A/N: Hey all just a little note to point out a change in continuity. It's Dr. Thompkins not Thompson. I honestly don't know why I wrote Thompson in the first chapter.

Well without further ado here is the second chapter.

Thanks

-DCSpeedster

Gotham City

Wayne Manor

6 Months Ago

"...Bruce? You aren't listening, are you?" An angelic voice greeted Bruce Wayne from his light slumber. His eyes crack open to be welcomed by the sight of the owner of the soft and warm voice. Her back is to him as she fumbles around, searching in the drawer. The light peaking from the curtains causing a heavenly glow to appear around the olive-toned skin, perfect of any blemishes or scars.

As if she had truly been sculpted by the gods. Her midnight colored hair dances from the light breeze brought in by the open widows. The jasmine scent that always followed her ever so gently drifted to him. Bruce takes a deep inhale of the cool spring air. The image presented in front of him was as if it was straight from the biblical stories of old. A humble mortal meeting a heavenly creature from above. It was a sight that one could never put into the right words.

"hmm?" Bruce groaned as he stretched, trying to rid the tiredness and aching from his joints and muscles. Patrol had been quite eventful. Joker had escaped from Arkham, doing his best to cause chaos and mayhem in the streets. Penguin and Two-Face's gang war had only intensified. It didn't even seem like the two could unite against a common enemy.

That Batman could handle. He had his back broken by Bane and recovered within a year. Although his swift recovery was because of a Meta, but even with that the situation of the past is nothing like what awaited for him after his patrol. A hungry Amazon with the power to crush a tank in one hand while playing table tennis against the best of the best with the other.

"I asked you if you wanted to go with me to a brunch event that I, unfortunately, must attend for the UN. It is in November, however, you know how busy our lives get," Diana said.

Bruce doesn't answer her. Instead, he adjusts himself for a better view. He turns over from his back onto his left side, propping his head up, using his arm. "Bruce? Don't tell me you fell asleep again? I wasn't that rough with yo-,"

"Marry me." it was abrupt but confident. The words carried the weight of his love and admiration with them. Diana froze, taken aback by his randomness, especially considering what his words truly meant. They had been together for almost two years now. Diana wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of Bruce's days in his living embrace. She knew Bruce felt the same about her. This romance was a long time in the making. The both of them had been locked in what seemed like a never ending dance. One of them would take two steps forwards while the other took two steps back. The dance was always evolving and growing ever so complicated.

It was Diana who took the first steps back. Most people solely blame Bruce and his typical behavior on why it took them so long to get together. He always took the blame too, never letting the voices talking behind his back to get to him. If Diana thought it possible, she would be sure that she had fallen even more in love with him after finding out. She wanted to set the record straight, but Bruce, being Bruce, didn't think it necessary because it had no effect on their relationship.

Diana slowly turned to face Bruce. Her eyes set upon him lying on his side on the California king memory foam mattress. The tan satin sheets were a mess from their activities last night. Alfred had not yet entered the master suite, instead choosing to give the young couple some privacy. A five o'clock shadow adorns Bruce's ruggedly sculptured face. His short obsidian hair was messy from the sleep, and last night's activities. Her Mediterranean ocean eyes are greeted by a warm summer smile, causing her to smile back, subconsciously.

Diana opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a sound out, a knock from the door interrupted them. The door to the master suite opened just enough for a balding salt and peppered hair to peek through. "I hope you two young lovers are well dressed and hungry?" A prim and proper British accent spoke. The face of one Alfred Pennyworthy washes over them. A proper mustache, colored the same as his hair, sits above his upper lip that is formed into a welcoming smile.

"Oh, Miss Diana, there is a call for you downstairs. Miss Jessica needs your approval for her signature on a few documents." Alfred evenly stated as he entered the room, making his way towards the end table closest to Bruce.

Diana turns to Bruce, giving him an apologetic look. "Why don't you come to that brunch I mentioned earlier and ask me then?" Her heavenly voice sang.

