This is for itickledthesleepingdragon on Tumblr. Unfortunately they did not receive anything from their WonderBat Secret Santa so Maiden and I decided to insure everyone that participated received something. I'm sorry it took this long to get it to you, but I hope you enjoy it.
There's something so invigorating about a good sparring session. The way my heart pounds as my breathing quickens, the way my mind races as it thinks of strategies to win….it's addicting and I can never seem to get enough. It is a part of who I am. I will always love the thrill of a good sparring session, but since coming to Man's World it's been hard to find a good partner.
Shayera was always eager to fight, willing to help sharpen both of our skills as warriors, and for a time that was nice. But after her betrayal, and subsequent absence from the league, it was never the same. Even when she had returned something was different. The trust was gone, and although we were still trying to build that trust back up, it was different.
Clark had sparred with me a few times, and although we had similar strength, he held back. Clark was a gentleman in every aspect. He still felt uneasy about hitting a woman, even if she was running towards him, sword raised and ready to strike.
Then there was Bruce. He was weaker than me, physically, but he had the mind of a warrior. He was strategic. He was cunning. He was charming. And he saw past the fact that I was a woman, and treated me as an equal. Bruce didn't hold back when we sparred. He gave it his all, and I appreciated that more than anything.
"You're distracted."
My eyes tear away from the man sitting at the other end of the room and I quickly raise my staff, blocking the blow that my partner delivered. He huffs in annoyance, dissatisfied that he was unable to land a blow, before he steps back, letting his staff fall to his side. "Sorry," is all I can say, before I turn to face my current partner, trying to hide the grin on my face.
Damian, like his father, was a fierce little warrior. He was meticulous, he was smart, and due to his upbringing with the League of Shadows, he was extremely skilled. However, unlike his father, he was rash, often acting without much thought. He relied on skills and power in a fight, which left many vulnerabilities. Bruce saw these, and although he tried to teach Damian to fight more methodically, the young boy fought him. He knew Bruce was only trying to help, trying to hone his skills into becoming a better Robin, but he didn't think there was much a mortal man could teach him. His grandfather had been Ra's Al-Ghul. Who was Bruce to teach him more?
That was when Bruce approached me. At first he was hesitant, not wanting to ask something of me that he deemed his responsibility. He was Damian's father. He was supposed to raise him the best he could. But I was quick to remind Bruce that as a friend I was more than happy to help train one of the future heroes of this world, but as his girlfriend I was more than happy to help his son in whatever he needed.
Bruce and I had only been dating for a few months, and we were still teetering on where our relationship was, but we had been friends for years before. I was there when Damian was thrown into his life a year and a half ago, and although I'd never had children of my own, or had grown up around kids, I helped Bruce any way I could. Plus, Damian was more enthusiastic learning from an Amazon than his slightly overprotective father.
"If you wanted to gawk at my father, I could leave you two alone," Damian says, bringing me out of my thoughts. I turn to face the boy, watching as he smirks, that stupid smirk his father always seems to wear, and chuckle.
"No, no," I say, shaking my head. "I can do that later, when we're alone." I give the young boy a wink and watch as he grimaces at my comment before I pull the staff up and point toward him. I hear Bruce chuckle from across the room and my smile grows when I realize he has heard my comment. I sneak another glance at the man dressed as Gotham's vigilante, watching as he continues to type on the computer that lights up his corner of the cave. His eyes glance up over the monitor and we make eye contact. My smile turns into a small smirk and he mirrors the action, before he turns his attention back to the screen.
My grip on the staff tightens and I raise my arm, quickly turning toward Damian before I swing at the boy. His eyes widen and he steps back. He raises the staff and blocks my next swing, however the force I have behind it forces his feet to slide across the cave's floor. "What was that for?" he whines. "I'm not the one getting distracted by my father."
