Hunter's Night

By Serena

A/N: Glad you all liked that chapter... It was a difficult one to write. This one was, too. Quick change of subject - is anyone else as excited for Man of Steel as I am? It looks fantastic. Such a great cast. I was rooting for Henry Cavill to be Clark before Superman Returns even came out. I'm so excited.

However, for this story, I still see him as Bruce.

QUESTION - I was thinking of starting a video podcast, maybe doing a kind of question/answer type of thing. I've been wanting to do my own videos for a while, but honestly, it's all a bit intimidating. Thoughts?

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Bruce Wayne

It was slightly amusing to see the flabbergasted expression on Dick Grayson's face. Well, he would rather see confusion and bewilderment than anger and fear. The boy looked exhausted, and there was that haunted gleam in his eyes that Bruce knew all too well. The boy had been through hell, and he'd be damned if Dick Grayson would grow up without friends or family, alone in the world, and at the mercy of uncaring strangers.

The boy was strong, that much was clear. He had a good head on his shoulders. And he needed protection and guidance. Despite everything that had happened to him, Grayson was attempting to be brave. He'd done well last night; Bruce had been surprisingly impressed.

The boy stared at him for a long moment, his eyes wide. "No. Way. You're Bruce Wayne?"

"Afraid so," said Bruce with a faint smile.

"You're - you're like the richest man in Gotham! Or on the planet!" Dick blurted out. "This is your house, isn't it?" When Bruce nodded, Dick went on, "I can't believe this - you're Bruce Wayne. Why..." He hesitated. "Were you the one who decided to hide me?"

"Diana and I offered to, yes," replied Bruce, glancing at his fiancee. "But Dick, it's more than that." He paused, glanced at Diana again, and then back to the boy. "If you'll have us," he added, "we'd like to make this a more permanent solution. We'd like to adopt you, Dick. As foster parents, to start."

Dick just stared at him. "Me?" he blurted out. "Why?"

Bruce felt a strong pang of sorrow. "Because," he said after a moment, "I know what it's like to lose the ones you love. When I was eight, I lost my parents, too. But I had someone to look out for me after they died. I don't want you to grow up alone, Dick."

"But... I'm nobody," said Dick after a moment, his eyes downcast. "You don't have to do this... out of charity or something."

"It's not, Dick," Bruce told him firmly. "We both saw what happened to your parents. You'll be safe here, and you'll have a home."

"Okay," Dick said finally, still looking stunned. "If you want to..."

"If you want to think it over, there's no rush, hon," said Diana warmly.

Dick regarded her carefully, then looked back at Bruce. "I mean... it's not like I have anywhere else to go..." His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I mean, I'm grateful for everything you've done, Mr. Wayne, and I'm not saying that I don't want to stay - "

"Dick, calm down," said Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Take as much time as you need. When you're ready, let us know. For now, we'll take it day by day. Sound good?"

"Yes, sir," answered Dick, still in shock.

Bruce nodded, rose to his feet, and went over to the fridge. "It's been a long night. Eat up. Then, if you want, you can get some more rest. We have a bedroom all ready for you. Detective Sage will have your clothes and belongings at the station - we'll have them brought over here by someone we can trust."

"Batman?" Dick blurted out. "You mean Batman? Do you know him?"

It was only a matter of time before Dick discovered the truth.

"No, afraid not," said Bruce lightly, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "I heard he dropped you off, though."

"He's so cool," breathed Dick. "He's awesome. I want to learn how to fight like him."

Bruce exchanged knowing glances with Diana.

"Well," said Bruce, "I'm afraid I'm ignorant when it comes to things like fighting and martial arts - and I'm not sure anyone is really at Batman's level - " Diana coughed, hiding a roll of her eyes - "But," he added, shooting her a look, "maybe we can get you some lessons down the road. For now, let's take things slow, all right?"

Dick nodded, but Bruce could see that determined, eager light shining in the boy's eyes.

About an hour after Dick had awoken, giving Bruce and me time to talk with him, we heard the pitter-patter of little feet, and Cassandra bolted into the kitchen. Dick, now eating some blueberry pancakes I'd made for him, stared at her for a second as she bounded up to him, jumped onto the nearby stool, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. He blushed, looked extremely confused, and watched her with wide eyes as she hopped down and allowed herself to be swung up into Bruce's arms.

"Morning, munchkin," greeted Bruce, pressing a quick kiss to her head. "Dick, this is Cass, our daughter."

