Author's Note: Posting a new chapter eight days since the last update is nothing short of a miracle! :) I hope you like this chapter - it's pretty packed! I'm honestly really excited about this one - lots of things coming together and a few plot points just now emerging. Cmbmsu - thank you so, so much for the beta and sweetly encouraging me with this story.
I hope you enjoy the read!
They were home.
Selina took the key out of the ignition and sank back into her seat. More or less, giving Bruce time to finish his conversation with Fox on the phone and collect his thoughts before they stepped foot—
She winced, catching herself before she took that particular idea any further. At least she hadn't voiced the thought. Funny how simple, careless things like that could hurt someone at a time like this. Not that Bruce would care. He wouldn't, not really. It would bother Selina more than it would bother him.
"You say he's been roughing it in Brazil the past four years?" Bruce was asking Fox. "Just recently returned to the States two months ago? Maybe he wants a change of pace and wouldn't mind a little luxury for a change."
Selina leaned her elbow on the door and cocked her head, curious about this lawyer Bruce was inquiring about. A Coleman Reese, now known as Justin Caller. Apparently, he was Bruce's first choice for a lawyer to assist them as they proceeded with the adoption process. They needed a lawyer they could trust—but also one who wouldn't blink an eye at bending the rules. They needed the lawyer to accompany them on visits, too.
According to Bruce, 'Caller' wasn't the same man he was nine years ago and could possibly be the one they were looking for. Bruce hadn't elaborated on what he meant by 'not the same man.' Neither had Selina pressed him for answers.
Fox replied. Bruce snorted. "I don't doubt it. If he decides to consider the offer, tell him that his 'new employer' offered to rent and furnish his apartment in town and take care of his 'credentials.' He just needs to take a refresher course on adoption law. It's a good thing that had been his first choice in law school. Also that he eventually changed his mind and ended up at Wayne Enterprises."
There was a pause.
"Ask him today," Bruce drawled. "I'll send you what I learned about Luthor by tomorrow."
Bruce's face relaxed into a smile when Fox answered again. "Thank you," he murmured. "We'll be fine. And I'll tell Selina."
He hung up and before she could ask him what Fox said, he stared at the front of the house.
"There's already a ramp?" he asked confusedly—and rightly so.
She'd proposed modifications about their home to him once. He'd grunted a response. She'd taken that as a hint and deemed herself in charge, never to approach him about the subject again.
Thanks to John's insistence and constant supervision, the construction crew had completed the ramp ahead of schedule and prior to their return. Selina's gaze swept over the length of it, pleased at the aesthetic quality of the array of spiraling bricks actually added to the front.
"Yes, among other things," she said offhandedly, casting a furtive glance his way.
After sitting for a ten hour flight, then sitting in a car and flying more, with no respite—Bruce was in a mood. The smile that had formed while he'd been talking to Fox had been quite the surprise.
"At least I get to keep my own damn wheelchair this time," he muttered, leaning his elbow against the door. "And not rely on some damn chair that's not even comfortable."
Selina grew concerned. It wasn't like Bruce to curse repeatedly. In fact, before the honeymoon, she could count the number of curse words she'd ever heard him utter on one hand, save that one time sitting in Leslie's clinic all those months ago. But in the last twenty-four hours he'd had several moments, including right before they boarded the plane out of Paris and also as soon as he had boarded the plane.
Then again, who was she to judge. She wasn't the one being forced to live out the rest of her life using a cane or a wheelchair. She suspected this was a way he was letting off steam. Adjusting. Even coping.
"At least you had a comfortable seat for most of the trip," she reminded him.
He sighed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't very nice to them, was I?"
"You basically swore at the man."
"I should send an apology," he surmised, rubbing his jaw. "Today."
"You should. But the good news is, we now all know you're not perfect," she said sweetly.
He threw her a withering look.
"I don't think anyone is blaming you for expressing your displeasure," she said honestly, knowing it was true. Dr. Chase, Alfred, and Leslie had witnessed the entire exchange, never casting judgement but stepping back and letting Selina handle the situation. "You had a right to complain about the issued wheelchair. The airline made a mistake."
"I made a mistake," he muttered.
She hesitated. "You did react badly," she agreed, choosing to be completely honest with him.
"Which you corrected with your sweet talking." He sighed. "With no help from me."
Selina saw nothing good coming from continuing this particular conversation. His face was haggard, lined with fatigue. She had to stop it here.
"But we're beyond that now, aren't we," she said gently. "We're home."
"We better wake up Alfred." Bruce craned his neck to look back at the older man. Alfred chose to accompany them directly to Winterfield. Since Leslie was returning to Gotham to her clinic, she'd offered to put his things in storage. He'd happily agreed. Selina herself was greatly relieved as it took a weight off Bruce's shoulders, his father now under their roof.
"That won't be necessary, Master Wayne," Alfred stated behind them, without an ounce of sleep in his voice. "I awakened just in time to agree with the missus. Perfect is how perfect does."
Bruce blinked at her. "See how it is with him? With both of you? I swear you two plot against me when I'm sleeping. And even when I'm not sleeping. With your telepathic abilities."
Selina leaned over and gave him a consolatory kiss on the cheek.
"There's nothing wrong with a few extra lessons in humility, Master Wayne," Alfred cautioned, patting his shoulder from behind.
Bruce groaned. "At least Cora and Annette will be on my side. John will be, too. I can't remember the last time he ever sided with you."
"That's his loss, then," she quipped before she thought too much of that last statement. Bruce probably didn't remember John siding with Selina. Or vice versa. But, they had agreed on a thing or two. "But speaking of Cora," she said, inclining her head towards the house. "Look."
Bruce glanced up at the house and softly smiled. Cora stood by her mother behind the glass door, peering out at them. Annette held the child back, one hand on her shoulder. Fredericks stood behind them both.
"She grew," he mused.
"We were only gone for a couple weeks, Bruce," she said dryly.
"Still, she grew," he shrugged.
"Let me get your chair," she said, opening her door and slipping out of her seat. She popped the trunk and pulled out the wheelchair just as John jogged over.
"How did the flying go?" John asked her, pausing at Bruce's closed door.
"As good as it could have gone," she admitted, unfolding the chair.
Truthfully, it could have gone better, but Bruce himself had pushed to come home as soon as possible. In hindsight, they should have found a hotel for the night after the international flight. But Dr. Chase never argued with Bruce, and everyone followed his example. Selina decided it was the least they could do, giving Bruce a voice about the plan to get home.
"That bad, huh?" John sympathized. "Just tell me what to do, so I can give you a break."
"Help him into the chair?" she suggested immediately. "And don't make a big deal about it."
"Sure thing," John said with a nod.
Remembering Dr. Chase's severe additional warning this morning to her about Bruce walking or standing at all, Selina continued. "Don't let him put any weight on his feet, either. He won't be able to for a few weeks, maybe longer. That means, for now, you'll have to basically lift him up and slide him across into the chair, even though he will grab the above bar to help the process along," she explained, then added, "He hates this part."
"I would think something was wrong if he didn't hate it," John observed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry this happened. I really am."
Not trusting herself to speak, Selina pressed her lips together.
"Guess we better do this," John declared, exhaling a breath with gusto.
He turned and opened the door. Selina pushed the chair up to them and held it in place.
"You've been missed." John grinned at him, showing none of his earlier apprehension.
"It's good to be back." Bruce looked up at him, grinning.
"Ready?" John asked.
Bruce's grin floundered. He tightened his grip on the handle above him. "As I'll ever be."
