Chapter 25
Hawaii; August 18th, 22:53 EST
Wally walked hand in hand with Linda along the beach in Hawaii, the waves gently lapping at the beach and creating a calming sound. He'd worked it out for the Watchtower to transport them to the island, enjoying a romantic dinner for two before heading to the beach. It was beautiful beyond imagination, making him that much more satisfied that he'd finally chosen to take her to Hawaii.
He had wanted to take her to Fiji, but he felt it would look like he was trying too hard. He ultimately decided to keep it simple, remembering that Linda had once said something about wanting to go to Hawaii after receiving a postcard from a friend visiting the islands. He knew he had chosen well when they appeared in Hawaii, and she had rewarded him with a passionate kiss.
He heard her sigh contentedly as she leaned into him, her head coming to rest momentarily on his shoulder. "This is amazing," she told him. "This is the most romantic date that I've ever been on."
"I'm glad you like it," he replied as his hand nervously played with the ring box in his pants pocket.
They were getting closer to the spot that he'd picked out, writing in the sand his proposal. He just hoped this went off without a hitch. He spotted the picnic basket that he'd placed there before they'd eaten dinner. It held a bottle of wine and chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert.
Approaching the spot, Wally instantly panicked when he noticed that the waves had washed away his proposal. "Crap," he murmured under his breath, his mind racing with ways to fix it.
"Wally, what's wrong?" Linda asked, concern filling her eyes as she studied him.
"What?" he said, his head whipping to the side to look at her. "Oh…um, I need you to stand right here for just a few seconds."
"Why?" she questioned him, confused.
"Just trust me," he pleaded with her. "I promise it'll be worth it."
"Alright," she agreed.
"I'll be…right back," he replied, leaving and returning in a matter of a couple of seconds. "Okay, now we can keep walking."
Linda chuckled softly as she took his hand once more. "Wally West," she said. "I don't know what you're up to, but you're acting awfully strange tonight."
"I'm just happy to be here with you," he told her. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."
"Oh, Wally," she murmured, stopping to kiss him.
They kissed for several moments, enjoying the warmth of Hawaii and the beach they were on. He reluctantly retreated, knowing this was the moment he'd been planning for weeks for. "I have something I want to ask you."
"What is it?" she asked, her heart soaring with the prospect of what he was about to ask her.
He took her hand and led her to the message he had written in the sand. Linda gasped as she read his proposal in the sand. "Yes…yes, I'll marry you," she responded, turning to find him down on one knee holding open a ring box.
Wally couldn't erase the huge grin on his face as he stood to his feet, placing the ring on her finger. She threw her arms around his neck as tears streamed down her face. "I love you so much," he told her. "I can't wait for you to be my wife."
"I love you too," she replied, her tears falling on his shoulder. "This is the best proposal in the world."
Wally released a relieved sigh. "I'm so happy that you think so," he revealed. "I've been planning this for so long. I wanted to make sure it was absolutely perfect."
"It is perfect…and so are you," she confirmed, her lips finding his in a knee-bending kiss.
"I have more," he told her, taking her hand and leading her behind a palm tree where he had spread out a blanket.
He made his way to the picnic basket that he'd placed behind the tree before sitting down on the blanket with his new fiancée. Opening the basket, he pulled out the bottle of wine, glasses, and plate of chocolate-covered strawberries.
"Wally," she murmured his name. "This is so sweet."
"I thought you might like it," he replied, pouring her a glass of wine and handing it to her.
"There is nothing that I would change about tonight," she told him. "The sunset and beach, the wine and strawberries…the ring…it's all so wonderful."
"I'm just glad that you said yes," he confessed.
Linda gave him a curious look. "You thought that I might say no?"
"I was hoping that you'd say yes, but I didn't want to assume."
Her hand came to rest against his cheek, a tender expression on her face. "You're the one that I love, Wallace West," she reassured him. "There's no one else that I'd rather spend my life with or create a family with."
"The only thing standing in our way now is Legionnaire," he told her. "If we can just stop it, we'll be all set to get married and begin our life together."
