Title: What Lies Ahead: XXV
Author: DC Luder
Rating: T
Summary: The Family changes forever… in more way than one.
Author's Note:
^V^
In loving memory of Sgt. B.L. Consler, USMC Ret.
July 4, 1983-September 17, 2008
For B-Rad, I know you're rocking the Hell out of Heaven…
^V^
I had stared down sociopaths.
"Frank, sit."
Murderers.
"Frank, sit."
Rapists.
"Frank… sit."
"That is one finely trained animal, Jim," Dick smirked as he peered over the edge of the table.
Even though Frank had not even thought about sitting, I gave him a scrap of dark turkey meat. As I wiped my hand on the linen napkin in my lap I replied, "That he is… when I give the command for attack he… ahem… he answers the door."
Frank proceeded to resume his coughing fit, his own unique variation of begging. When I told him to go lie down, he looked up at me, blinked twice then about faced and began begging from Dick.
Since before Bruce and Selina were married, I, as well as Barbara, had attended Wayne Manor for Alfred's masterfully performed Thanksgiving dinners. Before then, Barbara and I would share dinner together at the Clocktower… that was as long as Gotham could behave herself for one night. On those nights, I found myself picking through the dinner that those on call at headquarters had whipped together.
With my entire family finally residing within the Gotham City limits, I decided it was time to have a Gordon Thanksgiving dinner. Barbara and Dick offered to cook and Jim and Maureen offered to host while I offered my babysitting services.
Born two days before her due date, Sarah Elizabeth Gordon came into the world with wisps of caramel hair, shimmering blue eyes and lungs filled with piercing cries. Although my son had offered to have me in the delivery room, I had replied, "Once is enough for me."
Mother and daughter were released two days later and arrived home to countless pink balloons, stuffed animals and smiling faces. I couldn't help but think of when Nathan had come home from the hospital, the relief we all had felt after enduring two months of worry. But with Sarah, there hadn't been a concern in sight as she had been born ready to take the world on.
A true Gordon.
Just over a month old, she was still as loud as the day she was born. Poor Maureen tried to pretend it didn't bother her but I could see her nerves rattle with every approaching diaper change and feeding. As we sat in their living room, Jim walking around patting his daughter's back gently, Maureen had asked, "Was Jim bad?"
I shook my head, "Not at all… Of course, when his mother wasn't looking I'd give him some Bailey's in his bottle."
Jim had laughed, "No wonder I love Irish Coffee."
I had to admit, as much as I enjoyed spending time with Bruce and the Family, it was nice to have dinner with just us for the first time.
And the last…
After ending my radiation a few months earlier, I had certainly been able to reap the benefits of not having the side effects from the treatment. I was filled with energy after only two weeks and quickly returned to working almost every day. Also, I was finally able to resume my thrice daily walks with Frank, of which I had missed significantly.
But the honeymoon didn't last long.
Without the radiation maintaining the cancerous cells, they had quickly spread to my lymph nodes and had recently invaded my liver. With Barbara constantly after me to resume treatment, I appeased her as much as I could by still seeing a respiration therapist and by using oxygen as much as possible. Also, at her request and practical threat, I went in weekly to have my pleural cavity drained of fluids, of which required a permanent chest tube that was inserted a few inches below my arm pit.
My last appointment had been with my original oncologist, Dr. Haines. He had done a CT scan of me from head to toe, in order to ascertain the progression of the metastasis. Once the monstrous machine had examined me, he came into the room and helped me off of the narrow bed.
"Well?" I asked.
The look on his face answered my question before words came to his lips.
I decided not to update anyone, not wanting them to fuss over me anymore than they already had been. It was bad enough that Barbara practically lived at the house with me, leaving nights that I was well enough to be alone in order to help save Gotham. I knew it was lying and I knew it was wrong but I couldn't stand the "walking dead" look they tried to hide from their faces…
Another pair of faces that were also absent from the Thanksgiving feast at Wayne Manor were those of Tim and Cassandra. From what Dick had said, they had voluntarily opted to join Jack and Dana Drake for dinner. I knew well enough that Tim and his father weren't close but even still it was good to see the young man reaching out to his father.
With Dick joining us for dinner, it left only Bruce, Selina, the children and of course Alfred to spend the evening together. As a result, Alfred had arranged a Thanksgiving brunch to allow the Family to celebrate together as a whole. When Barbara had extended an invitation to me the week before, she had quoted the gentleman's gentleman as saying, "After finally getting Master Bruce to enjoy family gatherings, far be it for me to see him miss out on a single one due to a conflict in schedules."
