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Making the Best of It
Chapter 14
True to both their words, Alfred returned to the manor the following Monday. Bruce didn't seem to notice. Diana on the other hand, greeted the older man.
She bombarded the older man with a few inquiring questions. "How was your vacation, Alfred?"
"Oh, it was delightful! Paris was such a nice place to visit this time of year," the man gushed. Inwardly, he was surprised the royal was unaware of the reasons toward his 'vacation'. Apparently, the master of the house decided it was best to keep it between the two men instead of letting the lady know of what transpired.
Personally, that was favorable to the butler. He did not want to incur the Amazon's wrath.
"What did you do?" Diana desired to know.
"Oh, visited some old friends and saw the Eiffel Tower and a few museums," he replied.
"Oh, that sounds lovely," the dark-haired woman gushed lightly. "We should take Elissa to Paris when she's older. I'm sure she would enjoy it," the new mother considered.
The older man was inclined to agree with her. "Yes, it is a pleasant place."
The rest of Alfred's return went off without a hitch. Bruce barely recalled why the older man went on vacation to begin with. That wasn't true. He remembered. But ignoring the reason was the only way for him to overcome this hurdle in their relationship.
And while the billionaire forgave the closest thing he had to a father. Their relationship was now tainted with doubt and suspicion. Bruce was now suspicious of the older man. He would forever be uncertain of Alfred for the rest of their lives.
Their lives went back to normal. Diana was still on maternity leave with only a few weeks left. Bruce had the grandfather clock fixed and spent some time with his daughter when Diana was not tending to her.
Alfred went about his duties around the house. Damian, occasionally popped in. Usually when Bruce was out. Things still were not the same between them.
He regarded his sister with curiosity. She didn't cry when she saw him. She didn't scold him for his improper ways or his attitude. She just stared at him. With those blue innocent unblinking eyes. She didn't smile at him or squirm in her crib when he stared down at her.
She just sucked on her pacifier. And that was all it took for Damian to care for her. She didn't judge him, nor offer alternative criticism. She merely saw him for him and that was enough for the infant.
She trusted him.
And one day, she would come to love him as he loved her.
It wasn't long when peace and normalcy in the house of Wayne, once more turned to tragedy.
Gotham General Hospital
Alfred hovered over the hospital bed like a praying angel. Last night, Dick Grayson, Nightwing, was shot in the head atop of police headquarters with Batman and Commissioner Gordon several feet away.
Gordon's reaction was immediate, requesting for an ambulance instantly.
Batman, on the other hand, was frozen. He recalled what led up to the gunshot. Dick was talking, cracking jokes when his head jerked to the side, blood shooting out of the side of his head. And then he fell to the ground with a thud.
The man couldn't react. He was unable to process it for a considerable amount of time until Gordon started shouting at him, as he tried to put pressure on the wound.
Gordon's calls pulled the vigilante into action. He pushed Gordon aside, pulled Nightwing into his arms and took to the air.
He radioed Alfred, whom called Leslie, whom had Alfred rely to him, to get Dick to a damn hospital!
Batman tore his son's uniform off him and his own and placed a nine-one-one call. Concocting a story of a fake mugging.
It helped that they were positioned not far from Gotham General.
Doctors immediately got the wounded man into surgery. Almost thirty-six hours passed when the surgery ended. Dick lost bone, blood, and cerebrospinal fluid.
Having survived the surgery, the doctors were now waiting to see if the young man survived the bullet. He was suffering from severe vascular swelling, but the doctors were optimistic, although not profoundly. It was all in Dick's hands now.
"How is he?" The butler flinched, startled as Diana, in her Diana Prince guise, stood next to him. Doleful, the woman observed the young man fighting for his life.
"They say the next few hours are crucial," older man responded, downcast, his gaze glued to yet another fallen son.
Sadness still etched the woman's face, while she was hopeful as the rest of them, Dick wasn't the one she meant.
"How's Bruce?" she asked softly.
"I don't know. I lost contact with him hours ago. Honestly, Miss, I am fearful of what he might do," he confessed, facing the woman.
"I fear that Master Bruce will return a broken man. Not in the injured sense but mentally, spiritually," he spoke, fright on his face.
"I think he is going to kill the man that shot Master Dick."
Compassionately, the woman embraced the older man, comforting him silently. "I don't belief that," she refuted. "He'll come back a little worse for wear, but he won't lose himself."
Alfred pulled away from her, "You don't understand. You didn't see the look on his face when he started on the trail. I haven't seen that look since Master Damian's death."
"And while I wish it were me that snuffs out that monster's miserable life for what he has done, I cannot in good conscious condone Master Bruce's hand in it."
Diana placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder, "He won't," she said comfortingly. She was sympathetic and understanding to Alfred's dilemma, as well as Bruce's.
