Title: Time Will Tell

Author: DC Luder

Summary: After a tragic injury, Bruce must make the long road to recovery with the help of family and friends.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been revised to make it more awesome-er.

^V^

The night had been brisk as my breath rose in soft puffy clouds. I had dashed out of the theatre, slashing invisible foes with my invisible sword. I had heard my father's soft chuckle as he guided my mother out the door. As I had spun around and fought with the imaginary, corrupt soldiers, I had caught a glimpse of them.

My father had wrapped his arm around my mother's back, offering warmth against he chilly eve. She had turned her head and whispered something in his ear, something that had made them both smile.

Continuing my one man war on crime, my mother had said, "What a magnificent Zorro you make."

"I know. I'm the best swash-buckler in Gotham!" I had then proceeded to stab the a, imaging my foes falling to the ground.

My mother had laughed, "That you are, Brucie. But even great swordsman need to put their hats and coats on."

I had sighed and trudged back to where they had been standing. With as much pouting as I had been able to muster, I had put my coat and hat on. Then, before it was even buttoned all of the way, I had leapt forward and slashed at more invisible fiends.

Before my mother had been able to stop me, my father had laughed out loud, "Let him be, Mattie, he's busy saving the day."

As we left the front of the theatre, I had been ushered back to walk closer with them as we walked to the nearby parking lot. Usually, we had gone to the nicer places in the theatre district but since this was an older movie it was only playing at the Monarch. I hadn't admitted as much, but I had liked it better, their popcorn was hot and fresh and twice as buttery than the fancier places.

My father had promised a while ago that when it played, that he would take me. He had dressed as Zorro a few years ago at a Halloween party and after seeing the movie, it was amazing how much he now looked like Diego Del La Vega. I was about to say so when they started talking about the hospital with my mother. Rather than walk beside my father, I had lagged a step behind. When they did this at home, I would find Alfred. He would always talk to me.

I couldn't wait to tell him all about Zorro. Maybe he could help me make the cave in the back yard into my lair and I would have been able to---.

"Gimme yer wallet!" a shivering voice suddenly rang out.

I had looked up to see a dark clothed man standing with a gun beyond my father's clenched fist. My eyes had widened in fear as my father refused to do so. I had wanted to tell him to do it so he wouldn't get hurt when the man had glanced at my mother, who was shaking in fear.

"Fine, the lady's pearls'll do..."

My father had lunged at the man and a thunder crack had shot through the night air. I had watched as my father's body jerked and fell to the cold pavement. His arm had twitched a few times and then he lay very still. I had then looked up to see the man with the gun, hooking his wrist around my mother's pearl necklace. She had screamed as he pressed the gun to her throat.

Another thunder crack.

The pearls had flown everywhere, scattering over the dirty pavement, bouncing. My mother had fallen beside my father, convulsing as blood spurted from the cavern in her neck. I had tried to look away but I hadn't been able to, my eyes locked on the pool of dark red liquid surrounded my parents.

The man had vanished, his footsteps echoing nearly as loud as the pearls dancing.

Then there had been silence.

"No," I had whispered.

I was supposed to protect you.

My mother's tremors had ceased and she had finally grown still.

My father hadn't moved since he had fallen.

I had touched his arm. No response. I had pushed him a little bit. Nothing.

""No," my voice had quivered.

I then had set my hand on my mother's pained face.

"No," I had said more firmly, "No..."

As I had knelt between them, their blood had soaked through my pants. My nice slacks.

Closing my eyes, I had screamed, "No!"

"Bruce, it's okay!"

I opened them to find Dick sitting over me, the overhead lights on, showing him to be wearing a blue tee shirt and flannel pants. Even in my panicked state, I thought it was off that he looked like he had just taken a shower, hair wet, face a little red and jaw shaved.

"It was just a bad dream, Bruce, it's okay now… here, have some water," he said as he reached for the glass on the bedside table.

"It, it wasn't a dream it was real…" I took a deep breath before continuing, "It really happened." I had been having weird dreams and nightmares for weeks but it had been the first one that had felt as if I had actually been there.

When I covered my face with my hands instead of taking the water, Dick set the glass back down and then set a hand on my shoulder, "Bruce, I know it seems like it but... It's just a dream… it can't hurt you…"

"they were real, Dick," I managed before tears came flowing from my eyes, just as they had in the dream.

Puzzled, he asked, "Who was real, Bruce?"

"My parents... They were real."

Dick sighed, rubbing my shoulder, "Yes, they were real, but your dreams aren't."

I shook his head violently, taking my hands off of my face to push his arm off of me, "No. You're wrong. I was there. I know it, Dick."

Taking a breath, he then questioned, "What did you see, Bruce?"

