Psalms of the Wonderbat
A/N: I would like to give a big shout out to LOTSlover (and the entire Wonderbat community) for inspiring me to get back into writing Wonderbat after nearly ten years. I love your stories and hope you enjoy my take on Bruce and Diana! Enjoy!
Psalm:
Function: noun. Etymology: Old English psealm "psalm," from Latin psalmus (same meaning), from Greek psalmos "psalm," literally, "twanging of a harp," from psallein "to pluck, play a stringed musical instrument."
1: a sacred song or poem.
"I know you're thinking I'm heartless
I know you're thinking I'm cold
I'm just protecting my innocence
I'm just protecting my soul
I'm never gonna let you close to me
Even though you mean the most to me
'Cause every time I open up, it hurts
So I'm never gonna get too close to you
Even when I mean the most to you
In case you go and leave me in the dirt"
~ "Too Good at Goodbyes" by Sam Smith
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Too Good at Goodbyes
Gotham City, February 7th, 02:37 EST
He felt numb. It was as if the blood in his veins has turned to ice, paralyzing his heart and seizing his lungs. Snow fell fast and heavy around him on his perch atop Wayne Tower but, he made no notice. His thoughts consumed by what he has done.
What was the hell was I thinking? Was this really for the best? He kept repeating those questions silently in his mind, as his gauntleted right hand reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as he tries to rub the headache, fatigue and flashbacks of the previous night from his eyes.
Underestimating the sheer magnitude of the inevitable fallout from his actions last night, he was vastly unprepared for the moment those words left his lips, wishing he never said them.
The air felt like it has been sucked out of the room, neither one of them being able to breathe in the black hole that had consumed them.
Blue eyes meet blue eyes, emotions raging, raw and fragile. He could see the hurt, anger and betrayal swimming in her beautiful blue eyes as the tears began to pour from them, wishing he could bury his hand in her raven locks and kiss away the pain he caused her.
It's for the best, he told himself. She would only wind up getting hurt down the road anyway, better to do it sooner rather than later. It will make it easier. The mission always comes first. There's no room for her; no room for love in my life. I don't deserve it or her. Bullshit.
For someone so intelligent and compassionate, he can be an absolute moron and an insufferable asshole.
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Flashback
Gotham City Museum of Art History, February 6th, 19:30 EST
The main room of the Museum of Art History was filled with Gotham's Wealthy and Elite, flashing their cheque books around and stroking their egos. Champagne flowed freely as the Trust Fund Brigade, as Dick and Tim call them, peacock around the room.
A string quartet was stationed in the left corner of the room, hors-d'oeuvres arranged on long banquet table that ran along the back wall, and a circle-shaped bar taking up the center of the room.
Round tables were arranged around the room for dinner, dressed with gold and silver linens and bobbles, candles and olive branches the centerpieces on every tabletop surface, and burgundy tapestries strung up around the walls.
For Bruce Wayne, it was expected he be there. He hated these things. His mother was a patron of the Arts in Gotham and he was here to honour her memory. He could care less about who was here and what they had to drone on about. A sizable cheque from him already in the hands of the Museum's Director, making it easier to feel better about leaving as soon as he could.
A wrestling match between his head and his heart was raging on underneath the calm and jovial facade that was the Playboy persona this night, as it was almost every night since she flew into his life a little less than five years ago. He wasn't supposed to fall in love. There's no room in his life for it. There's no room in his life for her. She'll only end up getting hurt in the end. There's the mission and nothing else.
Sitting at the bar, Bruce took another sip from the glass of Whiskey he'd been nursing for the last fifteen minutes, indulging himself in the burning sensation in his throat as he swallowed the amber liquid with a grimace. He hasn't imbibed alcohol in years. His need to be in control of himself mentally and physically at all times too important to lose over something like drinking, however; the last few nights of restless slumbers weighed heavily on his mind and heart. This was his fourth glass in the last hour and a half.