I only chuckle, watching as he twirls the staff in his hands, fending me off. "You must be ready for anything," I answer. Without another word I pull off my tiara and toss it toward Damian, watching as his attention focuses on it. It bounces off his staff and falls to the floor and I use the opportunity to run towards him and strike once more. He jumps back and spins, letting his cape twirl, covering his hand that is no doubt reaching for his utility belt. Sure enough, Damian faces me and slams a smoke pellet onto the ground, enveloping his small frame in a cloud of dark smoke.
I turn and let my eyes focus on the dark corners in the cave above, trying to find some sort of indication of where Damian is hiding. I am so focused looking at the ceiling, I don't hear Damian land behind me until it is too late; he's stealthy and sneaky, just like his father. He lands a kick to my left calf and I stumble forward, shocked. Still, that doesn't stop the sly smirk that forms on my face when I realize how determined he is to show me how much he's learned.
I turn to face Damian, watching as he spins his bo staff once more, before he raises his hand and waves me over mockingly. He is cocky just like Bruce. With another grin I tighten my grip on my own wooden staff and bring it to my leg, snapping it in two against my knee. I throw the two pieces at Damian, watching as he flinches and covers his face, before I slide towards the boy, kicking his feet out from under him.
Damian quickly catches himself and flips up, regaining his balance. He swings his staff and strikes me in the shoulder. It is all the motivation he needs. He swings the staff once more, hitting me in the abdomen. With a grin, he twirls and jumps, throwing a few birdarangs my way. I quickly block them with my bracers, listening to the small clink they make against the accessories on my wrist. It is the only distraction he needs.
Damian sweeps my legs with his staff and I fall to the ground with a groan. He quickly steps on my chest and pushes the end of his staff against my neck. The metal is cold and my bare shoulders are freezing against the cold floor of the cave, but I can't help but feel pride at how far he's come. "You've been bested," he states, the grin on his face widening as he continues to breathe heavily.
I only give him a small nod and flash him a smirk of my own. "Good," I respond. "But you're still unprepared." With that, my hands wrap around his ankle and I twist and pull, bringing him down to the floor with a thud. He huffs out in anger before he lays his head down and groans.
He stands and adjusts his belt, before he offers me a hand. He pulls me up when my hand finds his. "Again," he says.
I glance over at Bruce, who is trying not to let the chuckle that is at his lips slip out. "That is enough for tonight," I say. I watch as he once again huffs in anger before he pulls his mask from his sweat covered face.
"Thank you, Diana," he says after a moment. He quickly offers me a small smile and I know he is trying to keep the happy grin from his face. He won't admit it, but I know he enjoys our sparring session. Bruce has told me on multiple occasions Damian has asked when I would be coming to the manor again; he's just as smitten as his father.
"You're welcome, Damian," I say. "You did very well." I watch as he gives me a small nod, before he walks away towards the back of the cave.
When I know that he is gone, I carefully walk to where Bruce sits. I watch as he continues to type on the computer, his gaze never leaving the screen as I take a seat on the desk beside the computer. "He is learning very well," Bruce says.
I only nod. "Do you think I'm being too hard on him?"
Bruce stops his typing and turns to me, letting our eyes meet. He lays back in his chair and offers me a small smile. "You're a wonderful mentor, and he looks up to you," he responds. "I've noticed he's been a lot more strategic when we go out on patrol. More patient. You've done that."
"He's a smart boy," I begin, "Just like his father." Bruce chuckles and offers me another smile. He turns his chair and I take the opportunity to take a seat on his leg, smirking when he clears his throat. "Same time next week?" I ask. He reads something on the screen before he relaxes back into his chair. He knows the question has a double meaning but he doesn't answer fearing Damian is still within earshot.
He opens his mouth to speak but before he is able to answer an alarm goes off. He sits up and I get off his leg as he begins to look at the alarm on the monitor. "What is it?" I ask. I watch as Damian runs back into the cave, his mask firmly placed back on his face.
