents, and even if I don't want to admit it, even if I want to be selfish and keep her to myself, she needs her mother in her life. Diana knows this as well.
"This is a terrible idea," Diana says as she chews her bottom lip. Her arms are crossed over her chest and I can see she is starting to second guess coming here. But we've already reached a decision. To go back now on it would mean another hour of arguing, and neither of us want that. Besides, Tim and Damian will be back soon, and I suspect she doesn't want to have to face either of them just yet.
"It is," I say, agreeing with her. "But there doesn't seem to be any other way we're going to get what we want." I watch as she rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair, pouting. "What are we going to do when she decides she doesn't want to move back and forth?" I ask. It's a question I know we've both been thinking about, both knowing eventually PJ is going to grow tired of living in two places.
Diana shrugs. "When she is old enough to make that decision, she'll make it. And both of us have to take her wishes into account."
I let out a sigh and nod. Hopefully that will be long into the future. Hopefully I won't have to live in a world where PJ doesn't live with me. I know Diana is thinking the same thought.
The room is silent for a moment as we both realize what has just happened. By setting up this custody plan we've both acknowledged that things between me and Diana are over. There's no going back to the way things were. No going back to the partnership we built over the years. The thought alone is nearly as heartbreaking as Diana leaving the first time.
This whole night, the whole time Diana was here, I've tried to hold back my anger, hoping by some miracle she'd change her mind and come back to me, to us. Now that I know it's not a possibility, there's no point in me getting angry anymore. No point in pointing out the obvious. She hurt me. In her mind, I hurt her. We're both to blame for this. There is no use dwelling on past mistakes, trying to fix the problems that have obviously been there for years.
Diana clears her throat and shakes her head, drawing me out of my thoughts. Again she fidgets with her hands, stopping when she realizes what she's been doing. "I should go," she says, standing from her seat.
I say nothing, because I don't agree with her statement. She shouldn't go. She should stay, but nothing I say will convince her otherwise. I watch as her eyes focus on me, her face twisting into something I can't quite put my finger on. Regret? Sadness? A little of both. I should say something. I should tell her she needs to stay. But there is no point. Diana is stubborn.
She lets out a small sigh and walks up to the desk I sit behind, placing something down in front of me. "Goodbye, Bruce," she says as she walks out of the room, out of my life for what will probably be the last time.
I listen in silence until I can no longer hear her boots on the floor, letting out a sigh when I realize I've made the same mistake and let her leave again. I push the chair back and stand from my seat, my eyes falling to the desk to see what Diana has left.
The engagement ring I gave Diana years ago shines on the desk, too bright to be ignored. Seeing the ring makes me realize it's finally over. Our relationship is over.
XXXXXXX
Present Day
My hands grip the steering wheel as I try to maneuver through the parking lot, around the excited kids that line the packed stalls and parents trying to reel their excitement in long enough to get to the front gates. To my right, Diana sits in the passenger seat. She's staring out the window, trying to keep her focus off of me.
I glance up in the rearview mirror and see PJ staring out the window at the large roller coaster track we can see from the parking lot. Her eyes are wide as she bounces in her seat excitedly. It's been years since I've taken her to the amusement park, the last time she was barely able to get on the children's coaster. I worry she's going to let her brothers persuade her to go on something she's not ready to handle.
I quickly pull into an open spot by a familiar car. When I cut off the engine, Dick and Jason open the car doors and step out. "Where's Alfred?" Jason asks when I step out from behind the wheel.
I give my second eldest a glare and shake my head. "He said he's way past his prime to be here," I answer. I watch as Diana gets out of the car and closes her door, her lips curling into a smile when she sees the two men. "Where are Tim, Damian, and Jon?" I ask, noticing Damian's car on the other side of Dick's.
"They went to get the tickets," Dick answers.
He watches as PJ opens the rear door of my car and braces himself for one of her running hugs, catching her in his arms.
"What am I, chopped liver?" Jason asks from beside Dick.
"Yes," PJ and Dick say in unison, before they burst into a fit of giggles. She would deny it if you asked her, but Dick is PJ's favorite brother. Barbara once told me it had something to do with the oldest/youngest child dynamic, but I think it's because he's the closest. With Tim being in San Francisco, and Jason doing whatever he does around the world, and Damian never speaking to her, Dick is usually the first PJ calls when she needs someone to talk to - other than Alfred of course.
"Well that's just rude," Jason says as he crosses his arms over his chest, pretending to be hurt. PJ only giggles once more before she hops out of Dick's arms and wraps her arms around Jason's waist. "That's much better."
Dick turns to me and Diana and gives us both a smile. "Just like old times," he says with a smirk. He glances over his shoulder at the coaster, watching as a train carrying screaming riders flies by, before he looks back to PJ. "Let's go!"
The five of us walk toward the front gate where we meet up with Tim, Damian, and Jon. Tim quickly hands everyone their ticket and we walk into the park, getting past security with fairly little attention drawn to us. A few attendees notice Diana, even though she remains in a casual tshirt and shorts, her hair pulled up in a braided ponytail, but they say nothing to draw more attention to her.
When we make it past all the souvenir shops, into the center of the park that branches off toward the dozens of rides, we stop. PJ turns to me and Diana and smirks. "So, we've all partnered up, and we'll meet here in two hours," she says. She grabs Dick's hand and pulls him to the right, down the cobbled path that leads to a few of the new roller coasters. The rest of the boys follow her, leaving Diana and I alone in the center of the park.
"That took surprisingly less time than I thought it would," Diana says from behind me.
I turn to look at the woman and nod. I knew PJ was being sneaky and planning something with the boys when I walked into the room and she and Tim were speaking in hushed tones, but this is beyond what I expected.
"I suppose you're my partner for at least the next two hours," I say, giving her a shrug.
Diana nods. "It appears so," is her response.
She turns and begins to walk down one of the paths lined by neatly trimmed hedges. I follow her, quickening my pace until we are walking side by side. I watch as Diana says nothing as she continues to walk, her sandals creating a small clapping noise each and every time they hit the pavement.
We walk until we come to another clearing, a few coasters in front of us. All of these are newer, neither of us having ridden on them before. "You ready?" I ask as I point toward the one furthest away. Judging by the longer line, I can see it is the newest coaster in the area.
Diana glances at the coaster, watching the track with wide eyes. It's been a while since she's been on anything like this and her hesitation is evidence that she is rethinking this whole day.
"I mean, if you're scared we can just go play the arcade games," I tease. I know she's not going to back away from a challenge, especially if it comes from me.
As expected, Diana turns to face me. The scared look on her face disappears as her eyes narrow. "Let's go," she says in a huff, walking into the line.
I follow her, a smirk on my face. I don't even know what this ride does, but that doesn't matter. I was able to convince one of the most stubborn people on the planet to go on with me. That is a feat in and of itself.
We stand in line for what seems like an eternity, but in reality is only about twenty minutes. We watch as other riders talk happily amongst their parties, each excited to experience what has been advertised for months. The closer to the front of the line we get, the more Diana tenses. I can't help but smirk when I realize I finally have the upper hand.
"Don't tell me Wonder Woman is scared of a little roller coaster," I tease when we make it to the front of the line.
One of the attendants walks along the edge of the coaster, testing each rider's harness. He stops when he sees the two of us standing behind the gate, waiting to be seated on the next train, before he shakes his head and continues his job.
Diana begins to nervously ring her hands as she watches the train take off and begin its steady incline up the track. "It's just been a while," she confesses. She turns to face me, her breath catching in the back of her throat when she realizes how close I am - not like I had a choice. The teenagers that are lined up behind me are all too eager to get a glimpse of the ride before they jump on, pushing me closer to the woman than I feel comfortable with.
Diana clears her throat and continues, "Although I'm hoping it may be a little easier than this emotional rollercoaster," she says in a whisper.
My eyebrow raises as the gate in front of us opens. Diana walks toward the empty train, leaving me to rethink her last statement. Emotional rollercoaster? Does that mean what I think it means? Could Diana be having as hard a time being here as I have been?
I quickly follow her, stepping into my seat, pulling the harness over my chest. It locks in place. The ride attendant from before comes over to check everyone's harness, before we're off and climbing up the track.
Beside me Diana is gripping the bars to her harness tightly. It makes me giggle, seeing as how she would be the only one to survive if something malfunctioned; I think she sometimes forgets she's nearly invulnerable and can fly.
When we hit the peak I turn to my left and steal a glance from Diana. As we rush down the track I watch as Diana lets out an excited scream. Her hand comes up and grabs mine, gripping it tightly as we continue down the track, up small hills, through two loops and down a false drop or two. By the time we make it back to the loading dock, the both of us are laughing, the awkward feeling in our stomach subsiding for the moment.
The train stops and the harnesses release their locks, however ours stop when they hit our still joined hands. "Sorry," Diana mumbles as she lets go of my hand.
The harnesses raise completely and she gets out of her seat, steps out of the train, and toward the exit. I follow close behind.
"That was exhilarating," Diana says with a wide grin as she steps into the open clearing. "Sorry for grabbing your hand."
I wave away her concern. "Don't be," is all I say as I look up at the line in front of us. "How about a truce?" I offer. I watch as Diana's eyebrow raises in confusion. "Things between us are awkward, but today let's at least have a truce so we don't ruin the day." I offer Diana my hand.
She takes a moment to think over what I've offered. Without a word, she reaches across and shakes my hand. "Fine, truce," she says. "But I get to pick the next ride."
I don't even have time to nod before Diana is pulling me to the far end, toward the hanging roller coaster that has been a staple at this place for years. We quickly join the smaller line, a smile on both of our faces when I realize, maybe this was a good idea after all. I only hope PJ is having as much fun as Diana and I are.
Being stuck in a house with your ex-husband is rough. Remembering the fight that ended your marriage and made you move back to a hidden magical island is worse.
Read Back to You Chapter 8 Now : https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077571/8/Back-to-You
May 20 – 11 years ago. 20:13
Diana
The silence that fills the room is both welcome and a relief. The last forty eight hours have been eventful, but now that I am home, wrapped in one of the blankets Alfred gifted to me last Christmas, I want nothing more than to sleep for days.
The book that lays on my lap goes forgotten as I close my eyes and take a deep breath, curling into the small sofa in the room. I gently pat my pocket, making sure my phone is there, before I relax once more. Damian and Tim are out on patrol - they know to call me should they need help. Alfred is somewhere in the manor, tending to other matters. And Bruce? Bruce is out with Clark and Jonathon and the baby.
Yesterday at Penelope's birthday party, Clark had suggested taking the kids for the day to give Lois and I a night to ourselves. Bruce was all too willing to agree, knowing I had been having a difficult time these last few weeks. I had gotten sick, then the baby had, and I hadn't heard from my mother in a while. Being a first time mother to a growing baby was exhilarating, but exhausting. My only other experience with children had been with Tim and Damian, but both were old enough to take care of their own basic needs by the time I had met them. Penelope depended on me for everything. I was so grateful Bruce was so supportive though.
My phone beeps from my pocket, forcing my eyes to shoot open. When I pull it from my pocket and check the screen, I see a text from Lois.
L:You think we can persuade our husbands to make this a monthly thing?
I let out a chuckle and type out a response.
D: It's the least they can do.
I wait a few seconds, a smile already on my face when I hear my phone beep once more and Lois' response flashes across the screen.
L: Considering I probably still have bruises from Jon kicking me all hours of the night when I was pregnant, I think I can guilt Clark into a few more nights.
D: Sounds like a plan.
Lois responds with a thumbs up emoji. I place the phone on the arm of the sofa beside my head and curl back into the piece of furniture, closing my eyes, tempting myself with the thought of a well deserved nap. That temptation, however, is cut short when I hear someone walk into the room.
My eyes open and I see Bruce walk into the room. The diaper bag is strapped on his shoulder. In his arms is our sleeping daughter who, as of yesterday, is now one. I can't believe how fast time has flown, but it seems like yesterday I was sitting on this same sofa, my hand on the belly that kept her safe from the world, wondering who she would look like.
Bruce carefully sets Penelope into the small loveseat beside the sofa, making sure she is far enough away from the edge that she won't fall off in her sleep, before he steps back quietly. He places the diaper bag onto the ground beside the love seat's legs and lets out a tired sigh. When he's certain she's not going to wake, he turns to face me, bends down, and kisses the crown of my head.
"Hi," he greets. "How was your day?"
I stretch out my legs and sit up, giving Bruce the room to take a seat. When he sits I lean against him and pull the blanket closer to my body. "It was very relaxing," I finally answer. Bruce wraps an arm around my shoulders and holds me close, letting out a content sigh when my head falls to his chest. "Thank you."
He nods. "Of course," he says. "You've been doing so much these last few months, and then taking care of Penelope at night while I'm out. You deserve much more than one night to yourself."
He kisses the top of my head and I relax further into his chest. We sit in silence for a few moments, each basking in the comfort being here around each other brings. I thank the gods each and every morning for bringing Bruce into my life. Not only is he my husband and a wonderful father, he's my best friend.
"How was the day with Clark and Jon?" I ask. I watch as Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, his shoulders slumping as the exhaustion begins to hit him. I can see he's clenching his jaw, the beginnings of a headache starting to show through.
"It was good," he answers. He closes his eyes and leans his head back. "Jon is starting to show his powers and poor Clark is losing his marbles trying to keep up."
I let out a chuckle. Both Clark and I have powers, it was only a matter of time before one of our children began to show some kind of extraordinary abilities. Gods help us if my little Penelope develops them as well. She's already so much of a handful, stubborn like both Bruce and I, but incredibly smart. Although I might be a bit biased.
"Gods help us if Penelope develops powers."
Bruce lifts his head back and opens his eyes, terror hidden in his eyes at the thought. He glances over my shoulder at the love seat where the baby sleeps and shakes his head, hoping he will never have to deal with what Clark is currently going through. "And to think Clark wants another one."
I let out a chuckle and nod against Bruce's chest. It was one of the things Lois and I had talked about today. She had confided in me that as much as she loved her son, she was not sure she wanted another child. It was a conversation she and Clark still needed to have in depth, but I knew Clark would be happy with the family he had, regardless of how many children he and Lois ended up having.
"I think Lois is just happy with the one, though."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?" I ask.
"Would you want more kids?" he asks me carefully.
I pull away from Bruce's chest and look him in the eye. Bruce and I had discussed children only a handful of times, partially because he already had four sons, two of whom still lived at home. I thought Bruce would be content enough with the boys, and being an Amazon, I wasn't sure I could have kids. We had barely been married a few months when I discovered I was pregnant, and although Penelope had been a surprise, she was the best thing that had happened to me. She tied our family together.
From the moment she was born, Penelope had everyone wrapped around her finger. Even Dick and Jason would visit more than they had the previous year, wanting to make sure they spent time, in Jason's words "corrupting the little Wayne".
Having a baby was a wonderful thing, but much like Lois, I wasn't sure where I stood with trying for another. Bruce and I were so busy with the League. Wayne Enterprises was hitting some crucial mergings and the Themysciran Embassy was finally making headway. Adding another baby to the mix would be difficult.
"I love you, Bruce. And I love the boys, and Penelope. I would love to have more kids with you, but I'm so exhausted, and we're both so busy, I can't even think of another baby just yet."
Bruce nods and chuckles. "I completely agree," he says as he leans forward to place a kiss on my lips. "We can bring this up when this one isn't keeping us up at all hours of the night." I nod and kiss his lips once more. "I love you," he tells me, mumbling against my lips.
"I love you too," I whisper back.
The front doorbell rings throughout the manor forcing Bruce and I to pull away from each other. He glances toward the door to the great room. I look over my shoulder at the sleeping baby, watching with bated breath to see if the sound woke her. She shifts in her sleep and her eyes flutter open, before her lips part and she begins to whine, grumpiness settling in now that she's been woken - she gets that from her father.
Bruce is on his feet and out of the room before whomever our night visitor is can ring the doorbell again. I don't watch him leave. Instead I stand from the sofa, letting the blanket fall to the cushions Bruce and I had occupied, and take the few steps needed to reach her temporary bed.
Penelope lifts her head and looks around the room. When she sees me standing beside the loveseat, she sits up and raises her arms, her little voice repeating one of the four words she knows. "Mama," she says as she scoots dangerously close to the edge of the cushion.
"Woah there little one," I say as I scoop her up into my arms. I clutch her tightly in my arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she happily claps her hands on my cheeks, before I set her down on the hardwood floor.
"Dada?" she asks. Her little head scans the room, the black curls on her head bouncing as she looks around for her father.
"He'll be right back," I say. She moves to stand, pushing herself from the floor until she is upright. Her little knees wobble for a second before she steadies herself. When she's sure she won't fall, she takes a step toward the door, ready to find Bruce herself.
I watch with a smile on my face as Penelope takes a step, then another. She wobbles every now and then, her little legs still trying to get used to the task of keeping her upright. She takes one more step, however her legs have had enough, and she falls, landing on the hardwood floor with a small thump.
I reach down and pick her up into my arms, continuing to smile as she begins to chew on her hands. "That was wonderful, Penelope," I say in a soft voice. My hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, my fingers stroking the soft wisps of hair found there. I kiss the side of her head, my heart soaring when she lays her head gently on my shoulder and lets out a small sigh.
This little girl has stolen my heart far more than I could have ever imagined. It's such a gift to be her mother, and I couldn't imagine my life any other way.
At that moment Bruce walks into the room. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes shift back and forth, the way they do when he is lost in thought. Behind him is a face I know all too well, having spent countless nights under her study, training for a war my mother never hoped would come.
Antiope's eyes widen when she glances up and sees me. She follows Bruce into the room and stops in front of me. "Your highness," she says as she falls to one knee and bows her head.
"Antiope," I say, adjusting Penelope on my hip so she can look at our guest. Penelope claps when she sees Bruce come to stop beside me, his hand on my hip, nervous. He can sense something is wrong - we both can. In the years I've been here on Man's World, Antiope has visited only a handful of times, usually accompanied by Mother. But she's never made the journey alone.
Antiope looks up, her eyes meeting the toddler in my arms. "Princesses," she says, nodding toward me and my daughter. "I am sorry to intrude at this hour. But I bring news of Themyscira."
Penelope begins to fuss in my arms, struggling to get down onto the floor where Antiope stands from her bow of greeting. Bruce releases my hip and opens his arms, inviting the toddler to join him. Penelope accepts and leans toward Bruce, clapping her hands over his cheeks with an excited "Dada'' when he kisses her forehead.
I turn my attention back to Antiope who is watching Bruce with narrowed eyes. I may know everything about Bruce, but to the General who stands in front of me, he is still a stranger. She doesn't trust him. The feeling is mutual. It does not matter that I am married to Bruce. To the Amazons, he is still an outsider who keeps his secrets fairly guarded.
"Whatever news you have of Themyscira, you can say in front of my husband," I say, trying to clear the air. Mother was usually the one who kept the hostility with the Amazons at a minimum. The fact that she is absent sends a terrible feeling to my gut.
Antiope nods. "Yes, Princess," she says, bowing her head once more. She removes the helmet on her head, letting the water from tonight's downpour drip onto the rug she stands on, and lets out a sigh. "Your Mother has been missing for two weeks," she finally says. "We fear our Queen is dead."