He knew what his decision had to be and he needed to make and execute it as soon as possible. Tonight, it would be done.
Pouring the last of his drink down his throat, he signaled the bartender to serve him another round. It was almost showtime.
The theme of this year's annual charity gala was Ancient Greek Artifacts and the Museum had secured Wonder Woman as a Guest of Honour. She was set to arrive any minute.
Bruce could feel the liquor thrumming through his system, giving him false nerves of steels when, in reality, he felt like he was dying inside a little more with each passing minute.
His head turned sharply towards a loud commotion at the entrance, Diana making her arrival. Throngs of people crowded around the doorway in hopes to get the Amazon Princess's attention.
Several minutes passed when, finally, the sea of people parted and Diana came into his view. His jaw swiftly fell to the floor; she was breathtaking.
Her hair fell in long, inky black waves down her back like a midnight waterfall gleaming in the moonlight. Oh, how he dreamed about running his hands through that hair.
She wore a floor length, aubergine-coloured, satin and sequin gown with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline he couldn't draw his gazes away from. His mouth suddenly became dry. The dress was made for her and it fit her like a second skin. Fuck.
No, he growled internally at himself, as he closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. Don't lose focus. This is the only way to keep her safe from the hellish world I live in. Tonight, I will prove to her I am no good for her. The soothing light that permeates his dark heart whenever she was near would surely be dulled or completely extinguished if he made a place for her in his heart and his world, suffocating her. He had to save her from himself. Keep telling yourself that, Wayne, he groused mentally to himself, you may actually believe it one day.
What are you so afraid of? She is the best thing that's ever happened to you. She's stronger than you give her credit for. You could make each other so happy. I would crash her soul. These thoughts just some of the many questions and arguments that nagged him to reconsider tonight's playbill. He knew his reasons for pushing her away seemed irrational and ridiculous but, he didn't have to justify them to anyone. He had built thick, cold, lead walls around his tormented heart to keep it safe from further pain and suffering. Letting Diana in to only have her either inevitably leave him, no longer be able to tolerate him and his moods, or have her taken away from him by The Joker or another one of the many villains that clog up Gotham's arteries like a heart disease. He would never survive another episode like what he went through after his parents were murdered in front of him at age eight. It would utterly destroy him if being with him was the reason she was taken from the World, and him, too soon.
If he were being truthful with himself, she had carved a place in his heart and life years ago. Her tenacity and strong will making quick work of his defenses. Couple that with her intelligence, ferocity, compassionate heart, warrior spirit and her impossibly blue eyes that he could get lost in for days, and he was a dead man walking. Damn stubborn, infuriating, intelligent, beautiful Amazon Princess. His Amazon Princess.
No! His head screamed at him, she is not yours and she never will be. You need to let her go, now. She can move on and find someone else who can give her everything you can't. Bile suddenly rushes up his esophagus at the though of another man holding her, touching her, making her scream his name and she gives herself to him for the first time.
His body couldn't take anymore. The constant warring of his thoughts and emotions when it came to her had finally gotten too loud to lock away deep inside himself. She had become too much of distraction, thoughts of her and the life he knew he could never offer her clouding his mind.
Dragged from his brooding thoughts by the melodious sound of her lilting laughter, as she entertained a group of admirers. She had turned away from him while he was lost in his head, her back facing him. Sweet Aphrodite, indeed. The thin spaghetti straps of her dress were the only material obstructing his view of her bare skin, coming together in a 'V' shape just below her waistline, meeting with the rest of her dress once more, flowing to the floor with the skirt.
No longer in control of his body, and his drink forgotten on the bar, he crossed the room in record time to get to her, like a moth being drawn to the brightest flame.
Before he could stop himself, he was standing behind her, right hand extended out in front of him, willing his body to turn and walk back to the bar or get the hell out of there.