"I'd love nothing more, Princess," Bruce said as he finally stood from the bed. He comes right up to her. Standing just an inch taller than her six foot one frame. Alfred busy himself cleaning up the room as the couple embraces each other. It has become the very life joy of Alfred to see his master finally allow himself to fall in love and to be loved in return.

He had seen many women stand before the bat, the eight-year-old little boy, and crumble or run underneath the pressure. Diana, different from the rest, stubbornness that rivals even that of the bat. Her love comes from that of a pure heart. No ill motives, wants, or needs, just her wanting to make The Batman a better hero, and Bruce Wayne to heal from a tragedy, while long ago, still very fresh. The constant pain, anger, and hurt he puts himself through every night for a city that long ago abandoned him. A city that took his parents from him, his innocence. It may come from a place of love, but Diana is here to show Bruce that he can express that love healthily, that Alfred believes full heartedly.

The two finally separate, with a gasp for air filling the room. "I'll see you later today, Princess," Bruce said as he walked Diana to the master suite door, which was conveniently in the same direction as the bathroom.

"Oh, finally going to work?" Diana quipped. Bruce laughed as he entered the bathroom door. The door drowning out his laugh as it closes behind him. Alfred, as impeccable as ever, reminds Diana of her assistant waiting on the line downstairs. She yells her goodbyes to Bruce through the bathroom door before exiting the master suite.

Alfred glides over to the bathroom door, giving it three sturdy but gentle knocks before entering. "Master Bruce, Mr. Fox, bus time calling days happy you" Alfred's voice distorts and changes as if it is under water. Bruce freezes, no longer worried about shaving. He turns to face Alfred, seeing him stare at him, talking, but Bruce could hear nothing, not even the water running from the bathroom sink.

"BRUCE!" Out of nowhere, a scream rang throughout the bathroom.

"BRUCE! STAY WITH ME!"

Gotham City

East End

Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic

Present Day

6 Hours After The Explosion

The sound of the light buzzing and the intense odor of sanitation products draws batman from the realm of dreams and lets him understand where he was. His eye heavy as if they were weighed down by sandbags. The result of pain medication given to him. The hushed voice of Dr. Leslie Thompkins ushers him further into the world of the living. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was in a cage match with Grundy or Bane." Bruce groaned from trying to adjust himself. The pain in his ribs igniting from the movement. Bruce slowly cracks open his eyes. The lights in the room are blinding, as if he was staring directly into the sun. He can see Dr. Thompkins to his left. Her medical coat was as white and pristine as ever. Her hand resting just next to his as she glances over his body, verifying that he indeed was okay as he lay there bandaged from head to toe.

"Alfred is on his way." Leslie said in almost a whisper.

"You didn't have to call him."

Leslie just gave her own version of his trademarked bat glare. Batman didn't know if he should feel impressed or chastised. The pain and aching are the only thing he feels. "Bruce." Leslie started before Batman attempts to cut her off.

"Don't—"

"No. You will listen to me, Bruce Wayne." Leslie said. Batman could see hurt and pain with a mix of something else in her eyes. "You died," Leslie continued.

"Leslie, I'm—" she was fast to cut him off by raising a finger. That's when Batman finally noticed her finger was shaky, the tears building in her eyes, and that's when he it finally clicked in his groggy mind. What he saw mixed in with the pain and hurt was fear. Fear for his life.

"Three times, Bruce. I...I was afraid...oh god, Bruce." Leslie broke down, no longer able to keep the tears at bay. She finds some inner strength and continues on, "Three times I have had to revive your still heart. The blood loss you experienced... it's..."

"I've had worse."

"I know, and I feel as if I failed you in your youth, Bruce. This—" she gestures towards him with her left hand, "is not what your parents wanted you to be." Bruce, no longer able to maintain eye contact, looks around the room trying to find something else to stare at that wouldn't have him wash over with guilt.

