Author's Note: We're approaching one year since I started posting Pure Beauty and I wanted to post at least once more before the new year. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. You make it worthwhile. I'm not nearly done and I'm not giving up, no matter how long it takes to write. Here's to the year ahead!

All named and recognizable characters used in this non-commercial work are the property of DC Comics.


I did a good job keeping it hidden from my daughter and distracted myself in part by focusing on our flight, but I had a lot of anxiety during our journey to Themyscira. I questioned whether taking her to the island—if even telling her about her mother in the first place—had been the right thing to do. Now, more than ever, I'm regretting that I did either.

So much is behind us now that we're on our way back home, but I know this is far from over. Even after my gambit with J'onn, I just don't know if Diana will follow us. I have to be prepared for both outcomes and I'm surprised by just how ready I am to carry on either way.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder about my own motivations. I can't tamp down the doubts as I find myself more and more sure that I don't want Diana back so much for my own sake as much as I want her to return for Caitlyn's. The thing I most want to avoid is for exile to be the only reason Caitlyn remembers her mother.

Holding my little girl in my arms and doing my best to comfort her as she sleeps, I hope that her own mind is at peace. I can hardly get my thoughts away from Diana's actions. There were no other witnesses and there was no preceding ceremony, but whether she realizes it or not, she sentenced our daughter to exile in almost the same manner her mother leveled it against her. For as many similarities as there may have been, it's the differences—more than anything else—that I cannot ignore.

When Diana was exiled, she understood and accepted her punishment, agreeing that she'd broken Themysciran laws. She cited no such laws to me or to Caitlyn, only that she needed to protect her people. As much as I can accept and respect that desire, she put the burden on a young girl who neither fully understood nor wanted to believe what was happening.

When Diana was exiled, Wally and Kent spoke out as voices of reason. I let her be exiled, but when she did the same to my daughter, I still stood by and did nothing to stop her. I can't ignore the differences, but it's the similarities I can't forgive.

Despite it all, no matter the reflections or internal debates I have, I blame myself for what happened. Diana decided and Diana acted, but I still bear the responsibility. I stood there and watched, waiting until the damage had been done before swooping in. I failed to protect the most important girl in all my life. Worst of all, I put both mother and daughter in the situation because I let the lives of Batman and Bruce Wayne mix when I most needed to keep them apart.

Looking over the co-pilot's panels before me and my seat beyond, I watch as the Batwing approaches the hidden entrance to the Batcave. I see the doors begin to open before Caitlyn moves against me and I tip my head to get a better look at her. "You awake?" I ask gently.

All I get is a sniffle and a nod in response. "We're almost back home," I inform her moments before we pass through the opened false cliff doors.

Finally, the Batwing comes to a stop parked on its designated landing pad. I look around and see Alfred approaching from the direction of the stairs up to the Manor. I check the time, see that it's still only about quarter after three, and figure that Tim is already back from patrol and in bed.

Alfred greets us as the canopy opens. I return his greeting, but Caitlyn stays quiet. After climbing back down and helping my daughter out of the Batwing after me, I take a couple minutes to change back into regular clothes while Alfred retrieves our bags. When I come back out, I find Caitlyn sitting in my chair at the Batcomputer, turned back to face the Batwing. A glance shared with Alfred tells me that she has maintained her silence since our return.

I walk over to Caitlyn and kneel down in front of her chair. "Want to head up and go to bed?" I ask gently. She nods in response, then lifts her arms to me hopefully. "Sure," I answer as we both lean forward. She wraps her arms around my neck while I lift her out of the chair with one arm under her knees and the other behind her back.

Together with Alfred, we head up into the manor, and then upstairs to Caitlyn's room. Alfred momentarily leaves my bag by my bedroom door on the way to my daughter's. He turns on her bedroom light as we enter, then begins to quickly unpack as I sit her on her bed.

As Alfred comes to a stop to my right, his task completed, I reach first to the small lamp on Caitlyn's bedside end table. "I need to talk to Alfred for a few minutes, Caitlyn, but if you don't mind, I'd like to sit with you for a bit after." She doesn't look up, but she does nod in reply. "When you're done getting ready for bed, just turn the light off, alright?" Again, she nods.

"Good night, Miss Caitlyn," Alfred bids as I pat the top of her head. She doesn't respond to either of us, so after waiting a few moments, I stand and Alfred then precedes me back out into the hallway. On my way out, I turn off the ceiling light and close the door, though not enough to latch it.

The two of us then take a few steps down the hall toward my room and he asks, "Whatever happened, Master Bruce? I expected you to at least be gone the night and I thought this was to be a joyous occasion. Were you unable to reach the island?"

"No, I think I was right about the barrier. It seemed that, with Caitlyn accompanying me, I had no trouble reaching Themyscira. It was what happened after we landed…" I begin to answer.

"Has something happened to Miss Diana or the other Amazons, sir?"

"Hippolyta is dead," I respond, stunning Alfred and feeling the guilt sweep over me again. "When…I got Diana pregnant, her gods decided to punish not just her, but all of her sisters. From the way I understood it, Caitlyn's conception made them all mortal. So long as she remains here, off the island, the barrier protecting Themyscira will protect them from the effects of the curse, keeping them healthy and ageless. For letting herself get pregnant, Diana was to die at sundown the day she gave birth, but her mother took her place.

"Diana succeeded the throne and has been struggling to fill her mother's shoes ever since. We didn't talk about it, Alfred, but I can tell she's truly fought to maintain control. I suspect she has her friends and allies, but made more than a few enemies after they discovered she was pregnant. She told me she first found out she was pregnant after a friend died. There was a training accident and her mother asked their patron goddesses why."

"My word! That's terrible, Master Bruce, but surely you must know you cannot hold yourselves responsible. I doubt Miss Diana knew such a thing could ever have happened when she arrived at our door."

"No, she didn't—we didn't—but Caitlyn blames herself for what happened. She wanted to leave the moment she heard that they're only mortal when she's on island. I might have agreed and, in hindsight, I probably should have, but Diana cut in and insisted we stay so she could get to know Caitlyn a little. How could I have said no?

"When we first arrived, I still hoped I'd be able to convince Diana to come back to Gotham with us, but once I found out what had happened, I suspected that she would feel compelled to stay there as queen. What I didn't expect was that she would be willing to exile our daughter to protect her people."

"Exile, sir?" he asks in disbelief, to which I nod. For a moment, Alfred is quiet, but then he asks, "What do we do now, Master Bruce?"

"Be there for Caitlyn. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Well, what of Miss Diana, sir?"

Before answering, I turn back to my daughter's door and see her room go dark as she turns her lamp off. "She might follow us and she might not. I'll hope for the best, but I'm not counting on it. I just don't want tonight's visit to be Caitlyn's only memory of her mother. She doesn't deserve that."

"Why are you uncertain? Master Bruce, your contingency plans have contingencies! Why aren't you sure Miss Diana will return to Gotham?"

"Because she's not here now. After the fact, I made sure Diana understood the effects of what she'd done." Preferring not to detail my actions to the old butler, I begin to turn away. "Excuse me, Alfred, I'm going to see if I can talk to her, or at least make sure she knows I'm still here to support her."

After a sigh, Alfred replies, "Very well, sir. Let us hope for the best, then. And do please try to get some sleep yourself, Master Bruce."

I give an affirmative hum while nodding, then we turn away from one another. Alfred heads to my room to unpack my suitcase before retiring himself and I make my way back to Caitlyn's room. I knock once on her door before opening it and walking quietly into the dark room.

My eyes adjust quickly to the low light and I see that Caitlyn is lying on her side, facing the window past her bed, her legs bent slightly. I stop beside her, rest my hand on her head for a moment, then let her hear as I pull a chair into place next to her bed. In my seat at her side, I close my eyes and wait. I feel confident she'll open up on her own, so I want her to know that I'm here and waiting for her to be ready.

While waiting, I manage to will myself into a very light sleep, letting my daughter think in peace and taking advantage of the time to myself. My rest doesn't last long, but she doesn't pull me back to the waking world with words. Instead, I hear a quiet sob and open my eyes to see her rubbing her eye with the heel of her right palm.

It's no less saddening to see now than it was in the Batwing, but I resist the urge to reach out and try to comfort her. She knows that I'm here and that I'm waiting for her, so I believe the fact that she's hiding her tears means she doesn't want to talk to me just yet. The thought doesn't make it easier, though.

At long last, my daughter speaks up. "Daddy?" she asks, checking to make sure I'm paying attention. I give a questioning hum in response and she immediately launches right in. "What did I do wrong? She said I didn't have to go, so why doesn't she want to see me again? I thought mommies were supposed to love their daughters and want to be best friends with them, so why does mine hate me so much?"

I want to be able to tell her the truth, but I don't want to hurt her with a shoddy explanation. With a contemplative sigh, I lean forward and try to reassure her. "I'm sure—"

"Don't lie for her!" Caitlyn yells as she turns away, laying on her stomach and muffling her voice as she buries her face in her pillow. After a short silence, she turns her head against her pillow, lifts a hand to pull her hair back behind her left ear, and pleads, "Please…not you too… Don't try to be nice, just tell me the truth, Daddy…"

After taking a full breath, I move to sit on the side of Caitlyn's bed. I reach down and rub my hand across her back. "She told me when she brought you here to Gotham that she wanted you to grow up with friends your own age. I didn't understand why at the time, but I did believe her and I still do. She does love you, Caitlyn. I knew it when she showed up at my door with you cradled in her arms and I knew it today."

"Well…then why doesn't she want to see me again?" my daughter replies while I work out the theories.

"She does," I answer, continuing before my daughter can interrupt again, "but she also feels compelled—that it's her duty, her obligation—to lead and protect her people. The Amazons are an ancient people, Caitlyn. Your mother was the only one born on Themyscira in at least the last two thousand years. Diana's own mother, Hippolyta, desperately wanted a child. The Greek gods allowed it, so she sculpted a baby girl from clay and with a few drops of her blood and some divine intervention, Diana was born."

