Legacy Part I
"The End"
Written by Artemis, Story idea by WonderWoman
Summary: The death of the Justice League by Darkseid leaves a world in ruins. This summary sucks intentionally. ;) Batman/Wonder Woman, ANGST!!!!, romance, action/adventure.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, especially all these DC characters. So nyah-nyah!
A/N: I'm juggling three storylines here, which will all come together eventually. Please bear with me.
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Part I, Chapter V**********************************************************
Alfred was pleased with the selection he traded for today. He loaded the last of his purchases into the Batmobile and was stepping around to Master Clark's side when he heard a splash behind him. Someone had just stepped through a puddle in the alley.
"Nice ride you got there."
Straightening his jacket, Alfred slowly turned.
"Alfred? Aren't we going?"
"So that's your brat?" The man was scarred across half his face. The matching ribbons of shiny flesh on his forearms, similar to Master Tim's, suggested that this man was an escaped slave as well.
"I will suggest you refrain from insulting the boy."
"Aw, a Brit," he stepped a little closer, knife still outstretched, "Where were you guys when that demon landed in the US?"
"Considering I have called Gotham City home for over forty years, I know where I was. And yourself, sir?"
"Leave him alone!"
"Master Clark, back in the car!"
"Gotta be kiddin' me. Brat's got a butler while the rest of us pick food off the streets?"
Alfred saw his opportunity and grabbed the inside of the man's wrist, pushing it away from his body. But Alfred was no match in strength and the knifepoint was getting closer to his ribs.
"NO!"
He looked down and saw Master Clark grabbing the man's hand as the knife fell to the pavement. The skin was turning a mottled red and white as the would-be mugger screamed. Alfred pressed against the car and watched in amazement as the man fell to his knees, the child still squeezing even as tears ran down his face.
"Master Clark."
The boy's damp eyes remained on the thug.
"Master Clark," Alfred prompted gently, "Let him go."
Two dilated pupils with a rim of blue fixated on the old man. "He wanted to kill you."
"I'm quite alright now, Master Clark. You may let him go."
Clark looked up at Alfred, his expression dubious, "He had a knife."
"And now he doesn't," Alfred's tone remained gentle, as he nodded to the discarded weapon.
The small hand released the larger one. The man instantly clutched his injured hand to his chest. The child dropped his head and turned to walk back to his side of the car.
"Pick up your feet, Master Clark. Master Tim is—"
"Alfred!" Clark whirled around and threw the man against the wall. Alfred now leaned against the car, holding his side. Clark grabbed his surrogate father and helped him to the ground.
"I'm fine. He only scratched me." Alfred reassured his young charge.
Clark and Alfred both turned to the attacker, now quiet. Blood was pooling under the still body. Pushing himself up with one hand, Alfred stated calmly, "Get in the car, Master Clark."
"Did I --"
"Now, please."
Once he heard the door shut, Alfred rolled the body. The man's hand was still gripping the knife, even as it sat plunged in his chest. He stood up and sighed. This was definitely an accident, but how does one explain that to a nine-year-old boy? Especially in a world without police, laws, or courts to declare he was a minor and it was self-defense?
Alfred decided to take the boy home and he would return with a shovel and see that this man has at the very least a proper burial.
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"And where are you going?"
"Where else?" Batman glanced over his shoulder briefly then got into the Batmobile. Tim staggered after him, pressing his hands onto the glossy surface of the car.
"Don't smudge it."
"Ha ha. You're not going anywhere."
Batman stuck his head out of the window and sighed.
And waited—three . . . two . . .one.
"You are not leaving us with," Tim nodded over his shoulder, "Lucy and Desi."
"Huh?"
"Nevermind," the shorter man leaned across the hood, "Either you take them with you, or stay here and baby-sit."
"I don't baby-sit," he growled.
"You brought them here."
Batman looked at Harley and Kalibak. She had taken a shower and fortunately no longer looked or smelled like a street urchin. In clean clothes, she looked like a normal fifty-year-old woman—that is, until she spoke. Kalibak was still in his rusty armor and oversized helmet, but his face was clean. Drool still flowed from his toothless grin however. He sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as he thought. He knew Tim wouldn't let her stay if he wasn't here. Finally, he called out, "Harley."
"Junyah!" Harley was leaning on the window in no time.
"Don't smudge it."
She giggled and hopped back.
"Have you run across any Intergang activity here?"
"Actually, yeah . . . " Harley stared off, her face contorting into anger, "Those bastahds! Always in theh clean suits. Think theh so smaht!"
"Can you show me where?"
Harley jumped up and down, clapping enthusiastically. "Can I be Batgirl?"
"No," Batman and Tim answered simultaneously.
"Aw, come on! Puddin' can be Robin!"
"NO!"
Batman glanced at Tim's reddening face and knew he was thinking of Jason Todd. Batman was more than familiar with the Bat clan of his father's era.
"Harley, either get in now, or I'm leaving without you."
She stepped back and bellowed, "PUDDIN'!" Kalibak came running. Batman raised an eyebrow in amusement and glanced at Tim. He wasn't laughing.
Kalibak dove into the car and Harley hopped onto his lap.
"Well? We goin'?"
Batman cleared his throat.
"What?"
"Your door. Shut it."
"Right Junyah!"
At last he could leave for patrol. After he gave the voice commands to the car, he reflected on what just happened.
