"Alright. You ready, Shayera?" Bruce asked as he faced the former Hawkgirl. They circled each other."
"Don't go on easy on me, Bruce," Shayera said.
"Wasn't planning on it," Bruce said with a smirk as he lunged for Shayera. She blocked his attack, only for Bruce to sweep her legs. She landed on her back with a thud. "Ow," she moaned.
"You okay?" Bruce asked with slight concern.
"I'm fine," Shayera said, jumping onto her feet before throwing a series of punches, uppercuts, and elbows. Bruce blocked them all.
"You're a little rusty," Bruce teased, blocking another punch before twisting her arm behind her back in a painful hold. "I remember you being better than this." Shayera expertly released her arm from Bruce's grip. "You used to be as good as me," Bruce mocked.
"Don't worry," Shayera said, holding her fists up, "I still am." She swung at Bruce, who expertly dodged every punch thrown. Shayera swung again – a fist Bruce easily caught. He whirled her around, placing her in a rear naked choke. Her back was against his front, and she froze. She could feel every single muscle in his chest and stomach. Bruce put more pressure on her neck, but Shayera remained stiff. "Shayera?" Bruce asked, relaxing his hold. Shayera returned to reality. She expertly escaped the hold, and before Bruce knew it, Shayera had him in the same chokehold…only he was on his knees.
"Do you yield?" Shayera breathed into his ear. Bruce responded by rolling on the mat, bringing Shayera with him. After grappling on the ground, Bruce got her into another submission hold. His entire body weight was on her. One arm was pinned between their bodies, and the other was locked in Bruce's powerful grip. "Yield," Bruce's breathless voice rumbled deep in his chest.
Shayera felt it on her stomach, in her chest. "Yep," she croaked out. Instead of getting off her, Bruce swung his leg over her body and straddled her. Shayera looked up at him curiously. "You know, this is the worst position to be in. I could bridge and throw you off of me."
"Why haven't you yet?" Bruce all but purred, stretching over her, their faces inches apart.
Shayera held his blue gaze and inhaled deeply. "Good point," she said as she bridged, effectively throwing him off her and allowing her to escape. She immediately jumped to her feet and resumed her fighting stance.
"Good," Bruce said as he picked himself up off the mat. He then walked over to a bo staff rack and grabbed two, tossing one to her. "I know a staff isn't your usual weapon of choice – "
"Don't worry," Shayera said as they began circling each other again. "I know how to use one. Don't go easy on me," she repeated for the umpteenth time.
"I won't," Bruce smirked as he attacked once again. Once again, Shayera found herself on the defensive, blocking instead of attacking. She hated being on the defensive. Hated it. Lunging at Bruce, Shayera's brain began to wander...
"Come on, Shayera!" the 10-year-old heard her father scream at her from the edge of the mat. "Issi is younger and smaller than you! Stop playing defense! Get on the offense! Do something! Stop reacting!" She attempted to hit Issi with her bo staff, but Issi blocked her easily. "Concentrate, Shayera!" Issi swung, trying to hit Shayera in the head, but Shayera ducked and swept her younger sister's feet. Issi hit the mat with a thud. Before she could get up, Shayera had kicked Issi's staff away from her, and she had her staff a few inches from her sister's face. "No! No! No!" her father ranted, stomping up to the two girls. "Why are you stopping?" he demanded of his eldest.
"She was already down," Shayera began to explain.
"And?"
Shayera didn't have a response for that.
"You don't stop attacking until the enemy is dead or surrenders!" her father continued to yell. Once they surrender, you ensure they can never fight again!"
"But Issi isn't my enemy," Shayera said, looking at her younger sister, who glared at her through her mask. "She's my sister," Shayera continued.
"Not in here when we are training. When we are training, you are rivals. Now finish her off!" her father demanded.
Shayera's eyes snapped to Issi's and then back to her father's. "B-b-but," she stuttered.