Despite the dreary week that had preceded Thanksgiving, that Thursday had seen a cloudless sky and a high of forty degrees. Although brunch was scheduled for ten in the morning, I had ridden up an hour early with Barbara and Dick. Jim and Maureen had chosen to sit this one out in order to tend to their little bundle of screaming infant joy.
A bit brisk when we first arrived, we gathered in the main den of Wayne Manor with Selina as well as Tim and Cassandra. Mattie was reportedly helping Alfred in the kitchen and Bruce was trying to tire Nathan out in the back yard. After taking a cup of coffee and a small croissant, I excused myself and began to wander the ground floor. By the time I had reached the wrought iron and glass doors that lead to the rear patio, the coffee and baked treat was gone.
Over the last few years, I had associated the patio not with the summer dinners or birthday parties held at the Manor. Instead, my mind always went back to Bruce sitting on a chair, staring off into the distance… not an hour after I had punched him square in the jaw. It seemed like ancient history, accusing him of sleeping with another woman while seeing my daughter. Of Dick arriving at the restaurant, corralling myself and a very pissed off and pregnant Selina into his squad car.
Of Dick apologizing for lying to me, for telling me that Batman had died.
Ancient history…
I paused before stepping out of the warmth of the house, scanning the vast open space for any sign of father and son. I felt myself smirking as I finally saw the little boy race by, his arms locked firmly around a football. Mere feet behind him, his father jogged counting down the yards to an invisible touchdown. Bruce had never been one for sports outside of randomly visiting private boxes held in his name for nearly every event in Gotham. But from what I had seen for myself and from my daughter's reporting, Nathan had taken to the idea of athletics on his own.
After brunch, I asked Nathan what he wanted to be when he grew up and he proudly declared, "Showt-stop."
Dick walked by and planted a hand on his much younger sibling's head, "Well, you're already short, now you just have to be able to stop."
As I watched the sibling squabble begin, I hoped silently that Dick would show his own children such love.
Someday…
^V^
"I think I OD'd today…"
Batman remained motionless for a moment, then adjusted his binoculars as he focused them on a filmy window across the street, "On what?"
"Everything," I said, just short of moaning. "Babs made this unbelievable stuffing… and then the sweet potato… And I had a whole turkey leg… and breast," I stifled a yawn, "Turkey always kills me."
He seemed to ignore me but actually responded, "I had ham."
I mocked him silently, and then said, "Who has ham on Thanksgiving?"
Batman returned his binoculars to his belt before rising to his full height, "People who have to be up all night."
Although he and Cass has celebrated Thanksgiving dinner with his father and step-mother, he had confessed that afterwards they had gone to Wayne Manor to gorge themselves on fine cuisine. I had laughed when he had told me and he had snapped, "It's not funny… how do you ruin sweet potatoes?"
As he began to walk to the roof's edge, I said, "Still… ham? I mean, I know Al makes a mean honey roast but it's nothing considering what the man can do with a bird… Did he put those little white booties on it?" He nodded and touched the side of his cowl, no doubt checking in on any police reports. I sighed, "I love the booties."
My comm. link sounded, "That's good to know, dear."
"No... I meant… not those booties… your bootie… my love," I tried to cover to my wife.
Even from a few yards I saw the corner of Batman's lips twitch upwards. Without a moment's hesitation, he leapt off of the building, arcing the jump by holding his cape taut. The goons in the building across the street had been packing drugs into down comforters and pillows for the last half hour.
"It's been quiet, I think I'm going to go back over to Dad's, stay the night."
"Is he okay?"
She paused, "Yeah but… I just… I just feel like I need to be with him right now."
Nodding, I thought about the conversation she and I had the other day. While we sat on the couch sharing hot cocoa and brownies, she had asked if I would have wanted to know that my parents were going to die.
Not exactly cuddly, couch, cocoa conversation.
I had thought for a minute before answering, "In a way, it would have been nice to have been able to say good bye and that I loved them and that I was sorry for using my dad's moustache comb on the elephant's tail…" a fraction of a smile came to her lips as I continued, "But I don't know… I think, I think knowing would be worse."
Barbara had gently set the mug down on a coaster before nodding, "It is…"
Although Jim was still fairing pretty well, without treatment it was only a matter of months, maybe even weeks before the cancer claimed him. Since we had found out he was sick, I had done my best to keep up on symptoms, stages, treatments… somehow trying to tame my fears by focusing my mind elsewhere. Unfortunately, once the cancerous tissue reached his vital organs, there wasn't much to do aside form keeping comfortable and hydrated.
From my vantage point, I spotted Batman giving me the slight signal to join him.
My smile was much strong than my ally's, "Babs, I got to go, pillow fight!"