Tonight he experienced an epiphany.
He admitted a deep dark secret to himself.
He, Batman, wanted a sidekick.
He was surprised himself when he realized he didn't mind having company. After twenty-five years of seeing the cases with the Bat clan's costumes displayed, he supposed that at some point he became wistful for his own sidekick. However, he would never admit that to Tim. Tim who had memories of a better world, Tim who had friends growing up, Tim who got to go to school, Tim who was like a son to his father.
Tim was his luckier big brother. And he could never tell him so. To admit jealousy for Tim's life would be an insult to the scars he wore. He would also be suggesting some ingratitude towards the job Tim and Alfred, even Scott, did in raising him. He could never hurt any of them like that. To tell them how much he hated his life and wished some nights he had never been born . . . no, he could never tell them that.
"Can I weah a cape?"
"Glove compartment."
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"Bruce?" Diana was still holding his head when he abruptly broke off their kiss. "Bruce, what's wrong?"
He shook his head, "Just tired. Pain, left side . . ."
She lowered his head to the ground and ran her hands lightly across the left side of his torso. As soon as she reached the boundary of his ribs he gasped.
"Spleen," she said simply.
He nodded. "I'm bleeding internally."
Settling herself on the ground, she patted her lap and gave him a sad smile. He shot her a look before resting his head there. "This is bad for my image."
"I won't tell anyone." She couldn't help a small grin.
Her fingers stroked his hair as he stared out at nothing, his face pensive in thought.
"What took us so long?"
"Well, you're a stubborn brooding man . . ."
"And you're a stubborn Princess . . ."
"I don't know . . . if you knew about . . . this, would you have allowed that night to happen any sooner?"
"Yes." He spoke without any hesitation.
She startled at his definitive response. He could feel her tense and asked in return, "Would you?"
How could she answer that knowing what words were still unsaid? Stroking his hair, she had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing. She had to tell him—the Fates granted her a second chance and she was wasting it.
She swallowed.
"Bruce?"
"I love you too Diana."
She closed her eyes to try to stop the tears as her fingers pressed against her lips. Why this man? Why now?
"I love you Bruce, but that wasn't what I was going to tell you."
He shifted and stared directly at her. She gazed down and stroked the side of his face. Smiling despite her tears, she spoke the next words reverently.
"I'm pregnant."
Bruce's expression was frozen. In the silence she could hear her own heart pounding as she waited for his response. His eyes eventually left her face as he glared at the wall instead.
"No. Not here. Not now. It was one night Diana. One night."
"Well of course I want better circumstances—"
"'Circumstances?'" He pushed himself off of her lap and glared at her, "I don't want any child, let alone mine, to be raised without parents."
When words failed her, he pushed on. "Yes, Diana, I'm dying. You're stuck in a prison. What makes you think he'll keep you alive much longer?"
Her anger matching his own now, she yelled at him, "Because I will do everything in my power to make sure this child is born and is free."
He frowned, surprised by something in her answer, so she continued. "I came here to kill him, but I failed. So now, I will do whatever," the words were choking her, "whatever I have to until this baby is born. I do not need a reminder about our circumstances."
His words were slow and measured as he asked, "Diana. What are you planning?"
She focused on some distant point and stated quietly, "I thought you were dead. We lost. Everyone was dead or gone. I failed when I didn't kill him . . . "
"Diana."
She swallowed and closed her eyes before looking directly into his.
"I offered myself in exchange for Kal, J'onn, and anyone still alive on Earth."
"'Offered?'" he repeated, his emotions not allowing him to understand.
"He needs an heir. A new son."
"Not . . . no . . . you can't give him our child," he shook his head, misunderstanding.
"I won't. I'll be gone by then. But as long as I carry this baby, our child, he will assume it's his and keep me alive. J'onn and Kal will be back—"
"Diana—you can't do that to yourself and besides, you don't honestly believe . . ."
She bit her lip and shrugged, "I just need to believe that for now."
Closing his eyes briefly, he nodded and agreed numbly, "And they'll be back and the three of you will defeat Darkseid."
She gave a small grateful smile and continued the fantasy, "And our child will be safe."
She slid an arm around him and lowered her head to kiss his forehead. His skin was cold.
"Diana?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Dying. For the bomb not going off as planned. For making you worried. For all the times I've been an arrogant stubborn ass. For not loving you sooner. But most of all, for dying. I don't want you to be alone."
"I won't be."
He shifted his body and turned so his head faced her. Pressing his lips to her abdomen, he spoke quietly to his unborn child, "Take care of her."
She chuckled and caressed his cheek. His skin was so cool. He was now staring up at her. Easing him back on the ground, she lay next to him and they wrapped their arms around each other. She gazed into his eyes as he stared back intently.
"I'm tired."
"Go to sleep. I'll be here when you awaken."
He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, but soon opened them again.
She smiled.
Bruce kissed her. Diana gave herself over to his lips' caress and pressed back as well. She only stopped once his final agonal breath crossed her lips. She kissed him softly one last time and then pulled him tightly to her. Only then did she finally allow the sobbing of her heart to break free. Her shoulders shook as she clutched his limp body. Finally spent, she rolled him onto his back and curled up alongside him. Draping an arm protectively across his chest, she repeated her promise.
"I'll be here when you awaken."
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End Part I