"Penguin," Bruce answers. He pulls his cowl over his face and stands, before he rushes to where the Batmobile is parked. He watches as Damian jumps on his motorcycle and speeds off before he jumps into the Batmobile's driver's seat. He watches as I jump into the Batmobile beside him but he makes no attempt to tell me I can't come with him; he knows I won't listen. Without another thought he slams his foot onto the gas and speeds off toward the threat.
"We can't let him get away with DeMarko," Bruce growls. He continues to crouch behind a fallen pillar, watching as Penguin and a few of his goons stalk a taller man, forcing him into a corner.
When Bruce, Damian, and I had arrived at the newest casino in Gotham's financial district, Bruce knew who Penguin had come for. Giovanni DeMarko had come into Gotham without a care of its citizens, terrorizing those who were unfortunate to rely on the slumlords of the city to stay off the streets. He was a vile excuse of a man, using fear and terror tactics to force others to do his bidding. He was corrupt, and that corruption, as Bruce had learned, had leaked into the Gotham Police Department; Batman and Jim Gordon were working tirelessly on trying to find those in DeMarko's pocket. But as the godson of the one and only Carmine Falcone, DeMarko was essentially untouchable.
Bruce had been working for months to try and bring him down. He knew that DeMarko's fall would eventually bring Falcone's. What he hadn't expected was DeMarko to step over Carmine and go after the other crime lord's in Gotham. DeMarko had attempted to go after Salvatore Maroni and his assets, but his attempts were quickly stopped by Batman and Robin. Not, however, before the damage had been done. Maroni had lost millions, but he hadn't been the only one affected by DeMarko's actions. Oswald Cobblepot had slowly been building his criminal empire, wanting Gotham for himself, and he was just as ruthless as any of the other crime bosses in the city. He was willing to hurt, maime, and even kill to get what he wanted. And the day DeMarko's men turned the Iceberg Lounge into a pile of ash, Penguin had moved him to number one on his hit list.
Bruce had told me of this power struggle in Gotham. He would often spend late nights staring at his computer, wondering where DeMarko had fled to; he had gone into hiding when he realized what a mistake it had been to attack both Maroni and Cobblepot in the same week. It wasn't until recently that DeMarko had resurfaced, just in time for the grand opening of the Lucky Eagle: Gotham's newest casino and Carmine's newest front for his criminal enterprise.
I watch as Bruce surveys the room around us. Half of the machines are busted, glass litters the floor, and there is a small fire at the end of the room. When we had arrived, Penguin and his men had already trashed the place, wanting to cause as much damage as they could. An eye for an eye was the motto of the criminal enterprise here in Gotham, but I feared it would be much worse had we not arrived when we had.
We had done well in getting everyone to safety. Damian had rushed to find the computers in the underground offices, knowing this was the perfect opportunity to hack Carmine's system and gain information that he had tried to hide for years. Bruce and I had been busy fighting off both Penguin's and DeMarko's men.
Bruce tosses a smoke pellet on the ground, encasing us in a dark cloud of smoke, and we use it to our advantage as we jump away from the barrage of gunfire that has been almost non stop. He points towards Penguin and I nod, knowing what his plan is. He wants me to separate the two. Without a word I fly down in between the two men, using my bracers to deflect the bullets that are shot toward me, before I pull my lasso out and wrap it around an unsuspecting DeMarko. He drops his gun as I pull on the lasso, tightening it around his body, before I pull him into my arms and take to the sky once more. DeMarko struggles in my arm, screaming and cursing at me as I bring us to the top of the building.
"You don't belong here," he says. His words are full of anger. He is mad The Batman is not the only one he needs to worry about in Gotham now.
"Neither do you," I say. I spot the patrol cars that have started to make their way to the casino and lift DeMarko back into my arms. I jump off the building, a smirk on my face when he begins to scream once more, before we are flying towards the cars. The flashing blue and red lights dance on my face and I can't help but chuckle when I look down at the man who has been reduced to tears in my arms.