"You need to let someone love you. You deserve to be loved," Leslie said. Bruce would have agreed with her a few months ago, but now he understands that the only love he will be allowed in this life is Gotham. There can be no other woman in his life. He must dedicate himself entirely to the mission.

"I'll go check to see if Alfred is here," she said as she walked towards the door. She gives Bruce once last glance before opening the door. Bruce doesn't know how long she was gone. It felt like hours but was more realistically only a couple of minutes. His mind still reeling the memory that had haunted him while out cold. Dying had never phased Bruce for he understood that no matter what, one day he would die. He was but a mortal.

"Just one more reason it would've never worked," he mumbled to no one in particular. Bruce gave a pitiful laugh as he laid his head back onto his pillow just as the door to the room opened, showing Alfred and Leslie, still in a hushed conversation. Bruce couldn't make out what they were talking about. Alfred's glare, like that of a parent scolding their child, let him know what it was about.

"If I dare say, Master Bruce. If you plan on getting yourself blown up, you should at least activate your tracking." Bruce rolled his eyes at the comment from his faithful butler.

"Sorry, Alfred. I'll be certain to remember for next time." Bruce shot back. Dr. Thompkins decided now was the best time to intervene. She understood that Bruce never planned on giving up the cape and cowl. She could only hope he would heed her advice.

"You are to stay in bed for at least two weeks. Doctor's orders."

New York City

Themyscarian Embassy

10 Hours After Explosion

The soft, angelic sound of laughter fills the empty halls of the embassy. A phone call drowning out the news that plays on the forty-five inch flat screen mounted on the wall. Diana sits at her desk as she talks on the phone while trying to review a few important documents for an upcoming meeting. "I enjoyed last night as well, Steve."

"Well, I was hoping we could continue with another date tonight?" Steve asked.

"I would love nothing more," Diana said as she leaned back into the chair. She turns left just enough to see outside the window. The busy streets of New York are as populated as ever. "Great! I'll be by t—" Diana, unable to hear the rest as her assistant burst through her office doors, turns to face her. Jasmine had been on her daily coffee run this morning, so why she would come into her office like a bat out of hell? Diana didn't know, but it had her on edge. Jasmine was doing her best to catch her breath. Diana figured she must have sprinted all the way back. "Tv...News...Explosion...Gotham," was all Jasmine could get out in between breaths. At the sound of explosions and Gotham, Diana grabbed the remote and flipped the channel to Channel 8, Gotham's local news channel. Forgetting about her conversation with Steve, she turns up the volume just in time.

"Yes, you heard that right. There was an explosion in the East End. Local eye witnesses report seeing The Batman nearby the blast. It is not known if he was injured. Police Commissioner James Gordon gave no comment when asked about the validity of the reports. We hope you are safe, Batman." Diana's eyes went wide in disbelief. Panic setting in causing her to race past her assistant, aiming for the front door of the embassy. She didn't get two steps in front of jasmine before her assistant reminded her of her ongoing phone call and up coming UN meeting. "Diana, Steve is still on the line, and should I reschedule with his Excellency?"

Diana mutters a few curses in Ancient Greek as she walks back into her office, trying to come up with some excuse for Steve and the Crown Prince. "Yes. Please inform his excellency that I apologize but unforeseen circumstances came up and I will have to reschedule," Diana says as she picks up the landline with a confused Steve Trevor on the other end.

Steadying herself for the conversation she's about to have, Diana takes a deep breath. "Steve, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it to our date tonight. I'm not sure when..." Diana trails off, unable to form the words that would crush the colonel.

"It's about what happened in Gotham last night, isn't it? About him?" Steve asks.

"Yes," is all Diana can muster. She's thankful that Steve is such a kind and understanding man. "It's okay Diana. Really, I understand. I'll...uh...I guess I'll see you later. Goodbye, Diana." Steve said as he hung up.