She turned her gaze back to the wounded man. His head wrapped in heavy gauze and bandages, a tube down his throat assisting in supplying oxygen.
She too, was inclined to feel the same as Alfred, her warrior heart rearing its head, but that would not do. Should she be the one to take the KGBeast's life, it was not for justice. It was revenge plain and simple. And she refused to be that type of person. She knew Bruce struggled with himself in that same dilemma.
She didn't want to be that kind of person. She couldn't stand for one thing and uphold another that corrupted the other. Elissa deserved a mother that was just and loving.
Bruce, she was unsure of how he would come out from this.
Alfred noticed that Diana was missing something, or someone. Someone that was almost glued to her side. "Where's…?"
The Amazon smiled, "I asked Donna to watch her," she said simply. She smiled at the memory of asking her fellow Amazon to babysit for an hour or two so she could be at the hospital. She remembered the panicked look on Donna's face when she made her request. The older woman reassured the younger dark-haired woman that the baby was asleep and would be for the next few hours. There was a mix of worry in the younger woman's face when she heard about Dick.
"She wanted to be here, but I asked her to be patient and let me come and see if there was anything I could do," she explained.
"All we can do now is wait," the older man grimly returned.
Somewhere in Siberia
Batman strode through the snow, its frosty chill cutting through his insulated suit. He refused to stop and rest. He had been on the hunt for over a day. He had been in Russia for hours, the wind chill cut his exposed chin like glass, but it did not impede his pace.
Anger and vengeance fueled him, spurring him on.
Nothing would quell his rage. Nothing but the Beast!
He started his investigation like any other. But it wasn't. His son was shot. Right now, he was fighting for his life. For all he knew in that moment Dick was dead. There was nothing he could do sitting by a hospital bed. Sitting helplessly as Dick was at death's door.
This was all he could offer him. Some form of justice.
Business as usual.
The formidable climate tore at his suit. Superficial cuts on his right bicep and left thigh. Climbing equipment hung loosely from his belt. An occasional wolf attack as he dragged himself through this hellish place.
He recalled on how he managed to get here. He traced the trajectory of the bullet that pierced Dick's skull to an apartment complex not far from police headquarters. He discovered a dead man in the apartment from where the shot was taken, a quick search discovered him to be the super to the place.
The rifle was left there as a calling card. The shooter intentionally wanted Batman to know who shot his son. And hoped he would fall into despair when he was unable to track him down.
The shooter didn't know Batman very well.
He traced the rifle to a gun shop in the city. The owner having sold to unsavory group of people so long as they can pay the overnight fee ignoring any background check of any kind. After a lengthy interrogation, Batman had a description.
Bald male with Russian accent and a prosthetic left hand.
KGBeast.
Batman searched the airports and discovered the Russian had entered the city via Archie Goodwin International Airport.
The dark clad man identified the shooter but now he needed to track him down. A few contacts managed to tell Batman that the Beast still had a father. To which, the vigilante pursued in the hopes Anatoli Knyazev's father would have a location for his son.
Which brought him to a place of ice and snow.
It was hours after the sun had set when Batman had come upon a small cottage. Lights and the smoke from the chimney made him believe someone was home.
He trekked towards the cottage, vengeance on his mind. Snow crunching under his footsteps. Retribution in sight. He was too focused on taking down the Beast, he didn't bother to check the area for traps.
He concluded that he needn't bother. The area was secluded enough that no one would bother the owner nor survive the journey to arrive at the cottage in these conditions.
He walked right to the door; his hand hovered over the doorknob. He hesitated, his mind calculating the risk.
"Beast!" he shouted over the blistering winds.
He was answered with a gunshot, piercing through the wooden front door, missing his head by centimeters. A volley of bullets quickly followed, forcing the dark clad man to duck for cover, one of the bullets nicked his right bicep, an indistinct grunt deafened by the snowstorm.
The KGBeast continued to fire until his semi-automatic weapon was empty. A noise from behind, made the assassin look over his shoulder to the locked window behind him.
A batarang shattered the window, with the Russian assassin blocking with his prosthetic hook arm, the dark projectile embedding itself into the wood.
A scowl formed on KGBeast's face; his eyes narrowed focusing on the silhouette through the broken window.
After identifying Batman was attacking him, angrily the Russian leapt through the window attempting to tackle the man and tear him apart with his bare hand and hook.
Another batarang cut through the air, slicing the man's face, a pained grunt escaped him, yet remained unimpeded. His feet crushed the snow as he landed in front of Batman unaffected by the attack. He tackled the vigilante to the ground his hand on his throat, squeezing the downed man's larynx, in an effort to strangle him.
A dark boot threw the assassin over the dark clad man, crashing into the snow, the momentary pause gave Batman a chance to get back on his feet. Seizing the moment, Batman prepared to attack the other man, only for the Beast's reflexes to up the ante.