She told me to have fun before signing off. Instead of taking two seconds to put on my air mask, I decided to do it mid-air as after leaping from the rooftop. Once the task was complete, I had just enough time to tuck and roll before firing a grapple to the drug pillow factory. Upon landing on my feet on the top tier of the fire escape, I contacted Batman who had planned to move in from the opposite side of the building, "Ready when you are."
"Not going to fall asleep on one of these pillows are you?" he asked, a tiny fraction of humor rising from the deep gravel of his voice.
"Tempting… but I prefer one-hundred percent down… not fifty-fifty between down and Columbian cocaine," I joked as I made my way towards a window. There were eleven men inside, only three of them armed with guns. Even after all of these years, it still amazed me that criminals flocked to Gotham. They clearly lacked any and all forms of self-preservation instincts.
I was about to ask him if he wanted to take the honor of going in first but as I activated the comm. link, I heard the shatter of glass from inside the building. I let Batman have a moment in the spotlight before following suit; only I carefully and quietly opened the window before leaping down on top of Bad Guy 7.
Most scuffles lasted a good ten minutes, especially those with firearms. Sometimes you'd even take a hit or two just to help boost their self-esteem… right before you knocked them on their ass. Rarely did anyone who walked in with a cape walked out with an injury, with exception to those infamous lucky shots we all knew too well.
But when all eleven men were on the ground squirming and moaning in less than five minutes, I had to remark, "World Record?"
Batman began cuffing the men together, once again seemingly ignoring me. Deep down I knew Tim wasn't truly intending most of his actions when he wore the cowl. Batman was not witty, Batman was not chatty and Batman certainly was not a smiler.
After radioing in our location, I followed him back to the rooftop we had started out on. As we watched the police arrive, he finally commented, "I watched him take down thirteen armed men in four and a half minutes once."
"Damn… that will be a tough one to beat," I smiled at him.
He nodded, his posture relaxing just slightly. He then looked at me, speaking in the voice of Tim Drake, "Oracle said she's off for the night… is everything…"
"She's just… she doesn't want him to be alone… I know he hates her doting on him but at the same time, I think he secretly likes it. He keeps joking she should have been a nurse and she snaps at him how she would have been a doctor if anything… chief of medicine at that."
Tim was still standing beside me, Batman somewhere far from here, "He seemed pretty good this morning."
"Yeah… he's on a whole mess of bronchodialtors and steroids but so far he's hanging in there," I began to laugh, "We were watching football tonight after dinner and I thought he had fallen asleep on the couch but when I went to change the channel he said, 'Don't even think about it, boy wonder'."
Tim smiled for a moment before Batman returned, "I'll take the Park."
"And leave me the docks, hell no."
He glared at me, and if I had not known the man underneath, I probably would have needed to change my tights.
"At least make it fair," I practically complained, "Want to flip for it?"
"No thank you, Harvey."
It was true, he was not witty…. Batman made very bad jokes.
I held out my fist and waited for him to do the same.
"One, two, three," I counted as we pumped our hands up and down.
He threw scissors.
I slammed my rock down on his fingers and said, "Enjoy the pungent aroma of the day's catch, Ham-Man!" before moving into a string of back flips to avoid any possible retaliation. By the time I made it back to my feet, he was gone.
^V^
I loved my husband.
I loved how brilliant he was, how wonderful he was with the children, how he always looked at me as if it was for the first time…
But there wasn't enough love in me to forgive him for messing around in my delicates.
"What are you doing?"
Caught literally red handed going through the in-wall dresser in my half of the monstrous closet, Bruce spun around to face me, deftly closing the drawer behind him, "Nothing."
I crossed my arms over my chest and directed an icy glare in his direction.
"I… I was helping Alfred put laundry away."
I approached him slowly, "You were better off saying 'nothing'."
Since I had told him that I had hidden one of my old suits somewhere, Bruce had secretly been on a one-man hunt to find it. At first it had been funny, seeing him search precariously through the house but that had unfortunately been only the beginning. He had scoured the manor from top to bottom and had even searched the nooks and crannies of the Cave, even after I promised him it wasn't down there.
Then again, he was never one to trust a…
As he tried to walk by me to seek refuge out of the closet, I said, "Colder."
Stopping dead in his tracks, Bruce proceeded to turn back towards me taking a half a stride in my direction.
I grinned, "Brrrrr."
The look on his face was somewhere between the little naughty smile he saved only for me and the Bat-scowl he saved for only those that made his life difficult.
Another step, this time slightly towards his part of the closet.
"Warmer."
He closed the distance between him and his wall of clothing in two strides, precisely skimming through the suits, shirts and pants that were hanging up. When his efforts earned him a mere "colder" he growled to himself before he started removing shoes from the shelf above his clothes, tossing them to the floor in order to reach into each cubby.
