Summary: Fate has intervened in Donna Troy's life, but what will be the repercussions?
Love, Fate, and the Multiverse
By Syl Francis
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Wedding Day: Part II
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"Princess, you look wonderful." Carl Stacy stood at the door leading to the bride's changing room. It seemed like only yesterday since he and his wife Fay first brought Donna home. Unable to father children due to an accident at work, Carl had been reluctant at first to consider adoption. As soon as he'd laid eyes on the beautiful toddler in the Willowbrook Orphanage, he'd fallen in love.
Thankfully, the police had been able to stop that shyster, Harrison, from taking his little girl from them less than a year after they'd adopted her. Harrison had been convicted of child trafficking and at last report was still in Blackgate Prison, serving out twenty consecutive life sentences. Carl still had nightmares about what might have happened to little Donna if that man had gotten his filthy hands on her.
Carl's gaze softened, his eyes suddenly beginning to tear, as he looked upon his little princess in her mother's wedding gown—something old. Embarrassed, he wiped his eyes awkwardly and blew his nose. At Donna's knowing look, he said, "I told your mom that all those flowers weren't good for my allergies."
Smiling, Donna stepped into his arms. "Oh, Daddy…I love you and Mom so much! This is the happiest day of my life! Thank you…for everything!" Pausing she held out her left wrist to display the lovely silver bangle bracelet, inlaid with lapis lazuli—something blue. "And thank you for this…and the beautiful inscription inside."
Princess, may you live happily ever after. Love, Dad
Carl shook his head. "It's me who should be thanking you. You've made your mom and me very happy…and your old man, so proud." Turning suddenly pensive, he asked, "Donna, are you sure about this? It's not too late to back out, you know."
"Oh, Dad…" Donna said with a tolerant smile. "We've been through this already. I love Terry. He's everything I could ever wish for."
"All right, sweetheart. Please forgive an old man who's just not ready to give his only daughter away to another man." Especially one who's ten years older than you, he grumbled to himself.
When he'd found out that Donna was in a serious relationship with her classics instructor—a thirty-something, divorced father of two—Carl had gone ballistic. He'd wanted to confront the man for taking advantage of a young, impressionable girl, but by then it was too late. Donna had announced their engagement, and Fay had talked him down from punching Terry's lights out. Now, he was getting ready to walk his daughter down the aisle and hand her over to a man that he simply didn't trust.
But I'm just the father…what do I know about love? I hope that cradle robber knows what a remarkably lucky man he is.
"Well, since I can't talk you out of this," Carl said, making a herculean effort not to let his dark thoughts ruin his daughter's happiness, "your mom and I have one more gift for you."
"Oh, Dad…you shouldn't have! You've already given me so much—"
"Now what kind of a father would I be if I didn't see my princess off with something new on the day of her wedding?" He took a small jewelry case out of his tuxedo inside pocket and held it out to her.
Donna took it and slowly opened it, smiling at the simple, yet elegant gold locket. She carefully opened the clasp and gasped in delight. Inside was a miniature of the portrait that hung over the mantle in the family room of Carl, Fay, and baby Donna, taken the day they brought her home from the orphanage.
This time it was Donna who had to carefully wipe her eyes to avoid smudging her makeup. Looking at her dad through her tears, she said half-laughing, half-sniffling, "Allergies…darn it…Will you help put it on, please?"
Nodding, Carl took the locket and carefully placed it around her neck. The delicate, gold filigree chain caught the light with each of her movements. Hearing the first strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding March, Carl kissed Donna tenderly on the forehead and then offered her his arm. Together, father and daughter began the long walk to the altar. As he did so, Carl couldn't help worrying that this union was not meant to be.
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Photo Shoot
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Three years later…
Donna Stacy eased her car up to the entrance leading to the Wayne Towers underground parking garage. A red traffic signal greeted her at the security point. A disembodied voice spoke to her in a brisk, no-nonsense tone from a hidden speaker.
"Welcome to Wayne Towers. Please, state your name and business."
"Donna Stacy of O'Day Gallery." It was still so strange to be using her maiden name again. But after the divorce, the first thing she had done was drop the Long from her name; the second was move from New York to Gotham City.
"I have a 1:30 appointment with Mr. Bruce Wayne." As she spoke, she placed her driver's license in a clear, plastic canister that had appeared magically before her. It promptly disappeared, accompanied by a loud hiss that reminded her of the pneumatic tubes at the local drive-thru bank.
A moment later it reappeared, along with a blue visitor's badge. "The blue badge indicates that no escort is required," the disembodied voice explained. "Please wear it at all times so that it's visible, and have a nice day."