"That is an order," her father growled. Shayera shakily raised her staff above her head, prepared to deal Issi a final blow. "Now, Shayera," her father said again. But after a few seconds, Shayera dropped her arms and hung her head. Issi gasped in shock. No one disobeyed an order from General Talov. No one.
In the next second, General Talov picked up Issi's fallen staff and began attacking Shayera with all his might. Shayera blocked and dodged her father's attacks, her tiny wings doing everything in their power to help maneuver her. "Only the weak run from a fight!" her father yelled as his staff made contact with her small wrist. Shayera ignored the sickening crack and continued to block. "Empathy is weakness!" He swung hard, his staff connecting with hers, the vibrations from the impact sending a wave of pain shooting up her arm. "I will make you strong!" his bo sliced through the air, barely missing her face. "And when I give you an order, you will obey!" Shayera heard and felt a crack to her skull right before she crumbled to the ground, succumbing to darkness.
"Shayera?" Shayera heard a voice in the distance. "Shayera?" Snap! Snap! Shayera shook her head, returning to the present. Bruce was gazing at her with worry. "You okay?" he asked. Shayera looked around. She was standing with her bo staff up at the ready. "Um…" she said, dropping her weapon. Bruce came and stood right in front of her, close enough for her to see thin beads of sweat decorating his neck. And, wow…what a neck, Shayera thought to herself. "Are you okay?" he asked in concern and confusion.
"I…what happened?" she asked, looking up into his deep cerulean eyes.
"We were sparring. You froze. It was almost as if you were dissociating."
"Huh," Shayera said, taking a small step away from him while awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. "Sorry," she apologized.
"We should take a break."
"No, Bruce, I'm fine," Shayera argued.
"It wasn't a suggestion," he countered as he walked over to a bench and picked up his water bottle.
"I…I'm fine," Shayera argued. "Lobo and the Gordanians are out there. I have to be ready."
"We will be ready. However, you need to take a break. And that's saying something coming from me," he said with a chuckle as he sat down and began wiping himself off with a towel. Shayera glared at him. "Shayera," Bruce frowned, "your entire body is trembling. You're sweating profusely. I can hear how hard you're breathing from over here. I should have stopped at least an hour ago, but I got caught up in…" Bruce stopped. "Shayera, you don't want to push your body," Bruce stated calmly. "You're still recovering."
"I am recovered."
"You dissociated mid-fight only moments ago," Bruce explained, completely baffled. Is this how Alfred feels when I refuse to rest? Huh. "We can continue tomorrow," Bruce said.
"We can continue now," she said.
"Shayera – "
"Bruce," Shayera placed her hands on her hips.
"What is going on with you? I'm only suggesting we take a break," Bruce said as he stood up, trying to make her see reason.
"I don't need a break," she argued.
"Yeah, you do."
"I'm not weak."
Bruce frowned. "Shayera," he said. "I know you're not weak. On the contrary, you are one of the strongest…beings…I know. You know that, don't you?"
"I…I just," Shayera stuttered as Bruce approached her. "I don't want to be a burden," she whispered. "I want to contribute…something."
Bruce gently cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "I know that," he assured her softly. "I think you're tired, and your body needs rest."
Shayera opened her mouth to argue, but the longer she stared into Bruce's eyes, the more relaxed she felt. His eyes promised her safety, security, and a slew of other things she had never felt in…ever. Her body moved closer to him of its own volition. Shayera realized she wanted to repeat what happened two nights ago, but sensibility won out. She slowly backed away from him and said, "You're right. I'm tired and hungry. We should take a break." She swallowed thickly. She automatically began to miss his touch when she moved her face away from his hand.
"Well," he said, giving her a small smile. "Let's see what Alfred decided to cook, shall we?" He motioned to the door with his head.
"I'll be up in a second. I need to go to the bathroom." Bruce nodded before exiting the gym. Shayera walked into the bathroom and sobbed.
