Chapter 21 Set Your Guilt Free

Screams echoed throughout the caverns of the Batcave, as Dick watched Helena execute another perfect aerial acrobatic move. He liked her taste in music, but absolutely loved her technique. As she came back to the ground, he applauded her.

"Your technique is perfect."

She smiled widely. "It should be. I'm damn near an Olympian."

Dick handed her a towel to wipe off the sweat that collected on her body. He forced himself not to notice how appealing the glistening and flushed skin made her, reasoning that she was his sister. It would be inappropriate. "I know. I'm useless in your training, the only reason I'm here is that you and Cassie and you are fighting."

She looked at him with curiosity and he explained further, "Barbara keeps me up-to-date on all the drama."

Her eyes kept a curious look but the rest of her face became more guarded. "I've been meaning to ask, what is the deal with you and Barbara?"

Dick was unsure how to interpret her look, so he answered with complete honesty. "In a word, complicated. We aren't technically anything, but we've always been on and off. We were even engaged a couple times but it never amounted to anything."

She gave a nod, digesting the new information. She finished wiping herself off turned to see if he was still watching. Then she went over to cut of the music, bending at the waist. Dick instantly turned away, but she didn't let him ignore her for long. She came in too close for him to do anything but face her and spoke with a low voice. "While I truly was curious about your acrobatic background, that's not why I wanted you here. I need your help with something."

Dick didn't like the tone she was using as she led him out of the workout room to the computer. It reminded too much of the woman who starred in his first wet dreams. "Couldn't you wait until you and Cassie make up for this?"

She was leaning over the panel, giving him quite the view as she pressed a few buttons. She looked back at him with lowered lashes, speaking in that same seductive tone, "No, only you could help me."

Crap. Nothing good could come of this. If he somehow survived Bruce's reaction, he was sure he would never get pass Barbara. "You know Helena, I really do need to be heading back to Bludhaven."

Helena turned completely now, walking towards with an extra sway of hips. Dick refused to allow himself to take a step back reminding himself that he faced Killer Croc and Bane head on. Then she licked her lips and he thought they were never quite this dangerous. She stepped into his personal space. "Do I frighten you?"

Yes. "No, of course not."

She leaned in closer so her lips were a hair's breath away from his, he could feel the warm air from her whisper. "Dick."

He steeled himself against anything she might try. She was too damn young for him. Half his age. Bruce's daughter. Not Barbara. He repeated his mantra. "Helena."

She laughed lightly. "Dick." A naughty grin. "If I wanted to have sex with you do you really think I would do it in the Batcave?"

At her normal tone Dick felt the bucket of ice water wash over him along with relief. Though the relief turned to annoyance at her obviously amused grin. "Sorry." She said it with no sincerity. "What I'm really interested in is your private dick."

She lowered her voice on the last three words. Dick crossed his arms. "Not funny."

She gave him another smile, what he supposed was meant to be cute before she finally dropped into a business tone. "I've been looking into my parents and who could be doing this. While my mother accumulated many enemies, none really found out who she was. This was not the case for Bruce."

Dick noted the use of my mother versus Bruce. "Five of Batman's enemies discovered his secret identity." She used her long fingers to count them off. "Catwoman, who obviously is not trying to kill me." She began to pace. "The Riddler is just as unlikely, as the only person he seems to be holding a grudge against is the new Riddler. Hugo Strange is dead, out of the picture." She stopped. "The Joker's dead too, but you couldn't past him to have something cooked up even now. Harley got away after all. He's the most likely candidate."

Dick felt it necessary to point out the obvious missing person. "What about Ra's? Old pointy hair is immortal and obsessed with the Detective."

"Yes, but it doesn't quite fit with him. He wanted an heir from Batman, whoever is doing this wants to break him."

Dick approached her softly. "Helena, you know would be a better person to talk this over with?"

She tensed. "No."

"I'm his only son. I know what a manipulative, overprotective prick he can be."

"What about Jason?" Dick felt the color drain from his face. "I told you I did my research."

"I was furious when I first found out about Jason. If Bruce hadn't needed me after his death, I'm not sure I would've ever forgiven him. But he's a good man, Helena. A good man who's had a hard life, and deserves a second chance at a family."

She spoke coldly, "He already had a second chance, but you left him."

She certainly knew where to plant the blade. Dick's tone matched her coldness. "You really are his daughter, arrogant and pig-headed with no real regard for other people." He left for Bludhaven.

Helena remained in the Cave for a moment more. She went off to change into jeans. She didn't like this person she was becoming. She knew what she needed. She meant to leave immediately but a voice came from the computer. "There's a flaw in your logic."

She recognized the voice and felt the anger boiling up. She faced cold blue eyes that matched her own, set in a wrinkled frame. "How long have you been watching me, Bruce?"

He ignored her question. He wrote something on a piece of paper and rose from the computer chair with the use of his cane, walking to her. "You're assuming whoever is targeting you is after me, but what if they are really after you?"

She scowled. "I'm not you. I don't have enemies."

"Here." He handed her the paper he'd wrote on.

She looked down to see a series of numbers. "What is this?"