"Are you…sure you're not making that up?" Caitlyn doubtfully asks. "It sounds like something some weird cult would come up with."

"Well, I didn't hear it directly, but that's the story as I heard it." I allow a short pause, then concede, "It does sound pretty weird, doesn't it?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, think of it as a simple version of the truth. Do you think your mother had a normal childhood growing up on Themyscira?"

"No, I guess not—I mean…I don't know. What do they even do all day?"

"In all likelihood, she spent most of her time training and studying. When we first met she was pretty quick to say the Amazons are all 'warriors born', as she put it. She probably started training earlier in life than you did and much more actively. She's good, there's no denying that, but speaking from experience, training that intensely requires sacrifice. For Diana, maybe that sacrifice was truly having a childhood, like you have, or even like I once had."

"I guess when you put it like that…but what's that got to do with her exiling me?"

"Because Hippolyta exiled Diana for bringing us to the island. That threat I told you about, it was a misguided man who turned to the dark arts and went to Themyscira to unleash the Greek God of the Underworld, Hades, upon Earth. Diana ended up saving us all in the end, but together, we stopped them both and sent Hades back where he belongs.

"Hippolyta honored us for our efforts and gave us those laurels, then exiled Diana—who'd left the island without permission six months before and who she hadn't seen since—for bringing men to the island. When it happened, Hippolyta said almost the exact same thing to Diana that Diana said to you."

Caitlyn turns her head away, dropping it flat against her pillow and looking past me toward her bedroom door. "Thanks for reminding me," she says sarcastically.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I do have a point in mind…" I watch as my daughter turns her head again to look back up to me. "My thinking is that Hippolyta was never really a good mother to Diana. Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt that they loved one another, but I suspect that she was really more of a queen than a mother.

"The Amazons have been removed from the rest of the world for far too long, have been too static to remember how to be a dynamic family, how to treat someone new. After all, what difference does twenty or thirty years make when you and everyone you know has been alive for a few millennia?

"We first learn how to be parents from our own, from growing up ourselves. Still—and don't take this the wrong way, Caitlyn—being a parent is as much a painful learning experience as it is a joyous pleasure..." I explain.

"No, I…think I understand what you mean," she replies.

"What?"

"That she never really learned to be a mom, right?"

"Exactly. That means it's going to be up to us to teach her."

"What are you talking about? Daddy, why are we even bothering to think about this? How are we supposed to teach her anything if we're here and she's there?"

I do my best to keep my voice calm and even to help temper my daughter's growing anger. "When we left Gotham, Caitlyn, I hoped we'd be able to bring Diana back with us, but after she told us what happened, why she couldn't keep you herself, I suspected she'd choose to stay. I never expected she'd go to the lengths she did, but I did take…measures…hoping to convince her to follow us."

"What sort of…measures?" she asks, copying my momentary hesitation while picking a word.

At first, I don't want to say anything more, leaving it a mystery for now, but I can't. There's nothing to gain from keeping it to myself. More importantly, I know it'd be better at this point to be open and truthful. "For starters, I wrote her a letter."

"A letter?" Caitlyn asks doubtfully.

"A letter."

"What sort of letter?"

"Well, I tried to explain what Diana has missed about our lives. I wanted her to understand a bit more about you, plus a bit on how I think I've changed for the better with thanks to you."

"Do you think that's really going to help?" my daughter asks. It's clear from her tone that she's a little disappointed.

"Well, if it doesn't…" I begin. In the short pause, I call out to J'onn in my mind, 'J'onn, have you got a few minutes?'

'What is it, Bruce?'

First, I continue my conversation with my daughter. "Caitlyn, I want you to think about Uncle J'onn."

"What does Uncle J'onn have to do with it?" she asks, more than a little confused.

"You'll see, I promise. Just call out to him like you would if he were standing across a room and you wanted to get his attention, but with your thoughts instead of your voice." After, I turn my focus back to my telepathic conversation with the distant Martian. 'If it isn't too much trouble, let me join in,' I reply.

'Join in? What exactly are you—I see. While I am happy to assist, please do keep in mind that I am not a teleconferencing system.'

A moment later, when I assume J'onn replies to her, Caitlyn jumps in surprise. After, I hear Caitlyn's voice in my mind. 'U-Uncle J'onn?'

'That's right, Caitlyn. As I am sure your father explained, I am in truth J'onn J'onzz, the last Martian, and I am often referred to as the Martian Manhunter. My people were telepaths, a gift that I have come to understand is difficult for many humans to accept, so I hope that you are not too alarmed experiencing such a conversation for yourself.'

'Are you…always…you know, listening?' Caitlyn asks with a mix of curiosity and concern.

'Yes and no. I have invited my closest friends and colleagues among the League to reach out telepathically to contact me should the need arise. I will respond if called, but I do not spend my time idly listening to the thoughts of others. One of Earth's earliest lessons to me was that it is considered terribly rude, an invasion of one's privacy, to enter into one's mind uninvited. Even now, I can hear the thoughts you direct to me, but I do not know what else you may be thinking.'

'Which brings us to why I asked you to reach out to J'onn, Caitlyn,' I say, joining the conversation and surprising my daughter, who jumps again. 'I asked J'onn to help me convince Diana to follow after us. On the way back in the Batwing, I wanted more than anything to comfort you, to reassure you, but I also knew that I could show Diana through J'onn and make her understand the full extent of what she'd done.'

Caitlyn buries her face back into her pillow before me and I hear her voice in my mind. 'Does that mean you saw me too, Uncle J'onn?'

'Yes. Through your father's eyes and ears, as did Diana.'

Somehow—and I'm actually kind of impressed that she can do both at the same time—Caitlyn whines in displeasure, both aloud and telepathically. After finishing, she speaks to the both of us, 'I really didn't want anyone else to see me like that…'

'I am sorry, Caitlyn. I did not mean to intrude upon you, but while I still have reservations about the methods we employed, I agree that your father's hope and goal is for the best and your mother did seem…disquieted by our actions,' the Martian Manhunter apologizes.

Before either can say more, I jump in to take the weight off J'onn's shoulders. 'In J'onn's defense, Caitlyn, he considered it an intrusion on both you and Diana and tried convincing me not to do it. I'm sorry too, but it was necessary.'

'I don't understand how that could have been necessary… Why couldn't you just write something about it in your letter?'

It seems that from here, the conversation will move away from J'onn's assistances, so I return us to spoken words. "Caitlyn, I couldn't have predicted what happened. There was nothing I could have written that would have illustrated as clearly how different Diana's situation was when Hippolyta exiled her to your situation when Diana exiled you."

After leaving it open for a short while in case Caitlyn wants to respond, I add, "Besides, when I wrote the letter, I didn't know what Diana intended to do." Caitlyn spends a few more moments in thought and I turn my mind back to J'onn. 'Thank you, J'onn. I think I can handle the rest.'

'Of course. I am simply relieved you confessed our actions to Caitlyn. I would not have felt comfortable keeping such a secret from her.'

'They aren't secrets I can take back. I've questioned the wisdom of revealing some things, but this was right to do. I have no doubts about that.'

'No matter what happens, Bruce, do not regret telling Caitlyn about the double lives we all lead, or about Diana. I am confident that no matter the uncertainty and pain you and your daughter may feel now, it will all be worth it in the end. You will both come away stronger.'

I get just enough time to respond with doubtful acknowledgment before Caitlyn rolls back onto her side, facing away. "You mean how different she is from me…"

"Yes," I concede.

"You do know that doesn't make me feel any better, right?"

"Caitlyn," I begin while reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder, "your mother is a remarkable woman, there's no doubt about that, but she doesn't know you. The decisions she's made and the expectations she has are based on what she experienced during her own childhood.

"I'm sure the issue of the Amazons' mortality is a factor, but giving you more than a childhood like hers is why your mother told me she wanted me to raise you here in Gotham. Maybe she believed that and maybe not. Maybe it was simply how she justified giving you up to accept that she had to. Even with all that we have learned, we don't know for sure.

"Remember what I said about perspective before we landed, about growing up here with me in Gotham versus growing up on Themyscira?"

"Yeah?" she asks in reply, turning to lay on her back and look toward me.

"Can you imagine what things would be like now, how different your life would have been, how different you would be if you grew up there?"

"…No."

"I can't either. Truth be told, I don't want to. And maybe—just maybe—Diana doesn't understand who you are because she can't grasp how much different life has been for you versus what it was like for her."

"And now we're back to waiting for her to come so we can teach her how to be my mother, right?" I answer Caitlyn's question with a nod and she immediately asks, "Well, how long do we have to wait?"

"However long it takes for her to realize she can't separate herself from you or from me anymore."

I want to be optimistic about our chances. I spent a decade trying to hide that I'm anything more than Bruce Wayne, but I do want my daughter to have her mother in her life, to know her for more than a bitter, fleeting moment. Yet, I can't deny that a part of me hates Diana for exiling Caitlyn, a part of me that holds the daughter we created together more important than the woman I loved and lost. Still, I won't disparage Diana or poison Caitlyn's view of her mother; it'd be an insult to both mother and daughter. Besides, Diana already cornered that market for herself.

"You're not really going to bed now, are you?" my daughter asks from beneath her sheets.

I smile as reassuringly as I can and set my hand against Caitlyn's forehead. "No."

"Did you ever?"

My smile fades as I pause. For the briefest of moments, I entertain the thought of lying, but quickly decide against it. "No," I admit while moving my hand to the top of her head and rubbing my thumb around her forehead. "Once I was sure you were sound asleep, I headed downstairs to the cave to prepare for patrol."

"Why does it have to be you?"

"If I never donned the cowl, none of us would be here now."

"I get that, Dad, but why do you keep doing it?"

"For whatever reason, Gotham attracts the worst criminals. Things have improved over the years, but there are still criminals the police can't—or shouldn't—handle on their own. This city needs me."