Diana wasted no time leaving the embassy. Her mind focused on one very obstinate bat as she took to the skies of New York with a single destination in mind. She knew exactly how he was and knew he wouldn't let anyone know if he was hurt or in need of help. No, the bat doesn't need help, doesn't trust anyone to help. Diana let out a frustrated sigh as she entered Gotham skies. She hasn't even seen the man yet, and he's already frustrating her, but then again, that's nothing new to her.

As Diana approached the manor grounds, she couldn't help but stop and admire the generational work. The property was vast and expansive, as if it had never had an end. The manor sits atop the highest point of a hill that overlooks the bay, giving a gorgeous view of Gotham Cory, his city.

A long stretch of drive, a forest of trees surrounding it, from the manor gates to the most elegant waterfall fountain made of the slickest marble. The driveway winds around the fountain and heads back towards the manor gates. Behind the manor sits a garden that rivals those on Themyscria, started by Martha Wayne.

Right in the center of that garden is where Diana's favorite spot on the grounds is located. There sits a gazebo, built long ago, and the view provided brings peace to all that sees it. Remembering why she was here, Diana continues her flight towards the manor front doors. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she is knocking on the door.

It felt like ten years before the door opened. "Miss Diana, how unexpected. Please, right this way," Alfred said, ushering her inside. The manor was just as splendid on the inside as it was on the outside, maybe even more. Nothing had changed since she was last here. Still as tidy as ever, no doubt thanks to poor Alfred.

"Can I take your jacket?" Alfred asked, gesturing to her suit jacket that she forgot she was even wearing. She had left the embassy so quickly she forgot to change, probably for the best. The last thing Diana wanted was a lecture from Bruce about showing up in her hero attire. "Thank you, Alfred. How have you been?" Diana asked as she stripped off her jacket.

"As overworked and underpaid as ever, Miss Diana," Alfred joked as he took the jacket from Diana. She watches him as he folds the jacket over his left arm. She can see the fresh stress lines adorning the old British butler's face. "I take it you heard the news? A real nasty explosion." Alfred says as he leads her down the hall towards the drawing room.

"Yes, I did. I...I had to see if he was okay. I hope I'm not intruding,"

"Rubbish, Miss Diana, Simply rubbish. You are always welcome here." Alfred says with a tone that leaves no room to argue as they enter the drawing room. "Master Bruce may own the manor, but he isn't as in control as he may like to think he is."

"How is he?" Diana says, cutting to the point of her visit. Her voice was unsteady, afraid of the answer she might receive. Alfred let his facade drop as he stared into the eyes of someone he viewed as his daughter.

"On the outside? He's got first degree burns on fifteen percent of his body. A fractured jaw with multiple broken ribs. Cuts all across his body and stitches that'll lead to many fresh scars, so overall, not the worst he has experienced."

"And on the inside?" Diana asked.

Alfred sighed before putting a pause on their conversation. "Why don't I go put on a pot of Earl Grey before answering your question, my dear?" Diana smiled at Alfred before nodding her head in agreement. "I'll be right back, Miss Diana. Please allow yourself to become comfortable. This is still your home, no matter what others might think," Alfred said, before disappearing out of the room, leaving Diana by herself.

Diana sat down on the sofa that faced towards the doorway Alfred exited from. The doorway they enter through facing her back. Diana let her thoughts wonder as she wait for Alfred's return. She couldn't help but continue to feel anxious. Alfred may have confirmed that he was hurt, but living yet, Diana couldn't shake the feeling. She wanted to confirm it with her own eyes. Ever since J'onn's dream machine, she's unable to rid herself of the nightmare that was his death. Diana didn't know if she could handle her emotions if he died to one of his many enemies.

Alfred returning with a silver tray holding two porcelain cups and a silver pot of tea, no doubt full of Earl Grey tea. Diana noted he was no longer carrying her jacket, Alfred would continue to be the ever always multitasking legend, Diana thought. She gave Alfred another smile as he poured and served her a cup of tea.

