Chapter 16 Shadows Cast on Devotion

Helena's father was not averse to confronting things head on. He knew that there was a death trap, an endless pit, a confusing maze, or some other unimaginable horrible thing on the other side of the door, but still he walked through with brass balls confident he could face whatever they had to throw at him. It was a trait his daughter inherited. She went straight to Wayne Manor.

Do not pass Go. Do not collect 200.

Helena's mother was not afraid of minor breaking and entering laws. For all of her surprise drop-ins, she didn't walk through the front door. Despite knowing that Wayne Manor security was far beyond her not-so-profession skills, Helena took the advice her mother never her gave her on the advantage of surprise.

The old man fell, clutching at his chest. The dramatic flare he gave to dying reminded the younger man watching of those horrible thespians over-acting Greek tragedies. He didn't know if he should laugh or sneer at the weakness before him. A frail hand reached for him. "Help me, son."

The son bent close to the man, grasping an old head between strong hands, forcing the old one to look him in the eyes as he betrayed him. "Now, how am I to inherit all it is you have to give me if you don't die?"

A look of fury burned on the old man's face, causing the younger man to drop his hands. He was reminded of just how dangerous this all was. "You dare defy me? After all I have done for you."

The young man stood straight again, but his voice had yet to regain its confidence. Softly he said, "You sound like a woman."

The older man was regaining his strength, rising to his knees. "You will regret this day. I am like the phoenix rising from its own ashes."

The young man made use of the sword he'd been hiding, cutting off the man's head. "Not this day."

Another man approached, big, hired muscle. "The girl next?"

The man let a smirk pass his features. "No. Not yet. I have other plans." He sheathed his sword and grabbed the old man's legs, motioning for the other man to follow suit. "But first, we must burn this body. Let him try to rise from those ashes."

He got away again. The very thought of it stung, but there were more pressing matters. Cassie clutched her side tighter, like the rapid blood loss coming from her side. Barbara was trying to give her direction in her ears, but it sounded like buzzing. Batwoman had to get off the streets. No good could come from her wandering aimless in this state. She looked at the street sign. She knew this neighborhood. Tim lived here. She had to get to Tim.

"The kids are asleep."

Tim had announced it with a flair of a ringmaster, an impression Dick had once showed him. Meredith Drake simply laughed at her husband's antics. "And people actually admire how goofy you are for the children."

Tim grinned, climbing into his waiting wife's arms. He held himself above her with his arms, nuzzling her check he whispered in her ear, "You love my goofiness just as much as the children."

When he pulled back to look at her again, her face was no longer clouded with amusement, but lust. Tim smirked; thrilled she still got that look after ten years of marriage. She pulled his face closer again, her voice taking on a huskier tone. "The kids are asleep you say?"

They barely got a kiss in before the doorbell rang. Both sighed in annoyance. Tim tried to lighten the mood again, with a smile. "Hold that thought my dear."

He got up, smoothing down his clothes. If this was some Jehovah's Witness he was going to kill him. In fact, if this was anything less than an emergency whoever was at the door was about to get it slammed in their face as he had more important matters to attend to. He didn't bother to hide his annoyance when he opened the door.

Only to have it wiped off his face when he wound up catching a weak Batwoman in his arms. "Meredith!"

He checked Cassie over. It wasn't long until he found the gash. His wife gasped behind him. "My God is that…"

"Go get some clean towels, hot water and the medical kit." He picked up Cassie in his arms. "I'm putting her in our room."

"Shouldn't we talk about this?"

Tim imagined where this conversation could go and he didn't have time for it. "No. We are helping her, Meredith. Now do as I say."

She didn't bother hiding her anger or hurt as she went to fetch the supplies. Tim had no time for that either. He flew up the stairs and was careful to be quiet past the children's rooms. He set the injured woman down on his bed. He double-checked to make sure his wife was still occupied before getting the earpiece out of Cassie's mask. "Barbara?"

"Tim? What on Earth are you doing on Batwoman's channel?"

"She just showed up at my house. What happened?"

"Riddler deathtrap. She's lucky to be alive."

"And the Riddler?"

"He got away."

Tim nodded. If he had the presence of mind, Tim would have been greatly unsettled by the ease in which he returned to the no-nonsense detective mode he'd abandoned over a decade ago. He started to prepare dressing Cassie's wounds. "Why did you send her here?"

"I didn't. I was trying to give her directions to a safe house. She went there on her own."

Tim looked at his first love. He wasn't comfortable thinking about Cassie seeking his help above all others when in such a state. Meredith showed up with the necessary medical equipment, and Tim was grateful for the distraction.

He tried to ignore the looks his wife was giving him as he expertly tended to Cassie.

"Bruce, I don't know what you want me to say."

Helena had managed to get this far into the Manor without detection. She was proud of herself until she heard the argument. So it wasn't so much her greatness, then her mother's distraction that caused her success. Rather than interrupting the moment, Helena decided to listen in instead. So far she'd only heard vague references to what she assumed to be herself.

"She's in danger and we cannot protect from what we don't know."

"So the great detective doesn't know something and has his tights all in a twist?"

Helena wished she could see them, she could hear her mother's voice moving around the room while her father's was stationary, but she wanted to see the body language. Thanks to Cassie she was getting good at reading body language.

"This is not a joke, Selina!"

"You think I don't know that, Bruce!"

"If someone found out who she was…"

"Who? Who could know?!"

"Your friend was certainly looking at her closely after the ceremony."

"If you are referring to Eddie…"

"I'm referring to the Riddler."

"And here I thought there was a new one."

There was a beat of silence before Helena heard a woman's voice continue.

"As I was saying, Eddie would never hurt my daughter." Helena heard her father try to interrupt but her mother's voice overpowered him. "Besides, killing isn't his M.O. I'm not saying he never killed, but he wasn't a psychopathic murderer with a taste for vengeance. Think about it, when he found out who you were he never really went after Tim or Alfred or anyone close to you."

Helena was more than a little surprised that the Riddler knew who Batman really was. She supposed she may have to rethink her overblown egomaniac impression of him as a Rogue.

"Look. The question right now is not who is after her, but if we should tell her."

Helena took the cue, opening both doors. She saw both of them turn their head in her direction. She hoped she had that cool, confident look people got in the movies during the big reveal moments.

"I think the real question is: What if she already knows?"