"Bruce, we're talking Fortress of Solitude cold here."
He paused before looking at his collection of shoes as they lay all over the floor.
"Warmer."
With minimal direction, he dropped to the ground and began examining the various small chests he kept with extra clothes in addition to personal belongings he cherished but did not want to see every day. Upon first moving to the Manor, Alfred had explained that the chests contained items form his childhood as well as from his travels over seas.
On all fours, he was finally directed to a chest of winter clothing. When his hands touched the clasp I bent over and touched his lower back, "Hot hot hot!"
Without opening it, he stood and faced me, "I locked it."
"Wait… you're not going to even look?"
He shook his head as that mixture of naughty smile and Bat-scowl turned strictly to a smile, "It's a little early to play Bat and Cat don't you think?"
"Meow," I leaned in to kiss him when I heard Nathan howling.
Although Mattie and Nathan loved each other, they were still siblings at heart. For some reason, the elder child had begun to try to control younger child's every move and with the both of them home for the holiday break it had made for a very long and loud five day weekend.
During a fight they had over who was sitting where at breakfast that morning, Bruce had leaned over and kissed my cheek before saying, "At least tomorrow is Monday."
Bruce and I both exited the closet together to find Nathan sitting on our bed crying and clutching his elbow dramatically. As Bruce looked him over and told he was fine, Mattie walked into the room.
I asked her, "What happened?"
She sighed and responded, "He started it, I told him I didn't want him playing in my room, and he kept bringing his toys in my room and leaving to go get more… I told him to stop and he didn't… and then I just put his toys in the hall and he started hitting me."
Bruce asked, "And how did he hurt his elbow?"
Nathan looked up at his father, "Mattie pushed me!"
"No, I didn't! You tripped on your alligator and you fell!"
"Enough," Bruce said, a hint of sternness in his voice. For so long we had been blessed with peace in our house but as they were getting older, their arguments were getting bigger.
"Mattie, you could have come and gotten one of us," I said.
"Yeah but he should listen to me too, I'm older…"
Bruce spoke, "And he's much younger. You have to remember that."
She snapped before spinning away towards her room, "Fine, take the baby's side!"
I allowed a moment to pass before I offered to go talk to her. Bruce nodded before helping Nathan off of the bed, "Okay… we'll go pick up our toys… and then have a time out."
"She pushed me… Imma good boy," Nathan defended himself while putting on the biggest, fakest pout to date.
I tried not to smile as Bruce replied, "Good boys do as they're told… If Mattie told you not to play in her room, you shouldn't have."
As my son realized he wasn't going to win, he began to cry again, plopping to the floor as he once more grabbed his elbow. While I left to speak to Mattie, I realized I had the easier child to talk down.
I had to knock twice before she answered, "Who is it?"
"You're only chance to still be allowed to go to the movies tonight."
She answered the door with a promptness that would have even amazed Alfred. After I stepped in she shut the door and watched as I sat down on the bed. When she hesitated to join me, I simply leaned back and began to stroke a slumbering Taffy on one of her pillows.
Mattie confessed, "I didn't mean to push him… He wouldn't stop hitting me… I never hit anyone when I was little."
"You were an angel," I agreed, "But not every child grows up the same."
She slowly walked over and finally sat down on the bed, "Is Dad mad at me?"
Shaking my head, I answered, "Of course not. He just doesn't like to see anyone fighting… especially over something silly."
"It's not silly, Mom… I don't want him playing in my room… He has his own room."
"And that's the end of the world, is it? Him bringing a few toys over?"
She didn't say anything to that.
With her entering middle school the following year, I knew this was going to be the very beginning of her evolution in to adolescence. As much as she had been a perfect first child, I feared that her sweet ways would be lost as her priorities changed from making Bruce smile with her acrobatic antics to making him cringe by going to school dances. I tried to tell myself I was prepared for what was to come but in all honesty, I didn't want to lose my baby girl any more than Bruce did.
But since I too was once a baby girl, I had a slight advantage over him.
"Am I going to be grounded?" she asked suddenly.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Has your father ever grounded you?"
She shrugged, "I guess not."
"And I doubt he ever will… although maybe when you're older... if you crash one of the cars or something, he might consider it."
"I'm going to be a great driver, Mom... I win Mario Kart all the time," she smirked.
After I assured her she was still going to go to the movies with her friends that night, Bruce opened the door after a slight knock.
Mattie called out, "Come in."
The both of us expected him to start talking about how she needed to be more patient with her younger sibling or even that she needed to ask an adult to help her instead of taking action on her own.