Cassie looked up at him and signed something. Dick looked even more confused at this point.

"Cass uses sign language to talk," Bruce explained. "She's not deaf... but she uses sign language to talk."

Dick looked very much like he wanted to ask why she didn't speak. "I don't know any sign language," he said finally. "But... I've always wanted to learn."

Cass signed, We should have Barbara come over. We can all play Scrabble.

I felt my heart ache. I swallowed, rubbed my eyes, and said in a low voice, "Cass... there's something we need to tell you." Bruce tensed, and Cass glanced at both of us, puzzled, and suddenly anxious. "Cass," I said, licking my lips, "Barbara... she got hurt last night. She's... she's in the hospital."

Cass stiffened. How?

I hesitated telling her. It was hard to remember that she'd seen so much already. And I knew she would find out one way or another. "She was shot," I said finally.

Cass's face tightened. Who shot her?

"We don't know yet," I said gravely. "But we'll -" I hesitated, remembering Dick, "Commissioner Gordon will find out."

Cass recognized my hesitation, glanced at Dick, and signed, How long is he staying?

"For as long as he wants," Bruce replied.

Cass looked at Dick, hard. He's going to find out, she signed. If he stays.

"I know," I said softly. "I know."

Cass held one of Bruce's hands tightly for a moment, then signed, Will she be okay?

I nodded slowly. "She'll be fine. We're going to visit her today."

Cass's eyes were dark as she nodded. I sucked in a sharp breath when I realized I recognized that look. Her mother had that same expression. It was the expression of a killer, and it was the second time within twelve hours that I'd seen that look on Cass. But the next second, Cass blinked, glanced over at Dick, and hopped out of Bruce's arms. She tugged at his shirt, pointed to the door. Dick, hesitant, glanced at me.

"She wants to show you your bedroom," I said, hiding the anxious ache in my stomach with a small smile. "You can also shower, if you want. I'm sure we have some of Bruce's old clothes lying around."

"Okay," said Dick, swallowing his last bit of pancake. "Thanks." He jumped out of his chair with acrobatic agility and followed Cass out of the kitchen.

Bruce watched the two of them go with intent eyes. He rubbed his stubble-covered chin, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, and then shot me a look.

"You saw that, didn't you."

I took Dick's plate and turned, putting in the sink. I knew exactly what he was talking about. "Yeah."

"She's going to get out there whether we want it or not," he warned, rising to his feet. "I think it might be time to get her an outfit."

"I just... I don't want her to get hurt," I said, rising off Dick's plate. "She's seen so much already, Bruce..."

"If we don't train her now, she'll end up on the streets, anyway," he replied quietly. "She's been cooped up too long. What she's been through, the constant stimulation, training... it's a wonder she hasn't tried to follow us earlier. Bane didn't scare her. You should've seen her, Diana."

"He hurt her," I snarled, nearly breaking the handle of the pan as I washed it. I released it, hissing a curse upon seeing I'd created a hand-shaped dent in the handle.

"I know," Bruce said, grave. "But she wasn't afraid of him. She looked just like Shiva, Di. That same instinct, that same drive. She was born to fight, no matter what we want for her. She can't help it. You're the same way - you know you are. We have to hone that for the better, or she'll just go out and fight herself. The last thing we want is a rebellious teen who's one of the deadliest fighters in the world."

I knew he was right. "I'll draw up some outfit options," I said finally. "And we'll start training her."

Bruce Wayne

Visiting Barbara Gordon at the hospital was one of the most difficult things Bruce had done in a long time. Losing his parents would always be the most horrific and traumatizing event in his life. But he couldn't imagine losing one of his children... or having one of his children harmed the way Barbara Gordon had been. She was crippled. She would never walk again.

As he reached Barbara's recovery room, his fists tightened. He'd find the man who hurt her. And he'd give him to Jim.

Due to Cass's wanting to see Barbara, he and Diana had to go in separately - She went in with Cass, wearing a different disguise, so as not to be associated with Bruce in any way. He came first, and knocked on the door to her room.

"Come in," came Jim Gordon's exhausted, haggard voice.

Bruce entered the room, slowly closed the door behind him, and felt his heart tighten. Barbara was asleep. She wore a neck brace, looked very pale. But she was breathing, and she would pull through. Jim looked like hell. He hadn't slept in well over twenty-four hours. His jacket had been discarded, his shirt was wrinkled, his hair was askew, and his jaw was covered in stubble.