The news hits me harder than I expected. There's a crushing weight on my chest and my knees buckle. What does she mean Mother has been missing? Why was I not told of this sooner? How can The Amazons assume she is dead. Mother is resilient. There must be another explanation.
Bruce's hand falls to the small of my back, bringing me out of my thoughts. I turn to my husband and give him a small nod, silently thanking him for pulling me out of the panic Antiope's news has given me. "What do you mean Mother is missing?" I ask. "Why was I not informed earlier?"
Antiope takes another breath. "Queen Hippolyta was on her way to visit you, your highness. She did not want an escort for this trip, so I stayed back and watched the island. When she did not return, we sent out a search party."
"What about the portal?" I ask.
Antiope shakes her head. "For days none of the Amazons could cross it. Today it gave way and I came straight here, but I fear the Queen is nowhere to be found. We can only assume the worst."
I turn to grab the shoes near the sofa, pulling them onto my feet. If my mother is out there, I intend to find her. After all, she went missing trying to visit me. "I will help in the search," I say. I turn to Bruce who only clutches Penelope close to his tense body. He knows something I don't. When I turn to Antiope, she is staring at me with sad eyes. "Antiope, we need to search for Mother," I say, trying to get the blonde woman to move. The sooner we find Mother, the better. She is not used to Man's World as I am.
The room is silent. Tension rises as Bruce stares at Antiope, who stares back at him with a ferocity I've seen only in a fight. Finally Bruce clears his throat and shakes his head. "You didn't come to search for Hippolyta," Bruce accuses. His eyes narrow at the woman across from him and his nostrils flare.
"No," Antiope confesses. She shifts her eyes from Bruce to me. "Diana, you are the rightful heir to the throne. And Themyscira needs a Queen now more than ever."
XXXXXXX
"Are you crazy?"
I turn to Bruce, my eyes narrowed as I stare at the man clutching his ribs. The dark circle under his eyes remind me why my decision is the right one, even if my heart is screaming that it is wrong. "I'm not crazy, Bruce," I say, my voice harsh. I watch as he growls and stands from the bed, his face twisting in pain as he places a hand on the nightstand, steadying his thrown balance.
"You want to go back to the island that hates men," he says. His voice tries to hide the pain, both physical and emotional, but I can see through his façade. "You do know I can't come with you, neither can any of the boys."
I say nothing as I toss another bag onto the edge of the bed and fill it with items I may need for the next few days. "Bruce, I don't know what to do," I confess. When Antiope told me Themyscira needed a new Queen and I was next in line for the throne, I nearly had a heart attack. I had a life here, with Bruce, and Alfred, the boys, and the League. I couldn't possibly leave them. But I was first and foremost an Amazon. I at least owed it to The Amazons to search for my mother or establish another Queen. I at least owed it to the island to make sure they were taken care of in Mother's absence.
Bruce watches as I grab a few items of clothing from the closet and walk back to the bed. "You appoint someone to be Queen until we can figure out something, together," he says. His hands grip my wrists, stopping me from placing anything in the bag. "You don't just leave your family."
I let out a sigh, trying not to let my emotions get to me. In the four days since Antiope came to deliver the news of Mother's disappearance, Bruce and I have been walking on eggshells, avoiding the conversation all together. I suppose he assumed I wouldn't even consider the possibility of at least trying to help my people. But I had a duty to the Amazons. I could not ignore them to fend for themselves.
"Bruce," I say, my voice softer. I fear if I speak any louder I might burst into the tears I have hidden away for the last few days. "They are also my family. And I have a duty to my people," I say. I watch as he shakes his head, his teeth gritting as the movement irritates his latest injury from galavanting through Gotham at night. "That duty outweighs my own happiness here."
I pull my wrists from Bruce's grip, ignoring the look of pain on his face as he backs up and leans against the dresser. "And what about my happiness?" he asks. "What about the boys? Alfred's?" I don't look at him as I zip up the bag, placing it beside the backpack on the floor.
Of course I've thought of all of them. It's the only thing I've been thinking of. But I can't let their feelings distract me from what I must do. It's the only choice, whether I like it or not.
When I don't answer Bruce lets out a frustrated sigh. "What about Penelope?" he asks. "Have you even thought of what it would mean leaving her to go back?"
That forces me to pause, the realization that another argument is ahead of us. If Bruce was anyone else, if Bruce didn't have a death wish every night, I would not worry about leaving her with the only family she's known since the day she was born. But if I have learned anything these last few years, it's the bruises that line his back, the stitches over his eyebrows, the bandages keeping his broken ribs in place, are not the first. Nor will they be the last.
Bruce is methodical. Bruce prepares for every fight he's in, but even he can't prepare for the unexpected. That realization was made all too real two nights ago. I can't leave her with someone who disregards his own health and wellbeing. I can't leave her with someone who very well may kill himself by morning tomorrow all in the name of saving Gotham. Bruce has little disregard for his life when it comes to his precious city.
I turn to glance at Bruce over my shoulder. His face softens as he realizes what my silence implies. "You don't intend on leaving her," he states. It's not a question. We both already know my answer.
I don't say anything. I don't need to.
"You're not taking my daughter from me," he says, his voice growing angry.
I say nothing as I stand to my feet and let out a sigh. This is hard enough without Bruce standing there, constantly reminding me of why I should stay. But I know what's right, what's needed. Without a word I step out of the room, hoping he won't follow me, fearing if he sees the tears falling down my cheeks he'll be able to convince me to stay.
XXXXXXX
May 20. Present Day. Wayne Manor. 08:53
I take another bite of the apple in my hand, my leg bouncing as the nerves continue to wreck my stomach. Last night was another night of restlessness. I'm starting to worry being back in Gotham has everything to do with my lack of sleep - perhaps it's the guilt. Either way, exhaustion weighs heavy on me and I have to remind myself I'm going because Penelope wants me to. No other reason.
"Seems someone is quite nervous."
I pause my apple eating mid chew and look at my kitchen companion. Alfred gives me a questioning glare as he pours both of us a hot cup of breakfast tea. I only nod my head as I continue to chew my bite of apple, eventually swallowing the piece of fruit. "Is it that obvious?" I ask, taking another bite from the large apple.
Alfred nods. "If you're not careful, I suspect your insistent bouncing is going to burn a hole right through the kitchen tile." He lets out a chuckle and places the kettle back on the stove. "What has you so tense, Ms. Diana," he asks. He places one of the cups of tea down in front of me and wipes down the counter where a few splashes of water have fallen.
I take another large bite of the apple in my hand, finishing off the piece of fruit. I thank Alfred for the tea and toss the core into the trash. Carefully lifting the cup to my lips, I take a small sip, the calming liquid bringing a sense of familiarity and peace. Alfred always sends Penelope home with a container of tea, a small note attached each and every time, but it never compares.
Moments like these, where it was just Alfred and I sharing the space and secrets, are what I miss the most. I never grew up with a father, but if I had, I would have loved him to be like Alfred. The man is so kind, so patient, and I can tell he loves Bruce and the boys as if they were his own flesh and blood. He's the one person I kept in contact with, but not nearly as much as I should have. Letters and notes back and forth don't do justice to a late night conversation filled with laughter and hugs.
"It's been a long, long time since I've ridden a roller coaster," I confess. When Bruce and I had first begun dating, I enjoyed the thrill of the amusement parks he would take me to. I was always the first to join the boys on a new ride, the adrenaline coursing through my body rivaled that of a good fight, only there were no bruises or cuts to clean after.
Alfred lets out a small chuckle. "Ah, yes," he says as he turns to grab his own cup of tea that has been steeping on the counter. "I do remember you and Master Bruce used to fancy the amusement parks."
I nod and take another sip from my cup. He raises an eyebrow and glances at me with a curious look over his teacup as he takes another sip. "Always too much for my old body," he says with a shrug. "Although I do believe it'll be easier on the stomach than this emotional rollercoaster you and Master Bruce seem to find yourselves currently in."
He keeps his teacup raised in an attempt to hide his wicked smile, but I know the man far better than he thinks. He's conspiring with Penelope, has been since the moment she was born. Alfred wants me back in Gotham nearly as much as my daughter does. I don't have the heart to tell him it's not going to happen.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean," I whisper as I take a sip of my tea, trying to tear my eyes from the Englishman.
Luckily the door to the kitchen opens and Clark steps into the room, followed by his son. Gods, I will never get over how old Jon is, nor how much he looks like his father. "Good morning," Clark says cheerily, greeting Alfred with a smile. He places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a small squeeze. It's a small gesture, but it conveys what he wants me to know. He forgives my long absence.
Yesterday, after helping in San Francisco, Clark and Wally sat me down and we talked. I told them of everything that had happened - of my mother's disappearance, of the Amazons needing a Queen. I told them how everyone's spirits had been crushed, and some of my sisters had begun to doubt Themyscira and its ability to keep them safe. It took a long time for the Amazons to come to terms with my mother being gone, even longer for me, but soon we found our way, and they all welcomed me to the throne with open arms.
They sat with open ears, accepting the answers to all their questions. They knew it was hard for me to leave the League, and even harder to leave Bruce, so they didn't push much on the topic of my estranged husband. It was a short talk, with Clark needing to go back to the farm, and me needing to get back to the manor for a proper shower, as the quick rinse of my face in one of the bathrooms of the Watchtower had done nothing to rid me of the smell of smoke.
We said our goodbyes and I had promised myself they needed to at least be offered the courtesy of a letter or two, as I had done with Alfred. I couldn't shut them out as I had the rest of the world.
"Ah, Mister Kent," Alfred greets, offering the older of the two men a smile. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Clark shrugs and glances at his son. "Just using the transporter in the cave," he says casually.
Alfred nods. "And young Mister Jonathan, good morning. Master Damian wanted me to let you know he would be in the garden with Master Tim and Miss Penelope."
Jon nods and thanks Alfred. He then turns to his father and nods, before he rushes out of the room.
"Let me know if you guys need anything," Clark says as he pushes the fake glasses back onto his face. "I'll be in Metropolis for the day." With that he walks out of the room, once again leaving Alfred and I to stare at each other in comfortable silence.
"That boy is the splitting image of his father," Alfred says.
I nod in agreement. I drink the last bit of tea left in my cup and cradle the cup, knowing if I put it down Alfred will snatch it up and clean it. I don't want to give the older man any more work than he already has. I can clean my own dishes.
Alfred eyes the cup in my hand, his mouth twisting into a smirk as his eyes meet mine. I only shake my head and hold on to the item, watching as he sips his tea in silence.
The kitchen door opens up once more, only it isn't Clark and Jon that step into the room, it is Bruce.
He strides into the room, his hand absentmindedly stroking his beard as he focuses on the shelf behind us. Something is on his mind.
"Good morning, Master Bruce," Alfred chimes. He watches as Bruce turns to face him, his face relaxing when he sees his oldest friend.
"Morning," Bruce says, his voice groggy. He's tired. He must've had a late night out in Gotham.
He turns to face me. His face tightens when he sees me sitting at the breakfast bar. "Tim, Damian, and Jon are heading out now. PJ wants to go with you and me," he says. I give him a nod, watching as he turns toward the refrigerator and opens the door. "Dick and Jason will meet us there."
Bruce closes the door to the refrigerator and places a bottle of water on the counter in front of me. He carefully wipes the condensation from the bottle that has lingered on his hand onto his jeans and opens one of the drawers, shuffles around, and pulls out a foil packet. "Here," is all he says when he hands me the small packet.
I accept the small packet, letting my fingers play with the rough edges. "What's this?" I ask, my eyebrow raised in confusion.
"You get motion sickness," is his short answer. "This'll keep your stomach calm."
I let out a small chuckle. "You know I can fly, right?" I ask. I keep myself in more motion than the average human.
Bruce shakes his head. "Yes, but doing too many loopty loops makes you want to throw up all that amusement park priced food I so graciously pay for." He watches as I shake my head and let out a sigh. He's not wrong. I always loved the roller coasters, but they didn't always love me. The fact that he still remembers this little detail mesmerizes me. "Unless that's changed and this is something I no longer know about you," he adds.
I watch as he flashes me a smirk and crosses his hands over his chest. Without a word I tear open the packet and pop the pill into my mouth before I grab the bottle of water. I quickly hop off the stool I sit on and walk out of the room, trying to ignore the smirk Alfred is flashing from behind his coffee mug. I hear Bruce chuckle as the door closes and I roll my eyes. This day is going to be a long one, and I don't know how it's going to feel spending it with Bruce, pretending we're a happy family. Hopefully I can get lost in the park and avoid him all together.
so my friend was like “Goal in life: write a wonder woman movie where diana comes out in under-armor gear and batman just hands her a hair tie from his utility belt and tells supes he might want to look away.” and I was like wow that sounds A+
PJ makes a discover that could jeopardize "the plan".
Read Back to You Chapter 7 now: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077571/7/Back-to-You
PJ
Dinner is interesting. I don't mean that in a 'Every member of my family is a superhero so we always have interesting, sometimes weird, stories to tell' sort of way. I mean it more in a 'Something happened between Mom and Dad in the kitchen and now they are flirting from across the table without speaking' sort of way.
When Dad had finally made it to the table, his face was red and he tried his hardest not to even look at Mom seated across from him. Mom, of course, only smirked and continued to stare at Jason as he spoke, although we all saw her eyes moving to Dad every other minute.
By the time we all had our plates full, Tim and Dick had a tally going of how many glances Mom and Dad stole thinking no one noticed. So far we are at seven - three from Mom, four from Dad.
"So, Diana," Tim says as he stabs a piece of chicken off his plate with his fork. "What's it like being back on Themyscira after all these years?"
Mom swallows the bite of food she has been slowly chewing for the few moments. She's still nervous about being here with everyone, I can see it in her face. It probably doesn't help that Damian is two seats away from her, giving her the worst stare down in history. And believe me, I would know. I've been on the receiving end of one of those stares a time or two.
"It's different," Mom says after a while. She raises her glass of water to her lips and takes a sip, trying to stall a few more moments, hoping they don't ask her anymore questions about the island. The look on Dad's face tells me exactly why. It's a sore subject.
Tim eats the chicken from his fork and nods, accepting Mom's answer. I don't know why he doesn't pressure her to explain more, but when he turns to look at Jason, I can't help but think they know something I don't. There's no way they don't have more questions for Mom after not seeing her for this long.
"What about you, Bruce," Tim says as he turns to Dad. "How's the company doing?"
Dad takes a sip from his drink and shrugs. "It's doing well," is all he says, before he places his cup back onto the table. His eyes quickly shift up to Mom before he turns to look at me. I only raise an eyebrow. Dad wasn't lying. Wayne Enterprises has been doing really good. And now that their tech department has finished the designs to create realistic holograms, I can only suspect business will boom even more. He should be really proud. Why isn't he bragging about it?
Jason finishes the food from his plate and wastes no time going for seconds. "Diana," he says, calling Mom's attention to him. He carefully places another piece of chicken on his plate, smothers it in the delicious sauce Alfred has made, and cuts it into pieces. "So does the Queen have any time for other activities?" he asks, his devilish smile obvious.
Mom blushes and my ears grow red from embarrassment. I don't need to know what Mom does when I'm not around.
"Lots of reading, training, keeping this one out of trouble." Mom points to me and everyone around the table starts to laugh. My face gets red and I sink into my chair. This was not how I planned this dinner to go.
"Yeah, yeah," Jason says. "But has the Queen had any time to find….well, a Queen?" He raises an eyebrow and looks off to the side, trying to decide if that was the right way to frame the question.
Again, my ears get red and hot even though I know Mom has not bothered with a relationship since leaving Dad. Then again, there's six months out of the year that I am not with her. Who knows what she could be hiding.
Mom lets out a laugh and shakes her head. I look over at Dad and notice Jason's question has him waiting more intently for Mom's answer than someone who didn't care would be. When Mom shakes her head and says, "No," I can see his shoulders relax. He's jealous, or at least he was at the thought of Mom dating someone new.
"I don't have time," she explains.
Dick raises an eyebrow, but then shakes his head, deciding the question he wanted answered is best left alone. I know what he's thinking though. He wants to know what Mom could possibly be busy with. I understand. When I was little I always wondered what Mom could have possibly been busy with on an island without visitors, where they were capable of caring for themselves. But the Amazons are feisty, and with feisty women, come problems. Mom handles those problems.
"Bruce had a girlfriend."
Everyone turns to Damian. It is the first words he has said since he's sat at the dinner table. There is a small smirk on his face and I know he's brought up Dad's ex-girlfriend for one reason. He wants Mom to know he's moved on; we all know that's not true though.
Dad hasn't dated anyone else since I was five, and even then you could see it whenever they were together. It was never right. April was a nice woman and had a cool job as a detective with the Gotham City Police Department, but she and Dad only dated for maybe three weeks. When they broke up, she left Gotham.
Jason and Tim begin to laugh at the mention of April. They did not like her. On more than one occasion they had called her a psycho. Dick only smirks and shakes his head. He obviously knows more about her than the other two.
I turn to look at Mom who has shifted in her chair. Her eyebrow is raised, interested in hearing about the woman her ex-husband has dated. "Just one?" she questions. Her voice is light and sounds like she is going to laugh, and I am really confused.
Dick shrugs. "April was….interesting," he explains. "But don't worry, Diana. Bruce never truly seemed interested." He gives Mom a wink. She responds with a shake of her head. She is desperate to make everyone think she doesn't care about what Dad does, but we all see through it.
"It was four dates," Dad says, trying to explain himself. Not that it matters. "Now, can we please stop focusing on me," he says, his eyes shifting to me. "I think we have much more embarrassing tales about the birthday girl."
Everyone turns to look at me and I sink lower into my chair. This was definitely not how I imagined the night going, and for once I am regretting having everyone over for dinner.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
21:17
Luckily my embarrassment dies down when Alfred brings out dessert. I eat my chocolate chip cookie quickly in silence, watching as everyone excuses themselves from the table and goes their separate ways. Dick and Jason say their goodbyes and promise to be back in the morning, bright and early for the amusement park. Tim decides to let out some steam by taking over patrol for Dad, joining Damian. Mom helps Alfred clear the table and disappears into the kitchen, wanting to help the man clean the growing pile of dishes. Dad walks off without saying anything. I try not to overthink it.
I step out of the shower and grab the towel hanging on the wall, quickly drying myself off, careful to avoid the burn on my shoulder. When I'm done I pull on my robe and tie it around my waist, before I wrap my hair in the towel to keep it away from my face. I walk out of the bathroom into my room and plop onto the edge of my bed, letting out a sigh.
Tonight's dinner didn't go as expected. I wanted to see the spark between Mom and Dad, but somehow I became the focus. All the embarrassing stories of me made me want to disappear, but at least it got Mom and Dad laughing together. Even if it was at my expense.
The burn on my shoulder begins to sting and I know I should visit Alfred for another bandage. I sit up from my bed and dress in the pajamas I threw on the top of my mattress before I jumped in the shower. When I am done, I sprint out of my room and into the dimly lit hallway in search of Alfred.
