Chapter 8 Cold and Alone Again

The bad things about spending a good amount of time in a cave is that it's cold and empty. Bruce usually didn't mind these things. In fact, to him that was part of a cave's charm. Tonight, though, it was bothering him. The cold always made his knee ache more. He had wrapped up three cases and Cassie was out doing the legwork, catching criminals.

It all bothered him.

It wasn't so much that Cassie was out while he had to stay in. He was self aware enough to admit that he did miss the adventure and the adrenaline, but he did not miss the worried nights and morning afters. Too much of his time was wasted on worrying about how many more would die in the Joker's plan and recovering from fear toxin or Ivy's "charms". It was more the fact that despite her intelligence, Cassie had yet to show a true interest in detective work. She was a wonderful Batwoman, but Bruce knew she was doomed without the detective side of it. He was having a hard enough time being at peace with the situation, but if she didn't fully embrace her life, he could never rest.

He looked at the clock. Midnight.

Happy New Year.

Had it already been a week since the Ball?

He couldn't stop thinking about it, about her. Alfred had known as soon as he walked through the door with his soup.

"Miss Kyle was at the Ball wasn't she, Master Bruce?" He gave a weak smile.

Bruce gave a rare genuine one back, setting the tray down carefully for Alfred to eat while sitting in his regular chair beside the bed. "How can you always tell?"

Alfred took a spoonful of homemade squash soup, his favorite. "I knew there was a chance she would be invited. It wasn't so long ago I planned that event, you know." He took another sip. "You always were so distracted after an encounter with her, even before you really knew who she was." Another sip. "How was she?"

Bruce gave a snort that counted as a chuckle for him. "She was Selina."

Alfred smiled. "I was always so fond of Miss Kyle. Never as much as you, of course…"

"Alfred…"

He took another sip of soup. "It's not my business, sir."

Bruce looked lovingly at his oldest friend. "When did that ever stop you? You meddled as much as any parent."

The sat in silence for a moment, letting the gravity of his words make their impact, the only sounds filling the room were the gradually intake of soup and the clock on the mantle. Bruce was the one who broke it. "Do you think they would be proud of me? Would approve of how I chose to live my life?'

Alfred set down his spoon. "Your parents would have been proud of you no matter what you did with your life Master Bruce. But yes, I think they would be, just as I am."

Bruce shook his head, standing up. He struggled for a bit and nearly fell right back into his seat but grabbed his cane just in time. "I made a lot of wrong decisions, Alfred. Many I know you didn't approve of."

Alfred waited to speak until Bruce turned to look at him. "You did the right thing more often than the wrong, which is all any good man can do."

Bruce looked out the window. He watched the wind and snow beat against the unmoving pines in the distance. Silence came again.

This time it was Alfred who broke it. "You know I wouldn't mind a visit from Miss Kyle. She could always brighten up any situation."

Bruce continued to stare. "She doesn't know, Alfred."

"She's a bright woman, I'm sure she will."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

A moment passed. "Which she are we speaking of Master Bruce?"

"Both."

"I wouldn't mind a visit from the other as well."

Bruce turned to face his old friend. "Maybe, Alfred."

Bruce's eyes blinked coming out from his memory into the present. Despite what he said, Bruce knew Alfred always had a secret desire to see the boy he raised raise a family of his own, and it was never much of a mystery who he wanted that family to be with. Alfred always thought that as soon as Bruce's mission ended, his real life could begin. All those necessary sacrifices could be rectified.

Bruce knew Alfred just couldn't understand. The mission wasn't over. It would never end, and the sacrifice would never stop.

Bruce worried that Cassie didn't truly understand that either.

Batwoman watched as another criminal was put behind bars. Bruce would be pleased. Three more criminals off the streets of Gotham, until some slimy lawyer got them out anyway.

Perched high above the rest of Gotham, Cassie loved even the bitterly cold winds that made a dramatic whipping of her cape and hair, but also chilled her bones. She did not, however, love being left alone with her thoughts.

Tim looked good.

She hated thinking about the one that got away, or rather walked away. She still couldn't get over him just walking away from everything, to just give up the hero lifestyle like it was nothing. Like it was a choice more than a calling. And for what? To become another businessman climbing the corporate ladder. He couldn't even excuse it as taking over the other aspect of Bruce Wayne's life, for when all was said and done he would be returning to his father in Drake Industries. There was already talk circulating.

"Cold night."

Cassie stiffened but refused to let the Commission sneaking up on her show. "Shouldn't you be at a New Year's party like everyone else?"

He grunted, taking out cigarette. Cassie snarled at the habit. "I work as much as you. It's my city too after all."

They stood in silence. He motioned to the police station across the street, "Thanks for your help tonight. Every night."

"It's my job."

"It's really not, but any help is appreciated."

Another moment of silence passed, and again the commissioner broke it. "We're not so different you and I."

Cassie held back a sigh. She did not need this tonight. During their past few meetings, the commissioner had gotten flirty with her. It wasn't something she was well equipped to handle—she usually just ran away when he started—but tonight was different. Maybe it was the memories of Tim and regret, but tonight she didn't run. She stayed. "Is this the part where you tell me how good I look?"

He gave a soft chuckle. "No. With any other girl, but you wouldn't be swayed by that."

She finally looked at him, narrowed green meeting amused blue. "And what would?"

He stepped closer. "We are people of action, not words." He kissed her.

She gave in.

She didn't want to be alone tonight.

Dick barely heard what Superman was saying. His concentration was solely focused on the pain in his back and not letting it show. Since when did a double handspring give him anything but a thrill?