We land in front of one of the cars, watching as the officer hits his brakes and pulls over. "Wonder Woman," he whispers. There have been rumors that I have been here in Gotham, helping The Batman, much to Bruce's dismay, but some people still do not believe I would waste my time in a city so doomed. Had I listened to my mother, they would be right. Gotham has such a bad reputation, crime fills the streets, and nothing good rarely comes from it. But it is Bruce's city. He loves it, and I love him, and although it has its problems, it is still my job to protect man, even from themselves.
"Officer," I say, nodding my acknowledgment. I quickly unwrap the lasso from DeMarko and shove him toward the officer, who only handcuffs the man and slams him into the backseat of his car. I give the officer a small wink before I am in the air flying toward the casino, ready to help Bruce end this fight.
When I land inside the casino, I see Bruce standing in the corner. He fends off two of Penguin's men, while on the floor are three other men lying unconscious. I can't help but grin as I watch Bruce deliver a jaw shattering punch to one of the men. My grin, however, falters when I see him stumble backwards clutching his ribs. He's hurt, and he won't last long if I don't help him.
I take a step toward Bruce when something, or rather someone, catches my eye. I turn and stare at the man sneaking behind fallen pillars and broken machines. He is the reason we are here, and while Bruce is busy dealing with this man's lackeys, I will handle him myself. I run up to the man, quickly grabbing him by the collar, forcing him to the ground. He lets out a shriek, surprised by my sudden attack.
"Wonder Woman," he growls. His face scrunches before he starts to laugh, pulling something from his jacket pocket. He jabs the tip of his umbrella into my side and I am unable to stop him before he sends a jolt of electricity through my body. It stings, but it won't kill me. However, when Penguin begins to laugh, I realize he isn't through with me just yet. He presses the umbrella into my shoulder, letting another jolt of electricity flow through my body, and as I fall to my knees, I am unable to help the groan that escapes my lips.
"Looky here," he says. He quickly whips the umbrella, slapping my cheek with the handle, before he lets out another giggle. "I'll finally get to kill Batman's sidekick."
I rise to my feet and furrow my brows. Bruce was always so insistent that Gotham was too dangerous for me. Tonight will not be the night I prove him to be right. I grin at Penguin and wipe the small amount of blood from my lip with my thumb, before I shrug my shoulders. "I'm not so easy to kill," I state. "And I'm not Batman's sidekick."
Penguin laughs. "Deary, you're not the one I was referring to." He pulls another gadget from his pocket and presses it with an eerie laugh, nodding towards the ceiling behind us.
Against better judgement I glance over my shoulder to see Damian shoot his grappling gun into the ceiling, before my eyes lock on the object that had been hidden until now. I reach my hand out, trying to warn him, but before I can say anything, Damian jumps off the ledge and is swinging. He is midair when the bomb goes off, startling him, and he loses his grip on the gun. My eyes widen as I watch the boy who I've grown to love like my own child fall.
I run as fast as my legs will carry me, praying to the gods that I will be fast enough. I watch as he presses the buckle of his belt, forcing the smaller emergency grappling hook to latch onto the wall. It stops his fall momentarily, but the force of his descent sends him straight into the wall, letting his head smash into the concrete. The cable carrying him fails under the stress and he falls, only this time I am right beside him and able to catch the unconscious boy. My hand immediately goes to his bleeding head and I look up to see Bruce staring at me. His breathing is erratic and his eyes are wide; he needs to know his son is alive. I give him a small nod and he breathes a small sigh of relief, before he grips the man in front of him and plows his knee into his face, rendering him unconscious. He makes his way over to where I sit cradling Damian, throwing a few batarangs towards where Penguin runs.
"Get him to the cave," he says. His voice is low and I can tell he is trying to hide the fear he feels. He will never forgive himself if anything happens to Damian.
I only nod, stand, and cradle Damian closer to my body as I fly through the room that fire has now spread throughout. I expect to see Bruce following, but when I see him run after Penguin, I know his fight is not over yet. Without another thought I fly as quickly as I can to the cave.
