Bruce sighed as he pulled off his cowl. He was so tired, and he had to work in four hours. He needed to rethink this hero thing. "Are you okay?" Shayera asked him uncertainly. Bruce had honestly forgotten she was sitting in the chair next to him. "Just tired," he said.

"I'm sorry I've brought all of this to your doorstep," Shayera said woefully.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Bruce replied.

"I really think I do," she argued. Bruce only smirked at her before turning his attention to the zoomed-in picture on his giant computer screen. "Nice sword," he complimented.

"Mhmm," Shayera agreed. "It was."

"Are your parents dead?" Bruce asked.

"No. They're still alive," Shayera looked down at her hands.

"When was the last time you spoke with your parents?"

"The last time was…" Shayera's voice trailed off.

"Shayera, you're being ridiculous!" Katar dragged Shayera by her forearm roughly.

"This is wrong, Katar," Shayera said trying to dislodge her arm from her fiancée's rock-hard grip. "And where are you taking me?"

"To someone who'll successfully talk some sense into you." He pulled her into an empty, dark room with a circular stage with a circumference of no more than five feet. A hologram of her father appeared in front of her. And he was not happy. Katar left the room, leaving father and daughter to talk. "Daughter," Talov said, "what's this I hear about you having second thoughts?"

"Father, I was sent here to scout Earth's defenses and determine their readiness for a war with Gordanians and other enemies of Thanagar. I wasn't sent here to take part in a hostile takeover. That wasn't the plan!"

"Remember to whom you speak, child," Talov chastised his daughter. "Don't make me regret choosing you for this mission."

"This is wrong. Why are we even doing this? Earth has nothing we want or need. It's not like their weapons or science is superior to ours," she scoffed. "They have nothing to offer Thanagar."

"Their planet is in the perfect spot for a Thanagarian military outpost as well as interplanetary teleportation."

"We're no better than the Gordanians if we do this," Shayera argued.

"It is clear now that you have become way too emotionally attached to these humans. Return to Thanagar on the next supply ship. Your sister, Issi, will relieve you."

"I cannot do that, Father, I'm sorry."

"I am ordering you to return to Thanagar."

"No," Shayera shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"If you do this you will be considered reicio, outcast," her father said, his tone conveying what his masked face did not. Shayera turned to run out of the room. She had to stop this. "You will regret this, daughter," was the last thing she heard from her father.

"Shayera?" Bruce stared at her in concern. She had been staring into the distance for the past few minutes. Shayera shook herself out of her memory. "I haven't spoken to my father since Thanagar invaded, and it's been even longer with my mother," she shrugged.

"What was your relationship with your parents like?" Bruce asked.

Shayera fidgeted in her seat, becoming uncomfortable with this line of questioning. She never discussed this with John, which was just one of the many reasons why a relationship between the two never worked out. But why was Bruce asking? "I was trained by my father to be the next ruler of Thanagar," she stated.

Bruce raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Ruler," he repeated.

"Thanagar doesn't have royalty per se," Shayera explained, "instead of kings, we have generals. My father was the general of Thanagar, and I was his heir."

"You were like a princess," Bruce said.

Shayera's face scrunched at the word "princess". "I guess," she said. "But yeah. I've been training to fight since I could fly."

Bruce smiled slightly to himself as he imagined a baby Shayera flying and wreaking havoc wherever she went. "I can't imagine a father being okay with his daughter being humiliated the way you have."

Shayera shrugged. "It's just how things are on Thanagar. Not only did I defy the General of Thanagar, but I also defied my father, which is just as bad. While those born in a lower caste system have more say over their lives, those born in the ruling caste have little say in their lives. Like arranged marriages."

"Ah, the fiancée," Bruce said.

"No doubt my sister's husband by now," Shayera said with her arms crossed.

"Did you love him?" Bruce asked.

"No," Shayera stated firmly. "But he was always nice to me…up until I betrayed my planet."

"Did you love John?" he asked.

"John and my relationship was built on many, many lies. My lies. The relationship was doomed from the start. It would not have lasted."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know," Shayera said standing to her feet, pacing back and forth. "I don't know what love is or what it feels like. Was there an attraction? Yes. He's a very good-looking man. But whether it was love, I do not know. Why does it matter?"

"So, it wasn't an act?" Bruce asked with a smirk. "It was real?"

"I guess it was real," she whispered, more to herself. "But as I said, it doesn't matter. He's happy. He's moved on. There's no use in dwelling on ifs and maybes. Again, I ask, what does this have to do with anything?"

"Just thinking out loud – attempting to learn more about you," Bruce answered with a shrug. "You were hurt just as much as we were in this whole debacle. Once the team realizes how much you suffered, they'll come around. Relationships will be repaired."

"What if I don't want relationships repaired?" Shayera asked with a scoff.

"You don't mean that," Bruce said taking a step towards her.

"Yeah, I do," Shayera said, crossing her arms, her face a steel mask of zero emotion. Bruce studied her carefully. "And not everyone was hurt when I betrayed Earth," Shayera continued. "You weren't."