"May I have this dance?" His sensual baritone voice tickling her ears as she turned to face him, a slight shiver running along her spine at the smooth as silk sound of his voice behind her. A dazzling smile lit her face and excitement danced in he eyes as their gazes locked. The love he saw swimming in the sparkling blue depths of her eyes stole his breath away once more. He was the reason for the happiness written all over her face. He just hoped after tonight he would be able to look into those magnificent azure orbs without seeing the hatred and disgust he knew he would find in them from now on.
"Mister Wayne," she warmly greeted him, "I would be delighted. I believe you still owe me a dance, as our last one was cut short."
She placed her hand in his, scorching fire shot up his arm as they made contact. He swiftly guided her to the dancefloor, as a new song started to play. It was surreal; time seemed to come to slow to a crawl as he spun her out and back towards him once they reached their destination.
They settled into a comfortable embrace, swaying in time with the music, cheek to cheek. His left arm securely wrapped around her waist pulling her tight to him, his hand rubbing small circles on her back; his right held her left up as they gracefully danced. All eyes were on them, jealous looks from both the men and women in attendance. They paid no notice, as the room and its occupants faded away around them. Before he could stop himself, whether from her intoxicating scent, his thoughts were given life as they left his lips.
"You look breathtaking, Princess," he huskily whispered into her ear, his lips grazing her ear sending erotic waves of energy through her body as if she had been struck by the most glorious lightning, her breath catching in her throat as she let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure. She slowly pulled back to look him in the eyes, a slight tint of pink gracing her cheeks with his compliment.
"You look very handsome yourself, Mister Wayne," she flirted back, her voice catching in her throat as she fell into his emotion-filled eyes, "I was hoping you would be here tonight," she sheepishly confessed.
"Why is that, Princess?" he asked her, his voice low and heavy with lust. Their eyes still locked, lost in each other as they continue to effortlessly glide around the dancefloor. He needed to regain his focus or he may not be able to do what needs to be done.
She broke the intense eye contact as she embarrassingly bowed her head, her cheeks lighting up bright red as she answered his question, "I haven't seen you around the Watchtower since we sparred three weeks ago and, I know you're very busy but, I've missed you and wanted to spend time with you," she rambled her confession to him, her whole face now engulfed in a bright shade of red, "I thought maybe you were avoiding me," she cast her gaze away from his piercing blue eyes.
She was so incredibly adorable and innocent in that moment. He was awestruck by her nervous candour. She was right, though; he had been avoiding her since they sparred last. That was the day he decided he needed to put permanent distance between them.
He felt so stupid, letting his emotion get the better of him that day. His steel resolve slipping away as she pinned him to the mat, the full weight of her body pressed again his, faces inches apart as she leaned in to gloat. With her defences down, he took the opportunity to grab her wrists and flip her over onto her back, pinning her hands above her head with his, his body now pressing firmly against hers. The air crackled with sexual tension as they both starred at each other, breathing heavy from exertion. The sound of his name breathlessly leaving her lips as she starred at him through hooded eyes, left him hot under the cowl. His mind didn't have time to catch up to his heart, as his lips crashed into hers. A lustful moan escaped her throat, as he continued to kiss her like a man dying of thirst. It took a few seconds for him to register what he was doing, and who he was doing it with, before he regained control of himself. He broke the kiss with a sharp gasp and quickly got up, pulling his cape around him, he cursed to himself as he profusely apologized to her for what he had just done as he helped her up off the training room floor. Once she was up, he abruptly turned on his heels and walked out of the room, Diana standing there stunned by the raw emotion he poured into their kiss, even though it was brief, confusion etched on her face as he walked away from her.
Coming back to the present, it was becoming exponentially hotter in the Museum as he held her gaze as she waited for him to say something. It was now or never; he had to get things moving before he lost what was left of his nerves.