In the two minutes since I had been woken up, the dream's impact had remained strong but the images hadn't. doing my best to focus, I started saying things that came to mind, "They were there. Laughing. Swords... I had a sword, bad guys everywhere... But they couldn't hurt me, 'cause I was Zorro. And then the thunder... They were bleeding... Dick, they were bleeding all over and the pearls..."

When I looked up at him, Dick's mouth was open in shock, eyes wide in surprise.

"That's what you saw?" he finally managed.

I nodded but when he asked if I had see anything else, I couldn't say what.

Rising to his feet, Dick straightened my blankets, turning on the bedside lamp before saying, "No wonder you were scared… It's still pretty late, you should try and get beack to sleep."

"Can you stay?"

He nodded, "Of course." As he walked over to turn the overhead lights off, I looked to the alarm clock, surprised to see it was four-thirty in the morning. Why would he shower so early in the morning?

After I laid back down, Dick sat on the edge of the bed once more, seemingly starign anywhere but at me.

"Dick, did I remember?"

He nodded, "A little bit."

"Wish I could remember all of my dream… Can I remember more, you think?"

Dick paused, looking down at his lap before replying, "Maybe."

^V^

"I am going to kill him, Barbara."

I smiled and put the phone receiver between my jaw and shoulder, "Hey, it's not all his fault."

Selina growled in response, "Um, yes it is. If he hadn't been so seductive and charming and hadn't always worn those damn skin tight suits… When he gets better, I'm going to kill him."

At four months pregnant, Selina was far from the happiest mother-to-be. Her first trimester had been horrendous, with near constant nausea, cramping and heartburn. The independent woman that she was, Selina had suffered in somewhat silence, ascertaining that she was more than capable of handling this latest hurdle in her life on her own. Although we were together frequently when at the Manor with Bruce, she had taken to calling me socially at all hours of the night. I wa bale to discern her mood by what hour she called. Anything after midnight and I was going to be getting an entertaining earful.

On the fifteenth of August, she had spiced things up by calling me at noon although rather than vent about her delicate condition, she had two topics on her agenda: maternity clothes shopping and a date with Bruce Wayne.

"I look like damned Moby Dick."

I sighed, adjusting the phone once more as my fingers fought with inserting a new aural device into Dick's cowl, "Selina, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news but you have five months to go."

"Don't remind me," she growled, "I'll be two Mob Dick's. The worst part is that quack of an obstetrician want to me gain more weight…"

"You are eating for two,," I snickered.

"I'm eating for three… hell, four. They measured the baby at my ultrasound Tuesday morning, already six inches and six and a half ounces… going to come out full grown…" Selina swore under her breath, before explaining she had spilt milk all over the counter.

"Happens to the best of us," I offered before asking, "So when are you going clothes shopping, I've been indoors all morning, could use dome fresh air."

"Well… I think I can hold out one more day… wait, you didn't go up to Bristol?"

"No, Dick ending up taking the day off, guess Bruce had a rough night."

The humor in her voice vanished, concern taking its place, "Is he okay?"

Dick had called me a little after eight to tell me he would be at the manor for the day. When I had asked what was up, he had explained that Bruce had a pretty bad nightmare. Not unusual, but then he had explained that it had sounded like Bruce had remembered the night of his parents' murders.

"This is big, Babs… This could be the start of it, you know?" I had told him to not get his hopes up and he had sighed, "I know, I know, I can't help it. My glass is always full."

Thinking of Selina's glass being empty, I finally replied, "He had a bad nightmare, had trouble getting back to sleep… Dick just couldn't leave him after that."

"Such a good boy." she commented, trying to put lightness back into her tone.

"That he is… well, I'll clear my schedule for tomorrow, if you need emotional support shopping for jeans with elastic waist bands."

She laughed sadly, "What would I do without you?"

"What would any of you do without me?"

I hung up after wishing her luck on her date. It had taken a considerable amount of begging and pleading to convince everyone Bruce was ready for a trip into the city. He had a perfect grasp on proper etiquette and his mild immaturity fit Bruce Wayne the Fop perfectly. That, and with Selina at his side, no harm would possibly come to him as she would be able to cover if anyone approached him.

It was actually a nice set up, late afternoon meal at a wonderful little place on the harbor that socialites seemed to avoid given its reasonably priced, delicious food. I only knew of it because it was one of Dad's favorite places. He had often jested, "Why eat bounty literally fresh from the sea for half the price for seafood two days old in midtown?"

After seeking approval, Dick had apparently informed Bruce of the plan last night and I wondered if the excitement of the trip to the city had sparked the nightmare. Before the shooting, on the rare nights I had spent at the Manor, I had been awoken from a dead sleep hearing cries and shouts in the dark. It was never a topic of dscussion the next morning and the one time I had brought it up to Alfred, he had been quick to settle any burning embers of inquiry.