His brows raised when John assisted him into the chair like he'd been doing so for weeks. Selina was also shocked at the ease at which the ex-detective transferred him.
"I may have googled how to do this last night," John admitted when they kept staring.
Thankfully, Bruce only barked out a laugh. "You've been working out more, too," he observed, eyeing the younger man's movements and strength with a gaze of an experienced mentor. And quite possibly with a hint of envy. "And training just like I asked."
"I didn't quit just because my esteemed mentor was on his honeymoon," John said, grin widening.
Bruce may have sat up a little straighter. Selina smiled to herself. John had a knack, knowing just what to say to stroke Bruce's ego and when to say it.
"What did we tell you, Master Wayne," Alfred chided, coming around them with two suitcases. "Maybe another lesson is in order."
"I'm sure we'll think of something," Selina chimed without skipping a beat.
Bruce turned his head to look at them both, eyes darting from Selina and back to Alfred. "Really?"
"Pardon?" John asked, a confused expression on his face.
Bruce sighed, shoulders drooping. "They believe I should be taught a lesson in humility. Scratch that. Multiple lessons."
"Seriously?" John said, eyes also hopping from Selina to Alfred. "You're...you're not serious, are you? I mean...Bruce is the last person you need to teach that...to..." He frowned, then a funny expression grew on his face. "Oh. That's a strange way to show that you care."
"He expects it by now," Selina smirked. Glancing at the door, she almost laughed. Cora's face scrunched up against the glass, her nose flattening. "We better get moving."
"Right," John said, smiling again when he, too, noticed the smushed face of their tiniest houseguest. "Anything I can get?"
"The rest of the luggage—"
"—and my damn papers," Bruce interrupted, scowling through the open car door at the passenger's seat.
More specifically, at the newspapers he'd been reading that were now just beyond his reach. A week ago, he could get them on his own. Now, there was no way he could help himself. He'd lean clear out of his chair. Selina snatched them up quickly before Bruce's frustration grew.
She set them on his lap, arranging them so the article about the newest vigilante was on top. Byline, Lois Lane. Before she forgot, she added the small, wrapped box containing Cora's gift.
John glanced down at the pile of papers. "You've been reading about Superman, too, huh?"
"You'd been investigating?" Selina asked John, suddenly curious.
"You bet," John concurred, nodding.
"I must have been really out of it to not realize..." Bruce's voice faded, his eyes also glazing over.
"Bruce," Selina said, nudging him back.
"Huh?" he asked, blinking.
"The paper," she mouthed.
"Oh." He gave a self-depreciating laugh. "See what I mean?"
"So you've been out of it for awhile." John shrugged.
"I think I still am," Bruce confessed.
"Why do you say that?" John cast a quick glance at Selina.
She warned John with her eyes the best she could.
She tried not to worry about Bruce, but the man was too hard on himself. However, if he was up to it, she believed adding another project to their plan to adopt would do wonders to keep his mind occupied and off of his condition. Even if he got the job at the university, the following semester wouldn't begin for awhile. The next project might as well include some detective work.
"I should've been trying to figure out who the hell this guy is," Bruce said, a disquieted expression on his face. "He has to be someone. Just like the Batman was."
"Is. Master Wayne. Just like the Batman is someone," Alfred said, pulling his shoulders back. "You are alive, are you not?"
Bruce sighed. "Okay, Alfred. Is. I should've been trying to figure out all of his powers, what he's capable of doing, where he came from. What his plan is, if he has one. Not—"
"Recovering from nearly being blown to bits?" Selina interrupted, unable to keep the bite from her voice. "Piecing your memory back together?"
Adjusting to a life as a cripple went unsaid.
"Well…" Bruce froze.
"Bruce?" She stepped up beside him.
"Hold on a second," he whispered.
They all stilled, even Alfred.
"What is it?" John murmured.
Bruce tilted his head to the right, eyes searching the horizon.
"Bruce?" she whispered.
He narrowed his eyes on a spot just beyond the lake. Whether it was the trees or the wind or both, something did move.
A suspenseful moment passed, Selina's arms prickling.
He finally stirred. "I swear, sometimes, it's like...I'm being watched," he said, all eyes on him. "Like at the hospital. Even the hotel."
"You never said anything before about this," she said slowly.
"Case in point," Bruce exasperated. "I'm not exactly quick on the draw, here, am I?"
"You will be," she quickly assured him. "You just need some more time, that's all. But what happened at the hospital?"
"I could've sworn someone in red and blue...actually gave me something to drink. And then...a few other times..." Bruce's shoulders slumped when they stared at him. "Never mind. It's...ridiculous."
Selina knew for a fact that the nurses assisting Bruce at the hospital never wore those colors. In fact, neither had anyone who'd been in Bruce's room. At least, not to her knowledge. "So you believe that this vigilante actually offered you something to drink."
Bruce's forehead creased. "A man gave me water. He just so happened to be wearing red and blue."
Selina frowned. It wasn't like Bruce to ignore coincidences like this.
"In my book, helping Master Wayne in any way, shape, or form is as important as rescuing someone from a burning building," Alfred said, smiling fondly at Bruce. "I should send the do gooder a thank you card, whomever he is."
"Superman," Selina couldn't help but ask him again. This was bizarre, even for Bruce. "You think it was him."
"I think someone gave me water," Bruce muttered, throwing her a frown. "Look...forget I said anything. It's of no consequence. That little girl up there, though? She needs us more than I need to figure out who visited me in the hospital."
"No one should've visited you in the hospital," she pointed out.
"Well, someone did," Bruce shrugged.
Had Clark Kent figured out where'd they taken Bruce? He was a good reporter. It was possible.
Selina swallowed harshly. If he had come to see Bruce, had it been believing Bruce was Alex...or Bruce Wayne?
"Lina, it's fine," he stressed, peering up at her. "No harm was done."
"Nurse Beth appeared pretty harmless, too. Look at the damage she did."
"You have me there," he admitted.
"We'll talk more about it later," she said firmly, slipping behind him.
"Maybe you can refresh my mind about the whole incident at the masquerade, while you're at it?" he suggested, trying to bend his neck back and look up at her
"After you take a nap or at least stretch out for awhile," she countered, not looking down at him for fear he'd see that something was off. If Mister Kent knew who Bruce was—and even if he didn't, he could have prowled the hospitals for "Alex"—who knew what kind of information he'd gained, snooping in Bruce's room.
She'd have to find out for sure. Which meant...Selina had a phone call or two to make.
"I'd rather not, Lina," he protested.
She pushed him forward in the chair. "Then...no."
"Fine. Later. Much later," he grumbled, but still agreeing with her, just like she knew he would.
Not even Bruce Wayne was immune to the traveling they did. Especially not in his condition.
"You better watch your tongue around Cora," she whispered in his ear.
"I haven't been that bad, have I?" he asked worriedly.
"Would I even be mentioning it if you haven't been?"
In reply, he muttered a series of Bhutanese oaths under his breath.
"Bruce," she hissed. "I mean it."
"You can be damn sure that I did, too," he replied.
John snorted beside them.
"You are no help, but why should I be surprised," Selina accused John. She glared at the detective then down at the top of her mouthy husband's head.
What would Cora think, inadvertently hearing him talk like this? It could possibly bruise the little girl's perception of him.
"Bruce," she gritted. "No more."
"That was all I had left in me, anyway," he said, voice softening. "You won't hear another curse word from me as long as I use a cane or a wheelchair, I promise."
Selina felt no consolation and immediately regretted reprimanding him.
That would quite possibly be forever.
