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 modified to make it more awesome-er.
^V^
Staring intently at his crepes, Master Bruce sighed for the third time that morning.
A distinct sigh, one that differed from those that indicated his frustration or exhaustion. It had sounded fairly close to that depicting he was confused but did not want to directly ask for clarification. I had heard the particular sigh many times in the course of the last six months as he steadily progressed over the countless obstacles of his rehabilitation. Where it had been prominent early on in his rehabilitation, the sound hadn't passed through his lips in at least two weeks.
"Is there something amiss, sir?" I inquired.
The sigh came once more before he replied, "No."
Of which meant yes.
I finished drying a glass bowl, returned it to the cupboard and approached him, "Master Bruce, I fear I cannot go on with my day with you in such a dismal mood."
"I'm not dismal. Just… confused."
"About what, sir?"
His icy eyes finally rose to meet my face. After a brief hesitation, he asked, "Who was here last night?"
"Just myself, you and Ms. Kyle."
"I know, but later... Really late."
"Really late, sir, I was slumbering, as were you both."
"No. I was awake."
I felt my pulse quicken slightly, "Sir, perhaps it was a dream---."
He was quick to cut me off, "No, I heard voices… I heard you and I know it was Dick… And I followed them to the study but when I went in, you weren't there."
It was my turn to sigh, "Sir, what doesn't make sense."
Master Bruce pushed his plate away and stood. Before I could repeat my question he began to pace about the marble floor, "And the clock was broken, and it clicked and I could have sworn it moved… and the light coming from the wall…"
"The wall, sir?"
His face curled with frustration, "Not exactly… behind the grandfather clock. I went to reset the time and I saw… There was light coming from behind… What's behind it?"
"I'm not sure I understand what you are saying, sir."
He drew a breath and then turned, "Neither do I, Alfred."
It was once he had left the kitchen that I physically allowed myself to shudder. Master Dick and Master Timothy had arrived at the Cave nearly a quarter after three; both scratched and bruised from ending a late night bank robbery. Although injured, they were both in high spirits, trying to out do each other with horrid "Robin tales of woe" as they called them. Rather than immediately getting to work on logging their activities, they had decided to make their way upstairs for a bite to eat.
Naturally, I had been quick to offer my hand in the kitchen, more so to prevent their unsupervised culinary antics than simple servitude. Given how light-natured they had been in the Cave, I wasn't surprised to see their dispositions further improve upon reaching the ground floor of the Manor, especially with a late night snack on the way. It was as they snacked on cucumber spears whilst I prepared grilled ham and cheese sandwiches that I finally had inquired as to what the occasion had been.
Master Dick had smirked before replying, "Well, you know I left that suit here for you to mend, right?"
I had nodded slightly, "Of which is ready for your next venture."
Master Tim had snickered while patting the bandaged wound on his ally's shoulder, "Good thing?"
"And why is that?"
They both went silent for a moment before laughing in unison.
"I must say, given the hour, young sirs, I am in no mood for a mystery."
Master Dick finally relented, "Well, I figured it would be nice to put on the old black and blue tights… had ourselves quite the evening welcoming Nightwing back."
The youngest had nodded before gently touching his bruised brow, "Certainly did."
As they had feasted, both replayed the events of the evening, relishing in their exuberant crime fighting endeavors from the evening. The laughter, both vocal and in their blue eyes, had been well worth the interruption of my night's sleep.
Their talking must have woken Master Bruce…
I suddenly realized that Master Bruce had been intently staring at me, rather than his uneaten breakfast. After clearing my throat, I offered, "I assure you Master Bruce, there is nothing to worry about… aside from my wrath if that plate isn't cleared."
He nodded in response and after a heavy sigh, he slowly began to eat.
It had been a decision of Master Dick not to inform Master Bruce of his nocturnal past, at least for the time being. It was impossible for him to regain all the knowledge that was required to bear the mantle, let alone the memories of what that life had entailed. True, Master Bruce had a considerable amount to fret over given Ms. Selina's moving in to the Manor as well as the fast approaching birth of their child, but it still pained me to lie to him.
He had dedicated his entire life to his war on crime, was it right to deny him the truth?
Or should he have to live with the knowledge that he had lost everything to the cowl?
