Warning: Strong Language, Suggestive Material . . .
"Everyone is upstairs."
Dick caught her arm as she started to leave the pool room. It wasn't that she wasn't covered. She was . . . The robes that were left here covered everything to mid-calf. But she was naked underneath and he was nearly.
"Who is everyone?" Elle hesitated, allowed him his hold on her.
He didn't answer her. Her question wasn't what was important anymore.
This was no longer about the argument. It was about them. They couldn't stand to have this . . . separation between them. It didn't even have to be physical apparently. In fact, the anger was worse than the miles that had been between them, Gotham and Chicago.
Dick's hand stroked her arm of its own volition. God, even the terrycloth was too much.
"I need you," he whispered.
He was standing in the room, oxygen all around him now and it was as if he were still drowning. He couldn't breathe without her. His hand slid down to her wrist, to skin, and pushed the heavy material out of the way, sliding his hand back up her arm. Her own breath caught in her throat.
Oh yeah, she was feeling the same thing as he was. He didn't even have to reach out to know. Her physical reaction to him was all he needed to understand the need that was growing inside her. It mirrored his own. His desperation was hers. He stepped closer, his chest to her back, and nuzzled her hair out of his way. His lips found that sensitive place behind her ear that only he knew about. She might be upset, but it wasn't enough to prevent her head from tilting to the side to give him better access. She could stop him with a simple word, but she remained silent . . . her consent given by her actions.
She needed this as much as he did.
Dick's hand brushed over the cloth and along her shoulders. He pushed the material down over her shoulders, his mouth tracing a path along all that silky skin. He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent. God! She smelled so good . . .
As the terrycloth fell down to her waist, his hands slid up to cover her breasts and her own breathing deepened. Elle turned in his arms and threw her arms around his neck. Her mouth sought and found his and the room fell away. The wall of glass never entered their minds as all the emotions of the day evaporated, leaving behind only one . . . The only one that mattered. And he felt it then: her love for him! It washed over him like a wave of warm water and he reveled in it, drowned in it willingly. Oxygen was optional at this moment; he thought he could live on this feeling alone.
He answered her in kind . . . Her unspoken plea. Nothing else was important except this. Their love. It was like a physical presence that wrapped itself around them, shielding them from the rest of the world, from the dangers and their enemies, from their families and friends, from their problems at the moment and from the mistakes of their pasts.
Everything else ceased to exist at that point. All that remained was Arabella and Richard; Elle and Dick . . . and the love that bound them together at that place where their souls linked and the one became the other.
She tugged her robe closed and tied it as Dick continued toweling her hair dry again. He stood behind her clothed only in a towel. She was tempted to yank it off and push him back into the pool. They were a long way off to working everything out between them still, but it was a start. How many more secrets could the man possibly have? She knew he was Nightwing, that he had been engaged twice; hell, she had even met both of his exes! Was this the end of it?
She remembered his slip of the tongue earlier. The misunderstanding that Kori had mentioned and Dick's admission that there was something very bad in his past that he didn't want talk about. Elle had the feeling that the two events were one and the same. But she had intimated that she would give him his space and she would. For now . . .
But they would be talking about this again sometime. Whatever dark place dwelt still in his mind, Elle would eventually expose it to the light and help him move past it. But later.
Elle tossed him his robe and then picked up their clothes. Hers were likely too damaged to salvage. Dick's, however, weren't so easily ruined. Franklin would sort it out for her, or she would determine for herself tomorrow. They picked up their shoes and Dick held the door open for her.
"Ready to turn in?" he asked. "I think it is almost midnight."
Elle stared at him. "Already?"
He smirked at her. "Did you take a nap down there?"
Elle laughed. "Maybe. I'm more hungry than tired at the moment despite everything that's happened today."
"Oh, just so you know, Bruce, Damian, and Tim arrived a few hours ago," he told her as they made their way to the kitchen.
She was surprised. "Everyone came up?"
A blush stole up her neck and face. Instead of greeting her guests, unexpected though they were, Elle had spent the evening pouting in the pool. How was she supposed to face them in the morning?
"Not to worry," Dick gave her waist a squeeze encouragingly. "Franklin saw to it everyone was fed and found a bed."
"Oh, Dick," she moaned. "I feel horrible! You should have told me sooner."
