The four heroes emerged one-by-one from their small shelters. Jason and Tim had taken refuge behind the batmobile. Bruce and Shayera had thrown themselves off the edge of the platform and were now hanging from Bruce's grappling hook. Well…Bruce was hanging onto the grappling hook, Shayera was holding onto him. "Well, that went well," Shayera sighed in relief. She looked up at Bruce, not realizing just how close their faces were to each other. Pressed chest-to-chest, Shayera was sure Bruce could feel her heart thumping in her chest.
Dangling from a platform with Bruce could be quite romantic if it weren't for the screeching bats who were upset about being disturbed and the stench of rotten eggs that was Lobo's insides. However, everything began to fade as Shayera got lost in Bruce's blue orbs. No, no, no, Shayera, she mentally berated herself, you are not supposed to be thinking like this. It's is a bad idea. Shayera glanced down at Bruce's lips as her brain screamed Abort! Abort! Her body had a mind of its own. Just when she was about to kiss him, they heard a "Bruce! Where are you?" Tim was calling for them. Shayera immediately leaned away as Bruce retracted the grappling gun, pulling himself and Shayera to the top.
Once he was safely on the platform, Bruce reached down and pulled Shayera. "I didn't need your help," Shayera frowned.
"I know," Bruce smirked, and he did know. He helped her because he liked seeing her flustered. "Oh, gross!" Jason exclaimed, interrupting the staring contest between Bruce and Shayera. "He's everywhere," Jason continued, "and he reeks." Shayera fought the urge to plug her nose. Turning to Bruce, she asked, "What now?"
"We call J'ohnn," Bruce said as he began to walk away. Shayera followed him off the platform while Jason and Tim argued over who was going to clean Lobo up.
Instead of following Bruce to his computers, Shayera walked over to Lobo's bike. Switching off the motor, Shayera found what she was looking for. Her sword. She knew Issi would give him something with Shayera scent on it. "So predictable," Shayera tsked. Issi always did covet Shayera's sword. Shayera grabbed it with a sigh and walked over to Bruce.
By the time J'ohnn arrived, a hand and a foot of Lobo's had reformed. "That is so nasty," Jason said, staring at it from afar. "I am never going to sleep again. Ever."
J'ohnn brought with him a medium-sized, clear box. "It is made from a material found on Mars," J'ohnn explained. "I will put him in here until we are able to transport him to the Watchtower." Bruce gave an affirmative nod. "I think I'm going to be sick," Jason said as he watched the Martian Manhunter mentally place the pieces of Lobo in the box. "Yep," Jason said, "I'm going to throw up." He immediately ran to a garbage can and puked.
"You're ridiculous," Tim said reentering the batcave with Alfred. "Alfred and I finished assessing the damage," Tim turned to Bruce. "The good news is – the manor is still standing. The bad news is – we no longer have a billiards room or a dining room. We are going to need a new front door. The floor in the foyer is all scratched up from his wheels. The kitchen is in pretty decent shape," Tim finished with a smile.
"Hardly," Alfred crossed his arms, "the only thing still standing is the refrigerator."
"We should take care of the front door first," Bruce said.
J'ohnn walked over to the small group. He was holding Lobo in the box. "Whenever you are ready, Bruce."
Bruce quickly grabbed a sweatshirt and threw the hood over his head, effectively covering his eyes and nose. Only the founding members of the league knew his identity, and he planned to keep it that way. "Tim, Jason, do something about the front door," Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce kept talking, "Shayera and I should be back in a couple of hours."
"This sucks," Jason groaned, "I want to go back to sleep."
"The sooner we figure out the door situation, the sooner you can go back to sleep," Tim said turning on his heel. Jason mocked him as he followed.
The three leaguers and Lobo appeared in the Watchtower. Superheroes stopped what they were doing to either glare or gawk at Shayera. She slowly lowered her eyes to the floor in shame. "I'll find a place to put Lobo as he regenerates," J'ohnn turned to the two heroes, "and then I'll summon the other founding league members. John is still in deep space. It may be a few hours before he returns. You both should shower and get some rest." J'ohnn then turned to Shayera. "I am sorry, Shayera," he said, "but your room has been given away."
