For over three decades, Detective Shayera Hol had worked hard, making sure to put her best effort in everything she did. Her father had taught her to be a dedicated worker, putting forth 110 percent into everything she did. When her parents had been killed, Shayera had promised herself she would honor them in any way she could, deciding to stay in Gotham and help those who couldn't help themselves. She worked hard through school, finishing university a semester early. When she joined the Gotham Police Department, she knew her father would have been proud of her, but Shayera needed to go further and untarnish the reputation her father's partner had smeared for years.
Shayera had worked diligently, earning multiple promotions, and solving cases detectives who had been with the department for years hadn't been able to solve. She worked tirelessly, wanting to show Gordon and the rest of the department she wasn't just an orphan looking for sympathy. She was a damn good cop and her arrest reports were a testament to that.
But even the hard working Shayera Hol found herself needing a vacation every now and then. She knew solely focusing on her work would lead to a lonely life. After her last failed relationship, she had been content to let her cases consume her, drowning out any resemblance of a life outside of work, giving all her attention to the crime that plagued Gotham. But all that had changed when she had met John Stewart.
Five years her senior, John Stewart showed her life could be more than just work. Having made a career from the military, John knew what it was like to work hard from a young age, striving to be the best man he could. He focused on the task at hand, the mentality of work first, play later drilled into him from years of service. But with Shayera, he allowed himself to be open. He had fallen in love with her, wanting more than a weekend here and there between the two. The distance between Quantico, where he had been stationed for the last few months, and Gotham was enough to visit often, but it still pained him every time they had to say goodbye.
The two had taken a small vacation to Hawaii, having saved enough leave to have a few days together uninterrupted, only solidifying in both their minds that they needed to make this a permanent thing. The important question John had asked weighed heavily on Shayera's mind, and although he had returned to base not wanting to pressure her, she knew she needed to answer him soon. But first she needed to talk to Diana.
When their plane had landed in Gotham, Shayera had been surprised to find multiple calls from Diana, Bruce, and Commissioner Gordon. Diana and Bruce had been vague in their messages, as they knew they could discuss in more detail when they saw each other. Commissioner Gordon, however, had explained the situation, letting her know they had uncovered who her John Doe was, explaining he needed her for another case as soon as she reported back to work. Shayera and John had departed on the street in front of her apartment, Shayera promising to give John an answer to his question by the morning, before she watched him drive off, sad to know it would be another two weeks before she would get to kiss him again.
Shayera quickly made her way inside the building, wanting to find shelter indoors before the rain that had been threatening to fall for the last hour decided to make its appearance. Inside she was greeted by Roxanne, who sat behind the desk with a smile, waving to the detective before she glanced back down at the computer screen in front of her. Shayera quickly waved back to the woman, before she walked over to the elevator and pressed the button to go up, gripping the handle of her suitcase tightly as she waited. When the elevator arrived, she quickly walked in and pressed the button for the fourth floor, letting out a sigh when the doors closed, her eyes closing as she listened to the elevator lift her to her desired floor, before the doors slid open with a ding. She stepped out into the hall and pulled her suitcase out of the elevator behind her, before she continued on, stopping in front of her and Diana's apartment door.
Shayera slid the key into the lock and turned the key, opened the door, and walked in, a smile on her face when she saw her roommate pop her head into the hallway leading toward the living room, a grin on Diana's face as her eyes settled on Shayera. "You're home!" Diana exclaimed, coming into the room, her arms full of clothes. She watched as Shayera placed her suitcase near the couch and closed the door behind her. "How was your trip?"
Diana ran into her room and deposited the clothes in her arms onto her bed, trotting back into the living room to greet her roommate once more with empty arms. "It was great," Shayera replied, raising an eyebrow when she saw Diana grab both her suitcase and the purse on her shoulder. "Not long enough," she said with a sigh. "Gordon called me and told me everything that happened today. How are you doing?"
Diana shrugged. "I think I'm still in shock," Diana said. "But we'll discuss that later." She rushed into her room, pulling Shayera's suitcase into the room with her.
"Diana," Shayera called. She walked out of the living room and into Diana's bedroom, stopping when she saw Diana throw her suitcase onto her bed, unzip it, and empty the contents onto the top. "What are you doing?" she asked, more annoyed than actually curious.
"We've got a plane to catch," Diana answered over her shoulder as she grabbed a few items from atop her pillow and tossed them into the empty suitcase.
Shayera shook her head and rubbed a hand down her face, the fatigue starting to catch up to her. "I'm not going anywhere," she stated stubbornly. "I just got home, and I have work in the morning. Gordon has me on a new case. Some detail. Babysitting duty," she explained, watching as Diana ignored what she said and continued to pack the suitcase with clothes for the two of them.
"Yeah," Diana said, closing the suitcase. "The detail job. It's me." She watched as Shayera raised an eyebrow, confused. "Bruce wants me to take a few days after what happened, but I know the truth. Gordon wants to make sure I didn't know anything of what Sterling or Damian did."