I walk down the stairs, landing on the bottom with my bare feet, listening for any sign that anyone else is out and about. Damian and Tim should still be out on patrol. Dad will be down in the cave, working his second job until my brothers get back. Alfred will either be finishing up cleaning or getting ready for bed - now that he's older he likes his sleep a lot more than waiting for Dad to come home every morning. And Mom….well I don't know what Mom could be doing, but I don't see or hear her around.
When I am sure no one else is around, I take a step toward the hall that'll lead me toward the library, knowing it is where Alfred spends the last hour before he settles for bed. It was the one room of the house, beside the kitchen, where he and Mom would sit together, laughing at stories of Dad as a kid, sharing secrets. It is also the room Alfred and I have spent hours away from everyone else. It was there he had taught me about Dad and the work he did in Gotham, with the League. It was there he had told me about how Mom and Dad had worked together for years before they fell in love. It was in the library Alfred had snuck the first of many photos of Mom and Dad together to me, telling me the fond memories he had when the family was whole. Unfortunately, it was also in that room where Alfred refused to tell me what happened between Mom and Dad, no matter how many times I had asked.
I don't understand why he tries to change the topic every time I ask. It's not like I don't know they aren't together. Hello, I live in two totally different worlds for half the year….of course I know they aren't together. But I want to know why. I want to know what happened to them. I want to know if Mom left on her own, or if Dad told her to leave. I thought getting them in the same room would give me some clue to the answer, but it's only made things more confusing. Dad, as much as he tries to avoid admitting it, likes having Mom around. His shoulders aren't so tense, he smiles more. He always has that goofy smile on his face when he thinks no one is looking. He's totally in love with her.
Mom's a bit harder to read. I spend more time alone with Mom on the island, but she rarely talks about Dad. Even when she does, her face stays the same. I don't know how she's been feeling the last day. Hopefully it's the same as Dad.
The sound of shuffling behind a door breaks my focus. I stop walking toward the library and turn, noticing the door to Dad's study is cracked open. A light shines behind, filling the hall with a little more light than normal. Dad must be upstairs instead of down in the cave then. I wonder why.
I sneak toward the door, watching through the crack. Dad sits behind his desk, his eyes focused on the open folder on his desk. He reads through the stack of papers in the folder. He twirls a pen in his hand as his eyes scan the papers, stopping every so often to scribble on the papers.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I knock on the study door before I can stop myself. Dad looks up at the cracked door and places the pen down on his desk. "Come in," he calls.
I push the door open and flash him a smile. "Hi," I say, giving him a small wave.
Dad only gives me a small smile in return. He closes the folder on his desk and shoves it a few inches away. "PJ," he says, "what's up?"
I shrug. "How are you doing?" I ask.
Dad shrugs and leans back in his chair. "I'm fine, PJ," he answers.
I nod and walk up to Dad's desk, leaning against the edge as Dad continues to watch me. "So, I'm sorry about yesterday," I say. "I should have told you Mom was coming earlier."
In all fairness, I should have told Dad the moment Antiope dropped me off in November. But I was worried he'd do anything to keep from seeing her. In my mind, it was easiest to spring it on him than to let him know what I had been planning with Alfred for almost a year.
Dad shrugs. He crosses his arms over his chest and bounces in his chair as he thinks of what to say. "I would have liked to know sooner," he says after a moment. "But I will admit, it's nice seeing your mother."
I watch as Dad's face relaxes. Something tells me he isn't as angry as I thought he would be, but still something is off. "Can I ask you a question?" Dad pushes his chair back from the desk and stands. He leans on the cabinet against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. He gives me a small nod. "What happened with you and Mom?"
Dad takes a deep breath and leans harder into the cabinet. He's quiet as he shifts against the cabinet and raises his shoulders. "I know Alfred has told you," he says.
I let out a sigh. Alfred has talked about Mom many times. He's told me of when Mom first came and joined the League, how Dad fell in love with her the moment he met her. He's told me about their relationship, the ups and the downs, about their perfect wedding. He's told me how they balanced each other; Mom kept Dad from falling too far into the dark and he kept her grounded when she had expectations set too high. They were the perfect partners. So no one really understood what happened to break them up - including Alfred. Or so he says.
"Not really," I answer truthfully. "He hasn't told me anything. He says that's a conversation for you two to have."
Dad lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. "It's a long story, one I don't think you're old enough to understand," he answers. He stands up straight and pulls his vibrating phone from his pocket and checks the screen to see who is calling him so late. He looks up at me and he must see something on my face that he doesn't like, because he lets his phone vibrate a few seconds longer than he normally would.
"It's in the past, PJ. There's no point going over it again."
Dad turns and walks toward the large bookshelf in the corner of the room as he answers the phone. I let out a sigh of anger. I need to know what happened in order to fix it. I need to fix it. I watch as Dad rearranges the bookshelf, talking quietly to whoever is on the other end. Whoever it is, it seems like a very intense conversation.
I look around Dad's study. Instantly my eyes settle on the portrait that hangs on the wall, the one of Grandmother and Grandfather and Dad. He's just a kid in it, right before they died, but he loves it.
Four years ago Dad sat me in this very room and told me the importance of that framed picture on the wall. That was also the night he told me he was The Batman.
My eyes move from the portrait to the desk, right to the folder that Dad was working out of before I came into the room. Looking up to make sure Dad is still turned away and on the phone, I reach over and grab the folder. I know I shouldn't be snooping, but I'm too curious for my own good. I quickly open the folder and read the title on the front page.
Petition for the Dissolution of Marriage
What's this? I don't know what 'dissolution' means, but as I flip through the papers on the desk I see another word I know: Divorce. These are divorce papers. But why? Dad's not married.
I look through the pages, my eyes widening when I see Mom's name on the last few pages. These are divorce papers for Mom and Dad. I thought they were already divorced? They're still married? What the heck!
"Divorce?!" I shout, my voice coming out louder than it should.
Dad turns to face me. His eyes grow wide when he sees I have the folder open in my hands. "I'll have to call you back," he whispers into the phone, before he ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket. "PJ-"
"You and Mom aren't already divorced?" I ask, cutting him off.
Dad walks over and plucks the folder out of my hand. He shoves it into the top drawer of his desk and closes the drawer. "No," he says, "your mother and aren't divorced."
I cross my arms over my chest and huff. "You two have been married this whole time?" Dad nods. "So then why divorce now?"
Dad shrugs. "Your mom and I haven't had a relationship for over a decade. Our marriage ended and she went back to the island. We just never filed them." I don't buy it. I know he's hiding something. "Now that she's back, we just need to sign everything and move on."
"But….but you said it was nice to see Mom," I say, trying to reason with him.
Dad nods again. "It was. But things are complicated and it's time your mother and I put all this behind us."
Put all what behind them? Their marriage? Their lives together? He does realize I'm a part of that life together, whether he wants to admit it, right? Or am I just a reminder of the woman he lost? Does he even want me here? Or is he happy when I leave for six months, giving him time to move on.
My mind is moving a million miles a minute. This is not supposed to happen. This is not part of the plan. I turn and run out of the room, ignoring Dad as he calls my name, slamming the door shut behind me. I run down the hall and up the stairs, away from Dad and his study, stopping only when I slam into someone. I look up and see Alfred.
"Miss Penelope," he says. He places a hand on my unburned shoulder and pulls me into a hug. "What is the matter?"
I feel something on my top lip. I don't even know I'm crying until Alfred reaches down and wipes the tears from my face with his thumb. "It's Dad," I answer. I take a deep breath and wipe the rest of the tears off my face with the back of my hand. "Alfred, please tell me what happened with my parents."
Alfred stares down at me. He lets out a small sigh but nods. "Okay," he says. He gently nudges my shoulder and says, "I'll tell you everything I know."
We walk down the hall to my bedroom. Once inside, Alfred quickly bandages my shoulder and then tucks me into my bed. "It was the night after your first birthday," he begins as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, settling in to tell me everything that happened between my parents.
If there's one thing I've learned from the past ten years, it's that Jack O'Dwyer can make an hour-long meeting feel like an eternity. Jack's a good man, he's an even more brilliant employee, but he rambles on and on, and today I am finding it harder to keep my attention on him than I usually do. This evening he's talking about the latest account we've opened, but my mind has blocked him out since the start of this meeting sixty-two minutes ago.
I momentarily close my eyes as Jack continues to talk, wanting this slow torture to end. I need to get home soon, get myself ready to face Diana again, but Jack doesn't seem to be showing any signs this meeting will be over anytime soon, much to the dismay of everyone else seated around the table.
Someone kicks my shin from underneath the table and my heart skips a beat. My eyes open and scan the room. In the chair to my right sits Lucas, Luke, Fox. He is Lucius Fox's eldest son. He's been my business manager for the last two years, ever since Lucius decided it was time to finally retire. For the most part, Luke has been an amazing business manager, even for his age. He's firm, he's smart, and he gets me out of trouble - even if it means kicking me during a meeting a time or two.
Luke narrows his eyes and whispers, "Late night?" He knows the secret his father and a handful of others knew. He knows I'm The Batman.
I shake my head and stare straight at Jack. Truth is, Diana being here has been more difficult than I ever imagined. For years I had imagined what it would be like to see Diana after all this time apart. I imagined what I would say to her, how I would act. I would let her know how much she had destroyed me when she left, how she had done the one thing I had always been afraid of: leaving. But the minute I laid eyes on that gorgeous face, glanced into those beautiful eyes, every negative thought I had disappeared.
I only had to get through a few hours with her here and there, keep up appearances so that PJ would be happy. In a few days she would be gone, and I could move on with my life. But then I had to go and invite her to stay in the manor. Now I was going to be seeing her every morning and night until she left for Themyscira. I wasn't going to last. Anytime she was near I wanted to punch something or kiss her - neither was a viable option. I needed to get the closure everyone deserved and walk away once and for all.
Luke raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair. I watch as Jack takes a seat and looks around the room. "Any questions?" he asks. When no one answers, he closes his portfolio and crosses his hands on top. "Well then, I'll hand it to you, Mr. Wayne."
I nod and clear my throat. "Thank you, Jack. I believe that'll be all. We'll come back in a few days and discuss our options," I say, trying not to be too specific. I wasn't paying attention to half of what Jack was saying to fully comprehend what this meeting was actually about. Hopefully Luke took a lot of notes.
Everyone nods and stands, gathers their items, and walks out of the room. I stand from my chair, watching as Luke does likewise, and nod to Jack, silently thanking him for leading the meeting last minute. Jack nods back to me and walks out of the meeting room.
"What's got you even more distracted than usual?" Luke asks when we're the only two that remain in the meeting room.
I grab my phone from the table, glance at the screen, noticing the three messages from PJ. She's been sending me random emojis all day, making me regret getting her that cell phone a few weeks ago. I open the last message. All it contains is a heart emoji followed by the letter 'U'. My lips curl into a small smile as I reply with a thumbs up and shove the phone into my right pocket.
"It's nothing," I say, stepping past him to walk out of the room. Luke follows me out of the room and down the hall, stepping into the waiting elevator. "I'm assuming you'll fill me in on everything I missed?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
Luke only nods as the elevator doors close. We ride up to the fifth floor in silence. Luke is focused on the phone in his left hand, his fingers typing quickly. A moment later my phone beeps in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the notification on the top of the screen, a smirk on my face when I see the email from Luke. "Thank you," I say as the doors to the elevator open and we step out.
Luke nods. "Of course," he says.
We continue to walk in step until we reach my office. Inside is Lucius Fox, making himself comfortable in one of the chairs beside the desk. I've come to realize that even though Lucius has retired, he hasn't really left. He's around from time to time, making sure his son is acclimating to his new title. He also occasionally comes by to give new ideas and thoughts on gadgets for The Batman. However, I just saw him two nights ago, so I have no idea why he has decided to grace us with his presence tonight.
"Lucius," I say, acknowledging him as I walk to my desk and take a seat in the large chair.
Luke takes a seat beside his father, still clutching the phone in his left hand. "Pops," he greets with a small nod. Lucius gives his son a nod before he focuses back on me. I can feel the disappointment radiating off him, as if he wants to scold me for not telling him something of importance. Luke can feel it too, but the fact that his shoulders aren't tense means he knows it's not directed toward him. "What's going on?"
Lucius lays back and relaxes. He's toying with me - I guess the man needs something to do in his time now that he's retired. "There's something Bruce hasn't told us," he says casually.
I raise an eyebrow. "And what's that," I ask. I'm not going to admit to anything just because I fear he already knows. This is all a tactic. One that made him the most brilliant business managers in the country, but a tactic nonetheless.
Lucius smirks. "I hear a certain Amazon is back in town."
My eyebrows furrow as I watch Luke turn to his father, his own eyebrows raised in surprise. "Diana?" Luke asks, putting his phone down for the first time since the end of the meeting. "It all makes sense."
I roll my eyes and spin my chair so that I am facing my desktop computer instead of the two men. I don't really want to talk about Diana. I've been avoiding her for a reason.
"So is she back for good?" Lucius asks. He was there to witness the fall out of Diana leaving not only once, but the second time as well. He knows there will be a bigger blow out when she leaves for a third time.
"Is she back for good," Lucius repeats after a few moments.
I turn to face him and let out a sigh of defeat. I don't know what her plan is. I don't know anything about the woman I married. That's a lie, I know she's beautiful, and smart, so willing to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of duty. I know she has such a kind heart and can be just as sassy and snarky as I am, if not more. But we've been absent from each others' lives for a decade. Who knows if everything I knew about Diana is still the same.
"I don't know," I finally answer with a shrug. "I don't know what Diana's plan is, or why she's here now."
Luke narrows his eyes. He's skeptical of Diana, always has been. He was fresh out of college when Diana left, never really getting the chance to get to know her the way everyone else had. "I thought Diana never left the island." He knew Antiope was the one who came to pick up PJ every year while Diana stayed on the island, taking care of the Amazons who had stolen her from my family.
"She doesn't," I respond as I lean back in my chair. "But she apparently has a meeting at the embassy."
Lucius rubs his chin in thought. "Could be about the random energy surges," he thinks aloud.
Luke and I raise our eyebrows in unison, both confused by Lucius' statement. "What energy surges?" I ask, my interest peaking.
"Oh, there have been random waves of energy that have been coming from the Atlantic Ocean. Earthquakes, tsunamis, nothing too terribly big, but scientists think something bigger's building. I heard a rumor that the U.S. Government thinks it's the Amazons preparing to attack, but if Diana is here to meet with the embassy, something tells me it's not a rumor."
I continue to stare at Lucius. Why hadn't I heard of any of this? Sure, I had seen the news the last few months, but it was nothing too out of the ordinary. I wonder why Diana hadn't said anything. I wonder if this has any part in why she left to begin with.
"You think the Amazons are preparing for an attack?" Luke asks. He watches as his father turns on the television in the corner of the office and shrugs. "Why?"
"I'm not an expert on Amazons," Lucius replies, before he flashes me a grin.
I roll my eyes. I am about to answer Lucius' statement with a sarcastic remark, when I notice the television screen. There is a reporter standing in front of a building, or what's left of a building, the surrounding area on fire. She talks into the microphone in her hands, her eyes never leaving the camera as the headline "Earthquake in San Francisco: Building Collapse" scrolls across the bottom of the screen.
"Turn it up," I tell Lucius. He nods and points the remote to the television, turning up the volume as the camera pans away from the reporter and to the rubble, focusing on Superman, The Flash, and - Diana?
"Yes, it appears the woman in question is none other than Wonder Woman, the Amazon princess who disappeared years ago." The headline on the bottom of the screen changes to 'Wonder Woman Saves Woman From Fire, minutes before building collapse' as an old photo of Diana during one of the League's first fights, flashes in the right corner of the screen.
"As you recall, Wonder Woman, known as Diana Wayne, was married to billionaire CEO Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Enterprises." The photo of Diana in her uniform fades and is replaced by a picture of Diana and I. She is dressed in a white dress, the smile on her face even brighter than the ring on her finger. Her arms are wrapped around my neck, messing with the collar of my black tuxedo, as my lips kiss her cheek.
I clench my jaw as I look at the photo. I can see Lucius and Luke turn to face me, their eyebrows narrowing as I continue to stare at the photo of Diana and I displayed. "Well then," Lucius says as he turns back to the television. I thought I was going to be able to escape the awkwardness of Diana and I living in the same place for a few days, but if everyone keeps reminding me that Diana is back, and what we used to have, it's going to be much harder than I thought.
I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath, trying to gain my composure. The woman I have avoided for years is now plastered all over the news, bringing back the ghost long thought gone . When I open my eyes, I see the photo of Diana and is now gone and the headline has changed to 'Wonder Woman Back?', as the reporter turns to call after Diana.
"Wonder Woman!" she calls, glancing at the camera with a smile when she notices Diana is walking toward her and the other reporters. When Diana is within earshot all the reporters begin to fire off questions at the same time, each of them wanting to get the latest scoop for what's probably going to be the biggest news story for the next week.
Diana stares at the reporters as they continue to ask questions, her eyes shifting from one person to the next, trying to find a way to give them the answers they want. Finally the reporter we've been watching all along, turns to Diana and asks, "Wonder Woman, does this mean you and Bruce Wayne are back together?"
Lucius turns to face me, his eyebrow raised in an unspoken question. He doesn't need to speak the words for me to know what answer he seeks. Are Diana and I back together? No. The answer to that is a firm no.
I watch as Diana tenses at the question. She squeezes her hands together as she bites the inside of her cheek. She's nervous, unsure of herself. I don't know why. Unless….. is Diana unsure of that answer? She seemed pretty sure when she walked out over a decade ago.
Diana carefully wipes her hands on her pant legs. She's still dressed in the jeans and shirt I saw her in this morning, forgoing any of her previous suits she has worn in the past.
Before Diana can answer, Wally steps in front of her. His chest hits the microphone that one of the reporters has thrusted toward Diana, and says, "Come on guys, give her some space. She's back, she saved a bunch of people, she helped SFPD and SFFD." He places his hand on her back and leads her away from the reporters.
Lucius turns off the television and leans back once more. "So," he begins, placing the remote on the edge of the desk. "Are you and Diana back together?" he asks. He raises an eyebrow again.
I shake my head. "No," I say.
Luke does nothing to hide the doubt on his face. He crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a sigh.
"But she's spending time with you and living in your house, yes?"
I glare at Luke and sigh. "Yes." Much like his father, Luke doesn't hold back his criticism. "Are you two even divorced?" he asks
He doesn't need to ask the question to know the answer. He is my business manager, has seen me in the Batsuit many times, and has come to my rescue a time or two. He knows nearly everything about my life, including my current marital status. "No," I respond, my face straight as I stare at the younger man. "No, we're not."
Lucius lets out a small chuckle. "She doesn't know this, does she?" he asks.
Again I answer, "No." When Diana left, I didn't know if I would ever see her again. When she brought PJ back to me, I didn't want to risk my newly gained time with my daughter by throwing the word divorce out there. I guess it was because I still had some hope that she would come to her senses and come back. But I was delusional. If anything has taught me this, it was the decade long silence between Diana and I.
I look up at the clock above the door and let out a sigh. 18:10. I'm supposed to be home for dinner in twenty minutes. PJ is going to kill me if I'm late. Alfred will help her hide my body. "Well, this has been fun," I say sarcastically as I stand from my desk, "but I promised my daughter I'd be home for dinner."