Just as I was about to ask what Master Bruce had intended to do for the day, Ms. Selina passed through the open kitchen doorway, wearing calf length sweatpants and a snug tee-shirt given she was in her third trimester. I smiled to see she also sported Master Bruce's loafers.
After I greeted her, with a smile and a cup of lemon zinger tea, she took a seat on the stool beside Master Bruce, kissing his cheek before stealing a piece of his whole grain toast.
Save for the swell of her abdomen, I had witnessed such a scene countless times. Before he had been shot by Pasqualle, he would have remarked, "That was mine."
She would have countered by stealing his coffee or piece of fruit and a purr, "Are you calling me a thief?"
On one occasion, I recalled that Master Bruce had replied, "Well, to be fair…"
She had promptly smashed a wedge of orange, rind and all, into his mouth.
Although the verbal and physical exchange didn't happen that morning, I was pleased to see the scene before me nonetheless.
^V^
Given I was just getting ready to go to bed at half past seven, getting a communication request from the Watchtower had brought a muted curse to my lips. I redid my exhausted ponytail before accepting, somewhat put off to see the tense, square jaw and worried blue eyes on the other end. After all, those blue eyes had the ability to see through walls and lies alike.
"Good morning, Clark."
He nodded, appearing to be alone in the monitor womb, "Barbara… Is this a bad time?"
I should have said yes but instead answered, "Never a bad time… what's up?"
Even though I could see the stylized S over his chest and the red cape dangling over his shoulders, he was very much Clark Kent given the doubt in his expression. He cleared his throat before saying, "Well, I was… just… checking in, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Well, I was just wondering… Listen, I know Dick's still filling in for Bruce, but it's been six months. The last time he was down for that long was after Bane, and that whole mess, I mean, it's not like he was that open about how badly he was injured… I'm just worried is all."
Lying to Clark wasn't one of my favorite past times, even though it had been for Bruce. He was an honest man who wanted nothing more than to do what he could to help, no matter what the situation. Despite all the upheavals they had faced, I knew Clark regarded Bruce as a close friend, outside of being a highly regarded colleague.
Thankfully, Bruce had already been on reserve status with the Justice League prior to the shooting in May so his presence wasn't as noticeably absent. I had managed to pass on attmepts Clark and the others had made to get in touch with Bruce, saying he wasn't available or that he simply didn't want to talk, neither of which were actual lies. Clark had offered to drop by several times over the last six months but the ruse of Bruce being off touring the world had managed to delay a reunion.
Something in the pit of my stomach said that Clark was done being played the fool.
When we ahd originally realized the severity of Bruce's condition upon waking from the coma, it had been a difficult decision to make as to who would know the truth. Regrettably, Dick had decided that my father and Selina were not included. After Selina had found out she was pregnant and my father had assumed I was dating Bruce Wayne, he had done his best to undo his errors by telling them the truth. I had hoped that afterwards, he would be more willing to explain things to at least the higher standing members of the League but he hadn't. Instead of simply telling the truth, he had decided to maintain the guise of Batman, and only recently that Nightwing should pop up every now and then as well.
"Relax, Clark. He's just not ready."
Despite the conviction in my voice, Clark didn't seem to buy it, "Want me to give him a pep talk?"
"Do you want to give him a pep talk?"
He sighed heavily before proceeding, "Barbara, I would like to see him, even if it's just to see how he's doing."
"Clark, you know how he is."
"Enlighten me, Barbara. I know he was shot but that was six months ago. Usually he's back meaner than ever the next night," he paused and stared at me, "How bad was it?"
I didn't answer him.
"Barbara?"
Finally I replied, "You take three bullets like he did and it can be a while for things to heal. Physically, mentally, emotionally."
Something sharpened in Clark's steely blue eyes before he spoke, "Never knew him to be emotional. Not about some random thug shooting him."
"It's more than that, Clark… I'm sorry, but… seeing him right now isn't in anyone's best interest."
I expected him to protest but instead he simply nodded and ended the transmission.
After a moment, I picked up the phone and dialed the Bludhaven Police Department, promptly being greeted by a rushed voice, "Grayson, Bludhaven PD."
"Wasn't that charming," I replied.