"Jim," said Bruce, his voice rough. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks for coming," Jim rasped.

Bruce pressed a hand to Jim's shoulder for a moment, and took a seat in the chair beside him, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Diana and Cass will be here soon," he said finally. Jim nodded slowly. "How's she doing?" Bruce asked, his voice low, as he gazed at Barbara's sleeping form.

"Fine." Jim's voice said she was anything but. "She's woken up a few times."

"Does she know?"

"Yes."

Bruce's jaw flexed. "We're going to get him, Jim. Whoever did this to your daughter... we'll find him."

"I know." There was a long pause, and Jim ran a hand through his hair. "I heard about the Grayson murders," he added finally, clearly trying to change the subject. Bruce recognized it as something, anything to take his mind off of Barbara. "It was on the news. I heard Grayson was put into witness protection." He shot a sideways glance to Bruce. "Apparently the Batman was involved."

"So I heard."

Jim returned his gaze to Barbara. "That poor kid. He must be going through hell."

"He is."

"You'll be good for him," said Jim, surprising Bruce. "You understand what he's going through more than anyone else."

Bruce looked down at his hands, silent.

"They're going to keep coming after us," said Jim after another pause. "This is just the beginning. Maroni's scared, the Russian's scared... they're all scared. Things are changing, but it's going to get tougher." He swallowed. "I didn't want her to be here. I wanted her to stay with her mother, where it was safe. Away from me."

"You're her father," said Bruce. "She needs you."

"I know. I need her more." Jim's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I won't let them win, Bruce. We can't let them win. We push, they push back. We need to finish them. Push back harder. Show them they won't break us."

"They won't win," said Bruce, his voice guttural. "They won't, Jim. We won't let that happen."

"I just need to keep her safe... And I've already failed," whispered Jim.

"No," snapped Bruce. "You can't blame this on yourself."

"I'm the reason she's here," Jim said. "If I hadn't transferred to Gotham..." He rubbed his chin. "Did I ever tell you why I came here in the first place? I ratted out one of my own. I tried to be the decent man, the good cop. But once you betray one of your own... Once you rat out another cop... You're dead meat. Worse than dirt."

"Stop blaming Barbara's attack on yourself," ordered Bruce, shooting the other man a hard look. "It's not your fault, it's theirs. The scum of this city will try to destroy you. But you've made it this far. We will make things better. They will not win, Jim."

Jim looked away. "Right." He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and shifted in his chair. "Right," he repeated, distant.

"And I will do everything in my power to help your daughter. If there's any slight chance to get her walking again, I'll find it. Whatever it takes."

"I can't accept your money," said Jim wearily. "I owe you too much already."

"For your daughter, you can. It's not about you, Jim. It's about her." Bruce looked at the sleeping girl. "The night my parents died, there was a police officer on the scene. He took my father's coat, put it around my shoulders. He told me it would be all right. That I would be okay." Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Jim start. "This isn't about money," Bruce added roughly. "It's about family."

Silence.

Then, Jim nodded. "Right," he said quietly. "Family."

Neither of the men spoke for a long while after that, both absorbed in their own dark thoughts. However, there came a sound from the bed, and Barbara stirred. Jim jumped to his feet and hurried to her bedside, covering one of her small hands with his.

Barbara's eyes opened slowly, and she blinked a few times, her eyes tired, but surprisingly clear. "Hey, Daddy," she mumbled.

"Hi, sweetie," whispered Jim. He was shaking. "How are you feeling?" Bruce could tell he was barely functioning at this point.

"I'm okay," Barbara murmured. She swallowed, gazed up at her father. "You look tired, Daddy. You need to sleep."

"I'm fine," said Jim, smiling through his tears. "I'm fine, honey. I'm not leaving you. I've gone longer nights without sleep. I'll be fine."

"It's going to be all right, Daddy," Barbara whispered. "I'm gonna be okay."

"I know," said Jim, his voice barely audible. "I know."

"I'll be okay," repeated Barbara. "I'll have wheels. You won't be able to keep up with me."

Jim laughed through his tears. "You better watch your speed, young lady." He sniffed, wiped his nose. "I'll make sure to get something with strong brakes. Can't have you outrunning your old man."

Barbara smiled faintly. "I already do, Dad."

"I know," whispered Jim. "I know, sweetie." Tears rolled down his face.