His eyes gave nothing away. "It's the number to Wayne Manor. You're upset and it's your twenty-first birthday, you may need it."

She had hoped it would pass unnoticed. For a reason she didn't quite understand she shoved the paper into her pocket as she stormed out, thinking of a location of a Gotham bar.

Helena downed her sixth shot of the evening; still she couldn't get the anger out of her system. She demanded a seventh from the bartender.

"Put that on my tab, Bill."

She glanced next to the spot next to her, seeing an overweight balding man taking the spot, giving her what she assumed was his version of a charming smile. It looked like a leer. "I can pay for my own drinks."

He smiled, there were gaps in his teeth. "Pretty girl like you don't pay for drinks."

She cradled her newly filled shot glass for a moment. "I'm really not in the mood."

He leaned in closer, putting one flabby arm behind her on the back of her chair. She could smell the mix of stale alcohol, sweat and overused cheap cologne. "Bill told me it was your birthday tonight, shouldn't you be celebrating?"

She snarled, "Go away, Bill."

He leaned in closer, putting a hand on her leg. "My name's Henry."

That did it. She slammed down her drink and grabbed Henry's 's wrist with such force that she could feel the bone crack before she heard his cry of pain. She then slammed his head against the bar as she did the shot glass. She saw Bill grab the phone, but was then distracted by Henry's friends coming to their fallen comrade's aid. She pushed back her barstool, finally the drug she needed.

She got the first one a high kick to the temple and swung around and caught the pool stick another was swinging at her head. She stole it out of his grasp and then twirled her newly found weapon like a baton. It was her first time in a long time fighting people who really didn't know what they were doing. It was too easy. She wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he pounded henchmen.

She caught the next man between the legs with the pool cue before whipping it around and slapping his face with it as well.

By the time the cops got there, she was on a high no drug could top. She loved the fight. When the two cops took in the scene, one went over to her to see if she was hurt assuming the fight was over her.

The other asked the bartender what happened. Bill pointed to Helena. "She did it. Jesus, eight of my best customers."

Both cops looked at Helena with shock. She knew why, all eight men were at least twice her size and now were groaning in pain. She still only felt the adrenaline pounding through her veins when they cuffed her. The coldness of the steel snapped her back to reality though. She realized she had no one to call.

Only the number on the crumpled paper in her jean pocket.

Damn.

Ethan Grant was a hands-on commissioner. He prided himself on this fact. So when he found out that Helena Troy had been arrested he immediately went down to see why. He saw that she got her phone call, and had her wait in an interrogation room rather than a jail cell. He knew it was slightly against the books to do so, but he still remembered the night they found her parents, as she had found them. And was acutely aware of the fact that the case was currently unsolved with no leads.

He observed as she drank more water her rather large glass of water. She still held that calm, collected manner he remembered from the crime scene. Only this time she didn't hide her eyes, her blue eyes instead watched his every move. He almost wished she'd revert a bit.

He knew she already had her statement taken, her phone call given, but he still felt like questioning her. "Why?"

She regarded him coolly. "He was making unwanted advances, a woman is allowed to defend herself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Three men in the hospital goes beyond defending yourself."

A knock on the door interrupted whatever response she was set to give. "Commissioner Grant, her old man's here."

Ethan was confused. "You have a grandfather?"

Helena quipped her lip as she stood to leave. "You need to work on your American slang commissioner."

He followed her from the room wondering who on earth could be posting Helena's bail.

Whoever he was expecting it wasn't Bruce Wayne.

Ethan repressed the urge he had to start firing off questions about what was going on. Bruce Wayne was practically a recluse after losing his full mobility though the tabloids credited it to losing his looks. What possible connection could he have to Helena Troy?

He noticed the stern look of disapproval on Wayne's face as Helena breezed pass him. Wayne's head followed her path, making his way behind her. Ethan wasn't blind or deaf. He could see how attractive Miss Troy was, and he'd heard of billionaire's roguish ways. She was a vulnerable girl in need of money after loosing her parents, he was sympathetic and rich, it was far from the first time he'd seen it.

But something nagged at him about that old man comment. He called out to Wayne before he could get away. "Mr. Wayne."

Cold blue eyes met him. The same eyes that had been staring him down for the past 25 minutes. It clicked. "Yes Commissioner Grant?"

"If Miss Troy is to be released into your custody and the men decided to press charges…"

Wayne cut him off. "I know the law."

Ethan watched the billionaire limp off to catch the woman he now suspected to be the one wild seed of Wayne's that produced a child.

The car ride was silent until they left the Gotham city limits. Surprisingly it was Bruce who broke it. "Your mother is waiting at the Manor as well."

Helena stopped watching the passing landscape, whipping her head to confront Bruce. "You called her?"

Bruce's eyes never left the road. "No. I gave you the number thinking that you'd get drunk, feel guilty and want to apologize." It was half-true.

"Would you ever do that?"

"Never."

Helena's barely restrained fury broke through. "Then why the hell would I?"

Bruce's voice rose as well. "Well, I certainly didn't expect to bail you out of jail."

