Chapter 2

Wayne Manor was still a stately, looming shadow on the outskirts of Gotham City. Chloe had always privately thought that Bruce encouraged the image by having people arrive at dusk, when the bats came out of their natural cave to go hunting. The man was sneaky that way, and had always secretly enjoyed putting people off their stride.

Barbara was waiting at the door when she pulled up, and Chloe forced herself not to react to the woman's appearance. She hadn't seen the former Batgirl since the younger woman had hung up the cape, and wasn't quite expecting the silver hair and lines around her eyes. Chloe's life was much more isolated and nomadic than it used to be, and she had somehow forgotten that normal people aged. It was stupid and self-centered of her, but there you were.

The larger question was, if Barbara had aged this much what had the time done to Bruce? It had been at least ten years since Batman had disappeared, and if Bruce Wayne hadn't still been appearing in the public eye for the first few years afterward she would have worried that the life had caught up to him like it had the others.

"I'm here," she said as she stepped into the foyer of the mansion. "What do you need?"

"Now that's a long story," Barbara drawled. "Coffee?"

"Please." Chloe followed her into the kitchen, which was much as she remembered it. She would let this unfold in Barbara's time. It didn't do to rush a member of the bat-family.

There was already a pot waiting when they stepped inside, and for a brief moment Chloe almost expected to see Alfred come into the room and offer to pour, fussing over the fact that Master Bruce's guests were serving themselves in his kitchen.

"First thing's first," Barbara began. "Where is Kent?"

"Still in Argentina, as of this afternoon. He hasn't started anything recently." Humanity was starting to wear on Kent (not Clark, never Clark, and not Superman anymore either) and he'd spent most of the last decade working on a ranch in the mountains. She'd gone there, once, to make sure that he wasn't pulling a con and using the people there to start up a new base of power. It looked like he'd finally gotten what he wanted when he was younger and was living like a normal guy. She had almost spoken to him, but it would have been awkward and strange and she still hadn't really forgiven him for everything that he had done.

"Shayera?"

"Hasn't left Ireland in the past year. I've been keeping an eye on her, just to make sure that she doesn't start a war simply because she's bored, but she's been pretty quiet. And before you ask, Diana just moved to India. She's been studying the gods there." That was all the Lords accounted for. The Green Lantern Corps had taken John Stewart away shortly after everything had happened and whatever they had done had kept him away ever since, and the Martian hadn't survived without his powers. "What's this all about?"

Barbara set her cup down carefully. "Bruce had a heart attack last week, apparently his second. The hospital called me because Bruce never removed my name from the next of kin. And when I got there, I found this little boy there, eight years old, with bright blue eyes. Goes by the name Thomas Wallace Wayne."

Oh boy. "He didn't."

The other woman shrugged. "He did."

"If word gets out that Bruce Wayne has a son . . ."

"The kid won't be safe. And that's why I called you."

"What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Bruce can't do everything he needs to do anymore. There will be another heart attack someday, and that might be the one that kills him. Maybe the one after that. Hell, maybe it'll be some other thing entirely. Tommy is a pretty good kid, but he's still only eight and he needs more than Bruce can physically give him right now, and I can't be the one to help."

"So hire someone. Bruce has the money."

Barbara straightened in her seat and gave a fairly good approximation of Bruce's own glare. "I can't invite a stranger in here. Not because of Bruce's secrets or to salvage his ego or save money. This is still our sanctuary."

Part of Chloe wanted to jump on that our, point out that Barbara had hung up Batgirl's costume years ago, way before Bruce had apparently been forced to hang up his own. This had never been her home either, much like Kent Farm had never belonged to Chloe.

Except that both of those places were home, in some way. Chloe had wept when Martha died and the farm was sold, though she'd never spent more than a few weeks of cumulative time under its roof and despite the fact that it was a painful reminder of Clark. She knew that Barbara had shed tears in a similar fashion when it was clear she was no longer welcome at Wayne Manor after Alfred's funeral.

"Let me talk to Bruce first," she said after a minute or so of contemplation. "Who knows? He might not want me here either." There wasn't much chance that Bruce wasn't going to put his stamp of approval on her presence; she wouldn't be here if he hadn't already become accustomed to the idea. But she needed to talk to him, and this way she would know exactly whose child she could be raising. Because she could probably handle Bruce Wayne's heir, but after everything that had happened she doubted her abilities when it came to bringing up Batman.