And she was certain that was exactly how Bruce had meant it.
oOo
Annette and Fredericks welcomed them back with opened arms, but Bruce had eyes only for Cora. Before they'd come in the house, she'd backed up behind her mother, face half-hidden by her mother's leg.
Bruce smiled at her, and she stared back at him. They weren't quite at eye level, even with Bruce sequestered in his chair. Still, he was sure she'd grown an inch since they'd been away.
"I've missed you," he tenderly called to her.
He didn't say anything else, allowing her to acclimate herself with him again.
But remembering the reserved way about her, he did hold out the gift. "Your Aunt Cat and I brought you something from Paris."
She blinked at him, rubbing her eyes as if she were sleepy. But she didn't take the gift. She didn't move from her spot at all.
"It's okay," he assured her. "You can look at it later. I'll keep it with me and you can open it when you're ready- "
Her lower lip trembled and before he could say anything else, she dashed away and up the stairs.
"Cora," Annette cried. She stepped forward but Fredericks pulled her back.
"No, Anne. I'll go," he asserted, and followed the child calmly up the stairs.
Bruce's eyes followed Cora's every move. One shoe was untied. What if she tripped and hurt herself? He'd be stuck here, unable to help her, unable to go to her if she fell. His stomach churned. Even though Fredericks caught up to her, he didn't breathe until she'd reached the top and turned the corner towards her own bedroom.
He exhaled a long breath and glanced up at Annette. "This was too much, wasn't it?"
Bruce, in this damn chair. He and Selina, coming home, Alfred in tow. Combined, he should've known it would be too much. He should've tread more carefully. How, he'd no idea, but there could have been some way to make this easier for her.
"Poor dear," Alfred commented.
"She's..." Annette paused, looking away as if pondering what to say. "Upset that you can't..." Annette bit her lip, her own eyes filling with tears. "She's...upset, seeing you...never able to walk...as before...she just needs...time."
"It's okay," Bruce said honestly. "I understand."
Annette wiped her eyes, then her cheeks. Bruce felt a tightening in his chest, something unusually common the past three days. Soon, Selina's hand rested on his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry Mister Wayne. I fear this has made things worse for you," Annette laughed dryly. "And I'm a...a nurse, and I admit...this is hard for me, too, seeing you..."
"No, no. Please, don't apologize," he tried to reassure her. "It's alright. I've been having a time of it myself, lately."
"I expected the traveling would be difficult." Annette glanced at Selina, looking for a second opinion as if she didn't believe him.
"We managed," Selina said.
"They managed. I made a mess of things before the plane even got off the ground." He said wryly. "Just ask Selina and Alfred."
"No one would blame you, Mister Wayne, for needing time to adjust. In fact," Annette's voice hitched. "I...I know that will be the case and I want to help however I can." She gave him a tremulous smile. "I'll be first in line."
"Thank you, Annette." Bruce tossed a lazy grin at Alfred. "Though, you may be fighting Alfred for that particular spot."
"Oh," Annette's eyes widened. "I didn't mean to any offend anyone."
"Shame on you, Master Wayne, for insinuating anything of the sort," Alfred scolded. "Forgive him, my dear. He has a terrible case of jet lag."
Bruce rolled his eyes. He put his hands on the wheels of the chair and propelled himself forward.
"Bruce, I think we should stop at our room first," Selina stated before he moved an inch.
He continued wheeling his chair down the hall. "I do not have jet lag," he called to her.
"Says the man who couldn't sleep on the plane or in the car like the rest of us. Or eat. The other brace is here," she added.
Bruce tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted but he could not and some of its contents—what little there was—swept upwards into his mouth. He stopped the chair involuntarily, cringing.
"I'm going to the kitchen," he said stubbornly, refusing to look back. "I'm hungry. I know for a fact I can reach the bread and everything in the fridge myself."
"Oh really," Selina said.
He could just imagine her, arms folded, head cocked to the side in challenge. And Alfred, watching with a knowing and insolently smug look on his face.
Why had he thought bringing them under the same roof had been a good idea again?
"Fine. So maybe just up to and including the third shelf," he deadpanned.
"Oh, dear," Annette gasped. "I forgot. I have everything ready, Mister Wayne. On the buffet in the dining room. Please, go ahead and find your seats. I'll bring the drinks."
She hurried off past him and down the hall.
"Well, I can't let her do all the work, now can I," Alfred said with his usual enthusiasm concerning domestic matters—more than what Bruce thought was necessary.
"I'll take your things to your room," John offered.
"Thank you, John," Alfred said, then trailed after Annette.
Envisioning a grand meal, Bruce relaxed back into his chair. His stomach also gave an audible growl. He turned his head and looked back at Selina, who already held the cursed box from the doctor, a subtle warning in her eyes for him to listen.
"First, the brace," Selina demanded. "Dr. Chase's orders. The sooner we get it on your leg, the better."
He tore his eyes from the box. Without a word, he pulled up his own pant leg.
"It may be better if you were lying down..." she suggested.
He gave her a look. "For the millionth time, I am not tired."
"...but I do know that when a man is hungry, a man's hungry," she finished.
She knelt, rerolling Bruce's pant leg since he'd obviously done a terrible job of it himself. She looked up at him, gleam in her eye. "Did Alfred not teach you how to roll your own pant leg?"
He shrugged helplessly. "He might have. I'm just not good at it."
"You're never 'just not good at things.'" She glanced back down and finished guiding the brace around his leg and knee.
She was right. He just didn't care at the moment.
She adjusted the brace again. Bruce's breath hitched. It covered more skin than he imagined, just like the other brace did. Not only that, but his very contraption fulfilled Dr. Chase's diagnosis.
"You ready?" she asked, the warmth of her voice washing over him.
"Lina," he gritted.
"I know, Bruce," she soothed, looking much stronger than he felt. "I know."
She handed him the remote for that brace. Without thinking twice, he pressed the button that would allow the brace to settle around the bone and muscle of his leg.
It was over in seconds. Bruce stared at his legs in part morbid fascination now that they were seemingly trapped forever in these two contraptions.
But deep down, he knew this couldn't allow this to trap him. One way or another, he and Selina would move on with their lives.
He wouldn't let his hope fade that he would be walking with a cane within a month, though he doubted that very idea. He doubted that Dr. Chase had given him the true diagnosis. Instead, he believed he'd given them something more than his condition truly deserved. Maybe even knowing Bruce and Selina needed to hear those words to have hope at all.
As Batman, he'd both reached for and attained the impossible. As a man, he'd hold on to that hope, for Selina and their future children. As a man, he'd take life one day at a time.
For now, he started with staring up longingly at the second floor of his own home. A floor he couldn't get to unless someone carried him up to the top. He would have gone to see Cora in Frederick's stead, had he been able.
He could just picture her tear-stained cheeks and wobbling lower lip, her voice small and precious but sad. He'd do anything to fix it.
"She'll be okay," Selina said, kissing him on the cheek.
"I wish I could do something."
"You can eat and she'll come down when she's ready." Her hands ruffled his hair, an almost childish gesture.
But because it was Selina, it stirred thoughts of holding her in his arms.
He didn't mind the messy hair look. Quite frankly, he wanted his hair a hell of a lot messier. He was also fighting his apprehension, the mere idea of lovemaking actually a little intimidating.
It would not be the same. It couldn't ever be the same. His crippled legs and their braces would always be in the way. Somewhat workable, but eventually weaker because of his injuries. Thinner as weeks passed and he was unable to maintain the same exercise regime as he had in the past. A nuisance. Ultimately holding him back from the passionate, powerful sex they'd had before, when nothing inhibited his physical prowess.
