A/N: Running long again, so long in fact that I wouldn't be surprised if part two is ready to go by the end of the weekend. It's all setting up for that party. As long as these chapters have been getting, I may be off on my 30 count. (But only by a little.) There's a bit of everything so yes, a bit of Tim and Jason. I see the reviewers are split on that one. lol!
I could still feel his lip touching mine, as if it were nothing but a butterfly's wing. Even when my teeth stabbed into my lip, I could still feel the soft memory lingering there as if it were teasing me. I'd never been so close to having my first kiss. And if—if I'd just surrendered sooner, if I hadn't froze…maybe…
"So, do you want to tell me where you've been?" Dad's voice pulls me from the train car, untangling me from the memory Tim's weight and the cradling hand that kept my head from hitting the wall. I'm in the backseat again, watching the glowing buildings cut ribbons of light into the cab of the car. The man beside me wasn't happy. I can feel the words bubbling at the back of my throat and yet I can only stare at the shoe lying in my lap. I want to tell him about jumping out the window. I want to tell him about the dogs and the paparazzi. And about the train, God I want to tell him about that. My mouth is threatening to tell him about how we snuck into the theatre and watched the most amazing dance group ever. I saw a little girl rise out of the ashes. I watched her preform and smile. I watched her forget that her world had fallen apart.
And yet all I could do was tilt my head toward the window, and watch the lights of the train speed by over our heads. I wanted to tell someone about the feel of Tim's hand in mine. I wanted to talk about our shadows dancing on the concrete. "Delilah."
I didn't recognize the girl in the window, that half smiling girl who seems so full of wonder. But I do catch Bruce Wayne's stoic reflection. He's still waiting on an answer. I can't tell him about holding a boy's hand or nearly kissing him and how that keeps giving my insides that strange ticklish sensation that just wanted to make a laugh climb out of my lungs for no good reason.
"If I'm in trouble it was worth it." It's the only thing my tongue could manage for fear of betraying me of all my secrets. The silence didn't suffocate me for once; I was too lost in my kaleidoscope of memories to even notice.
"Oh, where has Little Miss Wayne's mind gone?"
Alfred's voice beckons me before I feel the cold rushing in to greet me. Wait…Tim's jacket. It's still hugging around my shoulders. I never gave him back his jacket. The thought is pushed away as Alfred stretches out his hand expectantly.
"Nowhere…and everywhere, Alfred."
Even in the faint glow of manor I can see his half-hearted smile warming his old cheeks as he helped me out of the car. "Careful, you might wish to be this happy all the time." He warned, letting the sound of my shoes chase us inside.
Even as the warmth of the house begins to work off the chill that's still clinging to me, I couldn't help but stare up the stairs. "He's not really mad at me is he? I mean, for being out so late that Jezebel took a cab home."
"Perhaps if Master Bruce knew what made his young daughter so delighted, he may not mind. He's only unreasonable ninety percent of the time." Feeling the jacket slide from me I can't stop the sudden shudder that worked its way up my spine, I'd grown so used to it that now I felt bare without it.
"Ten percent chance of survival is better than zero." I murmur, feeling my limbs pull me up the stairs before my head could decide against it.
Despite her light feet, he could still hear her coming. Didn't she know that he came to recognize the soft patter of her feet, no matter how big she'd gotten? It wasn't like she left little footprints leading from the door to his chair anymore. But once he knew something, it was hard to let it go. Even if the carpet was bare he could still remember the path her nervous feet would take. No, he couldn't let that go. He would never let that go.
"Dad?"
Letting his coat rest on his desk chair, Bruce turned to the voice, hesitating at the young woman who was leaning against the doorjamb, her fingers carefully taking the heavy ruby earrings out of her ears. When…when had she become such a lady? How did he miss the transition from the little girl in her nightgown with her books, to this? Closing his eyes all the man could do was sigh, as if it would lift the weight off his chest, but when he found the soft shadows of the office once more, he could still feel the heaviness pressing into his ribs, a weight heavier than Delilah's head had ever been. "Yes, Del?"
"I just wanted to put the earrings back in the safe." She replied braving the faint light as she waded closer to the desk. "I'm sorry if my actions made Jet- Jezebel leave." That?! That's what she was worried about? Jesus, Paige, help me. Help me please. But nothing would answer his silent pleas; he could only stare up at the ceiling, where the shadows conspired over their heads with the remnants of the firelight. With a shake and hiss he forced himself to turn from her. But no sooner had his fingers come to rest on the safe did something come rising out of him.
"I was worried about you, you little brat!" Even in her shadow, he could feel her flinching as he rose to his feet with the empty earring box in his fingers. "You think I'm upset with you over Jezebel?! My daughter was running around the city-"
"Dad, I was okay. I wasn't alone."
"I don't care! This isn't Metropolis! It's Gotham!" There was a moment he wasn't sure if the voice that was roaring out of him was even his. He could feel his hands slamming into the desk, and yet, he couldn't - it was like everything was coming out of him without his consent. Watching her, he could see the veins in her hands go rigid as the color began to rush from her knuckles.