"I couldn't tell you anything until you climbed out of the water," he reminded her. "And by then we had other things to talk about."
"Nonna would be so ashamed of me," Elle lamented.
"You had reason to be upset. They understand that. Everyone is just happy that you're okay. We were worried when you weren't on board the jet." Dick told her. He snorted with laughter. "You should have seen Jason's face!"
"Does it look as pretty as yours?" Elle asked sarcastically as she traced a bruise along Dick's jawline.
"Twice as," he smirked. "Don't worry. It was just a little tussle. We've been into it worse than that."
"Hm," she hummed, disbelieving.
She had felt the surge of anger at one point that hadn't been all hers. Unfortunately, Elle had been all caught up in her own upset and attempting to come up with an offer for Aiden that would work to all of their advantages to notice what might have been happening to Dick.
They pushed their way into the kitchen and gaped at the mess on the counter.
"Damian, we want to slice the ham, not butcher it," Tim complained.
The youngest Wayne was currently hacking slices off of the roasted ham in chunks with a knife far too big for him. "What does it matter when it all ends up in the same place anyway?"
"It falls out of the sandwich like that," Tim snatched the knife.
"Hey! Give that back or I'll skewer you," Damian threatened, with a carving fork in his hand.
"Whoa!" Elle yelped, moving quickly. She nipped this argument in the bud. "No threatening people's lives with kitchen utensils! Franklin and Henry would have your hide!"
Damian looked over. "Who's Henry?"
"The chef that I bring in when I am in residence," she told him as she plucked the carving fork out of Damian grip.
"I bet I could take him," he muttered but he let it go without a fight.
She tossed it down on the counter and opened her arms with a smile.
"Now, are you going to stand there with that frown on your face or are you going to give me a proper greeting?" she demanded.
Although Damian's ears turned a little red, he complied easily enough, stepping into her hug without complaint.
"Are you okay? Do I need to take Grayson outside and teach him some manners for you?" Damian offered. Elle might have laughed but the miniature assassin looked a little too serious.
"We're fine now, thank you anyway," she assured him. She shot a glance at Dick and saw him biting his jaw in order to stay silent. Probably a good idea with Damian, she decided. The boy hadn't learned how to laugh outright, let alone at himself.
Damian peered around her arm at his eldest brother. "She let you off easy, Grayson. I would have let you drown."
Tim face startled. "Damian! Shut it!"
The couple stared at Tim and watched the older teen blush next, even brighter than his little brother had, in fact. Dick looked suspicious.
"Did you two go downstairs to the pool?" he asked slowly.
Tim's eyes widened slightly. "Ah, well, see . . . Damian thought . . . Ah hell! I only went in to try and stop him. You know how the little cretin is about taking suggestions!"
"I was tired of waiting on you two," Damian admitted defiantly. He shot his brother a look that promised retribution over his 'cretin' comment but stayed on subject. "How were we to know you two would be . . ." he cleared his throat. "You two don't do that in our pool, do you?"
"Oh my God!" Elle's hands flew up to her face. "Damian!"
Dick rounded on her, his cheeks stained a darker pink that before. "What did I tell you about glass walls?" He looked at Tim. "How bad was it?"
"Not as bad as all that," the older boy tried to assure them. "I mean, we kind of figured what was up when we saw that big pile of clothes on the floor. The water obscured . . . ah, most of it," he added quickly, waving his hands in the air for emphasis. "We didn't stop to stare or anything! I grabbed Damian and hauled him out of there straight away! I swear!"
Elle leaned her elbows on the counter with her face still buried in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking. Damian and Tim stared at her in horror, thinking they had embarrassed her to the point of tears. Thankfully, they realized that the sounds she was making were those of laughter.
She finally straightened, still red-faced, and wiped her eyes. Damian frowned, confused. Was she crying or laughing? He couldn't always tell . . .
"That's it," she giggled. "I'm having Franklin arrange to have that glass frosted."
Dick snorted. "You might have him place a lock on the door as well."
She glanced at her guests and nodded with mild annoyance. "Yes, I'm beginning to see your point. That might just be a good idea, after all."
Damian scoffed. "It was not that big of deal. I was educated in the workings of the reproductive system when I was being taught anatomy."