He took his time pouring his own cup before joining her on the sofa. Alfred takes a slow sip of tea, keeping his pinky high, before saying, "He is still hurting deeply on the inside. I fear he is just falling farther and farther into the abyss. He refuses help at every turn."

"Sounds like he hasn't changed a bit," Alfred cracked a soft laugh in response to her joke.

"I thought I was upfront, that I didn't want any visitors," a deep baritone voice rang out from behind them. Diana jumped, almost flying out from the sofa, before turning around to see the owner of the deep baritone voice. A gasp escapes her lips as she sets her eyes upon his bandage frame.

"Oh, and here I thought Dr. Thompkins said bed rest for two weeks," Alfred quipped, as if coming to Diana's rescue.

"I'm fine."

Diana couldn't help but roll her eyes. Here was the man barely standing covered almost head to toe in bandages. "You should be in bed," Diana interjected.

"You shouldn't be here."

"At least I actually showed up," Diana bit back at him, silencing him. Feeling confident of her brief victory, she gets up from the sofa, setting her cup back down on the tray. She turns around to face Bruce. She can see his eyes squaring her up. Bruce can't help but let his eyes travel up and down her frame. It has been six months since he last laid his eyes upon her angelic frame.

Diana walks towards him, going around the sofa. "Why don't you help mater Bruce back up to his room, Miss Diana? I'm afraid my poor slaved away frame just can't handle the stress." Alfred winks at Diana before busying himself with tidying up.

"I don't need bed rest, and I don't need help."

"Stop being ridiculous, Bruce. You were in an explosion. You need rest." Diana said as she grabbed his hand. Bruce didn't fight her, which caused Diana to flash him a warm smile. She lead him out from the drawing room and back towards the main hall. Eventually, they fall into place, walking hand in hand.

Diana was looking at the different portraits on the wall. All descendants of the house of Wayne. Beginning with Darius Wayne, who started the foundation of the estate they are currently on, to Bruce Wayne. Diana stopped in front of Bruce's portrait, looking at it with minor curiosity, the smile never having left her lips.

"I'm glad you kept it hanging," she softly spoke.

"It was a gift. Of course I wouldn't." Bruce would swear if Diana could smile wider than she was certainly doing that. It warmed Bruce to see her smile after such a long absence from it.

"I'm glad you liked the gift." Diana lead him back down the hall. She looks back at him when they reach the main foyer staircase. Bruce can see a twinkle in her eye. He can feel himself letting go and falling back into an old routine. A routine he has missed so dearly, something he can't seem to admit to himself.

It didn't take long before they were up the stairs and in front of the master suite. Diana turned to look at him, a question in her gaze. "Yes, this is still my room."

Diana squeezed his hand, signaling her happiness at the changes she made to stick. She reached with her free hand to grab the brass handle, opening the door. She leads him into the room and to the bed. Bruce sat down on the bed, choosing to sit closet to the door, to Diana. That was another win.

Diana noticed his laptop was open and sitting on the nightstand, a blueprint of a dock and warehouse showing on the screen. Just to the right of the laptop was a folder that had the name Donaldson, Brian, written on top of it. Bruce reached over, shutting the laptop closed, pretending like he hadn't just been caught red-handed. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?" Diana said.

"I am."

"Bruce, reading is not resting, not for someone like you. This is work, and work is the exact opposite of rest. Does it have to do with what happened to you? Do you know who is responsible? Who is this Brian Donaldson?" Diana asked. Bruce just gave her a glare that told her he wouldn't engage in her little interrogation about his nighttime activities or any information close to.

"I'm glad to see that you are okay, Bruce." Diana said as she sat next to him, placing her hand on his bandage lap, careful to not hurt him. They turned to face each other, staring into each other's eyes, trying to look into the other's mind, hoping to get a peek at their inner thoughts, inner emotions.

"You shouldn't have worried. You've seen me in a worse state."

"I will always worry about Bruce. What about you?"

"What about me?"