Shayera watched as Diana twisted her lips and scrunched her nose, her eyebrows furrowing as she remembered Bruce leaving her apartment, letting her know she needed to take some time. "Gordon doesn't think you had anything to do with it," Shayera said, trying to ease Diana's mind.
Diana only waved her comment off, pulled her suitcase from her bed and placed it on the floor. She moved to grab a thin jacket from her closet, her mind moving a hundred miles a minute. The two of them needed to get going soon if they were going to do what was needed.
Shayera, on the other hand, took a seat on the edge of Diana's bed and let out a sigh. "Diana," Shayera said. She wanted Diana to slow down for a second so she could tell her what had happened in Hawaii.
Diana continued to move about her room, opening her drawers and pulling out documents, before she ran out of her bedroom and into Shayera's neighboring room, the redhead's purse in her arms. She ran back into the room a minute later with Shayera's passport in her hand, zipping the purse closed. "I think we're almost ready," she said, tucking the small book into her back pocket for safe keeping. "Just a few more-"
"John asked me to move in with him."
Diana stopped in her tracks, turning to look over at her roommate who only sighed once more. John lived in Virginia, a few hours from Gotham. Diana knew if Shayera had agreed, it would be the end of the two of them living together; the end of an era. "In Virginia?" Diana asked. She tried not to sound too surprised, wanting to sound happy for her best friend, but the thought of Shayera moving hours away terrified her.
Shayera let out a sigh. "Remember his buddy, Arthur?" she asked, knowing Diana would remember the man the two of them and John had had drinks with one random Friday night. Diana nodded. She hadn't remembered much of that night, her mind filled with thoughts of Bruce, the surprise on his face when she had told him she was pregnant etched into her memory, but she could recall little details here and there. He was in his early forties, and had been in the military with John, both starting basic training at the same time. The two had gone to college while enlisted, both getting a degree in architecture, however when John stayed in the military, Arthur had left, choosing to focus on a different career path.
"He's leaving his current firm and starting his own, and he wants John to come work with him. So he's retiring in a few months and moving to New York," she looked up at Diana, her green eyes meeting her roommate's blue, and continued, "and he wants me to move in with him."
Diana's eyes never left Shayera's as she walked across the room toward her bed and took a seat on the mattress beside her roommate. "What'd you say?" she asked quietly.
Shayera shrugged. "I told him I needed time to think," she answered truthfully. "Gotham is my home," she said. "It's where I grew up. It's where my parents are buried. It's where my best friend is." She nudged Diana's shoulder with her own, emphasising her words, flashing the brunette a smile. Diana reciprocated the smile. "But it's so hard being away from him constantly."
Diana's phone began to ring. She quickly jumped up from the bed and pulled the device from her back pocket, a smile on her face when she saw the number flashing across the screen. "Hello," she answered. She listened to the voice on the other end of the phone and nodded her head as she said, "Of course. I'm heading out as we speak." She quickly ended the call and placed the phone back into her back pocket, grabbed Shayera's hand and pulled her off her bed. "We gotta go," she explained.
Shayera let out one more sigh, trying to stifle a yawn that had snuck up, before she reached up and stretched. "If I'm working I need to grab a few items," she said, turning to walk toward her room.
"Already in your purse," Diana answered, pointing to the two bags that rested on the top of Diana's dresser.
Shayera tilted her head as she looked at both her and Diana's purses on the dresser, a chuckle escaping her lips as she realized how prepared her roommate was. She quickly reached over and grabbed her purse from the piece of furniture, unzipping the top and glancing inside to see both her badge and gun. She quickly plucked her passport from Diana's back pocket and tossed it into the purse, before she zipped it up and pulled it up and onto her shoulder. She watched as Diana grabbed the handle of the suitcase in one hand and snatched her purse off the dresser with the other, before she walked out of the room, leaving Shayera to flip off the lights and close the door.
The two walked out of the apartment, Shayera stopping only to lock the door behind them, and walked down the hall, into the elevator, and out of the building, where a dark car was parked waiting for them. An older gentleman stood by the rear door, a smile on his face when he saw Diana step outside, as he opened the door and popped open the trunk with the keys.
"Ah, good evening Ms. Prince," the older man said, reaching to grab the suitcase from Diana.
Diana shook her head. "No, no, Alfred," she said, not wanting him to worry himself with the over packed bag. "I've got it."
Alfred, knowing Diana wouldn't change her mind, let her place the suitcase in the trunk of the car, watching as she shut the trunk before he turned to Shayera. "Detective Hol," he greeted. "I am Alfred Pennyworth." He placed his hand out, a smile on his face when Shayera shook his hand with a small nod.
"Sorry we're late, Alfred," Diana apologized.
Alfred shook his head. "Nonsense, Ms. Diana," he replied, moving aside to let the two women into the back seat. "You're right on time."
Diana and Shayera got into the back seat, watching as Alfred shut the door behind them, before he walked around the car and got into the driver's seat. "Master Wayne would like me to inform you he worries of what your plan is," he said into the rearview mirror, his eyes settling on Diana as he turned the key and brought the car to life.