"I was," he said nonchalantly, "I crossed a line that I swore I never would with a teammate. I put you in a position you should never have been in the first place. I was exhausted from long patrols that week with little to no sleep and I wasn't thinking straight. End of story," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "it meant nothing, don't read too much into it."
Diana pulled away to loosen the tight embrace they shared, too shocked at his words to respond. The air around them that day was electric, amplified to the Nth degree once his lips were pressed firmly against hers. She could feel his love for her pouring into as they passionately kiss on the floor of the training room. You can't fake that. He was lying to her and she wanted to know why.
She could smell the Whiskey on his breath. She hadn't noticed it before, too immersed in their own bubble. The words rolling off his tongue like daggers, popping the blissful bubble and stabbing her heart as she continued to gape at him.
"Bruce, have you been drinking?" she asks, shocked by the uncharacteristic and callous behaviour, well more callous towards her than what he normally was, from the man she loved with all her heart.
"I never miss a good party, Princess," he leered at her, "it makes the after party more fun."
"Why are you acting this way, Bruce?" hurt laced in her voice and reflected in her eyes.
"I'm still a man with needs, Diana," he said, forcefully pulling her against his body once more, his arousal pressing firmly against her thigh, "just because I'm not taking you home with me, doesn't mean I plan on going alone."
*SMACK!*
Bruce's head snapped to the side from the force of Diana's slap, thankful that she remembered to control her strength or he would have been picking his teeth up off the floor. He looked over at her as he nursed his right cheek, "What the hell was that for, Diana?" he growled out, people around them shifting their gaze to the couple in the middle of the floor.
Murmurs from the small audience their little performance garnered reached his ears, "what happened?" someone asked from behind him.
"Wonder Woman slapped Wayne!"
"He probably deserved it."
Diana, shocked by her temper getting the best of her in such a public display, quickly turned and stormed out of the room. Bruce was quick to follow.
Catching up with her in the main foyer of the Museum, Bruce called after her, grabbing her upper arm and spinning her around to face him: "Diana!"
"Don't you ever touch me again," she growled through gritted teeth as she pulled her arm from his grasp, her anger fully ignited, "you no longer have that privilege!" she shouts at him, tears threatening to fall from her glassy eyes as she got right up in he face, "you have strung me along for the last time, Bruce Wayne. I am done with whatever this was for you. I can't keep picking the pieces of my broken heart off the ground every time you get scared and pull away from us. From me. I don't deserve you treating me like this," fury rolling off her in waves, "I love you, Bruce," tears flowing uninhibitedly down her face at her admission, "Why won't you let yourself love me back?" her last question coming out as a choked whisper.
He wanted noting more than to scoop her up in his arms, kiss away the pain he has caused her, and tell her he loved her more than could be calculated or quantified, "we've been through this before, Diana," he started as he placed his hands in his pockets, hiding them so she can't see how tightly his fists are clenched or the blood that he is drawing from his nails digging into his palms creating crescent shaped cuts. He continues, speaking as evenly and with as much indifference as he could muster at this crucial moment, "I have too many issues and too much going on with Gotham to pursue a relationship, dating within the team always leads to disasters and if my enemies knew I have someone special, she would never be safe and I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason she was gone."
Taking a tentative step towards her unmoving body, mindful of her temper still raging under the surface, he stopped a few feet away, "You don't love me, Diana," he began gently, "and, I don't love you," a sharp pain ran through her chest as she looked back at him with a sadness and heartache that pervaded his soul. He hated himself more than he maybe had ever hated anyone before. Saying those words out loud felt like a mule kick to his gut, forcing the air from his lungs. He was the one causing her such pain and anguish, the sort he said he never wanted her to experience because of him. His issues getting in the way of his happiness once again and taking her down with him.
"That's not true and you know it," whispering in disbelief, why was he doing this? Taking a step forward, only two feet from him now, Diana bowed her head in prayer to the goddess Aphrodite for guidance and strength.