Lucius nods and rises from his seat. Luke copies his father's actions. They both know how feisty PJ is. They both know if I'm not home she will grill me more than any foe of The Batman. The three of us walk out of my office and toward the elevators. We say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. It doesn't take me long to get to my car. I'm on the road back to the manor in a matter of minutes, trying to revel in the last moments of silence I'll get for the next few hours. Tim, Jason, and Dick are still in town. They always find a way to make dinner loud. Filled with laughter, but loud. It doesn't help that PJ only eggs them on.
The drive to the manor is short, shorter than usual. I pull up to the manor and turn off the car, knowing I'll move it to the garage before I retire for the night. I let myself let out a steady breath as I walk through the side door, walking through the small corridor until I find myself surrounded by the bright lights that lead to the kitchen.
The further I walk down the corridor, down into the manor that has been owned by my family for generations, the louder things become. Whispers turn to words and laughter grows louder as I step through the swinging door that separates the old service corridor and the kitchen. Inside the large room, PJ and Tim sit in the corner, playing a card game on the table between them, laughing at something that must have been said before I stepped inside the room.
PJ looks up from the cards in her hands and gives me a smile and a wave. "Hi Dad," she says, her voice sweet and innocent. I can't help the smile on my face as I give her a small nod, acknowledging her. I can't believe my little girl is this old. Time is a thief, and I want nothing more than to rewind it and steal back all the memories I've missed out on. I missed her first steps, her first words, both happening when I was busy protecting Gotham. It pains me still to this day.
"Hi Birthday Girl," I say when I make my way to her. I watch as everyone turns to me, their faces each painted with a different expression. PJ is ecstatic to see I've come home in time for dinner. I may have broken multiple traffic laws to get here on time, but no one got hurt and I'm willing to pay the fines. I can't miss out on any more moments with her.
Tim sits across from her, his eyes narrowed as he focuses on the card in his hands. "Hey, Bruce," he greets, glancing over his cards just enough to see me, before he takes a deep breath. I've seen this look before. He's losing whatever game they are playing, and it is killing him. Had it been one of the other boys on the other end of the table, we would be teetering on the edge of a physical fight, but with PJ he's different. All of the boys are different with PJ - correction, all except Damian. He avoids her any chance he can get.
I turn away from the two and find Alfred behind the stove, stirring a pot that has steam wisping above it. The smell of whatever he is cooking radiates throughout the room and leaves my stomach crying with hunger. I suddenly remember the last thing I ate was the small slice of pizza after the movie and I instantly regret having let my mind be preoccupied by the woman standing across from Alfred.
Her hair is up in a messy bun, although the way stray strands of hair have fallen and frame her face suggest she spent much longer on her hairstyle than she really did. But that's just Diana. She always looks wonderful without trying - it's why it was always so hard to say no to her when we were together.
Diana glances my way and offers me a cordial smile. She's still nervous being here, still worried I'm going to snap, tell her to leave, let my anger show through - I'm not entirely sure I won't. Her ripped jeans and dirty shirt have been replaced by another pair of jeans and thin flannel shirt. All the buttons have been left open except the last two, showing the dark tank top she wears underneath. Alfred must have given Diana some of the clothes she had left behind, because I know for a fact I had stared at that shirt still hanging in our shared closet after she had left.
"What are they playing?" I ask quietly when I reach the two, my head turning to glance over my shoulder at PJ and Tim, watching with a smile as Tim smacks the table with his hand and tosses his cards into the pile between them.
Diana glances at the two and chuckles. "Texas hold 'em," she answers quietly. "Tim's already lost two hundred dollars."
I can't help but smile at her answer. I know I shouldn't condone my twelve year old daughter gambling, but there's nothing I can do to stop the pride that swells my chest.
"Oh golly," Alfred says as he turns off the stove, stirring the pot once more. "I wonder who on earth taught her that game."
"Jason," Diana and I answer in unison. We glance up at each other, our eyes meeting. My heart skips a beat when she gives me another small smile and nods. It seems being this far apart hasn't destroyed every ounce of connection I had with this woman - only about ninety-five percent of it.
"I see," is all Alfred says. I can feel his eyes on me, burning a hole into the side of my head. When I turn to the Englishman he narrows his eyes, silently threatening me. "Well it is nearly time for dinner." He turns to Tim and PJ and lifts the pot by the handles. "Okay you two, time to wash up."
Tim pushes his chair back and stands from the table, scrunching his face at PJ as he walks out of the room. PJ wastes no time following him out. Alfred only stares our way and raises an eyebrow. "Dinner will be ready soon," he says. "Best wash up and be ready to have a nice family meal." With that he walks out of the room and into the dinning room, pulling the door closed with his foot, leaving me and Diana alone for the third time in less than twenty four hours.
Diana lets out a small sigh as she leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. She says nothing as I pull off my jacket and lay it over the back of one of the stools at the breakfast bar.
"I saw you on the news," I say, breaking the growing tension.
She shifts on her feet, letting her arm lean against the breakfast bar, and nods. "Did you?" she asks coyly.
I nod. My hand reaches up and pulls to loosen my tie, pulling it over my head and onto my jacket, before I unbutton the top button of my shirt. "Does this mean Wonder Woman is back?" I ask, repeating one of the many questions she was asked in San Francisco.
Diana only lets out another sigh. She bites her lip as she tries to think of the perfect response and I realize she's doing exactly what I would. She has always been a skilled fighter, coming up with solutions many of us could never fathom, but being Queen has definitely taught her how to persuade an army with just her words.
The small thought in the back of my mind that thinks maybe Lucius was right about an impending Amazon attack hits me in the gut. But I can't let speculation determine how I deal with Diana. We have a child together - I used to love her. I can't let rumors fuel my actions. Until I have concrete evidence the rumors are true, I need to keep these thoughts to myself.
"I went to see Clark and Lois," she says. I can see it in her eyes. She's seen the small smile on my face falter but she doesn't say anything. I give Diana a nod. She continues. "He got the distress call from the Watchtower and asked me to come along. I figured I'd help." She doesn't answer the question, which causes me to raise my eyebrow. It doesn't matter. I'll have my answer in a few days.
"I see," I say, my head tilting as I watch her lips twitch into a small smirk. "Why didn't Clark call me? I could've helped."
Diana shrugs. "I don't know," she answers. "But it was nice being on a mission. Reminded me of the old days."
"I miss being on missions with you," I confess, unable to stop myself before the words fall from my lips.
'What the hell, Bruce' I think to myself. 'You gotta focus.' Diana has been the only person to ever make me lose my guard and now that she's back I've tried my hardest not to want to fall into the same routine we had for years. In the last twenty four hours I've struggled with trying to maintain friendly because we still have to coparent, not wanting to show her how angry I was with her leaving, and abandoning all caution and letting her back into my life without hesitation. She's the only person in the universe who could make me this irrational.
Diana chuckles and nods. "As have I," she confesses. "And if we're being honest, I still worry about you during patrol," she says, lowering her voice just in case any of the kids decide they want to eavesdrop.
I only smile. It's nice to know she still cares enough to worry. At one point this would've made me feel terrible. But it's a two way street, and if Diana can leave to go to Themyscira in the name of duty, I can do the same for Gotham.
"I'm a big boy," I say with a smirk, striding toward the stove. "I can take care of myself." I cautiously grab the spoon Alfred had been using to stir one of the dishes for tonight, carefully letting my finger swipe some of the sauce left on the utensil.
"As I recall, I used to have to take care of you when we were married," Diana responds, watching as I place my finger in my mouth. The sauce is as delicious as always and my stomach does another loud grumble, reminding me I need food. Diana only tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, as if my stomach rumbling has only proven her point.
"We still are," I say casually, shoveling another finger full of sauce into my mouth.
"And why is that?" she asks. She doesn't seem mad, which is good, but I can tell she is confused. "Wouldn't that have been easier?"
I shrug. "Of course it would have been," I say. "But you left. Then when you came back, you were gone again before I could ask you to sign the divorce papers, and by that point, I just gave up on the whole idea."
Diana lifts a finger to her lips, carefully stroking them; she does this when deep in thought. "You didn't need me to sign them," she says.
She's right. I could have gone through with the divorce without her signing the papers. It would have been a longer process, a longer, more public than necessary process, but I could have got it done. We could've been divorced years ago. We could've moved past this when PJ was still too young to even know of The Batman.
"I know."
She lets out a sigh. Her eyes fall to the floor as she takes a deep breath, shakes her head, and looks back up. "Were you holding out hope I would come back?" she asks in a whisper.
For the first time since she stepped foot in the manor I think about what having Diana back would mean. It would've meant my family was whole. It would've meant that my kids would've had two loving parents every day of the year. It would've meant my best friend was there by my side through the nights I spent hooked up to an IV, too bloodied and bruised after a fight to move. It would've meant I would have never been broken by the one person I trusted more than anything.
"Yes," I whisper back. I clear my throat as she nods. Her eyes become glossy and she looks away from me for a moment.
"Is," she begins, taking a moment to clear her throat before she continues, "is that why you still have a photo from our wedding in your desk?"
"How did you-"
"I'm the one who put it in that frame, Bruce," she reminds me. "I knew what it was the second I saw it in your hand."
I only shake my head. "I could have changed the photo," I say, challenging her. She only stares at me, her face unchanged. "It's a good photo." I shrug.
Diana laughs and nods. "It is a good photo," she says as she drops her arms. She walks toward me, continuing past the invisible boundary where friends lie, until she is so close I can smell the shampoo she used an hour ago.
My heart beats loudly in my chest as I continue to watch her, my eyes following every movement, every muscle twitch. Without a word she reaches toward me and lets her thumb swipe the corner of my mouth. When she pulls her hand away I notice some of the sauce I had shoved into my mouth on her finger.
She says nothing as she gives me a small smile and carefully wipes her hand on the towel beside the stove. With that she walks out of the kitchen, leaving me silent, trying to wonder what the hell just happened.
When I've regained composure I let out an exasperated sigh, throwing my head back as I realize this woman is still throwing around mixed signals. One minute she's walking on eggshells, the next she's playing coy with me. I don't know if I'm going to last a few more days without wanting to strangle or kiss her, and to be frank, I don't know which one is worse.
The Waynes weren't the only family Diana left behind. What happens when she finally faces Clark and Lois after more than a decade? Read Back to You Chapter 5 now!
The hot air that blows through the cornfield and through the trees makes it hard to breathe, and for the life of me, I can't understand why anyone would want to live here. It's hot. It's humid. It's worse than the fiercest of summers in Gotham. But as I walk up the driveway that leads to the small farm house, I notice the serenity a place like this could offer. It's quiet, it's peaceful, and to Clark, it reminds him of his childhood. It's the same for me on the island.
After lunch with Penelope, the two of us had gone back to the manor. She had gone upstairs to nap and I had taken the opportunity to get out of the manor and clear my head. I flew around, no clear destination in mind. I just traveled until I landed in a spot I knew from late nights huddled on the couch, watching movies as Lois gave me pregnancy tips. To my surprise, however, the apartment I had come to love as a second home hadn't been occupied by Clark and Lois Kent, but rather by a couple of college roommates, shocked to see an Amazon knocking on their front door on a random afternoon.
It had taken some quick investigating, but I found out they had moved back to Smallville after the death of Clark's mother, taking over the farm with the help of their son, Jonathan. So I flew as quickly as I could to Smallville, wanting, needing, to see the people I had missed dearly.
The gravel that lines the driveway crunches under my boots as I make my way to the house. When I step on the first wooden step that leads to the large porch, it creaks under my foot. It breaks me out of the trance I am in, and I begin to worry I'm making a big mistake. What if they don't want to see me? What if, much like Damian, they hate me for leaving without a word?
The creaking increases when I step onto the next step, then onto the wooden porch, and I let out a sigh of relief when it doesn't give way. Maybe I should just turn around and leave. Bruce can call Clark and ask about Jonathan coming tomorrow. After all, neither of them know I'm even here. No harm no foul, right? I am about to turn and rush off the porch when the front door is yanked open.
"You were supposed to be home twenty minutes ago Mister-"
Lois stops when she sees me standing in front of her. Her eyes go wide and her mouth stands agape as she stares at me in shock. This must be a big deal as I have managed to shut up the woman who has talked Lex Luthor into submission on more than one occasion. "Diana?" she asks, taking a step toward me.
All I can do is nod. I watch as she shoves the phone in her left hand into the back pocket of her jeans and squeals. "Oh my God, Diana!" she says as she hops onto the porch and pulls me into a hug.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I wrap my arms around the woman who was like a sister to me. The only woman who had no superpowers that I trusted. If only I had trusted her and had told her the truth before I had left. "Lois," I whisper, trying not to cry as she hugs me tight.
Lois pulls away and smiles at me. Her eyes are welled with tears and I feel ashamed that I have caused them. "You son of a bitch," Lois says, trying to sound angry as she punches my arm.
I raise an eyebrow and rub my shoulder. "Ow," I say in shock.
Lois wipes a few tears that have fallen from her cheek and shakes her head. "It serves you right, leaving like that," she says. "But my god it's so good to see you." She grabs my hand and yanks me into the house, pulling me into the living room.
I've been to the Kent Farm on more than one occasion. Ma Kent was always a wonderful host, cooking alongside Alfred for Thanksgivings and treating us all like her children on Christmas. She was a good woman.
Inside the room looks the same as the last time I saw it, nearly twelve years ago, right before Penelope turned one. The couch is newer, the rugs are different, and there are different photos along the wall, but it still feels as homey as ever.
Lois pushes me onto the couch and sits beside me, turning to face me. She's not going to let me go until I answer her questions. I knew this was going to happen, and it's only fair.
"So, spill," she says. "What happened?"
I shrug, unsure of where to start. I've told no one of everything that has happened between Bruce and I. Even Antiope only knows bits and pieces. The other Amazons know only that I am their Queen and Penelope is their princess. They don't know the messy details of what had to happen to get us to that point.
"What did Bruce tell you?" I ask. I need to know what has already been said. I don't want Bruce to sound like the bad guy, because in all reality, he's not solely to blame for what happened. I take most of the responsibility for that.
"Bruce hasn't told us anything," Lois answers. "When you left, he shut down for weeks. Hell, Clark and Dick had to pick up the slack around Gotham because he couldn't do anything. The man was depressed."
"I see," I say with a nod.
"Did he cheat on you?" Lois asks rather bluntly. I only stare at her with wide eyes and shake my head. "Did-did you cheat on him?" she asks, this time a bit more skeptical.
Once again I shake my head. "Neither of us cheated," I answer. "It was nothing like that."
Lois breathes a sigh of relief. I can see she's glad nothing like that was the reason I left, but now I can see she's even more confused than before. "Then what happened?" she asks.
I take a deep breath, holding it for a few moments, before I let it out. "My mother went missing," I say. "Everyone fears she's dead." Lois gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. She knows the relationship I had with my mother. It was rocky, especially when I left the island, even more so when I had been banished for bringing men to the island, but we had been working on it for years. By the time Bruce and I had gotten married, and Penelope was born, my mother was a constant in my life. Losing her had been devastating in its own right, but I never knew that I would have to lose her and Bruce in the same week.
"So you went to go look for your mother?" Lois asks.
"Yes and no. I went to look for her, but Themyscira needed a Queen, and it was my duty to the Amazons to lead them in their time of grief. I had no intention of staying. I was going to go just to find my mother, and if need be appoint another Queen until we could find her, but then Bruce and I started having problems."
"What kind of problems?" she asks. "I always thought you two were perfect."
I let out a nervous laugh. "You know Bruce, he's stubborn, and I'm stubborn, and we both fight so passionately that sometimes we don't know when to stop. He didn't understand why I needed to go back to Themyscira, and the more he pushed me, the more I wanted to get away. He couldn't understand what I owed the Amazons."
Lois nods and places a hand on my knee. I can see the skepticism in her eyes, but like Bruce, she doesn't understand what it's like to be pulled between what you know is right in your heart, and what your brain wants to tell you what's right. It was never an easy decision, and had he not shut me down more than once, I would have made it with Bruce instead of venturing out on my own.
"What made you change your mind? About Penelope," Lois asks. She wants to know why I kept my daughter away from Bruce for a year, why I even bothered bringing her back to Gotham to get to know the man I had run from.
I give her another shrug. "I realized it wasn't her fault her parents were so stubborn. I remembered the feelings of uncertainty, the questions I had about myself as I grew up with only my mother. She needed a father just as much as she needed a mother. I couldn't deny her that."
"And Bruce is so grateful you gave him the opportunity to get to know her, and we're all happy you let her come back into our lives. But we all missed you too.
My eyes meet the floor and I let out a sigh. "I know," I whisper. Lois is right, I've missed them too, but they don't understand the sacrifices I've made. The sacrifices I've needed to make. First and foremost, I am an Amazon and my duty comes to my people. I cannot let anything distract me from that, not even Bruce. Walking away from him, both times, were the hardest things I had ever done in my life.
Lois opens her mouth to speak, stopping only when the front door opens and the room is filled with the sound of boisterous laughter. I look up just in time to see two men step into the room, laughing, holding their sides as they try to contain their giggles.
Clark is the first one I notice, his wide shoulders nearly shielding the other person from my view. He's wearing a blue shirt and dark jeans, his eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. He looks up and sees me sitting on the couch and his smile fades as he stares at me in disbelief. "Diana?" he questions.
I stand from my seat on the couch and nod. "Hi Clark," is all I can get out before he rushes over to where I stand and envelops me in a tight embrace. It feels like home. Clark has always been quick to forgive - first with Shayera, now with me. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. My eyes well with another round of tears as I wrap my arms around him and return the hug.
We stay that way for a few moments, before I glance up at the man staring at us and pull away, wiping my eyes with the heel of my palm. Clark says nothing else as he glances over at Lois who gives him a small nod, letting him know she'll fill him in later. I love that the two of them can speak without muttering a word. It was something Bruce and I used to do, although I fear we are too out of sync to even attempt it - as if he'd even want to.
Clark turns to the younger man and introduces me. "Jon, this is Diana." He turns to me. "Prince? Wayne?" He's unclear what surname I am currently using, but it does not matter. On the island, none of that matters.
"Diana," I answer. Neither of those last names feel right to me anymore. I am no longer the person I used to be when I used either of them.
I look up at the younger man, my lips curling into a smile. Jonathan is the splitting image of his father, even down to the fake glasses. "Jon, hi," I say, "you probably don't remember me."
Jon squints at me and gives me a grin. "There's a photo of us hanging by the stairs," he says, using his thumb to point at the staircase behind him. "I remember you used to show me all the cool swords and stuff."
I smile at him and nod, trying to avoid the wide eyes from Lois. It was by accident, as he had come to visit the manor while I was decorating the library, but I was careful. Besides, I was pregnant at the time, so I couldn't have gotten into much trouble with him.
Jon chuckles as he sees his mother's expression. "Chill, Mom," he says. "It was fun, and I didn't get hurt."
"Uh huh," is all Lois says as she crosses her arms over her body. She scoots over to the next couch cushion, giving Clark space to sit down, as she narrows her eyes at me. She knows I would never let her son get hurt, even if he wasn't as strong as his father, but it's the mother instinct in her. I would do the same for any of the boys and Penelope, none of which have powers to help themselves.
