The hot coffee on her cup wasn't as bad as some people have claimed.
Gotham was a place for rumors of the vile and nasty. They said the people couldn't be trusted there and even their coffee is questionable. But here she was, enjoying the caffeine that she has been told not to drink. The café she had entered into was a random choice. Well, it was the only choice because of the storm's downpour. She had been walking back to her hotel and she had forgotten to bring her umbrella. She had been already drenched before she found the café. It was shelter but it was more. It was warmth. The waitress had smiled and offered a clean towel. Coffee had been poured into her cup without question. The dark streets are not what they seemed, she concluded.
She pulled out her phone to check for missed calls and messages. None. She checked if some of her things got wet as well. Fortunately, all turned out to be safe and dry in her hand bag. Then she pulled out the plane tickets and placed them on the left side of the table. She stared at it. Then she looked at the dark liquid in her cup.
It wasn't long ago when she met him again. In Paris where his private jet landed. In Paris where he tracked her down somehow in a similar café.
"Three days" she said, "Give me three days".
It had been a few months since the two funerals were held. The military had honored Superman while she and him witnessed the farewell messages for Clark Kent. Bruce Wayne, the man behind the mask, had asked her to join him in his plans. And she never answered since then, except for the deadline she suggested in Paris.
She had arrived in Gotham three days after Paris, wondering if she will ever answer him. Perhaps soon. Perhaps never.
The rain continued to pour hard. More people came in for shelter. She smiled. It seemed she wasn't the only one who forgot to bring an umbrella. The rain had caught them unprepared like refugees fleeing from war. This time though, she was one of them. Instead of fighting off the storm she was safe and warm. She was content to wait for the sun, even if it would take forever.
The door opened once more for one last refugee.
The water dripped from his coat. Somehow it was odd seeing him unprepared for the storm as well.
Bruce hesitated before deciding to sit across from her. She held her cup to keep the coffee from spilling as the table shook a little when he squeezed himself to his seat. A waitress offered a towel, he took it kindly. As he tried to dry himself, she uttered first.
"I was beginning to think you've grown tired of stalking me"
She made sure he saw her smile when he finally looked at her. His eyes were always just looking back at hers. It was their greeting. She liked how he'd reveal a small smile.
"I heard you're here. I had to take my chance", he said gruffly.
"You mean you saw me on your computer"
He had placed trackers onto her belongings since the funeral. She found and disposed them in Paris. Well… most of them.
"I'm surprised you kept a few of my trackers" he said, still wearing that small smile.
She just smiled back and sipped from her cup.
"I think you wanted me to find you". He looked at the plane tickets that were placed neatly on the table earlier. "Going somewhere?"
Yes, she wanted to meet him. But uncertainty still lingered. She placed a hand on the tickets because, somehow, she felt the need to hide her destination.
"You could've known where I'm going without meeting me here. In fact, it would've be easier if you met me at the airport or knocked at door of my hotel room"
His small smile disappeared. It was replaced a flat line. With his palm, he straightened a stray clump of hair on his head. His eyes were serious.
"I wanted give you space. Especially that you said you need time to think"
"I never said I needed three days to think"
"Then why have me waiting?"
She wasn't sure how to answer that.
"I wanted to… see."
"See what?"
"See if the world still deserves our help."
Because that's what she was doing for a century. She was trying to prove to herself that the world deserves a second look. She saw the kindness of people as well as their cruelty. She saw life and death. All of it still made her confused.
"And you thought you can determine that in three days?", he asked with his eyebrow slightly rising.
"I'm not sure anymore." She looked outside from the glass window beside her. The rain didn't seem to have plans to stop anytime soon.
Then she looked back at him grimly.
"I've been in your world for a long time. And I still feel like there's nothing I can do for it. There is always a moment of peace after war. But that peace is always short-lived. The cycle is unbreakable."