Shayera chuckled from her spot beside Diana. "I, too, worry what her plan is," Shayera said, earning another smile from Alfred.
"Well, Detective Hol," Alfred said, glancing at Shayera from the mirror once before he drove away from their building, "I suspect you will have to keep an extra close eye on Ms. Prince."
"You got it, Alfred," Shayera said with another chuckle, turning to watch as Diana leaned back, trying to hide her reddening face. She had heard of Alfred from Diana, and the way she spoke of him, she knew her roommate absolutely adored the man who had taken care of Bruce after his parents' deaths. And for good reason. The man had a heart of gold, was patient, and could make anyone feel at ease. Two wo minutes in the car with him, and Shayera almost felt no anxiety over what Diana was planning. Almost. He reminded Shayera of her father, so caring, so comforting. Ivan Hol was one of the most loving men. Stern, but loving.
Shayera turned to face Diana, who was staring out the window, lost in her thoughts, and her heart began to hurt. As much as she missed her father, saddened by the fact that he had been taken away from her much too soon, her heart hurt for her best friend. Diana had confided in her who her father was the minute she came back from Greece, and although the man who had fathered her was still alive, Diana had gone her whole life without her father. But as Shayera watched Alfred glance back at the two of them, a warm smile on his lips as he watched Diana check her phone, she knew her friend would be okay. Alfred had been Bruce's surrogate father, a mentor, a constant source of counsel. She knew he would be the same for Diana.
Alfred shifted his focus back onto the road ahead and continued to drive. The two women sat in the back in comfortable silence as they made their way to the airport. Shayera, who wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the next ten hours, leaned her head against the window, closed her eyes, and let out a small sigh, trying to ignore the bumps in the road, courtesy of Gotham's constant construction.
"You should do it," Diana whispered, and for a moment Shayera thought she had imagined it.
"What?" she asked, opening her eyes to glance out the window, watching as an elderly couple walked down the street hand in hand.
"Move to New York with John," Diana answered. "You should do it."
Shayera turned from the window toward Diana, watched as the brunette shifted in her seat, pulling her long dark hair into a messy ponytail, before she bit her lip, contemplating her decision. "I don't know, Diana," she said. "What about work? And you? And-"
Diana placed a hand on Shayera's shoulder, stopping the redhead from trying to convince herself this was a bad idea. She knew she and John loved each other, and the way they were when they were together, proved it. "You love him," Diana stated. "You deserve to be happy with someone who loves you for you," she said, "especially after Hro."
Shayera nodded, a smile on her face when she realized that had been the first time she had heard her ex-fiance's name without cringing. A foreign man with an accent as smooth as his deception, Hro Talak had befriended Shayera during a benefit she was working at. He had pursued her for months, courting her, wanting to know everything he could about the young woman, and although he may have used her and her position with Gotham PD to keep his position in the mob a secret, that didn't mean she hadn't truly loved him. His betrayal had hurt for months.
"As for me," Diana said with a shrug. "I'll be fine, Shay. Honestly. New York is only an hour and a half away. We'll still see each other."
Shayera nodded. "I suppose I can't get rid of you that easily."
Diana let out a laugh and shook her head, kicking her roommate in the shin. "You're going to miss me."
"Of course I will," Shayera said. "And do you realize we almost went a year without mentioning Hro?" Shayera tilted her head, daring Diana to comment on the man who had broken her heart nearly three years ago.
Diana only shrugged. "Hey, when you're the one to arrest your fiance and bring him to prison, it's going to get mentioned."
"Fair enough," Shayera said, conceding on the subject.
"But for the record, I told you so," Diana teased. She had never liked Hro, and she had warned Shayera that something wasn't right with the man.
They continued to drive toward the airport, discussing their relationships and Shayera's move. They discussed having her transfer to the New York Police Department and how Commissioner Gordon would be sad to lose Shayera, but would help her. By the time Shayera had texted John, letting him know that she would move in with him in a few months, they had arrived at the airport, where Bruce's private jet was there, waiting for the two.
"When you said plane, I thought you meant commercial," Shayera said, staring out the window at the plane as Alfred parked the car.
Diana chuckled as she pulled her purse up onto her shoulder. "Perks of dating a billionaire," she said sarcastically, before she waved at Shaun and Avery, their pilot and co-pilot. She opened the door and stepped out of the car, giving Alfred a quick hug goodbye, before Shayera came out and nodded to the man, grabbing the suitcase from the trunk as they made their way to the plane.
"So what exactly are you going to do?" Shayera asked as they climbed up the stairs, watching one of the men who would be flying their plane give Diana a hug; they had met when he had flown Bruce and her to Metropolis and back home from Greece.
Diana shrugged, introduced the pilots to Shayera, who nodded and greeted her with a smile, before closing the door and heading into the cockpit, ready to take off. "Something stupid," was all Diana said as she walked down the aisle, finding a seat, readying herself for takeoff.
August 22. 09:15. Athens.
