Many thanks to:
Kate: They totally are!
DCLOVER: Hip is very smart; he doesn't know about his parentage with Bruce…yet. ;)
Eve: Give it some time, they're getting there!
Sarah: Haha it'll come in due time, don't worry xD
And now, please enjoy :)
Son
11
Bruce watched Hippolyte as he finished eating his dessert with eager appetite. Diana had left half an hour ago, leaving to him the task of warming up the lunch that had been prepared. After the first bite, he had remembered how the boy had reacted after tasting Alfred's cooking. Diana might be a formidable warrior, but she was in no way a cook. He had briefly smiled at the thought of bringing up that kind of argument for them to move over -she would no longer have to prepare meals, as Alfred would care for that.
"Mister Bruce, do you want some more ice cream?"
The little boy handed him the box after taking three full spoons, something Bruce wasn't sure Diana had allowed. He suspected that Hip was taking advantage if his mother's absence to eat whatever he fancied. He still declined the treat, knowing he had indulged too much already. He always kept a close watch on his meals, both out of habit and necessity: one did not become as muscled as he was by eating burgers all day long. The issue of food brought forward another problem: being away from the cave was nothing new, but being away without including beating up bad guys somewhere, was. He would not have the opportunity to train, unless he could persuade Diana to show him a gym or someplace around the block where he could hit a few dummies.
The two cleaned the table and then it was nap time.
"I don't wanna sleep, Mister Bruce," Hippolyte declared at once. His arms were crossed, his look determined. And Bruce really wished Diana had waited longer before leaving for work.
"You know you have to, Hip," he replied, and remembered what had happened at his place. "Do you want me to stay with you?"
Come to think of it, perhaps his son was uneasy at being alone after this morning's events.
The boy seemed to ponder over the question before agreeing. Bruce immediately lifted him, drawing a happy squeak from him, and carried him upstairs. Hippolyte's bedroom was painted with soft colors and filled with shelves of books and random toys. When Hip had brought him up there barely two hours before, the boy had insisted that he had tidied up his room alone without any help, and without having his mother prompt him. He had even tried to use the vacuum on his own, he claimed. From what Bruce had gathered from Diana, Hippolyte wanted to impress him badly.
Once he was put to bed, Bruce asked if he wanted a story. Having been away for four months, he had time to gather a handful of tales he was pretty sure the boy did not know about. He even practiced edited versions of his own 'adventures' to narrate in case Hippolyte wanted a story 'no-one-knew'.
"Yes please," the boy replied excitedly.
Much to his relief, Hippolyte did not last long and fell asleep halfway through the tale –Bruce had narrated the time he had been tracking Nygma through Gotham before his damn bomb destroyed the Gotham Museum. He pondered over taking a nap of his own as he was still a little jetlagged. Hip's bed was too small to consider sharing, so he'd have to use the guest room. Still, he didn't feel quite comfortable leaving the boy on his own, even if he was completely oblivious to the world…
His eyes lingered on the resting, peaceful face and thoughts drifted back to the terrifying morning. Bruce decided that he would not wait until he had answers from Diana's part. A bastard had tried to kidnap his son; he would find who had coordinated the whole thing and send them in the deepest hole he could dig. First thing first, call Alfred.
Son
Diana thanked her colleague and let him leave the room without a proper farewell. Once the door was closed and she found herself alone, she ran a hand over her face. Even though she carried through her work, her mind was barely into it. Hip's words bothered her. This morning's events bothered her. Bruce Wayne's presence in her apartment bothered her. So many things had happened in a short span, and the fact it concerned her son and former lover did not help. Set her up on the trail of some monster or peacemaking, she could handle multitasking. But her little boy, her Hippolyte had been directly involved this time, and the mere thought of losing him…
Thank the gods Bruce had been there earlier to help. She did not think she would have found him in time, or hid her true nature to get to him. Her contact had promised to look into the profile of the man that had been held by security fast and come back to her by the next day. She desperately wanted to return to her apartment. Her colleagues had perceived her lack of concentration and had gotten away with remarks that she would have not ignored any other day. One glance at the clock told her Hip must have begun his nap.
Darn. She would ask Mr. Berne to leave at four today. She was in no state to concentrate.
Bruce's number appeared on her screen. Hip, she thought immediately and picked up, praying nothing had happened to her son.
"Yes?" she blurted, her heartbeat spiking high.
"I know who tried to kidnap Hip this morning."
Diana almost sighed in relief. Annoyance soon replaced her anxiety as she remembered telling him she would handle this. Still, if Bruce had bothered calling her right away, something was amiss.
"What did-" she lowered her voice: "Did you hack into the airport's files?"