There was silence from his end. He looked down at the table, probably thinking his next set of words. It was the first time she was able to observe him for a relatively long time. The lines on his forehead showed that his brows furrow a lot due to over thinking. His stubble told her he has kept himself busy and wasn't able to take a good look at himself. The gray on the sides of his head showed that he had never cared to hide how old he really is. His callous fingers always seemed to be on the verge of clenching which showed her about his mysterious rancor. His eyes, so focused and so intense, gave away his intelligence and perseverance.
And suddenly, an idea came to her. This man, no matter how mortal and damaged, has something to offer.
"Show me what I need to see to convince me"
Bruce's eyes turned to hers. He didn't smile but he nodded.
They braved the storm together before finding his car in a parking lot that was quite far from the café, which made her realize he had been following her by foot earlier. They were drenched again by the time they got inside. He started the car, turned on the heater and pushed the pedal to move forward. The vehicle was a two-seater. Expensive and well maintained. But he never seemed to be irked by having the seats wet from their soaked clothes.
By the diminishing buildings and other structures, it was clear that they were driving away from the city proper. She saw swaying trees and smooth watery asphalt. She saw that the road was getting tighter and tighter. She occasionally looked at Bruce and he had occasionally looked back, like they're trying to get used to each other.
Then they stopped. They got out of the car. Rain poured on them again. He covered her with his coat even though it might've been futile.
They went inside a lake house - his lake house. The first thing she noticed was the marble floor. It was shiny and pristine, and she was suddenly feeling conscious about the mud under the soles of her shoes.
"Alfred would probably get mad about the floor but I don't think he'll ever get snarky at you" he said as he simpered.
"Alfred?" she asked as she squeezed the water out of a clunk of her hair.
"My butler. He went out earlier to buy groceries." Bruce shook water out of his sleeves before finally pealing his coat off and hanging it by his arm.
The white shirt that was underneath the coat was almost transparent because of water. When she saw what it revealed much, she mentally fought to not reveal a blush. Luckily, he wasn't noticing her reaction at the moment.
"He should be back here by now… but he's not... which is a bit strange", he said as he took off his mudded, leather shoes.
Copying him, she stepped out of her shoes easily.
"Probably got stuck out there because of the rain?" she suggested.
"Not really. He always brings an umbrella with him."
Still on his drenched clothes, he started walking towards a door nearby.
"I'll get you a change of clothes. You can wait by the couch. Make yourself comfortable." He said as he entered the room behind the door.
She moved forward with eyes wandering at what she can see so far. The lake house seemed to have streamline décor for the most part. Glass windows that offer a view of the lake were large and thick. Furniture was very minimal. The couch he pointed out was brown and dark. It seemed old but it looked like it had very few instances of its use. The one thing that caught her attention was a small framed picture that was on a stand besides the couch. She grabbed it to inspect. There was an old black and white picture of a family of three.
A father, a mother and a boy. She could recognize that the boy was Bruce.
Remembering him, she swiveled her sights back to the door where he entered. The door was ajar and she could see his naked back before he put a shirt over it. She saw scars. Some seemed to have been deep but not grotesque. Most have faded over time. He moved away which allowed her to see a small bed stand.
There was a bottle of wine and casings of medication.
The more she stared at them, the more she got intrigued. Bruce Wayne, a handsome playboy-billionaire, probably saw horrors as well. Not of war but something that hit close to him. He felt despair. He felt the hopelessness. She could see it in his eyes, despite how hard he tries to hide it. Going out at night to scare the vileness of Gotham suddenly made sense.
When she saw him approaching, she placed the picture back at the stand and looked away. She heard him walking towards her.
"Here", he offered gently but awkwardly, "I hope it's alright."
When she saw the grey sweater and its matching sweatpants in his hands, she just smiled genuinely.
"It's fine."
He pointed her at the bathroom where she could change. She went in, changed quickly, fixed her hair and got out. The sweater was loose on her that a side of it drooped and revealed her bare shoulder. Bruce might've blushed from that.