"When can I report on Legionnaire?" she asked, her eyes pleading with him.
"Technically, you're not supposed to know about it so not yet," he replied with a frown.
"I think the public has the right to know that they're in danger of being destroyed," she pointed out.
Wally slowly shook his head as he thought about it. "A part of me agrees with you, but if the public found out, we'd have mass hysteria on our hands. There'd be so much chaos breaking out. There will be looting and pillaging. It'd be a free for all if they knew the world could be coming to an end."
"I know," she reluctantly admitted. "It's just that it's my job as a reporter to make the public aware of what's happening. Withholding information like this just feels so wrong."
"I know, but the Justice League is hoping to avert a disaster before anything happens," he revealed. "We're working with the government and we're working on building a weapon to stop Legionnaire. We're hoping to intercept it before it can reach us."
"I hope you're able to because I want to marry you," she replied.
"Me too," he murmured as he leaned in for a reassuring kiss, knowing as soon as his date was over, he needed to return to the Watchtower. There was so much to do and so little time to do it all in.
England; August 18th, 23:06 EST
Alfred entered the kitchen in the bunker, finding it empty. He wasn't surprised, though. It was only five o'clock in the morning. Still, they were going to bury their friends and teammates today. It was going to be a difficult day for all of them, but more so for Charlie and Katrine's families.
Katrine's parents were long deceased. She'd had a brother, but he passed away a couple of years ago from a massive heart attack. He was certain her brother's wife and children would be there today to pay their respects, but it was going to be painful for everyone, nonetheless.
He went to the cupboard, pulling out the tea. He went to the stove to retrieve the kettle, filling it with water before placing it back on the stove. He sat down in one of the chairs at the table, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Bruce.
"Alfred," Bruce answered. "Are you alright?"
"For the most part," he confessed, feeling somewhat comforted by the sound of his surrogate son's voice. "The funerals are today. I wanted to let you know that I'll likely be home tomorrow."
"I'm so sorry," he softly said. "We can be there in a heartbeat. Just say the word."
"I don't want to take you away from the family any more than I already have."
"Alfred, you are family," he pointedly stated.
Alfred smiled to himself as the kettle began a low whistle that slowly began to build in intensity. "I appreciate that," he replied as he took the kettle off the burner. "The little ones will be starting school in a couple of days, and you have Cassandra to get settled in."
"It can all wait for a few hours," he insisted. "Besides, Kaia doesn't want to go to preschool."
"Why not?"
"She doesn't want to leave you at home all alone without her," he relayed. "It seems that she believes you won't be able to get along without her because she helps you while Nicholas is at school."
Alfred chuckled with the revelation. "She is a very good helper," he agreed. "She insists on helping me do the cleaning before we pick up Master Nicholas at school."
"What time are the funerals?"
"Eleven at Highgate Cemetery," he informed him.
"Diana and I will be there," he firmly said.
"You are too kind," he replied. "How is Miss Cassandra getting along?"
"She's been through a lot," he revealed. "It's going to take some time, but I think we can help her start a new life in Gotham if she wants to stay."
"And I'm sure the League of Assassins will have a say in that."
"I'm afraid so," Bruce agreed.
"I'll see you in a few hours," he told him.
"We'll see you there."
Alfred ended the call, making his tea before taking his seat once more. Malcolm walked in at that moment, raking his fingers back through his thick red hair. "I thought you might be up," he said as he went to the kettle to pour himself a cup of tea.
"It's hard to sleep when you have to bury your friends today," he confessed.
"Aye," he said with a nod. "It's been an awfully rough week."
"I couldn't agree more."
Malcolm took his cup of tea to join Alfred at the table. "How are you holding up?"
"I've been better," he admitted, staring into his teacup.
"I'm not going to even bother telling you that it's going to be alright or that Katrine's death couldn't have been prevented," he said. "I'm sure everyone else has told you that."
The corner of Alfred's lips ticked up in mild amusement. "I appreciate that."
"She loved you, Alfred," Malcolm reminded him. "There is great comfort in knowing that."
