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Son
19
Diana would never become insensible facing dead bodies piling up. She was an Amazon, had gone through various wars ever since joining Man's World and met her share of violence. And yet, the lines of corpses in various state of degradation still made her want to scream. Especially when they laid out children. Children, especially as she was a mother herself, were the worse. The ones who lived had to be occupied, their parents searched for. Their cries tore her heart into pieces. As she worked through the rambles, she saw many other civilians give up, burst into tears or just faint. The phone lines were saturated with calls. She somehow managed to reach the lake house in a stroke of luck, and Dick had assured her the fight had never come close to their location.
The search for survivors lasted all morning. Bruce had called his own people to send helicopters and buses and a multitude of means of transport to evacuate the wounded to other cities. He had helped push and pull and rescue others stuck underneath debris, navigate in this gore and kept his head straight. If Diana hadn't already respected him for his actions as an extraordinary mere mortal, her opinion of him skyrocketed with his persistence. She wouldn't have blamed him for giving up after a while. Sometimes, she wondered if his sheer stubbornness was what kept him up.
Still, she felt they were both reaching their limits by one pm. The stress and hardship was taking a tool on him and while she could have physically gone on for the whole day, she was ready to return and hold her own child.
Bruce agreed for a temporary retreat –he needed a better spot to give his orders to organize the aftermath with his resources. They managed to find his car –miraculously untouched –and after she retrieved her sword from its hiding place, both climbed in the helicopter called in to bring them home. The ride back was made in silence, both exhausted and unwilling to broach the latest events yet. Diana had spotted him pocketing stones and wrapping dust in a tissue –no doubt for later studying, which hadn't occurred to her. She hoped he wouldn't find anything dangerous in the air.
When they landed back on the first Wayne site, their car was awaiting them. The employees looked at them with wariness and curiosity. One asked with a trembling voice how much of Metropolis had been destroyed. She later learned half his family lived in the suburbs. Bruce slid behind the wheel again and started the engine. The car took off at a much less hurried pace back to the lake house. They drove about half an hour before Bruce pulled into a side lane and stopped the car. Diana knew the 'talk' would begin, and was grateful it did now. She didn't want to have it in front of Dick or near Hippolyte.
They didn't speak for the ten first minutes. Then Bruce broke the silence.
"What happened with Zod?"
Diana took a deep breath and described what happened, starting from the moment she had jumped out of the car upon their arrival to help the trio to the moment she jumped away from the scene to meet with him again.
"He swore to destroy the human race to get back at Kent," she concluded. "Kent worked to foil his plan…I assume Zod wanted to create a new Krypton."
"The machines were playing on gravity, it makes sense he was trying to format the planet for their needs," Bruce acknowledged calmly.
He kept silent for a few minutes and opened the door. Diana left the car in turn, wondering what was going through his mind. From her research, she had learned the Batman never killed. She hoped he would understand her point of view. He stepped away, his back at her, facing the first trees. He was running a hand in his hair, clearly agitated. He still didn't turn when he asked:
"Did you have to kill him?"
His tone was neutral, though Diana could hear a tremor she couldn't quite identify.
"Do you believe any prison made on earth would have held him back?" she pointed out. He grunted, but didn't protest her claim. "He was a ticking bomb, Bruce. If I hadn't, he would have killed a lot more people today."
"I know," he said, but his tone indicated a different feeling. "It's just that –I swore to never kill. I made this pledge when I began my…crusade. It's not something…" he paused briefly. "I couldn't have done what you did today. If I ever killed someone-"
"I am a warrior, born and bred," she reminded him softly. "It is not in the Amazon way to kill first then ask questions, but Zod was…you didn't hear his voice. You didn't see the look on his face. He had just lost everything and no-one would have been able to stop him until it was too late."
"When Jason died, I didn't kill the Joker," he snapped and turned around –and this time she saw it, the anger and maybe…fear. "I didn't kill the murderer of my son even though I wanted to –even though I nearly beat him to death. If I tip over that edge, I won't hold back –and that is not why I became who I am."
Diana felt what he wouldn't say –that he thought death hadn't been the answer.
And then she remembered –nearly a century ago, in a ballroom, dressed in a blue stolen gown, her sword hidden in her back –the urge to strike before that man made his own move and annihilate a poor village to make his point –and Steve stepping in, stopping her –and the aftermath, gods the aftermath…The consequences had been terrible, but had she stroke then, had she had killed Ludendorff in that ballroom, the peace treaty at work wouldn't have been signed.
For all the good it did in the end…
Diana met his eye, troubled now. She didn't doubt her action, but…
Did I do the right thing, she wondered. She made the call, slew the man, ended an attack before it began. Circumstances forced her hand, but the next time…
"You did what you had to do," Bruce said eventually, breaking her thoughts. He didn't look happy either way. "I just wish it wasn't…necessary."