"Oh, come on! I'm fuc-freaking Batgirl -"
"That's different! You're not completely unarmed, or out of my reach!"
"I just went to see Sissy dance, Dad, that's all! Like you didn't already know!" She cried, uncurling her fingers from one of the earrings. Glancing down he could see blood pooling in her pale palm. Snatching her wrist the ruby fell from her bloodied fingers, clipping the desk before it landed somewhere at her feet. "No matter what we did, nothing seemed to go right." Her voice whispered, "We jumped out of the second story window…only to get chased by dogs. And the second we got over the fence, we got hit by the paparazzi." But her father's only answer was to snatch up a wad of tissues and jam them into her palm.
"Stupid kids. Why do you think I never slipped out the back door? Look before you leap."
"We ditched the cameras, and walked straight into Joker territory."
"What?! That! That's what I'm talking about!" He snapped, feeling her fingers curl around his hand as he pressed just a little too hard.
"If it wasn't for Bird-"
"BIRD?! Oh, Jesus Christ, Del." But as the words came charging out of his mouth, he could feel his shoulders sliding in relief. It wasn't like Bird to put himself out there for the sake of others. It only meant that the man knew exactly who Delilah was. And he hadn't told Bane? Or was the man trying to make sure that Bane couldn't use his own niece against him? If that was the case…he wouldn't poison his baby sister. Not if he'd stick his neck out for her daughter.
"It's not him…is it? He didn't hurt Mom."
"No…he just brought trouble to her door, even if he didn't mean to. So you were able to get out of that mess?"
"Yeah, barefoot or not I still managed to beat their asses to the train." She murmured, letting him rescue the other earring from her hand before she dropped it too.
"The streets of Gotham…barefoot? " The man bit down a curse as her pale pink lips twisted into a silly little smile. She was so proud of herself. She could've been- "Wipe that God damn smirk off your face. It's not funny." Watching her shrink back, Bruce had to force his jaw to relax. "I told you this isn't a game." He said, watching her duck to retrieve the fallen gem, or maybe she was ducking just to avoid him. But when he his eyes finally found her pale face, the smile was gone. She wasn't Batgirl tonight…she was just Delilah Wayne.
"Dad…I don't mean it like-"
"I should have taught you better." The words eased out of him, as soft as a sigh and yet laden with regret. He could see something swimming in her eyes, unsaid words or thoughts, but she gave him nothing but silence as she set the earring back on the desk, leaving them both to frown when they realized a chunk of the stone had chipped out.
In the space of a couple heartbeats, he watched her cheeks fill up with air, only to deflate. "Oh no…" Her hands were trembling. "Dad, I-"
"It's just a gemstone, Del." The words came out so evenly it surprised him. "It can be fixed…replaced." He murmured plopping the jewelry back into its rightful box. "You…can't." At that he slid the box to the side to let his head rest into his clasping hands. "Understand?" He waited until he could see her shadow forcing a nod before he finally cleared his throat. "This won't happen again. Will it?"
"No, Sir."
"You're not to go anywhere without your phone. I call, you answer. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir." One heartbeat, and another, and here they were staring at each other with so many words hanging between them. He couldn't…he just couldn't. With a groan the man let his head slide into his hand.
"Go to your room. Don't come out until I say." The girl turn and fled like she had be pardoned from a death sentence, and yet without even looking he could feel her lingering in the doorway.
"Grandma was right…" the words tempted him to lift his gaze from the darkness of his lids. "Even though it was probably one of the worst nights I've had in a long time, it still turned out to be one of those nights I don't think I could ever forget."
"Room. Now. You ridiculous princess of Gotham." Listening to her footsteps, Bruce Wayne simply groaned, as he pulled himself from his chair, letting the firelight draw him closer and closer. "Del!"
"Yeah?" Well, that was quick.
"Did you run a test on a clay sample?"
Peering at the doorway he could see her leaning into the frame as if it were holding her up. "I had Damian run a check on a sample I found last night. He was the only one who could sneak into the cave without Jet noticing."
"Where?"
Even if her body was mostly covered by shadows he could see her nails digging into the doorframe. "You found something else didn't you? What'd you find?"
"Del this is important-"
"Dad!"
"It's a match for Clayface. I want to know where the hell you were!"
"The site of…your fall." As the words slowly tumbled out of her mouth he could see her glossy eyes growing larger as the realization began to sink in. "Holy shit. It wasn't Jason." It only took a single breath for her to start darting down the hall.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He snapped, poking his head out the door to make sure she stopped right then and there.
"The cave? " Nice try.
"Last I checked your room wasn't in that direction."
"Dad!"
"NOW!"
Watching her twist around and storm back toward her room, Bruce could help but hang his head before stealing a glance at the unwavering gazes of Thomas and Martha Wayne. "Don't look at me like that. She's your granddaughter." A granddaughter who could be absolutely right, but where did that notion come from? The bigger question was…why would Clayface pose as the Red Hood? What did he have to gain from it?