Nothing would ever compare to that again. But it didn't have to, did it? They'd find a way.
She kissed him again, intoxicating him, his unfounded concern fading. He slipped his arm around her waist, hand settling on her hip. Their love was enough. And when the time came, he'd shove his fears aside and be the man Selina deserved.
"They're waiting for us," she whispered.
"I think I may be tired, after all," he whispered back, kissing her cheek when she leaned down for him. "If I take that nap you keep nagging me about, will you stay with me?"
"After we eat," she said. "When Cora comes down, she may want some time together with us, too. I've missed her, Bruce."
He stilled. "Maybe you should go up to talk with her."
"She has her grandfather—and her mother. She'll be alright, Bruce," she said, pushing his chair. "Look at all she's been through. She's a tough little thing."
That was what he was afraid of. Cora didn't need any more on her small shoulders.
oOo
Cora came down from her room with her grandfather ten minutes later, a little teary-eyed but otherwise happy.
She went straight for Bruce.
"Come here," Bruce urged her. She climbed into his lap.
Thinking of his legs and the child's weight and Dr. Chase's warning, Selina opened her mouth to suggest an alternate arrangement. Alfred nudged her with his elbow, stopping her.
"I daresay, Misses Wayne, I do believe they will be fine." He smiled, his gaze flitting to the pair.
"And Dr. Chase?" She ventured, still wanting to say something.
"He's strict because he knows Bruce will always bend the rules," Alfred observed.
His wisdom prompted her to think twice. "She is a little sprite, isn't she," Selina mused.
"Very much so."
"I'm glad you're here. He missed you, Alfred," she said, glancing sideways at him. She also kept one eye on Bruce as he teased Cora.
She frowned. He was ignoring his own food, which would affect his sleeping habits. If that happened, she doubted he'd be able to help with John's training in the morning. Cora now in a fit of giggles, Selina caught his eye.
Eat, she mouthed over Cora's head. He shrugged but grabbed another bite.
"He does get distracted, didn't he?" Alfred smiled.
"He's always been like this, hasn't he?" she pondered aloud.
"Since he donned the mask?" Alfred gave a quick nod. "Yes."
"I'm afraid it will only get worse now," she predicted.
A smile reached Alfred's eyes, comforting her. Maybe that's why she told him in the first place.
"But with you by his side, his lovely pearl diver, he will be just fine now, won't he. I believe the best thing I've ever done for him was give you the key to the east drawing room."
She couldn't smile, thought she wanted to. "I've changed my spots since—"
"Not all of them, I hope," he interjected, expression almost appalled. "That would make life miserable for you both. He needs your spots, just like you need his."
"His spots are nothing like mine," she reminded him.
"That may be so, but just the same," he said, lifting his glass, twinkle in his eye. "Sir Percy said his wife knows all of his talents, but she also knows and bears his faults. I know no other woman who would be up to this momentous challenge."
"Don't put me on a pedestal, Alfred," she warned. She'd have just that much more to fall.
"Of course, not, dear," he said, leaning towards her and patted her hand. "I only mean that you compliment each other quite well. I've seen that only once before in my lifetime."
She knew before she even asked. "When was that?"
Years of grief and love showed in his eyes. "When Mister and Misses Thomas Wayne graced the Manor."
He broke into a tremulous smile before she could say a word. "Now I get to see it all over again, and it gives me great pleasure."
After the meal, Cora tugged on Selina's hand. She held up a new box of crayons.
"Should we give him purple hair again?" Selina whispered conspiratorially. "Or should we go with orange this time?"
Cora giggled and allowed Selina to take her by the hand to the study. They crowded at a small table, coloring. Bruce followed them, settling in his chair in front of the window. After awhile, they stopped their art. Cora shyly showed Selina a new book. One look at the cover and Selina couldn't refuse.
The five year old nestled on her lap, and she began to read the mischievous rabbit's tale aloud. It was a story she'd heard before, making it one of the few good childhood memories she actually had. It was easy to make up voices for all the characters, embellishing the tale with each new page. She felt Bruce's eyes upon her but when she glanced up, his eyes were closed or he was staring out the window. Seemingly content to relax and listen to Selina read.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long.
Bruce finally nodded off, his body relaxing and giving in to the rest he needed. He was the perfect picture of an invalid, sleeping in a wheelchair by the window. It made such a bittersweet scene, she was almost glad Annette in the room with Blake, waking him up ten minutes later.
"Selina, may I speak with you and Mister Way?" Annette asked, tone hushed. "Alone."
Bruce nodded, not making a fuss over the interruption. He came out of his sleep gracefully, though his hair was mussed.
"Alright," Selina agreed, though she hated to interrupt Cora's story and the moment they were having.
Cora must have felt the same way. The girl clung to Selina even when Annette reached to take her.
"Cora," Annette coaxed. "Your grandfather can play with you in your room."
Mouth pressed into a firm line, Cora violently shook her head.
"Sweetheart." Annette knelt down in front of her. "Please."
Cora fisted Selina's shirt, her body completely stiffening.
Selina exchanged a glance with Bruce. His brow knotted, telling her that he, too, was confused by Cora's behavior.
"Cora, please," Annette now pleaded. She tried to sweep her hand over her daughter's hair but she deftly turned her head.
"I'm most certain that I'll need your help making those cookies we talked about earlier, little miss," Alfred suddenly announced from the doorway. He held a tray with several mugs. Coffee, Selina suspected. "Just as soon as I drop off a bit of refreshment."
Cora looked towards the doorway, her eyes brightening. Alfred set down the tray, and before Selina could even help her, she'd climbed off her lap. Cora grasped the elderly man's hand, swinging it up and down as they plodded along, needing no further urging to leave the adults alone.
And, in fact, hardly giving Annette any attention at all.
It made no sense.
She opened her mouth to ask her about it but Bruce quickly warned her with a look to keep quiet.
Annette sighed, her eyes thankfully on her departing daughter rather than on Selina in her confusion. "I apologize for interrupting, but it's imperative that I talk to the both of you as well as John."
"Of course." Bruce wheeled the chair over to the desk.
He grabbed a mug and took a sip of the coffee, waiting. Striking a formidable pose and looking like he could wait all day.
Annette twisted her hands in front of her, gazing at her feet. Selina had simply never seen Annette acting this nervous before.
"What did you need to talk to us about?" Bruce asked, as if to prod her along.
"Yes, Mister Wayne." She looked at him, then, swallowing. "I...I told Cora yesterday morning...that from now on," she hesitated, taking a deep breath. "That from now on she'll have to address you as her mother and father...in...in public."
Selina looked at her in shock. Bruce's entire countenance darkened, mouth opening briefly before snapping shut.
She prayed this was a joke. But it wasn't—she could see it on Annette's face.
"You what?" Selina blurted.
Annette sucked in a sharp breath, looking only at Bruce. "I know what you're thinking Mister Wayne," she whispered. "You're thinking it's not right."
"You're damn right. We're both thinking that," Selina bit out. Glancing at John's shocked face, she added, "All three of us, in fact."
"They're looking for a single mom with a little girl who looks just like Cora. You know they are," Annette pleaded. "Someday, someone will find out. I just know they will. You've taken every precaution, but I can't sleep knowing I could've done something else."
"Then we dye her hair, cut it, give her contacts and then you do the same," Selina countered. "We don't pretend that we're her parents by day and you're still her mother at night."
"It's too late," Annette said in a small voice. "I already talked to three people at the preschool on Linton Street and several moms at the park—they all believe that she's yours. A-and...so does a sociology professor at the university, who was there with his child, too."
