Legacy Part II
The Journey
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!
Certain scene inspired by Ugly_Girl's wonderful fic, "Haunted."
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Part II, Chapter VI**********************************************************
Scott was impressed with what he saw so far of the legendary Batcave. He was of course, disappointed that all of Earth's heroes were gone, yet he still retained his optimism. Still curious about this child, he cleared his throat and decided to delicately press the matter.
"What is his name?"
Tim looked up from the Batcomputer, "Hmm?"
"Batman's son."
"'Clark.'"
"Hmm. Alright."
Tim shrugged, figuring secret identities didn't matter anymore, "Superman's real name."
"Oh," Scott smiled and nodded, "How kind." He paused for a minute, then asked, "And Batman's?"
"'Batman,'" Tim smirked, "but his secret identity was 'Bruce.'"
Scott frowned, not really getting it. "So who is Clark's mother?"
"Bored?"
"Um, yes."
"Sorry. Alfred is better suited to help you set up a lab. They should be back soon."
An awkward silence followed, which Scott broke. "So who is Clark's mother? I'm sorry to press, but I cannot imagine Batman in a relationship."
Tim took a breath—this was never an easy topic. He still carried too much guilt.
"Diana." Realizing Mr. Miracle probably didn't know who she was either, he clarified, "Wonder Woman. None of us had any idea at the time that they were involved. Apparently happened right before all hell broke loose here."
"What happened to her?"
"We escaped, she gave birth to Clark, made me leave her before the hunger dogs came. Alfred and I went back, armed, but she was gone."
"'Gone?'"
Tim closed his eyes. The memory still woke up him up at night. Blood smeared the walls of the tunnel—her handprints. Long claw marks dragging her blood through the ground, cutting her blood into the stone floor. A red trail suggested her remains were taken back to Darkseid. Alfred sent him back to the cave and followed the trail alone, but returned hours later to tell Tim he had found no signs of her, just more blood. Tim's sleeping mind toyed with the images until he had nightmares of what her gruesome death must have been. He used to wake up shaking, his cheeks moist on a regular basis. He failed her and by failing her, he failed Bruce.
Pulling himself out of his dismal thoughts, Tim looked at Scott. "Sorry, I'd rather not talk about it."
"Look, I'm sorry about all the questions. I just want to understand, that's all."
Shrugging, he gave Mr. Miracle a small grin, "It's alright. Actually you could answer some questions for me."
"I'll try."
"Why doesn't Darkseid care anymore that we've started rebuilding? People are setting up marketplaces, no one's out at night, but there are definitely people out during the day. He only took so many slaves, then stopped."
Scott nodded as he thought about it. "It's his Anti-Life Equation. He feeds on despair. People suffer, that's enough for him. Also with Kalibak and Desaad gone, a lot of the torturing goes with them."
"Really?"
"Yes, Kalibak would torture and take prisoners to impress his father. Desaad took malicious pleasure in experimenting on Kalibak's victims. Darkseid just needed the despair. He was never particular on where the despair came from."
"I'll never understand bad guys . . ."
"What did happen to Kalibak and Desaad?"
"The Martian Manhunter."
"Oh, well then you have him to thank."
And an Amazon, Tim's thoughts finished Scott's assessment.
The roar of the Batmobile drew Tim and Scott's attention.
"Hey little guy, what's wrong?"
Clark flopped down in the chair opposite Tim. Scott watched, fascinated. The child's chin trembled as he bit his bottom lip.
"Hello, sir."
"Oh, sorry Alfred, this is Scott Free. He was a friend of Superman's and wants to help. Scott, this is Alfred."
Tim waited for the men to shake hands before asking what happened.
"Master Clark and I had an adventure today."
"I killed him," Clark muttered.
"It was an accident, Master Tim."
"He was all bloody because of me."
"He fell on his knife. Master Clark pushed him away from me."
"He's dead and it's my fault."
Tim closed his eyes and tried to shake away the imagery. Her blood was everywhere. He took her baby and left her for dead. She was dead and it was his fault.
"Master Tim?"
Tim's eyes flew open, "Yes Alfred?"
"I have to return and take care of the body. Could you watch over Master Clark?"
He nodded dumbly and forced the imagery from his mind.
"Tim, are you mad?"
"No."
"I didn't mean to kill anyone."
"We know and you didn't kill him."
Clark was staring at his armrest. Tim stared at the boy waiting for him to continue. Once Alfred left and Scott was wandering around the cave, he did.
"Tim, promise you won't ever tell anyone this?"
"I promise. Go ahead."
"I was happy he died."