I heard the smile in his voice, "Fine. Good morning, citizen. I am Officer Dick. How may I improve your morning through the benefactors of modern police work?"
"Much better, Officer Dick," I laughed. I then allowed the my tone to grow serious, "so clark called again."
"Oh?" Dick replied over the clatter of keys and someone shouting in the background, "What did he want?"
"Same thing he always wants."
"To talk to Bruce…" he sighed. After a long pause, he finally continued, "Okay… I'll give him a ring later… Maybe… maybe it's time, you know?"
It was long over due time but I didn't say so, "I think Bruce is ready… I mean, he's capable of going to work to play the Fop, certainly it's not that far of a reach to explain to him that he has a BFF in Metropolis that's a investigative reporter."
"BFF… wow. Babs, I've never thought of them like that."
"To be fair, Clark did give Bruce a ring, albeit a Kryptonite ring."
Dick laughed at that, "This is true… all right, I'll call Clark, invite him up this week… talk things over with him before letting him talk to Bruce…"
I nodded as I commented, "See, I learned from messing things up with my Dad… no punching this time."
"Now where's the fun in that?"
^V^
After having part of Bruce's breakfast in addition to my own, I had treated myself to an hour of yoga, twenty minutes in the sauna and then a much needed bubble bath. Given that most of the morning I had spent in solitude, I had invited Bruce to bathe with me but he had looked away and quickly made up something he needed to take care of at that moment.
It would have been cute to see him bothered by nudity had it not been heart-wrenchingly sad.
Granted, my presence at the Manor had done wonders for his inexcusable aversion to physical contact, he was still wary of being intimate. Upon learning about the birds and the bees from a very embarrassed Dick Grayson a few months back, I had made certain that Bruce know there was nothing to be ashamed of and that I was willing when he was ready. His first excuse had been that I was pregnant and he didn't want to hurt the baby. After I had assured him that he wouldn't, he had been quick to say he didn't want to do it wrong and make me hate him.
After kissing him, I had promised, "There is nothing you could do to make me hate you, Bruce."
"Are you sure? I mean, I could step on your toe or put gum in your hair?" he had joked nervously.
"You've been spending way too much time with Dick and Tim."
Our first time, many years ago, had been a fast, near violent coupling at a social function. We had been eyeing each other, as Bruce and Selina, for some time although he always had an excuse to bail on me at the last minute. Little did I know at the time that it was to don the cowl and become the man I continued to tease and taunt after putting on my own mask. Needless to say, the compounded frustration of both Selina and Catwoman had me locking Bruce Wayne in an office at the LaFrenz family's penthouse.
Whilst the elite of Gotham were dancing, wining and dining in the name of diabetes fund raising, I was burying my face into Bruce's chest while he pinned me down on a desk.
Not many couples get a second chance at a first time.
Rather than frustration, there was apprehension. In the months leading up to the shooting, Bruce and I had been doing our best to make up for years of lost time and sexual tension. We had even been forced to take our antics to Wayne Manor following a dissatisfied note that had been taped to my penthouse door one morning. It was no wonder, really, that we had ended up pregnant.
Where our first time at that fundraiser had been an expression of lust, the second first time had been nothing but love. Surely, Bruce had loved me before the shooting, but without Batman in his life, he seemed to have that much more dedication to me and he certainly showed it. I had always been second in his eyes to the war on crime and being his top priority was something to behold.
"Like a bicycle," I had panted after he lost his virginity for the second time.
"What?"
"It's like riding a bicycle, even though it has been a while, once you get back on you remember how to ride it."
Bruce had nodded, his face flushed and eyes dilated. After a beat, he had replied, "Felt much better than riding a bicycle. Don't like the seat."
I had swatted him with a pillow.
Since then, we had become more like our old selves than I thought possible. The banter was there, the smirks, everything. There were days, and nights, when I was able to convince myself that nothing had changed. I stole his food and his pillows. He made odd remarks to rile me to the point of hitting him or kissing him. He complained when I wanted to do nothing for an afternoon and I always made it worthwhile.
Nothing had changed… even the nightmares.
They certainly were not as bad as they had once been, but nearly every night I would wake to hear him talking softly and his limbs moving. After squeezing his hand or rubbing his shoulder, he would grow still more times than not. On bad nights, I would wake him, often resulting in him lurching up in bed with a gasp. The horrors that plagued his foggy mind were no doubt the very makings of nightmares.
