A/N: First, a huge thanks and much praise to my most awesome beta and friend Dinasis. Thank you for your comments and insights throughout this process. They have been invaluable. If I could, I'd send you a puppy, but I guess my thanks will have to do. BTW I'm still waiting on a Pure Beauty update from you because it's been like six months since your last update…

Second, thanks to kimykrissy for your constant support and encouragement. You keep my spirits up when I get discouraged. You're awesome!

Lastly, thanks to the BMWW readers. This is the most awesome fandom and I'm so proud to be a part of it. Thanks to my faithful reviewers who stick with me through the good and my not so good. Thanks for being patient with me as I continue to grow and learn to write Batman and Wonder Woman.

PROLOGUE

Wayne Manor, October 2nd, 06:02 EST

A roll of thunder echoes in the distance, but I barely hear it, hardly register the pelting rain against the house or the way that the howling wind sporadically rattles the windows. I can barely make my mind work, let alone care about anything else happening at that moment. A part of me is still locked in a state of utter shock; the other part of me feels completely frantic with an overpowering need to act.

Events of not only the last few hours but also the last few months repeatedly parade through my mind, all of them fighting for dominance over my emotions. My life has changed so much since the Thanagarian invasion, since I crashed the Watchtower, and in ways that I could not have even begun to imagine.

Sitting at the kitchen table, I find myself staring at the newspaper lying before me. Fresh off the presses. I don't even know how it got in the manor, but here it is staring back at me as if pointing an accusing finger. The headlines in bold red are splashed across the top, each word like needles to my heart. My vision momentarily blurs as I once again lose myself to the memories only to regain my focus on the headline before me.

Death at Wayne Manor

The words seem so inconceivable, so fantastic like something only found on the cover of an Agatha Christie novel. How could something like this have happened? What could I have done differently that could have warned me that this nightmare was going to invade my life like a vile plague?

Tomorrow night was going to be the night, the night that I told her and now I might never get the chance again. Why had it taken me so long to see what had been right before my eyes for the last two years?

A hand comes to rest on my shoulder and breaks me free from my tormented thoughts, the overpowering pull inside of me that demands that I do something. I turn my head slightly to my left in acknowledgement of his presence behind him, knowing who it is without looking.

"Bruce, I'm so sorry," Jim Gordon softly says to me. "We're doing our best to get all of this over with as quickly as possible, but I still need to go over a few things with you."

"I understand," I evenly reply, my throat dry despite that fact that I had been soaking wet just a few hours ago.

"I'm not going to drag you downtown but I still have to confirm some things."

I draw a ragged breath, releasing it slowly past my lips. I steel myself, clenching and unclenching my jaw as I draw upon the fury that surges through me. I can feel the man in me being suppressed as the darkness of the Bat takes over once more, like the moon eclipsing the sun.

"Go ahead, Jim."

The sound of my own voice is almost foreign to my ears, familiar and yet hollow, not Bruce Wayne, but not quite the deep rasp of the Batman either. I clear my throat in an effort to further pull myself together, but even I cannot deny the fact that I am completely rattled by what happened here last night.

"Now, you said that you were called away at approximately seven thirty last evening by an emergency at Wayne Enterprises?" Jim asks as he sits down in the chair next to me. "What sort of an emergency was it?"

"I was called because of a breach in our security systems. Someone tried hacking into our computer system to steal R&D data."

"And you returned at what time?"

"It was a little after one in the morning."

Jim looked grim, but apologetic as he scribbled some notes in his notepad. I know that he doesn't want to question me like this, but we both know it's unavoidable. I am the prime suspect in a homicide and there is no getting around that until they had gathered enough evidence to clear me.

In all reality, I should have been taken into custody like any other suspect, especially with all of the money that I possess. I could easily get out of the country and never look back, but I'm innocent and Jim knows that. He knows all about me and the secret life that I lead at night though neither of us has ever spoken of it.

"That's when you found the blood in the house, the broken furniture, and the body in the swimming pool, correct?"

I feel my heart clench painfully with the reminder of what I had discovered. It's a scene that will undoubtedly haunt my sleep for months to come. "Yes, that's correct," I murmur, unable to make my voice work with the memory still so fresh in my mind.

I lean forward, holding my head in my hands, trying to suppress the sickening shudder of dread that threatens to rise up inside of me as Jim continues with his questions. "And at what point did you call 911?"

"After I got her out of the pool. I attempted CPR, but it was too late. She…she was already gone."

The words stick in my throat like a thick knot of emotions that I can neither swallow nor bear to dwell on. It's all still so vivid in my mind—the water tinged with blood, the smell of the chlorine, the taste of it on my tongue as I had tried to revive her, the way my wet suit clung to my skin, the nauseating terror.

Although I trust Jim, consider him a good friend, I need him to leave, want all of these detectives and forensic teams out of my house. They have been here for hours, combing through my home and I want them gone—now.

I have to get out of here, to find the answers that I so desperately need now. Every fiber of my being is screaming for me to get out of here and find out who had done this…the fury teeming inside of me, my sudden unrelenting thirst for revenge that demanded to be quenched.

I would not stop until I had hunted down the monsters that had done this and make them pay dearly. The unexpected happiness that I had finally began to discover over the last six months had viciously been torn from my grasp and in its place was a painful void that only she could begin to fill.

I feared that I'd never be free from this pain ever again now.

"I think that's enough for now, Bruce," Jim sympathetically tells me. "I'm going to classify it as a suspicious death until we have further evidence. I'll be checking back in with you again as soon as I know something. I know that I don't need to remind you not to leave town until I can confirm your alibi and fully clear you."

I dazedly nod my head in response, hoping that they would all leave so I could get to work and solve this mystery myself. This was something that I had to do. I had to do it for her. I owed it to her. The thought of her causes my throat to constrict, stealing my breath and threatening my steel-like control.

Jim stands to his feet, squeezing my shoulder. "Don't worry, Bruce. I've got my men combing the streets of Gotham as we speak. We won't stop until we catch the monsters that did this."

"Thank you, Jim," I hear myself say, my eyes falling to the newspaper still lying in front of me, those striking bright blue eyes staring back at me…that smile that makes me forget my own name.

I find myself all alone now for the first time since I had come home only to find myself being plunged right into the heart of the most frightening nightmare of my life since I was an eight-year-old boy. The only sound now is the rain and the repeated cracks of thunder that nearly shakes the house to its foundation.

Despite the despair I feel building to near unbearable levels; I feel my resolve hardening like steel as my hands curl tightly into fists. She needs me to fight for her now more than ever and I will not let her down.

It's time to get to work.