A/N: Sorry for such the long wait for an update, but consider this a holiday gift :) As always, thank you for all the kind reviews! Hopefully life will let me update more quickly. My goal of finishing this story before the year is over will not be happening, but maybe I can get done within a year (I think I posted the first in February), so we'll see.

Chapter 23 Rise Again By Your Side

As a journalist, Gina Vale believed in three sound principles:

1. Every good journalist gets cheated out of a Pulitzer at least once in their career

2. It's not annoying someone, it's persistence, and it pays off eventually

And above all else,

3. A story's greatness can only be measured by how well it's known, not received.

People liked to blame her for Cardinal's death because of the expose on him that made her career, but it was her job to bring truth to the masses. She took her job seriously, regarding it as responsibility. She regretted nothing.

Except that she'd gotten screwed over by the Pulitzer people, but that only made her determined to find a story so big, no one could ignore it. She'd found that exposing superheroes was a sound way to do this; after all, Cardinal was a minor super hero but still the response had been overwhelming. She could imagine what would happen if she got one of the big ones. This imaging led to her resolve—next time it had to be one of the Justice League members.

Gina immediately identified Batwoman as the ideal target. True, with Batwoman she couldn't play on people's fear of God-like powers, but concessions would have to be made. As a vigilante, she could claim Batwoman was acting against the law as much as those she prosecuted. In fact, in the few pieces she'd run on Gotham's masked element, she'd already alluded to this, planting seeds to reap later. Also, Batwoman's identity would be the easiest to identify for she was only human, which guaranteed she was recorded somewhere and the most likely to have a secret identity. Unfortunately, she'd been impossible to pin down.

Until tonight.

For the past few months, Gina had been using a police scanner to track Batwoman's movements; tonight had been one of the few times she actually been able to follow her. The Riddler's clues had helped with that because then she at least had a definite starting point. Most of the time she lost Batwoman to her irregular travel method of running across rooftops, but she'd managed it tonight.

Gina followed her to this building waiting for Batwoman to swing out triumphantly, but instead she saw a figure fall from the window. Upon closer inspection, Gina saw that the figure was Batwoman.

Gina Vale could not believe her luck.

Batwoman was lying in an alley, ripe for the taking. Gina recalled the story of Gotham's Huntress, as reported by Virgina Bale—What a story! Virgina (who Gina liked to think of as her namesake) had won a Pulitzer for some piece on a Washington scandal but won fame for making a costumed vigilante human. She had delved into the very psyche and motivations that could drive a person to such a life. Now it was Gina Vale's turn. She could barely contain her excitement as she made her way to the fallen hero, for here she was about to join the ranks of Journalistic history right along with other great women like Barbara Walters, Connie Chung, and Lois Lane. She felt a glee wash over her that she once reserved for birthday presents.

However, as she approached, henchmen showed up and Gina retreated back into the shadows. It was thing to expose a hero, but it was always best not to anger villains. She briefly recalled how Virgina met her untimely end when the Joker singled her out because her story tortured Batman, which was his job. Gina had no intention of being hung by her own intestines, even if the Joker was gone.

Still as she watched the men approach she was keenly grateful for the camera concealed within her earring. Gina began to write the story in her head; "Dark men approached circling like vultures over the body of the fallen Batwoman."

Suddenly, a dark protector came from the heavens to defend Batwoman's body. Gina only caught glimpses of the figure but saw a small figure in a cape, long dark hair flowing wildly as the henchmen fell one after the other. The figure was too quick for them and it was only a matter of minutes before they were down, and Gina got a good look at this person. She recognized with some shock that it was a woman, with a mask, who peered around the alley as if challenging any other would-be contenders. Gina was never so grateful for a concealed camera. The woman's outfit resembled that of the old Huntresses, but Gina had never heard of a new Huntress. She may not get Batwoman's identity, but being the first with a story on a new superhero may be just as good.

The masked woman bent over Batwoman; bringing a hand to the throat, presumably looking for a pulse. After a moment, the dark figure shifted, her hands searching around Batwoman's waist. She raised herself again, pressing a button on the remote she'd retrieved. Then the dark figure turned towards Gina, for a moment Gina stopped breathing, as the dark woman seemed to look right at her, her eyes burning the soul. Her hand disappeared into her cape and she threw so quickly Gina never caught sight of what only felt the wind as it rushed past too close to her face. Gina yelped. She looked to her side to Batarang in her earring, now destroyed against the wall. Before she could muster a curse a face was too near, whispering with a dangerous edge, "If you want an exclusive on a superhero, Miss Vale, I suggest you go to Metropolis."

Gina heard a roar of an engine and turned her head to the sound. When she looked back, both women were gone.

Tim Drake found himself working late again, with only a few months until his leaving, he was working twice as hard finding someone to replace him. The business side was easy enough—he had it down to two candidates, both with a history of impeccable morals and success. Ron Lerone was working at a successful technology company in Star City, but was recovering from a hard divorce and looking for a fresh start. Robin Latoye was Tim's favorite, though. A Gotham native (with a great first name), Miss Latoye had taken a struggling division of Wayne Industries and turned it into one of the most successful departments in the company. He'd been having her tail him unofficially for the past month, taking her under his wing so to speak. The only reason it was not official was her lack of formal education, which he was trying to figure out how to get around.