"Don't cry, Daddy," murmured Barbara. "Don't cry."

And as Bruce sat there, watching that agonizing moment, he realized with astonishment that Barbara Gordon was one of the strongest people he had ever met. Even stronger than Jim Gordon himself.

Maybe even stronger than him.

Interlude

Only one torch lit the dark, hidden cave that night.

Alexa sat on the stone bench, reading, as usual. She flipped another page and sighed.

"I'm sure you have that book memorized by now," said the prisoner, breaking the silence.

Alexa glanced at the bars of the lonely cell. "I have them all memorized," she replied quietly. "But you already know that."

"Maybe you should get some new ones."

Alexa shut the book, rose to her feet, and stretched her arms, shaking her head. "You know we can't."

"Or else you'll be exiled. The same way Diana was."

"Hippolyta is even more anxious to keep us from the outside world," said Alexa, her eyes downcast. "She is furious with the discontent. Even her most trusted guard, Artemis, betrayed her and escaped. Artemis was once the fiercest warrior among us. She was the most eager to obey the queen's word."

"Things change," said the prisoner.

"Yes," said Alexa softly, running a hand over the spine of the book. "For some, at least."

"You want change, too, Alexa. Don't deny it."

Alexa's brow creased. "Don't try to manipulate me. I will not disobey the queen."

"I never said you would. But in your heart, you know I'm right."

Alexa moved closer to the bars of the cell, staring hard at the figure inside. "While it is true that I desire to be reunited with the outside world, it is not enough that I would betray my sisters, my queen, my ideals and principles for that. Here, we have peace. We are not slaves. We are not prisoners. We are Amazons, and we live in simple peace."

The prisoner inside smiled faintly. Two hands reached up to grip the bars of the cell, and the prisoner's forehead pressed against those bars. Straggly hair fell on either side of downcast, sad eyes. "I know, my friend. I know."

Alexa felt a strange twinge at the prisoner's term "friend." She had never actually considered... But her heart was oddly touched. What life had the prisoner known outside of that cell? None. None whatsoever. And despite everything... Alexa found herself feeling pity. After all... a person's heritage was not of their own choosing...

She stepped forward, even closer to the cell. "Perhaps... perhaps someday... Hippolyta will release you..."

The prisoner let out a bark of laughter. "You know Hippolyta well. Do you really think she would ever let me see the light of day?"

Alexa bit her lip, looked down. "Well... perhaps not... but... it's not as though it was your fault you were born..."

Another biting laugh. "Oh, of course not."

Alexa took another small step towards the bars. "Perhaps, if I spoke to her... told her you would not harm anyone..."

"She will never let me leave this cell," the prisoner interrupted quietly. "We both know that, Alexa."

Alexa looked away. "I know." Her voice trembled. "I just - "

Two hands shot out from the bars, smashed her head against the iron. Alexa fell limp against the cell door, unconscious. The prisoner hauled her up, reached for the keys, and after some difficulty, managed to unlock the door. Alexa dropped to the ground, and the door swung open. The prisoner stepped outside the cell for the first time.

"I'm sorry, Alexa," said the figure quietly, crouching down beside her. "You've been a good friend." A hand brushed over Alexa's red hair, checked her pulse. Steady. She was merely unconscious, and would be for several hours. "But I can't stay here anymore. I've paid for the crimes of my father long enough."

And the figure pressed a kiss to Alexa's forehead, took her sword and shield, and crept out of the dark cave with uncertain steps. Limbs ached, feet reached for ground, and a heart pounded in a chest, as new adrenaline rushed through veins. The figure finally reached the entrance to the cave, and, after a long moment, stepped out into the night. An owl hooted; the figure gripped the sword tightly in both hands, eyes darting around for any sign of life.

But then... the wind rustled through the trees. Whispered through skin. The figure became very still. Barely even breathed. Those eyes had never seen the sky. Never felt the wind. Those feet had never felt the cool soil under them. The figure inhaled, took in the true, fresh air. The pair of eyes closed.

At last... freedom.

The eyes opened.

Low in the sky hung the moon. A crimson moon.

"A hunter's moon," breathed the figure.

Thoughts?

Okay, so after this very depressing chapter, things will get a little lighter. I need to get some banter back in there. This chapter was on the short side, but I needed to cut it off there. Plus, I think a lot of you will freak out after the next chapter... For a good reason...

- Serena