The staircase was the same, the hallway to the master bedroom little altered, and Chloe had to fight to keep from being overwhelmed by the memories. She and Bruce had never been involved romantically, exactly, but it had been a near thing. If there was one basic flaw in the underlying structure of Chloe Sullivan, it was her weakness for heroes. Bruce had reminded her of both Clark and Oliver, back when they were all young and not quite so hopelessly cynical. Love him or hate him, there was something undeniable there. She needed to tread cautiously.

There was a nurse leaving the room as she approached the door, her brightly-patterned scrubs looking incongruous in Wayne Manor, and Chloe smiled and nodded as they passed each other. She could feel the woman's eyes on the back of her head as she walked into the room without knocking. "Just like you to screw up my schedule, Bruce."

There was a slight shrugging, with a repressed wince that only someone who spent their adult lives babysitting stubborn men would have picked up. He looked older, of course, but seeing Barbara downstairs had given her enough time to prepare for that to some extent. Age didn't make him any less dangerous should he choose to be. "How was New York?" he asked, like they'd just been separated for a week rather than more than twenty years.

"Crowded, noisy, and full of pushy people," she replied.

"So in other words, exactly the way you like it."

"You know it." Chloe glanced at the small boy, who was paying far too much attention to the book in his hands. "It's been a long time, Bruce."

"Not that you could tell by looking at you," he replied, a little gruffly, and Chloe had to work to keep herself from flinching. Bruce had always known how to hit home with even the most seemingly complimentary language. There was an odd expression on his face that took a moment or two for her to categorize, and it surprised her a little when she finally placed the embarrassment on his face. "I've been keeping up with your work. You're still the best there is."

"It's hard to overcome a lifetime of ferreting out secrets," the woman said with a shrug. "Are you going to introduce us?"

There was a slight tilt to his head before he turned his attention to the child. "Tommy, meet Chloe Sullivan. She's an old friend of mine. Chloe, Thomas Wallace Wayne."

Tommy had looked up when Bruce said his name, looking first at his father and then settling his eyes on Chloe. She had a brief start when she saw Bruce's pale blue eyes looking out of that innocent face, but she'd seen pictures of Bruce at this age and he was far from a carbon copy. "It's nice to meet you," he said cautiously, and Chloe felt herself smile almost involuntarily. She'd always been a sucker for shy, polite boys.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," she said. She glanced over at Bruce, who was watching the exchange with unveiled interest. "I feel like Obi-Wan Kenobi meeting Anakin Skywalker, Bruce. All I need is a lightsaber." There was a familiar quirk to his lips, and she hurried to qualify it a little. "Not that they even exist, and if Wayne Industries had found a way to create them, I didn't hear about it. Nope." She watched as Bruce's lips twitched again, and smiled to herself. ISuccess./I

"What's a lightsaber?"

Chloe looked from Bruce to the child and back again, mock astonishment on her face. "Bruce, your educational plan is severely lacking. We'll have to fix that." The words were out of her mouth before she'd thought them through, and she wanted to kick herself for saying it like that. She wanted to have a serious discussion with the man about what he was planning, but despite her reputation for logic and investigation she'd always followed her instincts, and they were telling her to stay with the boy. It wasn't for Bruce's sake; those bridges had been burnt long ago. Something about Tommy called to her and she wasn't sure what it was. Just that she wanted to know more.

The old man then chose that opportunity to reveal that he could still read her with only a modicum of effort and gently sent the boy down to the kitchen to get a snack. Barbara knew them both well enough to keep both Tommy and the nurse occupied downstairs, and the two of them watched as the child reluctantly left the room and headed down the stairs.

"I'm going to do this, Bruce," Chloe said, turning back to face him. "I'll stay here and help. But I want one thing to be clear: I'm not helping you build a new Batman. You want help raising your son, I'm with you all the way. But that boy isn't going to be molded into Superman's accomplice."

"You don't think the world needs Batman?"

"Of course it does!" She stood up and started pacing. "We need our heroes again. But you gave up your right to be called a hero. You destroyed Batman with the things you did, Bruce. You are just as responsible as Superman for the things that happened, and you don't get to try it over again. I won't stop him from it if he chooses that life when he's older, but Tommy's not going to be brought up just to carry on your mission."

Bruce was quiet for a long time, his eyes on the stack of books beside the bed. "When I first made the arrangements, that was my intention. Gotham needed Batman and I was no longer suitable for the job, so I would make a new one." Bruce took a sip of water from the table by his bed, one of the few signs of weakness he would allow to slip through. "But beyond everything else, he's my son, Chloe. I need to protect him until he can protect himself, and keeping Kent and Shayera and Diana from knowing that he exists is the best way I can do it. You know what will happen if Kent finds out Bruce Wayne has a son."