"Just the security camera footage, from my extra laptop. It's not the first time I've done this, Diana. Anyway, I called Alfred and sent him the details. He was very happy to comply. I got a name."
She was not surprised by the butler's assistance.
"Tell me."
"James Leblanc, known for petty thefts in France. A few years back, he was arrested in Metropolis for beating up some guy in a black alley and intimidation, blackmail..." Pause. "I suspect he worked for Alexander Luthor senior back then, and still does today."
Diana inhaled sharply.
"What are you implying?"
"Back in Gotham, you insinuated you broke Luthor's fingers after he attempted to molest you." Diana winced; she might have downplayed the events not to worry her friends. "Alfred pulled his medical file," Bruce went on, amused. "You did a number on him. Added to his fingers, you dislocated his shoulder, and he had a concussion when you tripped him in front of his staff later on."
"He was not-" she started.
"No need to justify yourself, I know the kind of man he is. He had it coming." She heard the smile in his voice. And then, the amusement deserted his tone. "I suspect he might have wanted to exercise some kind of revenge over you." Another pause. "How careful have you been with your past?"
"What do you mean?"
"When I made some research on you, I didn't find anything sticking out, aside from a few blank spaces. I didn't think of digging earlier because I did not suspect who you were. If I were to dig harder into your past, would I find evidence that you are...different?"
And suddenly, Diana knew her anonymity might well be threatened by one, miserable, hateful man.
"I covered my tracks the best I could." Her heart beat faster as she thought of the one picture that would betray her, although it might as well be lost in the deepest archives of Veld. She had never tried to find that photo –she had yet to move on from Steve and the memory of those lost lives in the Belgium town always struck her raw. "I can't promise a random person hasn't taken a picture of me by accident, but I kept a close eye on these things. If there is evidence, it will be very few."
"I'll keep looking just in case. Did you call your friends to investigate this morning's events?"
"Yes I-" she paused as realization dawned upon her. "You think he's watching me."
"I think you better call them off. If Luthor is chasing you, he will want to know how far your connections go. I think we both really don't want him to find out about your situation by accident."
Diana cursed in Greek.
"I have no idea what you've just said," Bruce went on. "Look, call your friends back and tell them to hold off for a while. Paris is your town, but officially, you are just a curator for the Louvre. I am a pain in the ass on a good day, but I am also a billionaire with connections…and I am somewhat familiar with Luthor."
"You win," she replied and added bitterly: "It seems that I can go against monsters and gods, but not business suits with deep pockets."
"Mankind is a mess," he said quietly. "From what you told me about your past, we don't deserve your protection."
"It's not about what is right, it's about what you believe," she echoed the never-forgotten words of one Steve Trevor. "I chose to believe."
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two.
"Hip is lucky to have you as his mom," Bruce eventually said. "I'll let you go now."
They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Diana would never admit his words took off a huge burden from her shoulders. He was right when he implied that he was better suited for this part of the investigation. It might alert Luthor of Hippolyte's parentage, but she had made peace with the idea that her boy's tie to Bruce would eventually be revealed. And if it did come to light, she needed to protect her own contacts too.
She dialed a number from memory and waited until the other person picked up.
"Mo? Sorry, it's me again. I have to warn you, there has been a change of plans..."
Son
So far, Bruce was satisfied with the progress they had made. His current laptop was not nearly as powerful as the one in the cave, but Alfred could handle the few tasks he had asked of him. The next big task at hand would be to hack into Luthor's servers and check whatever he had found on Diana and Hippolyte. That would have to wait until his return to Gotham, he needed to plan the extraction more carefully. Luthor was a ruthless jerk, as his attempt of kidnapping Hip proved.
Bruce froze when he heard the desperate, terrified cry:
"Mother!"
He abandoned his laptop and rushed back into Hippolyte's room. The boy was sitting in his bed, eyes wild and looking panicked, his covers entangled on the floor.
"Mo- mister Bruce?" he babbled upon seeing him. "What -where is mother?"
"I'm sorry Hip, Di –your mom is working this afternoon." He knelt by the bed. He didn't like to see Hip so tensed and stressed. "Did you have a nightmare?"
The boy nodded, the lower lip lobbing dangerously. His big blue eyes were tearing and blinking fast. Bruce acted impulsively and tucked the boy into his arms. He felt the small body cling to him and shaking hard. Sniffing and sobs slowly started, and Bruce rubbed his hand over the boy's back. Not for the first time, he was reminded how small and vulnerable Hip actually was. His palm covered half of his back. Not yet five and he had not spared a tear when he had been taken. And here the breakdown was coming. For a moment, Bruce was glad Diana was not present. Her son's behavior would break her heart. Still, he had to ask:
"Do you want me to call your mom? You know she will come home if I do."