For a few breaths, Caitlyn doesn't answer, but soon enough, she does break the silence. "Can you promise me something?" After I give a prompting hum in response she says, "Promise you won't forget that I need you too."

"I promise, Caitlyn," I answer while leaning down. I plant a kiss on her forehead and we share a hug before I sit up and begin to stand. Turning back to her before heading out of her room, I add, "Good night, Caitlyn. I'll see you in the morning."

"You promise?"

"I promise that too."

"Thank y—I mean, I'm going to hold you to that!" She pauses while I suppress a chuckle. "Good night, Dad. I love you."

"And I love you, Caitlyn," I return before heading out into the hallway. I close my daughter's bedroom door quietly, but my hand lingers on the doorknob as a nagging thought crosses my mind once more.

My daughter is growing up. It goes beyond the rising series of marks on the height chart on the inside of Caitlyn's bedroom doorframe. It's not just the addition of bras to her wardrobe and outfits. I'm more than proud of her maturity and how quickly she learns to understand the things around her. All of that is natural growth, be it physical or mental.

What concerns me are the things that have changed that natural pace, some of them avoidable, some not. Her kidnapping and being forced to see the darkness in the world. Learning how much about myself I'd kept hidden from her. Learning about her mother and the nature of our relationship. Meeting her mother and feeling herself so quickly cast aside.

At the end of the day, I do want Caitlyn to have a relationship with Diana. It's why I didn't waste time after telling her about my life as Batman before going to introduce her to her mother. It's why, even after everything that's happened, I'm still hopeful Diana will come back to Gotham. But, every time my daughter calls for me, addresses me, or refers to me—every 'Dad' that would have been 'Daddy' even a week ago—I feel that I didn't make things better, I only made them worse.

"Caitlyn!" I searchingly call as I come to a stop at the bottom of the foyer steps.

"Hi, Dad!" she calls back, but I'm surprised to hear her voice coming from the living room to my left instead of from upstairs, in the direction of her bedroom. Not long after I turn, she comes around the corner. Her long black hair is down and I can tell from the elastic in her hand that she just freed it from a ponytail.

"Hi." I pause and we stand still and quiet briefly, but I can feel the question she wants to ask. "I thought you were upstairs. Just wanted to let you know I'm back from the office."

She nods in acknowledgment before asking, "Can you come take a look at my math homework?"

"Of course," I answer as I approach with a smile on my face. I put my hand atop her head just before she turns. Before dropping my hand to her shoulder, I save her the trouble and comb my fingers back across the top of her head to straighten her dark locks.

As we come into the living room and start down the steps to the recessed floor, I can see her things spread out between the sofa and the coffee table. There's a clear spot on one of the sofa cushions, a clear indicator of where she's been sitting. A few feet from the sofa, she jumps ahead and cleans up her paperwork so I'll have a place beside her to sit.

"Alright, what've we got?" I ask once we've both sat down.

"Algebra," she succinctly responds. I reach out and she offers me a clipboard with the math worksheet clipped in place.

Before I can even get to the questions, I swell with pride when I see my daughter's full name thoughtfully written at the top of the page. Her penmanship has only grown smoother and more confident with each passing year. Without diminishing Dick or Tim's accomplishments, Caitlyn's academic progress and achievements have always been a particular point of pride for me, even more so than it was for either of the boys.

Unsurprisingly, when I look down to the rows of problems below, I see a mix of numbers and step-by-step answers. Ignoring the discrepancy for a moment, I read through and double-check each answer. Finally, I turn the clipboard towards Caitlyn and point to her answer to the second problem. "Why do you just have ten here?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, concerned. She reaches over and pulls the clipboard closer. "Did I do something wrong? That's the answer, isn't it?" She reaches across herself with her right hand and points to the numbers as she calculates aloud, "Forty-seven plus twenty-three is seventy, divided by seven is ten. So Z is ten."

"No, they're all correct. I never said you were wrong, Caitlyn."

"Then I don't understand. What's wrong with ten?"

"Remember what I said about showing your work? I've had math teachers tell me they didn't care what answer I gave, they just wanted to know how I got it. If all you write down is the wrong answer, they can't see that even if you had the numbers wrong, you do know what you need to do."

"So, what, you want me to write it all out even when I do the whole thing in my head?"

"Even when."

She sighs disappointingly, but I'm sure she'll appreciate it in the future whenever she does get something wrong. I lift my right hand, reach behind her, and gently place my hand atop her head as she takes the clipboard and a pencil to start adding to her answers. She cracks a smile at the gesture, but unfortunately, she barely finishes writing out how she got to ten on the second problem before Alfred clears his throat from across the room.

"Master Bruce, Miss Caitlyn, you have a visitor."

We both turn and I have to admit, I'm surprised to see Wally West beside Alfred in the doorway. "Hi, Uncle Wally!" Caitlyn greets as she leans forward to put all her math work on the coffee table. "I didn't know you were coming over today."

"Neither did I," I admit jokingly.

"Well, I figured, you know, I haven't been over in quite a while, so it might be good to drop in and say hello!" Wally defends as he comes down into the living room.

"I'm sure Master Bruce didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome, sir," Alfred interjects, giving me a stern look as Caitlyn and I both stand.

"Of course not," I confirm. "Happy to have you here, Wally."

"Thanks!" He turns his attention to the coffee table as he comes to a stop before us. "So, what're you working on, Kiddo?"

"My algebra homework," Caitlyn responds.

"Oh, really? Want me to take a look and see how you did?"

"No need," I cut in to answer.

Caitlyn picks up where I left off to add, "Dad just looked at it for me."

I see the flash of concern color Wally's expression and I have to admit to myself that I'm impressed he picked up on it so quickly. "So, Caitlyn, how're you doing? What's on your mind?"

"I'm fine, I guess—I mean, I don't… What?"

"Are you still thinking about what happened with Joker?"

"Joke—no! Why would you bring that up again?"

"I'm sorry, it's just…I've never heard you call your father anything but Daddy—it's kind of cute. I wish Iris still called me Daddy all the time…instead of just when she wants my permission to do something when her mother already told her not to…"

Caitlyn scoffs and turns away. Wally tries to ask what's wrong as I realize it was the mention of Iris's mother that reminded her of her own. She tries to ignore him, but I wrap my arm around her and pull her into a one-armed hug. "Everyone grows up eventually, whether they want to or not."

When my daughter turns up to me, I give her a smile and ask, "Is there anything you want to talk to Wally about?"

She turns forward and drops her gaze for a brief pause before looking up to the speedster and finally asking, "How do you keep from crashing into stuff while running really fast?"

"What do you mean? You just watch your feet, watch where you're go—ohh! Oh… Ahh… So…you know, huh?"

She gives a nod but says nothing more. We're all silent, Caitlyn not wanting to say more, Wally very clearly uncomfortable with the situation, while I'm waiting to jump in if needed or wanted. Truthfully, I left the question open to Caitlyn because I wanted her to decide whether to tell Wally about Diana or not. That she didn't makes me think she's not even trying to accept what's happened.

Still, it's not something I'm about to bring up in front of others, even with as close a family friend as Wally. So, for now, I leave Diana out of the conversation and tell the speedster, "Not just you, Wally. I told her about all her aunts and uncles."

"Not to mention me!" a familiar voice calls from the far side of the room. We all turn, though while I already knowing who to expect, I'm still surprised by his arrival. "Afternoon, Wally, it's been a while."

"Dick!" Caitlyn exclaims excitedly, drowning out Wally's response.

"Hi, sis!" he answers as Caitlyn works her way out of my grip and dashes toward him. Dick grabs her by her sides when she's within reach, then makes the most of the high ceilings to pick her up off the ground. He lifts her until her head is well above his own before gently setting her back down on her feet and drawing her into a hug.

"Wow," Wally begins with a chuckle, "no bias at all in that reaction."

"It's all the LEGO sets and other gifts he brings," I jest.

"It is not!" Dick protests. "It's genuine admiration and affection, isn't that right, Caitlyn?"

Caitlyn laughs and for some reason, Diana's words come to mind and I find myself agreeing with her once again that our daughter does have a beautiful laugh. "Of course, Dick!"

"Be that as it may, what'd you bring today?" I ask.

"No gifts today, I'm afraid, but I'm not quite coming empty-handed." Before explaining himself, Dick drops down, crouching before Caitlyn, practically sitting on his heels in front of her. He lifts his hands to his little sister's shoulders and tells her, "You know, Caitlyn, I think that with everything that's happened, it'd be good to take a little time to relax—get out of the house for a little bit, get out of your daily routine, just go out and have some fun! So, how about we go into town, find us a nice, quiet restaurant, and just get dessert? You up for it, sis?"

"Sure! D-did you want to go right now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well…" Caitlyn begins. She turns back to me for a moment before looking to the coffee table by the sofa.

I lift a hand, hold it up, dismissing her concern with a halting gesture. "You're doing a great job on your homework. It's not going anywhere. Right now, this is more important, Caitlyn. Go, relax, have fun."

"You're not going to come with us, Dad?"

"No," I reply with a smile while shaking my head, "I'll stay here and keep Alfred company."

"Really? Well, if you've got the room… Dick, you guys mind if I go with you? I haven't had ice cream in months! Linda won't let us have any at home—says it makes the kids too hyper."

I bite back the sarcastic retort that immediately comes to mind. Instead, I answer simply in agreement, "Hmm."

Dick is one of a very select few who know what happened with Diana. Aside from J'onn and Alfred, I've told only Dick and Tim. I share Caitlyn's desire to keep it to ourselves, but I felt that her immediate family needed to know and J'onn has my full confidence. Dick made a good call, taking Caitlyn out for ice cream. I'm glad I told them both.

"Caitlyn, what're you doing up?" I ask surprisedly as my daughter, already dressed for the day, walks into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Miss Caitlyn," Alfred pleasantly greets as he turns from the sink. She returns his greeting as he begins to dry his hands with a towel. "Feeling better, are we?"

