A/N :- Huntress has always been one of my favorite superheroines, both as Helena Bertilleni and as Helena Wayne. Maybe because she is a vigilante among vigilantes and maybe because her ruthlessness makes for a refreshing change.
This story follows the Helena of Earth-2 following the relaunch of the character following the events of Flashpoint and The New 52 (not to be confused with the previous 52 relaunch; I swear its getting hard to keep them straight).
In this universe, Helena Wayne is the daughter of Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. There has been no mention of Richard Grayson in this timeline, so I assume he was never adopted. Helena was trained as the primary and only Robin. She doesn't adopt the identity of Huntress until much later. The story mostly follows the canon from the Earth-2, the World's Finest storylines involving Power Girl and Huntress and the six issue Huntress miniseries, though I have made some changes.
This story explores what might have happened to Helena that causes her to abandon her father's no-kill policy and develop a more ruthless persona, and yet keeps her from falling completely into darkness.
-xXx-
She is eight when she first understands the concept of loss.
It starts with Alfred. A week after Helena's birthday, he had gotten a message that an old friend of his had passed away. Looking back years afterwards, what Helena can remember most vividly is the sight of Alfred's face turning ashen and his hand shaking so badly that her father pours him a whiskey to steady his nerves. Over the years that Alfred served as the Wayne's butler, Helena has seen Alfred deal with a lot of crises, usually involving her parents' 'other' life. Throughout it all, he has always remained calm, composed and unflappable, the proper English butler. She has never seen him so distraught.
It must have been a special friend because Alfred goes to bed early that night. Helena never did find out who they were or why they were so special to Alfred that their death would affect him this much.
She doesn't think too much of it first. After dinner she goes to see if he is alright. However when several minutes of knocking yield no results, she finally gives up and goes off to bed, nothing wrong in her little world.
When she comes down the next morning for breakfast, the first thing she notices is the absence of smell from Alfred's cooking. Further check reveals that the kitchen is untouched from the night before and there is no sign of Alfred. In all her eight years, Helena can't remember a single instance when she came down to kitchen in the morning and did not find Alfred fixing breakfast for the family.
She is still sitting puzzled at the kitchen table, unsure of what she is supposed to do when her mother comes in, a few minutes later, stretching and yawning from another late night out. Her mother is apparently just as surprised as she is to find Alfred absent. With no Alfred to make breakfast, her mother proceeds to fix a bowl of cornflakes for Helena. Helena has never had cornflakes before, though her mother occasionally made some for herself. Alfred had always disapproved of fast food, insisting that a 'proper' meal included a balanced diet cooked from fresh ingredients.
An hour later, her father comes down for his customary brunch. She overhears them debating whether to check on Alfred and finally they decide to let him get a sleep in. As morning turns into afternoon and afternoon turns towards early evening, her parents start to grow concerned. Finally her father picks the lock on the door and enters Alfred's room to find him stretched out on the bed, still in his pajamas. Helena is startled and more than a little scared when her father orders her mother to get Helena away from there. She can't understand why her father is tense all of a sudden, or why her mother's hand is shaking on her shoulder as she leads Helena away.
Later that day, her parents sit her down and gently explain to her that Alfred won't be with them anymore. Her mother tells her that Alfred has gone to a better place. A heart attack they tell her. Alfred was getting on his years and his heart just gave out. Helena knew that Alfred had worked for their family since before her father was born, but somehow she had never thought of him as an old man and certainly not a frail one.
Helena doesn't quite grasp the concept of death yet. Not really. She asks if it hurt to die. Her father assures her that it was painless. Alfred simply went to bed the night before and didn't get up the next morning. Helena is sad but she tries to put on a brave face for the rest of the day.
It lasts until dinner.
Dinner is a subdued affair. Helena recognizes the food as takeout from their usual restaurant. For all their expertise, both her parents are hopeless when it comes to cooking. Alfred once remarked that he couldn't understand how someone capable of conducting the most delicate chemical synthesis procedures could manage to make a mess of the simplest of recipes. For that reason, the kitchen had always been Alfred's exclusive domain.
It is not until then that Helena realizes that Alfred is not coming back. Alfred is gone, gone someplace where she would never see him again, like a candle flame that has been snuffed out of existence , and for the first time she realizes the enormity and finality of death.