"It's getting late and I have to get ready for patrol," he stated, breaking the silence that had fallen over them, "good night, Diana," he says, sidestepping around her to leave, "and, goodbye."
End Flashback
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Gotham City, February 7th, 03:26 EST
He hadn't moved in almost an hour, lost deep in his brooding thoughts about the night before. Snow continued to pile up on and around him, not helping to warm the icy chill running through his body. Looking down to the street from on high, Bruce wondered, if he jumped, would his self-loathing disposition grant him the mobility to fire off his grapple line, or just let him plummet to the asphalt below. At least it would all stop. Checking the time again, he decided to call it a night. He fires a line and descended to the Batmobile parked in an alleyway below.
Climbing into the vehicle, he swiftly buckles his seatbelt and engages the autopilot feature, still not completely sober from his liquid supper.
He arrives back at the Batcave without incident and gets out of the vehicle, headed straight for the showers. He strips off his uniform along the way like a trail of breadcrumbs. He turns the hot water tap to the fully open position, not caring that he is practically scalding himself. Tears that were hidden earlier began to pour from his eyes, as he is invisibly sucker punched in the gut, as the full realization of what he just did cascades over him.
Clark will be out for blood when he hears what Bruce did to his best friend and sister. Wally and the two Johns would probably hold him down while Clark beat him half to death. Shayera would most likely familiarize him with her mace. There would be a line of people waiting to give him what he deserves for the pain he has caused Diana.
Turning off the tap, he towelled himself off and grabbed a pair of black sleep pants and a black t-shirt, and made his way to the manor entrance.
Pausing as he nears the top of the staircase that leads to the study, another wave of realization hits him square in the face: Alfred. Tim. Barbara. Dick. They would never forgive his actions last night. They had all grown closer to Diana during her stay at Wayne Manor following the Thanagarian Invasion and idolized and adored her.
Alfred worshiped Diana like the daughter he never had or, the Missus of the manor that will never be.
Tim looked to her as a Mother figure. Dick, as well, to a lesser extent, having known her through her sister, Donna, who he had spent time with as members of the Teen Titans in his earlier days.
Barbara idolized Diana and was glad to have the estrogen levels in the Manor double with her presence.
He let out a long, shaky breath as he willed himself to start moving again.
He stepped though the entranceway and found himself unceremoniously thrown to the floor by a mean right hook he never saw coming. Rubbing his jaw for the second time in the last few hours, he turned his head to see who decked him, his eyes widening is stunned disbelief.
Standing over him, shaking with barely contain rage was Dick Grayson.
"GET. UP!" Dick screamed at him.
"Dick…? What… are you doing…here?" Bruce asked from a heap on the floor.
"WHAT AM I DOING HERE?! I'm here to shove my foot up your ass, old man!" Dick started to move towards his mentor and father figure with look of pure disgust lighting his eyes.
"What in blue blazes in going on here?!" Alfred shouted from the doorway, Tim right behind him, fearing shining in his eyes. Dick and Bruce's blowouts were legendary for anyone who knows of their rocky past but, Tim had yet to witness one of these battle royales in person, Dick having left the Manor long before Tim arrived. Looks like tonight was the night, and it looked like it may end up being the biggest one to-date.
Dick turned to face the congregation in the doorway, Bruce still on the floor, "why don't you ask him what he did tonight?" he spat out in contempt for the man who raised him as he flung an accusatory finger in Bruce's direction.
Having recovered enough to get to his feet, Bruce leaned back against the front of his desk, one hand on the desk, the other on his aching face. At least everyone saw Diana slap him earlier, so no one would question the now imminent discolouration of his soon-to-be bruised cheek on Monday at the office.
"I don't know…"
"Save it, Bruce. I know exactly what you did tonight and I got a front row seat to everything. What the FUCK is wrong with you?!"
"What are you talking about?" Bruce said, curiosity marring is face, wondering Dick's source.