Although where Bruce had once suffered his burden alone, he now looked for comfort after night terrors.

Thinking of the Manor, I found myself dialing the number, pleased to hear Dick greet, "What kinda pizza you want-a?"

"Caller ID… it takes all the fun out of impromptu phone calls."

"I beg to differ, I think it makes it all the more fun… What's up?"

"Not much, wondering how things were going up there."

Dick cleared his throat, "Not bad… trying to pick out an outfit for tonight. Bruce doesn't want to wear a tie."

I heard Bruce's faint voice, "It's too hot out."

"Formal casual, that's fine," I offered.

"All right," Dick conceded, "No tie… but you're still not driving."

"Since when has he been driving?" I asked while picturing him tearing up the priceless greens of the Manor's grounds.

Bruce said something and when asked Dick what it had been, he laughed, "Well, it was our little secret… we can trust Barbara, though. She won't rat us out to Alfred."

^V^

For the entire twenty-minute drive through the Bristol countryside and onto the main freeway, Master Bruce fidgeted. A nervous habit. A very disturbing nervous habit. Not so much in the ordinary man, but seeing such anxiety in a being that once had complete control over every inch of his body…

Every glance I took in the rear view mirror, he had obtained a different position in the seat, rolled up and unrolled his sleeves or had been at work on the control panel's buttons.

So for the duration of drive, we listened to nearly a dozen radio stations at countless volume levels and from many speaker combinations. Upon entering the city limits, his gaze fixed more often to the buildings and vehicles surrounding him and the fidgeting lessened. But did not cease.

He had been to the city a handful of times since May, namely to visit Ms. Barbara at her residence and to have bi-weekly appointments with Leslie. Each time we passed over the St. James parkway towards the first monstrous bridge leading into the city, he had been mesmerized by the skyline. To think he used to trapeze about on their rooftops.

This was to be his first public visit and although it was in a secluded part of town, I still found my self wrought with worry. He was going to be under the good care of Ms. Selina but I would have much preferred they simply dine at her penthouse. Master Dick had finally pointed out that keeping him locked up would only hinder his ability to completely redevelop his social skills. Keeping him stunted.

With a sigh, I had agreed.

Whilst preparing o leave for the late afternoon date, Master Tim had arrived at the Manor to utilize the training bay of the Cave. Rather than head directly to the study, Master Tim had opted to spend time with his former mentor, giving him tips on how to have a "good date". Despite it being summer vacation., Maser Tim had found little time to spend at the Manor during the days and the one instance I had inquired about it, a disheartened look had come over him.

"It's hard, Al," he had sighed, "I can't even look at him in the face."

I had offered words of encouragement, "It has been difficult for all of us, young sir, but given how little time yo have spent in this Family, alongside Miss Cassandra, I would imagine it to be insurmountably more difficult. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Walking into the den to see Master Tim recite compliments to say to Ms. Selina had put a much needed smile on my face.

He, as well as Master Dick and Ms. Cassandra had fought the never ending string of criminals throughout the summer months. Although at first it had been a hurdle to carry on in Master Bruce's stead, they had finally learned through trial and error how to manage on their own. I couldn't help but think that the skills he had taught them, the independent thinking and adaptability he had forced on them, had allowed them to proceed as quickly as they had.

He had raised them well.

And how would he fair with a child of his very own, from infancy rather than entering his life through tragedy?

The subject had been broached a number of times and since I was the one who spent the most time with my charge, I felt as if he was prepared to learn the truth. It was far better that he be told and have matters explained then to have him discover it on his own and have unanswered questions. Lord knew he had enough mysteries floating in his mind, he certainly had no need for another.

As we neared Ms. Kyle's apartment, his behavior returned and in fact worsened as he began to toy with the electronic window controls.

"Sir," I warned while pulling into the parking area out front.

"Sorry, Alfred. Little nervous. Do you have any---"

I handed a mint back to him as I parked the car.

"Thanks. Should I take the---"

The small bouquet of flowers was then passed back to my anxious master.

"Thanks, again." He opened the door and was about to shut it when he popped his head back in with his mouth opened to speak.

I replied before he could even ask, "Your hair is fine, sir."

He smiled and left.

^V^

I was stepping out of the elevator into the lobby when he walked in. Even for him, he looked good in tailored midnight blue slacks and blazer, slate blue shirt with the top two buttons undone. I smiled when I noticed the small collection of roses he tried to hide behind his back as he searched the near empty atrium. Before calling his attention, I observed him from a distance.