Jon kisses his mother's cheek and watches as she relaxes, before he gives me a small wave. "Well, it's nice to meet you again, Diana," he says. "But I have chores and homework."
I nod. I watch as he makes his way to the staircase before I remember one of the reasons I had come all this way. "Oh, by the way, Penelope wants to go to the amusement park tomorrow and wants to know if you want to come."
Jon looks at Lois and Clark, who both nod, and smiles widely. "Oh absolutely!" he exclaims. "Thanks for the invitation. I'll be there tomorrow morning."
He turns to run up the stairs, waving goodbye to me once more, before speeding up and into his room. "Make sure you get all your chores done first," Clark calls after him, before he turns to face me. "So, PJ invited you all to the amusement park? You and Bruce….going together?"
I glare at Clark and shake my head. "She wanted to go, so we're going," I state. "And she was adamant I ask your son." I turn to Lois. "Does my daughter have a crush on your son? Your adult son?"
Lois laughs and shakes her head. "No. But he does have a crush on Damian," she confesses. Clark laughs and nods as Lois says, "But don't tell him you know. We're not even supposed to know." She lifts her finger to her mouth and pretends to shush.
I nod and chuckle, but I can't help the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jonathan is my godson. I was there the day he was born. Bruce and I put together his first birthday party. I was the one who would baby sit when Clark and Lois needed a night to themselves. The fact that I don't know this about him makes me realize I have missed out on so much of their lives. Who knows what else I've missed out on.
Clark opens his mouth to say something, but stops and places a hand on his ear. He's getting a message on his comlink. He nods and turns to Lois, plants a kiss on her lips, and tells her he'll be back soon, before he looks at me. "Distress call on the Watchtower," he says. "Want to come?"
I shake my head. The Watchtower is the last place I should be. Actually, Gotham, in the manor specifically, is the last place I should be. The Watchtower is a close second. "I don't think I can face everyone," I say. I am still in the first stage of making amends. Talking to Bruce and the boys was one thing. Staying up late last night crying with Alfred was one thing. Coming to Smallville to talk to Clark and Lois was one thing. Seeing everyone on the Watchtower is a completely different thing.
Clark shakes his head and waves away my concern. "Shayera and Jon are no longer here," he says, "they left about two years after you left. Long story." I raise an eyebrow.
"Together?" I ask. Clark nods and I become even more confused. Shayera and Jon left together? When I went back to Themyscira, Jon was still dating Vixen and Shayera was….well she was still trying to grasp her mind around the fact that Bruce had met her son in the future.
"Shocking, right?" I nod. "Dinah and Oliver are retired now. They had a baby and decided to get out of the game."
"Dinah had a baby?"
Lois chuckles as she nods. "And he's the cutest little thing. He's a little under five now, but boy is he a little troublemaker."
"Wally and John knew you wouldn't leave unless you had a good reason to," Clark begins, pulling his glasses from his face. "And they're more forgiving than you think."
I let out a sigh and drop my head. He rushes out of the room, leaving Lois and I to stare at each other, rushing back dressed in his signature blue and red costume, his cape flowing behind him. His costume hasn't changed since I've last seen him. Leave it to Clark to keep up with the nostalgia. "Plus, I could use the help."
I let out another sigh and nod, knowing he won't take no for an answer. Besides, I have a few hours to spare before Penelope expects me back for dinner; an emergency on the Watchtower seems like a decent enough reason to get out of an awkward dinner with Bruce. "Fine, Clark," I say. "I'll help you."
Clark nods and flashes a wide smile. "I'll be home soon," he says to Lois, who only nods and gives him a small wave goodbye, before he steps next to me and touches the comlink in his ear. "J'onn, I have two for transport."
The two of us are enveloped in a white light and suddenly the all too familiar feeling in my stomach returns as we're transported into the Watchtower's transportation bay. I shake my head after we arrive, placing a hand on my stomach. There used to be a time when the feeling of being transported wouldn't bother me at all. Now I can't shake the feeling that has settled in my chest. It's been far too long.
"Superman!" Clark turns beside me, facing the owner of the voice. I follow suit and face the control panel. The room is different, updated. I can't imagine the amount of money Bruce has put into The Watchtower throughout the years. "Diana?"
J'onn stares at me in surprise. His green lips curl into a small smile as he phases through the controls and down to where Clark and I stand. "Hi, J'onn," I respond sheepishly, watching as he becomes solid when he reaches the two of us.
"It's nice to see you," he says. I can see the internal struggle on his face. He wants to tap into my mind, figure out where I've been all these years, but he promised long ago to not intrude on our minds unless specifically asked.
"You too," I say, placing my hand gently on his forearm.
Clark places a hand on my shoulder and steps forward. "Diana is here to help. What's going on?"
J'onn nods and points to the large monitor in the middle of the many smaller screens. "Earthquakes along the San Andreas fault line have caused a building collapse in San Francisco. The Flash is already there starting evacuations with first responders."
Clark nods. "You want to change first?" he asks me, taking a glance down at the jeans and tshirt I'm wearing.
I know he's right. This is not what I should be wearing if I'm going to help with Superman and The Flash on a mission - I should not be helping anyway - but I can't bring myself to even think of putting anything from my heroic past back on. "I think we should get going," I say, shaking my head slightly, not wanting him to question me further.
Clark nods and turns back to J'onn. "Two for transport," he says. "It's nice to have you back," he says as the air around him begins to turn to static, the lights around him turning bright as he begins to phase out of view. Moments later the lights around me begin to get brighter and I get that queasy unsettling feeling back in the pit of my stomach. My eyes close by instinct as I feel my body get weightless.
My eyes open when I feel the sheer force of gravity hit me in the gut. I don't understand how I was able to do this daily for years with no issues. The sound of air rushing past me fills my ears and I look up just in time to see a blur of red rush past me.
Wally stops, his feet sliding against the pavement, a trail of rubble sliding in the wind he has created. His head whips my way and his jaw becomes slack. "No way," he says, more to himself than anyone around as he continues to stare at me. "Is it really you?"
I nod at Wally and give him a smile, my hand offering a small wave to the man who had become like a younger brother to me. "It's me," I say nervously. "I'm here."
Wally rushes up and wraps his arms around me, locking me in a tight hug. I hug him back, the smile on my face growing as I realize the worry I had that he would be angry with me was for nothing. "I can't believe it!"
"I know," I say. Something crashes in the background, the sound of glass shattering against the ground. It forces the two of us to look toward the building that is barely standing straight, its foundation crumbling by the minute. "And while it's nice to see you, we should probably save this for after."
Wally nods and drops his arms, rushing toward a woman who has stumbled out of the rubble down the street. He picks her up into his arms and runs down the street and out of harm's way. I turn on my heel and run toward the building, hopping over the cracked and broken pieces of the road, sliding along the pavement. I silently curse as I watch the heel of my boot grind against the rough street, mentally kicking myself for at least not grabbing a pair of my old boots. I will have to toss these as soon as I get back to the manor.
"Help!"
I scan the area, my ears perking up when I hear someone's desperate cries. In front of me, one of the buildings is on fire, smoke billowing out from every open window. I am about to focus my attention on the building behind me when I hear that desperate voice again.
"Please! Someone, help me!"
I look up and notice something poking out from one of the fourteenth floor windows. A rush of air moves the smoke just enough for me to see the terrified face of a woman unable to escape the flames and smoke. She waves frantically, crying as she tries to get the attention of the firefighters, who start to retreat, thinking they've rescued everyone, wanting to get away from the building before its foundation gives way like the others.
I run toward the building, ignoring the heat that fills the air the closer I get to the building. I take another large step, jumping over a few cars that have been smashed with falling debris, before I fly up and toward the building. My eyes are locked on the woman leaning out of the window. Her face is covered in soot, only cleared by the tears that continue to stream down her cheeks.
"Help! Please!" She calls once more. She begins to cough on the smoke as it becomes more dense, the flames engulfing more of the building by the second.
"There's someone still up there," I hear from the ground.
"We can't risk it," another person says.
I glance over my shoulder and watch as the firefighters stare in shock. Their faces are covered in dirt and soot, the sweat on their brow dripping down the side of their faces. A few of them look on in terror, some look down in defeat as they realized they haven't saved everyone.
I turn back to the building and fly the rest of the way toward it, pushing myself harder than I ever have. I'm nearly at the building, flying higher toward the fourteenth floor. I watch as the woman starts waving a piece of fabric out the window, her throat choking on the smoke too much to yell for help. She leans further out of the window, trying to let the green piece of clothing get away from the smoke, however she doesn't realize she has overextended, and falls out of the window.
Everyone gasps as they watch her fall. She lets go of the green piece of clothing, letting it blow away from her as she waves her arms in an attempt to fly up and away. I swoop down and grab the hem of her shirt, momentarily pausing her descent. She stops a few feet before she hits the pavement, her legs hovering over the heated pavement.
She looks up, her eyes meeting mine, and breathes a sigh of relief, before she cries even harder. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice raspy from all the smoke.
I nod and continue to fly, adjusting her in my arms until she is firmly planted in both my arms. I rush her to the edge of the perimeter the fire department has set up, gently landing beside an open ambulance. I gently place her on an empty stretcher and look up at the EMTs. They both stare at me, wide eyed, mouths agape. "She took in a lot of smoke," I say.
Both men nod, snapping out of their temporary confusion, and begin to work on the woman laying in front of them. One of the EMTs, the older of the two based on the white hair that covers his head, places a mask over the woman's face and begins the flow of oxygen. He turns to his partner and nods once.
They move in unison and push the stretcher to the back of the ambulance. The older EMT stuffs the tank of oxygen onto the stretcher beside the woman, making sure it won't roll off as they shove her into the back of the vehicle.
I turn back to the building when I hear the low rumble of concrete and steel shifting. I watch as the building the woman had been in a few seconds prior falls to the ground, a large cloud of debris filled smoke rushing down the streets inside the perimeter. I move to fly back to the area, stopping only when I feel a hand on my arm. I glance over my shoulder and notice the woman on the stretcher staring at me, her eyes still welled with tears as she keeps her hand on my arm.
Her hand shakes as she moves to the mask over her face. She pulls it from her mouth and whispers, "Thank you, Wonder Woman," before she falls back onto the stretcher. The EMTs slide the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. The older EMT climbs into the back of the vehicle and shuts the door, as his younger partner goes to the driver's seat and drives away, flipping the sirens on as they rush to the nearest hospital.
I take a deep breath and let out a sigh. Being called Wonder Woman was strange, but it brought a familiar sense of peace I hadn't expected.
I quickly snap back to reality and fly back toward the other buildings that have been hit by the earthquake, knowing the job is far from over.
It takes a little under three hours to get everything under control, enough for Clark, Wally, and myself to feel comfortable leaving everything else to local authorities. We talk to the police and firefighters, making sure they feel confident none of the other buildings have been compromised enough to fall, before we make our way out of the perimeter. I try to avoid the line of reporters that have been stationed along the perimeter San Francisco PD has set up since the first aftershock hit the city. I already know photos of my return have been circulating the internet, and the video of me catching that woman, who I now know is Grace Benton, a marketing intern on her second day, has been playing every hour on every news station in the city. I can only imagine who else has seen it.
"Diana," I hear from behind me. Wally rushes up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. His outfit is streaked with dark soot and I can see the sweat on his face. I can only imagine how I look, with my singed shirt and torn jeans. "It was so nice having you back," he says. He gives me a tired smile.
I smile back and try to stifle a yawn. "It was nice to be back," I say back. We make our way toward the edge of the perimeter, ducking under the police tape.
It isn't long before the two of us are bombarded with reporters and photographers, shoving their cameras in our faces. "Wonder Woman," one of them calls, "where have you been?"
"Wonder Woman," another says, "how long have you been back?"
"Wonder Woman, are you planning on staying this time?"
"Wonder Woman, does this mean you and Bruce Wayne are back together?"
I take a deep breath and glance at Wally. I don't have any answers to these. I don't know if I'm staying. I don't know how to explain where I've been, and I definitely don't know how to answer that last question. If I had even the slightest idea, I would have been able to sleep just fine last night. I wouldn't be walking through the manor on eggshells.
Wally steps in front of me, his chest hitting the microphone that was thrusted toward my face during that last question. "Come on guys, give her some space," he says. "She's back, she saved a bunch of people, she helped SFPD and SFFD."
He places his hand on my back and leads me away from the reporters. He glances over his shoulder to make sure no one is following us, before he lets out a sigh and drops his arms. "Thank you," I say. "I just didn't expect to be bombarded like that."
Wally nods, reaches over to the table that has snacks and waters set up for the first responders, and grabs a granola bar. He unwraps it and takes a bite, chewing quickly. "You know," he says as he swallows his bite. "If you got some time, there's an iced mocha on The Watchtower with your name on it." He shoves the rest of the granola bar into his mouth and gives me a wide smile.
My lips curl into a smile and I nod. "I'd like that," I say. "I'd really like that."
Read Back to You CH 4 now: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077571/4/Back-to-You
PJ
I continue to run down the dark corridor. My lungs feel like they are on fire as I try to reach the voice that has been calling to me. For weeks I've been hearing this voice, hearing the sound of a woman in pain. I don't know who she is, or how she knows my name, but it's a mystery I need to figure out before I go crazy.
The fire that burns along the walls looks angry. The flames reach the ceiling, but nothing looks like it's burning. It's almost like I'm inside the middle of a volcano that hasn't erupted.
"Penelope!"
There's the voice again, louder than the last time. I run out of the hall. My brain hurts when I see the snow covering the ground. A minute ago I could've sworn I was in the middle of a heated volcano, but now it looks like Gotham on Christmas night. It's very confusing.
"Hello?" I call out. "Is anyone out there?"
The wind picks up, pulling and pushing snow all around me, blinding me for the moment. It's only for a moment, but I am still in a new and scary place. When the wind ends and the snow falls back to the ground, I notice I am not alone.
A man stands a few feet away, his hands on his hips as he stares at me. His dark curly hair falls past his shoulders, falling in between the horns on his shoulders' armor. His eyes narrow as he strokes the dark pointed goatee on his face. His lips curl into an evil smile and a chill runs down my back, and it's not because of the snow. Something about this man seems familiar, like I should know who he is, but I can't put my finger on it.
The mysterious man takes a step toward me, then another, and another. He is only a few feet from me when I make the smart decision to turn and run. The man continues to walk toward me, each of his steps equaling three of mine. It'll be no time at all before he catches me, and I don't want to know what he'll do when he gets his hands on me.
I try to run faster, breathing so hard you can see it in the cold air. I take a chance and look back over my shoulder, my eyes widening when I see the man stop walking toward me. I stop, confused, and watch as he takes a deep breath, before he opens his mouth and exhales. A ball of fire flies from his mouth toward me.
I turn back and run as fast as my legs will take me. I can feel the heat of the fireball coming closer and closer, burning my skin.
I jump up from my bed and fall to the floor, which hurts my shoulder more than I thought. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and take a deep breath, getting up from the floor as I yawn and wipe a hand down my face. These dreams have been getting way too intense for my liking.
I slowly stand from my spot on the floor and walk toward my dresser, stopping at the long mirror by the window. I turn and notice something on my shoulder. Taking a closer step to the mirror, I take another look and see the red spot on my shoulder. It stings and I realize it's the same spot I would have been hit by the fireball in my dream.
"No way," I mumble, looking back at my bed. Something strange is definitely happening.
I walk back to my bed and grab the shining object near my pillow. It's the locket I found on Themyscira. I must have fallen asleep trying to open it again. I've had this thing for over seven months and still can't figure out how to get it opened. I try to pry it open it once more, fiddling with the small lock on the side, but again it doesn't open. Maybe it's busted. I'll have to sneak one of the hammers from the garage and bust it open later tonight. Until then, I have more work to do today.
I toss the locket into the drawer on my nightstand and quickly go to my dresser. Opening the bottom drawer I grab a pair of jeans, pull them out, and put them on. Opening the middle drawer, I pull out a thin tank top and switch it out for my pajama shirt, tossing the large t-shirt stolen from one of my brothers on my bed, before I walk to the closet and grab a thin sweater from the first hanger I see. When I glance over my shoulder, I look at the small clock on my nightstand. 07:10. Alfred will be up and getting ready to head downstairs so I need to get to his room before everyone else gets up.
I quickly rush out of the room and down the hall, turning the corner once, stopping at the last door on the left. I gently knock on the closed door. I only have to wait a few moments before it opens and Alfred steps into the hall, greeting me with a smile.
"Miss Penelope," he says, "an early greeting from the birthday girl."
I flash him a smile. "I wanted the present you promised," I joke, winking at him.
Alfred chuckles and nods. "I see, I see."
"I actually needed your knowledge in first aid," I say, turning my shoulder toward him so he can see the burn.
"Miss Penelope!" he exclaims, grabbing my arm and pulling me into his room. "What on earth did you do?"
I take a seat on the small stool I have spent many nights on, talking through the night, getting stories from Alfred of my parents. I watch as Alfred rushes off into his conjoined bathroom, pulling his jacket off and carefully laying it on the bed, before he gently rolls up his sleeves. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Alfred," I say when he comes back.
In his arms he carries a kit he's made throughout the years, his own supply of bandages and antiseptic from countless nights having to tend to my father and brothers. "Last week I gave your father stitches after he fought a man who travels through mirrors. Not to mention your mother is the Queen of a race of warriors on an island hidden to the world. I'm sure nothing you can say will stump me at this point." He places everything down on a tray and pulls it close to me.
"You got me there," I say as he walks back into the bathroom. I hear the sink turn on as he washes his hands, before he walks back into the room wearing a pair of white gloves. "I was having a dream, only it wasn't a dream," I explain. "There was this guy who could breathe fire, and I was running away from him, and I woke up with this. Like he was able to hurt me inside the dream.
Alfred nods as he steps beside me and begins to clean my shoulder. The cold water against my shoulder startles me, but it soothes my skin, which I'm happy for. "I see," Alfred says. He gently pats my shoulder dry. "And your powers?" he asks. "I'm assuming you still haven't told either of your parents that you have them?"
I shake my head, grateful he cannot see the blush spreading over my cheeks. Dad has made it very clear that he doesn't want me in the family business, at least the one that takes up most of their nights. Mom has never said it to my face, but I have overheard her tell Antiope a time or two that she was grateful I didn't have powers. She doesn't want me to have that responsibility. Alfred is the only one that knows I've inherited much more than my looks from Mom.
"That's one secret I would like to keep a bit longer," I say. "Besides, they have enough to worry about."
"Ah yes," Alfred says as he grabs a packet of burn cream and tears off the corner. "The plan." He gently spreads some of the cream on my shoulder. "I feel quite awful not being truthful with your mother."
He bandages my shoulder and I let out a sigh. "If she didn't want to come, she wouldn't have. You know Mom, she's stubborn."
Alfred laughs as he finishes the bandage. "Soon it won't matter. You saw that look Dad had when she walked in the room."
Alfred steps beside me and pulls off the gloves, tossing them into the trash before he fixes his sleeves. "You're all set," he says, fixing his face, forcing the frown to disappear. He picks his jacket up from the bed and pulls it on, making sure to fix the buttons before he turns to face me. His face, much more wrinkled than in the photos I've seen of Mom and Dad's wedding, still brightens up whenever Mom is mentioned. He loves her. Which is why I knew he was the perfect person to help me get Mom off the island and back to Gotham.