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Harley threw the spare Batcape around her shoulders. Placing her hands on her hips she asked, "So waddya think?"
"About?" Batman's eyes never left the road.
"Well Puddin' likes my new look! Doncha Puddin'?" Harley squirmed in Kalibak's lap as she turned to face him. The Apokoliptian just drooled some more, but the Lantern's ring was responding.
Batman noticed a green glow to his right and pulled his eyes away to gape at Kalibak's hand. A green beam was emanating straight up from the imbecile's fist.
"Harley, stop moving."
"Huh?"
"No reason. Just . . . stop, ok?"
When Scott was explaining how the Lantern's ring could be used as a power source, he also mentioned it was controlled by the wearer's thoughts. Batman had no doubt that the green "beam" was a direct response to Kalibak's thoughts right now.
Harley was staring at the beam herself.
"Oh Puddin'. . ." She sounded impressed.
Batman suppressed a chuckle. Thankfully it sounded more like a derisive snort.
Finally, when he could speak without laughter betraying him, "How much further?"
"Oh we passed it!"
"'Stop.'" The car abruptly halted. He shook his head. "What." A statement rather than a query.
She was already scrambling out of the car. Fortunately, Kalibak had lost his . . . beam.
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Feeling softness below her instead of the cold stone of the prison floor, Diana jumped up. Despite the dim lighting, she could still see the room. Black sheets covered the bed; the walls were a mottled black and gray. She floated off the ground to look out the small window close to the ceiling. Smoke continued to billow into the sky, obscuring the sun completely. She had no idea how long she had been in there. Bruce was nowhere in sight.
Because Bruce is gone.
Someone was at the door. Her feet touched the floor and she waited, her breaths in slow measured pants. Several Parademons entered first and behind them, Darkseid.
"You've agreed to my terms?" She challenged him immediately.
"Not all. You'll give me an heir. I'll call off the mass killings. But no Superman. No Martian." She didn't realize that he truly didn't care if people died or not. He preferred slaves anyway.
"No deal."
"Either I take what I want or you give it freely. I could care less Princess."
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she reconsidered her options.
"I want my lasso then. I won't kill you, you have my word." Diana knew she couldn't follow that course anymore—too risky without the hope of any help. She wasn't even sure where she would go, if she could go. Amazons never run from battle. Truly alone now, she had to survive for her child.
"You can't kill me anyway." He shrugged and tossed it to her feet. She bit back the urge to remind him of earlier in the day, if this was the same day, in his throne room where she had nearly strangled him.
"I'm coming back tonight. You wear this and keep your mouth shut." A Parademon stepped towards her, with an idiotic grin, and handed her a folded bundle of coarse dark material. Darkseid and his entourage left.
Once the door shut and locked, she sank against a wall and slid to the floor. She could still feel his lips against hers. The memory of his last breath, the feel of it, could still make her shudder. Her arms feeling empty, she tugged her legs to her chest and pressed her head to her knees. Sobs racked her body.
His voice haunted her and she could still feel his intense stare.
Take care of her.
A father's first and last words to his only child forced her hand to her stomach.
"I'm sorry Bruce." She apologized in advance of the betrayal she would commit that night. Tears spent, she pushed herself off the floor and walked to the bed. The dress was more of a burlap sack. The very idea of it against her skin made her nauseated. As she covered her mouth, she had to admit that it might be the pregnancy. Frantic, she searched the room. Darkseid could not learn she was pregnant. Glancing up at the window, she would have breathed a sigh of relief if not for the nausea that kept her lips clamped. Floating up to the window, she pulled the bars far enough apart to rest her chin on the sill.
A moment later, she landed on the floor. Swiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she sank onto the bed. Her legs felt shaky and all she wanted to do was lie down. She swallowed her frustration and stripped, sliding the dress on in her uniform's place. Toeing off her boots, she laid her Wonder Woman costume on top and glanced at her coiled lasso.
"Hera give me courage," she murmured to the heavens. As she tucked her lasso under her pillow, she prayed to the goddesses that her plan would not cause her death. She would be taking a huge risk, but she needed that option. She already lied enough times in the past twenty-four hours—one more that evening would make no difference now.
Diana sank into bed, fighting the sleep that wanted to overtake her body. Succumbing, she allowed her eyes to flutter close.
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"Almost done Alfred. He encrypted everything!"
"Well done, Master Tim." Alfred turned to his young charge, "Master Clark, we will be teaching you how to properly control your strength."
Clark eyed the men suspiciously, "Why?"
Scott spoke up as he pushed out one of Bruce's old training dummies, "It'll be fun. We're playing a game."
"Ok, it's ready."