She dashes out of her chair, abruptly and without warning, and runs howling into the house. After a frozen beat, her parents follow calling out to her and growing increasingly frantic at the lack of replies until Bruce finds her in his and Selina's bed, huddled under the covers with Selina's cat Amber clutched tightly against her chest. It takes him and Selina a good half an hour to coax their daughter out from under the covers and a few more to get her to stop crying.
This would be her first brush with tragedy, but by no means the last.
The day of the funeral is bright and sunny, oddly at contrast with the somber event unfolding in the Wayne manor grounds. Helena refuses to come out of the house. She sits alone in her room, in the black dress that her mother had laid out for her with the bedcovers drawn up to her chin, staring off into space and no amount of cajoling is sufficient to shake her from her trance. She doesn't want to leave the room, she doesn't want to go outside, she doesn't want to see Alfred lying in the casket and she doesn't want to hear the speeches because then that would mean that he is well and truly gone and she is not ready to face that. Not yet. Not ever
As the family of the deceased, her parents need to be outside for the funeral, so her Uncle Clark, Aunt Lois and Aunt Diana take turns keeping her company for the duration of the funeral. Uncle Clark and Aunt Lois try to talk to her, trying to coax her out of her shell.
It doesn't work.
Their words make no more sense than bees buzzing around Helena's ears. She doesn't hear them. She doesn't want to hear them. Alfred is gone and nothing will ever be okay again. Aunt Diana on the other hand doesn't say a word. She settles Helena onto her lap and just holds her close without speaking.
Helena remains in her room for weeks afterwards, hardly ever stepping outside except for school. Her parents check in on her several times a day, but otherwise they leave her alone, content to wait her out. Finally about a month after Alfred's funeral, her mother finally puts her foot down.
Early one Saturday morning, Selina walks into her daughter's room and without a word, pulls aside the curtains covering the large bay windows. Helena flinches at the sudden light and burrows deeper under the covers.
"Uh-uh, kitten," Selina says in a sing-song voice. "We'll have no oversleeping in this house."
With that she unceremoniously pulls the covers off the bed. Helena jerks from the sudden contact with cold air and opens her eyes to glare blearily at her mother.
"Go away," she bites out, burrowing into her pillow and fisting it into a tight grip before her mother can jerk that away too.
"No can do, kitty cat," Selina says, unconcerned by her tone. "You and I are going grocery shopping and then we're making lunch for Daddy. Now hurry up. It's a beautiful day and time's a-wasting."
"I can't cook," Helena says into her pillow.
"No worries," Selina says cheerfully. "I'll teach you."
"You can't cook either," Helena says, turning to glare at her. "Alfred says that you can't cook water."
"I've been learning," Selina replies, choosing to overlook her daughter referring to Alfred in the present tense. "I've gotten pretty good at it too."
"I don't wanna," Helena says with a hiccup, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. She wants to tell her mother. There is so much she wants to tell her mother. How it feels wrong to walk around the house, knowing that Alfred's not in it. How food tastes all wrong, knowing Alfred didn't make it. And Helena just wants to hide from it all, in her room where it is safe and comforting and familiar. She tries to tell but she can't find the words to explain.
She doesn't need to. Her mother understands.
"Oh, honey, I miss him too," Selina sighs, "But you can't stay in here forever."
Helena can't see why not. It has worked quite well so far.
"Sweetie, when you grow up you'll have lots of people coming and going from your life," Selina says gently. "No one can stay with you forever. Sooner or later, life or death will take them away from you. You've got to learn to be able to stand on your own feet. It's harsh and it's painful but that's life. All you can do is to hold the people you love in your heart and appreciate the time that you did get to spend with them. And the best way to honor the memory of those who have passed on is to live your own life to the fullest." She tilts Helena's chin up. "Alfred wouldn't want you to sit in here moping. He would want you to live your life; he would want you to be happy."
Helena's face crumples. Selina pulls her into her lap and holds her close, trying desperately to rein in her own tears as her daughter finally breaks down and cries for the first time since the funeral.
A week later, Selina starts training her in basic hand to hand combat.
A/N :- As I said in the beginning, this will mostly follow canon, though I am going to make some changes involved. This was the first step in Helena's walk on the dark side.
Please review. Constructive criticisms are welcome.
More to follow.