This happens immediately after the last line (which is in italics below) of the JLU episode "Ancient History." As usual, I own nothing.

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"Tell me about my son."

The resolve in her eyes told him everything. Bruce was never one to ask people if they were sure about something, and this situation was no different. John must have told her, and he must have told her very little. Just a spark to start the fire before leaving it to fend for itself. John was staying with Mari- that much was obvious from Shayera's expression.

There was no point in telling her that meddling with the future was dangerous. She understood that to the bone core. Besides, everything the League did was dangerous. And she had been through it all.

The Invasion had hit her the hardest. Flash was right when he said she had been in the ultimate no-win situation. In the end, she saved the Earth at the expense of her home planet. The only reason Bruce voted to keep her out of the League was duty: duty to his city, duty to the world. It was the logical thing to do, and he couldn't allow himself to be biased, positively or negatively. Although she was technically never dismissed from the League, she had dismissed herself. Left with nothing, no home, no friends, no love, she left to become an exile, to go where there were no more secrets, no lies, only her mistakes and memories to reflect on.

And when she returned, it only got harder. But like Bruce, she was a fighter and wouldn't allow emotions to get in the way of her responsibilities. Now that there was nothing to hide, she fought harder, even if there wasn't anything to fight for. Because that was her duty.

For once, Batman turned away from his work, leaving it for a later time. The woman in front of him was determined to know what he knew, so Bruce didn't waste any time. "Rex Stewart, Warhawk, is a member of the future Justice League." Her emerald orbs widened, but she said nothing. "Half-Thanagarian, half-human, he lacks organic wings but uses artificial ones attached to aluminum steel casing body armor and possesses strength greater than that of a human." Bruce paused, allowing Shayera to absorb the information like a sponge. When her expression prompted him to continue, he did. "He is impulsive but valiant. Won't run from a fight. He looks like John but has your eyes."

She stared up at him in wonderment for several seconds. Before long, her eyes started to twinkle and she tried to fight back the tears. But they were too powerful. Shayera lowered her face into her hands. Bruce didn't quite know what to do. It was unusual for her to show weakness like this. But she made no sound or movement, save for the slight retraction of her wings against her back. No comforting words or advice could have made this situation any easier, especially words from a not-so-comforting person like Batman. So Bruce decided to remain still, blending into the surroundings, letting Shayera face her emotions without interruption. After all, what was Batman if he wasn't a sturdy rock in a stormy sea, standing up to the violent waves around him, always taking a beating but never letting them wash him away?

Minutes passed before Shayera looked up again. When she did, her eyes were red and swollen. A visible bite mark had formed under her bottom lip where her top teeth had been digging into it. For that instant, the totality of her pain was painted across her face. Bruce recognized it and suddenly felt a culmination of his own pain rip through his chest. He thought of his mother and father, unjustly taken from this world, taken from him. His heart had been wrenched from his body at the tender age of eight. He only imagined Shayera felt the same, learning that there existed a possibility of rekindling lost love and creating another life out of it, then being told it wasn't an option. Losing your parents and losing your child were two different things, but heartbreak was heartbreak.

Bruce didn't let any of his feelings show on his tough outer shell. And the pain in Shayera's expression was already starting to dissipate. That was only a mask though- the hurt raged on inside. She forced it back to her core, not allowing it to show again. Only for that one instant was it exposed. So, she would go on with life and use the misery as motivation, just like he did. To the world, it would all seem ok. But beneath the surface, things were a different story. She would suffer alone and in silence.

Shayera slowly and wearily stood from her seat. "Thank you," she muttered pathetically.

"At least for you there's still a fighting chance." The words were out of his mouth before his mind could stop them. It was the cold, dead rock inside him that had spoken, wanting its grief to be heard and understood. Shayera placed a hand on the dark knight's shoulder, letting him know with a light squeeze that she heard and understood. Her tired green eyes looked into the empty white stare of the cowl, acknowledging the sadness underneath. And then she turned to leave, to go back to suffering on her own, leaving him to do the same, leaving both to endure their silent pain.

A single tear slid down Bruce's cheek. His voice was nothing more than a rough whisper: "Mom…Dad…I love you."

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