Much to his relief, Hippolyte shook his head.
"Mother will be sad," he replied. "And you are here Mister Bruce."
His words made him feel better. He kept holding him for a little while, gently rocking him until the child stopped shaking. Only when he pulled away of his own volition, Bruce released him.
"Were you dreaming of this morning?" He nodded. "I hope you know you were very brave."
"Mother said so too," the boy replied with a shy smile. Then, a thought seemed to cross his mind and the smile vanish: "Mister Bruce, that man, he was mean."
Bruce's anger returned with a vengeance. He forced himself to focus on his son instead.
"I know," he said as calmly as he could muster.
"I mean, really mean," the boy went on. "Like, he could hurt people and not be sad."
He said nothing, puzzled at this turn of words, and let Hip continue.
"Mother doesn't know that I know when people want to hurt people. Tristan -he's in my classroom -he's very quiet. The teacher thinks he's shy, but he's not. He bullies Amandine when no-one is looking. I don't like Amandine because she's a faker but she doesn't try to hurt people. And it makes Tristan happy to hurt Amandine."
Bruce deliberately ignored what he could only describe as the psyche of a future psychopath and asked what really interested him:
"You can feel what people feel, Hip?"
The boy grimaced.
"Sometimes," he admitted. "When people are very happy or when people are very scared. Or angry."
"And the man, he was sad?"
"No. He was…" Hippolyte frowned. "Like, happy? It was really weird. I thought he knew mother and was happy to see me. Even when he was running, when the police ran after him, he was not scared."
Bruce ran a hand in Hippolyte's hair, like Alfred had done many times. The boy closed his eyes and sighed in content.
"Why didn't you tell your mom about this feeling?"
"Mother has her secrets, so I wanted one secret too." Hip met his eye. "You won't tell anyone Mister Bruce? Not even mother?"
Bruce thought very carefully of his answer. Promising outright did not make him comfortable: he would speak to Diana, especially if Hippolyte's safety was at stake. Still, he hated to have the child believe he could not be relied upon.
"I think she needs to know," he said. "This is very important Hip. Diana would want to know what is happening to you, you musn't hide this from her."
Hippolyte huffed:
"I can't hide anything from mother," he muttered. "She always finds out."
"It must be annoying," Bruce conceded with an amused smile.
"It is!" Hip pouted. "I want my secrets too!"
"You will have your own secrets one day," Bruce interrupted gently, all the while thinking 'not too soon please'. "But you must tell that secret to your mom. She wants to protect you."
And so do I, he added mentally.
Hippolyte deflated. He snuggled back under the covers and wrapped the sheets around his shoulders, reforming his cocoon. Bruce was not really happy with that turn of events, he didn't want to end the conversation on a bad note. Before he could find something to say to mend their relationship, Hippolyte spoke first:
"Mister Bruce?"
"Yes Hip?"
"You can tell mother," he said. "But only if you promise me not to be afraid of her anymore, okay?"
Bruce opened his mouth and shut it closed, stunned.
"I am not afraid of your mom," he protested.
Intense blue eyes saw straight through him.
"Most of the time you like her," the child replied matter-of-factly. "But sometimes, you think of things and you are scared. Mother is very nice, you don't need to be scared. She likes you too, you know."
If someone told him a five year old would one day render him speechless…
"She smiles when she talks on the phone with you. I think she likes talking to you a lot. Do you like talking to mother too?"
Bruce could only manage to grumble something that sounded positive.
"It's neat!" The soberness on Hip's face had faded into a bright smile. "Nadia and Mrs. Gisbon say mother needs a special friend. I like you Mister Bruce, you can be mother's special friend too."
He wondered if Hip understood what 'special friend' stood for. But then, he would rather feel embarrassed than watch his son sink into depression.
"What about this," he offered: "I tell your mom about your secret and you tell about me being her special friend."
Hippolyte stared at him oddly but shrugged.
"That's fair." He glanced at his clock and said: "Can we go to the park? I'm not sleepy anymore."
"Sure, okay," he muttered: "I should let you back to your nap. Do you want me to stay again?"
Hippolyte stared at him oddly then glanced at the clock. Three thirty.
"I'm not tired anymore." He glanced back at him and said expectantly: "Can we go to the park? Please Mister Bruce?"
When Bruce didn't answer fast enough, Hippolyte pouted in the very cute way that got him everything he wanted. The man who had face the Jocker, Nygma and Bane without blinking felt his heart melt at the cuteness.
"Fine," he mumbled, and smiled at the small dance of victory the boy did before tumbling off bed and rushing to get dressed. Whatever came next, Bruce only hoped Hip's affection would protect him from Diana's reaction, when she found out her son's plan for them both.