Barbara was right; he was getting too old for this. He'd have to retire soon, and then Cassie could come to these things.

Yes, the Justice League saved the world and yes it was important to have a human/Gotham hero represented, but Dick was about as patient as Bruce in the discussions around saving the world and picking times for watch duty. They'd won, why was Superman so eager to talk? It was logical just to have their meeting now rather than return tomorrow, but Dick was suffering from an injury.

Not that anyone knew that.

That was the second thing he didn't like, he always felt like an old man at these things. Other than J'onn he was the oldest one here. Everyone else was the kid of a hero. Technically so was he, but it still wasn't his generation. How did J'onn manage this?

Dick looked at the other members in the room. Standing at two spots away was Jason Kent aka Superman. Giving his big Superman speech. Clark must be proud. Not that he didn't have good reason too. Jason had somehow gotten the best of both worlds inheriting the good qualities of both his parents aside from a weakness to kryponite. Dick usually even liked and admired the kid when he wasn't up on his soapbox.

Next to Jason was a full-fledged alien, Martian Manhunter J'onn J'onzz. He hadn't changed a bit over the years. Dick figured it was the alien DNA, and that he probably aged differently. Hell, he'd probably still be in the Justice League a hundred years from now. It was his family. Kind of a sad existence when he really thought about it.

Next to him, was Aquaman's daughter, Marina. She was a nice, pretty girl who was much less temperamental than her father. That's about all Dick ever thought about her.

On his other side was the other girl in this Justice League, Iris West, the Flash. (See, Cassie would fit right in with the girls.) Daughter to Wally West, Dick remembered when the girl was in diapers. She had grown but was still considerably young. Young enough that he got phone calls from Wally concerning his little girl and her dangerous lifestyle choice. Dick laughed him off, but also secretly thought that Wally was right to worry. The girl may look like her mother, but she acted just like Wally.

A father should be worried.

This left Black Arrow (Black Canary and Green Arrow's son Conner) and Warhawk (Green Lantern (John Stewart) and Hawkgirl's son Rex), they were exactly what you would expect. Warhawk could use a sense of humor, and Black Arrow could spare some of his.

Another fifteen agonizing minutes later the meeting came to a close and Nightwing rushed out. He really needed to be alone right now. He ignored J'onn calling his name. He'd find out later. Right now there was a med kit and a bed calling his name.

The house was so empty. It was times like this that Helena regretted her decision to switch her rent payments to morgage ones, but she wanted to keep the house. When she found out that college was taken care of, she figured she could afford the house as she ditched gymnastics for paying work. She just wished the house wasn't so empty, and she could enter the dining room without smelling blood. Maybe it had been a huge mistake to keep the house, but she wasn't ready to let it go.

She had spent the last few months in almost total isolation. She had a few friends from class or gymnastics but no one close. Just people to smile at and make small talk with when met. No one to call to come over and soothe her loneliness.

That's why she was so surprised to hear her doorbell ringing.

She was even more surprised by who was behind it.

"Happy New Year!" Barbara handed Helena a noisemaker and pushed passed her. Helena studied the steps in front of her house wondering how Barbara managed that before closing the door.

While she had looked on at nothing, Helena saw that Barbara had managed to already make it to her kitchen. By the time she got there, Barbara was studying the books on her table with a sort of glazed over look. "Barbara, are you drunk?"

Barbara's glazed look focused. "No. Of course not."

"Well, I am not exactly uses to visits at two o'clock in the morning."

Barbara shrugged. "You'd be amazed what you can get used to."

Helena wondered about that. Why would a librarian be so used to late night visits?

Barbara continued, "Besides, it's New Year's, everyone is up late." Barbara studied the material on Helena's table more closely. "What are you working on?"

It was the information Helena had gotten on Christmas, she was going to give it to Barbara eventually, but still couldn't think of a good story as to how she got it. "Nothing."

Barbara grabbed the papers before Helena could. "Doesn't look like nothing." She read them. "Helena, how did you get these?"

Helena stammered for awhile before finally giving in and telling her the illegal truth.

Barbara's reaction? She smiled. "Helena, do you remember Cassie at Thanksgiving?"

This was not the reaction Helena expected. The knowing smile unsettled far more than if Barbara had started dialing the cops. She trotted carefully on this dangerous ground. "Yes."

Barbara gave a nod and went to arrange some books on a table. "I was thinking that it might be a good idea for you to learn some self-defense. Cassie is an expert."

"I thought she was a nurse."

"You can have more than one skill set." Barbara moved on to the book pile.

"Actually, it's part of the reason Bruce hired her, she's a chef, chauffeur, bodyguard, nurse, and maid all in one."

Helena remembered all the stories she'd heard about him. "Not to mention she's a beautiful woman he can ogle."

Barbara annoyed instantly. "Bruce isn't really like that."

Helena wondered at her too strong reaction. Bruce Wayne was certainly handsome, even at his age. Did Barbara have a thing for him? "How do you know Bruce?"

Barbara sighed. "I dated his son, Dick. We bonded."

"I didn't realize Dick was that young, or Bruce that old."

"They're not. Dick was adopted."

"Oh." Helena thought about her own status as an adopted child, maybe Bruce Wayne was just a good guy who got a bad rap. "Funny that's not mentioned more. It would show a more charitable image."

"The Wayne Foundation is the best charity in Gotham. It's society that has misplaced morals, not Bruce. It's not his fault people care more about his sex life than his real one."

It made sense to Helena. After all, she'd only gotten glimpse of Bruce but none of them match the view she'd known. She thought of his parents. Maybe their son took more after them than she used to think. "I think you're right about that self-defense thing. Make the arrangements."