But there was something on his mind that was far worse than hitting and pushing.
"Bruce?" I asked as I rose from the bed.
He began blinking and I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed before he managed quietly, "It's Jim."
^V^
My father was laid to rest beside Sarah Essen-Gordon the first of December.
Unlike the day he had died, the day of his funeral had been well below freezing, the barren trees of the Gotham Cemetery quivering in the icy winds as dismal gray clouds blotted out any ray of sun.
The day he had died, the sun had been shining.
The Sunday after Thanksgiving, he had ordered me out of the house and commanded Dick and I to go and do something useful. Dick napped on the couch all afternoon while I tried to catch up on logs and data that had piled up over the last few weeks. Although I knew I would only get yelled at, I planned on making dinner to take over to Dad. He was indeed grateful for my help but he claimed there was nothing wrong with his finger so he was still able to dial takeout on his own.
"Dad, that's crappy food," I had argued with him.
"I've lived off it for decades… no point in stopping now."
He had meant it as a joke. A joke he regretted the second I started crying.
After I had finished chopping up vegetables to make stir fry with, the phone rang. It often rang around six, mainly telemarketers trying to interrupt a happy family's dinner, occasionally Tim looking to work out with Dick and randomly Selina asking for an impromptu girl's night. But for some reason when the phone rang, I knew.
I didn't realize I had dropped the entire chopping board of vegetables on the floor until Dick stepped on crisp onions and peppers as he approached me. The phone had rang what seemed like hours ago but it was still in his right hand as he pressed it to the side of his face. With his other hand he grabbed mine as he knelt before me, kissing my fingers as tears began to slip over his cheeks.
No.
No, he was fine…
He was…
I felt Dick's fingertips on my hand and glanced over to see him forcing a smile. Although the others were riding to the reception in a pair of limousines, we had gone separately to the service. That way we would be able to stop by the Clocktower and take Frank for a walk before abandoning him for the rest of the day.
"Hanging in there?" he asked softly.
I nodded, "By a thread."
"Ah, but a good, strong Gordon thread," he chanced a look over at me again.
In light of his incalculable service to the city of Gotham, Dad had been given a full honors funeral, including a parade through downtown right to the steps of City Hall. Ten thousand uniformed police officers marched in procession, a truly stunning sight. I couldn't help but think he would have been pissed, wasting manpower and all. The mayor even gave a touching speech about how one man could and in fact had made a difference in our city.
Just as I had started to cry, Mattie, who had been looking up at the podium where Dick and I sat, blew me a kiss and a sad smile.
Before the parade had started, Dick had pulled some strings and let Mattie pet some of the police horses. When she spotted the horse in full dress with no rider and a pair of tall boots set backwards in the stirrups, she asked, "What's that for?"
Dick had crouched next to her and explained, "That represents the person who has died… it's to symbolize like… a warrior that will ride no more. The horse will be led behind the caisson," he pointed to the cart that held a flag draped coffin.
She had smiled at him and asked, "Can I lead him?"
"Sorry, kiddo, you have to be at least this tall," he held his hand mere inches above the top of her black, wavy hair, "to walk in the parade… Tough noogies."
I opted out of being in the parade but Dick and Will both joined in, wearing their former police dress uniforms. Jim also accompanied them but Maureen was at the podium, waiting for me. Since the weather was going to be bad, Maureen's mother, who had flown in for the weekend, offered to watch baby Sarah.
After dropping Dick and Will off at the start of the parade, I had to fight traffic for the better part of thirty minutes to get to the end. I spotted Bruce and Selina standing with the kids amidst the crowd. Not far from them, Tim and Cass stood shivering in the cold and Alfred and Leslie were beside them. What surprised me was that right next to Leslie stood the District Attorney and a woman with honey colored hair.
Dr. Bryce, I presumed.
When our DA had first taken office a few years earlier, I had naturally looked into every inch of his history. His wife included. She was a remarkable trauma surgeon but instead of taking over a department at any of Gotham's seven hospitals, she had settled in at the Free Clinic that Leslie ran.
They were both trying to save the city, one hopeless case at a time.
As the sound of bagpipes neared, I had put a brave face on. There was something eerie about them that always caused my stomach to flutter. I had once put it to the test and had watched Titanic with the volume up and then the next day had watched it without the volume. The first day, I had cried my little green eyes out.
The second day, I had laughed when the guy fell off of the back of the boat and hit the propeller.
Following the speeches, the gun salute and the posthumous medal of valor, of which he already had a number of right alongside a medal of honor, it was time to proceed to the cemetery. As much as I had wanted to get in the car and drive far, far away, Dick got in the driver's seat and followed the procession. Despite the size of the parade, only a few dozen attended the burial service; mostly close friends he had from the department in addition to our Family.