Damian Kyrios sat at his desk, his hand stroking his goatee as he became more and more frustrated with his legal department. His dark eyes continued to stare at the man seated across from him, watching as the balding man tried his hardest not to shake, terrified for overseeing the little details that would screw Damian out of the biggest contract of the decade.
"There's nothing more we can do," Eli said, his voice cracking when he watched Damian's jaw tense. "Bruce Wayne was smarter than we anticipated. Maybe we should just cut our losses and try to recover what we have."
Damian continued to stroke his goatee, his brow furrowing. "I do not need you telling me what to do with my company," he bellowed, his attention focusing on the file on his desk for a split second, before he turned to watch Eli. All his life he had listened to his brothers run his life, deciding what they would do, giving him the scraps of what they never wanted. Despite being the oldest, his brothers Zachary and Phillip never trusted him with the main dealings of the family business, figuring he would ruin things one way or another. When he had started his own company and split from his brothers, they had shunned him, hoping he'd fail and grovel back to them. He would rather die than do such a thing.
"I suggest you find another way around this," Damian began, "or you will find yourself in search of new employment."
Eli let out a small sigh. He knew it was pointless to try and point out the fault of Damian's argument. But there was no way Damian was going to win against Bruce Wayne, which meant as of now, Eli was out of a job. "Yes sir," Eli said, before he stood and walked out of Damian's office, his chest now heavy with the thought of telling his wife he had lost his job.
Damian turned to the computer that sat to his right, his hand stroking his goatee once more before he began to type on the keyboard, letting his fingers enter the password that hid more than company files. He let out a sigh as his eyes read over the reports from Gotham, his brow furrowing as a headache began to form at his temples. Sterling had failed him, just as he had thought he would. His relationship with Sterling's mother had been a mistake from the start, and when he had found out she was pregnant, he knew nothing good could come from it. He couldn't afford the distraction nor did he want it. However, Sterling was persistent, and after some time Damian had grown tired of trying to ignore him.
Damian continued to read the report, his eyes narrowing more with each sentence he read. Sterling had gotten himself killed. It was only a matter of time before his mother found her way here, blaming him for the death of her son. He would have to tighten security.
The door to Damian's office opened, causing his eyes to glance up and away from his screen, his nose scrunching at the intrusion. "I'm sorry, Sir," Meredith, Damian's secretary said quickly, rushing up behind the two visitors standing in the doorway. "They wouldn't take no for an answer."
Damian raised his hand, silencing the woman, and gave her a small nod. "This is fine, Meredith," he said calmly, letting his words switch from Greek to English as he stared at his guests. "They can stay." Damian watched as the older woman nodded her head cautiously, before she backed away from Damian's visitors and retreated from the room all together. "It was only a matter of time," Damian whispered once his secretary was out of the office, his eyes focused on Diana as she took another step into the room.
"I'm not here for you," Diana answered coldly. "I'm here for your son."
"That boy is not my son," Damian answered, a chuckle threatening to fall from his lips. He glanced up and noticed the woman standing beside Diana, her red hair pulled into a loose ponytail atop of her head, her green eyes focused on the man behind the desk. "Either way, I have nothing to say to the police," Damian said with a shrug..
Diana only shook her head, walked up to the desk, glaring at Damian when he made no attempt to move. "She stays with me," she said, slamming her hand onto the desk, "and we both know everything you've done."
Damian folded his hands on the top of his desk and leaned back in his chair, obviously not phased by what Diana had just stated. "And what would that be? Tell me, Diana. What do you and the police think I have done?"
Diana continued to glare at her father, her pulse rising as she became more and more angry. How could this man not care that his own flesh and blood had nearly died. How could he act unbothered by the fact that Sterling had nearly died protecting Damian. Why did the thought of his son trying to kill her, his daughter, not unsettle him in the slightest. Seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, made Diana once again grateful that her mother had never told her of her paternity before now.
"Sterling told us everything," Dian said, her hands clenching into fists. "He told us why he came to work at Wayne Enterprises. He told us all about your plan to kill Bruce, how you wanted the company for yourself. He told us everything, showed us all the emails. You had a hand in everything."
Damian couldn't contain his chuckle, letting it spill past his lips with a smirk. "Diana, if any of that were true, you and I would be having this conversation in a jail cell. But since you're here, presumably without either of your employers knowing where the two of you are, you have nothing on me." He looked past Diana to Shayera, who stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed at the man they all knew to be guilty. "Isn't that right, Detective Hol?"
The two continued to stare at each other. Shayera didn't want to admit what Damian had said was the truth, but she also knew Diana was walking a thin line. "You have nothing connecting me to anything, because I knew nothing of that boy's intentions," Damian said, returning his focus to Diana. "Either way, that boy is dead and will no longer cause any trouble."
Diana let out a sigh, tensing her shoulders at her father's words. She glanced over her shoulder at Shayera, giving her friend a small nod, before she turned back to Damian, hunching over his desk, her face inches from his. "He's alive," she stated. She watched for Damian to give her any reaction, but when he sat stone faced, she knew she would receive none. Too many years preying on the lives of innocent people had made him unreactive.