Sliding into that familiar space of books and pictures, bits and bobs of her life, Del sank into her reading chair, more than aware that the red high-tops on her feet had worn blisters into her heels. Funny, the sidewalks of Gotham had almost been kinder to her.
"What'cha got, Jax?" She crooned to the dog who was happily chewing on a massive rawhide bone with his rust colored paws up in the air. Strange, she didn't give him that. Working the new shoes off her feet, she wiggled her toes into the cold hard floor, aware that the single heel was resting in her lap. Just what was she going to do with it? Keep it, because you're half ridiculous. A ridiculous princess of Gotham indeed. Shaking her head the girl rose to her tired feet, not minding the swish of the skirt as she ambled to her desk…only to stop halfway when she realized that a familiar brown leather Jacket was resting on the back of her chair. In two bounding leaps, she found her boots sitting in the seat. Jason. Jason had been there.
For the briefest of seconds she peered back at the lazy Doberman. "Easily bribed, I see." She crooned, noticing something new sitting amongst the chaos of paper on her desk. "He was just kissing your butt so you didn't bite him again." She said to the dog, as she lifted the small white box. With slightly uncertain fingers she pulled away the thick red ribbon, curious to find a small card stuffed on top with just a single word written in the emptiness. Sorry. Peeling back the thin piece of cardstock, she could see the shimmer of silver hiding in its shadow. A small birdcage with an open door…and a snowflake? So, you do remember…
With dog pressed into her side and a rambling mind, all Del could seem to do was stare at the shadows on the ceiling. her brain only wanted to wander back through the streets of Gotham, or up into the catwalks of the theatre, or even back into that faint light on the sidewalk, where she had all but forced Tim to dance with her as the street performers played. Somewhere between these thoughts, she spotted the light of her phone lighting up the darkness as if were signaling her back to reality. A text? She didn't recognize the number.
So…how much trouble were you in? Tim?!
And just how did you get my number? Grounded until further notice. You?
I have my ways. :D A little surprised you answered. Old man's still in shock I think. Not grounded…yet.
Oh? Really now? He had ways? More like he probably stole it from Dick's phone. Crafty little Bird Boy.
Can't sleep.
Damn insomniacs. How's the feet?
Better now that you're not stepping on them. ^.^
Ouch. Excuse me while I'll crawl off to find the burn cream.
Del could feel the laugh building before it burst, sending waves of sound into the darkness. It was enough to make Jax lift his head and stare at her as if she'd lost her ever loving mind, but she gave the dog nothing more than a pat on the head as she stared at the soft glowing screen.
How's the cranium?
Doesn't hurt anymore, no thanks to your hard ass head. ;)
I'm stubborn, what can I say? Hey...Tim?
?
Thanks.
No prob. I recorded the performance. You want?
YES!
Sent. So how mad did Bruce get?
Oh…he was mad alright. Just not the way she expected. He called me a brat. Lol.
Wha?!
You made me worry you little brat. At least I know he cares about me enough to worry.3 Feels kind of nice. I'm grounded! I should be sulking or something. Your dad wasn't mad?
Hell no! I get in the car and the first thing he asks me is: So, did you kiss her?
OMG! WTF did you say?!
No. But not from a lack of trying.
For a long moment all Del could do was stare at the words on the screen, feeling her blood crawl up her face in the glow. Oh, no…what could she say now? Did she want him to kiss her? Yeah. Before she could even get a conscious thought together, something else jumped up in that bright green bubble.
Told him about us smacking our heads together on the train. He said we deserved it. It's embarrassing, but it's probably the best conversation I've had with him in the last two years. So, I have you to thank for that.
Good. I mean you're welcome!
Yeah…and how much did you tell your Dad, huh?
I omitted things…or else it would have been super awkward. He may not kill you, but I'm pretty sure he'd hurt you, right after he puts me in a nunnery. It'd probably be good if Damian didn't learn anything either. Dick? He doesn't have any room to talk!
LMAO. I forgot about that. Him and Barbra. . He doesn't read your texts does he?
Why? Little birdy scared now? ;) I delete everything.
Nah. Just don't want things to get weird with them just because I tried to kiss you. Fail.
Epic.
What'cha doing tomorrow?
Exercising the birds at Gotham Animal Park. You?
Lunch with Dad. Shocker, right? And patrol with Dick and the demon child. I'll see if I can get the old man to take a little visit, if that's not weird of course. When will you be out there?
8-noon.
Shit. You need to go to sleep, don't you? I'll try to pop in. Night.
Night!
Night.
So it was going to be like that huh? Night.
Night :D
Night ^.^
Jesus, go to bed you freaking insomniac. G'night.
Actually…it's 2am so, yeah. Good morning!
You're not getting the last word. Good night, Del.
Challenge accepted. Good morning. :D
Stop texting me, Woman! Go to bed. :) Night!
Stop texting me back!
Stop giving me stuff to text back to!
Stop sending me messages that I'm going to reply to because you keep replying!
I think you just broke my brain. On that note, I'm going to bed, because you won't. Night.
Not my problem. Night.