Elle gaped at him surprised. "But you're eleven! Since when does anyone take anatomy and physiology that young?" She preferred to ignore the reproductive part of his comment.
The boy shrugged. "Mother suggested I take it in order to understand which places were best to target when battling the enemy."
Tim snorted. "He means the best places to strike in order to kill somebody."
Damian scowled. "Obviously! *tt* If they get up, you may be forced to fight them again! It is always prudent to destroy them quickly the first time and this will prevent them from further inconveniencing you."
"Damian," Dick admonished him.
"Better them than us," Damian countered
"We do not kill our enemies." Dick reminded him.
He rolled his eyes at them, sighing heavily. "I know that but I still think showing mercy to those who would just as soon slay you is foolish. Mother and Grandfather would agree with me."
"Your mother and your grandfather are not the best role models," Dick told him firmly. "You are living with your father now, and we do things differently."
"I know that," Damian insisted. "How did this get to be about me? You were the idiot that didn't tell Elle that you were engaged to that alien!"
Tim elbowed the boy. "Shut up! They've started speaking to each other again."
"Keep your elbows to yourself, Drake, or I will . . ." Damian started.
"Do nothing," came a voice from the doorway.
The four turned as one to find Bruce standing just inside the kitchen door. "I apologize for my children, Elle. They will be cleaning this mess up and heading back to bed now."
"But we're hungry," Damian complained.
Elle smiled. It felt a little forced. This was the first blatant admission by Damian that he had been raised by assassins to kill people and it was a little much to take in. She reminded herself that he was still just a boy, and it took time to undo ten and a half years of wrongheaded training.
"Dick and I missed dinner. We stopped in to grab something to eat, too," she said. "I can whip us up something no time at all if you give me a moment." She held her hand out to Tim and he gingerly placed the carving knife into it. "Tim, I think there is some turkey in the fridge as well, if you would get it out? Is sandwiches alright with everyone?"
Bruce shook his head. "Nothing for me. I'm not hungry. I came down to look for wayward children."
Tim scowled as he slammed the refrigerator door shut with his hip. His hands were full with the turkey. "Hey! I'm a legal adult now. I can be drafted and vote . . ."
"I'm hungry, father," Damian interrupted him before turning to Elle. "I prefer turkey to swine."
"Turkey it is, then," she smiled at him. Bruce took the starch out of everyone's sails, thank goodness. She was beginning to think she was going to have to take the boys to task herself. "Are you sure you don't want something? Turkey, perhaps? Or would you prefer swine?"
"Swine for me," Tim said quickly. "I'm hungry, too. Alfred suggested I might be on a growth spurt." He grinned at Dick. The two of them were of a height now. If Tim grew again, he would be taller than his eldest brother.
"You'll always be 'shrimp' to me, kid," Dick shrugged. "Here, I'll help," he offered, and pushed Tim and Damian out from behind the counter. The further away they were from sharp instruments, the less blood they would have to clean up later.
Elle tugged her robe closely around her and tightened the belt before setting to work. This was her home and her kitchen, and although Dick's family would soon be her family, right now they were her guests. As Bruce pushed the two boys in the direction of the kitchen table, Elle and Dick quickly made up sandwiches and poured glasses of milk.
In a few minutes, they were gathered around the table, eating.
"You make a mean sandwich, Elle," Tim complimented after a drink of milk. "Thank you."
Dick frowned at his brother. "I helped, you know."
She patted his hand and leaned into him to kiss his cheek. "That's true, you did," she crooned. "Everyone would still be waiting for their sandwiches without you."
Dick preened a little. He grinned at Tim. "You're welcome."
"Are you sure you don't want something, Bruce?" Elle asked. "I saw that we have a loaf of banana nut bread, if you're in the mood for something a little sweet."
"I am fine." Bruce reassured her. He had taken a glass of milk, however. "Has Dick told you what we found yet?"
Dick shook his head. "We had lot of other things to talk about."
Damian snorted in his milk and choked. Dick kicked him under the table and sent him a look of warning. Bruce noticed but wisely chose to remain on topic.
"Tim and Damien and I searched the apartment that the shooter was using to attack your helicopter today," Bruce began.
Elle straightened. "You know who it was? You're sure?" She looked at Dick. "It wasn't that other man . . . Nameless? It couldn't be him, could it?"