Alfred sighed heavily, feeling the weight of fatigue and grief that was threatening to crush him. "I think it would've been easier if she had hated me for leaving her and London for the States."
"She accepted that you two needed to go your separate ways and begin a new life apart," he pointed out. "I know it wasn't easy for either of you, but it proved to be the best for both of you."
"We could've had a second chance when this was all over," he replied. "I asked her to visit me in Gotham after we'd captured Callum."
"I'm sorry, mate," he told him.
"Please tell me someone restocked the liquor we all drank the other night," Peter mumbled as he shuffled into the kitchen.
"It's tea, Peter," Mal informed him.
He scowled with a French curse on his lips as he dropped into a chair beside Alfred. "Do you think we can bribe Emmeline into making a liquor run?"
"What do you think?" Mal asked.
"I'm sure if you have enough Jaffa cakes you might be able to persuade her," Alfred told him. "But even then, I'm sure the chances are still quite slim."
"Do you think you should be drinking at five in the morning the day we bury our teammates and friends?" Malcolm questioned him.
Peter looked at him with an incredulous expression on his face. "Can you think of a better reason to drink?"
"Good point," Mal replied.
"Did someone say something about needing a drink?" Griffin said as he walked in with a bag in hand.
"You always were my favorite, mon ami," Peter decided as he sat forward in his seat.
Griffin set the bag down in the middle of the table. "I thought we could all use a good shot of courage before we face the day," he revealed as he took some glasses from the cupboard. "Besides, we need to drink a toast to our fallen comrades like we did when Callum took Nolan from us."
Peter pulled the bottle of whiskey from the bag, frowning at the label. "You couldn't have picked a better whiskey?"
"Do you know how hard it is to find whiskey of any kind at five in the morning?" he asked him.
"Good point," Peter replied.
Alfred laughed as Peter poured each of them a glass of whiskey. "This reminds me of the time that we got bloody blasted over that one mission when we caught the number three most wanted serial rapist and killer in the country at the time. Katrine was cheesed off at us."
They all laughed with the memory. "Laurel was none too chuffed with us either if memory serves me right," Griffin added.
"We were all pretty pissed," Peter reminded them. "I don't remember Laurel being around that night."
"We'd gone through two bottles of whiskey, a bottle of gin, and a half bottle of wine," Alfred pointed out. "Who wouldn't have been three sheets to the wind after all of that?"
"That was a great time," Malcolm said, "that was until morning came."
"The hangover was horrific," Alfred agreed with a groan. "I could barely see straight, and my head was hammering away."
"To make matters worse, Katrine made us take shooting practice that next morning," Griff replied. "My head didn't stop ringing for days after that."
All four men laughed with the reminder. "Katrine always had a knack for punishment in the worst possible way," Alfred told them, fondly remembering his former love.
"Do you remember what Charlie said to Katrine when she tried to break up our drinking celebration that night?" Malcolm asked with a snicker.
"I don't rightly recall," Griff replied with a frown, wracking his brain for the answer.
"That's because we were all too sozzled to remember it," Peter quipped.
"I believe he told her to bugger off and that a lady should be at home in the kitchen taking care of her family," Alfred recalled, visibly grimacing with Charlie's brashness.
That caused another round of boisterous laughter, remembering how much more it had infuriated their team leader. "Boy, did poor Charlie ever get a tongue lashing for that comment," Peter reminded them.
"He deserved it," Alfred decided. "He apologized later once he'd sobered up."
"Things were a bit icy around here for a few days after that," Malcolm told them.
"Well, you could hardly blame Katrine," Alfred said. "She'd only been named team leader a month before and she found herself burdened with a bunch of brash, young arses who thought we were invincible."
"I beg your pardon, but I was not one of those brash, young arses that you spoke of," Laurel added as she ambled into the kitchen, tightening the belt of her bathrobe as she attempted to stifle a yawn.
"I'm sorry, lassie," Malcolm apologized as he rubbed her back. "Did our laughing wake you?"
"I was having difficulty sleeping anyway," she confessed as she slid into a chair next to her husband.