When I arrive, Alfred is already waiting with a table and supplies ready. Bruce must've contacted him while I was in route. I carefully place the still unconscious boy on the table and Alfred shakes his head, disturbed by how hurt he is. "Oh my," he says, rolling up his sleeves. He carefully takes Damian's head in his hands and accesses the damage, a small sigh of relief when he notices the blood is only coming from a cut below his ear. "Right, I'll get young Master Wayne bandaged up and call Ms. Thompkins to come and assess all his injuries." He looks up at me and takes notice of how filthy my uniform is. It is covered in dirt and sweat, there are a few scrapes and cuts along my legs from shattered glass, and my lip is still bleeding.
It is only when Alfred makes a comment do I realize I've been staring at Damian too long. "He'll be alright, Miss Diana," Alfred states. He's worked alongside Bruce long enough to know when an injury should be worried about. "He'll have quite a headache when he wakes up, and I suspect quite a concussion, but Leslie and I can look after him." He places a hand on my shoulder, offering me solace. "I suspect Master Bruce is still taking care of other matters."
My eyes widen as I realize Bruce is still fighting by himself, injured, and worried about his son. I need to get back to him. I only nod. Alfred responds with a nod of his own. "Go. I'll stay here with him."
I nod, give Alfred a sad smile, and rush out of the cave. My hand rises to my ear and hits the comlink I have that connects me to every member of the League. "Batman," I say, hoping to hear his gruff voice. He doesn't respond and my heart sinks. Usually he will at least acknowledge he has heard my message before ignoring me. "Wonder Woman to Batman," I try once more. Once again, it is silent, and I quicken my pace.
My heart begins to race and I worry over the thoughts that invade my mind. Has Bruce become too hurt? Has he done something he will regret? Is he alive? I don't know what to think, nor do I know if Bruce will be okay until he sees Damian, but what I do know is I need to find him.
The casino quickly comes into view. The entire building is on fire and the closer I get, the more I can see it is leaning toward the right; the bomb Penguin let off damaged too much of the supporting beams and it won't be long before the building collapses. "Batman," I call through the comlink once more. My voice is thickened with desperation as I pray to hear Bruce give any sort of acknowledgment that he has at least heard me: a grunt, a moan, a curse, anything at this point will give me some relief. But he doesn't say anything and my heart drops.
"Diana." The voice rings in my ear and I want to respond, but I only shake my head, letting myself know I need to get to Bruce before I can answer. "Diana." Clark's voice is more insistent. He's been the one on monitor duty tonight. He knows I've been calling for Bruce and wants to know what is wrong.
I only tap the comlink once, silencing Clark before I continue toward the building, however I stop when I see the roof begin to crumble. I watch in horror as the building begins to collapse, but there is nothing more I can do. My only hope is to imagine Bruce was able to make it out before it came crumbling down.
I watch as the building is reduced to rubble. Wasting no more time, I rush to the pile of stone and concrete, watching as the flashing lights from the oncoming fire trucks and police cruisers light up the streets that have been covered with dust and ash. When I land in the middle of what used to be the main room, the room where Damian was hurt, I glance all around. The dust that remains in the air clings to my sweat clad skin, and I know I will need a shower later, but all of that can wait until after I find Bruce.
I hit my com link once more, calling Batman's name again. My heart sinks, however, when I turn and notice something on the ground. I bend down to pick it up, an uneasy feeling in my chest. It's Bruce's utility, smashed to pieces. I take another look at the ground and notice half of his cowl is laying on the ground; one of his pointy ears lays on the floor under broken glass, while a piece containing one of his white lenses burns near my boots. But that isn't the most disheartening thing I find. Beside the smashed belt is his comlink and blood- fresh blood- and I know it's Bruce's. There is a trail of it that leads to the next room, where I find a smeared hand print on the seared wall, and the small glimmer of hope that I have makes me realize that maybe he made it out. Maybe he got out just in time.