Dick shook his head and put an arm around her shoulders. "It wasn't Nameless."
Elle turned back to Bruce. "Who?"
"He's called Deadshot," Bruce told her. "His name is Floyd Lawton and he's an assassin."
If they were expecting her to collapse, they were to be disappointed. Elle narrowed her eyes as she committed the information to memory. This was just one less step her brother would need to go through to find the person responsible for putting out a contract on her and Dick. Aiden was ruthless and he was used to bribing, bending, and breaking rules to get what he wanted, and what he wanted more than anything was half of their father's companies. She was depending on that little personality trait to get her what she wanted . . . Peace of mind.
Elle had pulled the strings herself and gone through numerous avenues to be able to offer this to him. She would keep half and abide by her father's wishes but on her own terms, such as promoting Michael Grassi, her CFO, to CEO in her stead. She would remain the owner of the companies and he would run them almost completely independent of her except on extremely important items that required her personal attention. And the best part: she would be free to live her life as she and Dick saw fit.
In her opinion, it was a bargain.
"We need to take this seriously, Elle," Dick added. "We've had dealings with Deadshot. He doesn't miss."
Elle pursed her lips. "He did today."
"Actually, he didn't," another voice came from the doorway. "He wasn't aiming for you." Jason walked in and pulled the extra chair around backwards and straddled it. "He was aiming for the pilot. His intentions were to down the helicopter with everyone, but especially you, on board. He very nearly succeeded."
Frowning at him, Elle snapped. "I didn't realize that you were still here."
Jason leaned forward and snagged a grape from the bowl of fruit sitting on the table. "You're not still mad over today, are you?" he asked calmly, popping the small fruit into his mouth.
"You will never do that again," she told him angrily, ignoring the stares around the table.
He shrugged. "I won't unless I need to . . . again," he added with a smile.
Elle stood up, her chair making high-pitched scraping sounds on the floor tile. Dick stood up and rested a hand on her arm.
"He wasn't doing it to annoy you, Elle. I asked him to protect you," Dick reminded her quickly. "And he can't do that properly if we only give him partial information."
Elle stared at him, shaking her head. "Ask him to stop protecting me then and it won't be an issue."
"I can't do that and you know it. Sweetheart, it's not that big of deal. Bruce already knows a lot of it. He's cool with it. He doesn't judge you and neither will anyone else." Dick told her.
He wanted to tell his family her secrets while she just wanted to forget about them. Her life had seemed so much less complicated just six months ago.
"Does this have anything to do with that 'bond' that your bodyguards were talking about . . ." Jason glanced at his watch, "yesterday?"
Tim frowned at him. "I heard of that term before," he said. He turned eyes on the couple. "Is someone going to explain it to us?"
"Is there a choice?" Elle muttered as she sat down heavily. The day was never going to end.
"It would make protecting Dick easier as well," Bruce murmured.
Elle winced. As angry as she had been with him today, Elle never wanted anything bad to happen to Dick. She loved him, even as he drove her bonkers by keeping secrets. She had her own secrets, however, and, truthfully, she didn't even begrudge him his but for not telling her he had almost been married twice.
But Bruce had a point. Their survival depended upon the safety of the other. She sighed and looked at her bondmate. He must have felt her resignation.
"Elle is of Atlantian descent," Dick began.
Jason and Tim frowned as they exchanged glances. That wasn't what they had been expecting.
"What?" Jay stared. "You mean Elle has gills and can like breathe underwater?"
Elle lifted her hair and showed them her smooth neck. "No gills," she said and held up her hand, wiggling her fingers. "No webbed fingers unless they get wet."
Jason goggled. "Wait! Are you serious? If your hands get wet they become webbed?"
Elle blushed and leaned back in her chair.
Jason suddenly jumped up. "Hold up! I've got to see this," he exclaimed and dashed into the kitchen to rummage in the cabinets. Grabbing a bowl, he started filling it with water.
Dick scowled. "Forget it, Jason. She's not a sideshow attraction here for your amusement!"
Jason ignored him and stomped back, sloshing water out of the bowl with every step. He thumped the bowl down onto the table in front of Elle.
"If you're going to make wild claims like that, you're going to have to prove it, princess," he declared.
Dick rose to his feet angrily but Elle laid a hand on his arm.