"Don't play me for a fool," Damian said, his eyes narrowing as they focused on his daughter. He had seen the news reports, read all the papers. Sterling had died because of his stupidity. "That boy tested fate and lost."
Diana shook her head, a smirk on her face when she realized Damian didn't know everything he claimed. "Then you are a fool," Diana whispered as she pulled her phone from her pocket, unlocked the screen, and flashed it to the man behind the desk. She played the video for Damian, showing Sterling as he moved in pain in a hospital bed, his left arm bandaged and in a cast. "He's alive, and he's finally realized what a monster you are."
"You were never much for lying," Damian said with a smirk of his own. "Just like your mother."
Diana said nothing as she pressed another button on the screen of her phone, the video of Sterling continuing as audio from where he laid filled the office. "Sterling," Diana called, glancing down at the phone to see the younger man respond to his name. A groan fell from his lips as he turned. His eyes were narrowed in frustration, in pain, and Diana knew he was hurting both physically and emotionally. He had been abandoned by the one person he had idolized.
"Leave me alone, Diana," Sterling said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "And tell that man I don't want to see him." Sterling turned his head away from the screen, turning to glance at the machines that had kept him alive for the past forty eight hours, choosing to watch them rather than the man that had used him for his own selfish reasonings.
Diana ended the video, shoving the phone back into her pocket, before looking up at Damian. His eyebrows were knitted together, his lips twisted, his nose scrunched, and for a split second Diana thought she could see fear on his face. Sterling was alive. The one person who could prove he had any hand in anything that had happened the last few months was still alive, and according to the woman standing smugly in front of him, was willing to do just that.
"Where is he?" Damian asked.
Diana shook her head. "He's safe, away from you. And once he speaks to a few of our friends, everyone else will be as well." Diana continued to watch Damian. She watched as the gears began to turn in his head, his mind thinking of any possible way to get the information from Diana that he so desperately needed. He had not come this far only to fail now.
"I'm your father," Damian said, standing from his seat, slamming his hand on the desk. "Do not treat me with disrespect."
Diana continued to stare at the man, her gaze never faltering, watching calmly as Damian's hand clenched into a fist. She heard Shayera shuffle behind her, no doubt willing to jump in front of the two of them should Damian lose his composure once more. "I have no father," Diana stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyebrows narrowed at the man standing before her, watching as his chest began to puff with anger. "I want nothing to do with you," she said, pointing her finger at him. "Stay away from my mother, stay away from Bruce, and stay away from Gotham."
"Diana," Shayera warned. She knew how Diana could get worked up when defending someone she cared about. She didn't want her to get herself in more trouble - that's why Gordon had insisted she come to Greece with her.
Diana turned to look at her best friend and let out a sigh. "We're done here," was all she said, before she walked out of Damian's office, Shayera right behind her, neither looking back to see Damian's eyes shift from the two women to his computer.
The two walked in silence past Meredith, who hid behind her desk, knowing Damian was going to be angry at her for allowing the two women to walk right into his office. She only hoped she had gained enough favor with Damian to escape his wrath.
"Well," Shayera said, releasing the breath she had been holding since stepping into Damian's office, "that was a bit more than I expected."
Diana turned to face her friend, her furrowed face relaxing when the elevator they stood in front of opened. "Sorry," she said with a smirk as the two stepped in. Diana waited for the doors to close, shutting them off from both Meredith, Damian, and any other bystanders who might've heard the shouting match. "I may have gone off script a bit."
Shayera scoffed. "Ya think?" She pulled her hair loose, letting her fingers run through her red hair, before she pulled it up into a loose bun. "You think it worked?"
"Believe me, it worked," Diana said with a smirk.
Shayera only nodded. "So what now?"
Diana shrugged. "Now we get back to Gotham General and make sure my brother stays alive long enough to rat out our father." She tilted her head, stretching the muscle that had grown sore over the last few days, her eyes flicking up to the camera in the corner of the elevator, before she dropped her shoulders. The elevator dinged and opened to the lobby. "Believe me, it worked," Diana repeated as she stepped out of the elevator and into the sunlight covered lobby, quickly making her way out of the building.
August 27. 09:13. Gotham - General Hospital.
Shayera took a sip of her coffee, her third that morning, and glanced down at her watch, letting a small sigh escape her lips when she realized she had been sitting in the same chair for nearly six straight hours. Her eyes glanced up to the monitor on the end of the table, watching as their prisoner continued to lay in bed, his wrist shackled to the bed frame as he slept. She let out a groan as she leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm. When she had come back from vacation with John, she had expected to jump right back into work, but this was ridiculous. First she was in charge of watching over Diana, and now she had been the person who had to babysit Sterling. If this kept up, she was going to start charging hourly for her babysitting duties.
The door to the small room opened and Commissioner Gordon walked in, a smile on his face, holding an envelope in his hand. "Anything yet?" he asked as he pulled the only other chair in the room from near the wall and up to the table.