Diana lets out a sigh, "Do you still worry...about me?" Bruce kept her gaze as he answered her honestly, "I never stopped..."

"Then why? Why did you never seek me out? Why did you abandon me, us?" Diana questioned. Bruce's walls came rearing up. He rose to his feet in defiance of her accusations.

"Me?! You kicked ME out or do you not remember, your highness?!"

"You left before you could ever find out how we voted, so what makes you think that?!" Diana shot back as she rose to her feet. "Tell me, princess. How did you vote?" Bruce said as he shot her his trademark bat glare. Diana shot back a glare of her own before saying, "You apparently know everything already, so why bother?!"

"Get. Out."

"Make. Me." Diana demanded.

Bruce would come to regret his decision on what he did next, to resort to such low tactics. "I don't need your pity, Diana. You don't need to fuck colonel Trevor and come running to me thinking I want his slopp—" Diana slapped Bruce, preventing him from finishing his vile rant. The regret came much faster than he was prepared for.

The tears in her eyes spilling out before she practically flies to the door, almost ripping it off its hinges, and in record time, making it down the stairs to the front doors. Alfred walked into the main foyer, confused about all the commotion. One minute they are acting like old and the next they are at each other throats. Alfred would swear up and down that these two were teenagers.

Diana could barely get out her apologies between sobs before opening the front doors and taking off into the open Gotham skies, leaving behind a bewildered, on the inside, Alfred pennyworth.

Alfred shook his head as he shut the doors. He turns around to see his master, his son, walking down the stairs. "I thought I taught you to treat women better than this, Master Bruce."

Bruce ignored his comment as he made his way down the stairs, headed towards his study. "Where do you think you're going, Master Bruce? Dr. Thompkins ordered you to bed rest."

"Gotham doesn't rest, so neither can the Batman."

Gotham City

East End

The Docks

Later that night

The bat flew through the shadows up on the rafters like a tiger in jungles of India stocking its prey. Once you see him, too late, you are now helpless in his jaws. Only his prey was not a living creature. The bat sought information, details. His investigation into Roman Sionis' activities uncovered, while innocent by themselves, something that is suspicious considering the totality of the circumstances, something suggesting a plan in motion.

What plan? The bat did not know, but what he knew was that Roman Sionis has been receiving regular shipments from across the globe. From Russia to Indonesia, South America too, even Africa wasn't off limits to gather whatever Sionis wants. Tonight was the night of a shipment from Hong Kong.

The information Batman is looking for lies in a warehouse owned by a shell company hidden behind other shell companies all tying back to Sionis. He tried to cover his tracks and covered them well. He did, but nothing escaped the eyes of the bat, the eyes of justice.

As the bat gets closer to the unlit docks, he can spot activity on the outside. Men at work, unloading crates off of a fishing vessel. It's not unusual to catch Chinese fishing vessels in American waters, but in Gotham? That was new to the bat. Clearly, Sionis must be paying quite the sum if they will risk the wraith of the bat. He didn't think Ivy would take a liking to this information, either.

Batman, employing the cover of night, slipped past the armed guards watching the perimeter of the men at work like moonlight on the snow, silent. He places a tracker on a set of crates and waits for the men to finish. Once the men load the crates inside of a large box truck, they take off. Batman tracks them all the from the docks in the East End to Otisburg, leading Batman right to the lion's den.

As the men unload the shipment, he slips inside the open bay doors and takes cover deep inside the warehouse. The bat did a sweep of the first floor, looking for any stragglers inside. Finding none, he walks over to the nearest crate, opening it carefully and silently. His night vision allowing him to see its contents, plants, everything from flowers to vines. Batman opens the crate next to it, trying to make sense of their relevancy, only to further add to the confusion.

Inside were heavy amounts of what looked like pharmaceutical drugs, only their names didn't register with the bat. He surmised they are experimental, untested most likely. Batman knew opening another crate would be useless. What he needed was the inventory list settled inside the main office on the second floor.