Caitlyn forces a small smile and nods, then turns back to me and answers my question. "Dad, I think I'm going to go to school today."

The answer leaves me torn between relief and worry. "Are you sure?" I can't help but ask as Caitlyn pulls out the chair beside me and sits down, clearly intent on eating breakfast and getting her own day started.

When I initially called Caitlyn's school to inform them she'd be out for the rest of the week, I thought we might stay on Themyscira through the weekend. I didn't expect our trip to be cut so short. I didn't expect why.

After helping my daughter to bed when we got back, I came to realize that Alfred was right about trying to reestablish old routines too quickly after trauma. I didn't want to push her back to school if she didn't feel ready to go again. So, I left it up to her to decide if she wanted to go back to school early or just wait until Monday.

Wednesday had been an easy choice. We'd arrived home too late to expect her to get a full night's sleep before she'd need to get up and ready for school, but even after waking up, she spent most of the day holed up in her room. We were all glad to see her more sociable on Thursday—and Wally and Dick's visit was certainly appreciated—but she still didn't want to go back to school and I encouraged her to stay home. I can't help worrying that she might not be ready yet.

"Dad, I'll be fine," she attempts to assure me.

Alfred comes around with a bowl and spoon, setting them out before her. A moment later, he returns to pour some cereal and then some milk into her bowl. Typically, school days mean cereal for breakfast. We save the hot meals for weekends and holidays to make them just a little more special.

"Caitlyn—" I begin gently as my daughter swallows her first spoonful, but she cuts me off before I can finish.

"Dad," she nearly exclaims, all but chastising me as if I weren't listening to her. The outburst lasts but a brief moment, then she adds softly while turning back to her bowl. "Nothing has changed. I just…know more about what's going on than I did before. It's like you said…"

We fall silent as Alfred busies himself behind us, no doubt listening closely. I'm sure he's waiting and ready to swoop in with sagely advice should I fail. I watch, observe my daughter as she eats. I notice the way she slows, gradually allowing for longer pauses between each spoonful and chewing more slowly.

Finally, she stops eating altogether. That's the tipping point for me. I reach past her with my right hand while dropping my left to the seat of my chair. A little push and my chair and I are right next to hers, and then I put my right hand on her far shoulder and pull her to my side.

"Daddy?" Caitlyn asks in surprise and I couldn't be happier for the slip.

"Of all the things in my life, I'm most proud of you, Caitlyn." I take a moment to let her absorb my words. "If you're sure you're ready to go back to school, then you've got my support."

"…Thanks, Dad."

It awed me the way life in Wayne Manor both got back on track and seemed undeniably different. We both returned to our routines, school for Caitlyn and the office for me. To the outside world, we acted as though we hadn't taken a secret flight to the Mediterranean. Yet everything now bears the weight of new knowledge.

I take a deep, calming breath. I'm standing in the middle of an empty, abandoned room. Behind me and nearly on all sides are yellow streams of police tape. The markings of a crime scene. No victim suffered physical trauma here—I at least saw to that—but psychological trauma…

This is where my daughter's life truly began to come undone. This is where I showed her a side of myself and a whole world that I'd strived on every other day of her life to keep hidden.

In my mind's eye, I can see the chair before me. In it, I see my daughter, still bound by the ropes tying her limbs in place. Both the chair and the severed ropes are gone now. Gordon's detectives took everything—the ropes, the chair, the knife, the gun, everything involved with Joker's operation—as evidence of the psychopath's most recent crimes. They want something to corroborate the testimonies, something physical to tie my daughter back to this place since I took her away before they arrived.

Without a sound, I turn around and walk out of the building, following the same path I took as I led my daughter back out under the open sky. I lift a hand to the air, fire my grapnel, and return to the rooftops. From there, I make my way back toward Caitlyn's school.

When I arrive, stopping on a rooftop overlooking the school building, my mind replays the day's events. What I recall, however, is not my experience, but rather Caitlyn's. My thoughts return to the interview I was present for, when Caitlyn recounted her day to Commissioner Jim Gordon, providing the most complete official account of her kidnapping.

I remember the sight of her, sitting beside me in a second chair opposite Jim's at his desk. I can see the turmoil as it was in her eyes whenever she looked up, whenever she turned to look at me as she talked. I hear her every word, as clear as day, as if she were speaking now.

"We didn't know what was going on at first. The first thing we heard was a lot of loud popping," I remember her saying. "It didn't last long at first, but then we started to hear more. Then the phone in the classroom started to ring and Mister Faas stopped class to answer it.

"He locked the classroom door right after he got off the phone, then told us all to stay in our seats and stay calm and stay quiet." I remember her stopping then. I remember the way she tipped her head forward, her melancholic expression. "No one really knew what to do and so everyone started getting…fidgety, I think Alfred would have called it.

"The popping kept going the whole time and someone whispered that it sounded like gunshots. Mr. Faas told us we really needed to stay quiet. He was trying to stay calm, but we could all tell he was scared and everyone kept whispering and talking about what was going on until we started hearing things from the hallway.

"I could hear some of the glass breaking from the other classrooms and I heard a woman and a man shouting at one another. Just after that was when he broke the door and came in."

"He?" Gordon had asked. "Could you describe who you mean?"

Caitlyn had turned to me for a brief moment, then dropped her head back down. "He was tall, but shorter than my Daddy is. He was skinnier, too. And he had a long, pointy nose and white skin and dark green hair and a…horrible grin with disgusting yellow teeth."

"Is this the man you're talking about?" Gordon had asked while lifting up an intake photo of Joker from Arkham Asylum. Despite the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes, my daughter had looked up to see, then nodded in confirmation while turning away. He pauses, reminding Caitlyn to answer aloud and once she has, he asks, "What did he do next?"

"He closed the door and pointed a gun at Mister Faas. When he pulled the trigger, a little flag popped out. He started…laughing…then hit Mister Faas with the gun and he fell to the floor.

"After that, he looked at all of us and when he saw me, his grin got even bigger, then he said, 'stay quiet, kiddies, and everyone'll go home with a smile on their face,' and turned to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk. He drew a big arrow pointed to the door and wrote 'Gotham's Dork Knight' at the other end of it, and then sat down at Mister Faas's desk.

"I was still scared, but at the same time, we started to think that was going to be the end of it, but then Batman shoved the door open and came into the room. He stopped right next to the arrow and looked at it. A few people around me laughed and I did too, once I got the joke, then Batman turned to us. Then Joker yelled at us to be quiet and flipped Mister Faas's desk forward before throwing the chair at Batman."

Looking down, I see the windows to Caitlyn's classroom. The broken pane has long since been replaced, but I can still tell which window Harley had used as their escape route. My mind jumps ahead to another part of my daughter's statement. "I screamed when he picked me up. He called me lunch money," she'd said and I remember how struck I'd been by her frustration, how appalled and disgusted and angry she'd been about being made to feel so small, so worthless.

I look past the window to the athletic fields beyond. My daughter's voice continues in my head, "He jumped out through the window carrying me. He took me around behind the supply shed at the end of the soccer field and put his hand over my mouth and told me if I knew what was good for me, I'd be as quiet as possible. They waited about a minute before Harley looked back toward the school and told Joker the coast was clear."

I grit my teeth, remembering how shocked I'd been. It hadn't crossed my mind that Joker would wait me out so close. When I looked outside, I'd figured he'd have done whatever it took to get away as quickly as possible. If I'd let my heart carry me out that broken window after them… If I'd bothered to search where Joker was instead of trying to figure out where he was going, I might have saved us all the extra pain, the heartache. Yet another failure I must carry with me.

"They took me across the fields to the street and Harley held me while Joker broke into a car. I remember I couldn't understand how he expected to get it running when it wasn't his, but it didn't matter; he got it running. Once we were all in, he started driving toward the Gotham River. He kept talking about how I was going to solve all his problems and about how Batman had forced him to resort to kidnapping me and how Batman was the real villain…and he just kept laughing, talking about how good things would be…"

In that short time between her kidnapping and our trip to Themyscira, Caitlyn clung to her anger toward Joker. After the fear subsided, it became clear that she hated him for how he viewed her, how he made her feel, but there was more to it than that. Though I never doubted my daughter's feelings, I realized after the fact that she was using her anger as a lifeline. It was one more thing to distract her from the implications of what I said in a moment of weakness before her.

"Bruce Wayne," I identify as my secretary transfers a call to my private line.

"Mister Wayne, yes. It's Aaron Faas from—"

"My daughter's teacher; yes, I know. Sarah told me before transferring your call."

"Of course. I'm actually calling about your daughter."

"Why? Has something happened?" I immediately demand with concern.

"Actually, I was hoping that you could tell me if something has happened. She hasn't done anything wrong, per se, but she's had some trouble staying focused over the past few days. I've tried speaking to her about it, but she refuses to talk about whatever it is that's bothering her. Your butler, Mister Pennyworth, referred me to you, saying you'd have a more complete answer than he could provide."

Before answering, I do nothing to hide it as I take a deep breath, buying myself a few moments to craft an explanation. "Yes…we've been having some issues. However, if Caitlyn hasn't said anything, then I don't feel comfortable going into detail. Without saying too much, we're still working through some things that came up after her kidnapping."

"Ah! Say no more, I understand," Aaron responds and I know I have him. As I expected, he allows only a moment of silence before changing topics. "I know we've discussed it already, but I just can't tell you how sorry I am that I couldn't do anything to protect Caitlyn or any of my other students."

I was there when the school was reopened following Joker's attack. Aaron Faas and I spoke that day and again when I picked up Caitlyn's coursework for the latter half of this past week. That was when I first learned how guilty he feels for failing to protect his students, especially my daughter.

I let him continue a little longer before answering truthfully, "Just the same, you know that no matter how many times you apologize, I'm going to say the same thing, Aaron. I'm glad you didn't fight back. I can't imagine the horrors you and your class might have experienced if you'd given Joker anything more than kidnapping my daughter to think about."

