Chapter 24 Now That You're Gone
Meredith Drake looked at her husband's face again. She'd never seen a man look closed off and haunted simultaneously, but he pulled it off. She clasped his hand tighter and moved her other hand to touch his arm reassuringly.
Meredith wanted to comfort the man she loved, but inwardly she was still reeling and wondering if she ever knew this man beside her. She'd feared the worst when he took her hand, clearly upset, and spoke the dreaded words, "We need to talk." She'd prepared herself for a death in the family, an affair, what she considered anything, yet his confession still caught her completely unawares. She still hadn't quite had the time to process and come to grips with it, but as she looked around at the other five guests at this burial she found an answer to a question she'd always wondered about: What kind of person puts on a mask and runs around of rooftops either committing or stopping crimes?
The man beside her, the man who had existed for the past hour or so was not a man she recognized. Her husband, Tim Drake, was the kindest man she'd ever met in her life. He was hard working and dedicated, but also goofy and caring. He was the guy who took every hard thing life threw at him with a smile and a persistent courage to keep moving forward. However, five minutes in the company of these people and he became the low-ranking sidekick once more. The nice guy and the kid that everyone insisted looking after. And, like always, he took it all with a smile, albeit a far more serious one. She wasn't sure she liked the change.
The others were just as serious as Tim had become. She turned her head to the couple at the foot of the grave. She'd remembered meeting Dick once or twice, but she'd never seen him as anyone other than Tim's old friend slash big brother. Today, she only saw the man who was Nightwing. An old, deep pain radiated off of him in waves as his ponytail trailed behind him in the wind and she wondered how she never noticed.
She couldn't place the shorthaired woman in the wheelchair paired off beside him, but Meredith could tell she wasn't an outsider to this group as she was. She had an aura of authority beneath the grief, as though she was determined to stay in control.
The final pair stood directly across from them, and Meredith found them the hardest to comprehend, but felt that they were the true key to the question of what kind of person puts on a mask. Meredith had met Bruce Wayne more times than she could accurately count. But he was always careful never to make much of an impression. Today, it felt like she was meeting, seeing, him for the very first time. She noticed that the papers were wrong, Mr. Wayne hadn't lost his looks completely. Rather, he still cut an impressive figure and had a full head of silver hair, but age toughed and wrinkled a once extremely handsome face. The main change she saw in him today, however, was the cold calculation behind those icy blue eyes of his. She huddled closer to Tim, fully understanding, for the first time, the fear of Batman, something the criminals of Gotham had known and lived for years.
The last person was another woman she could not place. If not for Tim's confession of the late Cassandra Cain being Batwoman, Meredith would have assumed that's who the girl was, as her eyes matched the cold calculation of the former Batman's. Despite looking like supermodel, the attitude surrounding her resembled more of a battle-toughened soldier. She stood with a square jaw like this was a test of endurance rather than a burial of a friend.
For the first time her life, Meredith Drake understood what it took to truly be a Batman or a Robin, and found herself eternally grateful she didn't possess such a capacity.
Barbara wanted to leave directly after Cassie's body was under ground and properly honored. She had to find the Riddler. She managed to dodge Dick's attempts to stop her, but Helena managed to catch her before she was out the door. "Babs, I need some things."
Barbara's first instinct was to just keep going, but curiosity got the best of her, so she stopped. Helena thrust out a piece of paper. "I have a list."
Barbara took the list and read it. "Helena, what is this?"
"I have a plan," Helena said with a nod of her head.
"How does your plan involve a birth certificate naming Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne as your parents?"
Helena sighed. "If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right." Barbara was tempted to ask what this was but refrained hoping for an explanation to follow. Helena didn't disappoint, continuing, "The best lies are based in truth. Bruce Wayne sent me to be raised by the Troys to give me a chance at a normal life, to spare me from being gossip fodder for tabloids as a billionaire playboy's bastard with a pretty socialite. That's where the lie comes in…"
The rest of the list clicked with Barbara and she saw Helena's line of thought. She interrupted her, stopping the rest, "I see where you're going with this. You may want to go over this once with Bruce, but I think it's good. I will get started right away."
Helena nodded again. "Thank you."
Barbara hastened her exit, more excited for this distraction from her friend's death than she should really allow herself to be.
Bruce hated walking with the cane, entrusting a good majority of his weight on a simple stick wasn't something he did easily. But it was necessary and like many necessary things in life it was less than desirable. He walked over to the big bay windows behind his mother's old writing desk. He looked out, seeing the gray sky on the unusually cool June day. He let himself get lost in the sight of the wind ripping off a green leaf from the tree, killing it in its prime.
Tim's voice interrupted his thoughts, "You're daughter is quite beautiful Bruce."
Bruce heard the undertone of scorn and pain in Tim's voice and prepared himself for yelling match that was sure to follow. He didn't bother to face Tim, since he could see his reflection in the glass. "Tim."
Bruce watched as Tim walked over and poured himself a drink. He took a sip before talking. "You could have told me you had a daughter, Bruce. Would've saved me a lot of trouble."
At first Bruce was puzzled by the lack of an accusatory tone, but then remember this was Tim, not Dick. Tim was speaking business, not from past sins. "What do you mean?"
"I've been scouring the country looking for a suitable representative for the Wayne name, and you have a real Wayne all along."