"You and I both," she muttered and crossed her arms. The uneasiness returned stronger. It hadn't been the first time she had felt this way. She was a powerful being making decisions for what she believed to be what was right. What could keep her in check if she made the wrong decision? Who could stop her if she went on a rampage? Her surrogate family might try, the Amazons wouldn't bother –Man's World concerns didn't interest them.
Bruce would, a small voice in her mind replied. If you went too far, he would stop you.
She couldn't think of this now. Instead, she drew his attention on another matter.
"Kent saw me. I promised to give him answers." Diana did not miss the tightening of his fists or the narrowing of his eyes. "He was there, along with Miss Lane and three other people I didn't know. I don't think she recognized me."
"But Kent did," he pointed out. "And he demanded answers?"
"He was the closest," she paused. "I owe him for not telling him about me earlier."
"You owe him nothing," Bruce snarled. "He should be grateful you decided to take his side at all."
Diana barked a laugh –but it wasn't joyful, but tired and matching her sober mood.
"For years I was alone," she said tightly. "I was surrounded with friends –but I was alone. I couldn't return to my home, I knew no-one like me. Kent must have gone through the same thing –and I know how this feels. Yet, I didn't tell him he wasn't the only one."
Her voice died out.
"It's a lonely place, when you are so different and you try to fit in, to hide that part of you that is natural but others won't accept. I should have let him know he wasn't alone."
"Trust me, I know the feeling."
And with these words, he reminded her that his situation was not so different than hers. She had to hide her origins but in his case, he couldn't afford to show his real feelings at all. In some ways, he had it tougher than her, because if men turned against him, he only had his gadgets and mortal strength to defend him. She, at least, could use her fists to tear down tanks and missiles and heal fast from stray bullets. Diana bit her lower lip, feeling even guiltier.
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier," she said. "I know you thrive when anticipating and whatever edge I could bring, I didn't use it to help. I'll try not to let it happen again, be more open."
The following silence was tensed and heavy, but Diana had said her piece. She just hoped he would accept her point of view.
"It wouldn't have changed a thing," Bruce replied. "Even if you had told me, I wouldn't have enough time to prepare. And you didn't know everything about him either."
"Thank you," she said softly, then turned her attention on something more important. "Are you alright? Or will you be alright?"
Bruce sighed and leaned back against the trunk of the nearest tree. She hadn't noticed how tensed he had been –how tensed he still was.
"I am pissed," he said. "But not at you, not really. A freaking alien invasion just happened, I saw a lot of people die today." He was silent for a moment, and then added: "If you say you had no other choice but to kill Zod, I believe you. I don't like it, but I believe you."
She watched him, surveyed his expression. Something else was bothering him. Diana closed the distance between them slowly. Bruce didn't show signs of rejection or welcoming. She wondered if she should reach out, but decided against it. Instead, she crossed her arms and gave him a look, encouraging him to continue. It took him longer than she liked, but he admitted:
"Why didn't he show up?" She raised a questioning eyebrow. "Kent carried Zod's body and dropped him into a volcano, right?" she nodded. "He flies fast. Coming and going at his speed couldn't have taken him over an hour. Why didn't he return to help with the injured? He has the power to help more than I do with the heavy lifting and since you have to protect your identity, more than you do too."
She had neither answer nor defense to offer so she offered none. The thought had crossed her mind too. Where had the man flown away after his task been accomplished? She had thought he would return to help, but she hadn't seen him amongst the helpers, cape or no cape.
"Anyway, how are you?"
He was still upset, but his focus seemed to have shifted ever so slightly.
"I'll be better once I hold Hippolyte," she replied truthfully, and could see he thought the same.
A sharp nod and both returned to the car. The rest of the journey was made in silence.
Son
Although he still felt conflicted after their last discussion, Bruce forced all negative thoughts aside when they reached the lake house. Hippolyte was waiting for them, sitting on the porch. At the sight of their car, he darted from his spot and ran towards them with eager eyes and opened arms.
"Mothermothermothermother!" he cried and jumped into her awaiting arms. Bruce felt a pang of jealousy until Hip glanced over her shoulder and grinned at him. "You're back too father!"
"Did you miss us that much?" he teased halfway. He did not forget that had the invasion not been cut short, he would have never seen his boy again.
"Dick was there and Alfred too," the boy replied before making a face. "He made green beans. There's some leftovers too, you have to eat."
"We will," Diana said. "And you need to nap."