"Thank you," Donna replied. The single-arm gate rose at the same time that the traffic spike strips disappeared into the floor. The red traffic signal turned green, and Donna drove in. After finding a parking space in the visitors designated area, she unloaded her photography equipment and quickly made her way to the elevators.
She was happy to be working. During her short-lived marriage, she had managed to finish her fine arts degree—with a major in fashion photography—all while working two jobs to help put Terry through his doctoral program. His teaching assistant's salary had barely covered his school costs with almost nothing left over for rent and other essentials.
Donna had been deeply in love and had gladly sacrificed pursuing her own dreams in order to keep the lights on in their apartment and food on the table. She shook her head at her own naivety. If she hadn't taken off early from work that afternoon in order to surprise Terry during his office hours—her arms laden with Chinese take-out—then she probably would have never known the truth.
Recalling her feelings of horror and betrayal at seeing her husband of two years with one of his freshman students—both naked from the waist down, going at it on his desk—her face still burned with shame. She had gone straight home to their tiny apartment, packed her things, and been gone within the hour. She had moved to Gotham shortly after her divorce became final.
O'Day Galleries had been a godsend, and Simon, her new boss, was a great guy to work for. Although she had a rather slim portfolio for her job interview, Simon had been impressed nonetheless, commenting on her great potential. They agreed on a starting salary, and he hired her on the spot.
"I'll probably regret this later," he said. Then, he smiled and added, "I have a feeling you'll be opening your own studio within a year or two. And, at the risk of revealing all of my 'trade secrets'—" He accompanied the last two words with air quotes. "—I'm willing to take a chance. Besides, I'm really shorthanded right now."
He explained that the previous assistant didn't know an f-stop from the shutter speed and had ruined one professional job too many. Simon had been forced to let him go, and ironically, soon regretted it. He shrugged philosophically. "Even an idiot can help carry equipment. But this guy? Let's just say that his flashbulb burned out a long time ago."
Donna smiled at the memory. She had been working at O'Day Galleries for almost three months now. And while today's shoot wasn't her first solo job, it was certainly one of the most important. The Wayne Industries PR office had contacted the gallery over a month ago and scheduled it, along with a family portrait sitting at Wayne Manor, which Simon had taken care of yesterday.
Simon, a father of three girls, had reported that Bruce Wayne, famous billionaire playboy and philanthropist, had shown himself to be a strict, but fair father to three rambunctious boys who kept interrupting the photo shoot.
"Or, two rambunctious boys, anyway," Simon had elaborated. "The oldest boy, Dick, was actually a very down-to-earth guy. While Mr. Wayne had a heart-to-heart with the two younger boys, Dick took me into the kitchen, where we sat and talked and had milk and cookies."
Apparently, Dick was actually Richard Grayson-Wayne, recently appointed head of WayneTech. As part of a public relations campaign, the company wanted to update the portrait of the CEO that hung in the entrance foyer. The current portrait was of Anthony Wayne and Dr. Thomas Wayne, Bruce Wayne's grandfather and father respectively. Now, the company wanted a similar father-son portrait taken of the current owner of Wayne Industries and the heir apparent.
"No pressure, right?" Donna muttered. Arriving at the penthouse executive suite, located on the top floor of the building, Donna took a moment to look around in awe. She was used to taking pictures in some fairly luxurious settings, but these offices certainly ranked pretty high up. The tasteful surroundings and understated furnishings practically screamed money!
Stepping up to the receptionist's desk, Donna admired the nameplate and desk blotter, estimating that they probably cost more than her secondhand sofa.
A bit nervously, Donna announced herself. The woman nodded politely and buzzed the inner office. Speaking quietly into her headset, she looked up at Donna and smiled. "Please go in. Mr. Wayne is expecting you."
"Thank you."
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An hour later Donna was almost ready to wrap things up. Her clients—two of the most drop-dead gorgeous men that she had ever worked with—had been extremely cooperative, friendly, and funny. Dick had teased Bruce almost relentlessly throughout the shoot, grinning in triumph each time he'd managed to break through the older man's reserve. Either way, this had been one of the easiest and most pleasant afternoons she had spent since arriving in Gotham.
"So, Bruce, what do you say to lunch? I had to work through mine." Dick grimaced. "WT-3D stuff." He gave his father a look with a clear message. Bruce nodded in understanding. "Anyway…lunch?"
"Sorry, chum, not today. I have a full agenda this afternoon."
"But Bruu-uce…" Dick whined. "I've been working here for almost six months and we never—"
Out of the corner of her eye, Donna saw Bruce glance her way quickly and give Dick a meaningful look. Dick made a face that was not quite a frown, not quite a pout, but he nodded reluctantly. Donna worked hard not to eavesdrop on the father/son conversation by keeping her ears closed and her eyes on her delicate equipment, as she carefully returned them to their cases.