I quickly run out of the building, out into the alley where he had parked the Batmobile and take notice of its absence. There are only three people that the car would open for, and two of them are at the cave. I quickly break into a sprint, jumping into the air and flying as quickly as I can to the cave, hoping to find Bruce bloodied, but alive.
When I get to the cave I notice Alfred is not alone. He tends to Damian's cuts and bruises, making casual conversation with the extra pair of hands - but they do not belong to the person I long to see. Dr. Thompkins works diligently with Alfred, carefully working around Damian, using precise movements to avoid the boy's head as it rests tightly bandaged up.
I walk up to the two, my legs heavy at the thought that maybe Bruce didn't make it out of that building. Alfred looks up and takes notice of me. Our eyes meet and he raises an eyebrow. "Miss Diana," he says cautiously.
I glance up at the man. "Please tell me Bruce is here," I say. My voice is shaky. It mirrors my body as the realization that Bruce might be back in that pile of rubble starts to set in.
Alfred only shakes his head. "I'm afraid not," he says. He looks at my face and notices the tears that have started to well up in my eyes, before he lets out a small gasp. "Oh dear," he says, realizing the man he loves as a son may never come back.
I wipe away the tears that have started to fall, letting the heel of my hand wipe at the dirt that covers my cheeks. I can hear Alfred mumble something, but I am unable to comprehend his words. He places a hand on my shoulder but everything seems as if it is a blur.
"Diana."
Once again Clark's voice rings in my ear. "Not now," is all I can say to Clark, and I hope my voice doesn't come across as shaky as I feel.
It is silent for a moment as what happened hits me. I realize I need to go back, I need to at least find his body before anyone else does. I stand, having not realized I had been leaning against Bruce's desk, and clear my throat, watching as Alfred shakes his head, letting me know I need to rest. I only shake mine in response. I will rest when he's back with us.
I turn to walk out of the cave when a bright light illuminates the dark cave. I realize it's the transporter Bruce had installed in the cave. I watch as a figure steps out of the light and into the cave, his fists clenched as he steps off the transporter. His cape shifts with the breeze that blows through Bruce's work space and his eyes furrow when he sees me. "Diana," he says once more, pleading for me to listen to him this time.
I only shake my head. "I can't Kal," I say, "Not right now."
Clark steps in front of me and places his hand on my shoulder, stopping me where I stand. "He's alive."
I continue to rush through the halls of the Watchtower, ignoring the confused and concerned looks from other members as I push past them towards the infirmary. Clark is hot on my heels and tries to avoid running into other members as I weave in between people. When he came into the cave and told me Bruce was alive, I knew I had to come for him. He told me of how Bruce contacted him when the building was on fire. He told me he came rushing to find Bruce, getting to him moments before the building came down. He told me how he rushed him to the Watchtower, knowing J'onn would be able to stabilize him faster than Alfred could. It was why he had tried contacting me earlier.
I turn the corner, dodging Wally as he flirts with Fire. He raises an eyebrow as he glances my way and I offer him a small apologetic smile before I continue down the hall toward the steel door that closes the infirmary off from the rest of the Watchtower. I stop in front of the door, waiting for Clark to catch up, before I take a deep breath and turn to the Kryptonian. "How bad is he?" I ask. I want to prepare myself for whatever is on the other side of that door.
"He'll live," is all Clark says. "But it'll take time."
I nod as Clark places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before the door slides open. I take a step inside, stopping once J'onn sees me cautiously glance around. Without a word he points to the corner of the room, where the curtain is drawn around one of the beds. I give him a small nod, thanking him for both saving Bruce and giving him his privacy, before I walk to the end of the room. Taking a deep breath, I grab the curtain and pull it back, breathing out a sigh of relief when I see Bruce laying in the bed in front of me.