Fresh from the tub, I dried off, applied cocoa butter to my expanding stomach and then touched up my nails with a fresh coat of clear polish. Although the day had nothing set in stone, I wanted to be ready, physically and mentally. Still in my robe, hair precariously wrapped in a towel on my head, I toured the walk-in closet, selecting four possible outfits. My designer wardrobe had been put on hold as sweat pants, maternity jeans and ill fitting tops took charge. Even my footwear had been assaulted, no longer wearing strappy high heels but sneakers and even flip flops and Ace bandages when my ankles were too swollen.
The pains of pregnancy.
When I had returned from Europe after finding out I was with child, I had told Barbara in a panic that I wouldn't be able to do it alone. After the first trimester, I was certain that if Bruce had ion fact died, I would have managed, given my strong drive for independence. It wasn't until I hit the final stretch of the last three months of my term that I realized just how wrong I had been.
My back ached constantly and only yoga, meditation and Bruce's fingertips kept me sane. Having been physically fit for most of my life, I found it worrisome that I was short of breath after doing the most simple of tasks but Leslie assured me it was normal given the pressure my body was undergoing. Aside from the edema and swelling in my lower legs, I was in a constant battle with intermittent cramps and numbness from the neck down. Again, Bruce was there whenever I needed him, to massage circulation back to its correct flow or to fetch cold or hot packs to sooth away my pain.
Anything I asked, growled or demanded of him, he would comply with a nod and "Yes, dear."
With far too much effort, I slipped on a dress, the silk green bodice fit tightly to my chest and the black, knee length skirt draped loosely from my waist. Pulling my hair free of the collar, I stepped in front of the mirror on th eback of the walk-in closet's door and sighed. While I looked at myself at the fifteenth angle that I could think of, Bruce's reflection joined mine.
Despite the sad look on his face, and the fact that I looked like a red and black whale, I grinned, "You like what you see?"
He smiled for a second before the frown returned to his lips, "Selina, why did you call me 'Bats' last night?"
Thinking on my feet, I replied, "I called you a bat? I don't know, I was half asleep and it was the middle of the night… tell me what else flies around at night, I'll call you that instead."
The look on his face said he was disappointed in my answer.
I turned around in order to wrap my arms around his neck, "Why were you up last night?"
"I thought I heard someone… Alfred thinks I was dreaming."
"Well you certainly do that a lot."
Bruce nodded, sighed and then leaned forward, resting his brow against mine, "I do."
I kissed him quickly before saying, "I was thinking… we should go clothes shopping."
"For who?" he asked, his eyes mere inches from mine.
"For the little one," I answered as I set his hand on my abdomen.
"The little big one," he remarked before pulling his head away from mine in order to look down between us.
"Was that a tone of sarcasm I heard?"
^V^
The flashback hit me like a freight train.
Instead of standing before Selina, my hand covering our unborn child, I was standing at the doorway, looking inwards. Selina was no where to be found as the only occupants in the room were my parents. My father sat at the bed buttoning his shirt while my mother was putting on a pearl necklace.
"Zorro. What a great movie for him to see," my mother said as she turned to face my father.
He smiled, "Was that a tone of sarcasm I heard?" he asked in a deep baritone.
"I just don't see how sword fights can be any good for him to see. Why not something else?"
"I promised him we would see it when it came to the Monarch… And besides, it's his birthday, I want it to be special."
"He was six when you told him about Zorro, Thomas, I doubt he would remember."
My father rose to his feet and gently grasped my mother's hands, pulling her close to him, "Mattie, I've broken too many promises to the boy… I don't plan to break this one."
"No… I'm just suggesting we go to the zoo or something."
"But Zorro won't be here forever and the zoo won't be going anywhere." My father pouted at her, "Please. I know he'll love it. He has such an imagination."
She turned away from him abruptly and headed towards the dresser, "Fine. But when he starts swinging on the chandeliers and carving Z's into the table, you'll have to deal with him."
My father's gaze found me at the door and he grinned, "You wouldn't do that, now would you. Brucie?"
"Bruce? Bruce?!"