Then he led her to a study room which he later revealed to be a ruse for a different room by pushing three different books on a shelf. The largest bookcase reversed and slid away, disclosing a stairway that was headed below.
He led her down. Her sight adjusted for the darkness. Soon they were in a cave much larger than the lake house. It didn't take long before her eyes widened. The first thing she saw was the large collection of custom-made weapons that hanged on the wall. There was an intimidating vehicle that was parked nearby. Multiple computer screens adorned another wall. He didn't need to explain that this was his base of operations. A bat cave for the Batman.
"I don't think showing me all of this would convince me"
"It's not the cave I'm hoping for you to see"
He grabbed something square-ish from a metal desk. He placed it onto her palms.
A book. An old, leather-bound book.
"What's this?"
"It's a journal."
She opened it and her heart almost stopped. The familiar handwriting… It can't be.
"I didn't stop digging up for information about you, not even after the Doomsday incident. You've hidden your tracks well but if someone looked hard enough, they'll see secrets of history."
She flipped the pages, mesmerized be the number of entries.
"Read the one I bookmarked"
She saw a red strip of paper and open the page where it was placed. She cautiously and silently read it.
Diana, Princess of Themyscira, was the most incredible woman I have ever met. She was beauty and grace, but at the same time, she is strength and power. The men knew it when they saw her. They looked up to her and cheered her when she won battles for us. Ironically, she was the symbol of peace that no one foresaw. Not because she didn't fight, but because she fought to achieve peace itself. She was what we needed to need to win the war, which is fitting because after this hellish time there should be someone who can make sure that nothing like this should ever happen again. Diana is the perfect candidate. I see no one else like her. I don't know if it was by fate or accident that I discovered Paradise Island, but all I know is that meeting her gave me inspiration. It was like there was beauty in this world once again…
She closed the book and looked at Bruce curiously.
"I didn't know Steve kept a journal. How-?"
He moved closer. "I met his granddaughter. Her house was a family heirloom. We found it in her attic."
She never knew about this. She never even knew that Steve Trevor, the first man she ever met, lived long enough to have a family of his own. She gripped the book tightly, feeling grateful for its existence. And bitterly regretted not knowing about it for so long.
Expectantly, Diana gazed at the man who had gifted her this secret artifact.
His face became stern but not in a way that reflected the darkness that she saw in him.
"Steve Trevor saw what was in you all along and I saw the same thing the first time we met. You can bring the light in this world, Diana. You can inspire us..."
He clicked on the switch on a computer console nearby. The large computer monitors lit up. Videos and pictures of Superman's funeral flashed. She had seen the replays of it on TV. A massive number of people was shown, holding up candles and flowers. They cried silently where his monument once stood. Cameras zoomed into the 'S' symbol.
"…Just like he did", he finished as he gazed the whole collection of footages.
And with that she finally understood. There was still hope in the world all along.
Bruce continued.
"Men are still good because heroes inspired them to be. The world not only needs warriors to protect it. It needs people to look up to. I can't do that. At least not alone…"
Then he placed his sights one something else.
"… Not anymore"
She followed his gaze and saw a costume inside a large glass case. Paint had tarnished it. Clearly it belonged to someone else and whoever wore it isn't around anymore. She looked back at Bruce and saw a man who was waiting for peace as he battled the storm. In all his years, he never found it.. And with that, she felt the need to reassure him.
Diana moved closer and gently placed a palm on his broad chest. He seemed surprised by the gesture; she even noticed a slight color appear on his pale face.
"You're not going to be alone anymore", she said.
His eyes focused on hers, as if the rain had stopped and revealed the sun.
Author's Note: I just wanted to try if I can write the BvS version of WonderBat. I hope I did OK at least. This is a one shot for now but I might add two more chapters to this. It sort of weird writing Diana as a recluse, but I think it's quite a refreshing take. I keep editing this for errors. ugh. as usual. I hope I don't find any errors again.