Shayera shook her head. "Same as last night, and the night before." She quickly chugged the remainder of her coffee, wanting to at least enjoy it before it got too cold, before she stood and tossed the cup in the trash across the room. "This is punishment for saying I wanted a transfer, isn't it?" Shayera asked with a smirk.
"I have no idea what you mean," Gordon replied, a smirk of his own plastered on his face. He knew when Shayera came into his office late after returning from Greece, she wanted to talk about something important. He thought she wanted a promotion, wanted to move up in the department. Never did he think it was to ask for a transfer. However, he had always known she was going to move on to bigger and better things. She was too good of a cop to keep in Gotham.
"But speaking of your transfer," he began, placing the envelope on the table, "here are your forms."
Shayera quickly grabbed the envelope, her exhaustion disappearing as soon as she opened the envelope and pulled a few of her papers out. This was all coming together amazingly, and with her paperwork in, it was only going to be a few short weeks until she moved in with John. It was bittersweet. "Your father would be proud of you," Gordon said, placing a hand on Shayera's shoulder.
"Thank you," she replied, shoving the papers back into the envelope.
Gordon only nodded, before he turned back to the monitor. The door opened once more and both he and Shayera turned to watch Henry Whitaker, Paul's brother with the FBI, rush into the room. "A buddy of mine in CBP just sent these over," he said as he pulled a few photos from his pocket. "Passport identified him as a Mr. Jason Zika."
Shayera grabbed the photos from Henry and looked at what evidence they had. "That's him," Shayera said. "That's Damian Kyrios."
Henry nodded and ran a hand through his dark disheveled hair. "Bastard used his own son's name to get into the country. He doesn't want anyone to know he's here, which means he's only here for one thing."
Gordon nodded and stood from his seat. "Whitaker, make sure your men don't act until we get the evidence we need."
"You got it boss," Henry said with a salute, before he rushed out of the room, cell phone
already in hand.
"Hol," Gordon said, turning to the only other person in the room, watching as Shayera stood up straight, ready for action. "I want to know the second he steps into this hospital. And call Jefferson and have him and Andrews relieve you. I want you in the next room."
"Of course, Sir," Shayera answered, pulling her phone from her pocket and calling the plain clothed officers who were waiting out in the parking garage.
August 27. 12:19.
Damian rushed through the doors of Gotham General Hospital, a scowl on his face. It had taken him nearly three hours to get into Gotham, and although he had evaded officers at customs, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone knew he was in town. He only hoped he had enough time to do what he had come for.
"Good afternoon," the lady at the front door greeted. "Sure is coming down out there," she said, offering Damian a few paper towels to dry his face from the rain that had soaked through one of his favorite pairs of shoes.
"Thank you," Damian said, his face switching from a scowl to a charming smile. He knew he was going to have to ignore the fact that he had to fly commercial and charm the young woman in front of him if he wanted answers. When Diana had left Greece, he had spent the rest of the night looking for any and all clues as to where they were keeping Sterling. That little pest was still alive, and with him alive, his whole kingdom could come crashing down. There was no way he would allow that.
He replayed that video Diana had shown him in his head, trying to remember every detail from the forty second interaction. When that had proven to be of no use, he reviewed every second of security footage he had of Diana, obsessing over every word Diana uttered, looking for a hidden message. It wasn't until days later had Damian realized the answer had been in front of him all along. Diana had slipped up in the elevator. She had given him exactly what he needed. He was on the first flight out of Athens that night.
"Can I help you with anything?" the younger woman asked, bringing Damian out of his thoughts.
"Actually, yes," Damian said, flashing another smile for good measure. "My nephew was admitted a few days ago and I have desperately been trying to visit him. His mother forgot to tell me what room he is in, could you help me out?"
The woman's smile faltered. "I'm afraid I can't give out patient's information," she said with a frown. "Maybe you can try his mother again?"
Damian shook his head. "I'm sure you could do this, just this once," he said. He leaned against the desk and flashed her another smile, placing a stack of money in front of him. "Please, I need to see my nephew."
The woman turned to look at the stack of money, her eyes widening when she realized what this was. Commissioner Gordon had warned her this might happen, and he had given her extensive instructions when it did. "I suppose I can help out a desperate uncle," she said with a smile, sliding the pile of cash under the desk, placing it beside the keyboard her hands rested on. "What's your nephew's name?" she asked, shifting in her seat.
"Sterling Kakos," Damian answered, his smile never faltering. He needed to play nice long enough to get to Sterling's room, where he could finish the job that should've been taken care of years ago.
The woman began to type on her keyboard, her eyes narrowing as she read the screen in front of her. "Looks like he's in room 407," she said. "Anything else I can help with?"
Damian shook his head. "No, no," he answered. "That's more than enough. Thank you." Without another word, Damian turned on his heel and headed straight toward the elevators at the end of the room, ignoring the woman as she opened the desk drawer and pulled out an evidence bag, put the pile of money inside and grabbed the phone off the receiver.