Peter raised his glass of whiskey to Laurel with a playful smirk on his face. "You might not have been one the brash, young arses, but you were a mighty force to be reckoned with nonetheless, mon cheri. You and Katrine were twin tyrants when it came down to business."
"She still is, aren't you, lassie?" Mal proudly said as his arm slipped around her shoulders.
"And don't you forget it," she agreed, poking him in the chest. "Pour me a glass, Peter."
"Laurel May!" Mal exclaimed. "You've never been much of a drinker and especially not at…five thirty-six in the morning."
"We need to have a toast for our fallen mates," she pointed out, taking the glass from Peter. She held her glass up towards the middle of the table, looking expectantly at the others to join her. "To Charlie and Katrine. May their spirits live on in our hearts and minds until we join them."
"To Charlie and Katrine," the others said, clinking their glasses.
Each took a healthy swallow of the whiskey, some savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down their throats. Others were just trying not to heave from the vapors of the cheap liquor. "Let's make them proud today and honor them as they deserve," Griffin added.
"Agreed," Alfred and the others murmured.
"Hey, where was Laurel when we were drinking our arses off that night?" Peter inquired. "I don't recall you being here for that one."
"Knowing my Laurel, she was being a good lass," Malcolm said. "She was probably at church."
Laurel stood to her feet with a mischievous glint in her pale blue eyes. "I was at a hotel meeting a man," she revealed with a smile, turning on her heel and walking out of the kitchen.
"Bollocks," Malcolm scoffed as he took another drink. "I don't believe that for one second."
"You know I think she's right," Alfred thoughtfully replied. "She wasn't anywhere here in the bunker at all that night. I seem to recall her coming in quite early the next morning."
"How could you remember that?" Griffin asked. "We were so blasted I don't even remember going to bed let alone getting out of bed the next day."
"I remember stumbling to the kitchen the next morning for some much-needed coffee when I saw Laurel coming in," Alfred revealed. "I recall she was looking happy and quite satisfied if you ask me."
"What?" Malcolm exclaimed as he sat upright in his chair. "Laurel! Get back here, lassie. I have some questions for you."
"Wasn't she seeing that young, up-and-coming detective from Scotland Yard at the time?" Peter asked.
"Laurel!" Malcolm bellowed, receiving no response as his jealousy bloomed.
"I think you're right," Alfred agreed. "Detective Fitzpatrick I believe. Nice Irish fellow."
"Irish? He was Irish? I don't remember any of that," Malcolm grumbled, getting to his feet. "Laurel!"
Alfred, Griffin, and Peter laughed as Malcolm's bellowing voice could be heard clear down the hall as he went in search of his wife. The men enjoyed another glass of whiskey, reminiscing about old times and old cases, but the warmth of the moment was dim without their fellow teammates there to join in with them.
Gotham; August 18th, 00:01 EST
Batwoman walked across the roof of the bank towards her husband who was standing watch from the ledge over the city below. He had his left boot up on the edge, his elbow resting on his knee. She smiled to herself as she approached. It was the same pose he had when they had staked out that museum and ended up finding Circe.
She had tried hinting at the fact that she'd like to go out with him, to be a normal man and woman out on a date for once. Unfortunately, he had hit her with a list of reasons why it would never work between them. She should have seen his reasons for what it was—a pathetic attempt to avoid getting involved with her. Instead, she'd been completely annoyed with him.
Now, looking back on it, it was easy to see that he'd obviously been thinking about having a relationship with her at that time or he never would've created such a ridiculous list. However, at the time, she had been far too irritated to see it. Of course, Circe setting off the alarm and interrupting their conversation hadn't helped in the least.
"Did you find anything?" he asked as she approached without even turning around.
"No, not yet, but I know they're here," she replied as she came to stand next to him, her arms folding against her chest. "Something doesn't feel right."
"Agreed," he grimly stated. "They're here, but they're not making their presence known just yet and I'm not certain why."
"Do you think Talia and Ra's are here too?"