When we had started dating a little over a year ago his six-one frame bore over two hundred pounds of a perfect muscular system. His hair had been jet-black and he had always appeared in complete control of his facial expressions, whether it had been as the dim-witted playboy or the emotionally plagued Batman.

But that had been a year ago.

He still had the chiseled features but he had trimmed up a bit. Dick had said the day before that they had weighed him and he was just pushing one-eighty. His hair was no longer black, but singed with gray, especially at the temples. Dr. Thompkins had said it was common for victims of major trauma, whether physical or emotional, to suffer from rapid aging. His facial muscles were relaxed, and often folded into a full smile.

The scar above his left eye had faded some, but it was still noticeable if you knew to look for it.

A permanent reminder.

But the man still looked damn fine.

After seeing his smile wane slightly, I mad my way over and greeted him with a smile and a hand on his elbow, "Hey stranger."

His eyes lit up, "Hi," after handing me the flowers, he added, "These are for you. From our garden. Alfred said it would mean more.. Than buying them."

"Did you pick them?" In place of answering he held up his left hand showing a few tiny pricks in them. I couldn't help but laugh, stepping up onto my toes to kiss his cheek, "Thank you, Bruce."

He stiffened slightly and then looked to the doro to hide his blush, "Shall we?"

"Let's," I answered, holding the flowers in my right arm while looping my left with his arm. Passing through the revolving doors, the rush of air wafted his cologne over me, sending my memories reeling.

Myself barely thirty years old; flirting with a young and bashful Bruce Wayne...

My claws tracing the outlines of the Batman's chest muscles...

Waking up in the morning, my face in the crook of his neck...

Sniffing his sweaters after watching the news the morning after the shooting...

"Selina, you all right?"

I looked up to see Bruce holding the car door open for me. I nodded and stepped in. He paused before shutting the door and than got in on the other side. I bit my lip and looked to see Alfred smiling in the mirror.

"Hi, Alfred."

"Ms. Selina, what a pleasant surprise."

As we pulled out onto the avenue, I snuck my hand over to Bruce's knee and gripped that hand that rested there. He looked up and smiled before squeezing back.

Same old charm. Same old Bruce.

The ride to the other side of the city took nearly twenty minutes, most of which I spent chatting Bruce up about what he had been up to lately. Where he would have once brushed off my questions, he readily answered them animatedly. He even leaned over to whisper into my ear, "Dick's teaching me how to drive, but Alfred doesn't know."

I wanted to say that Alfred knew everything but I settled for congratulating him with another kiss on the cheek.

Three minutes early for our reservation, the host ushered us directly to a table that was ready and waiting, including two candlesticks freshly lit. Bruce pulled my chair out for me and gently pushed me in before taking his seat across from me. Instinct urged me to kick off my shoe and trace my toes up and down his shin but I somehow managed to keep my feet planted on the ground.

As the host listed off the house recommendations for the amuse bouche, entrees and paired wines, I looked to Bruce before answering, "Hon?"

"Oh, this is all you," he grinned.

"Be that way,… we'll have the spinach, frisee and pear salad… and… we'll share the seafood tortellini."

"Ah yes, and to drink, might I recommend a nice Sangiovese…"

"No thank you," I set a hand on my stomach and the host nodded with a knowing smile. After ordering raspberry tea for the both of us, the gentleman departed.

Looking to Bruce, I found his gaze was directly staring at my abdomen. As I moved my hand across the table to reach for his, I asked, "Bruce?"

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up and met my eyes before turning them away, scanning the busy restaurant.

"What's wrong?" I asked, finally latching onto his hand.

His breathing had hitched a bit as he finally looked back to me, "Are you... With child?"

I nodded, gently brushing my thumb over his quaking hand, "Yes… four months."

His heart visibly sank deep into his gut, "Oh."

"Oh? Does that upset you?"

He shrugged, then let go of me to play with his napkin, "Well, yeah. Alfred said that to have a baby you have to be married or… be with someone for a long, long time… and I... I like you, Selina, I like you a lot and if you're then you already have someone---."

I cut him off, "Love, Bruce. If you like someone a lot, you love them."

He nodded, "Well, then… I love you."

I love you.

Emotions choked me momentarily, but I replied as soon as I could, "I love you, too, Bruce. You are very special to me."

He shook his head, "But what about the father? You can't love more than one person like that, can you?"

I shook my head, "No, you can love people differently. Like how you love Dick as a son and Barbara as a friend. I love the father of my child with all of my heart, though."

He looked confused, "Then how can you love me, too, Selina, I don't understand."

I rose from my chair next to his and kissed his cheek softly. Before moving my face from his, I whispered in his ear something that would surely earn an ass-reaming from Leslie and Alfred.

"I love only you because… You are the father of my child, Bruce."

^V^