Damian quickly called for an elevator, impatiently fiddling with something in his pant's pocket as he stared straight ahead, ignoring everyone else around him. The ding signalling the arrival of an elevator forced Damian to look up. The doors to the middle elevator opened and a family of five spilled out, leaving a janitor holding a few rolls of paper towels in the corner. He quickly stepped inside and punched the button for the fourth floor, finding himself in the middle of the elevator as it's doors closed with another ding.
"Hey pal," the janitor said. "You're dripping everywhere." He pointed to the floor where the excess water from Damian's clothes had begun to puddle, creating another slipping hazard the janitor was none too thrilled about.
"Looks like you have a mess to clean up then," Damian said as the elevator dinged, stopping at the fourth floor before the doors slid open. He glanced at the janitor from over his shoulder, flashing a smug smile at the older man, before he stepped out into the hallway, ignoring the janitor as he began to curse under his breath. He listened for the elevator to slide close before he continued his journey, turning down the first hall to look at the row of doors that lined the wall.
Damian walked down the hall, reading the plaques beside each door, his nerves growing with each room he passed. 403. 404. 405. 406. He stopped in front of room 407 and shoved his hand back into his pocket, fiddling with the object once more. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one saw him grab the door handle. Once he was certain no one was paying attention, he opened the door and slid inside, shutting the door quietly behind his back, closing both he and the man in the bed across the room off to the sounds of the hall.
The monitor keeping track of Sterling's vitals beeped every few seconds, letting Damian know the man was in fact alive, and stable; if Damian had any luck, he wouldn't be in a minute. He carefully took a step toward the bed, his eyes roaming over the IV that was connected to the injured man's arm, and pulled the capped syringe filled with enough potassium chloride to stop the heart of a large bear from his pocket.
Damian, sure that Sterling was still fast asleep, continued toward the bed, pulling the cap from the syringe as he kept his eyes focused on the man laying in the bed. This was all he needed to make sure his problem went away. By the time anyone realized what had happened, he would be back in Greece, feigning ignorance of this just as he had done with everything that had transpired until now.
When he reached Sterling's bed, he glanced down at the man's arm, looking down at the tattoo Sterling had gotten in an attempt to force his way into the family. Damian had loathed that tattoo for years. He quickly grabbed the line attached to his IV and stabbed the needle into the line, emptying the contents of the syringe. "Your failures end here," he whispered in Greek, his eyes narrowing as he pulled the syringe from the line and threw it in the trash beside the bed. For years Sterling had been a thorn in Damian's side, always trying to compare himself to Diana, when in his eyes, there was no comparison. Diana was smart. Diana was talented, and hard working. Sterling rode on the coattails of others and always complained when things didn't go his way.
Without another thought Damian turned on his heel and headed toward the door, his lips turning into a smirk when he heard the beeping of the machine monitoring Sterling's heart rate change its rhythm. He grabbed the door knob, pausing once to listen to his son's heart rate increase, a sure sign the drugs he had administered were working, and his smirk grew. He had outsmarted everyone yet again. All those years following the orders of his brothers, all those years being belittled by his own father - soon they wouldn't matter anymore.
He opened the door, his smirk faltering when he saw the last person he wanted to run into standing in his way. Her hair, lightened from weeks out in the sun, was up and out of her eyes; the same eyes that now bore into him, narrowing as they glanced over his shoulder at the hospital bed. Her lips curled into a small smirk and her hands, which had been cradling her gun beside her waist, rose. "Don't move," she commanded, aiming the pistol at Damian's chest.
"Detective Hol," Damian snarled. He jerked his hand toward his waistband, ready to pull his own weapon, when he felt the cold hard metal of a gun against his back.
"The lady said 'Don't move'," came an unexpected voice.
Damian froze. How had this happened? When he got over his temporary shock he glanced over his shoulder and noticed the bed that had been occupied seconds before, now empty, the line that held the deadly drug he had tried to administer, leaking on the floor. It had never been connected to Sterling. And as Damian turned to look at the man that was pulling a pair of cuffs from his belt he realized, Sterling had never even been in this room. He had been conned.
"Where is my son?" Damian demanded, his voice raising as the lights in the room flickered on.
Shayera shrugged, tightening her grip on the gun that was still pointed at Damian's chest. "We told you. He's safe, away from you." Shayera watched as Damian snarled and raised his hands in defeat. She watched as Henry grabbed Damian's right arm, pulling it back and placing a cuff on his wrist, before he reached for his other and yanked it behind him. When she was certain Damian was handcuffed, and was no longer a threat to either her, Henry, or anyone else in the hospital, she reholstered her gun. "Damian Kyrios," she began, "you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Sterling Kakos, conspiracy to commit murder, and I'm sure more to follow."
Henry pulled the hospital gown from his body and let it drop to the floor, letting his tie fix itself as he rubbed the ink off his arm, grateful that the tattoo in Sterling's arm was the only thing Damian had been focused on. He grabbed Damian by the arm and led him out of the room, listening as Shayera continued to recite his Miranda rights.