Oh, for fucks sake! You win! GOOD NIGHT!
That's right, Bird Boy! Nighty night. :D
Psych!
Brat!
Look who's talking! :D
At least I know he cares about me enough to worry. Out of all the lines that came to life on the screen, his eyes kept traveling back to the same one. "You seem more melancholy than usual, Master Bruce." As Alfred's lilting words rivaled the echoing squeaks of the bats, the man could only let his hands rub across his face as the old butler's shadow gently pressed forward, letting his own face grow slack. "If her little words hurt you, Master Bruce, then I suppose it means you still have a heart somewhere in that body of yours." He stated, swiping the half empty coffee cup from the top of the computer.
"Have I been that distant?"
"Yes."
The single syllable seemed to make the man flinch. "Way to hold back, Alfred." But Alfred Pennyworth only seemed to smirk as he topped the cup off.
"I've never done so with you, Sir, nor will I ever." He said setting the mug in front of him. "You've always implied that you adore her in your own way. That works on the boys, but I suspect your daughter wouldn't mind actually hearing it once or twice in her lifetime. It's not going to kill you, no matter what that mind of yours tries to tell you." He said, not even batting an eye as the cave seemed to roar to life with the sound of the Batmobile. "Face it, Bruce. Your little girl may be like you in many ways, but she is ultimately her mother's daughter. Thinks with her head and feels with her heart—something you're very shy to do for yourself."
"She's almost sixteen, Alfred, what've I been doing all that time?" Leaning back, he could hear the sound of Dick and Damian's feet scuffing the well-worn floor, but he couldn't even turn to look at the shadows.
"Is sixteen. Or have you forgotten what today is?"
"No…I haven't forgotten." He murmured, feeling his fingers fish for the small shell that was hiding in his pocket. He could remember every single moment he had with her. Perhaps for the rest of the world, the moments should have blurred together, bookmarking only the best and the worst, and yet he could remember every single second. From the stolen seconds at the office when he'd find a very chipper little girl sitting a Paige's desk, to the feel of her weight in his arms when he uncurled her from the backseat of the car and carried her up the stairs in her blood stained nighty—he remembered it all.
How many times had he stood there in the doorway, watching her fingers twitch in her sleep? How long had it taken him before he could actually step into her room to put her head back on her pillow or to put another blanket on the bed? It took some convincing to allow himself to enjoy her happiness. He never wanted anyone waiting for him at the end of the night. And yet, having his daughter crawl into his lap with her books, or finding her curled up on his chair, it only affirmed his purpose. To protect the innocent, even if they didn't see him as a hero. At least she did. And even after all this…she still hadn't waivered. That had to be Dick and Alfred's doing.
"I've got something for you to wrap your head around, Boss." Even as he felt Dick's heavy hand resting on the top of his chair, Bruce didn't pull his eyes from the soft glow the screen as he watched the monitor fill up with text a few lines at a time.
"So apparently-" The words seemed to stagger out of the man's mouth as he leaned in. "Is that what I think it is? Are you seriously reading her text messages?!"" He asked, pulling back the cowl. "Isn't that overkill?"
Bruce let his fisted hands fall from his mouth. "If you ever have a daughter, you'll understand." He murmured, leaning back in his chair, as Dick reeled himself back in. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dick's mouth forming into a slow smile before the sound of a chuckle began to peel out of him.
"What a little flirt! That's almost cute." He crooned, wincing when Bruce's hand connected with the back of his head. "Hey, I said almost."
"From what I've read. you haven't got any room to comment." The man grumbled, turning the screen off completely when Damian tried to press in.
"Let me see."
"No."
"It's not like I can't figure it out on my own, you know." The boy warned pulling back his hood as he stalked away.
Shaking his head, Bruce only reached out to lift his mug. "So, what do I need to wrap my head around?"
"Five dead clowns."
The coffee went down hard, scorching a trail down his throat. We ran straight into Joker territory.
"When was this?!" Damian snapped, ripping off his cape.
"You were doing surveillance. Didn't see the point in interrupting you."
Bruce let the cup hit the computer with a thud. "Did any of them have claw marks?" He asked, watching Dick's dark eyes grow larger.
"A few. But it's the bullets to their heads that killed them." Dick said evenly, eyeing the man. "How did you know about the claw marks?"
"A pair of dumb kids decided to sneak off to theatre. They ran into some trouble along the way…trouble that Bird helped them get out of."
"You're kidding." But as Bruce just leered at him, the young man only sighed. "Okay…not kidding. Wow. Bird, huh? Bird's not a nice guy by any means, I know he can use a gun, but I don't think he killed them. Especially when the caliber matches the guns Jason prefers…unless you want to tell about someone else who has a grudge against clowns." Dick added, setting a small glass jar beside the man's mug.
The spent round rattled, making the sound of metal hitting glass echo through the cave as Bruce lifted it up. Why was it everywhere Del went, Jason was sure to follow? The thought made his gut clinch. Even if Jason hadn't caused his fall, it didn't make the thought any easier to swallow down. He had to be following Delilah for a reason—and whatever it could be, it didn't feel like a good one. What did Jason know that they didn't? "He's been following her."