However, I had no doubt that far more would be attending the reception back at City Hall.
Dick stood behind me, his hands gently touching my shoulders. I had expected him to withdraw in order to put a brave front on for me but in all honesty he had cried just about as much as I had.
Then again, it wasn't like he was Bruce.
Before the coffin was lowered, many of the attendees approached it, either touching the glossy surface or leaving a flower behind. I smiled to see Selina, Nathan and Mattie approach tentatively before setting down a rose from each of them. As they walked away, I heard Nathan ask where Frank was.
After receiving the deepest sympathies from far too many people, I had Dick go with me for one last goodbye. At the calling hours held the night before, I had already slipped a photo of us from when I was still in pigtails into the pocket of his suit. It had been from the first year I had lived with him and he had taken me to the Gotham County fair.
I had scored a bull's eye on a water gun target and from the look on his face, he couldn't have been more proud.
Dick touched the coffin gently, "We'll take care of the firm, Jim. And of course, Frank can keep your office."
I laughed despite the setting and added, "He'll have to have his own water cooler, though." Dick laughed as well and then leaned over and kissed my cheek.
By the time he stood upright, I was crying.
After regaining my composure, I set one last rose atop the coffin before leaving with Dick. I was looking forward to the reception, mostly because the cops, both current and former, would no doubt turn the pain of mourning into the joy of a good roast. I had practically grown up with most of them and they were just as much a part of my family as Dad had been. I just hoped that Jim and Maureen would be able to survive it.
As we returned to the broad sidewalk, I realized the lone figure sitting in the third row of chairs in front of the casket.
Dick noticed as well and I reached back and squeezed his hand, "It's okay… Go to him."
"You sure?"
I nodded, "He needs you… I need a drink."
He kissed me once more before slowly walking over to Bruce, taking a seat to his left.
^V^
"It's physically impossible," Dick whispered.
Tim replied, "I agree, it defies the laws of physics, yes… but it is possible."
I rolled my eyes and ate another cream puff off of the plate Tim was holding.
"I'll bet you… hundred bucks, it's him."
Dick snickered, "Your loss… Cass, you want in on it?"
"It's him."
"No, it's not," Dick retorted, "And even if it is… It has to be an act of God and if that's the case than it doesn't count as him being him because now he's unnatural."
"Five hundred," I said.
Tim laughed before he leaned in and kissed me, "Great minds, think alike."
"All right," Dick said, "You two… obviously blind people against my perfect vision."
Barbara approached and before she could say anything, Dick asked, "Babs, who is that over there by the bar?"
"Harvey Bullock," she calmly replied.
"What? It can't be!" he declared.
I could see where he would have been misled. The once grossly overweight detective was now fairly fit, at least one hundred seventy-five pounds thinner than when he had left the GCPD for a job in homicide in Baltimore shortly after Jim Gordon had retired.
"Are you sure?" Dick asked, still not convinced.
She nodded, "He dropped by last week to see Dad. I guess when Dad answered the door he just stood there, jaw dropped… And Harvey just shrugged and said, 'Subway diet'."
"How in the hell do you lose that much weight by… eating?" Dick asked in sheer awe.
"Ask him," I recommended before snatching the last stuffed pepper off of Tim's plate.
Tim caught me and snatched my wrist before I could consume my treat. I then smiled and fed it to him instead.
"So speaking of Harvey's… did you see the camera at the parade and the service?" Tim asked as he chewed.
Barbara smiled, "Yeah… Kelsey called me yesterday to make sure I was okay with it."
"With what?" I asked eyeing the remaining morsel on the plate.
Tim popped the mini meatball in his mouth before explaining, "It was a live feed to Arkham, for Harvey Dent to watch in private."
I had dealt with Two-Face only a handful of times but knew he was once a very good man. That he, Batman and the former commissioner had worked very close to help clean up Gotham. Somewhere, behind the scars and the insanity, Harvey Dent was hiding.
Dick remarked suddenly, "So, I saw you were awfully chummy with the DA."
Barbara nodded. Before the reception opened, the guests paid their respects to Jim Gordon's family. Bryce had spent quite a bit of time talking with Barbara, about how much he cherished all that her father had done.
Casually eavesdropping from a few feet away, I had heard Bryce ask, "So, about this security firm… they do residences too?"
Barbara had nodded, "Anything that needs to be safe, they do it."
He had explained, "Well… I was thinking about having my house done… seeing how I'm making more enemies than friends in this city, I know it would make me feel better… not that Dana's worried, hell, she's not even scared to go to work in the middle of the night and that's practically Crime Alley."