"It's okay," she told him, "really. We're going to be family, right? Family deserves to know the truth. Papa kept things from me. I'm not going to start off with a bunch of secrets with my new family."
Dick slowly sat back down as Elle dipped her hands in the water. After just a few seconds, she drew them out, still dripping, and held them up with her fingers spread. The webbing rose up only to her first knuckle but it was noticeable even from across the table.
Jason grabbed her hand with a look of disbelief. His fingers gently prodded the delicate webbing. "I thought you two were pulling one over on us to change the subject. You really have webbed hands!" He started laughing. "That's a new one on me."
Tim moved around the table as well and leaned in between Elle and Dick as Damian shoved Jason out of his way in his eagerness to see.
"May I," Tim asked softly before examining her hands more closely. He, too, touched the thin skin between each finger. "And this disappears when your hands are dry?"
"Yes," she told them. "My mother had it as does my grandmother. I thought it was a just an odd birth defect that ran in my family. No one ever commented on it. Nonna's webbing is more pronounced and doesn't go away when her hands dry. Even still, hers doesn't appear to be that noticeable. You've all met her and yet no one remarked on it."
Tim looked surprised. "I didn't notice it," he admitted. "And here I pride myself on being observant." He shook his head ruefully.
Damian looked at Elle's hand but didn't touch her. She looked at him worriedly, wondering if this would change the boy's feelings about her.
"Damian?" she asked softly.
"Does it hurt?" he blurted out suddenly. "When it comes and goes, I mean?"
She shrugged. "No, it doesn't hurt."
Even as they watched the webbing began to retract as Elle's hands dried in the air.
"Whoa," Jason snorted with amusement. "That makes for a neat parlor trick. Does it make you faster in the water?"
Dick picked up the bowl of water and dumped it in the sink. "Faster than you'll ever be," he smirked.
"Seriously?" Jason blinked, still smiling over the fact that his new sister-in-law was a mermaid.
"She has the trophies upstairs to prove it," Dick sat down beside her and took Elle's hand in his own. "In fact, I timed her once. She swims at least as fast as an Olympic runner can run."
Elle smiled impishly. "Of course, that was in a pool. In open water, I can swim faster still."
Tim nodded. "That explains how you were able to get to Damian so quickly when he hit his head on the diving board."
Bruce had been quietly observing the demonstration. It was the first time he'd witnessed some of what Dick and Elle's claims were. He kept his opinions to himself. He already knew of all this. He was more interested in the bond. There were new aspects of it they had yet to discuss.
"What else can you do?" Tim asked. "Without gills you wouldn't be able to breathe underwater, would you?"
Dick and Elle exchanged another glance. "Actually," Elle told them, "I can. I breathe through my skin like an amphibian while underwater. Excess oxygen can be stored in my lungs making it possible for me to breathe for someone else who is underwater."
That caught Bruce's attention. He hadn't known this about her. "And you know this how?" he asked. "Have you tested it yet?"
Dick blushed slightly and nodded. "We have. It works."
"How deep can you dive?" Damian spoke up finally. "You pulled me out of the pool and it was really deep."
"I-I don't know for sure," Elle admitted. "I've gone diving with my father and brother a few times in Lake Michigan and managed to go about a hundred and fifty feet with no problem but I never really pushed the envelope. Of course that was back when I didn't know I was anything more than a regular human."
Jason looked intrigued by that. "You didn't know? You have webbing between your fingers when you get wet and you can breathe through your skin. How could you not know you were something more than human?"
"My parents wanted me to have a normal childhood. They had decided that they wouldn't tell me of my heritage until I was an adult. I was only told the truth recently, after Dick and I started dating in fact." Elle said defensively. "I didn't know I could breathe underwater. I just thought I could hold my breath for a really long time. I learned in science class that the longest someone could hold their breath without harming themselves was near five minutes. So I never went longer than five minutes before resurfacing." Elle grinned. "I've learned that water strengthens me and I'm stronger wet than I am dry. Just an F.Y.I"
"And you are allergic to chlorine," Damian added. He looked at Jason. "You should know that."
Jason frowned. "What? You break out in hives or something?"
Elle sighed. "Something like that. The pools here are salt water filtered. As a matter of fact, the whole house is done up with a specialized filtration system that Hamilton Industries designed. No chlorine here."