Tim took another drink, but made a bit of a face as he took it away. Bruce ignored the action. "It's complicated, Tim."
Bruce saw Tim put the drink down. He remembered the boy never was much of a drinker. "Bruce, next week I will be announcing the appointment of Robin Latoye as acting CEO of Wayne Industries. I was hoping to have the seat filled soon after."
Bruce shook his head, not caring if Tim saw the action or not. "The seat isn't as important."
"Yes it is." Tim sounded exasperated. "The company needs a face, a Wayne to ensure a stable public image. It's the same role as the royalty of England. You can claim they aren't needed, but no matter what they inspire that nostalgic sense of tradition and stability throughout the years." He continued softer, "Bruce, you of all people know the importance of image and masks."
Bruce looked at the fallen leaf once more. "I'll discuss it with Helena."
"Thank you."
Dick came down from the stairs after a visit with Alfred. The old man had always been a source of comfort for Dick, the replacing mother figure to Bruce's father figure (though Dick would never speak of that out loud to anyone). Growing in the Wanye Manor, Alfred was the plate of home baked cookies and listening ear to Bruce's criticizing authority. The sadness that came more from Barbara's grief than his own feelings of loss from Cassie's death, which threatened to overwhelm him after Barbara left insisting on working to take down the Riddler was now lifted.
Upon looking for the others, he discovered Tim and Bruce were having what sounded like a private discussion, so he left them be. He found Meredith in the kitchen, cleaning up, busying herself to starve off bored awkwardness, so he left her be as well.
Before he located Helena, he surprised by someone else's presence. "Jason, what are you doing here?"
Jason was decked out in his Superman uniform, which Dick guessed meant he'd flown here. He was hovering in the entryway, looking unsure until Dick walked up to him. "I just wanted to offer my condolences on behalf of the League. Cassie will be sorely missed."
Dick thought showing up in person with full regalia was overkill, but Jason was his father's son after all. "Thank you."
Jason let himself drop softly to the ground. "I also wanted to offer Gotham any help. I'm sure the criminal element will be out in full force with the story of Batwoman's death." Jason didn't bother to hide the scorn of the Gina Vale story.
Before Dick could form an answer a voice did the task for him. "That won't be necessary."
Dick recognized the voice as Helena's and a quick glance confirmed it, so he saw Jason's reaction to the dangerous beauty clearly. His eyes widened, his breathing stopped, and his jaw went slack. The boy was smitten. In his mind, Dick laughed at the cruel irony, Jason would have been better off falling for Gina Vale or even Laura Luthor. Instead, he gets that love struck puppy look over the only woman who could and would chew up and spit out the indestructible man of steel. "Who are you?"
Helena stepped forward to confront Superman, clearly showing that she wasn't impressed. "I'm Batwoman's replacement. I'll be at the next League meeting, and don't worry, Flyboy, my city will be safe. Now get out of my house."
Dick recognized the cold tone, but wasn't familiar with it as a woman's voice. From the look on his face, Dick thought Jason's thoughts reflected his own. Even Helena's impatience was familiar, "Get out, or I will find some kryptonite and force you out."
Jason was too shocked to do anything but obey. Dick on the other hand was not about to let such behavior go unchecked. As Helena began striding towards the grandfather clock he called after her, "Helena! What do you think you're doing?"
Coolly, she turned to face him. "I'm taking up the mantle, Dick. So you can retire."
Dick felt the anger well up. "That's my decision alone."
She answered slowly, as if she were speaking to a small child, "I'm well aware, but it is the correct one. And before you even say it, no haven't been talking to Barbara."
Dick's eyes narrowed. "Deathstroke's back. I cannot retire now."
Infuriating logic was shot back at him. "You don't know for sure it's him, his costume's changed from red to blue." She paused, her voice taking a more soothing quality. "Dick, the best athletes know when to quit, your reflexes would be too slow to truly face him."
Furious at the thought, Dick lunged for her. She sidestepped his attack and kicked the back of his knee forcing him into a kneeling position. She'd proven her point but to drive it home she leaned in next to his ear, "Do you really think he could handle burying you too?"
She didn't need to clarify whom she was talking about. Still, as she walked away, Dick insisted. "Be careful, Helena. That arrogant, obsessive tone is reminiscent of Jason Todd."
She stopped directly in front of the clock. She only turned her head to answer him. "I'm not looking for vengeance."
Dick got up. "Aren't you? Don't tell me that you aren't going out tonight to search out and destroy the Riddler for what he did."
She turned to face him fully now, a vulnerable look on her face. "The Riddler killed Cassie, a woman who'd been trained as a fighter since birth. I'm not going to go searching him out. I'm terrified to run into him! I'm not doing this out of a need for justice, or any personal need. I'm doing this because I can."
She turned back, set the clock and entered the cave entrance. Dick was amazed. She understood. Why they did what they did. Bruce would be so proud.
A/N: If you're wondering why Ethan wasn't at Cassie's burial, I figured that no one (except perhaps Helena) would have known to invite him. And frankly, even if they did with Tim there I doubt they would've wanted to. I know many people are upset with Cassie's death, but I have a whole line of reasoning behind it. I afraid of how it would affect people's reading of the story to get into it but if you really want I can either do it at the end or privately. As always I'm grateful for every review I get and always encourage more ;)