It's clear that Caitlyn has truly taken the need to keep our family's secrets to heart. She never even hinted to Jim Gordon that her father is Batman, though she more than suspected it at the time. She also hasn't spoken to any of her peers or teachers about it. Before I told her the truth, I think she didn't want her suspicions about me to be true. Now that she knows and with what's happened since, I don't think she wants her friends and classmates to know what her mother did.

"Alright, I'll be in soon," I answer before Lucius and I bid one another goodbye. I turn the phone off before handing it back to Alfred. "I have to head into the city for a couple hours."

"Shall I prepare the car, Master Bruce?"

"No, thank you. I'll drive myself. Have the time for yourself. Relax. I'll let Caitlyn know what's going on."

Alfred nods and then we both turn away. As he exits the room to return the cordless handset to its cradle, I head back to the living room sofa Caitlyn and I were sharing before Lucius's call. As I approach, she scowls down at her drawing pad and starts scribbling over part of the drawing before ripping the whole page out.

She begins to angrily wad the torn page into a ball. "Caitlyn," I call, interrupting her as she lifts her arm to throw the paper ball across the room.

"What?" she nearly snaps, but as she turns to me after, she visibly relaxes, her hands falling back to the art pad in her lap.

"Something happened regarding a research project at WayneTech. I have to go in to the office for an hour or two."

"But it's Saturday, Dad."

"I know, but it's important."

"Can I come with you?"

I sigh, knowing she was going to ask. Far from the concerns I had only a few weeks prior, my daughter has practically become my shadow, sticking close whenever I'm home and she's out of her room. "I don't think you should, Caitlyn."

Her disappointment is clear and immediate. "Why not?"

Normally, I'd rather not tell her what happened in a case like this, but after what happened with my own double life, I don't feel I should hold back. "A scientist at WayneTech has been sick for the last week. He died this morning."

"Oh…" is all my daughter says in response. Her chin falls toward her chest and she looks down towards her art pad.

"Still sure you want to come?" She nods in response, but I'm not really surprised. I consider for another moment before finally deciding. "Alright. Pack up what you want to bring. I'll get us shoes and coats."

After little more than a short drive into the city and an elevator ride up to the top floors of Wayne Tower, my daughter is at my desk while I'm at the head of the conference table in my office. I've left my computer on for her to use if she wants, but—unsurprisingly—she seems more inclined to draw today.

Meanwhile, from his seat to my right, Lucius informs me, "The medical examiner determined the cause of death was multi-system organ failure caused by blood toxicity."

I turn to the scientists down the table, colleagues of the late Dr. Samuel Giddell. "I thought you'd all made a lot of progress on Project Calypso."

"We have, Mister Wayne. We're confident that we'll have the toxicity issue solved within just a few more months' worth of work," the first scientist, a younger man in his mid-thirties named Lester Sterling answers.

His elder colleague, Dr. Jessica Miller, adds, "We've followed all safety protocols since the acquisition, Mister Wayne. It's highly unlikely that Doctor Giddell died because of exposure during his time with WayneTech. I believe the bulk of his exposure occurred while still working with Doctor Karos."

I nod my head in acknowledgment. From the moment I was informed of the good doctor's failing health, I already suspected what happened. "Alright, I want you to cease work on Project Calypso immediately and shelve it."

Both scientists balk at the idea and I'm not at all surprised by the resultant outbursts. "Mister Wayne, please! We've made more progress in the past few months than in the past few years! We're so close to a breakthrough! Just a few—give us two more weeks and we can complete Doctor Karos and Doctor Giddell's life work!" Dr. Miller argues emphatically.

"Bruce," Lucius tries much more calmly from my right, "they've got a point. It's awfully late to pull the plug on the project. We've got a lot of money in it, from the acquisition…to the materials…to the man hours… It's a pretty hefty investment to throw down the drain…"

I shake my head resolutely. "No. Doctor Giddell is the second to die while conducting this research. Maybe you and your team will be adequately protected if everyone continues to follow protocol, but I'm not willing to take the chance. I won't invite Calypso to claim another life."

Seeing that I won't budge on the issue, both scientists eventually relent. I know how important work on Calypso had become, how much it had come to mean to them both. Miller, in particular, had been fascinated by Dr. Karos's work before his untimely death. When Giddell finally sold his predecessor's work to WayneTech and agreed to stay on with the project, she was first in line to assist. Sterling, Miller's erstwhile protégé, had naturally followed.

I'd had my own hopes and plans for Project Calypso. I already knew first-hand the benefits such technology could bring, a lesson driven home by the dangers of it falling into the wrong hands. I pursued the deal with Giddell in part for the opportunity to directly aid my work as Batman, but even if nothing comes of the research, I'll still be able to keep the technology from being used against me again.

After making relative peace with the two scientists by offering them assignment to any project they're qualified for, I call an end to the meeting. Lucius and I spend a short while after they leave discussing the financial implications of my decision, as well as Giddell's passing, and then he engages my daughter in a short, friendly conversation—one that starts with a joke about her fitting right in at my desk—before he leaves as well.

Once it's just the two of us, I temporarily reclaim the right-hand side of my desk to wrap things up on my computer, then pull a chair around from the conference table and join Caitlyn as she continues work on her drawing. I may have had my back to her during the meeting, but I was paying attention enough to know that she hasn't torn a single page from her art binder since we arrived. Looking at the drawing, I can see the fruits of her efforts on the page.

"What happened after you jumped?" she asks as she leans back in my chair. I look up from her drawing of the Gotham skyline and the Atlantic Ocean visible beyond the buildings to give her a questioning glance. "After bringing me up to the roof," she helpfully explains just above a whisper.

We hold one another's gaze for a few breaths, then I point past her to the window. "I landed on the ledge there and came in through the window."

"What'd you do with the…the…" she begins, trailing off as she tries to find the right word.

"Batsuit—my outfit?" I supply.

"Yeah. Where'd you put the Batsuit?"

Taking a deep breath, I look up and across the room to my office door. "Here," I begin while rising. I cross the room, lock the door, and then return to my desk, motioning for my daughter to stand as well. "I'll show you."

I offer my hand to Caitlyn and, after she takes it, I lead her over to the back wall behind my desk. Opening first the secret panel to reveal the retina scanner, I explain, "While the Batcave is my base of operations, I have hidden equipment caches in properties throughout the city." After a pause to let the scanner do its work, I continue, "My office features one of the more complete caches."

The hidden door slides away, revealing the tiny room beyond. The spare Batsuit hangs on its rack on the far wall, beside it is a utility belt and a full stock of spare gadgets. To the left is the doorway to the second room with the powered zip line to the roof. On the right-hand wall is a Batcomputer terminal.

I put my hand on Caitlyn's shoulder and stand together with her as we look in from the outside. She is clearly impressed, but her first question catches me by surprise and her tone makes me wonder if impressed is even the right word. "How long has this been here?" she asks with concern.

"This cache?" She nods without looking up at me. "For the better part of the past two decades. Why do you ask?"

At my answer, Caitlyn's shoulders sag. At my following inquiry, she turns away and heads back toward my desk. "I guess—I don't know—I guess I still didn't want to believe that this was such a big part of your life."

Before answering, I take a moment to reseal the equipment cache. "Caitlyn," I begin while approaching her from behind. I pick her up without difficulty and sit her down on my lap once I seat myself in my chair. "Batman was my life for a very long time. I struggled with whether Bruce Wayne or Batman was the real me and…well… When you think about yourself, what name do you use?"

"What do you mean?"

"Say…say you blank on a math problem and you tell yourself you do know the answer or at least how to figure it out. What do you call yourself?"

"Caitlyn," she answers after nodding her understanding.

"Long before you were born, I stopped referring to myself as Bruce in my own head. Instead, I called myself Batman." Disappointment once again colors my daughter's expression. "That changed again after you were born, Caitlyn. With you, I realized it wasn't enough to be Batman.

"I used to think about Joker, Scarecrow, and Penguin—about all the criminals that threaten Gotham and their schemes—even during the day when I was with you. In many ways, I was Batman and, as needed, I was Bruce Wayne on the side. As time went on and you grew, I grew to understand how much you needed me…and how much I needed you.

"You remember when we talked about how we learn to be parents from our parents?" I ask, earning a quick nod in reply. "With where I was when you were born, I had no idea how to raise you. Your brothers and Alfred helped me learn how to remember my parents in a positive way, how to think back to when they were still alive.

"I learned a lot from them by example—things about them that I'd forgotten while I let myself fixate on having lost them, as well as things that I wanted to be for you. My parents would never have wanted Batman to be the sum total of my life and I certainly don't want this life to be yours. That's why, now, I can tell you that Batman is a duty, an obligation, and a necessity, but Bruce Wayne is who I am," I finish and there's no doubt about how happy my daughter is to hear my answer, how relieved it makes her.

We stay in my office for a little while longer after our conversation. Caitlyn decides she wants to finish up before we head home. I take the time to check my computer for any other business developments while she works, occasionally providing critique and commentary when she asks me if the buildings look right, if I think the water needs to be darker, and answer a few other questions.

Eventually, we both wrap up and gather our things to head back home to Wayne Manor. About halfway home, Caitlyn speaks up, letting me know I wasn't the only one of us paying attention to the other during the meeting. "Dad, what exactly is Project Calypso?"

I glance over before answering, see her looking back at me, idly playing with the end of her loose ponytail between the fingers of her left hand. "A revolutionary technology, but also a potentially dangerous one."

"What does it do?"

"In a word: invisibility."

Since returning from Themyscira, Caitlyn and I have developed a greater understanding of one another and a stronger connection than ever. We've both become more open and honest with each other and I can tell how much my daughter appreciates the feeling of truly being included. Despite her reluctant consent of our double lives and, indeed, her appreciation of it, I also know just how much she wishes her family was normal. A part of me wishes I could grant her that, the rest of me wishes that it hadn't all come at so painful an expense.