"Now, I do believe I have to get some breakfast started. After all, it is someone's birthday." He steps toward the small desk near the window and opens the top drawer, pulling a box out from inside. "Happy Birthday, Miss Penelope," he says as he hands me the box, a smile on his face.
I quickly open the box, my lips curling into a smile when I see the small book inside. I gently pull the book out, flipping through the first few pages. More photos to add to my collection. Alfred knows I love having these memories frozen in time. "Thank you," I say, putting the book back into the box and carefully closing the lid.
"You're welcome, Miss Penelope," he says.
He watches as I stand and carefully pull the sweater in my hands over my tank top. I walk out of the room, thanking Alfred once more, and walk down the hall into my room. Inside I place the box in my hands under the bed, scooting it closer to the wall so no one else will know it's there.
XXXXXXX
"How's your breakfast?"
Mom looks up from her nearly empty plate and gives Alfred a smile. "Delicious as always," she says to him as she places her fork on the plate and picks up her piece of toast. "I've truly missed your cooking."
Mom takes a bite of the toast and smiles once more. Alfred gives her a smile back. "I'm glad, Miss Diana," he says. He fills her empty glass with more orange juice and turns to me. "It's nice to have someone who truly appreciates a good meal."
Mom laughs as Alfred turns to me and gives me a smirk. I stick my tongue out at Alfred. He does the same and picks up my empty plate, taking it to the sink. Mom finishes the last of her toast and turns to me. "So what are your plans for today?" she asks.
I give her a shrug. She nods, her ponytail bouncing as she moves her head. She rubs her hands on her dark jeans and fixes her green shirt before she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I can see she's spent another night up and worrying. Her eyes are tired, which makes the small wrinkles around her eyes even more visible.
"I usually spend the day with Dad," I explain. "He usually takes the morning off until Antiope comes."
Mom nods and opens her eyes. "I see." She takes a drink from her glass and sets it back down on the table, glancing up at Alfred when the doorbell rings throughout the house. "Well if you have some time, maybe we can go to lunch or something?" she asks.
I nod. "I think I can make that work," I say with a wink. We both watch as Alfred walks out of the room at the sound of the doorbell ringing again. "I'm really happy you're here, though," I tell her, turning to face her. "I've missed you."
Mom gives me a big smile. "I've missed you too," she says. She pats my knee and moves a piece of my black hair back behind my ear.
"I wish we could all be together every year," I say. I watch as she sighs and shakes her head.
"I know, Penelope," she says. "But I don't think-"
"HAPPY BIRTH-DAY!"
The both of us turn to the kitchen door and see Tim standing there, a bag over his shoulder, a wrapped gift in his hand. My lips curl into a wide smile. Mom lets out a sigh of relief. Tim's entrance may have saved her this time, but I will be bringing it up again later.
"Tim!" I say, jumping from my stool and rushing to the door. I jump into his arms and give him a giant hug.
He hugs me back and says, "Sorry I couldn't make it last night."
I pull back from Tim and raise an eyebrow. "Trouble with the Titans?" I ask.
Tim waves off my question. Like Dad, he doesn't like to get me too involved in his alter ego's lifestyle. "Just trouble," he says with a shrug. He glances up and freezes when he sees Mom standing where she had been sitting seconds prior, leaning against the breakfast bar in silence. "Diana?" he asks.
Mom nods and gives him a small smile. She's worried about how he's going to react to seeing her. "Hi Tim," she says quietly.
"Are you back?" Tim asks, rushing up to Mom. He gives her a small hug and she returns it, the breath she's been holding coming out quietly.
"No, just here for a few days," she answers. Tim looks up at her and nods. It's almost like they're able to talk to each other silently, understanding what the silent look on each other's faces mean. "But I hear you're in San Francisco now?"
Tim nods. "Yeah. I love it," he says. Mom nods and leans back against the breakfast bar. "It's a long story that we'll have to discuss over coffee or something." Her arms cross over her chest as she watches Tim shrug. She gives him a small nod and exhales, glad to know he doesn't hate her as much as Damian seems to. That's one less person she has to be concerned about.
"I'd like that," Mom says to Tim.
He nods, giving her a small smile, before he turns to me. "Happy Birthday, PJ," he says as he hands me the wrapped gift, giving Mom a small glance from the corner of his eye. He doesn't think I see him, so I stay quiet as I rip open the paper and the box and pull out the device wrapped in bubble wrap.
I yank off the bubble wrap and let it fall to the floor, ignoring the look on Alfred's face as he rolls his eyes at yet another mess I've made. Tim's gift makes me smile as my fingers run along the edges. "You didn't!" I say, jumping up and down excitedly.
Tim only nods. "I figured you could use some technology on that primitive island," he says, turning to Mom. "No offense."
Mom only smiles. "None taken."
"I remember how you would steal my old Gameboy when you were little, and it would keep you quiet for hours."
"As I recall," Alfred chimes in, "you and Master Damian once used that little device to keep Miss Penelope quiet during a marathon of Star Wars."
Mom lets out a chuckle. Tim blushes and puts a finger to his lips, telling Alfred to be quiet. "Anyway," he says, turning to me. "I got you a few solar chargers and extra games." He digs into the duffle bag around his shoulder and pulls out another small bag, handing it to me. "We can get you some more games next time you're in town." In another six months is what he really means.
The two of us turn to Mom, who continues to stare at Tim, a smile on her lips. "Thank you, Tim," I say, giving him another small hug. "I'm going to put this upstairs," I say as I rush out of the kitchen.
I make my way to my room, putting the Gameboy on the bed as I reach under the bed and pull the suitcase I arrived with out from underneath. I carefully open the top and place the Gameboy as well as the other accessories into the suitcase, shoving it beside the set of custom arrowheads Jason bought from Roy, and the books Dick bought after telling him I was tired of reading nothing but ancient laws and history. The clothes Damian gifted me are neatly folded beside the books, cushioning the photo album Alfred gifted me this morning. I quickly close the suitcase and shove it back under my bed, before I rush back out of the room and down to the kitchen, stopping when I see Dad about to walk in.
"Morning," I say.
Dad looks over his shoulder and gives me a small smile. "Morning," he says. "Happy Birthday."
I give Dad a small nod and rush back into the kitchen, leaving the door open for him to follow. Inside Mom and Tim are talking, their voices coming down to a whisper before stopping all together as I walk up to the two. Tim gives Mom a nod and lets out a small sigh, before he looks up at Dad, watching as he walks into the room.
"Mornin' Bruce," he says.
Dad nods and tries not to yawn. He was out late last night, I can see it in his face. "Morning," is all he says as he walks further into the room. Alfred hands him a cup of coffee and Dad thanks him, taking a sip of the dark liquid.
Dad runs a hand through his thick hair as he shifts his eyes from Tim to Mom. He stares at her longer than necessary, looking her up and down, before he looks at me, his cheeks turning pink when he realizes he's been caught.
"You still want to go to the movies?" Dad asks me as he takes another sip of his coffee.
I nod. The biggest blockbuster of the Summer came out last weekend and Dad's been promising to take me for the last few days. He gives a small nod and looks over at Mom, his eyebrow raising as he decides whether he wants to be nice and invite her, or be selfish and take me alone. "Diana?" he finally says, asking the question with just her name.
Mom shakes her head. "No, you two go. I have something to do this morning," she says.
I watch as Dad nods and returns all his attention back to his coffee, trying to ignore the woman across the room. Tim looks between them and raises an eyebrow, asking me what the deal with the two of them are. I only shrug. "But now that everyone is in town, and we have some free time, I have an idea." Everyone turns to look at me. Alfred raises an eyebrow. Tim tilts his head as he stares at me. Mom and Dad glance over at each other before they turn their attention back to me. "So tomorrow, since Dad doesn't have any meetings, I say we go to the amusement park you've been teasing about for months."
Tim flashes a big smile and pulls out his phone, probably already telling Dick and Jason of the plan. I don't have to know Damian well enough to know he'll do anything as long as it gets his adrenaline rushing.
Dad takes another sip of his coffee and places the mug down on the counter, thinking hard about my suggestion. For weeks I've asked to go, and normally he would have cleared his schedule for a day out, but it never seemed right with just me and him. It seems like a much better idea now that the family can go - the whole family.
"We don't even know if the boys are free to go," Dad says. He's purposely trying to get out of spending time with all of us. He glances up at Mom again, before he pulls his phone out of his pants pocket. Correction: he's purposely trying to get out of spending time with Mom. Well it's not going to happen. I've only had them together once, and I won't let it go to waste.
Without skipping a beat Tim flashes his phone screen to Dad and says, "Jason and Dick are down." He turns the phone when it vibrates in his hand, looking down at the screen for a moment before he adds, "And Damian says he'll come if we invite Jon."
I nod and look at Dad, who is still trying to avoid answering the question. "See, everyone is all good to go. So can we go?"
He glances up at Mom one more time. She only shrugs and gives him a small nod, before he lets out a sigh. "Fine," he says, putting his phone back into his pocket. "We'll go tomorrow." He turns and grabs his coffee, gulping the last of the liquid that has gone cold, before he places the mug into the sink. He turns to me and says, "Now come on, we've got a movie to catch."
I nod and follow Dad out of the kitchen, giving Alfred a wink on my way out. He rolls his eyes at me and turns to clean the counter where Dad's coffee mug has left a small ring. I follow Dad out into the garage and into his car, hopping in the front seat with him. He climbs in behind the wheel and starts the car, waiting until my seatbelt is buckled over my chest before he starts to drive out of the garage and down the driveway, toward town.
As he drives through the streets of Gotham, still quiet for being a little after nine in the morning, he stays quiet. It's unusual for him. "Dad?" I ask as he turns the corner.
"Hmm," he says, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him.
"Does it bother you?" I ask.
His eyes don't leave the road as he answers me. "Does what bother me?"
"Mom being here."
He slows the car down as we approach a red light, stopping at the intersection. He turns to me and thinks for a moment, biting his bottom lip as he thinks about his answer. Finally he says, "It's complicated. I haven't seen your mother since you were a baby." He turns back to face the stoplight, watching the traffic as more cars make their way onto the road.
The light turns green and Dad hits the gas, turning the corner one more time. That wasn't an answer. And like he's said before, I am stubborn. "Why?" I ask. I am genuinely curious, as no one has given me the exact reasoning my parents split so long ago.
Dad's hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter and he lets out a sigh. I don't need him to answer it this time. The way his shoulders tense thinking about Mom tells me everything I need to know. Hopefully he can forgive her - I still have a few days to get him to that point.
"But she's still as beautiful as you remember, right?" I ask with a grin, choosing to ignore the last question I've asked.
Dad nods without thinking. His shoulders untense and his grip on the wheel loosens. "Of course," he admits. "She was always the most beautiful person in the room." He puts his hand on my head and pushes the same strand of hair behind my ear Mom had during breakfast.
One of the things I miss when I'm here in Gotham with Dad is being able to control my long hair. Mom usually helps me with it on the island, braiding it with such precision, even the most intense training exercises with Antiope can't mess it up. For years Dad would try, but it can't stand up to Mom's. Alfred even gave it a try, but his old hands aren't as flexible as they used to be. When I'm here, I usually end up doing it myself. Most of the time it ends up in a messy ponytail or pushed back with a hair band.
"That's where you get it from," Dad says, breaking my thoughts.
I give Dad a wide smile. "Did you ever think about her?" I ask, my questions starting back up. I'm going to get him to break, no matter how much he doesn't want to think about Mom.
Dad shrugs as he pulls into the parking lot of the theater. "I used to." I can tell he's lying. I've seen him on more than one occasion looking at that wedding photo he keeps hidden in the top drawer of his desk.
"Do you think you'll ever get back together?"
Dad pulls into a spot and turns the car off. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to me, his eyebrow raised in confusion. "What is with all the questions today?" I notice he doesn't answer the question.
I shrug and unbuckle myself. "Do you ever regret falling in love with her?"
Dad takes a moment to think of the question, his eyes reading my face as he thinks of his answer. After a moment he says, "No" and shakes his head. "Because she gave me you, and that's more than I could ever ask for." He leans over and kisses my forehead, before he pokes my cheek with his finger. "Now that's enough questions."
He opens his car door and steps out and I do the same. We both close our doors and Dad locks the car, before he walks up and places his hand on my uninjured shoulder. We quickly walk to the theater, getting to our seats just in time to catch the beginning previews.
XXXXXX
May 19th. Wayne Enterprises. 12:34
I sit behind Dad's desk in his big computer chair, twirling around and around until I get dizzy. After our movie, Dad had received a call about an emergency meeting. After he apologized about a dozen times, he had called Alfred to come pick me up from his work since he didn't know how long it would take. When Dad had sat me in his office, promising me he'd be home in time for dinner, I took the liberty and called Alfred myself, rearranging my pick up. After all, Mom had said she would like to get lunch, and now that my day had opened up, it was the perfect chance to tell her all about the last six months.
There's a knock on the door and I spin the chair to face the front of Dad's office. "Come in," I call. I place my hands on the desk, ready to strike a deal to whoever is on the other side.
Mom pokes her head inside and lets out a small sigh when she notices Dad is nowhere to be found. "Where's your father?" she asks as she steps into the office and closes the door behind her.
"In a meeting," I say. I spin the chair once more before I hop off it. My legs wobble as my head spins. I now realize that I have spun one too many times. My hand holds the edge of Dad's desk as I regain my balance. When I'm all set, I look up to see Mom shaking her head, a small smile on her face.
"You're just like your brother," she says softly.
I run a hand through my hair, huffing as I realize most of the ponytail has fallen out. "Which one?" I ask as I yank the rubber band out, leaving my wavy hair to fall to the middle of my back.
"All of them," she says. She walks up to where I stand and places a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to stop meddling with my hair. Without a word she gently rakes her fingers through my hair, separates a section toward the front and braids it. When she's done she pulls it into a ponytail, keeping the hair neatly out of my face. "It's not perfect, but it'll do," she says as she admires her quick work.
I look at her handiwork in the mirror to the left of me, a smile on my face. Oh how I've missed not being the only girl in a place. "It's wonderful," I say. "I've missed this."
Mom lets out a chuckle as she turns to the mirror and pulls half of her hair from her face and braids it, letting it fall gently to the back of her head unsecured. Not that it matters. Mom could be bald and still look as beautiful as ever.
"You and your father both have unruly hair," she comments. "If only you could see what it was like those nights he fell asleep at his computer after long nights patrolling."
She lets out a laugh as she thinks back. The memory must be a good one because the smile doesn't leave her face. "But he's still very handsome," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. If Dad won't break, maybe Mom will and admit she still has feelings for Dad.
Mom raises an eyebrow. She's not as easily persuaded as Dad, but she also won't lie. "Yes. He is." She shakes her head free of the memories and clears her throat. "Does Valentina's still have the best pizza in Gotham?" she asks, changing the subject.
I nod. Valentina's is the only place my family has been getting pizza from for years. One time Damian bought pizza from a competing restaurant and was shunned by Tim for a week. He never made that mistake again.
Mom scribbles out a note on one of the pads of sticky notes on Dad's desk, letting him know she picked me up in case Alfred hasn't gotten ahold of him yet. She attaches the note to the edge of his computer, her eyes linger on the photo of all of us kids in the corner of the desk, before she turns to me and gives me a small smile. The two of us make our way out of the office and down the hall to the elevators, riding down in silence. We make our way out of the building and down the street, our eyes set on the small restaurant on the corner. It isn't long before we're sitting outside, a pizza set in between us as we talk about the last six months.
I tell Mom about Dick and his promotion at work. She nods, as if she already knows this. I then let her know about Jason and Tim. I tell her about Damian, but I don't linger on his treatment of me. I know Mom would not be too thrilled to know how awful he is. I tell Mom about Alfred and how sassy he has become in his old age. That gets a laugh from Mom as she tells me Alfred has always been sassy. I tell Mom about Thanksgiving, when Uncle Clark decided to deep fry a turkey much to Alfred's dismay. I tell her about Christmas and the snowstorm that Gotham had, leading to the city being closed for three days. I tell her about the Valentine's date Damian went on that ended in disaster. I then tell Mom about Dad and how wonderful the last few months have been. She smiles but I can see the hurt in her eyes. It's not that I don't love spending time on the island, I do. I love being there with Mom, Antiope, and all the Amazons. But I also love spending time with Dad and my brothers, and Alfred, and kids my own age. More often than not I wish I didn't have to split my time with them.
"Sounds like you had a wonderful time," she says as she wipes her hands with a napkin.
I nod and take another bite from the slice of pizza that has cooled in my hands. It was a wonderful time, but something was missing. Something is always missing. I open my mouth to make a comment when a camera flash goes off beside us.
"OH MY GOD!" someone yells. Both Mom and I turn to see a group of women standing beside us, their phones out recording and taking pictures of us.
Mom hooks the leg of my chair with her foot and pulls, dragging me back behind her, her instinct to protect me on full display. Dad does the same thing whenever we are out and someone with a camera comes toward us. He says he doesn't want me to have to live my life in front of everyone, but I know the real reason. He's afraid of someone finding out who he is, who he truly is, and having access to me. Mom has lived on the island for so long she has forgotten that fear, but now that it is happening before her eyes, she jumps into protective mode without hesitation.
"Is that Wonder Woman?" one of the women asks as she snaps a picture of Mom.
"It is!" another exclaims. "And she's here with her daughter."
"PJ," one of the women in the back says, "what are you two discussing."
Mom glances at the woman and gives her a smile. To the untrained eye it may seem like a genuine smile, but I know what it actually means. Leave my daughter alone or you'll answer to me.
"Hello," Mom says. Everyone's attention turns to her. The blonde woman in the front snaps a photo of Mom and gives her a timid smile.
"Wonder Woman. Diana. Hi," she says. "You're back in Gotham!"
Mom nods. "I am," she states. "And I appreciate your enthusiasm, but my daughter is a little too young to be plastered all over the internet, so can we please put the phones away?"
The women all glance up from their phones and look my way, their eyes widening when they see me sitting behind Mom with a scared look on my face. I may have grown up the daughter of Wonder Woman and billionaire Bruce Wayne, but they still did everything in their power to keep me shielded. The women all nod and shove their phones into their purses. Mom gives another nod, a thanks for listening to her, and gives them another smile. My shoulders, which ache from how tense they have become, relax as I let out a small sigh of relief. Even after a decade away, some people still respect Mom's wishes.
"Diana?" The woman in front says. "You're back in Gotham. Does that mean Wonder Woman is back for good?"
Mom opens her mouth to answer when another question is said. "Does that mean you and Bruce are getting back together?"
Everyone falls silent as they await Mom's answer. She gives a nervous chuckle and shakes her head. "No," she states. "Bruce and I aren't getting back together."