Hip did not protest. He kept his vice-grip on his mother but did not leave Bruce out of his peripheral vision either. Bruce sincerely hoped they weren't screwing up his mind. Used to absence or not, he could not imagine how the boy felt. At least, he thought grimly, he will not be alone if anything happened to them. And then a thought occurred to him: if he died, no legal support had been drawn to protect Hippolyte. Dick was assured to receive his part of his legacy while Hip…Hip would return to the shadows of his mother's lifestyle. While he knew Diana earned a comfortable living, she would never reach Bruce's largess. And Hip could always fall back on a generous provision should anything happen to either of his parents.
Note to oneself, he thought, change the will and talk to Diana about this.
"Glad to see you in one piece."
He glanced at Dick, who was currently standing a little away. His own greeting was more restraint, but the relief was palpable.
"Glad it all ended so quickly," Bruce replied. "And I'm glad you're alright too."
They both stood at a safe distance, still feeling the newness at Bruce's attempt to be more…open. In the end, Hip broke the ice, again.
"Father, you can hug Dick too, even if he's tall," he called from over Diana's shoulder. "Everyone likes to be hugged, that's what Nadia says."
Dick was the braver one as he opened his arms with an awkward smile. Bruce rolled his eyes but stepped forward and returned a warm embrace. Hip seemed satisfied and immediately yawned. Yep, definitively past his naptime.
When Alfred showed up in turn, Bruce couldn't remember when he had shown so much relief.
"Lunch is ready," he announced calmly, but the tremor in his voice spoke volumes of his state of mind. For a long time, Bruce had suspected the butler routine was what kept Alfred sane. They had seen a lot of shit together –but this was a whole new level.
Hippolyte was brought to bed and fell asleep within seconds. Diana and Bruce were brought to the table and ate, although without neither were really hungry. Dick and Alfred sat with them, asked for details. The two gave their accounts of the battle –though Bruce skirted over how Zod died exactly, and Diana thankfully didn't offer more. By the time they were done, the clock was ticking three.
"So what's the plan?" Dick asked.
"I will return to Metropolis," Diana said. "Help where I can, even if it's just a few hours. There are still many bodies that need to be recovered and people may still be rescued."
"I want to analyze the samples I brought back," Bruce announced in turn. "If anything's amiss, I'll find out."
"I'll go with you to help out," Dick addressed Diana. "It won't be odd for a cop to show up to give a hand and even without my job, I'm sure a few volunteers had begun to organize things around." He turned towards Bruce. "And if you need extra samples, I'll know where to look."
Bruce agreed: Dick knew him best when it came to finding what he wanted. Alfred disposed of the dishes while the two others left to prepare for departure. Bruce was halfway heading down to the cave when he sensed someone following him. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Hip peeking at him from behind the wall, dressed in his day clothes again.
"Mother and Dick are leaving," he announced. "Can I stay with you?"
"Did they say goodbye?" Bruce asked, curious.
"Mother kissed me here," he pointed at his forehead. "She does that when she thinks I'm sleeping and she's going to leave. So I said bye to her and said bye to Dick too and I wasn't tired anymore." He blinked his puppy eyes. "Can I come to the cave please?"
Bruce hesitated, and knew when Hippolyte's eyes flared that he had made a mistake. The little shit would learn very quickly how to exploit his cuteness to his own end.
"Neat!" he blurted and added: "I'll be right back! Don't go without me!"
And Bruce groaned. He could give Alfred an explicit order to keep Hip busy. He should warn his butler that his smartass son needed to be distracted long enough for him to perform tests on his samples. The cave was not a place for a young boy –especially with the Wayne potential for trouble. But by the time he had gathered his wits and had decided to seek out the older man, Hip was already back, carrying his papers and crayons for drawing. The determined expression meant he was not getting rid of him anytime soon.
If anyone had told me I'd be babysitting a kid in the cave of all places, he thought, cursed himself for thinking. One last glance at the winning smile of the boy and he gave up.
"You stay put and listen to everything I say, otherwise, I'm sending you back upstairs. Got it?"
Hippolyte nodded so hard Bruce thought his head might fall off. He picked his son and tucked him underneath his arm. Hip squealed in delight and, much to Bruce's surprise, was a complete angel the rest of the afternoon.
Son
Dick was very glad he had the advantage of riding in a very comfortable car on the way. Diana had opted to take her own means of transport in case she needed to make a hasty exit of her own. She had dressed very comfy for the occasion –or as comfy as someone used to dress up would. When he arrived, she was already there, discussing with someone who seemed to be directing people around. The other woman held a notepad containing a list of names.
"You can go in the west street. Don't forget to return to sign out –we don't need more missing people."
Diana offered her an encouraging smile and thanked her. She gave Dick a discreet nod and departed. So playing it as strangers…did she suspect someone might recognize her? Or was the connection between Diana and Bruce too soon to be publicly vaunted yet? He nodded discreetly in return and approached the woman with the notepad. She was just writing down 'Diana Berne' –Berne? he thought, puzzled. Random name or acquaintance?- when she looked up and paused. Dick felt very flattered at the 'hey handsome' flash in her eyes before she managed to regain her serious and asked:
"Came to help?"