"I wouldn't put it past them," he admitted. "David Cain is definitely here. It's his daughter. He's going to try to persuade her to come home with him with promises he never intends to keep."
"Hopefully, Cassandra is too smart for that," she said. "They treated her like she was some animal to be trained for service."
"That stops here and now."
Diana couldn't agree more with him. Her fury over what they had done to Cassandra flowed like molten lava through her veins. She was anxious for a showdown with David Cain and the League of Assassins. She had no illusions about the fact that Ra's al Ghul survived his escape from Themyscira, making his way home to recover.
They'd also learned from Jason that Talia had survived her run-in with Hades. Evidently, the Lazarus Pit had saved her life, but it had affected her mind. It hurt her heart for Damian's sake that his mother was alive, but fighting the demons in her mind for control over herself.
"What are we going to do if Talia is here?" she softly asked, knowing that Bruce had already been thinking the same thing.
"I don't know," he admitted, his gaze narrowing as he watched a suspicious man below as he stumbled down the street. "Damian has the right to see his mother, but if she isn't in her right mind…"
"You don't want to expose him to that," she finished for him.
"I don't, but I don't want him to hate me for keeping him from his mother," he stated, the emotional conflict he was warring with evident in his voice. "It's going to be bad either way."
Diana placed a reassuring hand on his back. "Maybe she's not even here in Gotham."
He turned his head to give her a cynical look. "When have we ever been that lucky?"
"I'm sorry…you're right," she conceded, her hand falling to her side. "I suppose we'll cross that bridge if we come to it."
"Is she still out with Red Robin?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "They finished in Robinson Park and were heading downtown."
"I don't know if it's a good idea to have her out in Gotham when the League of Assassins are lurking about, but we can't keep her locked up in the manor."
"We've already determined she's more than capable of taking care of herself," she reminded him. "Besides, she's with Red Robin. He won't let anything happen to her."
"I know, but this is also the League of Assassins," he pointed out. "These are unlike anything that you've ever seen before."
"We can be there in a matter of seconds if needed."
"We need to do something to draw them out so we can take them head-on," he told her as if he hadn't heard a word that she'd just said to him. "I'd rather do that than wait for them to strike. This way we can control the variables and limit any casualties."
"How do you plan on drawing them out?"
"I think we're going to have to use Cassandra as bait to do it."
"You're really going to dangle her out there to draw them out?" she questioned him. "You were just saying that you don't think it's a good idea for her to be out in Gotham."
Bruce shook his head, his lips thinning into a grim line. "I know," he conceded. "I hate to do it, but it's our best option right now."
"You know she'll do it," she replied.
"Yes, but that doesn't make it any easier," he said with a drawn-out sigh. "She's been used as it is without us using her too."
"We wouldn't be using her in the sense that her father has," she pointed out. "This is to save her life and keep her safe, not for our own selfish desires."
"Agreed," he finally responded after several moments. He hit his commlink, deciding it was time to move. "Batman to Red Robin. Meet us at the top of Gotham Bank."
"We're actually pretty close," he revealed. "We can be there in five minutes."
"We'll all meet in front of the bank," Batman told him. "We're going to draw Cain and the assassins out. I want to end this tonight."
There was silence on the other end before Tim finally answered. "Cassandra is totally in," he replied. "I think she wants this done too."
"I'll get the others here. Batman out."
"I just contacted Oracle," Diana informed him. "She's letting the others know they need to get here now. Do you think this is going to work?"
"I do," he confirmed with a definitive nod. "They're out there watching. I can feel it."
"I wish we knew just how many we were going up against," she murmured, thinking out loud.
"It'll be tough, but I know that we can handle them," he assured, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "I have no doubt about that."
"I don't either, but I'd like to keep Cassandra out of it if at all possible."
"I don't think we're going to be able to, but it probably wouldn't hurt if one of us was near her at all times. I don't want Cain trying to cart her off."
"I won't let her out of my sight."
"None of us will," Jason agreed as he and Artemis met them on top of the roof. "I'm more than ready to kick the League out of Gotham."
"They're not going to go without a pretty nasty fight," Batman reminded them.