"It's okay," Bruce spoke, "she can bunk with me."
"Wow," Shayera said upon entering Bruce's room. "This is what Batman's room looks like at the Watchtower." Bruce turned to her with a smirk. There was one queen-sized bed, one dresser, one closet, and one vestibule with a shower. "Wow," she chuckled looking around the room.
"Not what you expected," Bruce stated while rummaging through his drawers.
"Oh no," Shayera said walking deeper into the room. "I totally expected this for Batman. It's Bruce I didn't expect." He said nothing as he turned around holding one of his black long-sleeved shirts and a pair of pants. "Shower first," he said holding the clothes out to her. He was in Batman mode now.
Shayera took the articles of clothing from him. "At least this time you don't have to worry about me tearing your shirt because I no longer have my wings," she tried to say jokingly with a small smile, but her voice cracked at the end. Sorrow and pain replaced the playfulness in her eyes. "I really thought I had made peace with…" her voice trailed off as her eyes became teary. Bruce lifted a hand to comfort her, but Shayera turned towards the bathroom and said, "I won't be long." She brushed past him without another word.
"Shayera," Bruce called. Shayera stopped but didn't face Bruce. "Ignore them. There's no reason for you to feel ashamed."
"You're wrong," Shayera said right before shutting the door.
After finishing his shower and dressing, Bruce exited the lavatory to find Shayera sitting up in bed, staring out the window at the stars. Bruce sat opposite her. "You want me rest somewhere else?" he asked.
Shayera turned to him with a peculiar expression on her face. "Bruce," she said, "this is your room. If anyone should leave, it should be me." Bruce 'hmphed', holding her stare. Shayera looked away first, turning her eyes back to the stars. She felt the bed dip as Bruce crawled under the covers. "Try to get some rest, Shayera," he said softly.
Shayera looked at him again. "Bruce, you don't have to worry about me. I'm okay."
"Really?" he asked, his blue eyes piercing her green ones. "Are you?"
"I'm tougher than I look," Shayera responded somewhat offended.
"I know you're tough," Bruce gave her a small smile. "I have never once doubted your physical capabilities. I am worried about your emotional state of being."
"Batman wants to talk about feelings?" Shayera scoffed with a skeptical brow.
Bruce rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. "Healthy emotional regulation shows great mental strength. When your emotions and mind work in tandem, your body and soul begin operating in harmony with each other. Healthy mind; healthy body. Someone who is at war with themselves is not someone I want watching my back when we're out in the field. Are you at war with yourself, Shayera?" he turned to her.
Shayera shook her head. She couldn't believe it. "This is such a weird moment," she muttered. These past four months, Shayera had seen a completely different side of Bruce. It was a bit unnerving if she was honest. That was probably why Batman's identity was so hard to guess. Batman was shrouded in darkness; Bruce Wayne wore a little of his heart on his sleeve. He smiled; he laughed; he joked; he flirted almost all of the time. This was new territory. Shayera wasn't sure she was ready to have a heart-to- heart with Bruce Wayne or Batman.
"I've learned a lot about you these past few months," Bruce replied when Shayera said nothing. turning back to the ceiling.
"I could say the same of you," Shayera responded as she climbed underneath the cover.
"Yes," he said. Shayera could sense him smirking. "I have been showing you the part of myself only Alfred knows about."
"The overtly flirty side?" Shayera mocked turning to look at him.
"The side who cares," Bruce said turning back to her, pinning her with his gaze. Shayera's breath caught in her throat. "You think if you evade my questions, I won't be able to find the truth. A tactic that has worked in the past. What you don't know, is that the less you say, the more I learn." Shayera swallowed thickly. "Would you like to know what I have learned about you?"