He wasted no time in pulling out his grappling hook, flying up towards the rafters. He releases the hook right before the last second, gliding down towards the main office. With a soft, almost inaudible thud, the bat lands on the second floor just outside the office. Batman activates his thermal vision to determine if anyone is inside.

Confident that he was alone inside the warehouse, he opened the door to the office and before he could react, a boot came flying out from the darkness. It connects cleanly with the symbol on his chest. The kick sends him flying back over the railing. With seconds to spare, the bat gets his grappling hook out, shooting it upwards.

The line going taught, the only sign of success. Having no time to dwell on his close call, he uses his built up momentum to swing himself away from his attacker. A well-thrown knife flies out of the darkness. With expert precision it slices through the cable keeping Batman elevated.

Batman tucks and rolls as he lands in an aisle between crates. He lands on his feet, turning swiftly, trying to get a look, an idea, of who his attacker is.

"I don't know why you are here, but it doesn't matter." The voice of Slate Wilson, Deathstroke, spoke from the darkness. The bat knew immediately that he was in a huge mismatch in his current condition. On a good day, he could stalemate Slade, but in his current condition, it was like Knightfall all over again.

In the blink of an eye, Slade launched himself from the second story railing, his sword and pistol drawn. On his way down, he fires five shots at Batman, causing the bat to seek cover behind a stack of crates. Slides boots slap the ground as he lands. The echo drowning out the silence of the warehouse.

The bat maneuvers in the shadows, trying to slip into the nothingness. Slade, wanting the bat to have nothing to do with the dark, charges him with his sword high. Slade closes the distance in a single second, bringing his sword down. With a reaction time that would make the Flash proud, Batman raises his gauntlets, catching the strike with his fins.

The two fight for control. Batman feels Slade winning the battle, desperate to create distance. Batman returns the kick delivered to him earlier. It wasn't enough to send Slade flying, but enough to where Batman's head wasn't in danger of separating from his body.

Batman reaches inside his utility belt and pulls out a few smoke bombs. He throws them onto the ground. With a loud bang, the smoke fills the surrounding space. The bat disappears into the fog like a union soldier in Gettysburg.

"Your toys won't help you, Batman. You aren't the target, but at the rate I'm being paid, it's inconsequential."

Silence filled the air like the moments before an execution. A tiny black object slices through the smoke, embedding itself into the side of Deathstroke's pistol. Rapid sets of ticks signaling an impending boom. Slade tosses aside his pistol. Batman knows it's only a matter of time. He is simply delaying the inevitable at this pace. He needed to find a way out without fighting Slade. Despite what others might think, he doesn't have a death wish.

On top of the crates that lined the aisles, the bat began a sprint to the open bay doors, his only hope of escape. Batman couldn't worry about where slade was, only how far he was from the doors. Batman knew something was wrong when he made it outside, uncontested.

Instantly, like a nuclear explosion, the entire warehouse, inside and out, was lit up in light. The dark that so welcomed him a second ago vanished. "You sure I'm not the target, Slade? You seem to go through a lot of trouble for easier money."

"I told you the money is good for it either way. I wasn't expecting you, but my employer accounted for this...I guess let's call it insurance." Slade's voice echoed through the warehouse speakers. "Don't think I don't know about your little accident last night. You aren't at full strength. This is easy money"

Batman activated a button on his utility belt, calling the Batmobile to his location. Just as he finished pressing the button, Slade pounced from above, launching himself from the roof of the warehouse. Batman rolled out of the way just as Slade imbedded his sword into the very spot he stood. Not even a second ago.

Slade pulled his sword from the cracked and destroyed concrete when a voice from above came. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." The two men look to the skies to see a red cape billowing in the wind. Deathstroke cursed at the sight of Superman. Batman weak or not was one thing, but a god amongst men? Not for the money he is getting paid, and especially not without prep.