I had walked away thinking anyone who didn't know how to use an escrima stick would be out of their mind to be fearless in that part of the city.
Bruce approached silently and said, "We're going to head home… the kids are pretty drained."
Barbara smiled and said, "Early for you to be calling it a night."
He tried to smirk but failed.
It didn't take an ability to read body language down to the minutest twitch of a finger to see how sad he was. I saw him when he had approached the coffin at the cemetery, with Dick a few feet behind him. I couldn't help but think Gordon retired, he retired.
Gordon got sick, he got sick.
Gordon died…
As Dick and Tim began recapping the terms of the bet they had not finalized, I excused myself for a minute. My intention had been to get more punch but I was distracted by a tall woman with long, dark hair.
Huntress.
Although without her crossbow and mask, it was Helena I supposed.
Tim had said a while back that she had figured out who Bruce and Dick and Barbara were but the she still didn't know who Tim and I were. As much as I wanted to tell her who I was, I knew it wasn't the smart thing to do.
It's not like the X-men movies that have the superheroes going around telling everyone their real names as well as their superhero names.
To make things more awkward, Helena turned and approached the table where the punch and non-alcoholic drinks were. The pepper had made me thirsty and I wasn't about to approach the bar and ask for a cran-apple juice. I decided to suck it up and get some damn punch.
My plan to simply filled cup for myself and one for Tim was ruined when she asked, "Do I know you?"
I shrugged and said, "Uh… No," before quickly leaving, empty-handed nonetheless.
After zigzagging through the crowd, I finally made it back to Tim, Dick and Barbara. I leaned in, setting a hand on his arm and whispered in Tim's ear, "Huntress is here."
Although I felt the muscles of his biceps clench, his face remained light, "That's interesting. Did she see you?"
"She thought she recognized me…"
Tim nodded, and then announced, "Dick, I'll take that money whenever you're ready, Barbara," he leaned in and kissed her, "I don't want to hear your voice at night for at least a week."
Instead of making our way back through the main throng, Tim and I left through a fire door that had been propped open with someone's shoe.
Since we had ridden about town in the limo for most of the day, we ended up taking a taxicab home. Instead of sitting next to the window, I chose to take the middle seat in order to lean against his arm. Upon arriving at the townhouse, we were greeted by urgent whines. As Tim let Robbie out back for a while, I went upstairs to change out of the black dress into a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved tee.
I jogged down the stairs while putting my hair up in a little bun just as I heard the phone ring. After racing to the den, I grabbed it on the fifth ring, "Hello?"
"Hey, Cass, it's Dick."
"What's up?"
"Listen… I think I'm going to sit out tonight… think the two of you can handle things?"
For some reason I almost corrected him to say that there were technically three of us but instead, I replied, "Sure."
He paused before saying, "Besides, I think it shouldn't be too bad… any criminal would have to be a complete moron to act out today of all days."
^V^
I had expected the ride home to be silent.
Instead, it was Nathan giggling in the back seat alternating with Mattie whispering, "Stop it."
Five minutes from home, I felt my shoulders bunching and Selina intervened before I could make a poor choice of words, "It's been a long day, you two, let's not make it longer."
Although there had been a bounty of food available at the reception, I hadn't even had so much as a glass of water. In fact, all I had ingested in two days had been coffee and then a fraction of an omelet Mattie had made for me that morning. Needless to say, my stomach was practically digesting itself. Unfortunately, Alfred had opted to stay in the city to have dinner with Leslie and one of the doctors that worked at the clinic.
Thankfully, Mattie and Nathan had both filled up, not only at the reception but at breakfast as well. I even noticed Selina giving them granola bars during the parade. She had offered me one but I had declined. She had said, "A hungry kid is a cranky kid, Bruce."
Once home, I offered to take Nathan so that Selina and Mattie could change and get ready for bed. Selina then said she would take our son so I could eat something.
Not wanting to fight over something foolish, I agreed.
Unfortunately, I had drained the entire pot of coffee earlier in the day and was not quite prepared to risk my life by touching Alfred's kitchen appliances. After scanning the refrigerator, I settled for a bottle of electrolyte-enriched water, hoping to at least hydrate myself properly. From there, I decided something more solid might be wise and selected a few almond scones from the cookie jar.
Deciding the kitchen was too quiet I headed for the study. I had yet to find the will to read the Sunday paper, of which had Jim Gordon's face on the front page.
Although it was no surprise to have lost him, it was still hard to accept that we had lost him so quickly. Had he not given up on treatment, he would have undoubtedly made it well into the next year, perhaps long enough to see his only grandchild's first birthday.