Swiping with his hook hand slashing the left eye from Batman's cowl, revealing his incensed blue eye.
The vigilante countered with a left cross connecting with the Russian's face. However, he was unaffected as he returned the favor against Batman.
Batman stumbled backwards slightly, only to stubbornly tackle the man to the ground, while he was dazed, Batman delivered a mighty right jab to the downed man's face, indignantly the Beast retaliated.
Slashing into the vigilante's side with his hook, a cry of pain escaped the masked man, he tried to whack him in the face only for Batman to capture the hook in his hand, he grimaced as he pulled the prosthetic limb away from him, delivering a painful headbutt to the assassin's face.
The Russian pressed his foot into the masked man's torso and pushed forward, shoving him backwards.
"You… cost me my island," the assassin growled, hatred dipped his words as he recalled how the vigilante humiliated him and cost him his own dream when he was contracted to hunt both Batman and Two-Face.
"That's why you shot my boy!" an enraged Batman exploded from on his back.
"Part of it," the man smugly confessed. He came up on him and delivered a swift kick to the dark clad man's chin.
Panting, KGBeast delivered another kick, knocking Batman's head backwards. Relishing the man's suffering, he stomped on the beaten man's chest, a wheezy gasp left him as the blow landed.
Feeling his sternum cracking under the beating, subtlety, Batman reached for his belt. Another blow racked through his body, almost losing his hold on his grapple gun, air leaving his lungs, vision blurry.
Finally, as KGBeast eased up on his attacks, Batman saw an opening. Firing his grapple gun, the hook collided with his chin, a sickening crack echoed into the night, as his head knocked back.
The Russian plummeted to the ground with a heavy thud. "My… my neck is broken," he weakly realized.
Batman seemingly ignored the other man as he stumbled to his feet, beaten and bloody, his body was weary from the fight. His chest ached as he was fairly certain his sternum was fractured.
"Yeah, "the masked man finally acknowledged the assassin. It didn't appear that the man's life was in danger.
"Help me and I'll… tell… you… who… hired me," he suggested. His body unresponsive, it was practical to assume he was completely paralyzed.
Batman grimly stood in place, contemplating the offer. It was news to him that Anatoli Knyazev was hired to shoot Nightwing. He was under the impression that this was revenge driven. He pondered the offered further as the snow fell upon them.
His lip trembled as he was overcome with frustration and anger. Finally, after what felt like days, Batman spat out blood from his mouth.
"I'm hurt, and it's a three hundred klick walk back to civilization, through snow and ice," he wiped his chin. "I figure out who hired you. I'm sure you had an escape plan or at least some sort of transport. Help yourself," he refused. "Might want to hurry, before the wolves come attracted by the blood," he advised, walking off.
He soon put distance between the men. It was hours later, when Batman had almost reached civilization when he heard a helicopter in the distance, heading in the same direction he came from.
Wayne Manor
Bruce returned to an empty home, he deduced everyone was at the hospital with Dick. Which left Bruce to tend to his wounds alone.
He limped up the grand staircase to retreat to his room and rest. He didn't want to call anyone and inquire into Dick's condition. He didn't believe he could take it. Especially, after the last few hours.
He passed Elissa's room, his footfalls as silent as ever, only somehow, Elissa cried from the nursery. The dark-haired man came to an abrupt halt upon hearing the cries.
He pondered whether to enter or not, wondering if the baby would just fall back to sleep. Seeing as how he had not seen his daughter in almost two days, he entered the nursey, the baby's wailing louder inside the room.
He came upon her daughter's crib, observing his baby girl's scrunched up red face, as hot tears trickled down her face.
Even with all the chaos and darkness in his life, Elissa seemed to always shine some light into it, by merely existing. He smiled faintly, picking her up and holding her close. "What's the matter, little one? Hmm?"
She answered the only way she could. More crying.
He softly shushed her. "Easy, princess," he uttered carrying her to the changing table, only to discover that she was clean.
"What's wrong, hungry?" he prompted. With a sigh, he brought her downstairs and straight to the kitchen, retrieving a bottle.
He faintly wondered where Diana was. When the bottle was ready, he gave it to Elissa only for her to refuse it.
"What's wrong, princess? Hmm? Don't you want it?" he softly bombarded the infant, only for her to snuggle closer to her father's chest.
It soon dawned on the man that his daughter wanted him, not to feed or change her but to hold her, and possibly in her own way make him feel better.
At first, Bruce was stunned and was about to dismiss the notion, until Elissa yawned cutely, her little fingers gripping his shirt weakly, returning to sleep.
It was at that moment, that he knew he was right. She wanted him—she missed him.