The intercom buzzed. Bruce pressed the talk button. "Yes, Maggie?"
"Mr. Wayne…Mr. Fox is calling about your 2:30 meeting. He asks if you wish to reschedule."
"No, I think we're pretty much done here. Tell Lucius I'll be there in a few." Bruce held his hand out to Donna. "Ms. Stacy, it has been a pleasure. Dick will see you out." Patting Dick on the shoulder, Bruce leaned in and said something too low for Donna to catch. From the startled look on Dick's face, it wasn't something he had expected. She noticed him glance her way with a look of sudden interest.
"Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a meeting to get to," Bruce said as he moved toward the door.
"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," Donna said with a smile. "We at O'Day Galleries aim to please."
"Well, we at Wayne Industries aim to please, too," Dick said innocently after Bruce left. "In fact, it would personally please me greatly if you'd consider having lunch with me, Ms. Stacy."
"Excuse me?" Had Richard Grayson-Wayne, heir to the Wayne billions, just asked her out to lunch?
"We have a great café right here in the building. In fact—"
The door suddenly burst open. A wild, disheveled man rushed in, waving a gun. Donna shouted, "He's got a gun!" At her warning, Dick immediately pushed her behind him, effectively using his body as a shield.
"Mr. Kuttler, you really don't want to do this." Dick spoke in soft, even tones.
"No, you've made a fool of me for the last time, Grayson! " Kuttler didn't take the time to aim. He simply pointed the gun in Dick's general direction and fired. Donna screamed at the same time.
Dick jerked back into her, crying out in pain. He clutched at his mid-section, beads of red flowing between his fingers. Yet, he still struggled to stay between the crazed gunman and her. Seeing that Kuttler was about to fire again, Donna shoved Dick out of the way just as the gun went off a second time.
She gasped as a hot, searing pain exploded in her chest, cutting off her oxygen supply. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to draw in any air. The world began to spin like a crazy carnival ride through a funhouse mirror. Things that were close by seemed far away. Kuttler was shouting something at her, his words lost in the sudden roar growing in her ears.
Before long, she found herself lying on the floor unsure how she ended up there. Dick lay nearby, curled up on his side, his hands still clutching his stomach. His pain-filled, dark blue eyes held hers, as if trying to give her strength. She slowly tried to reach her hand toward him, but it seemed as if it belonged to someone else, unable to obey her commands.
Her vision started graying out. Somewhere, she heard additional shouts and gunfire as if from far away just as the universe faded into darkness…
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…She was floating or was she swimming? She couldn't tell. There was no sensation, no hot or cold. She just…was. A bright golden light shone in the distance. She wondered what it could be and the next moment, she was standing before the source.
A silent, golden helmed figure sat, cross-legged in midair. His golden cape fluttered gently behind him, which was odd, as there was no breeze. A golden amulet hung from his neck, centered on his chest. The figure was still as still, his hands resting on either knee as if in meditation.
"Wait, I know you. You're Dr. Fate." She looked around in confusion. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
At last he spoke.
"Troia, in this reality you chose to know the love of a mother and father at the expense of your true self. Your choice resulted in not only your death but also the death of Richard Grayson, leaving your soul incomplete."
"Wait! Dick's dead?" she interrupted, confused. "I don't understand. What happened? What's going on?"
"The pieces of your soul lie scattered like grains of sand across the multiverse. You will be given one more chance to choose the correct path. Only then will you be made truly whole."
"But what about Dick?" Donna demanded. "Will he be all right?"
"Richard Grayson's time on this plane has passed. It remains for you to break the curse that the Dark Angel has cast upon you, thus freeing not only yourself but also the untold number of innocent souls across the multiverse who have been forced to suffer alongside you. A word of warning: Fate can only offer you the opportunity; it is up to you determine where that opportunity should lead."
As he spoke, Dr. Fate stood to his full height, and the Amulet of Anubis began to glow brighter and brighter until it seemed the universe would explode as it did in the Big Bang.
"Fate will intervene!"
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End of Part 5
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Author's Note: Just a reminder: Carl and Fay Stacy were the couple that adopted baby Donna pre-Crisis.
Acknowledgements: Some dialogue and story ideas borrowed from the following: The New Teen Titans #38; Tales of the Teen Titans #50; Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day #1-3; The Return of Donna Troy #1-4; Blackest Night: Batman #1-3; Justice League of America #41; Flashpoint: Deadman and the Flying Graysons #1-3; The New 52: Batman and Robin #10
Copyright: February 2013