My parents had disappeared and Selina hovered over me. It took a moment to realize that I was neither by the closet or the doorway, but rather laying flat on my back in the middle of the bedroom.
"Bruce, can you hear me?" Selina's hand patted my face softy, the worry in her face was frightening.
Slowly, I sat up, swallowing hard before asking, "What happened?"
Selina took to kneeling beside me, "You… We were talking and you just blacked out… Missed hitting the footboard of the bed by about three inches." She started rubbing my back, the concern in her face only spreading.
"I don't remember… I…" As I began to rise to my feet, Selina pushed down on my shoulder, telling me to stay as she stood and strode quickly to the bathroom. I called out to her, "I think I'm fine, Selina."
As she returned with a cold, wet wash cloth, Selina knelt beside me again, pressing the cloth to my brow, "You might think that, but you didn't see it… Just, please, sit for a minute or two."
It had been weeks since my last significant flash back, but I had noticed that they were progressively growing more and more severe. At first, they had been more like daydreams or just a sudden jolt of a random memory. The last few had literally knocked me off of my feet, putting me in what Alfred called a trance-like state. He suggested that as troubling as they were to endure, it was a probable sign that I was slowly remembering my former life.
But from what I had been seeing, I wasn't sure I wanted to remember.
Before Selina could question me any further, the phone rang. We raced each other to rise and retrieve it and I managed to pick it up on the second ring, "Yes."
"Sir, you… I need to speak with Ms. Kyle, sir."
I sighed and handed the phone over to her, "Alfred." Leaving her, I stepped into the bathroom in order to wash up before our outing. After closing the door behind me, I realized how worried Alfred had sounded and I couldn't help but wonder if something was wrong. In the event that something bad had happened, I decided it was worth listening in.
Carefully, I muted the phone in the bathroom and lifted the receiver from the cradle.
Alfred's voice was still filled with concern, "Ms. Kyle, I beg of you, do not let Master Bruce come downstairs."
"Alfred, why not? What's going on?" she replied.
"He… has a visitor. One that shouldn't be here."
She paused, "Who is this visitor?"
"A gentleman from his past…"
"A 'bad' gentleman?"
"No, in fact quite the opposite. A good gentleman… from Metropolis."
^V^
After months of being lied to, I finally had it.
I spent the morning at the Planet, re-tooling piece due for Friday on the Mayor's impending re-election. It was nice to be able to sit at a computer and type uninterrupted, considering the previous two weeks had been nothing but battling floods, train accidents and miscellaneous disasters requiring attention from the man of steel. It made me wonder how Gotham was still standing after six months without being under Bruce's vigilant gaze.
Outside of the rumored to be true news coverage of the Henri Pasqualle shoot out in May, there had been little evidence to support the fact that Batman had been gunned down. After all, his dark, moody presence still lurked the streets of Gotham as did Batgirl and Robin's. In fact the only masked faces missing were that of Nightwing and the Huntress. Given that Huntress had fallen off of everyone's radar back in January, it was safe to say the shootout had not affected her activities.
But the fact that Batman was shot and Nightwing disappeared was a cause for concern.
A grave concern.
"Smallville, how many or's are in repercussion?"
I glanced up my keyboard at the sound of Lois' voice. Looking over my shoulder, I found her hard at work at her desk, "Two or's. R-e-p-e-r-c-u---."
"Got it. Thanks."
She had been working over time at late, covering her regular flood of articles on top of developments with LexCorp and Superman's global activities. Regrettably, with out hectic lifestyles, the only time we were guaranteed to spend with one another was at the Daily Planet and even then it was short chats, scanning copy and speedy lunches at our desks. Again, I had found myself thinking of Bruce, how he had remained single after so many years and how it freed him of marital requirements.
"Clark?"
I glanced up again, this time to find Lois sitting on the edge of my desk, "What?"
"I asked if you wanted something to eat, I was going to run out to get a statement from that guy at LexTech---."
I interrupted her, "Dr. Davis, the nuclear physicist?"
"Yeah, that guy…. Anyway, I was going to hit Garf's on the way back. Pastrami sub?"
I grinned at her, "You read my mind."
Lois leaned over and kissed my cheek, simultaneously taking the wallet out of my pocket, "Back in an hour."