But as he had told me in the hospital, he wasn't giving up on life…
"Dad?"
I had been sitting in an overstuffed leather armchair when I heard Mattie. I patted my lap as she approached but she shook her head, opting to stand directly in front of me.
"Are you okay, kitten?" I asked as I turned the lamp on that rested on the end table beside me.
She looked positively terrified.
"Mattie?"
She let out a shaky breath, "I know, Dad."
"You know what?"
"Your secret… I figured it out."
My heart rate doubled but my voice was steady as I asked, "What secret?"
"It makes sense… it explains everything… but you're done now so.. it's okay, it's better that you didn't keep doing it… Or else…" her breaths were starting to come faster and as I stood she shook her head, "I'm fine. I just… why didn't you tell me you were in the mob?"
I fell to my knees in front of her, "The… the mob?"
She nodded, stepping back slightly, "They killed your parents to get to the money… and then they offered to protect you… and when you wanted out, they hurt you, because the mob is forever, Dad, you can't just quit… so, you had to leave the city for so long.... And I don't know when but they finally let you out, you must have paid them but…"
I reached forward and set my hands on her tiny arms, almost relieved at what she was saying, "Mattie… I was never… I was never in the mob."
"But… they helped set up the frame, for when Vesper died and you had to go to pris---."
"What do you know about Vesper?" I asked, perhaps too sternly.
Her eyes shot back and forth quickly before she answered, "Just what was in the newspapers…"
Trying to not to let my anger surface, I asked, "What did I tell you about looking things up like that?"
The fear that had been in her eyes a moment earlier was rapidly replaced with anger, "I don't care! I don't care, I should know these things, you should have told me!"
Suddenly I heard Selina's voice in my head, Tell her, Bruce, the sooner the better…
"Mattie… I promise you, I was never with the mob… in fact… I…"
Tell her, Bruce …
"When my parents died, I made a vow to make sure that no other would suffer as I had… that criminals would no longer run rampant in Gotham. I spent a majority of my youth traveling the world, learning from the best in a number of fields… man hunting, escape artistry, dozens of martial artists as well as stunt men, racecar drivers and even detectives. I had to prepare my body and mind for the war I was about to begin… the war on crime. When I returned, I knew I couldn't use what I had learned as a cop… they too were just as corrupt as the criminals they fought. I wanted the criminals to not fear getting caught or doing jail time… I wanted them to fear the night… to be so afraid that they wouldn't even think about hurting others… Mattie… I was Batman."
The thin arms in my hands began to tremble slightly. Her mouth began to gape open, "But I saw Batman… and you were there too…"
"I… I spent twenty years of my life protecting this city… but I couldn't fight forever. I stepped down when you were six years old… I had to do it, not just because of my health but for you and for Mom. I chose Tim to step up and take my place, alongside Dick… as Nightwing and Cassandra… as Batgirl…" I pressed on, knowing that if I didn't say everything right then, I would never be able to, "Tim was Batman that night… That was his first night, actually."
She turned suddenly and began to back away, "No…"
I rose to my feet, "The scars weren't from accidents… each one is a reminder… of what I've sacrificed for this city…"
She whispered, "Your leg…"
"Even though I'm not Batman anymore… I still help. That was… an error on my part… I pushed myself too far and…"
Mattie turned and started to leave the room and I followed her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She glared back at me, "Don't touch me…"
"Mattie please, try to understand… I wanted to protect you. I love you."
She paused before staring at me with my own eyes, "I hate you," and then ran out of the room.
Selina found me standing there twenty minutes later, "What the hell did you do to her, she's crying louder than Nathan was about his damn elbow last weekend."
Somehow, I found my voice, "I told her."
Selina leaned against the door frame, "Told her what?"
"The truth…"
My expectations must have been off for I had no idea that my wife was going to hit me in the face. "How could you?" she growled.
"You tell me to tell her, I tell her, now you're telling me I shouldn't have told her?" I returned the snarl.
Selina's eyes narrowed, "That's not my point… You could have told me you were going to tell her, Bruce."
"I hadn't… she accused me of…" losing any hope of defending or even justifying what I had done. Instead, I sighed and looked at her apologetically, "Is she really that upset?"
Selina nodded slowly, "And from what I can see, she must have done a number on you, too."
"She said… she hates me."
"You know she doesn't."
I shook my head, "I've made scowls that were happier than the look she gave me."
"Well, if it's any comfort, I didn't hate you when you told me."
"I know… you jumped on me," I tried to lighten my tone but it didn't work. After a forced sigh, I asked, "Should I---."
Selina shook her head, "No… not unless you want another Wayne woman to hit you."
^V^