Bruce cocked his head to the side, his bright blue eyes staring at her intensely, staring into her soul. "What makes you think I wasn't hurt?" he asked softly.

"Because it's you. You're Batman. You don't trust anyone; you don't form emotional attachments. That's your whole thing." When Bruce didn't respond, Shayera continued. "You mean to tell me you were hurt when I betrayed everyone? We were barely acquaintances."

Bruce didn't respond to that statement. Instead, he said, "You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. And if my math is correct," Bruce said, "you were only about 20 years old when you first met the Justice League." Shayera's eyes widened in amazement. "Making you around 24 at the time of the invasion." To say she was baffled would be an understatement. "How did you…?" Shayera began to ask.

"I'm a man of many talents," Bruce said, his blue eyes twinkling, the corner of his lips shifting upward in a half smile. "You were young when you came to Earth." Shayera didn't know what to say to that. "That's a lot of pressure to put on someone so young." He took a small step forward, to which she responded by taking a small step back.

"It's what I was trained for," Shayera said, folding her arms, trying to appear confident.

"You've got to stop blaming yourself for this," Bruce whispered, taking another step towards her.

"I lied to gain your trust. And then I handed you over to Thanagar. I told them your weaknesses," Shayera said as her back made contact with the railing behind her.

"You didn't know- "

"But I should have," Shayera said turning away from Batman. "I obviously sensed something was wrong because I didn't give them your civilian aliases. Something inside of me must have known that things were not what they seemed. I mean…" Shayera sensed Bruce's presence directly behind her.

"You gave them our weaknesses, but you didn't give them our identity," Shayera felt Bruce's breath on the back of her hair. It felt so good, and she hated it. "You're not a bad person, Shayera. You deserve a life with friends and relationships." Shayera refused to face him. "I have Barry…and – and even J'ohnn," she stuttered.

"And me," Bruce breathed. Shayera stiffened. How did his breath always smell so good? Bruce put his hands on Shayera's shoulders and turned her to face him. Shayera held her head down; her red hair acting as a barrier keeping him out. But Bruce would not be deterred. He cupped her face in his hands and gently lifted her head while softly placing hair behind her ears – and when did he take off his gloves? Shayera tried not to focus on how soft and rough his hands were. "You have me," he repeated.

"I don't deserve you," she said, looking more depressed than Bruce had ever seen her.

"You need to forgive yourself. The guilt will eat you alive if you don't."

"I don't know how," Shayera said softly. "I don't even know who I am anymore. My family has disowned me; I can't be Hawkgirl. I just don't know what to do. It's like when they took my wings, they took my identity, too."

"The wings didn't make you Hawkgirl," Bruce said.

Shayera gave a small laugh, remembering Barry saying the exact same words. "The wings are the reason humans called me Hawkgirl. And I loved being Hawkgirl. I loved saving people," she said as tears began to fill her vision. She wanted to look away from Bruce's soft stare, but at the same time, she didn't. "Without my wings, I'm no one. I'm no hero. I can't help anyone." Her breath hitched as she fought back tears. "I'm not human, I don't belong on Earth, but I can never again set foot on Thanagar again. My life is now meaningless, there is no place for me anywhere."

"There's a place for you here," Bruce said, lowering his head just a little.

"Bruce…" she breathed. She really needed to make him see reason.

"There's a place here with me. And Alfred. And even Tim and Jason. You didn't think I was going to kick you out once you fully recovered, did you?"

"Well…"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. There's plenty of room."

"I can't stay with you forever," Shayera softly argued, wrapping her hands around Bruce's wrists.

"Yes, you can," Bruce asked, his brilliant blue eyes searching her green ones. "I'm offering." Shayera opened her mouth to argue, but the words died on her lips. "Let me take care of you, Shayera," Bruce said. "Let me take care of you," he repeated before lowering his mouth to hers.

Shayera froze…or her brain short-circuited. Something happened, and she lost all motor control. All she could do was stand there while Bruce applied gentle pressure to her lips with his. She didn't know what to do with herself. Her arms had minds of their own as they encircled Bruce's neck. Her lips responded in kind as her soft body pressed into his hard one. For the first time in a while, Shayera felt completely whole and happy. And -what am I doing? she as she felt Bruce's lips begin to part her own, Shayera tore herself away from him yelling, "I can't!" She slowly backed away from him while covering her mouth with her hand, creating distance between them. "I'm sorry," she gasped.

"Shayera," Bruce took a small step forward but stopped when she took a step back. "Shayera," he said calmly, "it's okay." His lips were slightly swollen, and Shayera assumed hers were, too. Her face was probably as red as her hair. "You didn't do anything wrong," Bruce assured her.

"I'm sorry," Shayera repeated, choking back tears. "I need to go," she said. "I'm not ready. " she repeated as she turned and ran out of the cave.

Bruce stared after her. Honestly, he wasn't embarrassed. He had expected a knee to the groin. Her running away was not a bad omen at all. Bruce took it as a positive sign. She felt something for him, and that was a start. He was prepared to chase.