When they stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, the three saw Gordon and a few other officers talking to hospital staff. There was a uniformed officer talking to a doctor, scribbling notes on a small pad, and a nurse in bright pink scrubs talking with a woman dressed in a jacket with a large printed FBI across the back; it was the same woman who had taken his cash this morning. However, none of that mattered when Damian saw the pair standing by the door, their eyes following Damian's every step as they stopped their conversation with another doctor.
Bruce's eyes narrowed and his hands curled into fists, inciting a small chuckle from Damian's lips. The man still thought he had power over him. But Bruce wasn't who he was concerned with. It was the woman standing beside him, her hand on his chest, silently calming him in the middle of all the chaos. Her eyes displayed a mix of emotion. Anger for her father's actions. Sadness for her brother's fate. Happiness this was all behind her. But it was the smug smile on her face that convinced Damian she was more like him than he had given credit.
"I want a word with them," Damian said, speaking for the first time since the handcuffs were placed around his wrists.
Shayera glanced over at Henry, who only shrugged, before she led him to where Bruce and Diana stood. "You have one minute," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing at the clock on the wall above the door.
Damian only rolled his eyes before he turned to Bruce, however Bruce didn't give him a chance to speak. "Seems like you and your lawyers should have read the contract more thoroughly," he said between clenched teeth. "In the event of criminal activity, the deal is null and void, meaning I get all my files back."
Damian chuckled. "You forget, Mr. Wayne. That means I get all my property back as well."
Bruce nodded. "But seeing as how your company is now owned by your brothers, they were all too happy to give me the files I requested."
Damian's face fell. It was his one oversight this whole time. Zachary and Philip had each bought a large stock in Damian's company when he had fallen on hard times two years after he had left, knowing that if he needed to get out of the hole he had dug himself into, Damian would need to come crawling back to them. He had never needed to do so, but now that Damian was potentially going to spend years in prison, his brothers would run the company. "You piece of-"
Bruce stepped up to Damian, letting Diana's hand slide off his chest, silencing the man. "You were warned," he whispered before he took a step back and glanced to his right, where Diana stood staring at Damian.
"And you," Damian said, turning to his daughter. His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered as he decided to give his last message in Greek, knowing Diana would be the only one to understand. "You think he'll be able to stop me?" he asked, pointing his chin toward Bruce. "It'll be a shame if your mother finds herself getting a visit from an associate."
Diana took a deep breath and stepped toward Damian, getting inches from his face. Her smirk never faltered as she looked the man in the eye. He had no power over her. "If you ever threaten me, my mother, or any one else I love, I will kill you." Diana watched as Damian continued to snarl, Diana's admission only making him angrier, before she looked at her roommate and nodded, letting the detective know they were done with him.
Shayera looked at Henry and gave him a small nod. "Have one of my officers bring him to the station and do not let anyone talk to him until I get there."
Henry nodded and pulled Damian by the arm, walking him to the front door where dozens of cameramen and news journalists waited. As soon as the two stepped outside the flashes of cameras began to go off, as multiple people began to question both Damian and the FBI agent about what had happened. Henry only flashed a smirk as he continued to lead Damian to the car, letting the media get their photos, knowing bad press was enough to ruin the man who had ruined so many others.
Shayera watched as Henry drove off with Damian in his back seat and two of Gotham's patrol cars followed, before she turned to face Diana. "How's Sterling?" Diana asked. She had tried to visit her brother since coming back from Greece, but Gordon and the FBI had moved him to another room, knowing Damian would come to try and tie up the one loose end left, and hadn't taken the chance that Diana wouldn't spill where he was if Damian got to her first.
"He's doing good," Shayera said. "He's been asking about you." Shayera watched as Diana raised an eyebrow. The last time she had spoken to him, he hadn't wanted anything to do with her or Damian. "You should talk to him. I think he just wants to apologize before he's sent to prison for a very long time."
Diana nodded. "I will," she replied. She watched as Shayera nodded in response, before she explained she needed to get to the station before anyone got to Damian, speeding out of the hospital, trying to avoid all the news crews. Diana only chuckled and shook her head. "Did you have to tip off every news station in a twenty mile radius?" she asked Bruce, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together.
Bruce only shrugged. His heart was still beating heavily from his interaction with Damian, but being there with Diana, knowing this whole thing was over, gave him a sense of reassuring calm that he had been missing for months. "Maybe now people will think twice about messing with you," he said with a small smile, lifting their hands to kiss the back of hers.
Diana only giggled. "Maybe," she said with a shrug.
Bruce nodded. "So, now that people aren't trying to kill either of us, what's next?"
Diana said nothing as she turned to face him, leaning toward him until their lips met in a sweet kiss. She didn't care that they were in the middle of a hospital lobby. She didn't care that dozens of cameras were outside trying to sneak a picture of what could be the second biggest story that week. She didn't care that Commissioner Gordon was across the way giving Bruce a small smirk before he shook his head and walked out of the building, trying to shoo away the media in an attempt to get to his car unscathed. Diana didn't care about anything in that moment except Bruce, and now that this drama was finally over, she couldn't have been more thrilled.