Slade, knowing when a situation is hopeless and needs to be abandoned, takes off faster than the two heroes can process. Disappearing into the cold salty waters of the Gotham bay.

Batman doesn't wait for Superman, turning on his heels and heading back to his original destination. He makes it up to the second floor in front of the door before finally being accosted. "Batman, we need to talk."

Batman ignores him instead, choosing to cross the threshold into the office. Before it was dark and inviting, but now all Batman wanted to do was run the opposite direction, away from the office, away from him and the argument that was sure to come.

Superman grabs hold of his right shoulder, spinning him around, forcing him to deal with the confrontation. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed resting?" Superman said. Batman glared in response, unwilling to answer.

"If I hadn't shown up when I did—"

"Why did you show up? I don't need help. Not yours and especially not Diana's," Batman said as turned back around and entered the office once again.

"Who said anything about Diana?" Clark said, trying not to let his bluff be known.

"Do I have to list off why I know she's the reason you are here? Or will you get your speech on and over with so you can Get. Out. Of. My. City." The bat growled as he combed through file cabinets, searching for the complete inventory list for the warehouse.

"You need to apologize to Diana. " Superman's tone leaving no room for argument. The bat ignored him. "Bru—" Batman whipped around, throwing a glare that cut Superman off.

"I don't owe anyone any apologies. Least of all to anyone in the league. If you came here looking for one too, then sorry to disappoint you." Batman spat before walking over to the desk sitting in the middle of the office. Batman pulled on the desk's cabinet door but to no luck, it was locked. He pulled out a lock pick from his utility belt, going immediately to work.

"You say you don't need help, but what does Alfred do? Leslie? Dick? Tim? What about—"

"Don't." It was a warning that came in a growl. "Don't you DARE say HIS name! You have NO RIGHT!" The fury of the bat rising to surface like a volcano rupturing. "GET! OUT!" Feeling his welcome was definitively over, Superman left Batman to his own devices but before leaving superman gave one last glance to batman, a look of pity.

A tiny click sounded Batman's success even with Superman's interference. He opened the drawer, slowly combing through the files until he finally landed on it, the inventory list. Batman exited the warehouse to find the Batmobile idling right outside the bay doors. He cursed himself for being so sloppy as to need saving from Superman, out of all people.

The bat pressed a button on his utility belt, causing the canopy of the Batmobile to slide back, opening. The bat leaps inside, pressing a button on the center console, closing the canopy, with a hiss it locks, sealing him inside. With a roar, the Batmobile comes to life, taking off towards the dark streets of Gotham. Crime was still afoot and so shall the Batman.

New York City

Exact Location Unknown

"You what?!"

"I abandoned the mission. It became too complicated for the price you are paying."

"Why?! You were paid for the contingency that he would show up!"

"It wasn't him who complicated things. You aren't paying me Kryptonian level money. I still want the rest of the money owed to me. I completed our bargain."

"Hmm. Yes, of course, Mr. Wilson, but my employer will not be pleased with this news. Please remain available. We may have more work for you in the immediate future. Forgive me for my outburst."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Samuel." The dial tone testified to Deathstroke's termination of the call. Mr. Samuel sighs before pressing 1 for a speed dial. He places the phone back up to his ear and listens as it rings. A soft click followed by shallow breaths let Mr. Samuel know the call was answered. "We had an unfortunate... accident. Superman showed up and Mr. Wilson abandoned the mission."

"Hmm. Did he get the list?" A deep, raspy voice questioned.

"It would be safe to assume that is the case, sir."

"We will need to speed the plan up if we have any hope of catching him off guard. Knightfall has given him much experience. It's time." The voice spoke.

"Yes, Sir. I'll get started immediately."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave a review. All reviews are welcome I just ask you remain polite.

Chapter 3 may not be out for 2 weeks or longer. I unfortunately have other responsibilities that take priority coming up, and so there is a good chance I will be busier than usual. I will do my best to keep you all up to date.

Much appreciated

-DCSpeedster