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.
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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.