"Yeah, if you think about it, he's been following her for months." Dick said quietly, letting his ungloved hands fall from the back of his neck as he moved in for the keyboard. "At first…I thought he was just mocking her…" He added, as he pulled up a slightly grainy video of Delilah's pole climb. "I guess you could say that's when it started." He muttered, watching her harness slide to the ground. "So the question is why would Jason follow Del around?"
"I don't know, Grayson, why do assassins shadow people?" With the pair of them looking up at the boy, they could only see his smirk crawling across his face as he leaned on platform's banister.
"He wouldn't. Sure they didn't get along as kids, but that doesn't mean-"
"Only an idiot like you would believe that. He's shot her before, hasn't he?" As the words tumbled from Damian's lips, he could see his father's face growing darker. Oh, didn't Father know? Tch. Serves them right. He knows now. "I don't know what he's doing; this is sloppy for the league of assassins. I wouldn't trust him."
"Who said anything about trusting him?"
Keep her safe…and happy. Somehow the sound of his own footsteps couldn't chase Paige's last words from his head. I know this wasn't what you had in mind, but I'm trying. Dodging the lighter shadows the man ignored the soft groan of the heavy oak doors his feet had dragged him to. His own mind didn't seem to think about the path he was taking, had he worn out this floor that much? Had he come to know the color and creases of this hall better in the darkness? Passing open doors he stopped at the last set, aware of how familiar the curved handle felt in his hand. With only a soundless breath he let the door slide open, showing him a room bathed in the stark bands of dying night.
Ignoring the subtle rumble of a dog's growl, Bruce slid into his daughter's room, lifting a hand to the dog that had all but taken up the entirely of an unmade bed. A bed that was vacant. He had barely noticed the Doberman's silence as he let his gaze travel over the shadows of the picture frames to the body that was slumped at the desk beside the bed.
Even in this dull light he could see the smudges of pastel powder on her fingertips. Her giant headphones were still on her head, humming some soft winding melody into her ears, and yet…she was out cold - sleeping with her pastel dusted cheek pressed into the desk. Reaching over her, he lifted the piece she had pushed aside, letting the faint light from the windows shine on the soft curves and rigid lines that had taken up the paper—the view from the train… staring at it only made something in his chest ache. So this is how she saw Gotham.
Setting the heavy paper down, he carefully untangled the headphones from her head, letting the air soak up the soft notes of something soft and vaguely electronic. Setting them down carefully he could see the dog's dark eyes shining at him as his hand gently shook her shoulder. "Del…" Sure she probably succumbed to the lull of sleep only a couple hours ago, but that was her own fault. "Hey, Kid. Wake up."
He heard that waking hiss before he saw her pale blue eyes peek out from behind those dark lashes. Only when she lifted her head did his hand fall from her bony shoulder. "…Dad?"
"Let's take a walk. Dress warmly, there's snow on the ground."
"…it's early." She groaned narrowing her eyes at her dust covered fingers, before she let them slide to the alarm clock by the bed. "It's only 4…"
"You didn't have a problem with that sixteen years ago at 4:40 in the morning." He said softly, watching her sit up as his words began to sink in. What? Did you think I didn't know? He hadn't known it right away, but at 4:40 in the morning of November 12th his life had changed forever. "There's coffee." He added, giving her another shake before he turned for the door, forcing Jax to follow him with a sharp whistle. "Ten minutes." He called, straining to hear the sound of her exhausted staggering. "She texted that boy all night didn't she?" The dog only answered him with a yawn and a stretch. "That's what I thought."
Did she have the slightest clue where her father was leading her? No. Ducking under the ice heavy branches the girl had no choice but to wade in her father's deep footprints, trying not to wonder over the silence that stretched out between them. And even though she hadn't uttered a word from the moment they had slipped from the manor, she knew he heard every little noise she made, from every staggering step, to each bitten curse, and yes, even the hiss of her inhaler. "I haven't seen you use that in a while." He said, forcing her to realize that he had stopped and was simply watching her.
Del grimaced as she let it slide back into her pocket, forcing her lungs to fill with the thin bitter air. It…it was almost empty. If he knew…he wouldn't let her-"It's this wind." She whispered, paying no mind to the touch of the snow on her cheek as she hurried to close the distance between them. "Where we going?"
Bruce pried his eyes from her pocket; it wasn't unusual for the cold to make it hard for her to breathe. When was the last time she'd seen the cardiologist? The man felt his lips falling into a frown, he couldn't even remember! "Almost there. Tommy's stopping by today, do I-"
"I'm fine, Dad." She grumbled at him, not even trying to shrug him away when he caught her neck with the crook of his arm. "Though I distinctly remember you saying there was coffee." She said into her scarf to stifle her yawn.
Way to change the subject. "Right here." He said, showing her the dangling thermos. "I wouldn't lie about coffee. Though if you hadn't stayed up all night texting with Tim-" The body pressed into his side seemed to go as stiff as the frozen trees. "What?" he asked, dragging her forward when her feet seemed to tangle together.