His body is covered in bruises, there is an IV feeding him pain medication, and he has an oxygen mask over his face, but he is alive, and that's all I can really hope for. Without a word, I pull the chair by the window up next to his bed and take a seat, letting my hand gently fall onto his arm, letting him know I am here.
His eyes flutter open but he doesn't move. He can't move. His body is in too much pain. He mumbles something and tries to turn his head, but the brace J'onn has placed there to keep him still won't allow it. He furrows his eyebrows and scrunches his nose in pain as he lifts his hand, and I quickly take it in mine, lacing our fingers together before I give it a gentle squeeze.
He moves his other hand and pulls the oxygen mask off his face. "Diana?" he questions. His eyes dance as he looks from side to side. Clark warned me of this. Bruce had hit his head. In fact, he had hit it so hard, he hadn't been able to see anything but shadows when Clark had come for him. I only hope it will not be a permanent thing.
"I'm right here," I say, gently lifting our joined hands and placing a kiss on the back of his.
"I can't see you," he says.
I nod. "I know. Clark told me."
"No," he says, pointing at his brace. "I can't see you because of this."
I only chuckle, shake my head, and stand. His eyes focus on my face and I smile knowing his vision is returning. "Can you see me now?" I ask, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, never once letting our hands fall apart. "Or am I still a blob of shadows?"
Bruce attempts to shrug. "Still a very beautiful blob," he whispers and I am unable to help the chuckle that escapes my lips.
I reach over and place the oxygen mask back onto his face, before I let my thumb brush the sweat soaked hair from his forehead. He pulls the mask off his face once more and asks, "Damian?"
I only give him a small nod, forcing the mask back on over his mouth and nose. "He's okay, Bruce," I say. "A small concussion, a broken arm, a few bruises." He lets out a sigh of relief, letting the mask fog up before he relaxes in the bed. "Which is a lot better than I can say for you. You had me so worried." I take a small breath, gathering my thoughts, and whisper, "I thought I lost you."
He only stares at me as I fight the tears that have been threatening my eyes since watching that casino's walls crumble before my very eyes. He gives my hand a squeeze, as hard as he can muster at the moment, and I give him another small smile. His actions say everything he can't. They convey the words he struggles to find himself.
He lets out a small sigh and closes his eyes, before he takes a deep breath. The medication that he has been stubbornly trying to fight off is finally kicking in and he is unable to hold off any longer. "You get some sleep," I say. "I'll be at the manor with Damian until you are able to come back."
Bruce gives as much of a nod as he can with the brace and whispers something incoherent. He clears his throat and opens his eyes, quickly scans the room, and settles on my face. "Thank you," he whispers. I only nod once. I lean down to kiss his cheek when he whispers one more thing. It causes my heart to skip a beat, and I forget where we are for a moment.
"I love you," he whispers once more and I can't help the smile that graces my face when I realize the man who has spent months trying to hide his feelings has just given the biggest confession he can to me. He is allowing himself to be vulnerable.
"I love you too," I whisper back, offering him a nervous chuckle as a few stray tears make their way from the corner of my eyes down my cheek. I realize these tears come from not a place of sadness, but rather a place of happiness. The man I have loved for much longer than I would care to admit, is alive. He is alive, his son is alive, and I can only thank the gods they have allowed me this chance of happiness.
"I'll be back in the morning," I say, kissing the back of his hand before placing it carefully at his side. I lean in and carefully press my lips against his, a smile on my face when I see the small grin on his. The man may be in pain, but my lips on his will always give him that goofy grin.
He gives me a slight nod and closes his eyes once more. It is only a few moments before his breathing slows and he succumbs to the sleep his body needs. I watch him sleep for a few moments, his breathing deep and slow, in perfect synchronization to the beeping from the monitor on his right. Once I am sure he is asleep I carefully leave the room and make my way to my quarters, eager to grab a few items before I head back to Gotham. I know the road ahead of Bruce is not going to be an easy one, but with me by his side, I know we'll be able to do it together.