"No cleaning solutions that contain chlorine bleach either," Dick mentioned. "The smell of chlorine can cause her breathing problems."
"Damn," Jason blurted.
Bruce cut in here. It was becoming obvious that Elle was stalling. There were important facts about the two of them now that the rest of the family needed to know. While her allergy to chlorine was important to know about, the bond was vital.
"There are other things you three should be made aware of," Bruce interjected. "For instance, Elle can only take her own blood when injured or Dick's. Any other type would kill her."
"Wait! Why Dick's?" Tim asked, catching that fact immediately.
Dick cleared his throat. "Because of the bond we share."
Tim and Jason looked at each other.
"There's that word again," Jason jumped on it. "'Bond' . . . What bond?"
"That was how you knew Elle wasn't on the jet, wasn't it?" Tim asked. "And how you knew she needed you when I came to patrol with you that one time in Bludhaven!"
"What?" Jason scoffed. "Are you telling us that you two are psychic or something? You can read each other's thoughts?"
"Or something," Elle said again. "We can't read each other's thoughts but we can feel what the other one is feeling most of the time. But it is limited by distance, although that seems to be increasing, doesn't it?"
Dick nodded. "At first we were limited to the area of Elle's apartment. But during emergencies, when one of us is in danger or the emotions are extreme, there doesn't seem to be a limit to that. I could feel you were in trouble when you were mugged even though I was on the Watchtower. And across the city when your father died."
"Watchtower? What's that?" Elle asked.
"Hold up! Is that why . . .?" Damian began, interrupting Elle question.
"Why," Tim finished for him, "you fell down the stairs to the Batcave yesterday!"
Jason burst out laughing. "You fell down those fucking stairs and lived to tell about it?"
"We grabbed him, but not fast enough to prevent him from knocking himself out on the steps," Damian blurted.
Elle gasped, turning to him. "You fell down the steps and knocked yourself out? Oh my God! Let me see," she demanded, grabbing Dick's robe and tugging him to her. She started pawing at his hairline. "But why?" she asked as she searched and found a small bump just inside the hairline on the left side.
"Apparently, that's when you decided to fall out of helicopter," Dick replied dryly.
"And this ability appears to be growing stronger," Bruce murmured. "Tell her."
Elle looked back at Bruce, curiously, before turning back to Dick. "Tell me what?"
Dick sighed. "I got a glimpse of Roy as you fell," he tried to explain. "I felt the vertigo you felt on top of your fear and then I saw Roy leaning out of the helicopter. He was holding his hand out to you but he had let go and that's when you fell."
Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "You saw all that?"
"That was all I saw. It was only a glimpse, however," he said. "I don't know if I might have seen more because that was about the time my head came into contact with the step."
"That's incredible! Papa never said anything about visions being possible between bonded pairs," Elle said, surprised. "I wonder if my grandparents have ever experienced something like that?"
"Okay," Tim interrupted her here, "so, no telepathy exactly. Sounds more like a type of empathic connection between the two of you, like something similar to what Raven experiences."
"Who's Raven?" Elle asked suspiciously.
"A Titan," Tim told her.
"Wait! Raven? Isn't she that one who attacked you guys at yours and Kori's wedding?" Elle exclaimed. "She killed the minister! Kori said she was a friend but with friends like that . . . I was afraid she was now an enemy of yours after that."
"No," Dick shook his head. "She's a teammate and a friend . . . Just a friend," he added quickly. "But there were times when she sort of . . . lost her way."
Jason snorted. "That's one way to put it, Dickhead!"
"Shut up, Jason! Raven wasn't in control that day. Look . . . I've forgiven her for what she did," Dick growled. He looked back at Elle. "I'll tell you about her some other time."
"You will?" She didn't sound completely convinced.
"Back on track," Bruce interrupted. "Needless to say there is probably a lot about each of your pasts that you should both share but right now we need to find a way to categorize the bond in a way that everyone here can understand."
Dick slumped back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, wincing when he accidentally brushed the lump hidden there. "Good luck with that. We don't even understand it that well."
Elle bit her lip as she thought about it. Folding her hands on the table in front of her, she gave it her best shot. "Okay, here is what we know so far," she began. "I know you guys will probably have questions but I'll be honest, neither of us know all that much about it yet."
