He came back the afternoon of the day we buried Amy. And I asked Alfred to promise me. Not to tell him anything. I don't know why. I am still not sure. I didn't want him to worry I guess. So I buried my feelings with her and as he stepped in the great hall, I showed nothing but delight. Oh don't go believe I faked it. No the joy was real and it felt so good. But I was still fooling myself. Blanking my brain out. I believe I wanted Bruce to feel so welcomed that he would never leave ever again. I jumped in his arms and I felt hugged back and, blimey, that was the best feeling in the world. Especially since he gained up some pounds. You know, muscles. He he, anyways. And there the funny part of Bruce's return: I leaned in to kiss him, you know like, a kiss, and he turned that into kissing me on the forehead. And there, ding, I heard the bell of something-is-wrong ringing. I must have looked confused but he grinned at me like nothing happened. He shook Alfred's hand and resumed climbing the stairs to his room while I was left in awe. But not the good kind. I couldn't help but shout at him something like 'So you lacked strength but now you lack conscience?', in retaliation of our last conversation in our… secret spot. Taking off right where we left it. He replied that he needed more time, basically. In substance, he was saying it was a timing issue. So I took it that seven long fucking lonely years were yet not enough, OK, can take that, and I tried to champ at the bit. But then the guy enters my room like there's no tomorrow, I'm reading you see, and he's just taken a shower, and he's only wearing his pants, and he's like, you know, hot, right? And I've been holding everything up for seven years. I mean, I'm a young woman. I mean, you know what I mean? Like my hormones are skyrocketing. I'm seriously on the brink of just, I dunno, unholy womanly things for Christ's sake! And he's standing there, sheepish, not getting it. Grrrrr. Anyway he asks me what's wrong with his clothes. Yeah, as I told you, I gave them to the homeless and replaced with the strict necessary. But I couldn't know he would be so… buff you know. So the trousers were fitting more or less but the shirts… not really. Are you picturing the thing? I just buried my sister, the guy comes back after seven years, rejects me - yeah he did, is all innocent-looking when he walks halk-naked in my room… Well, I am very proud of myself because I managed to explain him, almost serenely, he understood I think and I took some time off to go distribute his again useless clothes in the streets of Gotham. Alfred managed to find some of Dad's clothes that fit him. Mr Wayne was broad of shoulders as I recall. It calmed my nerves, gave some time for Bruce to catch up with Alfred and reminded me of what's really important: Gotham.

So when I came back home and we casually started avoiding the subject of 'us', if there was ever such a subject, we appeared to agree on the Gotham matter. We concentrated on that. Because at that moment, all I needed was to feel in sync with him. We slowly but surely caught up over the following days. But I never got my Bruce back. He was concerned for Gotham alright. But it kinda ate him up. We agreed on everything at bottom. But practically, our visions drastically differed. He didn't discuss the choices I had made for Wayne Enterprises during his absence, thank God, because I think I would have killed him. Literally. He probably would have outweighed me but I would have bitten a bit off his perfect face. Based on the fact that we diverged on how to help Gotham, I resumed my way and he started his from scratch since he had been absent so long. He didn't want us to disclose his return so we did keep it for us. It soon became obvious he needed help for his scheme. So… Weak and stupid as I am, I did give a hand, along with Alfred, not quite sure what to make of all this. He was glad for his Master's return, right Alfred? But it didn't get how it'd expected. I feel you, Al. So Bruce got his feet in the ladder, I developed the background of his project and Alfred was learning from me. Meaning that, soon enough, Bruce asked me to automate the programs I had implemented. Yeah, I am a coder. Gotta problem? So I did automate them. In the meantime, Bruce comes back home with a cute thirteen years old boy and tells me he's adopting him. And I'm like 'Seriously?'. Frankly, I did't know where this was going but definitely not where I had hoped it would. Bruce was so living his life without consideration whatsoever of what others might want or think of it. Dick and I got along right away though. That's not the kid that was the problem. He had lost his parents, so Bruce told me, in murderous conditions, that gave a common ground to everyone in the mansion. 'The house of the orphans'. Nice. We very quickly bonded. I saw in him a mini-Bruce at first. He was a lot like him, to be honest. It was weird. We developed a relationship where I would jump from mother to sister to friend. I was trying to bring up that kid but also to find in him what Bruce wouldn't give me anymore. In that, I think I've never been closer to anyone but Dick. He was… He is my everything. Will always be. In a way that is purely indescribable.