Tim couldn't resist a smile as he watched Clark look up at the Batcomputer in wide-eyed wonder. A tall woman with raven hair, almost life-size on the huge monitor, was fighting through a group of White Martians.
"That's my mommy . . . right?" he asked in a small voice.
Diana. Amazon warrior. Strength class comparable to Superman's. I have been observing her movements since her arrival from Themyscira two weeks ago . . .
"Daddy?" a child's voice spoke to the computer.
Tim turned to Alfred. "You wanna explain this one? You knew his habits best."
"Of course, sir. Master Clark, that is your father's voice. He felt responsible for . . . ensuring the security of the league. To that end, he often videotaped members of the League, including your mother, during battle as well as training. That is what we are about to view."
Clark's frown deepened, prompting Tim to clarify, "Your father was very . . . careful. Planned a lot. Liked to be prepared. Wanted to know everything about everyone."
"He sounds nosy."
Tim smirked and a corner of Alfred's lip twitched. Scott hadn't stopped grinning since Wonder Woman appeared on the screen. Since his arrival 2 weeks ago, he soon learned about the incident in the market that prompted this lesson. He also learned that Batman kept all his files protected. Alfred could access some, but certainly not all. Young Clark was able to hear and see both of his parents thanks to his father's diligence. But these records were among the last to be decrypted. They were the research part of what Tim and Alfred referred to as Batman's Protocols. It was the men's hope that they could use this footage, and hopefully Batman's commentary to teach young Clark how to properly fight. Given his strength, who better for the lad to observe than his mother, yet with "guidance" from his father.
The narration continued as the film cut to Diana practicing in a training room in the Watch Tower.
. . . discerned her most basic moves are her roundhouse kick and right hook. On top of that, she is skilled in a number of forms of ancient fighting techniques, akin to eastern martial arts. She can block projectiles with her bracelets and also uses, from what I have been able to observe, an unbreakable lasso. Her most formidable power, however, would be her strength. She possesses an agility and tenacity however that allows her a fairly seamless adaptation to any opponent . . .
"Master Clark, we will study these with you, and then you will attempt some of these maneuvers on the practice mannequin."
Eyes never leaving the screen, the boy nodded quickly. "I get to do that?" he asked as Diana flipped through the air and landed behind the simulated opponent, landing a crushing blow to the back of his skull. Tim winced.
"Well maybe not in today's lesson . . ."
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Batman shot another wary glance over his shoulder. He told the two of them to remain in the car, but he doubted Harley would listen. The car was voice activated, his voice only, so he wasn't worried about her taking it for a joy ride. Surprised to see no sign of her, he returned his attention to the passageway before him. His hands ran over the wall with a light touch.
"Hunger Dogs," he muttered. With the night vision it was difficult to distinguish any blood from the various stains on the sewer walls.
"Carl's gettin' it now."
"Better. D's gonna have our heads when he finds out that his little retard is wanderin' around Gotham with no chaperone."
"Chaperone? Thought we was s'posed to kill 'im?"
Batman heard a smack, then "Shut up!"
"Hey guys, got the camera from park. You were right. The Bat got 'im first."
"Then we'll just go get the Bat."
Batman grinned. His cue. If only all his fights were so theatrical. He threw a batarang from his crouch in the shadowy tunnel above and effectively pinned Carl's arm to the wall. The others distracted, he leapt up and landed behind another one. A quick blow to the head left this man unconscious.
The explosion from the batarang on the wall drew their leader's eyes from Batman to Carl. The exploding batarang took out both the camera and Carl's right arm.
"Holy shit! You blew his arm off!"
Batman smirked. "That's the least of your concerns right now."
Backing away and stuttering, he begged, "What did we ever do to you? We let you do your thing, while we do ours . . ."
"Only because I never had this opportunity before."
"What? We're all people here . . . there's few enough of us left as is." He shot a nervous glance to his friend who was rolling around, clutching what was left of his arm.
"You betrayed all of us by assisting Darkseid. You helped pave the way for his invasion."
"That was like thirty years ago when I done that! Now I just wanna survive, like you!"
Batman never noticed that the man had backed himself up against a table and was holding a small round device in his hands. The man depressed a button, starting a series of flashing lights. But he never got to throw it because a ratty old boot spiraled from overhead, knocking him in the skull.
"Whuh," he muttered as he shook his head. The device fell to the ground, rolling into a pile of similar round objects.
"Heya Junyah! I saved ya!" Batman leapt the two-story distance to the tunnel opening and grabbed Harley's arm.
"Let's go!" He barely got his words out when an explosion rocked the room behind him. Flames chased them, following and feeding on the oxygen of the tunnels.
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