Deathly silence hit the room.
Selina was the first to speak, her rage stirring. "I can't believe you did this, Annette."
"I know you don't like it but it's the only way that I can keep her as safe as possible," Annette argued, lifting her chin.
"You'll make Cora so confused, she won't know what to think!" John interjected. "How could you do that to her?"
Seeing that this would only escalate between the the three of them, Selina turned to the one who had to have a solution- but had yet to say a single word. "Bruce?"
His expression revealing nothing, he wheeled his chair up to Annette. He tilted his head back and watched her, the silence unbearable, not one of them knowing what was going on inside Bruce Wayne's head. Not even Selina.
Annette now looked even more nervous than before, if that were possible. A small part of Selina hoped she was nervous. She'd just shoved a huge responsibility upon her daughter's young shoulders.
"I'm not happy with what you did," Bruce finally said. "For Cora's sake, I wish you hadn't done that. What happens when she calls Selina her mother here at home, and not you? When her young mind can no longer distinguish between one of us—and you—as her true parent?"
Annette flinched.
"That said," Bruce continued, his air of authority growing by the second, "I think we would do more harm to change her mind again—"
"You're not seriously considering we go along with this," Selina said, throat constricting.
His eyes hardened. "I am. You forget where Cora has come from. Years of falsehoods, lie stacked upon lie. One must believe one more lie could negate the others." He cocked his head at Annette. "Isn't that right, Annette?"
Annette's face whitened. "I don't know what...what you mean."
"You don't? I'm sure as her mother you have an idea," Bruce said, briefly raising his brows.
"You know," came her strangled response.
"About her birth mother?" he asked, even though he didn't need to question her about it.
It was Bruce giving Annette time to think, time to realize her ruse was up. The woman gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Yes. I do," he said. "Nadine York was her name."
"When?" she choked out.
"Just about the time we left for Europe. I had suspected it, and then John sent me the intel."
"You suspected...and...you...you never said anything..." Annette looked at him, confused. "John never..."
"I was giving you the time to come to me yourself," he gently explained.
She kneaded her forehead, wincing. "I should have told you from the beginning," she said, stumbling to take a seat on the couch. John held her elbow as she sat down.
Bruce's knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheels of his chair. "Yes," he replied. "You should've. It would have made things a lot easier. Especially upon our return. No wonder she was upset after I told her that we—her Aunt Cat and Uncle Alex—brought her back a gift. She's already confused."
"I'm s-sorry," she stammered, covering her mouth with her hand, smothering a single sob. "I-I wouldn't blame you if you kicked us out of your home, Mister Wayne."
"That will never happen. We will work this out," Bruce said, wheeling himself over to her. He stared hard at her, demanding the woman's attention. "However, this will only make things difficult for Cora. But I believe telling turning about and ordering her not to call us her parents in public would do more harm. She may think we don't want her, which would cause more problems of its own."
"I understand," Annette whispered, voice shaking. "I just wanted what's best for her but I made it worse."
"Let's talk about this again tomorrow," he said smoothly, pulling Annette out of her almost-breakdown. "It's been a long couple of days for Selina and for myself. Quite frankly, I do need to rest. My back is aching from traveling and I'm to start exercises on my legs tomorrow."
He was actually admitting to a little weakness? Selina schooled her features before he noticed her surprise.
"Alright," Annette nodded meekly. "If...if you don't mind, I'll go and take care of a few things. I promise to watch Cora so she doesn't get in your way."
"That's not what I meant," Bruce explained gently. "You are not in the way."
"Just the same," she replied, "We will stay out of sight until you have rested, Mister Wayne."
"Don't go too far," he offered a crooked grin. "Cora and Selina didn't finish that book. I was enjoying it myself—until I nodded off."
"She adores you both, Mister Wayne, and not just because you spend time with her," Annette said with a weak smile.
"Annette," Bruce called as the woman had reached the doorway. She paused and glanced back, shoulders tense. "We will discuss this more tomorrow. And...I must say it again. You are not in the way. You are our family here."
"I know," she said quietly.
"She's going to run," Selina said under her breath after their housekeeper had left and John had closed the door behind her.
"That's exactly what this is about," John agreed. "She's going to leave her daughter behind."
"Cora is not her daugher," Bruce pointed out calmly. "At least, she isn't when Annette starts rationalizing things to this extent."
"So you're excusing her for messing with Cora's head," Selina accused.
"I'm not excusing her for anything," Bruce replied. He went to the desk and grabbed his coffee once more, unfazed by her outburst. "I'm saying that it makes sense in Annette's mind. She does love Cora and wants to do everything she can to protect her. But she's always known, always acted on her behalf like she wasn't her real mother. To her, letting us be Cora's visible parents is safer than keeping up her own facade."
"It isn't right," Selina snapped.
"What would you have done, if you'd been in her shoes, Lina?" he asked.
She stared at him, considering the question longer than she should've.
She would have hightailed it out of here a long time ago, leaving Cora with Bruce. She would have left her with them, just as Annette was doing now.
She would have abandoned Cora, too.
She would have abandoned her, too.
"The same thing, Bruce," she admitted, the words burning her as they escaped her lips. "But sooner. Much, much sooner."
"Exactly," he said softly.
John ran his hands through his hair. "All this time that you were away, she had this on her mind. We expected that she thought about running but not this soon. I should've known."
"Don't blame yourself, John. There isn't anything you could do to change her mind," Bruce said, setting down his mug. "I'd hoped that providing them a home for as long as they needed one would've waylaid her thoughts of running. Apparently, it wasn't enough."
It suddenly dawned on Selina why Bruce had been so agreeable to Annette. "You're giving her an out by agreeing to what she said to Cora."
"Yes, I am. It's inevitable that she'll run and leave Cora behind. I think her father's presence here is the only thing preventing her from acting," Bruce paused what he was doing and glanced up at her. "I also believe it would be better for Cora if she had a head start on that transition."
"And that's why you agreed with her ridiculous plan."
"Yes," he nodded.
"It would better for Cora, you're right, but I can't believe Annette is going to abandon her," Selina deflated. "Not after all this time. Not really."
She couldn't help but imagine the heart wrenching scene of a broken Cora learning that Annette had left her. She wished for that day never to come. She wanted to prevent it with her whole heart. She wanted to scream some sense into Annette and beg her not to do this to the little girl.
"If—when—that time comes, Cora may be abandoned. But she won't be alone, Lina," Bruce vowed, eyes full of compassion. "She'll have us."
She came behind him when he returned his attention to the computer. "What are you doing?"
His brow lifted. "Adjusting a few tracking devices." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Care to take care of them?"
"Gladly." She narrowed her eyes on the screen. "Seven more?"
"I don't want to take any chances, Lina," he said apologetically. He turned to Blake. "And if you're willing, when the time comes, you can trail her for a short time and then catch up with her. I'll have a few passports prepared for her, as well as cash and a list of contacts. After that," Bruce paused, frowning. "She'll be on her own. I don't want to approach her before then because I fear she'd run out on Cora even sooner. I'll have to tell Gordon. Just in the off chance she would return to Gotham."
Selina hated to even think of it. "That'd be a death sentence."
"It'd be a fool's choice," Bruce agreed, eyes hooded. "But none of us could actually stop her, Lina. Myself least of all."
"Don't you dare blame this on yourself, Bruce," she ordered.
His expression grew pained. "If I had a different pair of legs—"
"If you had a different pair of legs, you'd still have to hogtie her and bring her back like a damn prisoner in order to save her, Bruce," she argued, "and the second you'd free her she'd just do it again."