"Clark was my best friend for almost thirty years," Chloe said, meeting Bruce's eyes no matter how much it hurt to be regarded with such scrutiny. "I thought I knew everything about him that was worth knowing, more than anyone else ever knew, and then you let Superman kill off that part of him until there was only Kal-El. And once the human part of him was extinguished, your actions led to him losing the parts that were alien. I will never get my best friend back. So yes, I know exactly what will happen if Kent finds out about Tommy. And that's why I'm going to help you." She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. "And Bruce, you will most definitely be paying for the privilege, even if it's only information."

"Agreed."

Chloe did not slip into their lives smoothly, because it wasn't in her nature to slip in anywhere unnoticed unless that was the only way to get the job done. She came in with a carful of possessions, moving into one of the rooms that had been mostly unoccupied for at least two generations and instantly rearranging everything about the room. Her cooking skills were on par with Bruce's, which is to say nearly nonexistent, so she ended up heading down into the city several times a week to get meals and try to pick up some simple things that she could prepare with little effort. Often she took Tommy out with her, dragging him along to Chinatown or Little Italy and letting him explore whatever nook of Gotham she was visiting that day.

She argued with Bruce about everything, starting with Tommy's need for friends his own age, and won that particular one after meeting only a token resistance. That battle was followed up by a concentrated effort to get him using a cane. Bruce had been hard on his body for most of his adult life, and now it was starting to show in arthritis around his old breaks and an increasing stiffness in his joints. A cane would make it easier for him to get around, but of course he had to be convinced that using one wouldn't be a sign of weakness. That fight was only won once he'd mastered all the different ways to use the thing as a weapon.

There were "discussions" on anything from current politics and economics to dissecting history and noting where different leaders had probably gone wrong. Chloe disagreed with Bruce in almost every way, and sometimes she wondered how they could live in the same house without driving each other crazy. Granted, the bulk of these disagreements were begun both to pass the time and to teach Tommy in a more interesting fashion.

It was when she told Bruce that she wanted to take Tommy to Smallville for a few days that she met the first real obstinance from the boy's father. It took three weeks and a carefully laid out plan of what she wanted to do before he relented.

She had to admit that it was a risk. To her knowledge, Kent wasn't in contact with anyone from his old life, but there was still an off chance that someone would recognize her and put something together. There was a slight possibility that this particular excursion would lead to exposure, which was one of the reasons she hadn't introduced Tommy to her cousin, and exposure meant danger at this stage. But the lessons that waited in Smallville were too important to avoid, so Chloe eventually convinced the man that it was necessary and headed off with her young charge in tow.

The Talon was still there and still the only place for teenagers to hang out that didn't involve mud and hay. The bed and breakfast remained the only lodging in town if you didn't know someone, and as it would be a bad idea to advertise that Chloe Sullivan was in town and appeared forty years younger than she should, she didn't want to plug into any of those contacts.

Tommy looked around Smallville with the same wide-eyed fascination that he'd shown in Chinatown. He'd never been outside of an urban setting in his young life, which meant that cows and fields and fruit trees were just as foreign as Kairi Tanaga's dojo. Chloe made sure that he got a good sense of what this part of the world was all about and how it was important to places like Gotham and Metropolis before the real lesson began. She wasn't entirely sure if any of these things would stick as much as the memory of playing in the mud, but it was definitely worth the effort.

She took him out to Chandler's field one night, which was already a novelty since Bruce insisted on a strict bedtime (and Chloe loved to laugh at the irony of that statement). The old windmill was still there, although in desperate need of repair, and the two of them listened to it creak as they looked up at the stars. "Do you know why I brought you out here, kiddo?"

"No."

"It was partly so your father could have a little time to himself. He needs a chance to heal, and without us there to distract him he'll be able to do it a little faster. But it's not the only reason."

"Is it because you're from here?" She looked over at him sharply, and he rolled his eyes. "You know your way around without looking at a map, Chloe. Like Dad knows Gotham."

Chloe shook her head. "Sometimes you're too smart for your own good. Yes, I grew up here, a long time ago. And I like to come back every once in a while. The places like Smallville are just as important as Gotham or Metropolis or New York, and that's because of the people here." She hesitated for a moment, her arm around the boy while she tried to think of the right way to say this. "One of the best people I ever knew lived here once upon a time, and I miss him even more than Smallville sometimes. This kind of place is what keeps Gotham running, and it needs to be kept safe at all costs."

"What happened to your friend?"

"He died," she said simply. Tommy wasn't ready for even a diluted version of that story yet, and she wasn't really prepared to tell it. "Are you ready to head back? If your dad finds out that I kept you out this late, we'll both be hearing about it."