"That's life isn't. I didn't expect my parents to be murdered, except they weren't really my parents. No, my parents are fucking Batman and Catwoman!"

Bruce swerved the car sharply, pulling over to the side. He shut off the engine. Bruce gripped the wheel tighter before beginning, "Batman and Catwoman are not your parents, Helena. Bruce and Selina are."

A slight look of horror crossed Helena's face. "You really are crazy."

"No." He turned to her. "The stories about Batman and Catwoman are grossly exaggerated or flat out lies, but there's enough truth to them for me not to have to go over in detail how we met. Eventually, we got past the masks and made a real go at a relationship, in many ways the first one for either of us. It was going quite well until I realized how happy I was, and how real happiness for me only ends in pain. I began to lash out at her, and she lashed back. It ended badly."

The anger was gone from Helena's voice, "How badly?"

Bruce closed his eyes. "She was crying. I was yelling. She threw a vase at my head and ran off with one of my Jags. I put the Riddler into a coma that night."

He opened them again and saw a look mixed with sadness, comfort and understanding on Helena's face. She covered quickly, making a joke. "And you were a little upset over me coping with a few broken bones."

Bruce wanted to stop, but forced himself to continue, Alfred's words of warning that he could loose his daughter if he didn't make her understand ringing in his ears. "About six weeks later she wanted to meet me. I was still upset but Selina always managed to get me to agree to things I didn't want to do. We were in the library drinking tea when she finally said, 'I've decided to retire. I'm giving up Catwoman.'

I was suspicious at first, trying to figure out what she wanted, what angle she was playing. 'Is this your way of getting back together? Because that vase was a family heirloom.'

She got up, visibly frustrated. 'You can really be an ass, sometimes, Bruce.'

I started to talk, but she stopped me. 'No, you don't get to talk for a while, okay. Silence shouldn't be a stretch for you.'

She collected herself and took a deep breath. 'I'm pregnant.' Again I was stopped from talking. 'I swear to God, if you even think to ask if it's yours I will kill you. I'm keeping the baby. I just…I can't….I've thought about it, so much. I don't know why. Maybe it's the thought of being my last chance, my only chance. Or some residual sense of wrongness. Maybe, it's just hormones.' She looked me directly in the eyes; I always hated to see tears in them. 'Or maybe it's just that it's our baby. I don't know. I don't care. I will give anything for this baby. Anything.' I moved to comfort her, but she went on, stronger than I ever gave her credit for. 'Batman cannot be a father.' It stopped me cold. 'I know this hurts, Bruce but it's true.'

I tried to reason with her, 'You gave up Catwoman, I can just as easily…'

But again she stopped me. 'No, you can't. Bruce, I can't ask that of you, no one can. Not even your child could accept that kind of sacrifice from you.'

She tried to put a hand on my shoulder but I shook it off. 'Batman is a sacrifice.'

She shook her head. 'I know. Too well.'

Silence stretched between us. She made to leave. 'I only told you because I knew you'd set that big detective mind to it anyway. But I've made up my mind. I just put someone else's name on the paper.'

I wanted to hurt her, or stop her. 'Can Catwoman really have a child?'

She had a sad smile on her face. 'I hope so.'

I called her name as she walked towards the door. 'Selina…'

She stopped with her hand on the door. I barely heard her words. 'Bruce, if I don't walk out now, I'll never leave.'

One word. One little word. And I couldn't get it out. Couldn't get past that lump in my throat until the door had already closed. Stay. Alfred found me where he left me only I was seated with my head in my hands murmuring, 'Oh God. How much? How much?' I didn't go out that night. For one night Batman took second place."

Bruce looked over to see Helena looking out the window again. She took a shaky breath and looked down at her hands. She didn't raise her head as she spoke softly, "I'm sorry, Bruce. Take me to your home. I'm ready to forgive my mother too."

Bruce started the car again. He was glad he got through to her, but didn't like that she called Wayne Manor his home.

It'd been a long night for Helena, but she found she still couldn't sleep in the guest bed Bruce had provided. So she wandered until she wound up in what was becoming the most peaceful room in her life.

The Bat Cave.

Her bare feel crept across the chilled cave floor. Bruce mentioned that Cassie was staying in the satellite cave in Gotham tonight so she needn't worry about interruption. She studied it, more than she'd ever had before. Because for the first time she felt she really understood.

This cave was born out of Bruce's pain and subsequent mission. As she got to the glass cases with old uniforms she studied Batman's. She envied his sense of absolute purpose. The fact that Bruce gave up his mission, even for a night, at the very thought of her is what caused the night of tears between her and her mother. She remembered something Bruce said to her, "Fighting random guys in bars means nothing, Helena. You need purpose."

She wasn't quite over Bruce's manipulation, but far enough along that she recognized the wisdom in his words. She walked down to view the other uniforms: Nightwing, Batwoman, Robins and Batgirls. She got to the last one. Purpose. She studied the boots. Thinking. It would look good on her with a few modifications. It needs a cape and a different color scheme. Blue, purple and black would go nicely together. But, yes it would do nicely. Even the name fit.

Huntress.