He stared at her. "At least that'd give her some extra time to think this through," he replied, as if the idea of imprisoning Annette hardly bothered him. "And I wouldn't hogtie her. I'd sedate her and bring her back to talk."
She certainly knew her husband.
Selina sighed, anyway. "You can't beat yourself up for it. It's just like you told John. You can't blame yourself."
"Lina, the thing is," he said, shoulders slumping, "It just doesn't feel right not to."
oOo
Head pounding and eyes squeezed shut, Lois blindly reached her hand around the shower door for her towel.
But it wasn't there. It must have fallen to the floor. She did have a habit of rushing. Especially on mornings like these. She had too much to juggle, Clark constantly running out on her lately.
Sighing, she steeled herself for a chill and opened the shower door. A bodily form looking exactly like her missing partner monopolized the space directly in front of her.
And he held her towel.
She yelped and hid behind the door. Which was silly, considering Clark's powers.
"What do you think you're doing?" she cried.
"It's just me, Lois," he coughed.
She groaned. That cough was probably covering up a laugh at her sake.
"It's not like I haven't seen you like this before," he stated.
Was he smirking?
No, she decided. Probably not. She wasn't thinking clearly this morning. Clark wasn't a smirker. Though he did have stunning smile.
"That's not the point. You don't scare someone in the bathroom like this. Ever heard of Psycho? The shower scene?" Without waiting for an answer, she held out her hand from behind the door. "Smallville, give me my towel," she huffed.
He handed it to her, expression too sincere for her to be mad at him for anything.
"So, I thought you'd be away again," she commented nonchalantly.
She wrapped the towel around her body without drying herself, watching his form through the screen as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
"No," he said. "I'm not."
He sounded sad. Lois suppressed a sigh. She didn't want him to stop his investigating or whatever he was doing on account of her. She trusted him, even in something like this.
"Is there a reason for that?" she thought to ask as she stepped out.
She looked up at him. His face revealed nothing.
"Clark," she said, fighting a yawn.
"I need to respect them."
That was an odd thing to say. Clark respected everyone. "You haven't been?"
"I…" He inhaled deeply through his nostrils. "It's been difficult to understand the situation without…listening," he finished, exhaling a rush of air.
She almost laughed. "You mean eavesdropping."
He hesitated. "Listening."
"Eavesdropping," she repeated proudly. Because darn it, wasn't she a professional at that, herself?
"Yes," he admitted.
It still shocked her. "You've been spying on them. You. Spying."
She watched his face. If that wasn't a sheepish look, she didn't know what was.
Oh, Clark. "For how long?" she questioned.
His blush deepened. "Long enough to see that he will receive the care he needs. And long enough to see that they aren't bad people," he stated it, as if it justified his actions.
"How much listening? Hours?" Good Lord, she hoped he didn't mean he'd been snooping in all of their affairs.
"I know what you're thinking. It wasn't days, Lois. Just...enough. And when I wasn't scrambling to other places." He frowned. "But there are quite a few pieces are still missing from the puzzle."
She furrowed her brow. "So he was badly hurt? And you feel guilty?"
"I feel a guilt I can't explain, Lois," he said, expression strained. "I want to explain it...to him...to you..."
"So explain it," she suggested. She prayed he'd explain this once and for all before her body dropped to the floor. It felt like a hundred ton weight. If she wasn't so curious to know what Clark had been doing all this time and didn't have to go into work, she would have plopped right down on the floor where she stood. She couldn't remember feeling this tired.
"I can't," he clipped.
"Why not?"
"I need to respect him. To gain his trust. I need to first let him figure out…" he paused.
"Yes?"
"Who I am," he slowly finished.
Lois froze. He couldn't be serious. "You want him to know who you are? Are you crazy? Are you sick?" She reached up and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. "God, Clark, I know you've been superhuman for awhile, your whole life, actually, but you could get sick somehow, couldn't you?"
His mouth quirked. "No, I'm not sick. Nor am I crazy. Trust me, Lois," he said, reaching up and gently grasping her hand, pulling it down. "He'd be a friend. I think we need one. And he does, too."
"How can you be sure he needs a friend?" She narrowed her eyes. He had to have been really spying on them to sound so sure about something like that. "He has a wife. They have a life, I'm sure."
"They do. A good one despite its difficulties, and one that I hope fulfills their dream," he said softly.
"Clark, you just don't tell your secret to anyone. You haven't told anyone." Except for her. "Who is he?"
He shook his head. "I can't say."
"I thought you were fine with flying solo. That other than having me, you were okay. It's been harder than I thought for you, Clark," she murmured, turning away. Head heavy, she allowed her gaze to drop the floor. "I'm sorry I've let you down."
"No, you haven't let me down." Clark placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her. He tilted her chin up with his finger and kissed her soundly on the lips. He smiled before pulling away. "But it is an awful lot for you to bear. And it does get lonely, Lois. Doing this day after day. Making decisions that are usually difficult. Sometimes even impossible decisions. Hiding in plain sight. Taking risks you're not sure you should take. I found someone who understands all that."
"If that's the case, I'm glad you found someone who could possibly understand but..." She brushed back a stubborn lock of his hair that had fallen across his forehead. "Your other comment infers that you discovered they were criminals," she joked.
"Well…about that." He winced.
She blinked. "You can't mean..."
"One...one may have had a..." He stopped.
She crossed her arms, shivering. "A what?"
"A record," he said, wincing again. "And the other - I just can't explain, not yet. It wouldn't be right."
"You want a criminal to know your secret?" She hardly thought that was wise.
"It does sound a little twisted," he admitted. "You have to trust me."
"Will you go back?" If having a friend—this friend—meant this much to Clark, she wasn't sure he wouldn't go back. Especially if the man had been hurt. Clark cared about everyone.
She hoped that whoever this man was, that if he ended up being Clark's friend, he'd be a damn good one. Clark deserved that more than anyone she knew.
"Yes, I'll go back, but not today." He frowned, suddenly staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "You're shivering," he exclaimed, grabbing her robe from the door. "Here," he said, wrapping it around her shoulders.
Lois let her towel fall as he guided her arms into the robe.
She was cold. Achy, too. Her mind heavy, swimming with what he'd just told her.
"I wish I could call in sick today," she muttered.
She never called in sick. But maybe she really was sick. Sick of missing Clark, and maybe even just...sick.
"So do I," he agreed. "So I could take care of you. I think you ran yourself down. You also have a fever."
She rolled her eyes, padding out of the bathroom. "I'll be fine. Besides, Clark, you've missed a lot lately."
"If you call off, then I will."
She shook her head. "So if I jumped off a cliff, then you'd jump, too?"
Clark quirked a brow.
She groaned, smacking herself on the forehead. "I guess that was a pretty stupid thing to say. If I jumped off a cliff, of course you would jump after me. To save me, not necessarily to do what I..."
He looked at her quizzically.
"What I...oh, never mind," she finished, flustered.
She gnawed on her bottom lip, ignoring his bemused expression. She also stared at the bed. And the warm covers. And the warm body that could join her. She half-feared that even if they both called in sick, he'd leave again for part of the day.
"You'll stay?" She could hardly believe she was nearly begging him.
He picked her up without warning and carried her to the bed.
She loved when he did that. And she knew then she had her answer.
"I'll stay," he assured her, his promise washing over her like a warm, soft blanket. "You're sick, Lois."
"I'm sick," she said breathlessly. "Huh."
He pulled the covers up to her chin, but she slipped one hand out just in time.
She reached for her phone, having made her decision. Clark had already dialed the number.