No, finding the person to actually run the company was not a problem. His real struggle was in finding a replacement for a company figurehead, someone to carry the name Wayne and be a face for the public. Despite his nature, Bruce had done his duty well (fop act aside) and as another son of Gotham, Tim had been well poised to take that position as well.

But who else could do that now?

"Hey Tim."

Tim turned to see Dick standing in his doorway. Dick would be the nature choice to carry on the Wayne name, being Bruce's official adopted son, but Dick always shied away from that mantle. Tim broke from his thoughts when he first noticed Dick's serious expression. "What is it, Dick?"

Dick looked down and closed the door softly behind him. He motioned for Tim to sit, but Tim stubbornly remained standing. Dick sighed, "It's Cassie, Tim. She's dead."

Tim sunk to the chair as Dick went on to explain about the Riddler clue, but Tim interrupted him, "Who found her?"

"Helena. She's decided to take up the Huntress mantle. I think Bruce is a little ballistic about it. He did that little tick thing with his eye before giving a mean scowl when he told me."

Tim was confused, Huntress, Helena had been dead for years now. He would never forget finding the body. "Who's Helena?"

Now Dick looked confused. "Didn't Cassie tell you?"

"Dick, aside from Bruce, you're basically the only one I talk to from the old days."

"Helena is Bruce's daughter."

That got Tim out of his chair. "Bruce has a daughter and he didn't tell me?! Jesus Christ." Tim began to pace around the room as Dick watched carefully. "And here I've been looking for someone to take up the Wayne name, when it turns out I've had one all along! What a fucking prick!" Tim's voice began to crack. "That asshole…That…That…" Finally, Tim could no longer hold back the tears.

Dick put an arm around him. After a while, Tim began to laugh with a ting of hysteria. "Do you know what's funny?" Dick didn't answer. "I can't even tell my wife why I'm upset."

Dick looked at the man he consider his little brother. "Tim, go home and tell her everything."

Tim shook his head. "Bruce warned me…"

Dick cut him off. "How many women know the true identity of Batman?" He let the words sink in. "Go home, tell her, let her in, let her support you, you're going to need it."

Bruce sat in front of the computer in the Batcave. He'd been here for days now, since Helena came home with Cassie. He'd set an alert up whenever the Batmobile entered the Cave, and that night he'd come down to find his successor lying on the med table and his daughter in tears over her. She looked up when he entered. He walked over and she'd said, "I couldn't save her."

He looked down at Cassie's body. She looked strange in death; even in sleep she always seemed alert and observant, now she was gone completely and just not there. Something deep within Bruce shuddered. And that was the moment he looked up and noticed what Helena was wearing. He growled, "What are you wearing?"

Helena straightened and stopped crying, though she neglected to wipe the tears away already fallen on her cheeks. "What?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "You do not belong on a rooftop."

Helena's look of disbelief didn't waver. "Really? Even now?"

Bruce looked down to Cassie again. "Do you want to be the next one on this slab? Follow the Huntress before you as well as Cassie?"

Bruce didn't need to look up to know the look that crossed Helena's face then. "Fuck you." She walked away, her heels echoing off the cavern's walls and the door slamming with a resounding thud. Bruce took care of all the business required in burying Cassie, then sat in his chair and had yet to leave.

Cassie was another casualty of the Cause. When was it going to be enough? Would it take the blood of his daughter? Bruce couldn't stand the thought.

"Cassie's funeral is in an hour. You need to get ready."

Bruce spun to see the object of his thoughts standing there. Helena was dressed in a modest black dress, with her hair in a bun and a set of black pearls on her neck. Bruce focused in on the pearls, his thoughts now drifting to white pearls, covered in blood, spilling on the dirty alley. So lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice Helena come closer until her hand was on his shoulder. He hid the jump from the surprise but still looked shocked when he met her eyes. "You are going to this funeral. You will go upstairs and get dressed, even if I have to do it myself. This is not a negotiation."

In that instant, Bruce saw something in Helena he'd never seen before in anyone, his mother. Alfred had insisted Helena was the spitting image of Martha Wayne but it wasn't until this moment, in her prefect poise and quiet but absolute strength that Bruce saw it. "Why Huntress?"

The image of his mother dissolved before him and he saw only his daughter as she leaned against the desk's ledge. "What choice did I have? I'm the daughter of Batman and Catwoman." She briefly smiled. "My identity had to reflect my connection to the past, so it couldn't be entirely knew. I didn't want to be thief so Catwoman was out of the question." Her eyes took on a distant look. "And Batwoman was supposed to be taken." She came back, resuming her lighter tone. "As for Robin and Batgirl, let's face it I was not made to be a sidekick, so who was left?"

Bruce looked at her evenly. "I do not approve of it."

Helena smiled again. "Welcome to fatherhood. I wouldn't be your daughter if I wasn't doing things you didn't approve of." She stood up again, no longer leaning against anything. "By the way, I'm moving in tomorrow. Someone has to look after you and Alfred in Cassie's place, and frankly, for all your money, I don't think anyone but family could put up with your jackassery."

Bruce wanted to say something, "I'm…" sorry. But he just couldn't get out that last word.

Helena seemed to understand. Her eyes softened. "Get dressed."