I check my watch as I come to a stop in the foyer. Seeing that we've still got plenty of time, I relax and take a few moments to straighten my jacket. As I finish, I'm surprised to hear a knock on the manor's ornate front door.

With Alfred busy warming up the car in the garage, I unthinkingly head for the door to answer it myself. For a third time, I open it to find Diana standing on the other side. Despite how rarely it's happened, for some reason I feel like I'm starting to get used to it. Her attire, on the other hand, is something I don't expect.

She's not wearing her Wonder Woman armor, she doesn't have the regal robes she wore when we last met, nor does she even have the cloak from when she left Caitlyn with me. Instead, she's wearing civilian clothing—and very casual clothes at that. Even before taking stock of her attire, I'm sure the outfit looks undeniably familiar.

She's got a blue jean jacket on over a low-cut cropped white shirt. Hanging just above her cleavage is a ruby pendant on a princess-length golden herringbone necklace. Glancing down I see she's wearing a pair of white dress pants held in place by a black belt with a gold oval-shaped buckle. Rounding out the outfit is a pair of olive-colored high-heeled boots.

Eventually it clicks in my mind and I figure out where I've seen it. She once wore a similar outfit, if not this one, stopping a small group of bank robbers. The colors are new to me, however, as the footage I saw was from a black and white security camera overlooking an intersection.

"Not exactly dressed for the season, Princess." Only after the endearment slips out do I remember its inaccuracy.

Diana turns, looking to the snow plowed up alongside the driveway and parking loop. "No, I suppose not, but I didn't take much civilian clothing with me when I returned to Themyscira." She pauses, wrapping her forearms around her exposed midriff. "Aren't you going to invite me inside, Bruce? It is cold out here."

"No. Not yet," I answer as I step outside and close the door behind myself, joining the Themysciran queen on the front landing. The humor leaves her expression and she frowns. "Why are you here, Diana?"

"Why am I—" she nearly shouts, outraged. After pausing to turn away and rein herself in, she glares sidelong at me to ask in a low, accusing voice, "After what you did to me, you have the nerve to ask why I'm here?" When I respond with expectant silence, she finally explains, "I'm not here for you or J'onn. I'm here for Caitlyn."

"About time."

"You're really testing me, Bruce."

"What kept you?" I ask, ignoring her.

"You and J'onn, you invaded my mind, played on my emotions when you knew to leave me well enough alone!" she exclaims while whirling back toward me and lifting a hand over her heart. As she pauses, she extends her arm a little toward me, closing it into a tight fist. "You want to know why I waited as long as I did before coming back? I had to make sure I could face you without throttling you!

"I didn't exile Caitlyn because I wanted to, Bruce. I did it because I needed to—to protect my sisters, yes, but more importantly, to protect her!" As she stops, Diana's hands dart up and she grabs me by my jacket. Her grip secure, she pulls my face towards hers effortlessly so I will have no choice but to see the anger in her eyes.

"My sisters loved and respected my mother. I slept with you and because of that, she died. I have enemies on Themyscira now, Bruce—I do, me—people who are more than political opponents, people who would have been proud to kill Caitlyn if given the opportunity. They'd have robbed this world of a wonderful young girl and they'd have seen it as a service to all of Themyscira; a sacrifice necessary to protect them, a sacrifice that Mother and I refused to make!"

'Proud to kill?' The words loop in my mind alongside an anger that can know no bounds. It all vanishes in a moment, replaced by sickening nausea when I realize that I lifted Caitlyn up and carried her through the city for everyone to see. One well-placed arrow from behind, or from a building overlooking the road, and one or even both of us might never have reached the royal palace.

"Why didn't you tell us, Diana? You should have at least had Artemis warn me!"

She lets go of me, taking a step back and turning to her left, looking towards the edge of the cliff and the Gotham Bay and Gotham itself visible beyond. "I thought it would be better if Caitlyn didn't know what my sisters think of her, of me, and of you."

"So you lied to her, lied to us, so she'd hate you instead," I say with understanding, much more of a statement than a question.

"I knew what I was doing. I didn't need you and J'onn to illustrate it." As she finishes, Diana finally turns back to me. She studies my expression for a moment before observing, "You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not." Truthfully, remembering what I'd told J'onn, I can empathize with her. I'm still not sure telling Caitlyn about her mother in the first place was the best thing to have done, but Diana being here now gives me the first bit of hope for the future I've had in more than a week. I can only hope that Caitlyn will see it in a positive light too.

Before Diana can ask me to explain myself, I decide to get us back on track. "You said you're here for Caitlyn. What do you want to happen? What do you expect? What do you hope for?"

"I want to know more about what I've missed and I want to be there for my daughter however she'll have me, for as long as time allows."

I nod in response, but then cross my arms, folding them against my jacket. "Good, but it's not going to be that simple anymore."

"What do you mean? Why not?" I can feel her rising anger. "You went to all the trouble of using our daughter's breaking heart to crush mine, you got what you wanted, and now you're telling me I shouldn't have come back?"

"That's not what I said, Diana." She calms, but I can still sense the frustration for my allowing the confusion to begin with. "You are Caitlyn's mother and there's no denying that, Diana. You also broke my daughter's heart when you exiled her—and you knew it. Whether or not it was part of some asinine lie, you cast her aside and when you did, so far as I'm concerned, you gave up your right to call yourself Caitlyn's Mom. If you want that right, you're going to have to earn it back."

The silence after I finish begins to stretch. Diana and I stare one another down, challenging each other and remaining equally resolute. Finally, I add, "I'm willing to put what you've done behind us if you're prepared to make the effort to be the type of mother Caitlyn has dreamed about having for herself."

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't prepared, Bruce. I'll do whatever I need to do to become a proper mother for Caitlyn."

Her willingness and her lack of hesitation encourage me and I relax. Closing my eyes with an amused humph, I smile. Holding the smile as I open my eyes, I refocus on Diana, who seems surprised by my change of demeanor. "This is your one and only chance to back out, Diana. If you maintain this course, you're certain to face the most difficult challenges of your life. Are you truly ready for that?"

Despite that I make no effort to hide that I'm half-joking, Diana deflates at my question. Her gaze falls toward my feet. She shakes her head and answers, "I don't know…" She lifts herself in the pause, standing tall and firm, and I can see her determination reflected clearly in her eyes. "…but I'm going to try."

As she finishes, the gate to my left finally opens as Alfred brings the car up out of the garage. He pulls to a stop in front of the landing and leaves the car idling, wasting no time before opening his door and standing up beside it. "Good heavens!" he explains as he makes haste trying to get around the car and up onto the landing with us. "It is so good to finally see you again, Miss Diana!"

Diana seems equally excited to see the old man again. She meets him a couple steps down and helps him up onto the landing before pulling him into a friendly hug. "I've missed you, too, Alfred!" She waits until they've pulled apart before asking, "Where're you all going? I've been meaning to ask Bruce why he answered the door already dressed to go out."

My old friend opens his mouth, but I cut in from behind Diana, "She'll be joining us, Alfred."

"Joining you for what?" she replies while turning to me.

"I warned you there would be challenges ahead, Diana. You're about to attend your first parent-teacher meeting."

"A what? What for?"

"Caitlyn has had progressively more trouble focusing in class and has been suffering from poor motivation over the last couple weeks. Her teacher refuses to overlook it any longer and so now we're going to meet with him to more formally address the issue."

"Why? What happen—" Diana begins, but I see realization flash across her expression as she cuts herself off and falls into a guilty silence.

There's nothing more I need to say to get the point across, so I'm happy leaving her to her conclusions. I turn back toward the manor's door and announce, "I'll let you get ready while I get Caitlyn."

"Of course, Master Bruce." After hearing Alfred's reply, I open the door and slip back inside. "Come, Miss Diana! Let's get you settled in the car before I fetch you a coat," I hear him offer just before the door closes behind me.

I cross the foyer floor and start up the steps. When I reach the top, I look down the hall and see Caitlyn at her door. She's leaning into her bedroom, her head inside the room and the rest of her body out in the hallway. I move swiftly down the hall, coming to a stop vaguely aware that old habits have kept my movements quiet.

I'm just about to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder when Caitlyn stands up and begins to turn, closing her door behind herself. She jumps when I come into view. "Ah! Daddy! Don't sneak up on me like that!" she chastises. I apologize before she asks, "Is Alfred already waiting out front?"

"Well, yes, but he's not the only one."

"What? Dad, Tim can't go. Doesn't he have class from four until six?"

"No, not Tim. Your mother."

The answer surprises Caitlyn, but she responds with more skepticism than excitement. "Really? She's here now?"

I answer with a nod, then add as I kneel before her, "I told her we were about to go down to see Mister Faas and why."

Before I can say more, Caitlyn interrupts me with a groan in exasperation at the reminder. "Do we really have to go, Dad? I don't want to talk about it and that's all Mister Faas is going to want to do. Can't I just stay home?"

"No," I answer, earning myself a sharp whine in protest. "Things have already come too far, Caitlyn. Now we're all going—your mother included—and we're not backing out."

"No! Daddy, I don't want her to go!"

I have to blink back my reaction. "Why not, Caitlyn? She's your mother. She's a part of the problem, she's here now, and I think she needs to be part of the solution."

My little girl doesn't respond, but she does turn away and I can clearly sense her frustration. I'm not quite sure why she doesn't want to answer, but I'm afraid we don't have the time to get to the bottom of it now. Hoping to refocus her on me, I put both hands on her shoulders. Fortunately, she does turn back to me.

"We'll talk about it with Diana on the way to school, but if you're worried about keeping our family secrets, I should tell you that I don't think we should broadcast that she's Wonder Woman either. Fortunately, she's in regular street clothes instead of robes or armor—though it's not exactly a winter outfit—so it'll be a little easier for us to keep that from coming up."