"Perry," she rasped, quite possibly sick as a dog when he picked up. "I won't be in today. I'm sick." She closed her eyes, her achy bones sinking into the mattress. The bed dipped beside her. "Clark is, too."
oOo
Fredericks left for Gotham two weeks later.
Selina felt an odd mixture of relief and apprehension. Relief that time had passed, the days moving along for them. Apprehension because if Annette was going to run, now was the time.
Her father couldn't cast his disapproval. Her father couldn't do a single thing about it. He was back at Wayne Enterprises after an extended leave, taking care of Bruce's legacy while Bruce took care of "his legacy"—Cora.
Annette grew distracted, leaving Cora with Bruce and Selina more than usual. And not just in public. She left multiple miscellaneous motherly duties to Selina while at home. Their routine changed again, and it was Selina making breakfast for Cora, Bruce, Alfred, and John. Annette never showed up at the breakfast table. Alfred and Selina took turns taking the child on walks by the lake and through the small woods each day. Selina gave Cora her baths at night. Once the lift was added to the stairs, Bruce tucked her in at bedtime, book in hand, Annette lurking in the background.
Annette's actions to create more and more distance between her and Cora became the elephant in the room.
When he wasn't training John or lifting weights, Bruce poured hours into Cora's happiness as well as her education. Keeping the balance, trying to compliment him the best she could, Selina religiously helped him with the therapy for his legs. But it was tedious. Often times excruciating, as it directly affected his back, which had its own managed problems.
The doctor's diagnosis became an even harsher reality. Bruce would never walk again without an aid and, even then, it would always be with great difficulty. Nurturing and caring for Cora was the best distraction Bruce could possibly have. Bruce's new part-time position at the university, starting in the fall, was the second best distraction.
They pressed on and made connections with the administration of the local orphanage, even enrolled in an online class their state required for parents looking to adopt. Fox sent them a long-awaited message about Caller. He was closer to agreeing to the job offer, but had not given a definite 'yes.' Bruce countered, asking Fox to pass on an ultimatum that the job offer expired in ten days. They'd wait only that much longer before pursuing an alternative.
Selina thought Caller would readily accept if he actually knew it was Bruce offering him the job, not merely 'Alex Stonestreet.' But Bruce refused to reveal himself, at least not yet. He said he wanted to make sure Caller really wanted to do this without a shadow of a doubt, without any other factors influencing his decision.
While they waited, they realized Cora would most likely be the first child they'd actually adopt. And if not formally, she'd be their daughter, nonetheless.
Another week passed, and they both knew the time was drawing near. Blake was on edge more than any of them. Old criminals had reemerged through the cracks in Gotham, joining the ranks of the new, beckoning a vigilante to find them. Bruce held John back, wanting to train him more before he immersed himself into that life. John agreed, of course, because it was Bruce. A little reluctantly, though. Well, maybe with a lot of reluctance. But he did understand and respected Bruce's decision.
And then there was Annette. It was up to John to trail her the second she took off. They already knew she'd purchased various supplies and several hair dye kits. She'd also looked into a rental car while out shopping for the weekly household groceries.
Bruce took it all in stride. He never faltered, never gave their housekeeper a reason to doubt that things were as they appeared on the surface.
On the day he had a follow up with Dr. Chase for his legs, he asked Selina and Cora to take him, not Alfred.
"Whatever for?" Selina wondered.
Cora sat at the table, helping her eat a bowl of fresh green grapes.
"I thought that after my appointment, we might stop in town at the one place Cora likes so much," he said with a smile. He reached over and grabbed a bunch of grapes, popping one into his mouth.
"The par-lour?" Cora breathed, twirling one of her pigtails.
Bruce finished chewing and gave her a mock frown. "There isn't another place you like better than the ice cream parlor, is there?"
"No," she grinned, legs pumping under her chair.
He broke into a grin, wheeling backwards. "Good. I'll tell Alfred and then we can leave."
She glanced over at him once they arrived at the hospital. "You ready?"
"It's been a month," he said quietly. "A long, tedious month."
"You haven't been able to start walking yet, Bruce," she whispered, so Cora couldn't overhear.
He looked at her grimly. "I know."
Bruce went into the room alone, leaving Selina with Cora. She applied disinfectant to Cora's hands after one runny-nosed toddler left the room—and the now germ-ridden toys he'd played with in the corner.
Cora's nose wrinkled. "Mommy," she whispered. "Can I sit on your lap?"
Selina sighed with relief she'd shown no interest in those toys. "Yes," she said, scooping her up and holding her tightly.
The woman across from them smiled. "Your daughter is beautiful."
Selina smiled sweetly. "Thank you."
"She's how old? Four? Five?"
"About."
"Enjoy these times, my dear," the woman twittered. "It goes by in a blink of an eye. Will you have another? Are you able to?"
"I-I'm not sure. M-maybe but I-I..." Selina stuttered purposefully, having expected that same question but simply not wanting anymore.
"Oh, my, I am sorry," the woman stammered, flustered. "I know better than to ask a woman a question like that. I hope I didn't offend you."
"It's okay. No harm done," Selina placated her, hoping the woman would be quiet now.
She was. Even better, she left before Bruce was done.
"The doctor asked for you to come back," the nurse said, smile warm.
Cora in her arms, Selina followed the nurse into the room.
She didn't expect to see Bruce standing with his cane, taking a step. "Bruce?" she asked, heart in her throat.
"Daddy!" Cora exclaimed, wiggling out of her hold.
Dr. Chase laughed, catching her before she ran into Bruce. "Hold on, buttercup. Just watch what he can do."
Cora nodded, eyes wide.
"Okay," the doctor said. "Bruce?"
Holding her breath, Selina watched as he took another step.
It was awkward. It was a feeble step.
The next one looked equally as difficult.
"I can stand," he said, smiling widely. "And walk. It's slow, as all the steps will be now."
"But it's a step,' she said, biting her lower lip. The back of her eyes burned. She came over to him and clutched his waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm so happy," she whispered, voice quaking.
"I love you," he breathed into her ear. "It's because of you, you know. Your patience with me."
Dr. Chase cleared his throat. "I know it took a lot of work to get this far, but you must maintain your efforts—to a degree."
"His posture? His back?" She thought to ask. It was one thing that worried her, having noticed the discomfort in his back that often went hand in hand with the therapy for his legs.
"I do realize those are concerns, and they should be," Dr. Chase said warmly. "He must back off with the exercises somewhat. He is pushing himself too much, and we will have to err on the side of caution. I will rewrite the exercise regime and send it today."
It sounded like they were going backwards. She caught Bruce's eye.
He nodded. "It's okay, Lina. I've made peace with this. I won't be able to even stroll, I can't do anything without the chair or cane, but on good days, I'll walk, nonetheless." He looked tenderly at Cora. "And I'm here, with both of you. That's more than I could ever ask."
"Medication will be a key factor to those good days," Dr. Chase advised. "Don't be afraid to use what I give you. It's non-habit forming, as you requested."
"Thank you," Bruce said, holding out his hand.
Dr. Chase set Cora on the ground. He shook Bruce's hand, grinning. "I'll see you in four weeks, sooner if Thomas is ready. I think he will be." He tugged one of Cora's pigtails. "Eat some ice cream for me, buttercup."
Following Bruce as he wheeled himself into the ice cream parlor, Selina felt a thousand years younger. Not that the follow-up appointment had been filled with good news. It hadn't been, at least not in the traditional sense. But it had shown her that Bruce was still strong, still enduring, and loved them both.