And that's where Bruce dropped me. Completely. And let's face it, coldly. Because you need to hear this: by then, his return had been officialized, he had taken the reins of Wayne Enterprises, casting his shadow over everything I had done. Not that I cared, oh no, that's what I wanted. For him to receive the praises, let me work in his shadows, fine with me. But he was playing that celebrity role. I dunno. He would go out. Do the things I had forbidden myself to do in his absence. He went to parties and brought back girls. I was like 'Really? Really you're going there?'. I think I was stuck in this no-feeling-land where I was tired of being trampled upon, not even scared of what could come next because seriously, I had nothing left to lose, losing any bit of hope I could have held onto. For Bruce and I, I mean. If not for Dick and Alfred, I'm still not sure what I would have done that night. Yeah because one night, not only do I realize the automation of my program is complete, that Alfred knows everything he needs to know and that Dick even learnt it all so nobody needs me here on a technical level let's say. But Bruce comes back home with a… slut, I'm sorry, I've got to say it, she was a big stinky whore that one. And he's so drunk that he misses - how can you do that seriously? - his room and comes crashing in mine. They literally fell on my bed, on me. And they were all, you know, doing their thing. So I obviously said something. And the bitch goes like 'Oh c'mon, there's plenty of rooms in here, just get your ass out this one, it's ours'. Oh. My. God. Like, oh my God. Can you imagine? I went berserk. Inside. Pffff there was nothing to say really. I was of strictly no use around here. So I gathered my stuff and I left.

I crashed in our downtown flat. Yeah Wayne family owns several appartments, here and there in Gotham. I don't like the idea of holding accommodations that could be useful to someone else but it's a bigger thing than that. We buy old places, we spruce them up and then put them back on the market at a lower price. I tended to selecting the most deserving people for the past years. So I just crashed in whatever one we owned at the time. It was still undergoing renovation, not feeling quite like home, but I was closer to the office and further from Bruce. And I survived. You know. Feeling a bit lonely. I was missing Alfred and Dick a lot. But they'd come to visit. Dick would even stay overnight with me more and more often. Alfred would cook me his succulent vegan quiche. That sounds fancy but nothing compared to the taste. Like you don't know until you've had it. And Bruce… Well, he popped up at the office the day after his 'mistake'. I had warned my assistant - a great girl I picked up from the Narrows, Elsa, I call her Zaza - and asked her to not let him in. But I heard him in the corridor going all 'What's the name of your employer Miss? Wayne, right. What's my name? You got it. So let me in!" gna gna gna Mister-Big-Booty-Boss. He stormed like seriously, as if I was the one at fault you know. I just kept on working. I'm really good at pretending I don't see or hear what's around me. I close myself in that concentration bubble. My brain still processes and I can consult later, a bit like a surveillance camera. But at that moment, he was non existant. He apologized. Oh yes, he did. But his tone was nothing but contempt. I didn't as much as open my mouth. He's not a great talker either anyway. So he stood there, waiting for a reaction. He dared say I was overreacting. I almost flinched but I didn't. Wouldn't give him that victory. He must have stood there, I dunno, ten minutes before understanding the bridge was broken. Well, I think he didn't realize how much pain he had caused me since he was back. And for one thing, I can't blame him entirely. After all, I didn't tell him about Amy and we didn't really have an open-heart discussion about his return and his… project for the city you know. I thought it was unnecessary because if he couldn't guess how I was feeling, like he used to when we were children, then there was no use. So he just exhaled, again like I was being stubborn - well maybe I was but, yeah I was - and said something like 'If you ever need me, you know where to find me.' and he left. I knew where to find him alright.

So of course, I kept on working for Wayne Ent. I was still a Wayne. It didn't change that. So it was awkward at times. We would meet in the labs, in receptions. I would try to be professional and if I really had to talk to him, I would, with an extremely flat, maybe cold voice but, we managed to head Gotham the way we both wanted I guess. Bilaterally. Whenever I could avoid him though, I really did. Now that I think of it, he didn't. I mean, he was not trying to be where I was, on purpose you know. But he was doing his thing, not minding if I would be around. I guess I saw indifference in that. And it still ached. And I felt stupid for aching. And I was trying to fight the feeling. What I would have given to stop caring. But anyway, there was a lot going on and that kept my focus elsewhere, which was good. Well, or not. Gotham development was going well, also because the Batman was well established by then and the scum was being cleared and we, as an enterprise, were leaders in urban renovation. But that brought a lot of attention onto us. Onto me in particular. Bruce would show up to grab the donators' checks, occasionally answering journalists' questions. If she was hot and doable. Duh. But I really became their front face. Running around town to present the projects, supervise constructions, seeking the Police whenever corruption would as much as surface. And corrupted folk didn't like me so much. And I seemed a far easier target than Batman you know. I have some training. I can handle myself. Against two or three guys. But at some point, that did become a problem. And also, since I was living by myself and now emotionally totally free, I started going out, experiencing what a normal girl of my age's life should be. I made friends. And where you make friends, you make enemies. I started revolving in the music milieu and industry. Amy had left a big hole there. Her suicide had shocked and she had been raised to an iconic figure. I followed her steps. I was missing her badly and I felt this could mend all these gaps in my bloody existence. So I sort of had these two public faces, being targeted for one, for the other, for no reason. Gotham was backlashing at me. Big time. Over the five years following my moving downtown, I lived in eight different flats. They either exploded from criminal attempts or I had to put them off my scent. For a wolf, that's ironic. Speaking of wolves, I did grant myself some vacations now and then. I would go back to my forest, strip down and live like a beast for a week or two. That was refreshing. I would shut my brain off, felt protected within the pack. So when things turned from bad to worse, I did return to town with two brother wolves. That gave me quite the reputation in the circles of Gotham. Dick nicknamed me Faolan. It comes from Gaelic, old Irish. And it means 'little wolf'. I like that nickname. But, before you try it, be aware he's the only one whom I accept it from, you're warned.