The reassurance helps, but I have a strong suspicion that's not the only concern on my daughter's mind. Again, we don't have the time to figure it out, so I stand back up while giving her shoulders a pat, then offer my hand to her as I return to my feet. "Are you ready, Caitlyn?"

"Ready for what?"

"To start teaching Diana what you've always wanted in a mother."

It's just as disappointing as it is unsurprising that Caitlyn isn't more enthusiastic about her mother's return. I gave her a spark of hope that Diana would come back, but as time dragged on, it became harder and harder to keep it alive. Still, she does finally answer in the affirmative, showing she's at least willing to give her mother a chance. That willingness gives me hope. It puts a proud smile on my lips as I take my daughter's hand to walk down the stairs and outside with her.

Once she's got her coat and boots on, we head out into the cool afternoon air. I look to the car as I lead her outside and see that Alfred and Diana are both sitting in the car waiting for us. I lift a hand to signal Alfred to wait while digging my keys out of my pocket with the other. Caitlyn sticks close to me up on the landing as I lock the door and then walk down the steps to the car.

When I open the rear passenger door, she hesitates. I keep the smile on my face and urge my daughter in before me with a meaningful tip of my head towards the car. She responds with a sharp whine of displeasure, but doesn't put up a fight and climbs into the car, sliding to the middle seat before I drop myself into the rear passenger seat beside her.

I look to Diana to find her already lifting her gaze to look at me as Caitlyn and I both fasten our seatbelts. We hold a short, silent conversation staring into one another's eyes before I finally shake my head. The hope on Diana's expression fades and she deflates, her eyes falling to the top of our daughter's head as she, in turn, looks down and straight ahead. Releasing a sigh of my own, I turn to Alfred and give him a nod to indicate our readiness to go.

For the most part, the car ride into Gotham is quiet and peaceful, despite being entirely uncomfortable. Diana spends most of the time shifting her focus back and forth between Alfred and the road ahead and our daughter. Caitlyn, meanwhile, keeps her gaze locked low. I get the feeling that something is going to have to give and eventually, something does. To my surprise, it's my daughter.

"Why?" Caitlyn asks in a low voice.

Confused, I give a questioning hum in response as Diana and I both turn to our ten and a half-year-old, but she turns to her mother and I realize she's not even talking to me. "Why did you come here?" she asks Diana.

The Themysciran queen hesitates for a moment, surprised, I'd like to imagine, to be asked the same question by both father and daughter. She turns away, looking out the window and down the Gotham streets as we continue through the city. She takes a deep breath and gathers her thoughts before finally turning back.

I watch Diana lift a hand to Caitlyn's shoulder as I've done so many times before. "I'm here because…I know how deeply exiling you hurt you…and I know now that I made the biggest mistake of my life."

Caitlyn pauses seemingly without acknowledging Diana's answer. She looks ahead for a moment and from my profile view of her face, I see that her expression is even. I'm sure she's trying to rein in her emotions, trying to keep from showing any response and tipping her hand. Why, on the other hand, I suppose I'll have to wait and see from where she takes the conversation.

At last, she lifts her head, turning away from me once more. "What do you want?" she asks next. I can't help but be shocked that she seems set to ask her mother the same set of questions I posed at the manor. Looking across to Diana, I see a smile forming on her lips, one not of humor, but pride, and that realization catches me off guard.

Before answering, Diana reaches across herself with her left hand, takes Caitlyn's left hand in her own. She gives our daughter's hand an affectionate squeeze while rubbing her thumb across the back of her palm. "In no matter what way you'll have me, in whatever way you want or need me, I want to be a part of your life."

Again, Caitlyn looks to the floor between her feet and the back of the front seat. Clearly, she spends the time in thought. When she next lifts her head, I expect her to ask Diana what she hopes for, as I did previously, but instead, she turns to me. Like her mother, she reaches to her right, taking my left hand in her free right. She squeezes my hand, drawing strength from me as she turns back to Diana.

"Dad told me that all the Amazons will live forever, that Themyscira is a paradise made for you. What's to stop you from leaving again if you get bored, or tired of me, or if things don't work out like you want?"

Diana smiles in response and shakes her head. There's no humor or pride on her expression this time, only a mix of sorrow and acceptance. I can't help wondering what she's done now, a curiosity that carries a sinking feeling of dread. Fortunately, I don't have to wait for her to explain, "No. There will be no going back. I did not rescind your exile before I left Themyscira. I cannot. It is for my sisters' protection, so that the Amazons will endure and live on."

Caitlyn squeezes my hand as she bristles. I feel myself echoing her shock and anger at Diana for saying such a thing after all that's happened, after all she's already done. Before either of us can respond, Diana turns more in her seat and releases Caitlyn's hand to lift her left hand to our daughter's cheek. "They will live on, Caitlyn, but without you...and without me.

"I've abdicated the throne. I am no longer Themyscira's queen, nor even a member of royalty. From now on, my fate lies here, with you and your father in Man's World."

The news shocks me and I see that it hits Alfred just as hard, his eyes widening in the rearview mirror as he listens closely from the driver's seat. 'So I guess she didn't tell him first…' I note to myself. I open my mouth as I turn my focus back to the mother of my daughter.

Anticipating my question, Diana cuts me off before I can begin to speak. "I am still me, Bruce." She pauses, turning her head to look out at Gotham again, this time through the windows on the passenger side of the car.

"I conferred with Athena and Aphrodite before I left the island. For now, I can still fly and I have all of my strength and speed. From the moment I left Themyscira and the barrier's protection, however, I became mortal. As I age, I will gradually lose my powers. Eventually, they'll fade completely."

The thought of Diana—of Wonder Woman—on par with a normal human at any age seems so impossible. The news shakes me, unnerves me in a way I would never have expected. Diana sees the expression on my face and smiles. She looks down to Caitlyn next and I can't help wondering how closely Caitlyn's expression mirror's my own.

"It's alright. I made peace with my new fate before I left Themyscira," she assures us. "When I conferred with the goddesses, Aphrodite spoke to me about my mother. She reminded me that Mother accepted my place and sacrificed herself because she couldn't stand the thought of outliving me. She always feared that I would die in battle and she would never find out, so my return was a great weight off her shoulders until she learned that I was pregnant.

"When you were born, Caitlyn, my mother told me how proud of me she was for bringing so beautiful and so pure a girl into the world. When she held you in her arms, she told me it was the happiest moment of her life and she thanked the gods for the gift of your birth.

"I didn't really pay her words much attention. I was having a hard time focusing on my surroundings, let alone sharing in her joy. As I rested and recovered, I was quickly overwhelmed, even consumed, by the need to get you to Gotham, to your father, and return to spend my mother's last hours at her side. I felt like I owed her that much.

"Over the years, I thought about Mother's words on occasion. I dreamt of a life we could all share together, but it always seemed so impossible. I was surrounded by matters of state, with political pressure that became open challenges to the authority I inherited. Verbal challenges became physical and before long I was forced to best my detractors in the arena. Eventually, I forgot my dreams, all save one: the day I might meet you again.

"Mother's words didn't come to mind again until you arrived and I saw for the first time with my own eyes the young woman you were growing into. After you left, Athena saw fit to drive Mother's point home. I understand what she meant now and no matter how selfish of me it may be, I don't want to outlive you, Caitlyn. Mother was proud of me for what I'd accomplished, for giving birth to you—a baby girl with such limitless potential—but welcoming you into the world wasn't just my mother's proudest moment, it was mine, too."

The car rolls to a stop as Diana finishes, an amusing punctuation to mark the end of her explanation. She's filled in more details to the story, but this is the third time I've heard her talk about the life she lived apart from us and I've heard something new each time. I can't help wondering how much more there is to know, things that she is unprepared or unable to share with us yet.

"Then take responsibility…" Caitlyn murmurs. I could almost laugh at the role reversal, at witnessing a child demanding a parent take responsibility, but I know from her tone that my daughter is absolutely serious. Before continuing, she lifts her head and her voice as she turns to her mother. "Daddy has always been here for me. If you want to be part of my life, if you really want to be my mother, then I need you to be here for me too."

"I will," Diana vows without hesitation.

I hear Alfred clear his throat, breaking the silence and the tension beside me in the back seat. When I turn my eyes to his reflection in the rearview mirror, he glances meaningfully down to the dashboard and I follow his gaze to the car's clock, the display still lit up since no one has opened a door yet.

Seeing that we've eaten up just about all the spare time we had, I reach for the door and swing it out over the curb. "Well, now is as good a time as any to start, Diana." Meanwhile, Alfred takes my action as his own cue and gets out of the car before I finish speaking.

The elderly butler's first stop is the rear driver's side door. Diana and I step out from either side of the car nearly in step and I turn back to find Caitlyn already in my seat. She swings her legs out and stands before me, then steps away from the door so I can close it behind her. I can't say her preference comes as a surprise.

Alfred and I quickly confirm our plan as Diana comes around behind the car to the passenger side. While the three of us are inside, Alfred will wait in the parking lot. In this weather, I'd worry about leaving the old man alone, but he's more than equipped should anything happen.

As we head toward the school building, Caitlyn seems to gain an unexpected enthusiasm. Her low ponytail sways side to side as she leads us, walking ahead of Diana and myself, opening doors for us and the like. Her initial request comes to mind and I have a feeling she's looking to either hasten our upcoming meeting to get it over with or she isn't as interested in giving Diana a chance as she indicated minutes ago. Diana, meanwhile, stays beside me, keeping her hands to herself and barely looking more ahead than down.

I'd almost rather not know what either woman is thinking about, but, like it or not, I have a feeling I'm going to find out sooner rather than later. After more than ten years, I feel I'm used to my daughter's way of thinking. I have no idea what to say to her mother that would help, but Caitlyn…Caitlyn I know I can talk to. More importantly, I know she'll listen. Most importantly, she knows she can talk to me and I'll listen.

Finally, we reach Caitlyn's classroom. Naturally, she beats us to the door and is inside before her mother or I even make it to the doorway. As Mr. Faas greets our daughter, I usher Diana inside ahead of me, and then close the door behind myself as I follow her into the room.

