Chapter 29 – Aftershocks

When Alfred arrived with Dick for their timeslot that evening, two things were immediately evident: one, that Selina would be remaining in the room, and two, that she had chosen to reveal everything to Bruce like dumping a five-gallon bucket of ice water on his head.

Alfred was in position to judge her. Had he been in her situation, there's no telling how long his fortitude might have lasted.

What was done was done. Sometimes doctors' orders simply disintegrate under the weight of life.

He and Dick walked in just as a pair of nurses completed another round of vitals on Bruce. From their brusque manner and reproving looks cast at Selina, Bruce must have responded poorly to the news. Elevated heart rate and blood pressure, rapid breathing… a classic panic attack. Nothing some anti-anxiety meds in his IV wouldn't cure.

The nurses conspired in hushed tones, still shooting daggers at Selina. She greeted Alfred and Dick with nothing more than a rueful look.

"Mr. Wayne, how are you feeling now?" one of the nurses probed.

"Uh… fine, I guess."

"Would you prefer to be alone?" the question had a sharp edge for Selina's benefit.

Bruce paused, trying to assess things through the haze of artificial tranquility flooding his veins. They were asking him to send Selina away. Selina, who stood there looking more dejected than a woman… his wife… the mother of his unborn children… ever should.

A pang of guilt gripped him. He'd reacted poorly. No, not poorly – deplorably. He was a better man than this. He had sufficient strength of character to take this in stride. Maybe it was the vulnerability of his post-coma situation that caused a moment of insecure weakness. But Selina deserved better, and he had to make this right.

"No," he decided. "They can stay."

Once the nurses left, it wasn't clear which person should speak first. Four pairs of eyes stared at each other until Alfred made the first move.

"So, Master Bruce," the butler cleared his throat. "It seems Madame Selina has informed you of… well, everything, as it were."

Eyes slightly glazed over, Bruce nodded.

Alfred placed an arm across Selina's shoulders. "You understand, of course. She isn't exactly in a position to wait indefinitely, month after month, for your memories to return on their own."

"That's for sure," Bruce agreed, ogling Selina's belly.

"And no doubt you've a slew of questions for her?"

You could say that, Bruce mused. His eyes slid over to Dick, who was looking somewhat uncomfortable in the corner. "Alfred, why don't you take Dick down to the cafeteria? Get an early dinner."

Needing no further prodding, the two male visitors hastened out into the hallway. Now it was just Bruce lying drugged in his bed and Selina fitfully tugging at the seams of her seat cushion. Neither of them knew quite where to look, so they ended up focusing on the lump of Bruce's feet beneath the covers.

"Things are kind of murky, but if I'm counting right, we haven't been married very long, have we?" Bruce began.

"Less than a year," confirmed Selina.

"Then that was… pretty quick." He knew she understood his meaning.

"It was."

Bruce studied his hands. "Did we plan this?"

She could have lied, made him believe he'd chosen fatherhood. That his former self had been mature enough to place a deadline on Batman's career. But sooner or later, his real memories would return. He'd discover her deceit, and things would become even worse than previously.

"No," her eyes fell. "I was surprised too." Probably not half as surprised as you are, but still.

Just then, a flurry of kicks tumbled in her womb. Her hands instinctively flew to cover the spot, gaining Bruce's attention.

"They're moving?" he guessed.

"Yes," she gasped. "A lot."

Selina was surprised by the intense interest in his eyes. Interpreting that to mean one thing, she rose and stood within arms' reach of his bed. With his wordless request and her implicit permission, he tenderly placed his hands where hers had recently been.

It was his turn to gasp. "I felt it!"

She smiled warmly. "They're happy to meet you finally."

Bruce was paralyzed. Over the last ten years, his hands had wrought firm justice and subdued countless foes. Yet now, as those hands rested upon the most fragile, innocent lives, he couldn't even move a single finger. He could barely remind his lungs to expand to take in air.

"W-when will they be born?" his voice was just above a whisper.

"Mid-December is my due date, but twins are always born early," said Selina. "My doctor says no later than Thanksgiving."

Three months. That's all the time he had to prepare for this. And most of that time would be spent in rehab, not even at the Manor with her. Pulling his hands away, Bruce pinched his eyes shut. Why did fate have to be so equally generous and cruel?

"And before you ask, I don't know the genders yet. Are you okay with the surprise?" she asked.

Another surprise? Why not? In for a penny, in for a pound. "Sure."

"Alfred's been helping me set up the nursery already," Selina added. "I can't wait for you to see it."

Bruce kept his eyes closed, feeling the room start to spin a bit. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth, niiice and slow, he remembered the nurses' coaching. After a minute or two, it started to work. As long as he viewed the backs of his eyelids, he could think clearly. Seeing Selina overwhelmed him right now.

"Selina, I don't know… how do we even talk about this?"

She sat down solemnly. She didn't feign ignorance; the context was obvious. "We can try to pick up where we left off. At least, where I remember we left off."

"Which was where?"

Selina closed her eyes as well, pained by the memory:

"Do you see why it's harder than ever for me to willingly leave Gotham unprotected?" he implored. "Knowing that my own father contributed to the crime lords' strength? How can I not spend all my able-bodied years trying to rectify that?"

"You had… recently found your father's journal," she said with effort. "And learned that he saved a major criminal's life when you were six years old."

Every muscle in Selina's body tensed, bracing for the blow of Bruce remembering the criminal's name – the name she'd recently told him was her own father's. Yet when she dared to glance up, there was no sign of recognition on his face. He was patiently waiting for the story's continuation.

"So now, you felt even more obligated to protect Gotham," she explained. "You basically said you won't retire until you're forced to. Which I took to mean, no children, ever."

Bruce gritted his teeth. That sounded like how that scenario would have gone. Discovering that Thomas Wayne had personally contributed to Gotham's crime-ridden plight… there could be no greater reason to avow a lifetime as Batman, incontestably.

Funny, though, the concept of only retiring once he was "forced to." One could argue that the twins' arrival met such conditions.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I sort of remember that. I can see the journal in my hands… you sitting next to me talking about it, but… nothing else."

At least this is going better than before, Selina thought. Maybe the worst is over.

She realized she'd hoped too soon when Bruce spoke again. "By the way, who was the criminal my father saved?"