"We can handle them," Artemis reassured him.
"Let's get down to the street," Batman suggested. "The sooner they see all of us the sooner they're make their presence known."
They all assembled on the street below just as Damian, Tim, and Cassandra showed up. "This is going to be just like a wild west gunfight," Jason quipped with excitement.
"No guns," Batman adamantly stated, giving Red Hood a pointed look.
"Lighten up," he told him. "It was just a joke…well, sort of."
Batman made his way to Cassandra, placing a hand on her shoulder. "If you don't want to be here, I understand," he said. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to, but you have every right to be a part of this."
Cassandra firmly nodded her head as she stared into the cowled face of the Batman. She didn't know how to explain it, but she felt an inexplicable draw towards him. There was a great strength of character in him that she admired, qualities that her father didn't possess. She found that she wanted to learn from him as well as Diana. She also not only wanted to be a part of this family but also be a protector of Gotham too.
He smiled at her, squeezing her shoulder in assurance. "You're a brave girl," he told her. "Not everyone would be strong enough to stand up to their father let alone the League of Assassins, knowing that what they are doing is wrong."
Cassandra smiled broadly in response, his praise filling a void inside of her that had yearned for it.
"Do you think my mother or grandfather is here?" Robin asked, standing on the other side of his father.
"Batwoman and I were wondering the same thing," Batman admitted. "I wouldn't be surprised if Talia is here."
"Looking for me, beloved?"
Everyone froze with the sound of Talia al Ghul's voice. Turning, they found her standing several yards away with Ubu flanking her right and David Cain flanking her left. Behind them, there were at least ten assassins armed and more than ready for a fight.
"Wow," Red Hood murmured. "That happened faster than I'd guessed."
"I know how my beloved thinks," Talia taunted them. "Our bond remains strong even after all of this time."
Batwoman took a step forward, anxious to rearrange Talia's face. She didn't care at that moment that she was Damian's mother. She wasn't going to let her try to break up their family. Her anger only intensified when Talia smirked at her, but she wasn't about to let her get under her skin.
"Cassandra, come home with me," David insisted, holding his hand out to her. "Come with us and we'll forget this ever happened."
"She's not going anywhere," Red Robin stated, moving to stand in front of Cassandra.
"Are you speaking for her?" Talia demanded to know.
"Thanks to her worthless father, she can't speak so we are," Jason snarled.
"I did what I felt was best for my daughter," David icily stated as he took a step forward.
"You did what was best for you and Ra's," Batman growled. "You never had Cassandra's best interest in mind."
"Damian, come with me," Talia summoned him. "It's time you come home where you belong."
Robin looked at his mother before turning to look at his father. He could feel the war rising up inside of him. How would he choose between his father and his mother? He'd known his mother longer, but she'd also been the one who had abandoned him. She'd left him behind and never looked back.
His father had been the one who had accepted him, welcoming him into their home. Family…it was something that his mother had never given him anything close to. Growing up with Ubu and the League of Assassins hadn't lent itself to a very homelike feel. His family had been his mother and his grandfather.
Batman looked at his son, wondering what he would do. If he chose to go with his mother, it would create a fracture in his heart. At the same time, he knew he couldn't stand in the way of what his son wanted. It would only lead to hatred and resentment. He couldn't risk that.
"Damian," Talia snapped, her patience running thin. "Come here. It's time to take your place with your grandfather and me."
Damian could feel everyone's eyes focused on him—his mother, his father, his family, the League of Assassins, Ubu. They were all waiting with bated breath to see who he would choose. He knew that his brothers had been wondering who he would side with if he was ever put in this position.
And now the time had finally come to make that decision.
A/N: Whoa. What will he do now?
UP NEXT: Time is running out as Legionnaire grows closer. Who will Damian choose and will Cassandra stay in Gotham?
Thank you all for following me on this story. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue the Family series after this fic. I'm just not getting the hits on it as I did with the previous Family fics. There's a huge drop in readers compared to the last Family fic. I will definitely continue the Wayne Family Chronicles series with family one-shots though.