"I was in the area, thought I might," Dick replied. The woman lifted her notepad, pen at the ready.
"Today is searching for potential survivors. Go to the truck over there, get your kit –gloves, mask, pocket lamp and whistle –in case of trouble. The day search ends at seven thirty at the latest –return here to sign out so we can keep track of every non-professional volunteer. Name please?"
Her voice sounded tired, as if she had repeated this for hours. Dick gave his name and added:
"The equipment came in fast."
That drew a half-smile from her.
"Yeah, the trucks delivered two hours ago. Word is he –Bruce Wayne, that is, Wayne Enterprise sent the whole thing –was there when all this happened," she waved around and added with admiration: "You can tell whatever you want about the guy, but he is really efficient. I am a fan."
Dick left before she remembered 'Richard Grayson' was actually Bruce Wayne's ward. No wonder why Diana tried to minimalize their exchange. Perhaps he should have used a different name too. He took his own kit and was directed in the East sector. Five people were going through fallen debris, picking up stones and dirt. They barely exchanged a few words, too busy –or too tired to concentrate on anything else but their task. The masks did a tolerable job of shielding them from the dust and the gloves didn't tear easily. One hour later, they had managed to dig up two survivors –one injured, one more or less standing, three corpses and quite a few bloody limbs. Two volunteers left after and were replaced by equally sober recruits. The sun was starting to set when Dick heard a click nearby.
He glanced around, trying to find the origin, and spotted a silhouette not too far from him.
A woman in her mid-twenties was lowering a camera, aimed at the site. Her dark brown hair was tied in a high ponytail, skin pale, slim figure. She wore the Wayne kit, but also carried a bag for her camera. Said object looked rather expensive. He wondered if she was a professional. A glance at her face informed him she was not taking those pictures lightly. There was something grave in her eyes, as if she was reliving a memory. Once she was done, she put back the camera in her bag and joined another volunteer to help move a metallic beam. Dick almost joined them when another scene caught his eye. In the distance, he saw Diana talking to a big-looking man.
He hadn't seen her in the three hours he had been working, although he thought he had caught sight of her amongst a group. He almost turned around and returned to his group had he not noted the man's attitude. Even from the afar, Dick could see Diana appeared…uneasy.
He immediately dropped his work and moved towards the two quietly. None of his colleagues noticed his departure. As he approached, he could hear the intonation and before he understood the words, Dick could tell the man was not happy.
"-intentions. You helped us, but-"
"M. White," she interrupted sharply, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed. "I believe this is neither the place nor the time to blurt out your suppositions. There are people who need rescuing. If you aren't fit, stop pestering me with your theories and go home."
"One interview," he went on insistently, and Dick thought –oh shit –could he have witnessed her in action somehow? "There will be a separation in people's opinion –if they believe Superman is the only one with powers, it'll be a mess out there. But if they know he's not alone-"
"And I said you need rest." She was losing her patience. "Now stop harassing me."
The man frowned and opened his mouth, not ready to give up. Dick decided now would be as good as any to intervene.
"Is there a problem?" he said as he approached. "Ma'am, is he bothering you?"
It was the good approach. Diana looked relieved at his presence. 'M. White' looked annoyed. Still, he stepped away, looking like he would return as soon as he found something. Dick made a mental note to check out the man's background whenever he had a moment.
"Persistent fellow," he said, once the man had stepped far enough. "You're alright?"
The woman frowned, biting her lower lip. She looked suddenly thoughtful, not particularly scared, which he considered a good start.
"Yes, yes I'm alright. He wasn't threatening, just…misguided about something. He is the kind of man that can be reasoned with rational dialogue and very sensitive arguments." She paused and smiled. "Under different circumstances, I would enjoy exchanging with him."
"Did you get his name?"
"Perry White, editor in chief of the Daily Planet."
Dick gaped at her.
"That is bad," he said. Press and secret identities didn't mix well. Bruce could use the press all he wanted, but would never hint anything at it unless there was a scandal he wanted out.
Diana gave him a reassuring smile that did not quite reassure him.
"Using the right arguments, he could be a useful ally. He won't do anything for a while –there are bigger concerns to deal with right now, and he might not do anything at all if I keep my head down." She turned back to face him and added softly: "I will need to discuss the matter with Bruce before anything else."
Thank god she was learning, he thought humorously. Now he wondered how she would convince that man to trust a reporter of all people. Knowing what he was getting to know of Diana, she might succeed. He really wished he would witness that conversation. Perhaps pop in more often under the pretense of babysitting Hip? Watching those two would make family diner far more interesting.