All four of the women pout as their hopes are crushed. Alfred used to tell me stories of my father and of the women he used to date before Mom. He told me when the two of them got together, and married, half of the women in Gotham were sad to know they would never have a chance with him. But that all changed when they realized how much of a difference having Mom in Gotham made to the city. She pushed for Dad to make Gotham a better place, helped his company, even went as far as volunteering her own limited time to help the business in the city recover from years of crime. The people of Gotham trusted her. When Mom left, however, everyone in Gotham was saddened by her departure. Everyone who had witnessed their love was devastated that they of all people couldn't make it last.
As I watch the women say their goodbyes, waving to Mom as they walk down the street, gossiping amongst themselves, I smile to myself. No, Mom and Dad weren't getting back together - at least not yet.
Read Back to You chapter 3 now: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14077571/3/Back-to-You
May 19th. The Batcave. 02:51
Bruce
Damian jumps off his motorcycle, pulling the kickstand up and letting it rest, before he turns to where I stand. He pulls his hood down and off his head, aggressively tears his mask off his face, and slams it onto a neighboring table. "You let him get away!" he yells between clenched teeth. He's angry, very angry.
I take a deep breath and stare at Damian's face. His eyebrows are furrowed and he flares his nostrils as he pulls his gloves off his hands and throws them onto the table, letting them join his mask. "I did what I needed to," I explain. I reach up and grab the top of my mask, yanking it off my head, and wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my exposed hand. "He was going to lead us to his supplier," I say, carefully unclipping my belt and laying it on my desk.
"Bullshit!" he says, his hands clenching into fists.
I ignore his outburst, letting out a sigh as I turn toward the computer and turn it on, ready to input tonight's surveillance notes. "You failed to see the bigger picture," I state over my shoulder. "Arresting him and giving him to GPD would have ruined the entire operation." Damian lets out another huff and I roll my eyes. My son is intense at times. I can't fault him, it's how his grandfather and mother had raised him for a decade. It's something we've been working on since he was eleven. He now only has occasional outbursts when in moments of high stress or during strong bouts of emotions. Today it is the latter.
I knew seeing Diana would trigger something in Damian. He was a mess when she left, shutting down for days at a time. Even during patrols he wasn't himself - I had to send him home a few times fearing he would get himself hurt. Tonight is no different.
"That's a lie," Damian sneers. He pulls the upper part of his uniform off, knowing he needs to clean the blood from a mugger who was unfortunate enough to meet the bottom of his boot a few times, off sooner rather than later. Alfred would never forgive him for ruining another suit. "You're distracted because that woman is back in Gotham."
My shoulders tense with his statement. It's not the words he says that makes me cringe, it's the way he says it, emphasizing that he would rather call Diana "that woman" than call her by name. I turn to face Damian, watching with narrow eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. The scar that runs from his left shoulder to the middle of his chest is highlighted by the lights in the cave, a memory of a night I thought I lost him three years ago trying to force its way to the forefront of my brain. I quickly push it back down. Now is not the time.
"Damian," I warn, the sound coming out more raspy than intended. "Don't."
Damian doesn't heed my warning. He shakes his head and throws his hands up in frustration. "You've always been distracted by that woman!"
"Damian," I say again, my voice raising a bit. I understand his frustrations with Diana, but she is still the mother to my child. She deserves some respect. "She will be here for a few days, and you will respect her while she is here."
Damian scoffs. "She left you, Bruce," he says. The sound of my name coming from his lips stings harder than intended. "She left all of us. She doesn't deserve respect." He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. His face begins to redden and I can see he is a few moments from self destructing. "The only reason I tolerate PJ is because she is still a part of this family. But that woman, Diana, is not a part of this family anymore and -"
"Enough!"
The sound that comes from my lips startles Damian and, quite honestly, myself. My intention wasn't to shout. I only meant to stop Damian before he continued down the path I've been on many times before, with hateful words that can't be unspoken. But my son finds ways to rile me up, bringing up things he knows will anger me, wanting me to feel the anger and hatred he feels. Diana is one of those things.
Damian opens his mouth to argue once more, but I shut it down before he can even begin. "This conversation is over," I say, my voice still raised. "It'll be a few days, then things will go back to normal."
Damian only scoffs. "Nothing about this is normal," he mumbles under his breath, unaware I can hear him. With that he walks away, his shoulder brushing roughly against mine as he leaves. His boots leave heavy stomps throughout the cave, until he reaches the elevator and slams the gate closed, riding it back up to the manor.
When he is out of ear shot I let out a sigh and groan. He's right, nothing about this whole situation is normal, but nothing about me or my life has been normal since I was orphaned at eight. I've learned to manage my life around things. That includes when Diana left. This will just be yet another thing I'll manage.
I quickly turn back to the computer and start my surveillance notes, uploading the video and photos I've collected from patrol, trying to push Diana further from my mind. Like I told Damian, she's only here for a few days. When she leaves everything will go back to normal.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
03:40
I pull on a pair of dark sweats and gray shirt, my body still tense. The hot shower I had minutes before has done nothing to relieve the stress that has been building all day, and the more I think about Damian, Diana, and PJ, the more I feel the tension culminating into a headache. I run the towel over my face, drying the last bit of moisture from my beard, before I run it through my damp hair and toss the towel into the bathroom floor. I'll pick it up when I come back up, but for now I need something to settle this dull ache in my head before it becomes a full fledged migraine.
I quickly make my way out of my bedroom, walking down the hall, down the stairs and through the foyer, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake up anyone else. PJ is sound asleep, I checked in on her before I went to my room after patrol. Damian is - well I'm assuming he's grumbling in his room. And Diana is hidden away.
I continue toward the kitchen, my eyebrow raising when I see one of the lights still on. Maybe Alfred forgot to turn one off after cleaning after dinner. Maybe he left one on knowing I would be here after patrol, given what happened during dinner. Either way, I'm grateful to see where I am headed, instead of solely relying on the faint light from the moon. I step into the kitchen, the small smile on my face fading when I see I am no longer alone.
Diana sits at the small table in the corner, curled in one of the chairs. Her arms are wrapped around her legs, keeping them close to her chest. The oversized sweatshirt she wears slides off one of her shoulders, leaving the area bare, making my lips twitch into a smile. It used to be mine, but the first night she slept over she stole it and claimed it as her own, wearing it whenever she had a lot on her mind. I hate to admit it, but it's nice to see she hasn't pushed me completely out of her life.
On the table is a cup of tea. Small strands of steam rise from the cup, showing it hasn't grown cold, but she has definitely been sitting here a while. Something big must be on her mind. Some part of me wants to turn on my heel, rush back to my room, avoid being alone with her any longer than necessary. I take a step back, but it is too late, as she looks up from her cup and notices me in the doorway.
"Sorry," she whispers, standing from her seat so quickly she nearly knocks her cup of tea from the table. "I thought you would still be out."
I only shake my head, reach over to the light switch, and turn the rest of them on. The bright light causes both of us to squint momentarily until our eyes adjust. "I finished patrol a bit early," I explain. When we were together, it wasn't unlike myself to be out until six or seven in the morning; it was one of the changes I made when PJ started spending time at the manor.
Diana nods. "I told Alfred he could go to bed and I'd put away my items. Let me clean everything up and I'll go back to my room." She takes a sip from the cup on the table and walks to the trash, plucking the tea bag from the cup, placing it in the trash, before she heads to the sink.
"It's okay," I say as she turns on the sink and begins to gently wash the cup in her hands. As she rinses off the soap from the cup, I walk to the refrigerator, open it, and pull a bottle of water from one of the shelves. I quickly open the top of the bottle and chug half of its contents, listening as Diana turns off the water and places the now dry cup back into the cupboard. "Don't leave on my account."
Diana lets out a nervous chuckle. Her eyes don't meet mine as she leans against the sink, arms crossed. "It's your home, Bruce," she whispers. "I'm the one intruding here."
I walk past Diana to the end of the room, open the drawer Alfred usually keeps an extra supply of pain medication, and pull a bottle of Advil out and onto the counter. I can feel Diana's eyes on me as I twist open the top of the bottle and pour two pills in my hand, shoving them into my mouth and swallowing with a sip of water.
"Seems someone is getting a little too old for the nightly escapades," she says. Her tone is light and joking but I can see the frown on her face.
"You can say that again," I reply, finishing off the bottle in my hands. She lets out a laugh and my lips twitch into a smile once again. God, I've missed the sound of that laugh. I place the empty bottle on the edge of the breakfast bar and lean against the counter, my eyes focused on Diana, watching as she looks up from the floor.
We stare at each other in silence, both taking in the two people we now are. I noticed it the moment she walked through the door, but I was too shocked to make any comment about it when we spoke in my office. But her hair is shorter, falling right below her shoulders instead of the middle of her back. Her face now shows the faint lines that come with the responsibility of being Queen of the Amazons, and raising a child. Somehow I know PJ has been the cause of a majority of those.
Diana looks older, wiser, but is still as beautiful as ever. Her eyes are still a deep shade of blue, but where wonder and excitement used to lay, there is worry and exhaustion. I fear the island has stolen the best years of her life, although that may be the bias speaking.
"Did Alfred get you settled?" I ask, breaking the silence.
Diana nods and lets out a small sigh. "Yes, although I fear he is conspiring with our daughter to keep me here."
I shrug. "Of course those two are up to something," I say. That much was evident when he had walked into the dining room with Diana, a smug smile on his face as I laid eyes on her. Diana flashes a small smile, glad we agree on one thing. "Alfred would do anything for PJ and he misses you. He misses having a daughter around."
In an instant Diana's smile fades and she bites the inside of her cheek, shame on her face. I decide to change the topic. "What are you doing up?" I ask.
Diana shrugs her shoulders. "I couldn't sleep," is her vague answer. She looks around and lets out another sigh. "I shouldn't have come back," she whispers.
I shake my head. "No, you should've never left," I say before I can stop myself.
Diana's eyes narrow. It's a conversation the two of us have had over a dozen times, the last being the night she brought PJ back to me. "You know I had no choice," she says. Glad to know her stance on the topic hasn't changed.
"Bullshit," I mutter. "You left because you wanted to."
She lets out another sigh. "I never wanted to leave," she says in barely a whisper.
I want to argue. I want to understand why. After all these years I still don't know why she made the choice to leave, but seeing her standing there, quiet, shame in her eyes, I realize I may never get the answers I seek. "Don't forget to turn off the lights," is all I say as I turn on my heel and walk out of the kitchen, leaving Diana to think over if this was as bad of an idea as I think it is.
The room is quiet as everyone stares my way. I haven't felt this nervous in ages, not since the last time I stepped foot in the manor, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to be here. But I promised my daughter I would be, and there is no way I can back out now. Penelope's got a strong mind, and a brilliant memory. She'd never let me forget if I hadn't come; she's just like her father.
I glance around the room, purposely skipping over Bruce, as I take in the various expressions of those seated around the large table I have spent many meals at. I know he's staring at me with those beautiful blue eyes, and I don't feel like seeing the hurt all over his face. It nearly broke me the last time. Instead I glance at the young man to his right.
Damian sits silently glaring at me, hatred burning in his eyes. I know I hurt him when I left, Alfred's letter told me he all but shut down when I went back to Themyscira, but I never expected to see so much hate on his face. He grips the knife in his hand a little too tightly and I know he's trying not to revert back to the boy his grandfather raised. The boy that had been trained as a skilled killer. There was a time when he would have thrown it my way without remorse.
"Diana!"
I turn toward Dick and see him smiling widely. It's nice to see someone happy I'm here, someone other than Alfred, and I can't help but have my heart flutter when I see the man Dick has become. His hair is shorter than the last I saw him and when he turns his head to glance at the man beside him, I notice the faint line of a scar up the base of his neck where hair has ceased to grow. "I've missed you!" he says, excitement laced in his voice.
Jason sits beside Dick, his eyes still wide in disbelief that I am in fact standing in the manor and not one of the holograms Penelope has told me Wayne Enterprises has been working on. He puts down his fork and steals a glance at Bruce and Damian, before he shrugs and flashes me a smile.
My lips curl into a smile of their own as I watch Dick stand from his seat and walk toward me, his arms open as he rushes to envelop me in a tight hug. I watch as Damian's gaze shifts from me to Dick, his eyes narrowing as he stabs his knife into the table and jumps from his seat. Without a word he walks away from the table and out of the room.
An awkward silence falls on the room. My smile slowly fades as I watch Damian leave. Penelope has failed to mention how angry her brother is. Then again, this is all she knows. She was too young to remember the sweet boy who once raced home, missing a lunch date, because the baby and I had been sick and needed medication.
Across from where Damian sat is my daughter. Penelope sits in her chair, avoiding my eyes, staring across the table at her father. I hug Dick back and force a smile on my face, pushing my hair back and over my shoulders to keep it out of his face. "I've missed you too," I finally say. "All of you."
I let my glance shift back to Bruce, settling on his face for the first time. He stares at our daughter from across the table, his eyes narrowed as he chews on the inside of his cheek. I've seen that look with all of the boys to know exactly what it means. She's either said or done something he doesn't agree with, but he doesn't want to scold her in front of everyone.
He takes a deep breath and finally looks up my way, just as Dick drops his arms from around me. He walks back to his seat at the table and continues his meal, my attention dropping to my daughter, who slowly turns to look up at me. She flashes me a weary smile, testing the waters to see if I am angry that I am back in Gotham after all these years, before she raises an eyebrow and lifts her shoulders in a small shrug.
My only answer is to drop down to my knee beside her and pull her into my arms, giving her a hug only a mother could. I have missed her terribly over the last six months, just as I do every year, but it's the consequences of my actions. I chose to move back to Themyscira. It was solely my choice. My child should not have to suffer a life of loneliness, unable to connect with her father and the rest of her family because of me. Still, that thought brings little happiness on the months she is away with Bruce.
"Mom," Penelope whispers as she begins to struggle against my arms. "You're doing it again."
I chuckle as I continue to hold her. I know she hates when I show such affection, but I cannot help it. This type of affection was rare with my mother, even more so when we were around other Amazons. I never want Penelope to doubt how much I truly love and appreciate everything she is.
"I don't care," I say, my voice conveying a lighthearted tone despite the awkwardness that still lingers in the room. "I've missed you, my little sun and stars."
Bruce clears his throat, forcing my attention away from Penelope. He gently pushes his seat back and stands from his chair. "Excuse me," he mutters softly, before he steps away from the table and walks out, giving Alfred a concerned look before he steps out of the room. I've seen that look much before as well. He's looking for help. Me being here has probably brought up a whirlwind of emotions; I can completely relate.
"Miss Diana," Alfred says, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. When he opened the door I nearly broke down seeing the man who had become like a father to me. I had never known the love of a father, and for most of my life, I had thought I couldn't possibly miss something I never had. The first week back on the island made me realize I was terribly wrong. He had wrapped me in his arms in a matter of seconds, years of worry and sadness melting as his arms tightened as both of us tried our damndest not to cry.
My arms drop from around Penelope and I stand. "Can I set you a place to sit and eat?" Alfred offers, gesturing to the empty seat at the table beside Penelope.
I look at the table and notice Jason and Dick nodding, silently telling me to join them, and catch up on all these years apart. Part of me wants to accept. It's been years since I've had a meal as wonderful as Alfred's home cooking, and I want to hear everything the eldest two have been up to this last decade. But I know I have more urgent matters at hand, and with the way he left, I know I need to speak to Bruce sooner rather than later.
"I appreciate the offer," I say, giving the Englishman a small smile. "But I really should talk to Bruce."
Alfred nods. "Master Bruce should either be downstairs or in-
"His study," we say in unison. I recall that room, beside the cave, was where he would spend a majority of time when he needed to think things over. There's a portrait of him and his parents, taken the week before their deaths, that hangs on the wall behind his desk. It brings him a sense of peace when things seem out of control.
Alfred nods once more. "I'll leave you to it then."
With that I walk out of the room, down the hall, past the large foyer. There are dozens of photographs that line the walls. Each member of the family is smiling wide in every photo, eyes wide as they stare at the person behind the camera. It makes me smile but simultaneously saddens me. I remember being a part of this wall, but it only makes sense that I have been taken down, a constant reminder of the woman who abandoned her family, hidden away from view.
I quickly cross the foyer and venture down another hall, stopping at the first door to the right. The door is cracked open and I can hear someone shuffling around inside, opening the top desk drawer that catches each and every time it's extended too far. I smile knowing Bruce has never replaced the piece of furniture I gifted him during our first year of dating. My hand raises and knocks on the door gently, momentarily silencing the shuffling on the other end.
"Come in," Bruce calls. His voice is raspy and low and I wonder if it's because he's trying to hold back anger.
I open the door to the study and step inside, closing the door behind me. I don't know how either of us are going to react, if we even react, and I'd rather not have an audience with me seeing the man I had loved for years.
Bruce stands behind his desk, his back to the door as he hunches over the back cabinet. There is a bottle of scotch he has pulled from his collection near the fireplace on his desk. I can see he already has a glass in one hand, the other holding something I can't quite see.
"Bruce?"
His shoulders tense the minute his ears register it is my voice that has spoken. He glances at me over his shoulder and takes a breath before he turns to face me. He takes a small sip from his scotch before he places it on the desk, his hand carefully placing the object in his hand back in the desk drawer. "Diana," he answers, sliding the drawer closed. He watches me with stern eyes, his hands crossed over his chest, and suddenly I am that young woman on Man's World for the first time, entranced with the stranger standing in front of me. Because at this moment, that's exactly what Bruce is: a stranger.
His hair, which has grown longer, sits messily atop of his head, his bangs covering part of his forehead instead of slicked back like it had been for so many years. His face is no longer clean shaven, instead sporting a black beard streaked with gray, framing his face, keeping his jawline just as sharp as the day I met him. It makes him look older, wiser, and in all honesty, much more handsome. He's dressed in a pair of dark jeans and gray casual button down, a pair of dark derby shoes on his feet. It seems in the time I have been gone he has fully acclimated to the role of father - not that he wasn't an excellent one before. All in all, Bruce looks different, but the moment I look up into his eyes and see those beautiful baby blues hidden behind years of pain, I realize he's the same man I've always known. No amount of change on the outside could get rid of that.
"What are you doing here?" he asks as he leans against the edge of his desk. The angle he stands in forces his shirt to tighten over his chest and I am able to see he still has the physique of a man much younger. Penelope tells me he still goes out as The Batman, and although she says he's cut back on his hours patrolling the streets of Gotham, I can see he can still get the job done.
I force my eyes back up to meet Bruce's, pulling a stray strand of hair back behind my ear as I narrow my eyes and focus. "Penelope made me promise to pick her up for the switch," I explain. "And since I have a meeting with the embassy in a few days, I thought it best I come alone." I watch as he raises an eyebrow, his grip on his arms growing tighter. "She didn't tell you, did she?" I ask, although I already know the answer. If Bruce had known I was coming he would have been much more prepared, much less likely to let the little bit of emotions that had already slipped through, out.
He shakes his head. "I didn't know you would be picking her up until you walked in," he answers. "Seems our daughter is just as forgetful as her mother," he says, his lips twitching slightly, as if he is trying to force the smile back.
The comment doesn't cut nearly as deep as Bruce intends, because it doesn't sound like he genuinely means harm. I let out a nervous chuckle. "Almost as cunning as her father," I retort, my own arms crossing over my chest.
"It would appear so," Bruce says, unphased by my comment. "Although if you came to pick her up early, it's going to be a firm no."