Just like Bruce had said, she, too, couldn't ask for anything more.
After placing their orders, Selina turned around and found Bruce reading a posting on the bulletin board.
A circus, featuring The Flying Graysons.
She could just imagine Cora's excitement over acrobats and elephants and tightrope walkers.
"We should take her," Selina suggested, helping Cora adjust her grip on her cone.
"You should take me," Bruce said with a crooked, boyish grin that melted her heart.
Her mouth twitched. "So we'll all go. One adult, two children," she decided, licking her own chocolate cone. "It's in three weeks."
"Three weeks," Bruce echoed. "I hope I remember that."
When no one was looking, Selina unpinned the posting from the bulletin board and slipped it into her purse. Just to make sure he didn't forget.
They didn't stay. The sun was shining too brightly for them to remain indoors. They ate their ice cream cones on the bench right outside the building
"Let's go to the park," Bruce exclaimed when he was nearly done. He pulled his shades from his pocket and put them on.
"Perfect idea." Selina didn't even have to look at Cora to know her say in the matter.
She did, anyway, and was rewarded with a sweet smile that only Cora could give.
Bruce hummed noncommittally a moment later. "Huh," he said.
"What is it?" Selina asked.
"I could've sworn I just saw a certain journalist walk out of the bookstore down the street, his nose in a paper."
She looked, and saw no one. In particular—no one who looked like Clark Kent.
"There's no one there, Alex," she said as two elderly women passed them on the sidewalk.
"This is crazy," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "Let's head to the park. Otherwise, I'll just keep seeing reporters step out of establishments."
Using his improved upper body strength, Bruce deftly pulled himself onto the passenger's seat, even folded up the wheelchair on his own. Selina slipped it into the backseat.
She first stopped at a gas station and bought a loaf of bread before heading for the park. They found a bench near a dozen ducks that was partially hidden by two trees. It was the perfect place for privacy around the pond.
Once Cora was completely enthralled with feeding the ducks, Selina decided it was time to tell Bruce what had happened at the masquerade. They'd discussed it once before, now nearly four weeks ago, but she wasn't sure he'd been able to listen well enough at that time. They'd just arrived home, for one, and then Annette had revealed her unwise decision. Selina had also called the hospital at that time, checking to see if the hospital staff had accidentally allowed other visitors into Bruce's room, but they had not. If he thought he saw Mister Kent today, it meant he was reconsidering the possible dangers.
"Now might be a good time to go over what happened to Sir Percy and Marguerite again," she suggested. "That is, if you want to."
"Just the facts," he murmured, giving Cora a sideways glance.
She recounted everything she could remember, down to when and who said what. He merely listened, waiting until she was finished before commenting.
"Lina, did you say you gave Leslie's name to both Miss Lane and Mister Kent?" He questioned her.
Selina's head shot up. "I didn't give her name to either of them. I gave Miss Lane just the contact number. I'd hoped to keep Leslie's name a secret from at least Mister Kent."
"You just told me that he said Leslie's name after Miss Lane had left," Bruce said matter-of-factly.
They stared at each other.
Oh, hell.
"I did, didn't I?" she asked, though it was obvious. Quite obvious. She'd screwed up.
"I guess you did," he nodded.
"How did I miss that?" Selina said in disgust.
Bruce shrugged.
"How did I miss that?" she repeated, hissing the words.
"Happens to the best of us," he smirked.
"So where does this leave us?"
"Well, he couldn't have known her name unless he had somehow caught a glimpse of your contact list. Or, unless one of you told him yourselves." He paused, quirking a brow at her.
"He never looked at my phone long enough to do that. And we never stated Leslie's name," she affirmed.
He nodded. "Right. So somehow, he got the information from your phone, standing several feet away and hands free of any device. Also, according to you, he was quick on his feet, revealed a smooth sense of strength, and was most frank with you at the end. Interesting, since he's normally clumsy and socially awkward."
"And he couldn't have gotten the contact list from the phone, not unless he..." Selina stared at him, voice fading.
"... had a powerful set of eyes which he hid behind glasses," Bruce deadpanned.
She almost couldn't believe to what he was inferring. "That about sums it up."
"I suppose I could pull up similar photos of the reporter and his possible alter ego," Bruce mused. "Then run several facial recognition tests."
"Yes, I suppose you could," she stated. "It's only normal to suspect that a reporter is a flying vigilante."
"Absolutely normal," Bruce said nonchalantly.
"Just like a reporter could suspect a playboy is an ex-vigilante."
"Of course."
"And then follow him," she mused. "For days."
"Seems that way."
"We may soon know who we're dealing with."
He nodded. "I guess we will."
She suddenly had an idea. "What will you do? If the tests show that you did see a Mister Kent?"
He sighed and began wheeling towards Cora. "Keep it a secret."
"And?"
He looked back. "Does it matter?"
"I guess...not really."
"If he is ...him...then we know and that's that."
"You could send a message," she suggested, coming to stand beside him. "I think he was concerned."
"No," he shook his head. "There's too much here to distract him."
She narrowed her eyes. "You mean to say that even if you'd become friends with this kindred spirit, you'd ultimately be a burden to him?"
"Yes."
"You shouldn't think that way."
"Lina." Somber, he glanced up at her.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"This could all be in our heads. You know our imaginations."
She smirked. Yes, she did. "It could also be what you think it is."
"Not even a year retired and I'm losing my touch," he muttered.
"No, that's not it. You see that little girl?" She inclined her head towards Cora, who had made friends with the ducks, chattering to them. "Your mind was on all the right things. They were on her."
"I adore her, Lina," he murmured. "But if Annette changes her mind—"
"You know she won't," Selina said before he could utter the words she simply didn't want to hear.
"I just don't want her to get hurt," he whispered.
Selina fell silent. No matter what happened, Cora was going to get hurt.
"I think—I may not run those tests until tomorrow," he said slowly.
"Why not?" She asked, going over to Cora, who waved goodbye to her new little friends.
"I have a feeling our lives are going to change again. Because of many things, not just because a man in red and blue gave me water. And maybe...having a little control and stopping it from happening today would be a good thing." He hesitated. "For all of us."
"If that's what you want," she said.
Cora skipped happily up to him.
He pulled her onto his lap and into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair. He hugged her for an eternity.
And never replied.
oOo
Caller agreed to the job offer the next day. He'd arrive later in the week to meet his 'new employer' face-to-face. Selina left to inspect the apartment for the lawyer and finalize what was needed to furnish the place, leaving Alfred and Annette with Cora.
Bruce slipped into the training room where John waited. He'd already pulled up the photographs.
"This is it," he announced as Bruce wheeled over. "You do the honors."
He stood and made room for Bruce.
"I guess I waited long enough," Bruce admitted.
"I think you haven't worried about it because instinctively, you already know it's true," John theorized correctly.
Hand poised over the console, Bruce paused. He glanced up at him. "This will change things, you know."
"I'm thinking for the better. He seems like a good guy." John furrowed his brow. "Maybe all of this was just his way of extending his hand of friendship. Giving you time."
Bruce pressed the controls.
Author's Note: A Bruce and Clark meet up is definitely coming up in the next few chapters. :) There are quite a few references in this one - looking forward to your thoughts.
No promises, but I'll try to get another chapter up, soon. Hopefully, within two weeks. I feel like I'm really in the "zone" for this again, and that's good. I'm so excited about that. And I'm dying to keep sharing this story with you. I just hope my own health and life in general allow me to keep bringing you more timely updates. Crossing my fingers! Please, please please review! Even a "hello" is appreciated! Those comments are great inspiration! :)