Deflating only slightly, Dick began: "You miss out on a lot of things when you're busy trying to push everyone out of your life. Did you know I've been seeing someone for the past few months?" Dick asked, Bruce hung his head, shaking it 'no', "she's the most wonderful person I've ever met and she seem to find something she like about me to stick around. She moved in with me a few weeks ago."
"I'm happy for you," Bruce said earnestly. He was glad he didn't pass his commitment issue down to his eldest son but, still didn't see what the point was.
"Save it. Because of you, my girlfriend thought she was having the most excoriating heartache anyone had ever felt."
"I don't see your point, Dick."
"My girlfriend shares a piece of her sister's soul," realization beginning to dawn on The Batman, "they feel everything that makes them happy, sad, angry, whatever and, tonight, she felt the full force of you ripping her sister's heat from her chest and stomped all over it!"
Donna Troy. His son was dating: "…Donna…" Bruce whispered.
"Yes. Donna," Alfred and Tim stood in the room, afraid to move or make sound. The fog of confusion was starting to lift around them as Dick continued, "not more than thirty minutes later, Diana was on our doorstep. She told us everything, start to finish. You are one 'Grade A' Asshole, aren't you?"
"It's no one's business except Diana and I," Bruce snapped.
"You better hope your shit is in order because you are about to have half the superhero community gunning for you for hurting her like that," Dick warned him in tone that left no room for questioning.
"Master Bruce, what happened with the Princess?" Alfred ask, afraid of the answer he would receive.
"I told her to stop pining over me and move on. That I didn't love her and we could never be more than teammates," he said, shakily exhaling the breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"Are you out of your mind? Diana's the best thing to ever happen to you and you blew her off?" Tim said incredulously.
"It had to be done. She will be much happier if she can just move and find someone who can give her what she needs, deserves. I can't be that person," the confession rolling rapid off his tongue, "she is a teammate, nothing more. I have already sent my resignation from the League to J'onn and Clark, effective: immediately."
The silence that hung in the air was deafening. He was too good at goodbyes.
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"Too Good at Goodbyes" by Sam Smith
You must think that I'm stupid
You must think that I'm a fool
You must think that I'm new to this
But I have seen this all before
I'm never gonna let you close to me
Even though you mean the most to me
'Cause every time I open up, it hurts
So I'm never gonna get too close to you
Even when I mean the most to you
In case you go and leave me in the dirt
But every time you hurt me, the less that I cry
And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry
And every time you walk out, the less I love you
Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true
I'm way too good at goodbyes
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
I'm way too good at goodbyes
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
I know you're thinking I'm heartless
I know you're thinking I'm cold
I'm just protecting my innocence
I'm just protecting my soul
I'm never gonna let you close to me
Even though you mean the most to me
'Cause every time I open up, it hurts
So I'm never gonna get too close to you
Even when I mean the most to you
In case you go and leave me in the dirt
But every time you hurt me, the less that I cry
And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry
And every time you walk out, the less I love you
Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true
I'm way too good at goodbyes
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
I'm way too good at goodbyes
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
No way that you'll see me cry
(No way that you'll see me cry)
I'm way too good at goodbyes
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
No
No, no, no, no, no
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
No, no, no, no
No, no, no
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
(No way that you'll see me cry)
(I'm way too good at goodbyes)
'Cause every time you hurt me, the less that I cry
And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry
And every time you walk out, the less I love you
Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true
I'm way too good at goodbyes
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A/N: It's been nearly ten years since I last uploaded a story but, I'm back and feeling great about what where the Wonderbat community is right now. I love that there are so many others out there who share my love for them!
Another songfic will be post hopefully soon for you to enjoy. Not all of them will be necessarily happy endings. They will explore different scenarios that relate to a song that sparked the idea for the one-shot. If people like a certain songfic, I may expand on it in the future as a full story. For now, these little snippets are all I can do with what little time I have to write these days. I hope you enjoy what I come up with!
Please review 😊!