"You-you-you read my texts?!"
Even as she buried her head, he could see that red flush creeping across her wind bitten face. "Even the ones you deleted."
"DAD!"
"Did you and Tim really smack your heads together?"
"Oh my god! You did! You did read my texts!" Then he…then he saw…
"I'm Batman, you little brat, or did you forget?"
For a long moment, nothing slipped from either of them, even as Bruce paused there in the grove of trees, watching their breath slip into the paling darkness in thin white clouds. Without any warning he twisted the girl around until her body slammed into his chest. When was the last time that he hugged her? Two years ago? "…but I'm also your father." He murmured. "A father who is really, really bad with words." He added, feeling his gloved fingers tangle themselves into her hair.
"I know…" She answered, letting her arms grip around him as far as they would allow. "Or did you forget that we covered that already?"
Staring up at the clouded sky, Bruce was sure if the pressure on his chest was just her head pressing into his ribs, or if that was a chuckle trying to claw its way out. "You know…you know that I…how much I…"
"If you make me cry I'm gonna kick you." It came out like a warning, and yet she could only continue to dig her fingers into him as if she were afraid he'd suddenly melt into the snow. And even if she wanted to hear the rest come out of his mouth, something was telling her to be merciful. "I love you too." She whispered, feeling his chin resting on the top of her head as he all but squished her into his chest. She could almost hear that steady rhythm of his heart over the sound of his voice.
"So back to my question-"
"I'll answer that if you tell me how Mom figured out you were the bat."
"Really now? Is this how it's gonna go?"
"Really."
Watching that grin brighten her face, he could help but shake his head at the girl. Letting his arms fall away he steered her back on course. "Deal. But you're up first." He said, watching her lift her gaze to the sky as small red breasted birds took to the air.
"Yeah. He leaned in to kiss me just before the train stopped." She said, cupping her mouth with her fingers. "It was horrible! We smacked our heads together so hard I'm shocked we didn't end up with a couple goose eggs." She said, watching her father's lips twist. "Don't laugh at me!" she cried, swatting him in the arm when the rasp of his chuckle began to leak into the air.
"Serves you right."
"Yeah, yeah….still glad I went. I rode Grandpa's train for the first time. And I saw Sissy dance." So did Damian, but she said nothing about finding the littlest Robin perched in the rafters. "You should've seen it. It was really good. They turned it into this ballet crossed with a light show…Sissy totally stole the whole damn thing."
"Mouth, Young Lady."
"Sorry. Hey…you think they could perform at the party on Saturday? " She asked, sliding out from under the weight of her father's arm to hop on a giant boulder that rose from the snow covered ground.
"I thought she and her aunt were moving up to Metropolis that weekend." He said, watching her stretch out her arms as she hopped effortlessly from one stone to the other, leaving no mark but a boot print.
"It's a college troupe. The same bunch that Sissy's mom used to work with. She choreographed the show just before her health took a turn for the worst. They invited Sissy out of respect." She said as she twisted about. "I think if someone asked Miss Maddox nicely…someone with a little more clout than little ol' me…"
"Okay, okay, but I make no promises." Bruce said holding up his empty palms. "I think the kids would enjoy that."
"Kids? What kids?"
"The kids from Gotham Children's, Paige for Parents and Quest Kids." He said, peering over his shoulder when his daughter had all but paused. "I figured if we're going to fill the house with a bunch of fat cats, we might as well see if we can get them to open their wallets for your favorite originations. And since we couldn't turn our noses up at your beloved classmates, I invited the girl's from that gym you partner with and your old choir group. You might as well see some familiar faces that actually like you."
"Really?!"
"I just hope that the whole fairytale thing isn't too…"
"No, no, Dad, that's…perfect." Did he know her better than she thought he did?
"I'm trying to make this as painless as possible, but you know this goes with the territory." He said, watching her leap to the ground.
"Speaking of things that are expected of us…I wanted to ask you something." She said, taking up residence at her father's side once more. "What happened to the trains?" The words seemed to root him to the earth.
"The property was bought up while I was away…" He said slowly, knowing full well his daughter knew where to fill in the blanks. He was training at the time. "I've gotten a great deal of the property back, but there's a silent party in the mix that still has a hold on some of the key pieces. And they're not willing to sell no matter what amount I've put on the table."
"And you don't have an inkling of who they might be?"
"If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He said plainly. "Why are you asking?"
"I'd like to see them restored to the way they were. Actually, it's not just the trains, it's a lot of things…or hadn't you noticed lately that Gotham's crumbling in more ways than one?" She asked as she gently tapped him on the head.
"It's not that simple Del. Do you know how many plans come across my desk for new parks or condominiums or whatever else-"
"That's just it, Dad. I don't want to demolish anything if I can help it. It's not like I want to displace people out of their homes to put up something new. I want to save what's already here. And if it something that's beyond saving, turn it into something useful for Gotham. Can't we partner with the historical society and the arts association-"
"Okay! Okay, slow down." Her father said with a sigh, shaking his head as if he were two seconds away from admitting defeat. "Here's what I want you to do, if you're so fired up about it, come up with a few small projects we can start on, give me a full report and we'll go from there. Small, Del. I know you just want to jump right in, but people don't respond to change very well."