And speaking of Richard. He was nineteen I think when he left Bruce as well. And now, I'm the one with the issues right? From what I understood, he got tired of Bruce's coldness. Well, that's funny, isn't it? Same as me: he agrees with the general plan for Gotham, we all want the city to regrow from its ashes, but that doesn't imply we must forget ourselves and become, you know, someone else. And I guess, Dick had learnt everything he could and wanted to stand on his own two feet. Alfred told me he also reproached him what he did to me. But that's none of my business. So, one night, he shows up at my door, asks if he can bunk here until he finds something of his own. Being honest, he could have gone to any other Waynes flat. He's family after all. But being as close as we were and knowing I had gone through the ordeal, he needed me. And it felt good to have him around. Like, really good. I did feel whole for the first time in a long time. Since Amy, really. We started working together. If you don't know, Dick is from a circus family. His parents were very famous acrobats. So the guy's got some artistic and show sense. Which was opportune since I needed a dancer for my show. Music industry, remember? I was producing myself and others, giving concerts, still trying to contribute to Gotham life, arts level. Business woman the day, entertainer the night, trying not to sleep too much. Sleep giving my brain too much time to ponder. Dick had a night job that kept him away quite a lot but we would be on stage every evening. I felt safe with him around. And I'm not ashamed to say that we started dating. To be fair, to myself, I was ashamed at first. Reluctant, even. I mean, I felt the unease you're probably feeling too. I was a substitute mother for the kid. Our relation was ever so hybrid. But in the end, I am 'only' ten years older than him you know. And he is something. The last missing step, the one I kept postponing, was to address that obvious physical attraction. Well he took that step I admit. He's got that much guts. One day we had that talk where he asked me why I kept pushing him away. I was totally oblivious to the real meaning of his affections - and he was delightfully affectionate, trust me - so that startled me. My initial answer was what you're thinking of, you know: the age gap, the influence I had on him. But he wouldn't have it. So the tone turned up and I did a good old Bruce Wayne. That's how I call a mistake where you hurt someone you love, using what they entrusted you with. I went like 'Dude, the first time Bruce kissed me, you weren't even born!". I facepalm now but I really didn't think before talking on that one. It was true. When we were maybe twelve, thirteen, we went running in the wild, Bruce and I. And the classic scene where we found a slope and thought it would be funny to roll it down and I ended up on top of him and gave him a smooch. Well, that happened. Disgusting, I know. Wishy-washy. But that should have remained a memory. Instead Dick took it right in the jaws. But he's a strong lad. You know what he did? He said 'Oh yeah?', he kissed me, like it ain't no thing, the most passionate kiss I had had so far, and Sir Grayson punctuated it with 'And did he ever kiss you like this?' with a piercing blue stare. Impudent Coilean. That's how I call him. Well, the answer was no. And he's filling my life with laughter for almost three beautiful years now.

In the meantime, I don't know if you'd heard, but Bruce had gone missing. Don't ask me where he'd gone. Probably left with a blonde, or some more travelling the world in case he missed a spot the first time. Wayne Enterprises needed some maintaining so we shared the load. But Dick took the heaviest part on him. We still suffered from recurrent attacks and vendettas. The weird and the psychotic unleashed from hell. It was impressive. Crazier and crazier and the assaults were more and more personal. I got my ass saved by the Batman here more than once. And that little bird Nightwing too *winks to him*. Nice guys. A little broody but hey, they did prevent me from dying on more than one occasion. What? Oh no it didn't really affect me, that Bruce was lost. I mean, he was still my brother. Legally. So I would at least play pretend. But he is a big, big big guy. And he had left before. Seven years. Still recalled. So I was not worrying. Being with Dick subsides a lot of anger towards him. Not all of it but I am pacified and I can now talk about it without getting itchy. You know, the five steps of mourning, this pile of crap. Bruce came back some weeks ago. Before the Joker went on his rampage. I went to check on him. Maybe, I wanted him to know that I was happy now, with Dick. I dunno. Might have been an unconscious taunting too. He was a little taken aback. Guess he didn't see that one coming. I left him speechless but for an irritating doubting of the solidity of our couple. And that, of course, enraged me. Who better than Bruce can arouse that annoyance? Because that's what Bruce Wayne does to me: he makes me question myself so that I'm always better. He turns that bad horrible nagging of his into a wonderful rebirth of oneself. Fuck this man. I love him. Shit. So I left the premises a bit disorientated and that's when Jack caught me and… that's how I got here! Tadaaa!