I knew Bruce would expect that is why I'm here. Truth was, I really did want to see everyone. But more importantly, I had received a letter asking to come to dinner. A letter, I now realized, Bruce had no idea about. "I'm not taking her away from you earlier than planned, Bruce," I say, annoyed he would even think I would do that. She was away from me for six months, another day was not going to kill me. "I just wanted to let our daughter know I was in town should she need anything," I lie. I'm not going to tell him the real reason I came into Gotham a day early. It'll be a secret I take to my grave. "And like I said, I have a meeting with the embassy in a few days. Until then I will be in Gotham getting some affairs in order, but if Penelope would like a few extra days with her father, I have no problem with that."
Bruce raises an eyebrow. Finally, I have peaked his interest. "You'd do that?" he asks, his hands dropping the guard over his chest.
I nod. "Yes," I answer. "You may think I'm a monster, Bruce, but I won't use our daughter as a pawn in something that happened to you and I years ago."
Bruce scoffs. "I never said you were a monster, Di-an-a," he says, enunciating every syllable of my name. He is trying to frustrate me, and it's working. "I only said-"
He stops and we both turn to the door when we hear shuffling come from the hall. He walks to the door and I follow, watching as he grabs the handle and swings it open.
Penelope stands right outside the door, her eyes wide like a deer in headlights. I don't know what she had expected the two of us to be doing in this room for us not to hear her, but the way she stares at us nervously shows she never expected to get caught eavesdropping.
"PJ," Bruce says, his voice low. "Is there a reason you're sneaking around my study?"
Penelope shifts her eyes between Bruce and I and chuckles nervously. "Mom, Dad, hi," she says. She rings her hands nervously. "So nice to see the two of you here, in the same room."
Bruce and I look at each other and sigh. She's right. The last time the two of us were in the same room, Penelope was two. "We're just discussing how you seem to have forgotten to tell your father I was coming to Gotham."
Penelope nods. "Ah, yes yes yes," she says, pointing a finger at me. "Did I hear you say you'll be here for a few days?"
I nod. "Penelope," I warn. I know there's something she's not saying. "What are you hiding?"
"Okay, listen," Penelope begins, "this is the first time I've ever had the opportunity to spend time with both of you together. So, I'd love to be able to spend my birthday with the two of you. And since you're going to be here for a few days, it's the perfect time."
"Penelope," I begin, wanting to stop the conversation before she builds this idea in her head of a perfect family outing with the three of us. Things between Bruce and I are complicated. They have been for years. "We can have dinner or something, but your father would like to spend a few more days with you."
Penelope shakes her head. Apparently my offer isn't to her liking. "Actually I was thinking, maybe you could stay here!"
Bruce glances my way and clears his throat. I'm sure he can sense what I'm thinking. My eyes narrow as I raise an eyebrow. So this was the plan all along. Get us all under one roof and hope that it brings back unresolved feelings? She really is cunning like her father. "PJ," he says, stopping when Penelope speaks again.
"We've got plenty of rooms, and I don't have a memory of the two of you together. What do you say?"
I turn to look at Bruce, who stands and ponders his daughter's proposal. I knew I would be coming to Gotham for much longer than Bruce, so I have made other arrangements. "Penelope, we'll talk about it."
Penelope seems to accept my answer and nods, turns on her heel, and rushes out of the room, a smile on her face. When I'm sure she is no longer within ear range, I turn to face Bruce and let out a small sigh. "I'll take the fall when she asks where I've gone," I say. "But you know her, she'll push until she gets her way."
Bruce lets out a laugh. "Yes, I know," he says. "She's just like her mother."
I roll my eyes and purse my lips. "I will talk to her in the morning," I say. For now all I want to do is find the nearest bed and sleep. The last decade has treated me well, but I now understand the nights my mother would stand out on her balcony, staring out into the sea. Being Queen is no easy feat. Being a mother on top of that only adds to the pressure. Luckily the Amazons are loyal people. I know I can trust them, even in an extended departure - Antiope has taken charge for the next few days and knows how to contact me should anything change on the island. I can rest easy tonight knowing this.
"Diana?"
"Hm?"
"Maybe PJ's right," he admits. "We have enough rooms here, and it's only for a few days. It'll make her happy."
"What about you?" I ask before I can stop myself.
Bruce shrugs and waves my question off. "That doesn't matter," he whispers. "Besides, I won't be home much." He lets out a small sigh and walks to his desk, grabs his glass of scotch, and takes a sip, signaling the conversation is over.
"Thank you, Bruce," is all I say as I step out into the hallway. As soon as I close the door behind me, Alfred is there in the hall to greet me, a smirk on his face. "Alfred," I say with a small nod, greeting the man.
"If you follow me, Miss Diana, I have set up one of the guest rooms."
I raise an eyebrow as he turns on his heel and begins to walk to the foyer, toward the large staircase that'll lead us upstairs to the many rooms the manor contains. We walk in silence through the manor, climbing the stairs, walking down the hall that houses so many memories. As Alfred leads me down the hall, my eyes focus on the second door on the left. The door is closed but I know what lies behind the wood. I spent nearly every night for over five years settled in that room. I can't help but wonder how much it has changed since I left.
"Ah, here we are," Alfred says, stopping in the hall. He turns to the second door on the right and opens the door, the smirk on his face growing as I glance down the hall at the other guest rooms I know are there. It seems too much of a coincidence that I will be rooming right across from Bruce.
I squint at the old man as I step inside. The bed is already made, my suitcase lying squarely on the center, as the lamp near the bed sets a low light over the room, casting small shadows along the wall. The curtains are drawn back and I can see the bright stars that hover over Gotham shine through the dark sky. "How convenient," I mumble. "Seems you were expecting me."
Alfred shrugs. "Only the best for you, Miss Diana," he says, the smirk still evident on his face. "I know you loved this room. It was why you always had your mother stay here on her visits."
Alfred is right. I did, do, love this room. The king sized bed in the middle of the room is perfect, firm yet comfortable, and the amount of pillows that line the top would swallow a small child. The large ceiling to floor windows face the garden, giving the optimal view of the flowers that bloom in Gotham during the Spring, and a lovely view of the falling snow during the winter. Not to mention the bathroom attached to the room has one of the most relaxing claw foot bathtubs - I will definitely be taking advantage of that this week.
"And you just so happen to put me across from the one person in this house who probably hates my guts," I say.
Alfred only giggles. "I doubt that is true, Miss Diana."
I only nod. I know Penelope and Alfred are up to something, but I am far too exhausted to think of it at the moment. I want nothing more than to curl up in bed, close my eyes, and sleep for the next few days. "Thank you, Alfred," I say.
Alfred nods. "Why of course, Miss Diana," he says. "You have a pleasant night." With that he backs out of the room and closes the door, leaving me to stand in the middle of the room in silence.
I carefully walk to the edge of the bed and take a seat, letting the heavy sigh that has been building release, my shoulders slumping as the weight of everything that has happened in the last few weeks, few hours, piles on. I lean back until my back hits the mattress, the sheets cool against my bare shoulders. My eyes close and I let out another sigh. I knew it would be hard coming back to Gotham. I knew it would bring up some unresolved feelings, guilt mainly. What I hadn't expected was how seeing Bruce would awaken something in me I hadn't felt in a decade. The next few days were going to be much harder than I had originally expected.
Clark Kent was supposed to be dead. Clark Kent was not supposed to have been resurrected, forced to come back to life after dying. Clark Kent was not supposed to be sitting in a bar on a Monday night, casually waiting for two friends, letting his eyes dart back and forth behind fake glasses that kept his identity hidden. But here he sat, staring at the wall of the crowded bar, watching as the images of the resurrected Superman flashed on the screen once more. Clark Kent shouldn't have been alive, but the truth was, he wasn't just Clark Kent, and the world needed Superman now more than ever.
Clark watched the door, waiting for Bruce and Diana to show up. When Bruce had called earlier that week and said he needed to talk to the two of them, he hadn't thought much of it. He knew Bruce was trying to expand the team, wanting to find others like them, others that could fight should the need arise. He was just surprised Bruce wanted to include him in anything. The Batman was so secretive, and up until a few months ago, he had wanted Superman dead. There were times when Clark still found it hard to fully trust Bruce.
The door creaked open and in walked Bruce. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark sweater. Clark imagined it was the only casual clothes the man owned.
Bruce quickly spotted Clark and rushed over to the booth he sat in, taking a seat across from the man who had arrived a few moments prior. He quietly glanced around the bar, taking in the various awards and photographs that plastered the walls, before he studied the bartender chatting with a few bikers at the bar. "Glad you could make it," Bruce said casually, not bothering to look at Clark as he continued to study his surroundings; The Batman always needed a means to escape if necessary.
Clark scoffed. "Not like I have anywhere else to be," he quipped. He leaned back in the booth, letting his head hit the top of the seat with a sigh, before he dragged his hand down his face. As a means to keep a low profile, Clark had been spending more time at the farm with his mother in Smallville. He loved his mother's company, and there was a certain nostalgia to being at the farm after all this time, but he forgot how utterly boring it was, especially when Lois was away at work. He would finish all the chores in less than an hour, read everything he could, help Martha with her errands, but the busyness of Metropolis had seeped into his blood and he soon found himself craving the bright lights of the city. He could only hope Bruce found a way to explain Clark Kent's reappearance soon, so that he could get back to his life in Metropolis with the woman he loved.
"Farm life is not everything you dreamed of?" Bruce asked with a smirk. He watched as Clark lifted his head and glared at him, unamused, before he cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when the door creaked open once more and the chatter that filled the bar died down.
Bruce turned his head and watched as Diana walked towards the two of them, trying to ignore the stares from most of the men, and a few of the women, seated at the bar. Bruce watched as Diana offered Clark a smile, gently placing her hand on his shoulder as she took a seat next to him, before she looked up and gave Bruce a small nod. "Gentlemen," she greeted.
Bruce watched as Clark reciprocated the smile and his hand gripped his knee tightly as a surge of jealousy rushed through his body. "You're late," Bruce said quietly, trying to make his voice not betray him, giving any indication of how she made his heart skip a beat every time he laid eyes on her. He glanced up at her, watching as she adjusted the jacket she wore, before she leaned back and crossed her legs.
"I had to travel internationally," she explained, glancing up at Bruce with a smirk. "Next time you decide to do this, how about Paris?" She watched as Bruce flashed her a smirk. Her heart fluttered as she watched Bruce's eyes travel to her lips; she had done the same to him the past few weeks.
Ever since defeating Steppenwolf the two had grown closer. The flirtations soon followed, as had the innocent touches. Diana would casually stroke Bruce's arm and shoulder while they waited for a file to download. Bruce would gently place his hand on her back as she helped him fine-tune some of his equipment. The two had become comfortable with each other - too comfortable. That was Bruce's worry. He had let himself get swept up in the dream that was Diana and her perfection, and he knew he had to force himself back to reality before it all came crumbling down. Diana was an Amazon, destined to outlive him and be something great for this world. He was a man who was past his prime and nearing retirement. He couldn't rob her of the life he knew she was supposed to lead. So he had pulled back, ignoring her calls unless completely necessary, scolding himself whenever he sent her a text that was less than professional. He needed to focus on finding more members for the team, not pursuing a woman who he clearly did not deserve.
"So why call us here, Bruce?" Clark asked, interrupting the unspoken flirtation Diana and Bruce were engaged in but would never admit to. He had noticed it when he had first come back, back at the memorial. The way Diana had jumped in between him and Bruce, Clark could tell she was protecting him. He obviously meant something to her, and the way Bruce acted around her was evidence enough that the feeling was mutual.
Bruce cleared his throat, clearing his head from any remnants of jealousy, before he glanced up at the Kryptonian. "Now that we know there are others out there, others that want to harm us, we need to be ready." He looked up and lowered his voice, careful not to let everyone around them, who had all gone back to their side conversations when they realized Diana was not interested in any of them, hear what he had to say. "I think there are others out there like us that are willing to join us so we can be ready should another threat come."
Diana nodded and shifted in her seat, placing her hands in her lap. "Agreed," she said. She looked Bruce in the eye and raised an eyebrow. "But something tells me you've already found some."
Bruce only smirked. As much as he hated to admit it, she knew him all too well.
The next two hours were filled with careful planning, whispers of strategies and plans, and boisterous laughter. Bruce had tried to keep this meeting as professional as possible, trying to keep his eyes from stealing glances at the Amazon in front of him, not wanting her to know just how mesmerized he was with her, but had failed miserably. Diana would casually flirt with the man as well, stealing glances of her own, smirking each and every time their eyes met over the table.
Clark, who had grown more and more uncomfortable with the building tension between the two had tried to ignore it, but the harder he tried, the more comfortable Diana and Bruce became. He had even gone to the bar twice to pick up a few drinks, staying a few extra minutes to give the two privacy, but each time he returned, the tension only seemed to have gotten worse.
"So are we not expecting the other three to show up?" Clark finally asked. He was technically the newest member of this group, as he had been six feet under when Bruce and Diana had gathered everyone. Why was he the only one having to deal with the awkward tension that Bruce and Diana were slowly creating.
Bruce tore his eyes away from Diana and shrugged. "Barry is working," he answered, glancing up at Diana who only smiled. She knew it was Bruce who helped Barry get the job at the crime lab, giving him resources to help get the evidence to prove his father was an innocent man.
"Victor has been pretty quiet since getting back to Gotham," Diana explained, her voice nearly a whisper as she glanced over at Clark. She watched as his face softened, his knitted eyebrows relaxing as he realized the weight of her words.
The team had been so occupied trying to calm him when he first came back from the dead, trying to make sure he didn't destroy the city and kill everyone in his path, they had neglected the MotherBox. With no one watching it, Steppenwolf had found it easily, and Silas Stone had given his life so that they might have a chance at finding it once he had taken it away. Clark was convinced he had a part in Silas' death.
Diana's hand quickly found Clark's on the table. She let her fingers wrap around his, giving them a gentle squeeze, silently reminding him Silas' death was not his doing. "I see," Clark whispered in return, giving Diana a small smile, thanking her for her small gesture, before lifting the bottle of beer to his lips and taking a sip. "And Arthur?"
"Arthur is busy being Arthur," Bruce explained, shrugging his shoulders once more.
"Informative," Diana said sarcastically as she released Clark's hand and grabbed her own glass of alcohol. "So you don't have any trackers in Atlantis?" she joked as she swirled her glass, watching the red wine slosh around in the glass as she gave Bruce a smirk.
Bruce tried to hide the smirk that was creeping up on his own face, flicking his eyes up to glance at Clark, who only closed his eyes in embarrassment. "He's in Sicily, actually," Bruce corrected, moving his empty glass toward the middle of the table.
"Ah, forgive me then," Diana said with a smile. She raised her glass to her lips and took a sip, watching as Clark glanced down at his phone. She knew he was silently praying Lois would text him that she needed his help lifting something off the top shelf, or she needed him to go to Chicago for that deep dish pizza they had once had during a conference; anything to get himself out of the awkward situation that he currently found himself in.
"Excuse me," Bruce said abruptly, scooting his chair back and standing from his seat.
Diana and Clark watched as he walked toward the back of the bar, pulling his phone from his pocket as he disappeared around the back corner. "So," Clark began, clearing his throat before he continued, "You and Bruce?"
Diana gave him a guilty smile. "What about us?" she asked, feigning ignorance. She took another sip of her wine.
"What's exactly going on between the two of you?"
Diana shrugged. "It's complicated." Her answer was met with a skeptical face and a laugh of disbelief, as Clark crossed his arms over his chest, not convinced. "Bruce is guarded. Too guarded, and I can never tell what he wants."
Clark took a deep breath, unable to believe he was going to have this conversation with Diana. After everything they had all been through the last year this seemed like it was beneath them, but the more he thought about it, thought about the happiness he felt when he was with Lois, the more he realized everyone deserved that. "What do you want, Diana?" he asked.
Diana said nothing as she stared past Clark at the two men gathered around the pool table at the end of the room. She watched as they threw around friendly banter, each challenging the other, raising the stakes of their game until they shook hands and began to gather the balls.
"Diana," Clark began, forcing her to look away from the men and back at him.
"Bruce loves to throw himself in the fire," she explained. "He tries to sacrifice himself for everyone else, he forgets to live for himself and-"
"And you're worried about getting hurt again," Clark finished. He knew her backstory with Steve. He knew she had been wary about getting attached to anyone else, anyone who was willing to sacrifice themself without a second thought. But he also knew something she didn't. He knew how Bruce felt, even if he couldn't utter the words himself. "You should give him a chance," Clark said. "I think you'll find he feels the same way."
Diana's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?" she asked, watching as Bruce turned the corner slowly, his attention still on whoever was on the other end of that phone call.
Clark only smirked. "Because every time he's around you, his heart races." He watched as Diana chuckled and finished her wine, shaking her head as she placed the empty glass beside Bruce's. "What?" he asked, raising his hands defensively. "I tried to ignore it, but the other day at the farm I thought he was going to have a heart attack the way it kept skipping and speeding up. It's not healthy for the old man."
Diana let out a hearty laugh, the sound of her laughter filling their corner of the bar. "Clark," Diana warned in between laughs, "leave the man alone."
Clark smirked once more, lifting the half drunk bottle of beer to his lips and taking a large sip. He watched as Bruce finally made his way back to the table and took a seat, before he looked around and noticed the bartender staring their way, wondering when he would be up for yet another refill. "Excuse me," was all Clark said as he stood and made his way to the bar.
"Do you think we can make this work?" Bruce asked, watching as Diana glanced over to the men playing pool, her attention on the cues in their hands.
"The plan for the team?" she asked absentmindedly, her focus still on the men as they took turns aligning their sticks with the white ball on the table.
"Yes." He watched as Diana nodded, her attention still on the gentleman and their game. Bruce leaned closer to Diana, trying to determine what had caught her attention. When he saw the two men playing at the end of the room, he raised an eyebrow. "You want to play?"
Diana turned around to face Bruce, her face stopping a few inches from his. She hadn't noticed how close he had gotten, nor had she minded, but seeing his face this close to hers, even in the dim light of the bar, she noticed just how red his cheeks were. Whether it was the alcohol or his irregular beating heart like Clark had mentioned, she didn't know. All she knew was she didn't mind the closeness. "I, um, I never learned how to play," she confessed, her eyes falling to his lips, watching as he unconsciously bit his bottom lip in thought, before she glanced up to meet his eyes.
"Ah, another time then," he said, his voice raspy as he tried to fight the urge to kiss her. He leaned back away from her, distancing himself, and cleared his throat. "I actually have to get going. I have a meeting in the morning and should probably get some sleep."
"Yes," Diana said, flashing him a smile in an attempt to hide her disappointment. "You've gotten boring in your old age," Diana said with a chuckle, winking at Bruce as he stood from his seat and pulled his wallet from his pocket, stopping momentarily to glare at her after her comment.
"Let's not forget," Bruce began. He pulled a few bills from his wallet and laid them on the table, giving a quick wave to Clark and the bartender, before he turned his attention back to Diana. "You're older than me," he said, his voice low so as not to let the entire bar hear his remark. With that he left the bar, a smirk on his face, as he left Diana at the table, confused now more than ever.