Once she had disappeared into the throng hovering around the elevators, I rose from my desk, donning my suit coat before adjusting my tie. An hour would be more than enough time to run the sole errand on my list. Excusing myself to the break room, I feigned drinking coffee and chit chat until the room cleared, losing fifteen minutes. Alone, I quickly washed the mug and set it in the drying rack before opening the window and taking flight.
Thankfully, clear skies spread throughout the northeast and I made it to Gotham without any hurdles. Carefully, I let myself drop before the front entrance of Wayne Manor, doing my best to quickly scan the house. Bruce was walking down a corridor on the third floor, looking no worse for the wear. Rather than simply fly up to meet him, I opted to go the more polite route and knocked on the front door.
Alfred greeted me, his warm smile fading when he realized who was calling, "Master Kent… I must say, this is quite a surprise."
"I know he's here, Alfred… I just want to talk to him," I nodded before stepping into the atrium.
"Indeed, sir, but I am afraid Master Bruce is… is not accepting visitors of any kind today. Perhaps if you would wish to visit another day---."
I respected Alfred. He had unquestionable devotion to his Family, he was able to mend both physical and emotional wounds with ease and he was capable of turning Batman into a six year-old-boy with a single look.
However, I wasn't about to let my respect for him get in the way of finding out what the hell was going on.
"Alfred. Please, either call him down here or I'm going upstairs. Either way, I'm not leaving until I've spoken with him."
After a moment of consideration, Alfred nodded and excused himself to a room to the left. I listened carefully as he told a woman upstairs not to let Bruce come down. No doubt Alfred knew I would have eavesdropped, so I took that as my invitation to proceed on my own. Navigating the main floor, I reached the main stairwell just as Bruce came into view. I took a closer look at him, confused to see him free of casts or bandages or even so much as a limp. I needed to find a reason behind his face no longer being concealed by the cowl at night.
When I found it, I felt my breath give out.
Alfred's thin fingers latched onto my shoulder, pulling me out of view of the stairs and behind glass encased cabinet. The look on his face was stern and displeased, a look Bruce had certainly seen many times.
"Alfred, how did he---?"
He cut me off mid-sentence, "Now you have seen why we have been so protective of him."
"Is he… I mean… he looks fine but, the bullet," I began again, looking over my shoulder in another attempt to see him.
"I've already contacted Master Dick…"
"What's wrong with him, Alfred?" I demanded quietly.
With a sigh, Alfred relented, "He is completely amnesiatic. It has been a long six months of recovery, of which is far from being compelte… As I was saying, Master Dick will be here later this evening to discuss any questions you may have, in the mean time---."
Bruce's voice sounded, "Alfred, is that you?"
We both stepped back into view, finding Bruce standing in the middle of the wide corridor. He was dressed casually in dark, tailored jeans and a fitted shirt underneath and black vee-neck sweater. He smiled at Alfred and was about to speak before he noticed my presence.
I found my eyes locked onto the small dark scar above his left eye.
Alfred, as always, was quick to save the day, "Master Bruce, this is Mr. Clark Kent… he is an old friend of yours… he decided to pay you a surprise visit."
The Bruce I had known would have nodded slightly, narrowing his eyes at me if I had interrupted something important.
This Bruce took a step forward, a soft smile on his face while he extended a hand towards me, "Relax, Alfred. We don't get too many visitors. Nice to see you, Clark."
There wasn't a single spark of recognition in Bruce's eyes as we shook hands.
Dear, God, Bruce… what had happened to you?
Bruce released my hand and then looked behind him and back towards the stairs, "Unfortunately Clark you caught me at a bad time. Selina and I were on our way out to town. Perhaps you could come back later…" Dick was coming for dinner, wasn't he Alfred?"
"Correct, sir," I heard Alfred say from behind me.
I was about to ask who Selina was when I realized she must have been the woman Alfred had called upstairs. As Bruce went on to say something about going clothes shopping and possibly getting some lunch, I spotted a flash of red and black descending the stairs. I had seen her a number of times before, only she had been wearing skin tight purple leather and claws.
As she approached us, I found myself no long staring at the bullet scar on Bruce's forehead but at Selina's perfect physique save for her rounded abdomen.
Oh, boy.
^V^