She waited until she got everyone's agreement before proceeding.
"The bond is kind of a link that has formed between us. It encompasses the emotional, physical, and spiritual. I guess you could define it like being soulmates. We can feel each other's emotions but we don't always know the reasons behind them. It doesn't exactly explain why we're feeling what we're feeling to the other person," she said.
Dick nodded. "When I felt Elle for the first time, we were separated by hundreds of miles but I didn't know what was wrong. I only knew that she was in danger and she needed me. That time in Bludhaven, when I was with you, Elle had just discovered her father had died. I felt her upset and her grief but didn't know what had caused it until someone told me. But even now, I don't know anything more than what emotions she is feeling at any given moment."
"Papa said that in time, the bond will allow us to feel the other person from anywhere on earth and even be able to track them using it. Unfortunately, that hasn't happened yet and we are limited to certain distances," Elle told them. "It has made some changes physically, I know, through our blood. Dick can take my blood now as well as A positive and O negative. I, however, am limited to relatives, such as my grandparents, other Atlantians, and now Dick's blood, although not from any other blood donors . . . including O negative. The universal blood type doesn't include partial Atlantians."
Dick grinned. "That has advantages, however. Elle has immunity to most human diseases and viruses and can heal from most injuries almost as fast as Wally or Barry can using the speed force. After being attacked by Nameless, I was given some of Elle's blood the hospital had stored for her use and it allowed me to heal exceptionally fast. It was why I looked better so much quicker than you, Jason, after our tussle on Christmas Eve."
Tim spoke up for the first time since the couple began explaining. "That sounds like an advantage to me."
"That's not all of it," Bruce said. "The bond has some major disadvantages as well. Tell them."
Elle winced and dropped her gaze. "Because of our connection, we need to be together. If we were to be apart for long periods of time, it can weaken us, make us ill."
"How long is a long period?" Tim asked them.
Dick shrugged. "Several weeks. Eventually, if we were apart for too long, Elle could even die from the separation."
"No," Damian yelled. "You're lying. Why are you lying?"
Dick looked at his little brother sadly. "I'm sorry. I wish I were, Little D, but it's true. We've," he gestured between them, "already experienced some of what it would feel like. It's not pleasant."
"Several weeks," Tim repeated. "That could mean three week or months."
"Three months," Dick told him. "According to Cedric Hamilton, twelve weeks would be the outer limit."
"C-Can you stop it?" Damian asked.
"The bond is permanent," she said told them softly. "Til death do us part kind of permanent."
"Hold on a minute! What does that mean exactly?" Tim asked. "Til death do you part."
Jason straightened in his chair. "Wait! Don't say it . . . Don't tell me . . ."
"If I were to die," Dick said, "Elle would die also."
"What?!" Damian asked abruptly.
Elle nodded. "But if I were to die first, it's still possible that Dick might be able to survive me. If he could be anchored here somehow, then he would live. But you would need to watch him because bondmates desire nothing more than to follow the other into the afterlife."
"Are you saying that Dickweed over there would try to off himself if you died first?" Jason gaped at her.
"Dick would have to be placed on a suicide watch for an indefinite period of time," Bruce answered him.
"No, Bruce," Dick snapped. He put an arm around Elle's shoulders as he leaned forward to better address his father. "You promised me."
Bruce shook his head slowly. "No, I never promised that. You can't ask that of me."
"I told you, if something happened to Elle, to let me go," Dick ground out.
Elle's face crumpled. Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes. "No, Dick, don't," she begged him. "Please. I don't want you to . . ."
"Baby, stop," Dick hushed her with a finger to her lips. "It's my decision to make. Somehow you've gotten it into your head that I would want to live in a world without you but sweetheart, that's just not true. I told you, I will always come for you . . . I will follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond."
"Dick . . ." Elle shook her head.
"Where you go, I go," he said with finality.
She leaned her head into his shoulder and he held her. "I'm sorry," she sobbed.
"Sh," Dick hushed into her ear. "I'm not, Elle. I'm not sorry at all."
REACTIONS? Don't forget to review! :D
I don't know about you guys, but I really missed this story. The good news is that I've been coming up with some new scenes for you as we get back to the fun side of things. You should be seeing a lot more of Dick and Elle in the coming weeks . . .