"I missed you too, little one," he whispered to her, pressing his lips lightly to her forehead. Suddenly, his body stiffened, feeling another pair of eyes on him. He looked up and saw Diana standing in the doorway.
"Hey," she said softly, a small smile on her red lips.
"Hi."
"Are you okay?" she asked in concern, walking over to him.
"I'll live," he grumbled.
Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder, "And the assassin?" you could hear the slight tremble of fear in her voice as the words left her mouth.
"I didn't kill him, if that's what you are asking," he scowled at her, his tone terse and on edge.
"How was she?" his eyes returned to their sleeping daughter.
"She was good," happiness in the woman's voice. "Donna watched her briefly when I went to the hospital with Alfred," she answered. She paused as her face became one of hesitation, "Dick's—"
"Tell me in the morning," he haggardly requested., surprising the Amazon. "Please, just tell me in the morning," he pleaded, upon able to handle anything else at the moment.
"Alright," she whispered to him. "Come," she beckoned, lightly tugging on his arm. "Let's put her back to bed and you could use some rest as well," she reasoned.
"… Yeah. I could use some sleep," he responded, slowly following her back to the nursey.
Wordlessly, he placed their daughter back in her crib with Diana watching from afar. It always brought a smile to her face when the billionaire interacted with their child.
He softly backed out of the room with Diana leaving ahead of him. Both stopped in the hallway, the silence hurting the woman. She wanted to do something. Help them in their time of need.
"Bruce, tell me what you need me to do," she asked him, softly, just above a whisper.
He stared at her with dull blue eyes, the events of the last few days seemed to finally set in. His body trembled, as he broke.
His body crashed into the woman's startling her as his arms wrapped around her waist. After a momentary pause she reciprocated, holding him close, as his body trembled.
It was finally setting in; his son was shot. In a retaliatory attack against him for something he did. And his son was the collateral damage.
"It's okay, Bruce. It's okay," she comforted him. Rubbing his back, "It's going to be alright," she uttered, although if you asked her, she was trying to convince herself rather than Bruce. Since her time living in the manor, she has come to adore everyone here. The fact there was nothing she could do made her heart pang in agony.
Why was his life riddled with tragedy?
He was not a greedy man. Far from it. He doesn't require money, jewels and outrageous estates. Simplicity is comfortable to him.
Yes, his wealth provides for his family and his private war. But he could still do the job just as well on a budget.
He does not want everything. Power means nothing to him. He wasn't Lex Luthor.
He just wanted a little of what everyone else had. He could have that, couldn't he?
Just a small piece of peace and happiness.
It was days later that Dick survived his gunshot wound, only for him to have amnesia. He didn't remember his time with Bruce, as Robin, as Nightwing, or part of the bat family.
Bruce was… devastated. Even Damian, whom, rarely showed up anywhere near his father.
Bruce wanted to drag Dick straight to the manor—to the cave and force the memorizes back into the injured man's head.
But he could not go through with it. Who was he to force him back into a world of tragedy and death? Dick had an out, and Bruce would not force him back into it because he wanted the old Dick back.
Perhaps this act was in some form to appease his guilt for ever putting Dick in the crosshairs of the insanity that was his world.
However, it didn't stop Bruce from getting a second opinion from another neurologist. And they concurred with the previous doctor that the amnesia was potentially permeant.
Barbara shouted at him hysterically to do something to help Dick, but Bruce did what came naturally to him, he took her cruel words and let nature take its course. Ignoring the woman and let the resigned woman leave without another parting word.
Dick, who was now dubbed, Ric Grayson, good lord, didn't recognize anyone. He offered hollow words of gratitude for taking care of him when he was a boy, even though he didn't recall any of it, and for the hospital bills.
He returned to Bludhaven, without turning back.
The Wayne family had lost another one of their own, and the family was getting smaller with each traumatic event.
The only sense of peace and tranquility the billionaire had was when he was with Diana and Elissa. He was envious of how good the woman was with their daughter, most of the time when he tended to the baby he bungled with some of the more laborious actions.
He felt like a failure when Diana had to pause in what other task she was doing so that Elissa was properly tended to.
She didn't mind, nor did she scold or scowl at his inability to properly tend to their child. She always encouraged him, told him that he would get the hang of it eventually. Preferably before she turned one, she would joke, which cracked his stony visage.
While he was a tormented man, someone who has experienced more than his fair share of heartbreak and loss, he was also a man that was experiencing a sense of normalcy—of peace—here in his own home.
He lived with an incredible woman, who had a heart as big as the world. And a daughter, he had no doubt would have the same trait. While his life was filled with strife and pain, there was a beckon of peace in his life.
And it more than balanced it out.
Next: WW Returns! Plus, revenge!
References for the chapter include BM issues 55-57. As well as the aftermath including Nightwing issues starting at 50. Don't worry, i won't be including Ric Grayson any further.
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