"Don't psychoanalyze me," Shayera said with a huff, turning away from him. Unfortunately, much to Shayera's chagrin, Bruce was feeling especially chatty, because he didn't let the conversation end there. "You are strong-willed, more so than me. You have a strong outer shell. Deep down, way deep down, you do want people to see the real you. The woman behind Hawkgirl."
"What? What are you on about?" Shayera scoffed. She couldn't believe it. "You're projecting. Hawkgirl is something Earth humans came up with because…I don't know…I resemble your hawks. Hawkgirl doesn't exist. She was created by humans. She's a Thanagarian in a bird mask. Nothing more."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Well, one more thing," Bruce said. Shayera felt the bed move before feeling hot breath on her ear. Bruce whispered softly, "I know when you're lying."
Shayera whipped around, but Bruce had already rolled over. Shayera scoffed. No way he knew when she was lying. She didn't have any tells. Her mother had made sure of that.
Fourteen-year-old Shayera sat strapped to a chair, gasping for air. They had been at this for hours. "Come on, Shayera," her mother said. "Issi passed with a perfect score. Your younger sister is out-performing you." Shayera tried to silence her heavy breathing, but she couldn't. She was being asked a series of questions, and based on her answers, if her mother caught her in a lie, she was electrocuted. Only two other Thanagarians were in the room. One was a medic, monitoring her heart and blood pressure, the other watched the lie detector. Her mother controlled the shock and the voltage.
Just now, at this precise moment, Shayera realized her mother was a sadist. While her father never shied away from disciplining her in public, her mother's abuse was done in private, like now. The two soldiers wouldn't dare speak of this torture session…ahem…training session.
Tears began streamed down Shayera's face as she continued to answer mindless questions. She was in so much pain. "All those years intensively training you, this is what Talov has to show for it," her mother said in disgust, "a daughter ruled by her emotions. Tu ignominiam. Pathetic." Her mother asked another question. Shayera answered. "That's a lie," her mother pointed out. However, just to make sure, Che-yara turned to the soldier monitoring the detector.
"It is a lie," he stated. Shayera braced herself for the pain that followed, pursing her lips together to keep from screaming aloud. Her mother rattled off another question. Shayera answered weakly. "That is not a lie," her mother said. The soldier nodded once in agreement. "Control the twitches in your face, Shayera," her mother said in exasperation.
Shayera was trying, but it was hard. None of the techniques her father taught her were working. (She had made the mistake of saying that out loud several hours ago.) Shayera blinked the sweat out of her eyes. Her mother asked her another question. She answered. "Lie." Her mother said in exasperation. The soldier nodded once again. Shayera inhaled deeply, waiting for the pain. It hit her hard, but it didn't stop. Her mom was holding the button down. Only when the medic began speaking frantically, did her mother release the button. It was too late. Shayera was on the cusps of a seizure. She felt a great burning in her chest. It felt like her heart and lungs were on fire. The medic immediately unstrapped Shayera while her mother rattled off directions. Shayera couldn't breathe. The medic shouted something, but his voice sounded far away. The last thing she saw before her body broke into a seizure, was her mother shaking her head in disappointment.
Shayera's eyes shot open. She was staring into bright blue ones. "What are you doing?" Shayera gasped, ignoring her racing heart.
"You're awake," Bruce breathed in relief. Shayera sat up slowly. Bruce was wearing his uniform. The only thing missing was his cowl. "You were shaking and flailing in your sleep," he explained.
"Was I having a seizure?" she asked.
"I thought so at first," Bruce stood up. "I turned you on your side, but there was no foaming of the mouth. You didn't lose control of your bowels. I figured you were having an intense dream. I held your arms down so you wouldn't hurt yourself." He studied her intently. "I would ask if you want to talk about it, but I already know the answer. Lobo has finished reconstructing himself. Green Lantern has returned. We are going to question Lobo."
"Okay," Shayera said, not budging. "Why are you telling me this?"
"You should be there. At the interrogation. You may glean something."
"I don't have any clothes, and I am not showing up wearing just your shirt," she stated, crossing her arms.
"I'll find you some clothes," Bruce said, placing his cowl on his head. He walked out of the room without another word.