"Can we stay for a few more minutes?" There was a slight whine at the end of the words, but Chloe chose to ignore it for the moment. She nodded and waited while he stared up at the night sky. It shouldn't surprise her, since he was most definitely his father's son, but Tommy loved the dark more than any child had the right to.

They returned to Gotham in the middle of a thunderstorm, which had Chloe mourning the loss of central Kansas' Indian summer as she pulled the car into the garage of Wayne Manor. Tommy was out of his seat and heading into the house before she had the engine turned off, and Chloe rolled her eyes and grabbed the bags out of the trunk. Sometimes she missed the days when she had her pick of young superheroes to fetch and carry. Feminism is all well and good, but the simple joy of having someone else carry your bags into the house was a nice thing to have every once in a while.

Bruce was in his gym, of course, using the training bars to walk back and forth. His left leg was clearly bothering him again, and she wondered if he was avoiding the cane while they were gone. The interactions she had experienced with Alfred back in the old days led to the conclusion that Bruce did best when gently prompted into the desired action rather than nagging or a more subtle form of manipulation. That method worked best for Alfred, of course, but Chloe was starting to work out her own special mechanisms. She had lifelong experience with stubborn men.

Tommy was babbling to his father, filling him in on all that had happened while they were apart, like they hadn't talked every night while she and Tommy were in Kansas. "Take your bag upstairs, kiddo. I'll make sure your dad doesn't run off until you get back." She watched as he reluctantly moved away from his father, grabbed his backpack and darted off into the dark recesses of the house. "I take it the two of you missed each other."

Bruce shrugged. "The house was quiet while you were gone," was the most he would admit. "I take it the trip was a success?"

"I think so. No one from Smallville recognized me." She touched her currently red hair. "This probably helped. I think I'll keep it for a while."

"Do you think Tommy could handle more travel?"

"He seemed to like it. What do you have in mind?"

"Jason Blood has agreed to give him a little bit of training if we come to him."

Chloe turned serious in a heartbeat. "We had an agreement about training, Bruce."

"He needs to know how to protect himself. Kairi can't take him on for another year and the other things he's learning aren't enough. Jason promised to teach Tommy just enough for him to know when to run, and that's something he needs."

"I'm not sure I want to be a part of this. He's only eight years old, Bruce."

"Nearly nine. He's inheriting a lot of enemies from me, Chloe. The least I can do is give him the tools to defend himself when they come calling."

Chloe felt her resolve waver with the simple truth of the statement and forced anger into its place instead. "So this would be the reason you let me take him to Smallville."

"I agreed with you that Tommy needed to see why places like that are important, and Smallville seemed as good a place as any. You know your way around and knew who could be trusted there in an emergency. And now he has an opportunity to learn some new ways to defend himself."

"I'm not helping you build a better vigilante, Bruce," she seethed. "We had an agreement about this kind of thing. If he chooses it later on, fine, but you promised me that there would be no leading him to it."

"These are skills that he can use when he assumes control of Wayne Enterprises," the man replied with maddening calm. "Jason assured me that he would monitor Tommy closely and only show him enough that he'll be able to recognize it should someone attempt to use magic against him or anyone he works with."

In an agonizing moment of clarity, Chloe saw the future offered by giving in to this request. After Jason Blood, Bruce would want Tommy to spend some time learning how to read people, probably from some forensic profiler who owed him a favor. Then there would be more martial arts training, and studying different world governments, and spending some time with Barbara so that he would know about police procedure. Every single time he would roll out some completely logical reasoning for how Tommy would need the knowledge when he came of age, and she would give in to the logic and help make it happen.

Somehow Chloe Sullivan had forgotten that Bruce Wayne was one of the most cold-blooded, manipulative bastards she had ever met. She had no idea how to break this pattern, but she was pretty sure that it had to happen right now, before it achieved some sort of momentum. If she gave in to this course of action now there would be no way to prevent it from happening again and again.

"He isn't you, Bruce," she finally said. "You can't make Tommy into some sort of Xerox version of Batman. It isn't going to work like that. All it's going to do is piss him off when he learns the truth, and you better believe that someday he'll figure everything out."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It sure seems like it is. Everything you two do together looks like one more step in making Tommy your perfect little Bat-clone."

"Why would I ever want a copy of myself?" Bruce's voice was bitter as he limped over to the bench against the wall.

"Well, you're going to have one if you don't stop pushing. Let him be a kid, Bruce. Let him make friends and enjoy himself once in a while. Jason is immortal; he isn't going anywhere. Wait a few years before you spring magic on your son." Chloe waited for a moment, oddly unsure about this next step. "Tommy doesn't need to know what you learned when your parents died."