"But-"
"Especially the people of Gotham." It's not like he couldn't understand. It's not like he hadn't been that ambitious at the start, that he hadn't looked at this city and saw all the things he could try to save, all the things he could try to change. But that's the strange thing about change. It doesn't come fast or willingly.
Perhaps that would be something she'd have to learn over time. But as Bruce stared at her all he could see was that fire glowing in her eyes and nothing he said was going to extinguish it. "It's not impossible. It's just one hell of an uphill battle." But that's all she'd ever known, right? One uphill battle after another? He had tried so hard to keep her from the path his life had taken, and somehow…in a strange way it had followed something just as similar. What else could he do but prepare her for battle?
"I either love a challenge, or I'm just a glutton for punishment."
"It's a bit of both, Kid, trust me."
Even as her feet found the slush ridden road, Del was still trapped somewhere in those early hours, letting the coffee cup burn the pads of her frozen fingers as she listened to that soft rasping voice spin a tale about a woman who had enough insane courage to drag the infamous Batman into her apartment. And that was after she had watched an all-out bat bashing on the nightly news! This was same woman who made a promise to hide his face as she stitched up his busted head.
It was only fate that had brought her to the Wayne interview room. Well, that and a bit of guilt. After all, he caused her to miss her interview earlier that day. "You know how detail oriented your mom was." Her father said to her, nursing his cup as the light began to break through the clouds. "I didn't realize I had made a pattern of calling in on days following an appearance of a bat signal. She did." The man's hand gently touched the tip of a jagged scar that ran up his temple. Few knew it ran through his hair and nearly to the crown of his head. "She just happened to touch that scar when I finally decided to kiss her. She knew then and nothing I said would convince her otherwise."
Del couldn't help but to smirk into her cup. "Who better to hide your secret than the head of the Wayne Enterprises PR department?"
"Oh, the irony." Bruce scoffed. "Your mom was the first person I ever kissed." No sooner had the words slip off his tongue did the teenager next to him almost spit out her coffee.
"What?! Now I know you're lying."
"Nope. We were probably seven and eight years old. The Devereux's own that white cottage on the Cul-de-sac."
"Wait, why am I just now learning about this?! Dad-"
"Because no one's been there in the thirteen years. I'm sure you've been inside a couple times…you just don't remember. Haven't you been reading those letters at all?!"
"HEY!" Any thought of the dull light of the sun, or the soft rasp of her father's voice was dashed the second something cold and wet began to slide down her cheek. The next the she knew, she was back on the street with the remnants of a snowball falling to her feet. "Go after your dog, you idiot!" Damian's words had barely begun to echo the snow dusted roofs when the girl realized the leash was hanging limp in her hands. Jax was nothing more than a spot of black fur against the colorless backdrop, a black speck that was hot on the trail of a bushytailed tree rat. "JAX!" Despite her yell, nothing stopped the dog from leaping over the fence of the white cottage there on that dead end street. A house she had passed regularly without a second thought, but now?
Her head wanted her to pause, wanted her to stop and try to recall this place from the dusty edges of her memory, and yet her legs were willing her forward. Or maybe she just didn't want Damian to reach Jax first—she'd never hear the end of it. There's a car in the drive…people in the yard. And despite all her resignations, her legs were still pulling her forward, closer to the pair who was stopped there in the driveway with grocery bags.
"I'm so sorry! Jax get back here!"
"My word, she looks like Miss Paige, doesn't she, Beau?" Del's hands were shaking so bad that Damian literally yanked the leash from her, giving her no choice but to stare up at them as Jax trotted over to the boy. The old woman simply simpered and took the sack out of the man's hands, shaking her head the entire way to the door.
"You do look like your Mama." Beside her she could see Damian's shadow grow rigid. Even he was staring at this tall hazel eyed man, but maybe not with so much uncertainty. "You don't remember me, do you, Little Bit?" No. He didn't look familiar…but that drawl, that thick drawl…she had heard it before hadn't she? But that seemed so far away, tucked into a night made of soft hissing arguments. A night she couldn't remember clearly, say for the fact that her mother had taken her right from the strange bed she had just begun to fall asleep in.
"Your voice…I know it, but I-"
"Well, I couldn't expect you to remember everything now could I? You were about as big as a June bug last time I saw you." He said easily. "Uncle Beau, your mama's favorite uncle, if I do say so myself." He added splaying his paw of hand across his chest. "You're not here to see the old dragon lady are you?"
"She's here?" The words came out before she had a chance to choke them down, but Beau only raked his hand through his dark brown hair.
"Afraid so." He said with a hollow sigh. "If it's Gigi you're after, you best follow me." Without even looking back she could see Damian's shadow twisting as if he were about to lead Jax in the other direction, but without thing, her hand reached back letting her fingers curl into his slender arm. With a roll of his eyes he followed after her.