Recognizing the confusion on the teacher's face for what it is, I step around Diana and approach his desk. "Mister Wayne, I'm a little…"

Before he can finish, I gesture to Diana while beckoning her closer. "Mister Faas, this is Caitlyn's mother, Diana. Diana, our daughter's teacher for fourth and now for fifth grade, Aaron Faas."

The news shocks the unprepared Aaron and he fails to hide doing a double take between the two women. "Caitlyn's mother, eh? Wow." He pauses, extending his hand to Diana. "I must say I'm surprised, but it's wonderful to finally have the opportunity to meet you…Missus?"

Diana shakes her head as she exchanges a handshake with the teacher. "No. No titles. Please, just call me Diana." She pauses as they release one another's hand, then her eyes dart toward me for a brief moment before she asks, "Can you tell me more about the nature of this meeting? Bruce explained the issue, but I'm not clear what to expect."

"Ahh, yes…of course. Please, pull up some chairs for yourselves." He pauses, looking past me. "Caitlyn, would you please join your parents here at my desk?"

I turn back, see Caitlyn leaning back against her desk, her hands on the corners of the edge beside her hips. When she sees our attention on her, she stands up straight and turns away with a slight nod before grabbing her own chair. I grab a chair of my own from a desk in the front row and watch with some amusement as Diana picks up a chair for a brief moment before setting it back down and taking a step toward Caitlyn to help her navigate the aisle with her chair in tow.

Before she can interfere, I stop Diana with a hand on her shoulder and a slight shake of the head once I have her attention. Demonstratively, I then approach Caitlyn from behind and put a hand on her shoulder. "Caitlyn, do you want—" I get out before she interrupts me.

"Nope! I've got it, Dad!" she confidently assures me, for which I give her an encouraging pat while turning back to Diana with a proud smile.

When I see that Diana understands, I go back to the front of the room to bring my chair up to Mr. Faas's desk. Very soon after, Diana is sitting off to my right with Caitlyn sitting between us. Once the three of us are seated, Aaron begins by answering Diana's question, "As Mister Wayne said, this is the second year I've had your daughter in my class. She has always been an excellent student, but recently, her performance has dropped—precipitously.

"This isn't the first time I've raised the issue. Frankly, it's concerned me for some time now and I've let it go on for too long—at Mister Wayne's request—without getting some sort of explanation or seeing improvement on Caitlyn's part. I feel we need to get to the root cause and address the situation now, before her grades fall too much to be recoverable."

He pauses then, turning back to Caitlyn and me. "Now, I understand the weight Joker's attack and your kidnapping put on your shoulders, Caitlyn—and I know it's only thanks to Batman that I'm even here right now, too—but it's not something you should dwell on. A lot of people try to ask why someone might do something so heinous, but I don't think anyone can ever understand what truly goes through the minds of such criminals.

"The more time we spend thinking about them, discussing their crimes, the more media attention we give them, the more important they become, the more important we make them—not their victims, them. The best thing you and I can do—the best thing any victim can do—is learn to accept and understand what we suffered, let it be a part of us, but choose to define how important a part it will be by yourself, and then put it behind you and move on."

My gaze falls as Aaron speaks. The more he says, the more I think of my own past. I think of my excitement coming out of the Monarch Theater, I think of walking down an alley in Park Row, my parents, and then my mother's pearls as they scattered across the pavement. Even with all the memories I have been able to remember and lean on over the course of my daughter's life, that night is still not one I can just…put behind myself.

Nearly lost to my own thoughts, I'm pulled back when I feel a small hand on my own. Looking down to my lap, I see Caitlyn's hand on mine, sliding her fingers into the gap between my thumb and the rest of my hand. She gives my hand a supportive squeeze and when I turn my attention to her face, I see her watching me, her head just barely turned to me, and I thankfully return her affection as I close my hand around hers.

"No. I'm afraid there's more to it than that," Diana interjects. The three of us all turn to her and I notice her looking longingly at my hand wrapped around our daughter's. "There are some things that take more effort to move on from, but there are others that one cannot simply accept and overcome," she argues and I have a feeling she's speaking about more than even the hurdles all three of us have been a part of.

"Mister Faas, I'm aware of what happened here at school to Caitlyn and her classmates. I also know that there is much more to the story than you are aware," she begins to explain as she turns to focus on the teacher. "I was left to fill my mother's shoes when Caitlyn was born. I brought her to Gotham and entrusted her to Bruce in hopes of giving her a good life, a better one than I could give her on my own.

"After her kidnapping, Bruce brought Caitlyn to meet me, but I could not allow them to stay. For lack of a better word, I sent them home."

"The word was exile, Mother!" Caitlyn venomously accuses, never lifting her eyes past the edge of Mr. Faas's desk.

"Caitlyn!" I immediately, but quietly scold, needing her to understand this isn't the time or place. She jumps in response, pulling her hand free of mine as she turns up to me with an expression full with guilt. While giving a short whine of displeasure and disappointment, she drops her head back down and pulls her arms in close, clasping her hands over her lap.

"I was thinking about duty, about what I felt I owed my mother, about what I thought needed to be done, ignoring even my own best interests, let alone Bruce's or Caitlyn's. I wasn't thinking as a mother with responsibilities to her child, I understand that." Though she's turned to Aaron, I can tell her words are directed to us just as much as they are directed at him as she finishes by saying, "I'm here to be a mother from now on and I hope that Caitlyn will come to forgive me someday."

With that, I hope that we've said enough between the three of us that I can get another chance to keep things to the level of an at-home solution. Before anyone can add more, I reach up behind Caitlyn and rub my thumb and forefinger against the back of the base of her neck. She gasps in surprise, lifts her shoulders up, and giggles while turning her head to me. "Daddy!" she exclaims as she tries to lean forward and out of my grasp.

I stop once I see I have everyone's attention, migrating my hand to my daughter's shoulder. "Diana will be staying with us at the manor for at least the foreseeable future." I pause, gesturing back and forth between myself and Aaron. "We both know Caitlyn's homework is still strong, so we'll do what we can at home to help her. Give us another week to bring her grades back up and we'll see how things have progressed then."

As I watch, Aaron leans forward. He props his head up with his chin on his thumbs as he rests his elbows on his desk and clasps his fingers together in front of his nose. For almost a minute, he sits still, thinking, considering. Finally, he sighs and answers, "Alright. I'll let you go and we'll see where we are in a week." He turns his attention from me squarely on my daughter, "I need to see some improvement, Caitlyn. Please, pay attention in class—I know you've got it in you to succeed. I don't want to have to be the one to flunk you or hold you back a year."

Caitlyn responds with a hum somewhere between the affirmative and noncommittal. Across the desk, the teacher sighs and turns back to me. "Mister Wayne, could I have a word with you one-on-one?" he asks as I lead my daughter and her mother to our feet.

"Of course," I reply, masking my own curiosity and concern as best I can. I turn to see Caitlyn looking none too happy, though if it's over having to wait for me or over the course of the meeting, I'm not entirely certain. "You go ahead, Caitlyn. You and your mother can go keep Alfred company till I join you."

When I lift my eyes to Diana, intent on confirming the plan with her, movement from below catches my attention. Looking down, I see Caitlyn slipping around me, heading for the door back out to the hallway. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her," Diana assures me before following after our daughter.

Diana closes the door on her way out and I hear her call after Caitlyn in a tone somewhere between a request, an appeal, and a plea. A moment later, she passes by the window as she begins her pursuit. Once she's out of sight, Aaron finally speaks up.

"I have to admit, I've always been curious as to who Caitlyn's mother is. I also never doubted that a mother figure would do wonders for your daughter, but…is she really…"

Though he trails off, I know what he's trying to ask. Hoping to put the issue to rest but sure that it won't, I answer, "Yes, Diana is Caitlyn's mother."

"Not to offend you, Mister Wayne, but how can you be so sure?"

"I know for a fact that Caitlyn is as much my child as she is Diana's. That's all anyone needs to know." I don't bother adding mention of the paternity tests I had done, nor do I explain the changes to my will or the trusts I've set up to protect my Caitlyn's future. Besides, that's all really more about my paternity rather than Diana's maternity.

"I'm just…concerned. I would never have expected to see how much animosity your daughter seems to hold for Miss…"

For a few moments, I lose myself to my own thoughts on Caitlyn's relationship with her mother. Finally, I realize that Aaron is expecting a response from me, something to call Diana other than by her first name. "Prince—" I manage to let slip out before I realize what I'm doing and cut myself short.

I nearly curse myself for the mistake, but Aaron immediately puts it together without realizing what I almost did. "Miss Prince, of course."

"Yes," I respond to keep from arousing suspicion, "I'm concerned as well, but Diana's just…not used to having an ordinary life like we are. She really didn't know Caitlyn enough to see how different she was from our daughter growing up.

"You and I both know that Caitlyn is very bright for her age. As smart as she is, I wasn't sure I could help her understand what happened on my own. All I could do was meet her on the roof of Wayne Tower after Batman saved her.

"I thought that maybe it'd be easier if I didn't have to do it alone. I know I have Alfred and a lot of family and friends to rely on, but I thought it would be more helpful for Caitlyn to learn more about herself, about her family, and about her mother. I'd hoped that it would be better for her to meet her mother and I wanted to bring Diana back to Gotham with us so that, together, we'd be able to help Caitlyn get through everything.

"Things didn't quite go as planned. You and I know how that went, Caitlyn's grades pretty much spell it out for us." I pause, turning back toward the doorway and the window I last glimpsed Diana through. "I'm glad Diana's here with us now, but my first priority is to my little girl. I just need some time to get her used to having a mother and I need some time to get Diana used to being one."


Author's Note: We're in for a treat starting in the next chapter: variation! I don't want to say too much, but the next chapter has been in the works for quite some time. It's something new for me and there's more than a few scenes in particular that I'm looking forward to.