I know this room. For a long moment, Beau Devereux let the girl take in the main room, watching her eyes scale up the walls that were completely with photos. She let her gaze travel the winding banister above their heads. "There was a Christmas tree in that corner…" The words seemed to unfold from her tongue without her. It was enough to make the man raise his eyebrow.
"Ah, she does remember something." He said his long mouth curling into a wide beaming smile. "Let me see if Gigi is out of her meeting. Feel free to look around." Watching the man climbed the winding stairs, she turned to the wall, aware that Damian already had his head tilted toward the wall.
"Dragon Lady?" He asked giving her nothing more than a sniff.
"Demon's head?" Scanning the unfamiliar faces, Del tried not to pry as the house came alive with thick laughter and the tangling vowels of a southern accent. "Baby Cakes, ain't nobody got more sass than me."
"Bitch please! All you've got is a Scarlett O'Hara thing, and you got that from Gigi!"
"Oh, hush it you two, I've got both your asses beat, and that skinny-ass grandmamma of yours too- Oh, my, Miss Wayne. Isn't that right?" Whirling on her heel, Del could only blink up at the older woman she had seen in the driveway. But now there were a couple of girls staring from behind her, their eyes as wide as a deer's. They looked older than her, maybe closer to an age between Barbra and her mother than her own.
"Oh-"
"It's not Saturday, send her away."
"Oh, come now, Mama, she's -"
"Do not make me repeat myself, Beau Devereux. Get rid of her."
As the the last echoing tremor finally slid from the air, Del felt her gut fall to her feet. What was she supposed to do now? Run for the door? Pretend this never happened, or that it didn't feel like she had been stabbed in the chest?
Del could feel someone's fingers curling into the sleeve of her coat. "Let's go. We've wasted enough time."
"Just a moment. Please..." Damian's fingers may have fallen from her arm, but not even Beau's voice could erase the look of disdain that had soured his face. Even as the man came to fill the space beside her, he was still glowering. "Gigi's still wrapped up in her meeting…I'm sure you know how that can be."
"I heard her clearly. I've only waited sixteen years…what's a few more days?" Del could only hear the stifled gasps from behind her; it was enough to get the man to turn to the small collection of onlookers.
"Not today girls, now go on." The words weren't unkind, but there was a certain firmness hiding in his tone.
"I think she's got more sass than the two of you, now what do you say to that?" The old maid teased.
"Cousins. You'll have to excuse them." But as the girl scanned the pictures again, she found his words sliding from one ear and out the other. There, smiling back at her with her dark hair fallen all around her, and her hands held out was her mother. But what was that wrapped around her hands? A snake?
"I see you found your mama." The man said gently, plucking the frame off the wall. "That's back when Paige worked with the venom response team." Venom response team? Mom?! Watching the girl go ashen, or how the young boy with her only peered intently over her arm, he reached for another photo. "I take it you didn't know?" He asked, showing her the photo of a much smaller version of her mother posed with another young freckle faced girl. "That's your mama of course and that little thing is my Ava. This was taken maybe a couple days before she died." He said gently. "We were camping and the kids decided to go off on their own. We thought nothing of it, really. We'd been in that area so many times before." The words seemed more for him rather than the ears of the Wayne children. "Ava slipped during one of their hikes… tumbled into a rattlesnake den. She was bitten a little over a dozen times."
"Rattle snake bites are rarely fatal."
"Damian."
"No, no. He's right. If the bites are treated right away, that's usually the case. We were in such a remote location…help came too late." He said softly, his blunt fingers rubbing the frame. "It was just a freak accident with the right circumstances. Ava and Paige were always joined to the hip, but after that…I think it inspired your mama. She didn't want to see it happen to anyone else. She interned with them during her med school years…and then she just suddenly stopped. She never did say why, I think she was too embarrassed or ashamed to say. Especially to me." He said, setting the frame on top of the one in Delilah's hands. "You take those, Little Bit."
"Gigi won't mind?"
"Hell, that old dragon won't even notice, and if she does it'll be too late now wouldn't it?"
"Really now, what do you care-"
"I'm just saying he was being nosy as hell-"
"Oh, stop sniveling and leave that insignificant whelp to me."
Twisting their heads to the sound of the voices floating off the stairs, Del froze watching a thin wraith of a woman pause at the top. Her sharp eyes looked her up and down as if she were appraising a statue. Suddenly the woman's gray head snapped toward the hall as if whoever was with her was about to reach the stairs. Del had barely caught the flick of her wrinkled hand when Beau literally shoved the siblings out the front door without so much as a word.
"What the hell was that?"
Feeling the cold wrap around her, Delilah could only stare. "I-I don't know." She muttered, blinking at the bright red door that had just slammed in their faces. "I think you're right." She sighed, clutching the frames in her hands to her chest. "We've wasted enough time." But even as the Wayne children started back down the road, Del found herself still thinking about the Devereux clan. Just who was the dragon lady with? And why didn't she want to be caught with the Wayne children in her foyer?
